#just realized i forgot my artistic blur... oh well

[frostleni]

Hurry... he has to go play mermaids

[ellieswaifu]

MUSE. ellie williams x artist!reader.

summary: modern/college!au – ellie williams x fem!artist!reader. SFW! ellie has always had a crush on you, the girl who sat right in front of her in art class.

a/n: also hi i’m back looool (not proofread per usual)

The setting sun bleeds through the curtains of the art room, painting the walls in a soft orange that met the subtle undertones of your skin as you gazed right up the girl who had been standing frozen between the doorframe. Her backpack slung loosely over her shoulder and her short brown hair tousled lightly down her neck, partly tied at the back of her head as she grips the door handle. You were also quite frozen in your seat, arm lifting a paintbrush to a blank canvas with your eyes staring back at her. You wondered what she was doing, standing there with an unwavering stare like a statue.

It had been about an hour since class had been dismissed and you found yourself in a staring competition with a fellow classmate; a classmate you were quite fond of, a classmate you were quite attracted to. How could you not? It was Ellie. She was smart, creative, and ambitious, all equally matched her dashing good looks. She was very popular with the ladies, including you, and went to lots of parties, a crowd you never really thought of joining. It was strange being in a situation you would never have guessed to be in with this person. And after moments of unending eye contact, you finally broke the ice.

“May I help you?”

“O-Oh,” Ellie twitches in surprise after realizing how long she had been staring. “Sorry, I-I just forgot something. Didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s okay, Ellie. I don’t mind,” you reply, setting your brush down against the table.

“I, uh, I didn’t think you’d know my name.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, smiling lightly at her statement, “Are you kidding? What kind of person do you take me for? You sit right behind me.”

She was very well aware of this after the countless stares, including this one, that she had shamefully indulged in during class as you worked beautifully on your art. Beautiful. It was a word she often associated with you. Every time she looked at you; beautiful. She had developed this secret crush on you since the beginning of the year, having no courage to act on her feelings other than stare at you directly from behind for at least an hour each weekday.

Ellie slowly walks towards her desk, right behind you, “I know… But I mean, we don’t really talk so I… I don’t know. I thought I’d be like a blur to you… If that makes sense.”

“Well, don’t sell yourself short. I see you clear as day,” You play with the tube of oil paints with your fingers, smirking softly at her.

“What do you mean?” Ellie blinks at your reply, looking hopeful, hoping for the chance that you might like her the same way she likes you.

“I’ve always admired your work, Ellie. You’re amazing.”

Ellie’s shoulders drop, slightly disappointed, but also appreciative of your opinion of her and her artwork. “Thanks... So what’s got you stuck in here still?”

“Nothing. Just easier for me to do it here, than in my own apartment, I guess. And I like the quiet and the windows. Especially right when the sun sets. Besides, paint is so expensive now,” You roll your eyes, looking over to the almost empty paint tubes your professor let you use.

Ellie’s green eyes light up as she remembers the little stash of art supplies occupying the corner of her dorm room. “Uh, well, if you ever need some oil paint, I’ve got plenty, if you’d like. My dad always gets me art supplies but always in different mediums because he doesn’t know exactly what I use so I always have extra supplies I end up not using. I-I mean, if you want. I mean, I don’t oil paint, so...”

You can’t help but smile at her endearing mannerisms, watching her nervously rub the palm of her hand with her thumb, “That’s sweet of you, Ellie.”

A smile curves under her nose in triumph as her eyes slowly pan over to your easel, “It’s empty. Your canvas.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m… I’m having trouble picking a subject. I kinda sat here for a while doing nothing, staring at it but I can’t think of anything yet... Except…”

Ellie raises her eyebrow, “What are you thinking?”

“A portrait. Well, obviously. But, I’m thinking… I could paint you? If you’ll let me.”

“Yeah,” Ellie says almost embarrassingly fast. “I mean, yeah, sure, if you think I’d be a good reference, yeah.”

You smile, “You’d be perfect, Ellie.”

Ellie begins to lose focus, mind fast forwarding to the time the two of you would be spending together. Painting was a slow process, especially one for an oil painter. She became grateful that you were one. Not only were you an amazing artist, but you spend a long time trying to hone your craft, so the time she’ll be sitting as your model would take more than a couple of days. Time with you. An excuse to be with you. Finally. After staring at the back of your head, watching you work as she sat behind you with constant adoration, she thanked whoever it was that led up to this moment.

It’s the fourth day of her sitting on this old brown stool you pulled out from the classroom closet. Ellie sits in her usual pose; relaxing, slouching slightly, a foot planted onto the floor while the other sits on the footrest, staring at your face as you painted. She found that you had a face you put on as you concentrated on your work — a sight she would’ve never gotten to see from sitting behind you in class. She was grateful for this experience, to be able to see you like this, putting most of your attention on her. The first day, she was quiet, seemingly nervous as she fiddled with her hands every time you would turn to look at her, making her almost want to look away, knowing her cheeks would be getting redder by the second. Now, it was easier for her to control. She was more confident, at ease and often finding herself babbling about her aerospace class like the nerd she is.

And you looked beautiful, as always. It felt different, sitting in front of you, rather than behind. She couldn’t look over your shoulder to see your work anymore, like she always does. Only you. In a way, she liked this better. She liked watching you work, watching how gentle your brush strokes were, how precise and calculated they were, how your technique never faltered and how amazing the canvas looked when you put your strokes together. But now, she could only see you. Your hair tied loosely away from your face, your eyes darting back and forth between her and the canvas, your apron tied around your pretty waist, a pencil tucked behind your ear, the way your eyebrows furrow in frustration when you can’t get something right, and the way you occasionally take a couple steps back away from the canvas to inspect everything thoroughly before diving right back into painting. You were quiet and concentrated, even when you gave small hums of affirmation when Ellie would talk.

And all Ellie could think about was how pretty you were, standing there, so unaware of the thoughts of you that filled her brain, masked behind her small but many talks of her space class.

“How’s it going over there?” Ellie asks curiously, scratching the back of her neck as she continues to grow more and more nervous under your stare.

“It’s… going…” You mumble, putting the end of your brush between your teeth, biting it slightly in frustration as you think.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s missing…” Your sentence drifts, incomplete, as your eyes pan slowly over towards her once more, this time never leaving.

It only takes a second for you to put your brush down against your palette before walking over to where Ellie was sitting, stepping into her bubble, leaning down dangerously close to her face. Ellie twitches in surprise, eyes widening at the sudden closeness you two shared.

She could smell you. The soft fragrance that was so… you. She could see your eyes scanning every inch of her face, making her conscious of what she looked like during each passing second. But you were so close. It felt intoxicating.

So, she couldn’t help herself. Ellie brings her hands up to rest them on your hips, fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, one of her thumbs going through the belt loop of your jeans. Her eyes trail up to yours before darting down to where your lips were, sitting there so plump and delicious, practically calling out to her like a moth to a flame, as you continued to stare down at her. You loved the feeling of her hands on your body and you decided to respond by wrapping your arms around her neck, brown locks slipping through your fingertips.

If she could just tilt her head to the side a little more, lean her head upwards closer, she could just…

“Freckles... I was missing your freckles,” you sigh dreamily, already forgetting about the painting as you continued to stare at the girl in front of you. You bring your hand up to caress her face, thumb brushing softly over her eyebrow, paint smudging lightly against her skin, “You have a scar…”

“Yeah…” Ellie breathes, unable to take her eyes off your lips as you spoke softly.

“Where’s it from?”

“I… I liked building things as a kid. I tried to make a robot… Never worked, obviously, so I… I pulled it apart and destroyed it with a knife and I messed up with the angle I was cutting it with, and accidentally flung it towards my face.”

You hum in amusement, a smirk tugging at your lips, “I think the scar looks good on you.”

“You think so?” Ellie says, hands shifting slightly to rest underneath your sweater, feeling the skin of your waist, inching you closer towards her body, between her legs.

“Yeah,” you say lowly, before coming close to press your lips slightly towards her ear to whisper, “It makes you look sexy.”

Ellie can’t help but close her eyes, releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding. The way you looked at her right now made her feel like she was on fire. Her face was burning up surely, but her heart was beating so fast it felt like it waking explode.

“I wanna kiss you,” she says, almost desperately.

You smile and run a hand through her hair, tugging on it lightly, making her groan lowly against you. “What’s stopping you?”

Ellie’s lips curve into a cocky smirk as she looks up at you with nothing but affection in her eyes, watching you like you were the most beautiful thing on the planet. “Nothing.”

And then, her lips pressed against yours with a gentle eagerness as her hands pulling you by your waist. It’s a moan that tugs on her heartstrings and is the cause of all the butterflies in her stomach. She discovers you like pulling at her hair when your paint-stained hands tug on it for the second time today, groaning against your lips at the feeling of your hands in her locks.

You pull back and smile when you see the subtle but visible pout on her lips, “How was that?”

Ellie can only shake her head and mutter two simple words desperately, “Not enough.”

And she dives right back against your mouth, arms wrapping tightly around your waist. Your hands trail down from her hair, resting your palms against her shoulder to find your balance, the kiss making you all dizzy. You unknowingly leave paint all over her shirt and her neck as she groans against your lips, seemingly never wanting to part from you ever.

You pull away again, both of you out of breath, lips hovering over each other as you regain your focus.

“I think we—” Ellie steals a kiss from you as you spoke. “Really need to—“ And then another. “Get back to—“ And then another. “Work!” You exclaim with laugh, pushing Ellie’s shoulders to keep her from coming closer even thought she had her arms wrapped around you still.

“I like kissing you,” Ellie says, hypnotized by you, how she felt like she was holding the literal embodiment of art in her arms. And finally, the words she’s been dying to tell you since she’s known you: “I like you.”

And she kisses you again, softer this time, humming lightly against your lips, hands treating you like porcelain. You tasted so good to her. She couldn’t help but want more. You moan in surprise as you feel her tongue drag across your bottom lip and instinctively, you open your mouth only slightly, but it was enough to push her tongue against yours, groaning in satisfaction, the taste of your tongue even more addicting. The grip you had on her shoulders only grew tighter as you kissed her.

“Mmhm, Ellie,” you moan.

Ellie groans into your mouth, immediately falling in love with the sound of your moans, squeezing your hips tighter, wanting to hear more from you before you move your head back to look at her. You stare down at her skin, thumb brushing over the freckles you wanted to kiss one by one.

Ellie pulls away with a smile, confidence growing by the second, “Yeah, baby?”

You roll your eyes and smile, leaning down to peck her lips once more, “I like you, too.”

And you kiss her again as she smiles into your lips. Your unfinished canvas was long forgotten as Ellie continues to distract you with her lips as your hands paints her skin.

You make a note to remind yourself to continue what you started, the painting and the kissing, both inspired by the muse which was Ellie.

a/n: thank u for reading my loves :)

[jjungkooksthighs]

Yearn for You | jjk (m)

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

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

◊  Rating: 18+ / nsfw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook,” you whimper, “touch me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook, I-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          Jimin:

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

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

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

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

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

          Jungkook:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[spicy-dunkaroo]

Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)

♫Now Playing: “Stuck by Your Side (Part 1)” by Spicy Dunkaroo…♪

❀Word Count: 2.5k

❀Rating: PG 13, 18+, Minors Do Not Interact (please)

❀Genre: Mythology AU!, Kelpie! Tamaki Amajiki, a pinch of Angst, very Fluffy, Maybe Smut (Still not sure yet)

❀Summary: Due to your job, you’re forced to visit a beautiful city in Scotland in order to get some reconnaissance on the locals. While on this trip, you grab a drink with a coworker and return home where you begin to notice strange things happen.

❀Warning(s): Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol use (Characters are aged up), and Mentions of Depression

❀Author's Note: Hello everyone!! This will be my first collaboration with the BNHarem server (Of hopefully many more). I hope that if you enjoy this story that you also go ahead and check out the other talented artists/writers that participated in this server collab here. I am beyond grateful to be working with so many amazing writers and artists that have helped me and inspired me to start writing!! I would also like to ask that if there are any warnings I might have missed, please do let me know. The last thing I want to do is have anyone read my story and get triggered because I didn’t properly put the warnings here.

Without further adieu, I hope you enjoy :)

☟❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀☟

Birds singing, leaves crunching, and the wind singing in your ears was all you could hear as the tour guide went on with their one-sided conversation of tour around Inverness, Scotland. If it weren’t for your worrisome supervisor, you’d be in the cute little cottage that you rented for the next few weeks, probably playing on your switch or watching Tigtog videos for hours on end. But noooo, they mandated that everyone had to go on this hour-long tour of the city to “get a nice perspective of the city” or whatever the hell they were rambling on about.

Each person was assigned a partner for the tours so they didn’t have to worry about anyone getting abducted or ‘lost’. Knowing better, you visibly rolled your eyes as your partner looked around like a kid in a candy store. Apparently the woman was from the marketing department as well, her name seeming to leave your memory as you squinted in her direction.

“You forgot my name again, didn’t you?”

“Pfft- no- no way!”

“Yea? Then what is it?”

“Uh, erm...It- it starts with a H, I know that!!”

“It’s Hoshi, or if you’d like to continue with formalities, Ms. Tenmei.”

Hanging your head in shame you look away. Getting lost in your thoughts once more, Hoshi taps on your shoulder.

“Hey, no worries! I’m pretty bad with names myself. How’s camera duty going?”

Saying this, the woman grabs the camera from your grasp, turning it back on to see the pictures you had taken thus far. Whistling, Hoshi looks back at you, noticing the lack of enthusiasm that was painted across your face.

“I know this tour is the last thing either of us want to do, but the quicker you get all those pictures for the portfolio, the quicker we can get out of here and grab a drink. It’ll be my treat if you can get all of them before the end of the tour.”

Nodding your head, you grab the camera back from her, beginning to focus it on a nice view of the lake from the bridge the two of you were standing on. Before you can snap the shot, the tour-guide’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as he begins to speak about a more interesting topic.

“It’s said that this lake has a kelpie spirit living within its waters. Although, that can be said about any lake that’s big enough to swim in.”

As most tourists begin to talk amongst themselves, you grip onto the expensive camera once more, hoping to find that perfect shot you had before the man’s shrilling voice had interrupted your train of thought.

“Mommy, what’s a kelpie?”

As the little boy spoke, you took the chance to snap the shot as a bird flew on the lake's surface, leaving a black blur on the perfect shot!

‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’

The tour guide you grew to despise butted into the pair’s conversation to answer the boys question.

“That’s a good question kiddo! It’s said that the origins of the Kelpie were originally told as warnings to women and children alike to be alert at all times when not around their loved ones. Despite this, you can ask any local in the area and most could tell you their story of encountering the supposed myth. I suppose we’ll never know till we see one for ourselves. Though, if you’re unlucky enough to encounter such a myth, there’s the chance that you won’t live to tell the tale...”

The boy trembled as he gripped his mother’s dress tighter in his clutch. Your partner begins to scoot closer to you as she whispers into your ear.

“Psst! Hey, what do you think about those ‘kelpie’ hm?”

“It sounds like some sort of folk-lore they tell all the tourists here.”

“Oh c’mon now, you’re no fun! I’d like to think they might not be as brutal as this guy says.”

Scoffing, you shake your partner’s hand from your shoulder as you look into the camera’s lens once more to take another picture.

‘I’m sure it’s all bullshit. There’s no such thing as a shape-shifting kel-‘

Thinking this, you suddenly feel your body begin to fall forward as the bridge railing suddenly let out from beneath you. Before you realize it, you open your eyes to see the water's surface only a mere foot or two from your own face, the camera hanging by your neck and grazing the lake, your body beginning to be pulled back to its upright position.

Turning around to thank whoever it was that just saved you from having to pay for the company camera, you look to see nobody behind you. Nobody seemed to even be around you as you see Hoshi following behind the group of tourists, leaving you in the dust. You begin to chase after the group as you shake off the entire encounter.

Shuffling your bag off of your shoulder you threw it into the nearby chair, slumping into the couch that was adjacent to the chair. You began to hum to yourself as you felt the effects of the beer contest you had with Hoshi who you now knew was your supervisor. Thinking to yourself you remember losing that contest the two of you set up.

‘It was nice of her to pay for us and to bring me back home even though I lost. I should thank her tomorrow and try to pay her back if I can.’

