#but everything she has done at least so far is reasonable as fuck

[sunniques]

— salacious fixation

cw/tw: hoon is mean and manipulative, yandere themes, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, mentions of previous rounds

minors do not interact.

Sunghoon will be the first to admit that he won’t ever fuck the same person more than two times. It’s an unofficial rule he has, and he’s been able to stick by it for so long because he gets bored so easily. He’s never met anyone who’s been able to hold his attention for longer than a week.

This all changes when he meets you.

The moment he saw you taking shots with Jake, he was done for. Sunghoon felt like a creep for watching you all night, but he was physically unable to look away. Everything about you fascinated him. That night, he was only able to exchange a few words with you, but at the very least he was able to learn your name.

Getting to know you isn’t as easy as Sunghoon hoped. For some reason, you kept an annoying amount of distance from him. You always remained polite and cordial—sweet, even. Yet you always pulled away before he could get too close. It drove him insane and made his fixation more intense.

Finally, Jake let it slip one day that you disregarded him so much because one of your friends had a huge crush on him. Apparently you were a girls girl, or whatever. If Sunghoon were anyone else, he might’ve respected that. But he didn’t. At all.

It’s easy to get your friend to invite him over when you just happen to be hanging out with her. Because your friend is so infatuated with him, she’s quick to let him crash what was meant to be a girl’s night. Sunghoon can tell you’re not happy about it, but as always, you play the part of a sweet angel who goes with the flow.

It makes getting you alone that much easier.

“You’re leaving?” You exclaim, feeling your face heat up when you realize how loud your voice got.

“I’m just going to get some drinks,” your friend assured you, not at all concerned that she’s leaving you alone with her very hot crush. “I know you’re shy, but I won’t take a long time.”

You wonder why Sunghoon can’t go with her, or why she won’t let you leave so you don’t have to be a third wheel. Either way, she makes you promise to stay until she comes back, and you foolishly agree. After all, the liquor store is only thirty minutes away, and she assures you that she’ll be back quickly.

It turns out, it only took ten minutes for Sunghoon to have you naked and spread out on your friend’s bed. You feel like such a nasty slut, but somehow that just turns you on more.

According to Sunghoon, everything would’ve been so much easier if you gave into him from the beginning. Of course, it’s way too late for any of that now. He’s going to have to ruin all of your pretty little holes until he gets you out of his system.

At least, that’s what he thinks until he sinks his aching cock into your needy cunt. Once Sunghoon feels how tightly you’re gripping him, he knows he won’t ever be able to get enough. He’s so nasty, and it shouldn’t get you as wet as it does. However, all of your rational thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind after your pussy got creampied.

“F-Fuck!”

Your wanton cry is loud, rivaling the lewd squelching and skin slapping filling the room. Tears of pleasure stream down your face as Sunghoon fucks his huge, girthy cock into your tight pussy. Your mixed releases are pushed out of your cunt with every rough thrust and drip onto your friend’s bed, but her hot crush is far from done with you.

“S-Sunghoon, please!” You beg through your tears. “More!”

“Who?”

He sounds so mean and ravenous, but that only turns you on more. Your pussy tightens around him as you stain his cock with more of your cream. No one has ever fucked you so roughly before, but you love every second of it.

“Daddy, please!” You mewl into the mattress, face burning at the name he insisted you call him. “Fuck me harder!”

Sunghoon smirks as his large hands grip your ass to spread you open for him. You feel so hot and tight around him that he never wants to stop fucking you. After this, he’ll keep using you over and over until you’ve milked every last drop of cum from his balls.

“God, you’re fucking needy,” his grip is bruising. “Bet you love daddy stretching out this tiny little cunt, huh?”

You nod even though it feels like he’s splitting you in half. It hurts so good, and you know that you wouldn’t stop even if your friend were to walk in on you two right at this very second.

“Can’t believe this cute little pussy is taking my cock,” Sunghoon groans as he helps you bounce back on him. “Thought I’d need to train you a little more. Guess you were just desperate for some cock.”

You moan into the sheets, too fucked out to care about anything except the cock drilling into you and the hot guy it’s attached to.

“You’re so pretty, angel,” Sunghoon coos as his heavy balls slap against your pulsing clit. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

Sunghoon groans in satisfaction when you squirt all over his cock. He licks his lips as his hips start to snap. You’re a fucked out mess underneath him, trembling on his cock from absolute pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Get your friend’s sheets all dirty. Filthy fucking girl.”

All you can do is moan like a slut as Sunghoon fucks you like you’re his personal fucktoy. Part of you wants to finish before your friend gets back, but the other part never wants him to stop. Any guilt you felt has melted away. In a way, this was all her fault for not letting you leave when you first wanted to.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum again,” Sunghoon roughly kneads your ass before he roughly slaps it. You jolt and cry out. “You want that, baby? Want me to fill this tight little cunt?”

“Yes, daddy!” You moan, as you deepen your arch. “Cum in my slutty little pussy. Want it so bad!”

With those needy words, Sunghoon shoots his hot spunk inside you. The loud moans you let out can be heard by your friend as she unlocks the door to her apartment, but Sunghoon only encourages those pretty noises as he fucks his cum deeper into your pussy.

[stardustpr1ncess]

This may be slightly insane to say, however, did anyone else think season 2 is kinda mid so far? Like slightly act 1 but predominantly act 2.

The most all encompassing issue being it's moving too damn fast. Shows having under 10 episodes is hella annoying generally but season 1 felt nowhere near rushed. So many elements feel thrown in that will either get no explanation, we didn't even ask about, or will have an incredibly quick conclusion in act 3.

The entirety of the Ambessa and Mel storyline feels like it both came to a crawl, while also going in the most crazy direction. With the introduction of REAL WITCHES, Mel being part witch (?), and Ambessa just generally being fucking annoying. Like her daughters been kidnapped (once again by fucking witches) and yet she's just bounced to manipulating Caitlyn instead, fighting her goofy ahh war with Zaun, and trying to develop a technology that is essentially impossible to do without the inventors, who are missing from her perspective. When she could be... Looking for her daughter that's like her #1 priority?

The new characters are dummy uncooked. There's the fish enforcer, WHO WAS NOT EVEN NAMED OR GIVEN LINES BUT WAS THROWN IN THE MAIN GROUP ANYWAY. That's like all the info on him. The shield enforcer, please refer to the fish enforcer.

Then Maddie who gets her own paragraph because I know ppl will have quite the reaction to her lol. For the very, very surface level info we have about her, she's cool. She's snatched Caitlyn when Vi wasn't looking, I would've done the same. But once again... Besides that... She doesn't serve the plot besides 1 conversation with Vi, and fucking Caitlyn (which once again, mad respectable, I feel