Suddenly feeling the effects of the liquid courage, you stood up a bit too quickly, reaching your hand out to the couch you were just laying on. Not sure what to do, you reached for your phone to scroll through Tigtog, that was until you began to hear something strange. From what you could tell, it sounded like a voice, though you weren’t sure if it was male or female. Curiosity began to take the lead as you stood upright once more. Looking around, you began to walk around the cottage, seeing if there was anything on that could be making that noise. Eventually you found yourself outside in what looked to be the backyard of your little cottage, swaying side to side as you tried to listen for the voice once more.

“Y/N? Are- are you there?”

Under normal circumstances, after hearing an unknown males voice you’d already be locking the backdoor behind you after racing to that door. Tonight, however, was not the case as you yelled back the best you could of a response.

“yYeaa! Wwwhooo- whoo arre yOU?”

After saying this, you suddenly began to burp, probably due to the alcohol. Despite everything you had experienced thus far, for some reason your fit of burps could not be funner to you at that very moment as the voice spoke once more.

“T-That’s not important r-right now. I just wanted to make sure you made it back home safe.”

The liquid courage that coursed through your veins decided that you wanted to find out more about this stranger and began to walk into the forest. You began to sway as you attempted to find them, calling out to them in hopes of convincing them to stay and hang out.

“OoooOh c’mON now!! Don’t be liiiike that! Wh-wherrrreeee are ya? Le-le-let’s hanggg ouT for a bit! I-I *hic* think there’s cards in the liv-livingg roooom~! We- we can play a gggame of poKER and- and see what’s in the fridge. Man, now I’m hungryyy!”

Despite your lack of sobriety at the moment, you began to hear a few leaves crunch nearby. It appeared that for some reason or another, what you lacked in logic you seemed to gain in your basic senses. This theory proved true as you sniffed the air, you noticed that there was a lake nearby.

‘Since when the hell did I know what a river smelled like?’

Before you can continue on with your train of thought, the stranger responds once more. They seemed a bit panicked as you heard a twig snap, followed by more leaves crunching beneath their feet you suspected.

“D-D-Don’t come any closer! Y-You should go back h-home, you’re not t-thinking rationally.”

Not wanting to take no for an answer, you continue to walk to the source of the sound, hearing what sounded like a cascading river growing louder. Looking through the trees, you noticed a few yards away the river you had just heard. You speak up once more as you begin to walk toward the river.

“I-I don’t want to be alone r-right now… It-it’s stupid I know, I just...I’d just like to talk, just for a little bit. Would that be okay?”

Your vision began to blur as you rushed to the river's edge. It didn’t matter now if the stranger responded or not, your world began to crash down around you as you looked at the reflection on the water's edge. Sitting on your knees, small whimpers escaped your lips out as you covered your face with your hands. Despite the literal lack of sight, your emotions consumed you as it felt that everything around you was losing the light that once shone in your hopeful eyes.

At this point, you couldn’t hear any signs of life as you gripped harder at your face, only the sound of your quiet cries for help being all that echoed through that hollow forest. Assuming the worst, you began to move your hands from your face, dropping them by your side once more as you looked at your reflection once again.

“Y-You said you wanted to talk? T-That’d be fine, just- just promise you won’t cry anymore?”

There's a beat of silence, it seemed that not even the wind could speak as your body froze. Sure, you could convince yourself that you were just hearing things, that you were just acting aloof because you were feeling lonely. If you could get yourself on the couch, you could wake up and even tell yourself that the whole experience was just a really surreal dream you had. What you couldn’t convince yourself was the half naked man that appeared to be standing a few feet behind you, his voice matching his lips as you watched them move.

‘Maybe- maybe I’m just seeing things? That-that has to be right, right?! But alcohol doesn’t cause hallucinations and I’m positive that none of my drinks were spiked. So- so...Who the hell is this!?!’

“Are- are you okay Y/N?”

Your body grew stiff as you heard your name roll off of his tongue. If you weren’t getting clearheaded before, you definitely were cold sober now. Those shy indigo eyes that seemed to stare back at your own off of the river's surface as they brought you back to your senses.

‘There is a strange, half-naked man, who somehow knows you by your name, staring at you- talking to you! He doesn’t seem very intimidating, but then again he is a stranger!! In the best case scenario, he could just be a nice guy who found someone in need. Worst case, he’s a psycho that found their next victim! I can’t keep my back turned like this, I have to do something and get the hell out of this!’

Taking a shallow breath in, you swiftly turn your entire body around, facing the stranger that now made your body shiver in fear as you looked up at him. Despite the appearance of the situation, the man seemed to be intimidated by you as he looked away.

‘He doesn’t really seem like he wants to hurt me. If anything, he’s scared of me? Maybe I can intimidate him to leave me alone? Though, I don’t think I could pull it off seeing as I’m still a bit drunk…’

“Y-Y/N?”

Looking back at the man, you notice he begins to reach his hand out toward you, slowly beginning to walk toward your crouched form. Worried for the worst, you scoot away as you respond.

“H-HEY!! D-Don’t come any c-closer! If-If you don’t I-I’ll- ACK!”

Speaking this, you only now notice that there didn’t seem to be any more ground beneath you as you felt your body begin to fall into the river.

“Y/N!”

Before you can process everything that’s happening, you close your eyes in anticipation for the cold water that was bound to drown you. The stranger grabs your wrist, holding your body up above the river, your body mere inches from being submerged in the cold water. Noticing the lack of impact, you flutter your eyes open as you look back at the man before you. Shocked, the man looks down at where he grabbed your wrists. Only now do you notice a purple hue that surrounded both your arms.

“What- what is this?!”

At a loss for words, the man can only look back between your face and where he held your wrist. Confused and scared, you rip your arm from his grip as you stand yourself back up. As you stare at the man, you look around, befuddled by whatever the hell had just happened.

While a part of you would love to ask what just happened, the more logical side of you knew that none of this was worth hanging around to find out. Dusting yourself off, the man speaks up once more as he looks away in what seemed to be guilt.

“Y-Y/N, I-I’m so so-sorry!! I-I didn’t mean to t-touch you- What have I done?!”

Not wanting to wait any longer, you began to shuffle around the man, holding your hands up in surrender as you attempted to empathize with the man. Although, you weren’t sure why he was so worried since he didn’t seem to do anything besides whatever that purple glow was moments before.

“Hey, hey! We don’t have to speak about any of this. I’ll go back and after that we won’t have to ever see each other ever again, okay?”

“Y/N, i-it’s not that simpl- h-Hey, WAIT!!”

Before he had a chance to explain, you sprinted back to your cute rental cottage that you were now wishing you never left. Looking back, you notice the man just stood there as you were almost home.

Suddenly, your body stopped moving. What was even stranger, your body seemed to freeze mid-sprint. Looking around, you noticed that somehow your head was able to move but your arms were stiff as you attempted to force your body to run once more. Just as you were about to give up, your legs moved once more, wobbling as they felt gravity work once more. Not taking any chances, you began to dash once more. Not a second later, your body rolled forward from some sort of large and heavy impact. After your body finished rolling forward, you noticed that you were sitting in the backyard of the cottage, the man sitting on his head as his body laid against the door.

“W-Who or-or What are you?”

The man sighs as he flutters his eyes open, rubbing his head as he looks up at you.

“M-My name’s T-Tamaki Amajiki, and- and I’m a kelpie…”

~End of Part 1~

[mizunetzu]

my request is flaaaaaacidddddd peeeeenisssss

Flaaaaaaaciddddd peeeenisssss

——————

Iida x reader - Iida Tenya’s Imaginary Boyfriend (True Ending)

⚠️warnings - good ending HAHAGQ

Pronouns - male, he/him

Part one can be found here!

Part two can be found here!

——————

He woke up in recovery girls office.

He wasn’t sure how he got here. All he remembered was his head feeling a bit faint walking back to the dorms, then waking up here. Looking out the windows, vast colors of orange and yellow flooded in between the cracks of the blinds, making colorful stripes paint his bed with light. He presumed it was around sunset.

The door clicked open. Recovery girl, Aizawa, and detective Tsukauchi walked through the door.

“Do you know where you are right now, Iida?” Aizawa was frank, as usual.

“I believe I am in recovery girls office, though I have no clue how I got here.”

Tsukauchi cleared his throat. “You were hit with a villains quirk about 2 days ago. You’ve been asleep ever since. It caused you to go in a nightmare-ish dream state until we caught them.”

Iida retrieved his glasses from the bedside table. It was then he realized he was in his pajamas. Aizawa stepped forward. “What’s your full name?”

“Iida Tenya.”

“How old are you and what school do you go to?”

“15 years old and I attend UA high school.”

Aizawa hummed. Nothing seemed to be wrong with his memory. “Do you know what day it is?”

“March 17...no, 19? Forgive me, it’s somewhere between there.”

“Iida,” Aizawa looked confused. It made Iida feel sort of uneasy aswell. Like getting a problem wrong and having your teacher be disappointed in you. “That’s almost a full month away. It’s February 3rd today.”

February 3rd. If Iida recalled correctly, that was around the day that everyone seemed to forget that (Y/n) existed. He checked his wrists out of habit. (Y/n’s) watch were gone. He was about to ask where it was, when the detective clicked his tongue.

“Well-thats to be expected,” Tsukauchi held up a case file, most likely a report on the criminal who used their quirk on Iida. “Time passes differently in the quirk-induced coma Iida-san was in. Some people affected by them claim it’s been years when it’s only been a couple of days. Truly terrifying.”

Recovery girl tutted. “All of his vitals seem to be in check. He should be able to return to the dorms now. Just have him take it easy for a couple days in training.”

“Mm. Make sure you make up your missed work,” Aizawa turned back, as Tsukauchi exited the office and recovery girl sat in her desk. “And tell your classmates you’re alright. Your friends were freaking out when you wouldn’t wake up in the morning. They should be in the dorms by now.”

Iida nodded.

———

Walking back to the dorms, there was one thing Iida couldn’t get off his mind.

He’s been in a ‘quirk-induced coma’ for 2 days. The passage of time is different with their quirk as to real life. And he could’ve sworn it was late March instead of early February.

So when did he fall asleep? And what was his ‘dream’ about?

He, at first, thought it was the result of walking home with his friends after seeing that sketch artist Kaitekina, but that doesn’t happen until almost a full month later. So, most of the things Iida remembers doing and learning in class has not happened yet.

And, nightmare? He remembers falling asleep and seeing (Y/n) in his dreams, but that doesn’t fall under ‘nightmare’ territory. Actually, it was rather pleasant.

“Oi! Iida’s awake!” He heard Kirishima yell, as he walked through the door. Most everyone was in the common room, and turned their heads. Each one of them erupted into a smile, saying things like “are you ok?” Or “glad to see you awake, Iida-san!”

He, unintentionally, tuned them all out.

What was his ‘nightmare?’ What made his dreams about a boy who doesn’t exist so bad? Was he waking up in his dream just to go to bed in that dream to dream another dream? What-

“-and (L/n) was so worried bro! I mean-he looked ok like usual but I guess he doesn’t really go out of his room unless you force him t-“

“I’m sorry, who?” Iida’s disbelieving voice sharply cut off Kaminari’s ramblings. He didn’t hear that correctly. His mind had to be playing tricks on him.

“...bro...” Looks of worry or confusion flooded the 1A students. Similar to when they looked at him like he was insane, asking for a non-existent student named (L/n) (Y/n).

Kaminari awkwardly chuckled. “(L/n)...? Your personal hype man? Dude who follows you around like a dog?”

“Kaminari-that was mean, he does not follow Iida around like a dog.”

“But he does!”

A playful argument rang out between Jirou and Kaminari. Everyone’s attention seemed to shift from Iida, to Jirou blasting her heartbeat into Kaminaris ears with her ear jacks.

“Iida-kun, are you okay..?” Midoryia brought Iida out of his trance. “Did you lose your memory or something while you were asleep?”

“No no I just-I probably misheard Kaminari-kun. Who was he talking about?” His voice was wavering. His desperation hidden behind the glare of his thick cut glasses and messy bed hair. He needed to comb his hair once he sorted things out.

“(L/n) (Y/n)-kun?” There it’s was again. “He sits next to you in class? You...oh! You two fought in the sports festival? And...yknow...the whole,” Midoryia stuck out his tongue making a mask with his hands and pretending to lick someone’s blood. “-thing?”

Everytime he asked who he fought in the sports festival, everyone including Midoryia would say “Hatsume-san, Ibara-san, and Todoroki-kun.” He never recalled fighting someone named “Ibara” from class 1B, having fought (Y/n) instead, but he grew to just accepting it.

And when he asked about the Stain incident, Todoroki and Midoryia would claim it was just them three fighting him. There was no one with (h/c) hair that helped Midoryia, him, and Todoroki out immensely. As far as Iida was concerned, (L/n) (Y/n) did not exist to the world.

So why was everyone talking like he was a real person?

“Iida, if you really don’t remember, you should go get that checked out by recovery girl...it’s pretty odd that you forgot about your own classma-“

The sudden startup of engines, followed by the whirring hiss of smoke trailing past him cut Midoryia off. Iida burned through the pants of his pajamas, but he didn’t care. He ran as fast as he could to the 4th floor of the boys side of the dorms.

His heart quickened with every step he took. He wasn’t one to get his hopes up, but the obvious look of desperation on Iida’s face seemed to lead his thoughts. He needed to see for himself.

Skidding to a halt infront of the supposedly empty dorm room, he once again halted when he reached for the doorknob. Everytime he’d check this room on impulse, he was always met with the empty, white walls and drawn curtains supplied by the school. He didn’t want to walk in and face white again.

And he didn’t.

Almost taking the door off the hinges, Iida practically shoved the door out of his way. A small gasp ripped its way through Iida’s throat.

A dimly lit room, one that was never kept clean, that had an oddly sweet smell coming from it. He saw the vaguely familiar (f/c) bedsheets, with the sea blue comforter thrown lazily on it, half slipping onto the ground. He saw the messily taped Ingenium posters, crooked and wonky, plastered on his studying table, which was almost never used for studying. When they studied together, it was usually on Iida’s bed or somewhere outside.

But finally, he saw the patio slider door opened, curtains fluttering in the mellow orange sunlight with someone standing outside. They were leaning on the balcony, with their arms stretching up, the reflection of their cheap red watch burning light into Iida’s eyes.

“(L/n)...kun...?” The name felt foreign on his lips. Even if he technically ‘saw him two days/one month ago’, it felt like years since he’s actually felt like he was in the same room as him. The boy, (Y/n), turned around.

Setting sunlight painted his face with warm colors, making the (h/c) shade of his hair burn brighter. The light also seemed to reflect off the (e/c) iris’ of (Y/n’s) face, making it look like it was glowing. It lit his face well enough to make him seem ethereal. Breathtaking. Real.

It was him. It was (Y/n).

“Morning, Tenya. How’s it feel to be asleep for two days?”

Iida didn’t answer. Instead, he walked tentatively towards the patio sliding entrance, his burnt pajama pants cinching his calves now that his adrenaline high was subsiding. He stopped a few inches way from (Y/n), reaching out and shakily touching his cheek.

Instead of fazing through him, or flat out fading, his hand made contact with warm, soft skin. (Y/n) hummed and nuzzled his cheek into his hand. Iida’s vision blurred involuntarily, despite him having his glasses on.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen?”

His voice’s vibration, and the warm breath that fanned his chest was enough proof that he was here. Enough proof he was dragged down back to earth, no longer just a distant memory no one remembered.

Iida’s throat closed up, and he felt his knees go weak. He was a blurred mass of (h/c) and (skin/c), with the hint of red that protruded from his arm, but Iida knew he was still there. He was there, with him, and would be going on until forever.

A tender, hoarse chuckle escaped Iida. He leaned his cheek onto (Y/n’s) forehead, not caring that his face and bed hair was still messy and reeked of sleep. He smiled.

“Nothing. Nothing at all, (Y/n)-kun.”

——————

Haha. That was fun. Anyways-

[mrs-han]

Can I request Jumin coming across MC's letters/diary or something by accident and she's written about a guy and how he's soft and nice and caring etc and he surprisingly finds himself upset because he thinks it's about someone else but it's actually about him and how MC sees him through her eyes (maybe pre-relationship), thank you!

How am I finding these requests now??

RUDE.

~~~

Jumin didn't think anything of it.

At first.

Before you settled into his humble abode, you vehemently insisted on going back to Rika's apartment to fetch something. Jumin insisted that everything you could ever want - could ever need - was at your fingertips. But you refused.

Of course, he didn't want to pressure you - so he had his best driver take you back to the residence.

Jumin expected you to return with a suitcase or a backpack of some sort. Instead, you returned... with a leather journal.

You seemed slightly embarrassed about it, though he couldn't understand why. He felt ecstatic over the presumed fact that you trusted him enough to provide whatever it was you needed.

Even a brand new journal. But it wasn't too important.

"I take it everywhere," you blushed, hiding your pink cheeks behind the brown parchment. "It's like... my most trusted friend."

And, more than you knew, he could understand what you meant. He knew the joys of journaling and the discipline that came with it. 

But you certainly weren't lying. You carried the journal everywhere.

The first night you stayed over, he watched as you sat hunched on the bed, your journal in your lap. He waited for you to fall asleep, but you seemed far too engaged, your head buried deep in your book's pages. The ink pen you had politely asked him for was furiously wagging or making firm strikes.

Curious.

Jumin figured you were drawing - yes, an artist needs to express themselves.

But the next morning, he noticed you scribbling in the journal again. Seated at the kitchen island, you were... giggling and trying to hide your smile behind your fist.

"Good morning," Jumin smiled, his voice directly behind you.

"Jumin!!" You roared, slamming your journal shut. "G-Good morning! Do you want breakfast?! Let me make you breakfast!"

"There's no need... don't you remember me telling you last night that I'd be preparing breakfast?"

"Oh! Ah... haha! Aah... jeez, it is warm in here!"

Jumin stepped toward you. "If you'd like, I can adjust the temp —"

"No!!" You plucked your journal off the kitchen island, hugging it close to your bosom and earning you a befuddled stare from Jumin. "No, I can just... uh... excuse me!"

His eyes watched as you pranced down the hall to the bathroom.

Curious.

You always had the journal on your person. You'd take it with you to the couch, to the drawing-room, to bed - even while you bathed, Jumin noticed how it took an hour or more before he heard the water to the tub ran.

You scribbled more into it as if your life depended on how fast your delicate fingers could move. He had to admit that you were tempting him to purchase a journal for himself. Still, he wasn't artistically inclined, and he knew he'd ultimately end up using the new journal as a planner.

Still... your dedication to the creased leatherback made him... endlessly curious—even a little jealous.

Were you drawing? Writing? Simply scribbling? While he had started opening up to you, he realized you were a bit more hesitant to do so... perhaps you were writing letters to companions, letting them know how crazy he was...?

Or perhaps... you were writing letters to... another man...?

"Jumin?"

"Hm?" Jumin jumped slightly, snatched out of his reverie.

"Sorry," you smiled shyly. "I was thinking about taking up an offer of yours... I'd actually like to see what this building has to offer."

"Ah... that sounds like a splendid idea," Jumin smiled forcibly and reached over, pressing a code from his desk. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to accompany you. I'll have my bodyguards show you around. They should be outside as soon as you open the door."

"Oh," you mumbled, disappointed. "... Well, that's fine! I'll tell you all about my adventures!"

Jumin nodded. Me, or the journal. "I'm already looking forward to your return."

You blushed at his words and smiled goofily. "I'll see you later, then!"

"You will," Jumin beamed as you nervously and quickly left the penthouse. Just as soon as they had gone, his intrusive thoughts popped back into his mind - ideas of there possibly being someone else in your life.

"Wine," he grumbled, standing from his desk and slumping towards the kitchen. He was paranoid; that was a likely possibility. But as magnetic and charismatic as you were, there were undoubtedly several people who wanted to court you as much as he did.

Jumin rubbed the bridge of his nose after pouring and downing a glass of wine, the lack of sleep from watching you every night finally catching up with him. A fifteen-minute nap didn't sound so terrible.

He started to move towards the couch - when he noticed your opened journal on the kitchen island. He immediately averted his eyes and closed it delicately. You weren't far; he could still hand it to you.

Rushing towards the door, Jumin flung it open - and there you stood, your hand raised to knock.

"I forgot my —"

"Journal?" Jumin greeted, handing it to you.

You pressed the leather to your chest. "... Thank you, Jumin."

"I didn't look inside," Jumin frowned.

"I never said you did," you giggled. 

Jumin cleared his throat. "No, I would never invade your privacy. Or anyone's privacy, for that matter. Besides..." he sighed. "I recognize the importance of love letters."

Your brows furrowed. "Love letters? You think I'm... writing love letters?"

"It's a rather bold assumption, isn't it?" Jumin's hands fiddled restlessly with his sleeves. "Perhaps I was too hasty in assuming you would return my affections."

"A... Affections...?"

"This is very unlike me. To make assumptions without any evidence, that is," Jumin spoke, pacing about. "But I've seen you with that journal in your hands, and I've seen your dazzling smile directed at it... I can only assume at this point."

You stared blankly at him. The look in your eye was enough to stun him into silence.

"Jumin... have you considered that I've been writing about you?"

His heart skipped a beat. His face was flushed, he knew that was certain, and he turned away to regain any semblance of control. "Pardon me?"

You opened your journal and, like your favorite book-loving heroine, gently thrust it to Jumin's line of sight. "He is kind, though he doesn't think he is... meek, though he has everything... he keeps watching me, even now..."

Jumin's eyes darted before his curiosity ultimately won. "May I...?"

You moved the journal closer to him. "Is it possible for me to fall for someone so quickly...? He treats me like a queen... no, an empress... no, a goddess! He is always worried when he has so much on his plate... he is often checking up on me. He isn't rushing me into making a decision - whether I want to be in this relationship or not. He even told me the other day that he would wait for me, and I truly believe that he will respect my decision either way... and truthfully... I..."

Jumin's heart hammered in his chest. His eyes scanned the delicacy of your handwriting and... the trembling of your hands. His eyes found the words you failed to read aloud: I want him.

Your voice trembled as you peered at him. "My journal entries nowadays are all about you, Jumin. You've been on my mind since day one... all I've ever been writing about is you." 

They swept through him suddenly, blurring his vision; his emotions ravaged him relentlessly, and his thoughts began to run rampant. You could easily sense his uneasiness, and you immediately felt regret. "I'm sorry if this is too much so suddenly, Jumin -"

You were taken by surprise as Jumin wrapped his arms around you, crushing you against him in a hug. Your journal fell to the ground, but you didn't care to grab it. You could hear his heart thundering in his chest; you could feel his body growing warmer. Closing your eyes, you pressed yourself against Jumin and savored the wave of emotion that seemed to surround both of you. 

[jengarie]

#showyourprocess !

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES — When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag up to 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

Thank you, @rinielle for tagging me! She chose the piece above (original post), and oh boy this one was a whole ass rollercoaster ride! Unfortunately, I hadn't turned on the timelapse feature for this but I'll try to go through each part of the process as best as I can!

The photos I'm gonna upload are gonna be a mix of screenshots and literal photos of my screen, because I'm taking some of them from my updates to friends, since a lot of the steps got lost in my painting process.

But before that, let me tag some other amazing creators!

@dragonji: this gif art!

@candicewright: this yibo painting!

@wendashanren: this gifset!

@mylastbraincql: this gif!

I haven't been able to keep track of who's been tagged so apologies if you've already done this! Also, no pressure to do it at all if you would rather not! <3

Planning

Sometimes, I get an idea first and find reference photos to go with that idea. But for this one, I sought out a reference photo first, and built an idea on top of it!

After that, I roughly sketch out the base pose. Usually, this looks very messy, but it doesn't really matter as long as I understand which part goes where!

The idea for the background didn't really come until the creation process because I don't think I really planned this to be a full piece.

Creation

Sketching

Honestly, from this point on, it's more of trial and error.

So, I redid the the initial base pose—made it cleaner and a little bit more detailed. See: the added definition in their arm muscles, the rearrangement of Wei Wuxian's legs, and Lan Wangji's hand on Wei Wuxian's back. If you look at the second photo, I also changed the pose a bit midway—I tend to edit as I go sometimes when I change my mind. (For this, I thought, given the Lan arm strength, it would be better to make Lan Wangji look more at ease carrying Wei Wuxian. This gets covered by the robes anyway though, so it didn't matter much in the end.)

I also started adding details to the base! I usually start with the face and then the hair! I usually go for the clothes next, but I dreaded the robes in this piece so I guess that's why I ended up with a basic idea of what I wanted for the background instead LOL I also figured out how I want the final crop to look like, so I blocked out all the other areas with an extra layer!

Okay, onto the part that killed me like ten times: the robes. There are a lot of interactions between their robes here given their pose, and not to mention they also have layers upon layers on each of them! So, to maintain my sanity and to keep track of which part is which, I color coded them into the most colorful sketch I've ever made.

Another reason why I filled in each layer of robe with a solid block of color, is so that all the lines underneath gets covered. Without all of the colors, the actual outline actually looks like the one on the right. What a nightmare!

I also ignored the crop again for this part, because it's always better to draw past your borders, in case you decide to rotate or tilt or whatever your piece later on. I didn't do the feet anymore though, because that I was sure wouldn't show in the final piece anymore.

After that, I did the sketch one more time and then started adding the base colors. (I didn't have a screenshot of just the base colors, and the final CSP file is a nightmare so I copy pasted the layers into a new canvas to show you guys :') )

By the way, I drew their robes flowing this way, because I wanted it to frame the lower arch of the moon behind them for the composition. It was a little frustrating that I couldn't get Lan Wangji's robes a little higher because of Wei Wuxian's legs but I later filled in the empty space with his forehead ribbon anyway, so it all worked out in the end!

Painting

Because apparently, I was a masochist back then, I merged the base colors all into one layer and started adding shadows to the robes. (These days, I add shadows first and then, merge. It's much easier this way.)

And then, I started painting! Again, I did the face first and then the hair, before finally the robes. This was my first time painting side profiles and honestly it was quite a pain to figure out LOL but !!! I think I did a good job and I'm proud of how it turned out. I again used reference photos for this one but I can't link any because they were just several random Pinterest photos that I didn't save.

Another thing to note is that I use the mesh transform tool a lot, especially on faces. That's largely why Lan Wangji's face looks so different in the latter two!

And then I went with the robes. Somewhere along the way, I realized I didn't like how I planned to do Lan Wangji's sleeves and the flowy part of Wei Wuxian's robes and I... decided, with much dread, to do them over. So I sketched on top of the painted layers and redid the robes, again.

It was at this point that I decided to take a break from this piece because it was honestly very draining! I think it took about three weeks before I decided to open the file again and continue it.

When I did, I just finished painting the rest of the robes and their hands. The blue details on Lan Wangji's outer robes were painted on a separate layer that I put on Multiply. I probably did more adjustments to the face and hair and stuff, because my painting process is honestly a mess :')

Final Adjustments

I added some correction layers on certain areas to fix some of the colors. See: Lan Wangji's sleeve becoming much brighter and paler; Wei Wuxian's legs having less contrast. And then I merged all of the layers (excluding the background) and added a bit of blur. See: Wei Wuxian's ponytail; the entire lower part; the flowing forehead ribbon. My reasoning for this is so that most of the detail (and therefore the flow of the eye) goes to their faces and expressions!

And then, I put a blue Overlay layer on low opacity to make Wangxian blend better with the background, added a bit of shadow on the inside and the lower sections and added the glowing details for the added flair. I initially wanted sparkles and/or stars but they didn't turn out as well as this did. I also upped the contrast by a little for the entire piece!

Aaaand, that's it! In truth, I did a bit more color adjustments to the whole piece, but I was a dummy who forgot to turn them back on before posting so ... oh well.

Posting

Before posting, I upload it either on my spare private Twitter account or on a drafted Tumblr post so I can check the colors on my phone. This is because the colors on different devices can look very different, and I would at the very least want all my pieces to look nice on both of my devices!

And then, once I deem it satisfactory, I just try to think of a caption and post! Some artists wait for a certain time where most of their followers are active, but I didn't have a lot of MDZS followers at this point so it didn't really matter to me.

It still doesn't really; I haven't actually been able to figure out when my MDZS followers are awake even now.

[the-writer-nerd-ro]

What's up guys, gals, and nonbinary pals! I had the idea for a story where Huey, Dewey, and Louie all realize they're genderqueer based on the art of three talented and wonderful Ducktales artist including this post by @vegetabletaxi, this post by @duck-blurred-vision, and this post by @sassphie

I cannot accurately describe how much I appreciate people in the fandom who give characters queer headcanons. Here's my own contribution, hope you enjoy!

Join The Club

“Some people really hate Scrooge,” Dewey mused, lying on the sofa, one foot touching Louie’s leg as Louie played a racing game on their single shared console and Huey sat on the other end of Dewey, reading through Finch’s journal.

“Yeah, some people really hate us, too. Remember that dumb singing pirate? He thinks you’re his mortal enemy, Dewey,” Louie laughed.

“Yeah, well every villain in the city hates you,” Huey remarked.

Louie laughed, “That truly was my greatest scheme.” 

“I just wonder sometimes if they’re right. I mean obviously, they’re evil, but maybe sometimes Scrooge is the one in the wrong. Maybe he has an agenda.”

“I don’t have a genda’,” Louie remarked instinctively. Dewey sat up and Huey stared at their sibling. 

“What was that?” Huey asked with a small smile.

“Oh, that’s what I forgot to do last week. I’m agender. Huey inspired me to consider, or well, reconsider gender and I realized that I don’t vibe with gender. I’m not a guy, I’m not a girl, I’m a threat.” 

Huey got choked up, “I inspired you?”

“Yeah, of course. You’re my genderfluid icon.”

Huey got up and sat between Louie and Dewey, wrapping Louie up in a hug, “I’m proud of you, Louie. You’re my genderless icon.” Louie grinned as Dewey piled onto the hug as well. 

“Oh my gosh,” Dewey said excitedly, “If you guys are coming out I’m coming out too.” 

Louie and Huey looked at Dewey expectantly.

“I’m nonbinary I want to use they/them pronouns.”

“That’s awesome,” Huey congratulated, hugging Dewey as well, “I’m proud of both of you.”

“It’s all you,” Louie said, “if you hadn’t started questioning your identity I never would’ve gotten the courage to question my own.”

“I thought you said my coming out was nerdy.” Huey remembered almost reading a Wikipedia article out loud to them.

“The nerdiest. It was still brave. We’re proud of you too, Huey. Whatever you identify as.”

“Do you think Uncle Donald would buy me a skirt?” Huey pondered.

“He’d do you one better and get Daisy to make you whatever your heart desired,” Louie pointed out.

“Ooh, I want a skirt too, then,” Dewey said, looking excited.

“You gonna join us in skirts, Lou?” 

“I think I’ll stick to suits for now.”

“Do you think…” Huey added, looking a bit nervous, “Do you think they’d all accept us?” 

“Of course they will, they’re family,” Dewey said, “Let’s go tell somebody the good news. I bet mom’s around.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to come out to anyone else yet,” Huey admitted, “It was hard enough telling you two and I knew deep down that you’d support me.”

“Huey, every single person in this family is queer what are you so afraid of?” Louie mentioned.

“That’s a good point.”

“You wanna go tell mom that her little boys aren’t boys?” Dewey asked, vibrating with excitement.

“I’m a boy some of the time,” Huey pointed out, “Not right now, but like, sometimes.” 

“Oh, what are your pronouns right now?” Dewey had asked Huey almost every day what pronouns worked best that day. Dewey had done their absolute best to be supportive since Huey had come out as genderfluid a few weeks earlier.  

“They/them today,” Huey decided after a minute of thinking.

“Ayy,” Dewey said, doing finger guns.

“Ayy,” Huey did finger guns right back, though they felt a little stupid. 

"Louie, what are your pronouns? Do you even have pronouns?" Dewey wondered. 

“I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I think that if someone has to refer to me as anything other than my name I want it/itself as my pronouns,” Louie decided. 

“Can I still call you Captain Lost?” Dewey asked, poking Louie in the side.

“Captain’s not a gendered word so… Yes?”

“And when you take over the world, King or Queen?” Huey played along. 

“Or Quing!” Dewey added. 

“Your Majesty works fine,” Louie said, putting a hand to its head as if modeling an invisible crown. 

Huey laughed, “You got it, Your Majesty.” 

“Can we tell mom now?” Dewey asked, “Please, please, please?” They’d just figured themself out and really wanted to tell everyone, as excited as Huey was reserved. Louie didn’t care either way and had literally just forgotten to tell Dewey and Huey any earlier than this. 

"Fine, we can tell mom. But we should probably have a game plan. I don't want to just blurt it out or make a joke-" Dewey had already taken off.

"Oh shoot we better catch them before they run all the way out of the closet without us," Louie joked. Huey nodded seriously and sprinted to catch up, leaving Louie behind going at a Louie pace.

When Louie and Huey found Della, Dewey was making a scene. This wasn’t unusual for Dewey, they were always making a scene, but the dramatics were kind of extra for this one. 

“Your sons are dead!” Dewey said, grasping at their heart.

Della looked around at her children, extremely confused, “What…? Did I have other sons?”

“Dewey just means that um, well,” Huey was stammering.

“Sons isn’t the right term, anymore, mom. We’re not cis,” Louie helpfully picked up the slack.

“Daughters?” Della asked tentatively. Louie and Dewey shook their heads in unison and Huey did the more or less symbol with his hand.

“I’m genderfluid,” Huey said, “so sometimes daughter is the right word, sometimes son, but right now I don’t really feel like either a girl or a boy.”

“And neither of us feel like a girl or a boy ever,” Dewey said, slinging an arm around Louie, “but for different reasons. I’m just nonbinary, they/them.”

“And I’m Agender. Right now I want to use it/itself if I need to use pronouns, but that might change,” Louie said.

Della beamed at her kids and pulled them into the biggest hug.

“I’m so proud of all of you and I’m really, really glad you felt like you could tell me. I love you kids so much."

"We love you too," Huey promised, and their siblings nodded.

"Okay, what can I do to make this transition easier?"

Huey raised his hand, "I want to grow out my hair. And I'd like to wear dresses and skirts sometimes."

"I also want to try dresses and skirts," Dewey piped up, bouncing up and down on their feet.

"Awesome! We'll definitely go shopping. Louie? Do you need anything, sweetheart?"

Louie thought long and hard, "I want a pin. With my flag on it."

Della nodded, super excited about all of this, "Of course! Everyone gets flags and pins. Is there anything else you want to tell your old ma?"

Huey, Dewey, and Louie looked at each other and shrugged. Gender had been hard enough to figure out. Everything else wouldn't click into place for several more years.

"Am I the first person you told?" Della asked, and she could barely contain her excitement when they nodded.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, we have to tell the others! If you kids want to…"

"Maybe just Uncle Donald, to start with?" Louie suggested, "And maybe don't tell him we're dead, Dewey." 

Dewey sulked, "That line was brilliant!"

"It was a bit confusing, honey," Della admitted, patting Dewey's shoulder.

"Ah well. Huey, do you want to do the honors?" Dewey offered. Huey swallowed hard and nodded. 

"I'm not as good at the telling part," Huey mumbled.

Della wrapped her arms around them once more.

"It's okay, dear. We're all here supporting you, Huey."

"Thanks, mom. I really appreciate it." Huey steeled themself and led the others out to find Donald. Huey had to have been the most nervous. They were afraid that Uncle Donald wouldn't understand the terminology or that they would overthink things, or panic. And, as Huey had been every night since they told their siblings, they were worried that this whole thing was, well, made up. It was an irrational fear, plenty of people were genderfluid. It was real, it was proven, it was valid. But until today, when their siblings had joined the club with their own diverging identities, they hadn't really felt very valid. 

Huey reached for a hand and found Louie's. Dewey took Huey's other hand and squeezed it. 

"It's going to be okay," Dewey whispered, "Uncle Donald loves us. And we love you. We've got your back, Huey."

"Always," Louie said, nodding in affirmation.

"Okay, let's go tell him," Huey decided, managing a smile, "and if that goes well we can think about telling Webby and Uncle Scrooge."

"How do we find him?" Dewey mused, looking around. 

Their mom solved that one, taking a deep breath and bellowing, "DONALD!" It only took a minute for Donald to scramble in a panic to their location. 

"What's wrong? Who's hurt?" Donald asked frantically, checking Huey, Dewey, and Louie over for injuries.

Dewey opened their mouth to speak and Louie side-eyed them. It was Huey's turn.

“Uncle Donald, I’m uh, I’m not cis. None of us are.”

Donald took a few moments to process that information before he nodded, “Okay, what are your pronouns?”

“I’m genderfluid, so it depends on how I feel, right now they/them,” Huey felt a huge weight lift off of their chest.

“I’m nonbinary, they/them all the time,” Dewey said proudly.

Louie felt a little nervous now, not fully sure of its pronouns, “I’m agender, so I don’t really have a gender. Uh, my pronouns are it/itself. But I’d really just prefer people to use my name.”

“I can do that. I suppose you’re my…” Donald wracked his brain for a second, “My niblings. That’s the gender-neutral term for niece or nephew, right?” 

“That’s so cute,” Della gushed, “niblings. Is there a gender-neutral term for kids- wait kids is a gender-neutral term for kids. I might be stupid.”

Everyone laughed, Huey, Dewey, and Louie feeling a lot better and extremely loved, glad they had each other.

[pikemoreno]

perfection

pairing: catfish morales x reader

request: anon: I was wondering if you could do a Frankie drabble/one-shot about him comforting someone who’s experiencing anxiety from being a perfectionist. It’s something I could really use as of late. Have as much artistic liberty as you please! Thank you in advance, whether you do it or not. The consideration alone means a lot!

word count: 1.4k

warnings: description of some intense perfectionism and anxiety, a look at what my personal panic attacks look like (but it’s pretty mild)

a/n: this was really therapeutic to write. honestly? this is a situation that happened to me except no one came to my car to get me. it was nice to work through that.

It’s not life or death, you know that, and yet, to fail feels like death. It feels like the death of the ideals you’d set for yourself, the death of your reputation, a vague sense of some kind of death you can’t quite place. 

To not be immaculate is to be unworthy of being in your position, of doing the work.

To not say everything correctly in interacting with others, to accidentally flub your words, or worse, to say something upsetting is to be unworthy of interaction.

To be unworthy looks like apologies and spirals of more perfectionism: I must prove myself wrong by doing this perfectly next time.

With each subsequent failure comes anxiety with trying again. What if I am never perfect?

You won’t be.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Frankie does not understand your struggle on that level. Of course he’s a hard worker and meticulous in making sure he does his job well-- lives being on the line requires it. But he does not expect perfection of himself; he’d let go of perfection long ago. He’d had to hurt one too many people, made one too many life and death errors. He never forgot it, but he had made his peace with it.

He’d been with you in your moments of anxiety before, but never quite like this. Today had been a bad one: you made a huge mistake at work and, while already feeling bad about it, your boss ripped you for it. You fixed the issue but now as you drive home you find yourself replaying the day over and over. You harp on the mistake and analyze every bit of the conversation with your boss, finding everything you could’ve said and done differently until tears blur your vision and your breathing is labored.

As you pull into your driveway, you find Frankie’s pick-up there already. You know intuitively that you need someone to drown out the lies right now, to reset your thoughts and bring outside perspective. You know that no one is better for that than your Frankie, but you can’t bring yourself to go inside yet. He can’t see you like this. It’s a silly thing to be so upset over and when you felt better you would be wishing that you’d never brought it up. So you just sit in your car and cry alone, letting sobs freely wrack through your body with whatever noises and stuttering breaths come with them. 

It’s not long before Frankie comes out to see why you haven’t come inside, certainly not expecting to find you with shoulders shaking, head on your steering wheel. He knocks as lightly as he can on your passenger side window to get you to open up and winces when it startles you. 

“Sorry,” he mouths through the window, then gestures to the handle.

Let me in?

You begrudgingly unlock it, wiping at your eyes, trying to regain your composure and stifle the panic.

As if you could pretend with him.

He sits in the passenger seat, silent, unmoving but his eyes are on you. He won’t say or do anything until you do. He’s never seen this from you, has no idea what’s happening, and is frankly terrified. He wanted to punch whoever did this to you. 

Of course, he didn’t yet realize that it’s you who did this to you. How does he intimidate your way out of that?

“It’s nothing. Just a bad day at work,” you sniffle, you look over as his expression changes.

It says, “We both know that’s not true,” without a word being needed. You start crying again in frustration and in one fell swoop Frankie gets back out of the car, over to the door on your side, and he opens it. You turn sideways in your seat as he kneels in front of you, taking your hands in his.

“You don’t have to say anything right now, but I’d really like to know what’s going on and what I can do to help.” His eyes were soft and sincere, the circles he was rubbing on your hand, gentle. You gave him a tear-soaked smile, opening your mouth to speak and then stopping yourself for fear of your voice just breaking. “It’s ok,” he reassures. “Start with what I can do right now, if you can?”

“Just be here. That’s enough,” you whisper, lightly playing with his hands to let out nervous energy. He laughs a little.

“That I can do. Can we go inside where it’s more comfortable?” You nod and he leaves a kiss on your forehead as he grabs your bag from work from the backseat and wraps an arm around you as you walk inside.

He sits on the couch, leaning against the arm rest, legs up, and drags you down to sit between his legs. His lips press to your shoulder as you start to talk, playing with his hands in yours once again to calm down, letting the sniffles subside. 

“I royally fucked up at work today.” Oh. He knows where this is going now.

“Baby--” 

“And I already felt miserable. If- if I can’t do my job right then I shouldn’t be doing it.”

“That’s not--”

“But then he lashes out at me and confirms everything I already thought.” Frankie does not try to interject again to ask the “he” and leaves it to context. He’s learned it’s better to let you get all of your frazzled words out and get the details later, if needed. 

“And I just can’t get it out of my head.” Your hands left his to rub at your face. “It just keeps repeating over and over: that I’m stupid and don’t deserve to be where I am and that I’ll never get opportunities like that one again because all I did was screw it up.”

“Did he say that? Your boss?” You didn’t see Frankie’s eyes narrow, but you knew him well enough to hear it in his voice.

“Well, no--” you start. His turn to interrupt.

“So this is all coming from where?” 

“Me.” He hums in response.

“So no one actually said that to you?”

“No,” you sigh. You walked right into this.

“This is all just from you? Your own mind?”

“Ugh... Yes. Get to the point,” you laughed. He gave you a light thump on the head. You turn to face him, sitting cross-legged on the couch in front of him.

“Did you fix the issue?”

“Well, yeah, but--” 

“Great. Whole thing is settled then. Your boss was, I assume, frustrated with the problem, not you: a hard-worker who he’s already said was one of the best. He has high expectations of you. He knows what you’re capable of, so any mistake is going to surprise him. He also knows you’re capable of fixing it. If he wasn’t, wouldn’t he have handed it off to someone else?” You shrug. “And as for you, my dear.” His hands rested softly on either side of your face. “You’re too hard on yourself. You’re so good at what you do-- everything you do. It’s kind of annoying actually. You’re better at loading the fucking dishwasher than I am. I don’t know how you always take what I did and rearrange it to get twice as much stuff in there, but you do it every single time.”

“Stop,” you roll your eyes, giving him a little shove on the shoulder. He grabs that hand and kisses it before letting it return to you.

“I’m serious!” he grins, “You won’t ever be perfect… But I have it on good authority that you’re as close as they come. And I can guarantee your boss won’t have another word to say about it on Monday.” 

“I know,” you admit with a sigh.

“Good. Act like it.” The words in themselves seem harsh, but his smile is pleading and kind, “You know it’s gonna be fine, so don’t let it worry you. And don’t sit in your car thinking about it next time. Come sit right here with me.” He takes his face in your hands again to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Alright,” you cede, moving back to sitting back between his legs on the couch.

“Alright,” he mimics your tone, wrapping his arms around you. “Some takeout and a movie to make it better?”

“You already did that, but I’ll take the takeout and the movie anyway.”

Taglist: @acomplicatedprofession​ @hdlynn​ @makaela27 @catfishingmorales​ @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​ @princessbatears​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives​ @space-floozy

[appleb0mb]

Agapanthus - Art Process (Part Two)

Down below!

Step Three: Coloring 

When I was planning to do Vil, I definitely wanted to give an angelic and regal vibe for him. To me, angels represent purity or at the very least - perfection. Angels are known for their beauty, so I thought that Vil would be absolutely perfect for the image. 

For the scheme, since angles are bright and light in color; I chose to do Vil in that same format too.

For choosing the flower, I decide with one that not only represented his goals of beauty - but his immense strength and uniqueness as well ( ‘to special ones only.’)

Moreso, the Purple agapanthus is considered as something that is worth great value and effortful (’to those who deserve it’) which really hit the mark for Vil. 

My first search for his flower was the Calla Lily, but I realized that it didn’t fit Vil; the flower seemed rather plain and superficial, so I scrapped that flower for someone else instead.

As for the Crocus, I added that for design. The Crocus represents youthfulness, gladness, and glee (more written on the website) which really accentuated the goals of beauty (youth -> youthfulness) but a reference to Pomefiore: Memories as well! :D

Step Four: Shading

For the shading I used:

Purples + Blues - Agapanthus, Crocus, Poofy Things (Shoulders), Hair, Halos, Eyes

Greens - Stem of Agapanthuses and Crocuses

Oranges + Yellows - Hair, Eyeshadow, Poofy Things (Shoulders), Crown, Halos, Skin, Pattern on Shoulders, Upper Body, Lips

Tips and Tricks?

I tried to do some form of light, but it wasn’t working out. Luckily, the next album (;D) has compensated for that. 

I forgot to say - but a good idea when shading accurately (especially the program I use, Krita) is to FIRST DO THE BASE (coloring), THEN go to Group ->> Quick Clipping Group. There will be a layer called a Mask Layer - that’s the layer you use to darken or highlight your areas.

Remember when doing your shading, that you shouldn’t choose random colors. Most artists use the darken (under the word ‘Layers’ and you’ll see the word ‘Normal’. You can then click on the word and it’ll show you a ton of modes) to shade their stuff to get their work done more efficiently and quickly. 

For me, I pick out the colors myself to practice my color theory in a way (not the logical side of it). I mainly choose use hues to shade to make my art look colorful.

For example - the Agapanthuses: light purple -> dark purple. 

Different types of shading can change the atmosphere of your piece - so you must be careful with it. Using tints (+white), tones (+grey) and shades (+blacks) can make your piece more interesting, unique, and more dimensional in a way, so you should definitely try it out!

If I sound really stupid just remember that I looked half of this up lol

Step Five & Six: Final Background + Blur + Dark Blue & Purple Lineart + Loopy Design + Highlights

Lastly, I used eight layers to highlight and shade Vil.  

Note that this is different from Step 4 because in Step 4 you shade the OBJECT/THING/BODY. Here in Step 5 and 6, you shade the ENTIRE THING.

E.g, Step 4 -> The petals and stems of the flower. More specific areas of the piece. Requires breaking down different sections of the artwork.

Step 5 or Step 6 or Both -> The whole piece, all areas. Focuses on the atmosphere and direction of the piece overall.

Some of the layers were duplicated for a darker effect, while some layers highlighted parts of his design (for e.g, the hair, halos). 

Highlighting:

To highlight, I would duplicate the base and/or the shading layer I want highlighted on TOP of the dark layer. This helps that area to be excluded from the parts I want to shade. Just note that you can only do this once you’ve fully done the base (coloring) and the shading. 

When duplicating, make sure the duplicate is OUT of the Quick Clipping Group or else it won’t work. 

Sometimes, highlighting is as simple as erasing the shadows of the piece. For example, parts of Vil’s hair is darker than others. The more dark layers you have, the more you need to erase in order to make the artwork ‘pop-out’. But in the artwork above, this has been done poorly.

For Blur:

Normally I would duplicate the base and/or shading layer and put it on TOP of the dark layer before using the Gaussian Blur ( Filter (top-left corner of default workspace of Krita) ->> Blur ->> Gaussian Blur). If it doesn’t work, I put the duplicate layer on TOP of the lineart instead. 

Dark Purple + Blue Lineart: 

For this I would duplicate the lineart, use the Contiguous Selection Tool to select the lineart ( middle left corner of default workspace of Krita with a shape of a fairy’s wand) and changing it to the color I want. In this case, it would be purple and blue. Note that purple and blue are TWO separate layers of the same lineart.

Lastly, you place the two layers on TOP of the original lineart, and there you go!

To get a glitchy or glassy effect, you lower the LAYER OPACITY to less than 100, and move the layer either a little bit to the left or a little bit to the right, and you’re done! 

Loopy Design: 

Oh I just used horizontal mirror tool ( above, right of file name) and whipped up the loop lol. I think I did it on two separate layers before moving it a little bit more down or something 

Step Seven: Title + Final Piece!

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!! WE MADE IT - YOU MADE IT AND I MADE IT!!!!! :DDDDDDDDD

But overall, I believed that the end result was done poorly.

Light and shadow was not mainly evident here, even though I put full on effort into my work. In my opinion, this was a life lesson for upcoming works in the future and hope I remembered what NOT to do LOL

Completion of Track Cover: December 30th, 2020 - 2:17 PM

Time taken: 3 days (2 days if being more specific)

Release of Track: December 31st, 2020

I’m such an idiot calling it an album cover before-

Anyhow...

Thank you for supporting the fan-made music (and art) of Twisted Wonderland x Date A Live!

Curious? Agapanthus [ Art Process - Part One ] here!

Wanna hear some music? Agapanthus [ TWSTxDAL Track ] here!

[and-the-world-is-quiet-here]

Is it really drowning if you haven't touched the water?

oops I did it again.........

“Nooooo” she howled in frustration.

She was done. She couldn't do it anymore. She grabbed the cards on the table and shoved them onto the floor. They were stupid, she knew they were stupid, and yet she didn't even know what stupid really meant. 

“Done!” she screeched 

“Done! Done! Done! Done Done!”

“Cass! Cass no, this isn't okay!”  Babs yelled after her but she wasn't listening; she just wanted to get out. She grabbed the handle of the door and pulled until it popped out of the frame fleeing into the dark night.

She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't really care. She just needed to get away. They expected too much. It had been only weeks since that man “fixed her” and 2 days since her mother tried to reverse it. Everything was moving so fast. She couldn't catch up. So she ran. She ran until her surroundings were a blur, just a fast moving image flashing past her. Like her thoughts used to be. God, she couldn't even be alone in her own head anymore.

Everywhere she went he followed her, clinging to her and pulling her back down into the water. Or above it as they would say. 

The wind hit her face, blasting her tears right back into her eyes, and chilling her nose until she couldn't feel it. That was good. She hated feeling things.

She stopped and climbed up onto a roof, clearing the fire escape in a single bound. She was somewhere in the narrows. She thought. She couldn't be too shure, Babs said it was a part of the city, the wrong part of her mind said it was a small space, and her, the real her, said it was a loud cramped place with short building and lots of crime, And it smelt like falafels. That meaning seemed the rightest to her but the edges of it were sharp now, not smooth, and it made her head hurt to think about it. 

She hated it, what he did to her. He took her thoughts and made them make sense to him, and now they were all out of order. Worse, they were just wrong. She wanted it to go back to the way it was before. 

She had tried to be happy, happy like they wanted her to be. But it hadn’t worked so she did something else. She tried to fix herself. Meta humans, telepaths, martial artists. No one could read bodies like she had once before, and no one could teach her how to do it again. 

Finally, she had turned to her mother, Shiva, a name that had crept in the shadows of her youth watching, watching and waiting. She asked her mother to fix her, and she failed, the woman who had never failed before. She went through days of brutal training for nothing. 

It still hurt to think. It hurt to read, to write. He stranded her in a sea of pain and the people she loved cried tears of joy for her newly found normality. 

She hated them. 

She loved them.

 She cried in her sleep and Babs said she was ”adjusting”. She had grabbed batman by the shoulders and yelled and yelled and he...He smiled like this was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Before he would have known she was screaming “FIX ME! FIX ME!”. But now he ignored it, and acted like she was confused. 

So she left. 

And yet they wouldn't leave her alone. 

She turned around and there he was -Batman in all his freaking glory; she could throw up. 

“I brought fries!” 

He held the bag up and her stomach growled. They had been going through the stupid cards for so long that Babs forgot to get dinner. 

She was hungry. 

She was getting soft.

She turned back and ignored him, it would be a good lesson in restraint. But he seemed determined to feed her, coming down and sitting right next to her. He spread out fries, milkshakes, and bat burgers between them. 

“Babs said you might be hungry” 

she snarled and grabbed a packet of fries. Well, when in Rome. 

“Babs also said you'd probably be upset” 

“mph” 

“I know kiddo”

Now she was mad, he didn't know! He just pretended he did! He just pretended that she was frustrated she wasn't getting it but she wasn't! She didn't want to get it!

“NO!” she screeched 

“NO! You don't know. You don't know. I hate it.”

She grabbed his hand and pressed it against her head. 

“This doesn't make sense! It used to make sense!!”

 She released him and fell back onto her but; sitting dangerously close to the edge. 

“What did he do to me? Why are you happy he did this to me?”

A million emotions flickered across his face, hurt, anger, fear, despair. All these emotions, all these words, they didn't match! Before she would have known what he was thinking. But now….. now she just couldn't. 

“Cass…” His voice broke and her anger wavered

“I just wanted what was best for you, I didn't know you felt this way.” He was sorry. 

“Sorry” Her mind whispered 

“Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry” But what did it mean? 

“I..I..I.. He was right'' 

She gasped for breath. Desperate to string together sounds as she forgot the meanings of them. ”He was right. My mind was an ocean. It was filled with images, sounds, and smells. And they all liked to blend together. It was messy but it made sense, Batman. Bats, it made so much sense!” 

She couldn't breathe. Oh god she couldn't breathe! 

“No-Now” 

Gasping, gasping for air. 

“Now it's wrong. It's wrong and I can't fix it.” There was a pause and then he was moving towards her. Before, she would have been on the other side of the roof already. But now...now she was trapped in a bone crushing hug, feet dangling over the edge of a building, in the most dangerous city in the world. 

“What did he do to you Cass?” 

He whispered; like if he talked any louder she’d crumble. Frankly, she just might. 

“He broke me.” 

“He took the waves and made them still, froze them, like ice. Then he shattered them and pieced them back together, but there all wrong! He put them back together wrong! 

And he stamped words on them, but the words don't make sense. Before it was all blended together and he couldn't separate them right.” 

She took her finger and placed it on his forehead. 

“And he didn't know what you and Babs knew, just what just what he thought was right. So what I think something is, and what Babs says it is doesn't match up.”

She paused, but she couldn't stop now. Everything she learned, everything he made her learn was falling out of her mouth. 

All the pieces in her head were less sharp and it felt AmaZinG. 

“I can't write, I can't read, I don't think correctly, and to speak….to speak….”

She was gasping again and he held her tighter. 

“To speak it's like…….” 

She thought of when she was a little girl, when things made the most sense and everything was just action and noise. There was a beach in those memories…. A place….maybe it was Nanda Parbat like in the stories Alfred tells her. She played with her father there. 

No...Wait….No… 

She was shuddering, something was wrong, it wasn't working, the pieces were sharpening and……..

Relief...Relief...She hadn't played with her father. She fought with her father, the thoughts settled in her head and she relaxed...these thoughts, these words they were like….

“To speak, It's like standing on sand. It's not sturdy, it shifts when you walk, and when you run, It tries to swallow you whole.” 

Oh she was tired, so tired of trying to run on a ground that wanted to eat her. She wanted to go back to the beach, when she was a child and things seemed so simple. 

“Home” she said in a small voice 

“I want to go home” he looked at her 

“okay kiddo” 

She expected to be let go, to be told to walk back home to the clock tower. To the flashcards, and the angry Babs, but that was not the case. As soon as the words left his mouth he gathered her up in his arms, the burgers long forgotten. He took her to the Bat-mobile, leaving her in the backseat meant for scared children, he drove her off into the dark. 

She didn't know where to, and she didn't care, she just let the darkness take her. 

When she awoke she was in the manor. Tucked under heavy blankets in the biggest bed she had ever seen; Bruce sitting next to her at the bedside. Yellow flames illuminating his face.

She would have been concerned if she was awake, but the emotional turmoil of the past few weeks, the physical exhaustion she experienced with Shiva, the blow out fight with Babs, and the breakdown with Batman had left her exhausted and barely conscious. 

“Bats” she croaked out. 

She was tired, oh she was so bitterly tired, and the darkness was oh so sweet. 

He looked up from his book. His glasses were too far down to be that useful, and they sat crooked on his broken nose. She laughed deliciously, huh, she must have caught something in the cold.

 “What's so funny Cass” his deep baritone rumbled so she laughed some more. 

“I'm so tired Batmern” he looked troubled 

“Then sleep” 

“I can't, it hurts.”

“Then let it go Cass, just let go.” 

“but what if there's nothing left?

She was scared. So very scared. She couldn't bear the thought of being nothing but a hollow shell.

“Then we'll rebuild Cassie-o” 

“Okay”

Her voice was small but it moved mountains. There was force behind it, a strength that came from her whole being. 

She tried, she tried to let go, but it hurt terribly, It burned and she could faintly hear someone screaming. She wondered who it was. There was blackness all around her, and silence apart from the screams. It felt like an eternity but it must have been seconds.

She reached out grasping at the sheets, searching for a familiar hand. A cold touch pushed her hair out of her face. 

She realized that it wasn't the hand that was cool but her that was hot. 

Finally after what felt like years of screaming into darkness a light appeared. It was a beach, one on which a girl played with her father. She tried to swim towards them but the tide pulled her away.…..she wanted too….she wanted to….

A voice whispered in here ear, faint and far away but still clear 

“let go Cassandra” 

So she did, she let herself be pulled out by the tide. And watched as she was pushed further and further away from the sad little girl, the slippery sand, and the angry man. She let herself wash out to sea, and felt relief when she realized it was over. 

This was her ocean, it was still here, she wasn't empty now, her mind had been waiting for her all along. She was free, she was oh so totally free. 

Yet she still felt sad, she had let go of the past her father forced upon her. And The future the man made for her. 

She was free and she was terribly lost. 

She panicked, if she was not the little girl who was she? She had never been someone else before! She was drowning, the waves were huge and pushed her under so she couldn't breathe. She started to tremble and the world flickered. 

It was a dark ocean. 

It was kind eyes. 

It was air leaving her body. 

It was a cool touch. 

It was a little girl drowning. 

It was strong arms. 

It was strong arms. 

It was still strong arms!

It was strong arms reaching into the water and fishing her out, breathing life back into her. 

It was a voice whispering to her, telling her it was alright, that she could hang on for now. They had all the time in the world. 

It was a voice

It was a voice

It was her father.

“You can be a little girl for now Cassie. It's okay. Worry about being strong later.”

She woke up gasping for air hacking up red water- or blood she was coughing up blood.

The fire was dying now, only embers remained, casting a warm glow on the figure holding her. “How long?” she whispered her voice hoarse from screaming.

“Long enough”

“I'm so tired so very tired”

“Then sleep class. I'll be here when you wake up.”

The darkness could come now she was ready for it 

“g’night batdad”

“goodnight Cassie”

come check me out on my tumblr! There’s more where this came from!

[delaixplaysgames]

Ship: Kazunari Miyoshi/Reader

Rating: sfw

wc: 2,628

A/N: It’s my first A3 fanfic! and first fanfic in general since I was in grade school. My brain literally wouldn’t leave me alone until I got this mess out of my head. i’ll apologize now for any mistakes i made (i probably made a million)

It all started in your first year of middle school’s culture festival. You were just walking around the Art Club’s exhibition when your eyes fell upon a certain painting. There were so many other paintings to see, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of this specific one. You adored how the colors blended into one another to create such a mystic impression. “Do you like this one?” You turned around and saw the art teacher also looking at the piece. You nodded. “It’s wonderful. I can’t believe that a student made this.” “Do you want to meet the artist?” The teacher didn’t even wait for your response and called for another student in the room. A black-haired boy turned around and walked towards you two with a straight face. “Miyoshi, looks like you have a fan.” He looked at you with a bit of surprise. “Oh, um… Glad you liked it.” He bowed a little bit. You nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt a bit. “I-It’s really pretty. It really stands out among the rest, M-Miyoshi-kun.” Your face felt warm as you felt the boy’s green eyes on you. “Thanks.” And that was your first conversation with Kazunari Miyoshi.

Ever since then, you unconsciously made it a habit to peek through the Art Room’s door window to get even a glimpse of Kazunari. The way his usual, serious facial expression softened when he painted made your heart flutter. You always tried to make it discreet with your visits so you didn’t look like a stalker, but you’d occasionally get caught by the art teacher while he was teaching or on the way into the classroom.

You would always take any occasion you could get to see Kazunari’s finished works, whether it’d be in school competitions, an exhibition, or another culture festival. You always felt so happy to see what kind of work he did and felt so excited to see what he’d come up with next. However, you always felt too embarrassed to see him face-to-face. So whenever the art teacher came up to you and asked if you wanted to talk with Kazunari, you would immediately refuse his offer and run off before Kazunari could see you. 

This continued up until your third year in middle school. This last middle school year was special because you made it into the same class as Kazunari. It made you extremely happy, knowing that you didn’t have to stealthily catch glimpses of him through the window all the time. 

However, there was one big problem.

You knew from the start that he was really serious about his studies and that he didn’t really talk with any of your classmates. You only ever heard him speak when the teacher called on him. And when class wasn’t in session he’d be quietly studying at his desk or working in the Art Room.

You’ve never tried making a conversation with him ever since your first year in middle school, so you didn’t have any ideas for a conversation. Sure, you could talk to him about his art, but wouldn’t it make you look weird if he realized that you’ve seen almost all of his works in competitions and galleries without even talking with him?

While you kept thinking of ways to strike up a conversation, time passed and your third year in middle school was coming to an end. You were pretty sure that you weren’t going to the same high school as Kazunari, so you started getting worried that you’d never get a proper conversation with him. 

On the day of graduation, you finally got enough courage to go up to him. You found him on his way to the Art Room after the graduation ceremony and nervously called his name.

“Do you need something?” he asked, obviously a little bit confused about why you’re talking to him.

“U-um.” You gulped. Feeling his gaze on you made your knees shake. “S-Since it’s the end of middle school, I was wondering if you have any social media so that we can… you know, keep in touch?”

He scratched his arm a bit awkwardly. “Oh, uh… sorry, I don’t really do social media.”

“O-oh, that’s fine.” You didn’t have a Plan B prepared. Even if you did, your brain isn't functioning properly to think about it since your hopes of keeping in touch with your long-time crush after middle school were crushed in a flash.

“Well, I’ll see you another time. I hope you have a good time in high school.” He bowed to you and quietly retreated into the art room.

And that’s how your second conversation with Kazunari Miyoshi ended.

You later found out that you and Kazunari were enrolled in different high schools and you were so upset at yourself for basically losing all connection with him. You had no clue whether or not he was still doing art or which school he was attending. You kept filling your mind with “I should’ve done this” and “I should’ve done that,” but you knew that you couldn’t fix it. However, despite not having him in your life for all of high school, you couldn’t forget about him. 

He left a big impression on you. You two only had two short conversations, but you knew he had more to say. It was clear in the way his expression changed whenever he was making art and the way he expressed himself in said work. The way he smiled when he finished a painting was something you couldn’t forget. So much so that you couldn’t be interested in anyone else in your high school. Kazunari was always on your mind whether he knew it or not. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Earlier today, your friend gave you their free ticket to the Veludo Arts University exhibition since they figured that you might have a better use for it. You haven’t been to an art exhibition since middle school, but you found walking through the exhibit nice and calming. You forgot how much you enjoyed seeing what the artists had to offer.

You turn your head to the next painting and stop walking. It’s a breathtaking nihonga painting that you just couldn’t look away from. You love the way the colors compliment each other and the technical detail that was put into it. It was so gorgeous… and so nostalgic to look at. You go to find the caption of the piece when you hear a voice.

“Do you like this one?” You turn around to see a sandy blonde college student greet you. “You’ve been looking at it for a while, so I thought so.”

You nod. “It’s so beautiful. I can’t really put words to it, but… it’s stunning.” You laugh sheepishly. “You can probably tell I’m not really an artsy person, huh?”

He laughs with you as he stands beside you to look at the painting. “That’s totally fine! You don’t need to be artsy to like art if you ask me.” 

As he looks at it, something catches your eye. You secretly look up at the man’s face, who was pointing out certain details on the work. You see the way his eyes light up when he talks about it and how you felt butterflies when his expression softened.

Just like how he looked whenever he finished another work of art. 

 “Miyoshi-kun…?” 

The man stops in the middle of his sentence and turns back to you in a bit of surprise. Did he even tell you his name yet? After taking a better look at your surprised face he realizes what’s happening. 

“(Last Name)-san?” He sees the way you react to your name with a nod, confirming that it was you without any doubt. He scratches the back of his neck and looks down at the ground. “Um, wow, this is a bit…”

 “… Surprising? Awkward?”

“I was gonna go with ‘unplanned’ but those work, too.”

You give a short laugh in agreement but you just couldn’t wipe the shocked look off your face. While he was busy looking at the ground, you were trying to get a better look at Kazunari. At some point in time, his pitch black hair was bleached and dyed into a sandy blonde and he traded in his glasses for a pair of contacts. The way he dressed today was really in style, way different from what you thought he’d dress back then.

He’s basically a completely different person. 

You turn back to the painting, realizing why the painting felt so nostalgic. Kazunari didn’t paint traditional Japanese art back then, but this painting is definitely reminiscent of his personal style. Sure, he looked completely different, but he was still the same Kazunari that you fell in love with.

That didn’t change how you two haven’t seen each other since middle school and you’re now in your second year of college. It’s hard to break the ice.

“It’s… It’s been a while, huh?” Kazunari says quietly. “How’s life been?”

“C-college life, you know? Turning in essays three minutes before the deadline, not sleeping till two in the morning… the usual.”

“Oh, yeah. I totally get that.”

The conversation pauses again as both of you try to find another topic. You look around the exhibition, looking anywhere but in Kazunari’s direction.

“So… Veludo Arts University, huh? Glad to know that you're still doing art.” 

“Y-yeah. I’m majoring in traditional Japanese painting.”

“That’s... That’s cool.” 

Another pause in the conversation. The awkwardness is just palpable to the people passing by you two. Not wanting to disturb the people trying to enjoy the art, you two decide to sit on a bench in the less populated lobby. Once again, you try to look around for some kind of conversation starter to just hit you in the face. 

“I haven’t seen you at an art exhibition since… middle school, huh?” 

“Yeah, it’s been… Wait, you’ve seen me at them?!” You immediately start regretting all of your creepy methods of watching Kazunari during middle school. He probably thought you were extremely creepy back then. You feel your face heat up with cringy embarrassment.

He chuckles a little. “Yeah. Well, not until the second year of middle school.” Kazunari leans back a little, looking up at the ceiling. “I honestly didn’t like middle school that much back then, so it really just feels like a blur. Like, do you remember how much of a nerd I was?” 

You nod. “But your grades were always the best, so I’m sure it wasn’t all bad.”

“Maybe not, but I didn’t really make any memories that made me think ‘Wow! Middle school was so much fun!’ The only good times I really remember having was when I was doing art or getting good grades.”

You’re not sure how to answer him and look at him with a sad look. “...Oh.”

But instead of looking upset, he turned back to you with a little smile. “But did you know? The art teacher back then always told me when you’d come to see all the exhibitions or art club events I was in. I remembered you from our first year culture festival, so I started keeping an eye out for you in our second and third year. I remember seeing you at any event I participated in, and always going to see my work first.” He smiles softly at the old memories and how he felt whenever he saw your reaction to your works.

He knew about you? But you were almost certain that he didn’t want anything to do with his classmates with how he pushed other things away to prioritize his studies. 

“I bet it came off as creepy, huh? To see some random person in your grade just coming to see your work, but not even talk to you.” You shiver at the memory of people whispering about you whenever you looked at Kazunari through the door window.  

He shakes his head, bringing one knee up to his chest. “To be fair, I wasn’t the most friendly student out there. I can’t blame you for not talking to me. The art teacher always told me to talk to you, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Like, I didn’t even try to give you another option to keep in touch when you asked.”

“Oh, gosh. You remember that, too?!” You bury your face in your hands to avoid any more embarrassment. “What I wouldn’t do to erase that from my brain…”

He laughs at how you’re red up to your ears. “I guess that’s an embarrassing middle school memory? I’m sure it didn’t seem that way back then, but I was actually really happy. I just didn’t know how to express it right.” 

“You’re damn right you didn’t.” You push his side with a big pout on your face, making him put his leg down to keep himself from tumbling. “My friends hyped me up for weeks to talk to you! Do you know how awkward it was to tell them that you said no? I got rejected by the class nerd, Kazunari Miyoshi-kun, you know!” 

“I-I’m sorry, I mean it!” He gave your shoulder a reassuring pat. “That’s why in high school, after making my high school debut, I was hoping to give you a better answer and try again. So, I was really hoping to see you at the next high school art exhibition. But… you weren’t there. Or at any of the other ones after that.” Kazunari clearly looks sad at the memory of not finding you after middle school.

You twiddle your thumbs in your lap. “Yeah. I was busy with studying and… I didn’t know if you were still doing art, so I couldn’t find a reason to go. But you could’ve just followed me on Instablam or something. Or do you still not have social media?”

He shakes his head. “No, I do now. It’s just that… I wanted to have a proper conversation with you before following you on social media or something.” His cheeks are noticeably pink and he turned his head away from you so you couldn’t see. “IDK. I guess… since you tried to have a conversation with me first, it felt right to talk to you in person first to return the favor. I-I’d rather meet you face-to-face before I see you on a screen.”

If you could get any redder in the face, you did the moment things started sinking in. He actually wanted to see you at high school art events and actively looked for you at them. Hell, he actually noticed you at the events in middle school! You had thought that he didn’t care about you, but he was secretly looking at you just like how you were secretly looking at him. 

“Well,” you start after a long pause. Your heart was beating like crazy. “We’re having a face-to-face conversation now, aren’t we?” You chuckle. “And it’s definitely longer than the last one we had.”

He laughs with you. “Definitely.” Kazunari leans back on the bench with relief, smiling at you. “And, look. I didn’t reject you, either.” 

You can’t help but smile at how you’re finally talking to your middle school crush and that the conversation isn’t crashing and burning. And you sense the idea that Kazunari feels the same, too.

“Guess that leaves one more thing to do.” He stood up from the bench.

“Oh, yeah!” You grab your phone from your back pocket and open Instablam. “What’s your user-”

“There’s a great cafe down the street where we can share usernames and stuff… and maybe chat irl some more if you want.” He stretches out his hand with a charming wink.

You smile with a blush on your cheeks and take his hand, excited to see what kind of things you’d talk about. And how things would go from here.

[writingdreamsnottragedies]

BTS Reaction // How you meet them

Namjoon

Art galleries were a real asset to you. Not only on rainy days you were drawn to the cool rooms full of works of art, even when the sun was in the clear sky you preferred to spend your time there. When you received the booklet of a gallery announcing an exhibition of your favorite artist, your next visit was already fixed.

As so often you avoid the first days of the exhibition to keep away from the big visitor crowds. The day you finally enter the rooms is sunny and hot, a day when most people prefer a cool drink and the outdoor pool. You like the way your footsteps echo in the empty corridors, the silence turns the place into something magical. Apart from an inconspicuous man with a cap, you really seem to be the only visitor and it is a great feeling, as you can completely lose yourself in the vision of the artist. You read every single description, let it work on you and add your own interpretations.

Only when you sit down on one of the benches after a while to rest for a moment you notice the man again. He enters the room after you and just like you he seems to barely notice you. You watch him for a while. Like you, he goes from painting to painting and just like you, he looks at each one intensively. He seems to think the same way as you and several times you find yourself connecting him in your mind with the paintings and creating completely new works of art. He stays longer at one painting and you can see how he frowns. The words come over your lips as if by themselves: “This is one of the best pictures of him”. The young man flinches and instinctively takes a step back before turning to you. Apparently, he didn’t notice your presence until now. “It’s even my favorite, but I can’t figure it out.” He looks up and you can see in his facial expression that this is a condition he does not experience too often.

You smile and pat the bench next to you: “I can tell you what I think about it, if you like.” The man seems to think for a moment, then he comes to you: “I’m Kim Namjoon”. He sits down next to you, looks at you expectantly: “So what did the artist want to express with this painting?”

Seokjin

At first you weren’t sure if it was a good idea to accompany your little sister to her primary school’s cooking competition, but she almost begged you, as your parents were prevented by work at short notice. Your dad had indicated in advance that he wanted to make homemade pasta and so you spent nights trying to make more or less successful attempts in your own kitchen before the big day arrived.

Now that you are standing at one of the kitchen counters, you realize that the preparation was worth it. Even your little sister has her fun, every time she turns the pasta machine and watches with fascination how the dough ball flattens more and more and finally turns into fine tagliatelle.  

You’re weighing the flour for another load of pasta, this time with little mushrooms in the dough, which are cleaned by your sister, when a voice interrupts your concentration.

“Excuse me?”

You pause in your activity and look up. A man stands in front of you and for a moment your breath stops because he is so incredibly handsome. He’s holding a salt shaker in his hand. When he notices that he has your attention, he turns it around. For a short moment you think all the salt would fall on your work surface, but nothing happens: "We made a mistake”. The man points to a little boy a few seats away who is staring curiously at you. On the work surface you can see a real collection of vegetables and other ingredients: “My nephew and I have bought so much that we forgot the salt”. A smile comes over your lips: “I’ll see if we have any left.” You go to the bags that still contain some of your own purchases: “My name is Seokjin, but Jin is enough” You repeat his name before returning to him: “Nice to meet you. My name is Y/N” With a triumphant grin, you hold out the packet of salt to him: “But don’t use it all at once.” He laughs and thanks you, and prepares to leave. But then he turns to you once again:  

“By the way, it doesn’t mean that we’ll lose just because I had to borrow some salt” Your grin widens as you turn back to the flour: “We’ll see”.

Yoongi

You had already taken many jobs during your holidays, but working in your uncle’s furniture store was something new. But you didn’t mind, the other employees were friendly and every week you were assigned to a different department. Not only did you learn a lot about the advantages of certain materials and types of furniture, you also came into contact with a wide variety of customers. In short, you enjoyed the work and were proud when your first recommendation was actually bought.

This week you were assigned to the team of the bed department and here you liked it best by far. Elderly people appreciated that you recommended the softest mattresses to them and children loved you for letting them jump on the beds while no one was looking. Sometimes, when time allowed and their parents were provided with your colleague, you played hide-and-seek with them in the children’s bed department and pretended not to see them through the elaborate knight’s castle and princess beds.

Your shift is coming to an end and you have to admit you’re exhausted. Especially today had been a turbulent day and all you wanted to do was go home. However, you promised your colleague that you would make another inspection tour of the department. As always, you pass the children’s section and look at one of the largest beds. A canopy bed with a ladder and slide. You remember the fun you had with a little girl a few hours before and decide that it can’t hurt to end the day with a little slide. But when you successfully climbed the ladder a little scream escapes you. There’s a man in the bed. He must have heard your reaction, because his eyes open and look at you drowsily:

“What are you doing in my room?”

Your heart is racing, but you force yourself to stay calm: “Sir, I’m sorry…” “Min Yoongi” he throws in and slowly straightens up as he rubs his eyes. The completely absurd thought that he looks good with the tousled hair hits you and you can’t shake it off: “Mr. Min…we are already closed. I must ask you to leave” He looks at you and slowly he seems to understand: “Oh…” he mumbles. Then he lets himself fall back on the mattress: “Seems like I have to buy this bed. I have not slept so well in a long time”.

Hoseok

That morning you thought the coffee stain on your favourite top was the worst thing that could happen. You knew better by now.

Actually, you were just trying to make him happy. A lunch, homemade to bring something to his work, so he could skip the canteen. You’d gone to all that effort, standing in the kitchen all morning.

However, your boyfriend had decided to get his meal somewhere else. That and more.

Your steps feel heavy as you walk across the terrain. A few people, on their way to their lunch break, stare at you and you try to suppress your tears as best you can, but you might not be able to.  At some point you give up, let yourself sink to the ground a little off the beaten track. Now you’re letting your tears run free. A thousand thoughts are spinning around in your head. Why had he done that? Weren’t you good enough? Not pretty enough? “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Only your tears”.

Your vision is blurred and therefore it takes a while before you can recognize the person in front of you. He kneels before you.  You can see neither pity nor amusement in his face, instead a gentle smile adorns his lips. He holds a handkerchief out to you. First you hesitate, then you take it. You don’t care that he can see you wiping your nose after you sniffle a few times. Then you wipe the back of your hand over your eyes: “Thank you” “Do you want to talk about it? I am known for giving hope to others and bringing a little sunshine into their lives” The way he says it, the way he smiles at you makes you smile too. Which in turn makes his smile even wider: “See, it already works! You look much prettier with a smile than with tears.” He turns away, only to turn back to you a few moments later to again hold something out to you. This time it’ s a daisy:   "I’m Hoseok, but most people call me J-Hope, because i’m their hope. Let me be your hope too".

Jimin

Orientation had never been your strength, but it had never been as bad as now. Actually, you were gonna meet your best friend in the city. You had just moved to Seoul and didn’t know your way around yet. That’s how, without knowing it, you got off one station too early. With the thought of being in the right place, you set off, always looking for the mall where you wanted to meet. You hadn’t noticed how you were moving away from the main roads and into quieter areas where there were hardly any people.

By the time you realize your mistake, it’s already too late. Nervously you look around you, but you can no longer make out where exactly you have come from. You pull out your cell phone to call your friend, but then realize your next mistake, because the battery is in a dangerous red zone. Panic is rising in you. You have no idea where you are and people just walk past you from time to time. None of them looks like they are going to help you when you ask for directions and you are not sure if your fear would even allow it. The longer you are in this state, the more your surroundings seem to turn, the more dull the sounds in your ears become. You’re about to just sit on the street when you hear a voice. It is clear, distinct and beautiful. Something about it seems to calm you down. Even if you run the risk of getting even more lost you follow instinctively.

You land in an alleyway that ends at a stairway. A man sits on it. Over his full lips come the most beautiful sounds you have ever heard. When he notices you, he stops immediately. The sudden halt also brings you back to reality and you become aware again of the situation you are in. Your face seems to speak for itself, because the look of the man becomes concerned. Carefully he comes towards you, “Are you all right?” “I’m… I’m lost.” Your voice trembles and yet the words bubble out of your mouth: “I panicked and then I heard you singing and followed your voice and…” You break off because you feel so stupid, but the man just laughs: “Then you can be glad that I am not a siren”. He walks past you, then he turns and reaches out his hand to you: “I’ m Jimin. Tell me where you need to go, and I can take you there.”

Taehyung

The sun is just rising as you leave your apartment. It’s still fresh and you’re thinking about going back inside to get a jacket. But your dog has other plans and a pull on the leash makes it clear to you that a return would only be possible after an extensive walk.

As so often, your route takes you through the city park, at this time of the day still empty and not overcrowded as in the later hours. There is dew on the grass, the air is fresh and you pause for a moment to take a deep breath. Then you let your dog off the leash and let her run free. As good as she is she always stays close to you and finally you sit down on a bench to welcome the first rays of sunshine on your face. Soon your bitch will lie down next to your feet and you will enjoy the peace and quiet that you can only have in the early morning. Suddenly you see something. It’s small and it’s coming towards you. You can’t recognize it immediately, but your dog jumps up excitedly, which also makes you attentive. Before you even know it, a little dog is joining you. The two sniff each other shortly before they start playing together. You let it happen and try to look for the owner, but there is no need to do so, because instead you can hear him:

“Yeontan? Yeontan!”

He comes out of the undergrowth at the edge of the path. When he sees the little dog, he runs towards him and takes him in his arms: “Yeontan! You’re okay!” His clothes are dirty and in his dark hair a few leaves are hanging. You can’t help but laugh. He looks up and only now seems to notice you and your dog: “Thank you so much for finding him!” “I didn’t.” You point to your dog, “She did. The two seem to get along well”. As if to underline your words, the little dog starts fidgeting in the man’s arms so that he has to put him down. Again both dogs start to romp together. Your gaze wanders from them back to the man and your finger points to his head: “You should do something about that” “Huh?” he strokes through his hair and a lot of leaves fall to the ground, something that only makes you laugh harder. He joins in as he brushes his hair a few times and then pats the earth off his clothes. Then he turns back to you, “Thank you again… um…” “Y/N. I’m Y/N” “Nice to meet you. I’m Taeyhung.”

Jungkook

Being out with your friends made you bloom. Were you usually rather shy and reserved, with them you were open and ready for any fun. You had ice cream together, took some pictures of each other making faces. At some point you started to give one another some fun tasks. You watched as one of your friends gave a real dance performance and another one had an extremely interesting conversation with some pigeons.

When it is your turn, your stomach already hurts, you had to laugh so much. Your friends whisper to each other and you wonder what kind of task you will get. Finally, one of them turns to you. She points her finger at something: "Pretend you know him and ask him for an autograph!” The smile disappears from your lips: “I can’t do that” “Come on Y/N!” another one of your friends laughs: “I talked to pigeons! You can do it!” You keep trying to talk it out, but eventually you give in. Sighing, you get ready before you approach the man. He stands with his back to your group and seems to be completely absorbed in his mobile phone. You hesitate for a moment, because you don’t want to bother him, but then you pull yourself together: “Excuse me?”

He turns to you and there’s a brief flash of confusion on his face before he looks at you: “Yes?” You, on the other hand, are distracted because you didn’t expect a cute guy like that to be standing in front of you: “I’m… I’m…” All the self-confidence you’ve built up for this action seems to have faded away: “I mean, I’d like to…” “I understand.” He smiles at you encouragingly and pulls a pencil out of his jacket: “I am on a private tour, so please don’t take any photos”. Now you don’t understand anything anymore: “No, I…I’m only supposed to ask for an autograph because my friends put me up to it…like a dare.” You look back at your friends because the whole thing gets more and more uncomfortable with every stiffening second. They stand a few feet away and lift their thumbs so the guy can’t see, “What’s your name?” “Y/N” You hear him laugh, you look at him again. He stretches out two pieces of folded paper to you: “You can show one to your friends. The other one…” For a moment you think you can see blush in his face: “Please keep the other one to yourself”. He gives you another smile before he suggests a slight wave, turns around and leaves.

You also go back to your friends and show them the paper with the autograph. In the evening you take out the second piece of paper the man gave you. There’ s a little note on it: “My name is Jungkook. If you like, I would like to have a coffee with you sometime”. Underneath you find a phone number.

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Writer's Month 2020

Day 31: There was only one bed

I made it! This is the last story for the month. I'm glad I tried the challenge.

This one is long. It's something I've been playing around with for a while. There's a teeny bit of romantic action between the two dudes. ❤️❤️❤️

I should add that the Iggy anecdotes are things that I've read in bio books, or things he's said in interviews.

Forgot to say earlier: thanks @ledbythreads for the sanity check on this. 😁❤️

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They faced each other on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. They were both naked and hot after what had just transpired with Alice, and as neither of them was especially modest, neither of them thought much about it.

"Did you see how Alice made her way to the bathroom? Could barely walk!" Iggy laughed his unnerving cackle. "I've never seen a groupie look so ecstatic when we walked back here. Like she'd just won the fucking lottery."

"Not so loud, Ig! This isn't the bloody locker room." Robert's admonition came in a harsh whisper. "But I am proud of my work. Always am." Robert swept his damp curls out of his face and a beamed with a big Cheshire grin.

"She should be proud of her work, too… Would've sucked my soul out, if I had one to spare." Iggy rolled his eyes backward and opened his mouth wide in an exaggerated dramatization of his climax moments before. "Thanks for inviting me back here with her. Real nice of you to share."

Robert laughed at Iggy's joking, rubber face, but the hilarity faded when he noticed how genuine Iggy's gratitude was, and how intently he was paying attention to Robert all of a sudden. There was still amusement in Iggy's eyes, but Robert swore he saw flirtation in the pouty set of Iggy's lips. He realized he found it hard to take his eyes off the devilish little dynamo at the other side of the bed. That bastard always knew how to court attention, Robert thought, having read about Stooges shows and hearing wild word-of-mouth stories from groupies he and Iggy had in common. Guerrilla tactics, on and off the stage. A pint-sized, silver-haired man-child with a heart full of napalm.

Alice emerged from the bathroom after washing up and threw on her dress. She crawled between Robert and Iggy to kiss them both before leaving to fetch her best friend Fran from the party in Bonzo's room.

Robert lay on his back with his hands behind his head. If Fran was anything like Alice, a breather was in order before round two.

Robert sighed and glanced at Iggy, who was reclining on his side. "How does it feel to be in the big leagues? Raw Power is one hell of a record, mate." After all of Robert's chattering that night about the success of Houses of the Holy, he instantly regretted how arrogant his comment must've sounded to Iggy, who had been making music for roughly as long as Led Zeppelin had been. "Sorry," Robert interjected. "What I, uh, mean to say, Ig--"

"No, I get it, Percy." Iggy saw how much the nickname irked Robert when Bonzo spoke it and decided to twist the knife in Robert a bit.

Iggy had no poker face to speak of. Robert could see the American's thoughts slowly formulating through the movement of his big, blue cartoon eyes. Barely controlled rage pivoting to wily thoughtfulness with whiplash speed. Iggy seemed very lucid tonight, which surprised Robert, who had heard horror stories about Iggy's junkie tendencies through the grapevine. He was getting a sense that an alert Iggy was the truly dangerous Iggy.

Robert didn't know whether he would be scorched by what Iggy was going to say, or if he would be impressed by Iggy stopping himself from leveling a vicious retort. Iggy was not unlike Maureen, Robert thought--petite and fiery. And cute. Iggy's energy was vaguely familiar. The thought surprised Robert but also made him smile.

"We had to get dropped before we could perform the fucking album more than once, but yeah, we are getting bigger audiences now, thanks to Bowie's aura around the project. But we've always had a tight, rabid group of fans who really get it. The money isn't much, since the label tossed us out on our asses, but there are a few more people in the audience to catch me."

"You're a lunatic, with that stage diving." Robert caught himself breathing a sigh of relief. Iggy was reflective. Not in the mood to spar verbally.

"What? Too afraid to bust up your pretty face, Perce?"

Robert inhaled with irritation. His face flushed. He couldn't pinpoint why Iggy was getting under his skin. He'd been treated worse by the press. Much worse.

"I just don't have it in me," Robert finally said. "Plus, I'm bigger than you, and I think I could hurt someone. Or, I might come back to the stage naked, once all the birds get their hands on me."

"You'd love it. Admit it, man."

"Maybe I would, Iggy… But I'll leave you to it."

In the silent pause, Iggy swept his gaze over Robert's face again. Iggy admired the masculine set of Robert's jawline, at odds with his feline eyes and the curlicued cloud of his hair. Robert was more attractive than The Stooges' cutest roadies, and Iggy adored his roadies. Robert was a finely sculpted man who seduced everyone with very subtle androgyny. Robert's pretty hippie god look was a far cry from Iggy's battle-scarred demon persona of eyeliner and dark lips. Nevertheless, Iggy reveled in all the boys and girls wanting him. He loved blurring the lines of the expected. It was his ace, shoving people off kilter with his performance. If he straddled a man's lap and sang in his face, or kissed an unexpecting girl in the audience, all eyes would be on him. Hate or love his performance, they would be telling all their friends about it. It never failed.

By the way Robert looked at him, Iggy knew that even Robert found him to be an intriguing novelty. He smirked at the larger man, who smiled at Iggy quizzically.

Iggy wondered if Robert knew what he was doing with his look. But Robert was a god to his fans and had nothing to explain or prove to anyone.

Iggy couldn't lie to himself; he wasn't on that level. He was the sideshow for a loud, primitive band that always performed at the brink of chaos. He would be the scrappy little underdog until the day he died. Nothing came easy. He had to do the dirty work to get what he wanted.

Iggy watched Robert's chest rise and fall with his breath and imagined that it felt just as solid as Iggy's own musculature. Robert was a total package, just like Iggy had heard. Beautiful inside as much as outside. Iggy remembered the dreamy look in Sable's eyes when he saw her on the street and mentioned he'd be coming to the Riot House, as they called it. She'd asked Iggy to say hi to Robert for her. She was on to the next thing, only had eyes for Johnny Thunders these days.

Iggy started to wonder if Robert was someone he wanted, if Robert himself might be interested in exploring that kind of connection. Iggy was not turned off by the idea, no matter how much he protested about any hint of interest in men to anyone who'd listen. But he knew he'd have to be the one to make it happen with Robert. And that was always something he wrestled with.

David and Lou had no qualms about men, but Iggy hadn't truly shaken free from Midwestern ethics. It was like the time Iggy lived with Leee. It was two boys who grew up far from the coasts of America who couldn't act on their feelings, even when Iggy's robe was open and his large cock was on display. Leee was into boys, but as much as Iggy tried to entice him, nothing ever came of it. Iggy couldn't bring himself to go for Leee. Neither man ever spoke about it. Iggy had been paralyzed by his thoughts. Lee? Maybe he just wasn't sure if Iggy was sure. Iggy had broken free from society in many ways, but not this one. He sighed in frustration.

Robert noticed that Iggy's mood had shifted again, that he was lost in his thoughts, and not happy thoughts, it seemed. For all of Iggy's maniacal bravado, Robert realized that his fellow front man wasn't a savage to the core. It put Iggy in a new light in Robert's eyes.

Not that it made Robert think Iggy was delicate or weak. The ripples and etchings of wiry muscles on Iggy's body proved how strong he was, as did how he had clawed his way to a new record deal after his band had been left for dead a few years before.

Robert and Iggy weren't friends, having just met that night, but they sat by the balcony in the Hyatt suite and had a nice, long conversation over drinks, joints, and stories of the stage.

Iggy, Robert was pleased to find out, had more layers than the press ever attributed to him. Iggy was as well read as Robert and had even broader music taste than his British counterpart. It was refreshing for Robert to have a lively artistic conversation with someone who wasn't Jimmy.

Something was shifting between Robert and Iggy. Robert kind of hoped that Alice and Fran would be delayed for a while, even though he was unsure of how he wanted to fill that time with Iggy.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ig."

"Oh…" Iggy swallowed and blinked his eyes. He'd been caught. What the hell, he thought.

"Uh, Robert …"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever… Done anything with a guy?"

"Haven't had the pleasure, Iggy. You?"

"Closest I've come, I told this creep he could lick my stomach when he asked to suck my dick. And some boys in San Francisco? They, uh, have a fan club for me. Met with them a few times. Touchy-feely motherfuckers. I don't go to sleep around them."

Iggy seemed somewhat ashamed. Robert could understand. Jonesy was convinced that Robert was too provincial, too old fashioned to accept or even acknowledge the male attention he garnered. Maybe the Midlands and Midwest weren't all that different, Robert mused. Iggy may have had more exposure to men who wanted him, but he seemed just as uncomfortable with that kind of attention.

But Robert guessed Iggy, too, was willing to bend the rules a little tonight. Good company and good drugs would do that to anyone.

Both men were lost in their thoughts. The silence was painful. It had become a game of chicken.

"Aw, fuck this." Iggy broke first. He scooted closer to Robert, rested a hand on the larger man's shoulder, and pressed his lips to Robert's. For a few tense seconds it was like both notoriously sexy men forgot how to kiss. Iggy additionally feared getting tossed from the bed by Robert. But then, everything clicked. It was like the first number of an electrifying concert. Both men knew the rush that came from singing the first few bars of a song, the sweet release of all the nervous energy that built while the band played the intro, and the passion that must be doled out with the first notes to hook the audience's attention for the night. Their kiss was exactly the same.

Robert nestled a hand on Iggy's back. Iggy's tongue was exquisitely adventurous. But not aggressive. It was the exact opposite of Iggy's stage persona: tender and unhurried. It was as good as any groupie Robert had ever encountered. Robert got the feeling that Iggy had a surprising number of facets that most would never see. Robert felt honored to get a true glimpse of the man.

Iggy glided his hand into Robert's curls. The American was enjoying himself. He realized it was no big deal after all. He briefly thought of telling David afterward, to see the surprise and envy on his face. Robert. Fucking. Plant! But Iggy would never tell a soul, out of respect for Robert and this moment. And he knew Robert wouldn't breathe a word of it, either.

Robert caressed Iggy's back, causing the smaller man to purr contentedly. The taste of Robert's tongue was the taste of freedom that he'd always craved.

The door opened, and Alice and Fran barged in. Iggy and Robert continued kissing. They'd surprised themselves by not jerking away from each other.

"Oh, my God, that's so hot!" The men heard a new voice. Fran. "They couldn't even wait for us!"

The two women took the scene as their cue and climbed on the bed, choosing a man to play with, separating the embrace.

Robert winked at Iggy, and Iggy nodded his head in response. It was fun while it lasted.

[sarcastic-space-gal]

The Dancer with Golden Earrings (Part 2)

Summary: The bard and the reader travel together, hoping to find a job once in Brugge. However, more they get to know each other more they’re afraid to part from one another;

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader;

Word Count: 2k;

Warning: Slow burn? (or my attempt at it);

A/N: Here is the second part of “ The Dancer with Golden Earrings”, if you haven’t read it, here is Part 1. As always, feedback is appreciated. I hope you’ll like it. Love you all xoxo. 

The cool breeze of the morning caressed the leaves making them rustle and creating a peaceful melody. The sun was still faint behind the hills as the birds chirped before vanishing in the early lights of dawn. The only other sounds were a horse neighing and-

“No.” said a voice, sternly.

“Geralt come on!” Jaskier lowered his tone after seeing few people around him snap their heads toward him “She will travel alone!”

“The answer is still no”

The bard sighed “You weren’t so disappointed when you asked me to come with you”

“I did not ask you, you followed me”

“That’s because I knew you needed some company on your way to kill monsters” said Jaskier cheerfully pointing his finger to Geralt.

The witcher grumbled, quickly turned his head and came back to fix his bags on the saddle while the bard smile faded as he placed his fists on his hips. But Jaskier knew how to coax his friend, touching his inner protective side.

“So you are letting a young, unarmed woman wander these dark and dangerous forests, even knowing she’ll probably be at the mercy of some foglers, leshies or even giant centipedes?”

Geralt slowly made eye contact with him, a serious expression on his face. Bingo, thought Jaskier.

The witcher’s eyes glanced behind the bard’s shoulders were you stood saying farewell to the chamberlain, while giving him a respectful bow and a small smile.

Besides Jaskier constant ranting if he refused to let you come with them, he remembered how kindly and friendly you had greeted him, even after knowing he was a witcher. Moreover, Jaskier was right about all the forest’s creatures lurking around Cintra.

Geralt glanced back into Jaskier’s eyes and grumbled again.

“Fine.”

“I knew it! Lady Y/n, come here there’s a place for you on Roach”

“Nobody touches Roach, Jaskier!”

The first few hours of walking were occupied by the bard’s tales and by your interested comments in regard to those stories.

“And from that day, they all call him White Wolf, thanks to me” said Jaskier “I composed at least three ballads out of that”

“I’m sure they have been all very successful” you smiled watching your steps.

“Well, I can’t deny that” he smirked.

Laughing you looked up to the witcher, who was riding his horse ahead of you two.

“Oh, I still haven’t had the chance to thank you for letting me come with you” you mentioned while stepping over a fallen tree.

Geralt slightly turned his head to the side revealing his profile but not fully making eye contact with you.

“It was Jaskier’s idea” he simply said.

You turned to him and even if you weren’t sure, you could have sworn you saw a glimpse of redness on the bard’s cheeks.

“I thought this wasn’t the right place for wandering alone” he said with a nervous smile “Mostly for a lady”

You couldn’t help but feel flattered by his interest or… concern? No, it was probably an act of chivalry, you thought.

“This is wouldn’t be the first time that I travel alone, but I quite enjoy some company” you responded, winking at him.

Few days went by, you arrived in some small cities east of Cintra but luck was not by your side: no jobs, neither for you nor them, so you decided to head far east, hoping to find a better opportunity. To be honest, you were not mad at it. Geralt and Jaskier were an odd pair of travel companions as they sometimes made yourself ask how could they even be friends, due to their evident differences. Geralt was quiet most of the time, easily irked by the bard’s enthusiasm and his keen singing but they seemed to get along, nonetheless. Little did you know, they felt the same for you: Jaskier was always by your side, playing his lute or talking about new ideas he had for his ballads, happy to have found someone who gladly listened to him, meanwhile Geralt was delighted to have found some peace from the bard and not having to listen to him constantly.

All day went by and without even realizing it, the sun was already setting.

“We will stop here for tonight” Geralt dismounted, drawing his sword “I’ll find something to eat”

Placing your bag on the ground you watched as the witcher ventured into the forest. Finally, after a long day of walking, you sat down with a loud thud next to Jaskier.

“In just two days we will arrive in Brugge hopefully” you mentioned looking at the fire.

Jaskier seemed to think for an instant, then his face lit up.

“There’s the Spring Festival in Brugge!”

Both of you knew the annual festival always attracted many people and there was plenty of work for artists like you two.

“Oh, that’s true! I almost forgot it’s already spring time.” you squealed in excitement.

“If they want to listen to some good music and leave behind those old, awful ballads written by Valdo Marx, they cannot do it without me”

“A rival?”

“You can call him that. I prefer, pretentious pompous stuck-up minstrel”

“Uhh, I sense some bad blood” you chuckled “I have listened to those ballads and trust me there’s no competition” you assured placing your hand on the bard shoulder.

Jaskier’s lips curved in a genuine smile “Lady Y/n, you flatter me”

“Please, call me Y/n. Just Y/n”

“As you wish. We are already dropping the formalities”

You chuckled at his flirty comeback. After few days spent with him, you sort of got used to his antics and compliments, but you never got used to how those compliments made you feel.

“Let’s hope we have some luck this time”

“I’m confident we will find someone who’s looking for our service and not just any service. The best dancer around all the four kingdoms is coming their way. I’m sure you will find something” as soon as he finished the sentence a profound sense of sadness washed over him, even if he couldn’t quite understand why. Or maybe he could.

She will leave…, he thought. 

Why do I feel so upset about this? You knew it was just for some time, she has her life, someone to return to…

“What about you earrings?” he suddenly asked, trying to distract himself from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Well, you are known as “the dancer with golden earrings”, even if I prefer Y/n”

Giggling you glanced back at the fire “It’s a long story.”

“I love long stories.” he said, ready to listen to whatever you were going to say.

“But it’s also kinda sad…”

Jaskier instantly froze, worried to have touched a sore point “I mean if you want to tell it, if you don’t want to it’s ok-”

“Oh no no, it’s okay, it’s okay, it was a long time ago.” you lowered your glance “It all started when I was just a little girl. My parents were street artists, they traveled around the Continent trying to survive with just those little payments they received. My mother... she was so full of life, she loved to dance, she taught me all about it and my dad was a musician, together they performed in all four kingdoms. They were the happiest years of my life, but it didn’t last for too long… One day my parents were getting ready to go out on the street, just as every other day, when suddenly we heard screams from outside. I remember my mother screaming and shoving something in my pocket, I remember her tears, my father yelling to run away, my home burning down. What happened next is a just a confused and blurred memory, the only thing I remember is waking up in an unknown place, sobbing, asking where my parents were. One of my parents’ friend took my away and saved me, I could see the horror and the sorrow in her eyes while she told me I was now alone in the world. That day I lost everything, my parents, my home… the only thing I have are these earrings, that my mom gave me before dying. So, yeah, I travel alone more than you think”

Jaskier stood quiet for a bit, he just kept his eyes on you, then he simply murmured “I… I’m so sorry, Y/n”

You managed a small smile “I believe destiny has been cruel but I also think it has more plans for me. I know it”

When you turned your head toward him, Jaskier was glaring at you, silently.

“Do you believe in destiny Jaskier?”

Without breaking eye contact with you, he placed his hand on your knee tenderly.

“I do” his voice steady and clear.

You smiled.

The sun wasn’t up yet when you cracked your eyes open the next day. That would have been the last day of walk before arriving in Brugge even if you weren’t so happy about it. You knew that some coins could come in handy, but you couldn’t help but think you had to part from them. From him.

The day went by quickly as you tried to enjoy all the small things, even the bickering between Geralt and Jaskier, who never failed to make you laugh. When the sun eventually set, Geralt left as any other night to hunt, meanwhile you and Jaskier were left to light up the fire and set up the bedrolls for the night. Enjoying the fire’s warmth you placed your bag down and sat next to Jaskier who was now strumming his lute.

The night was already dark, the stars shined through the trees and Geralt was nowhere to be seen, but you knew hunting wasn’t a simple task, so you patiently waited for his return.

His fingers started moving on the strings, filling the air with a slow and gentle melody.

Jaskier started singing, just a little higher than a whisper, one of his most famous ballads. You loved  listening to his voice since the first time you heard it, back in Cintra. The bard was playing cheerfully around the room, making the audience sing and clap their hands and occasionally winking at the noble women, who were themselves really captured by the bard’s enthusiasm. And how could you not? you thought.

The rhythm of the music accelerated as your feet involuntarily began stomping on the ground and without thinking about it twice you got up and let the music take over you. Jaskier curiously followed you with his eyes, unsure about what you were doing and then smiled when you started dancing near the fire. Your arms, your hands, your fingers followed his voice elegantly in an almost hypnotic movement. He couldn’t help but thinking about how beautifully you danced, how naturally your legs rhythmically drew circles on the fallen leaves, how your golden hoops shined at the fire’s light. How breath-taking you were.

He gave a final, mighty strum of the lute as you playfully bowed, almost making contact with the ground with your head.

“Jaskier that was amazing!” you exclaimed getting up again.

“Your dance was superb!” Jaskier stood up as well, and without noticing it at first, you found yourselves mere inches away, making eye contact with each other.

Your breaths got caught in your throats as a strand of hair fell in front of your eyes. Few seconds passed in complete silence, just the crackling of the fire and a lonely owl screeching and hooting.

Jaskier’s eyes darted up to look at your head “You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

Too focused on his deep blue eyes to give a proper answer you just mumbled out something.

“Oh, umm, yes”

Jaskier slowly lifted his hand and grabbed the leaf that got stuck between your beautiful hair, the feeling of his palm so close to your cheek sent shivers down your spine.

The bard by now was surprised you still hadn’t heard his heart pounding so fast in his chest, he thought it would burst out of his ribcage. Your hair was soft

A sudden movement near the fire made the two of you break eye contact.

“Dinner’s here” Geralt dropped the carcass near the fire while his gold, feline eyes observed you, attentively.

With a quick step back you both parted from each other, hoping that the red light coming from the fire would conceal the warm sensation you felt all over your face.

“G-Geralt, you managed to come back after all” Jaskier mentioned trying to shift the attention to the motionless animal in front of the witcher.

“You can do it the next time” he grumbled “If you are not too...busy”

“Don’t be so prickly! I’m actually starving, let’s cook” said Jaskier approaching him.

Fortunately, their bickering draw the attention away from what was happening, even though you knew the witcher could see better than any other night creature and could hear anything even from far away.

The rest of the night you occasionally shared glances with the bard, your head was filled with thoughts, doubts, sensations, it was a mess, a complete mess. Why do I feel like this, nothing happened, stop being so silly, you thought. Looking at the two men you decided to focus on their conversation, trying to distract yourself.

“Geralt, are you sure Calanthe will give you his grandson? I mean you saw how she reacted with that sort of porcupine” asked the bard.

“I know she will, and even if she won’t, I will meet his grandson sooner or later”

“How can you be so sure?”

The witcher tossed something into the fire absentmindedly “Because it’s destiny”

Both you and Jaskier instantly looked at each other.

“And people who are destined to be together will always find each other.” 

Jaskier glanced at you before smiling. I hope you are right Geralt. he thought.

Part 3

TAG LIST: @alyxkbrl​

[themysteriousauthor18]

Childhood friends PT. 2

This is no longer a oneshot---

Artist of picture above: 

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"So ya not allowed to go to da school?" 

"Nah. Pa says it doesn't help and gets in the way of my trainin'." The blonde grumbled. He stared up at the blue sky, the clouds moving by ever so slowly and the summer heat being a little too much for blonde. He wiped some sweat from his forehead before placing his hands back on his stomach.

It seemed after four years the 13-year-old still wasn't able to handle the harsh heat that New Orleans brought.

Beside him, the brunette clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Dats just dum. Dey goin' makes you dumb." The blonde laughed. 

"That's what I said!" He yelled into the open clearing. He smiled sadly at the sky, his green eyes becoming glossy. "Right before pa hit me a bunch." The brunette looked at him concerned his lips dropping into a frown. 

"Anthony..dat don't sound gud." The pre-teen shook his head, moving his hands off his stomach and sitting up. He groaned a little in doing so. 

"It's fine. If it means ma' ain't gotta take them, then I'm happy to instead." The brunette sat up now too turning to look at the pale blonde. Anthony brought his knees to his chest and looked over to the boy beside him. 

It was as if the world blessed his looks, with how the sun made his light brown skin shimmer in the summer heat. The sharp beige vest he had 'been forced into' again according to him, only made him look more handsome. Even the strands of brown hair that stuck out in an odd direction couldn't compare to his looks.

He wasn't sure if it was the hormones setting in with turning 13 but lately, he had found himself looking at Edward (Alastor) more often than not. Since he'd turn 12 he had begun finding the boy more handsome than someone his age and gender should. 

He still cringed at his comment he made the day they met. 'Well, I like you.' His nine-year-old self had said. Of course, he hadn't meant it in that context but he didn't really know better. 

"Anthony ya starin'." The brunette reminded like he had done so many other times. He never got mad at him for it, just calmly reminded him of the action. 

His pale cheeks flushed a light pink in what he blamed on embarrassment. "Sorry." He muttered looking away. 

"It's fain." He heard him say in his thick accent. It was strange, sometimes he caught the brunette trying to suppress it but never knew why. In recent years it seemed more common. Sometimes his accent would come at full volume other times it would sound restrained. 

He never explained why, and whenever he pointed it out he would get the usual response. "What are ya tawking about?" And that would be the end of it.

Suddenly he heard the grass rustle beside him and as he looked he saw Edward getting to his feet. Anthony did as well when the older male began to walk away. "Wait Edward were ya goin!" The brunette paused, the sky had seemed to get darker all of a sudden. As if the sun had gone and hid away.

Now instead a shadow cast over the large clearing and a cold wind blew past them. It rarely ever got cold here. 

He paused, looking at the pale boy. "I have to go now, Anthony. I'm sorry." He sounded sad but his expression didn't dwindle from its neutral state. The wind seemed to pick up with the end of his sentence. 

Anthony bolted towards him once he'd turned around and lunged for his arm grabbing it tightly. "Ed please don't go! Please! I-I don't want you to not yet!" Not ever.

A shadow cast over the brunette's eyes now and to Anthony's horror, the world around them began to blur with the darkness slowly consuming it and the wind is almost too much to bear.  

He looked over his shoulder at the pleading pre-teen and frowned. His warm brown eyes held a darker look to them similar to a dead person's eyes when the life had left them. His lips parted and as he spoke the wind froze in its tracks, all sound stopped and all he could hear was his voice.

"I'm already gone, Anthony. Wake up."

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Angel gasped for air as he suddenly found himself awake..were, where was he? Were was Edward. 

The hard pulsing of his heart in his chest brought him to realize he was truly awake now. That he had just had a nightmare..or rather, a memory altered into a nightmare. 

He stared up into the darkness, the loud thumping of his heart in his ears slowly fading out. And the soft ticking of his clock fading in.  

He sighed sitting up in his head as he brought a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He felt cold and that was likely due to the chill that ran through his apartment during the colder months. October was no exception. 

His tank top and boxers were also drenched in the cold sweat he himself was covered in. His eyes lazily looked around the darkness of his small room. 

His heavy eyes looked over to his side table and at the illuminated green lights of his clock. He grabbed it, squinting at the numbers the sleep still in his eyes. 

6am

He groaned, putting the clock back down with a light slam. A sigh followed as he threw the covers back and swung his legs over onto the wooden floors. A chill ran through him, the floors were ice cold per usual. 

There was no way he would be getting back to sleep tonight, despite how tired he felt. 

That early morning started as all his usual days did. With some kind of joint. 

Once he'd moved away and to New York, turning to drugs was all too easy. With his mother passing soon after their move there and the lack of one of his main friends there was nobody to stop him. Cherri hadn't come into the picture until a few months later and she wasn't exactly a sadist against drugs. 

Surprisingly working under his father in the mafia didn't pay all that well, well for him at least. That led him to live in this rather run-down apartment. He was lucky enough to have Cherri as a roommate, without her he probably wouldn't even be here.

As he sat down on the edge of his bed, lighting the joint it glowed a soft orange in the darkness. 

Sometimes he wondered if the low amount of cash he was paid was because his father was purposely trying to keep him from traveling to New Orleans, or just because he hated him

"Probably both." Angel mused quietly to himself.

Shortly after his mom died he had met Cherri and one day she'd given him the nickname of 'Angel'. He liked it, so he started going by that. He didn't want to be Anthony anymore...that person was gone. That person was left back in New Orleans with the charming childhood friend of his and his sweet mother. 

No, Angel didn't care about life anymore and was just spending each day trying to numb the pain. 

Molly and Arackniss supported him with the new name. Molly not questioning it while Arackniss seemingly not caring. His father didn't care at all and continued to call him by his birth name whether he liked it or not.

No surprise there. 

He took a long hit of the joint allowing the drug to fill his lungs, enjoying the tingling sensation that it brought as it ran through his veins. He held it in for a moment before slowly allowing the smoke to escape his mouth and into the darkened room. 

Cherri to his surprise was also in the mafia. But her father was a lot nicer and unlike his own, the guy let her do what she pleased. He even let her help out sometimes although not very often. So each day they spent doing whatever they pleased.

Or to put it more realistically, did whatever they pleased until Angel got the call from his father or Arackniss to get his ass to work. 

He wasn't always needed, he was just another one of the men in his father's organization. And he liked it that way. 

He took another hit, laying back against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes, holding the smoke for a moment before letting it out again. 

Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what Edward was up to these days. If the brunette remembered him, cared to remember him? If he missed him as the blonde did him. 

But oftentimes his mind would be cruel and serve the more darker thoughts. 

With how handsome he was, he was probably already with someone. A girl most likely considering he never showed signs of being anything besides that. 

She was probably beautiful. And he was probably happy and forgot that he'd even existed. 

Probably

His mind reminded. 

Before his mind could go any further on this thought train the sound of a door opening from outside his room drew his eyes open. Truthfully he was thankful for the sudden distraction. 

He got up from his bed, cringing as it squeaked loudly from the shitty mattress. If Cherri didn't know he was awake before, she certainly did now. 

Joint resting between his lips he opened his bedroom door.

As stated earlier, the apartment was a bit run down and in no means luxurious. Due to this, they had no living room. Instead, the kitchen lay right outside Angel's small room, the door across from that was Cherri's room with the door next to that being their shared bathroom.

She had a TV in her room and they'd often have movie nights or just watch TV when they didn't want to go out. 

As he guessed Cherri was standing outside of her bedroom door rubbing her eyes. Sweats and a tank-top, her usual nightclothes. Her blonde hair was down and disheveled like Angel's. 

Angel leaned in his doorway leaning his hip against the frame as he took the blunt in between his fingers. He watched his roommate yawn before noticing his presence. 

"Oh, mornin' Angie." Another nickname she had for him, one he didn't mind either. He laughed.

"Ya couldn't sleep either huh?" She was already going over to the gas stove to put the kettle on for coffee. 

"Bitch your loud ass was snoring again." She complained. Angel walked over to her now preferring to lean against the counter beside the stove. He clicked his tongue as she filled the kettle with water and put it on to boil.

"I don't fucking snore." She smirked as she snatched the cig from his fingers. He glared at her but she ignored it, taking a hit from the now shorter joint. 

"You have a nightmare again?" She asked taking a seat at their tiny square table that only held to chairs. He remained leaning against the counter, the frown playing on his lips had been enough of an answer to her question. 

She sighed the smoke flowing into the air once again. "Hey! I heard Pentious was workin' on some new shit for October! How about we go and check 'em out today?" Angel smiled lightly giving a half-hearted laugh.

"Yeah, sure that sounds like fun. Go and bug that man of yours." She stuck her tongue out at Angel. 

"Bout time you get one for yourself." She stood flicking the finished joint into the wet sink. Angel took her seat down at the table leaning on the wall behind him. Cherri gave him a look for taking her seat but he just stuck up a finger at her and she returned the gesture with a smile. "I'm fine on my own. 'Sides it ain't hard to get laid in this town." 

Cherri smacked her lips as she turned off the kettle reading the coffee. "You know I'm not talking about that." Angel remained quiet, wishing he had another joint to burn or something. 

"I ain't awake enough for this shit Cherri." Angel finally responded, his voice less than sweet. His tone was enough of a warning to drop the subject. 

This wasn't the first time it was brought up and he knew it wouldn't be the last. 

Cherri shrugged, picking up the two mugs and setting Angel's down in front of him before taking the seat across from him.

The blonde male looked at the window in front of the sink. The sun had yet to come up. He chewed on his bottom lip closing his eyes for a moment. 

.

"Ed. What are you doin' here! If my dad finds you he might skin ya alive." The teen whispered in the darkroom, sitting upon his bed. 

The young brunette climbed through the window setting his feet down on the floor. He smiled brightly at the still groggy blonde. 

"I dought it be cool ta see da sunrise with ya. Before I gotta go ta school today." The younger male found himself smiling. 

"Fine..just, warn me next time."

The two laughed quietly, watching through the window as the sun slowly began to rise from the horizon. 

Angel turned his eyes away from the window, the sky beginning to become lighter. He wrapped his hands around the mug and lightly sipped his coffee, welcoming its warmth. 

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(I'm betta off alone.)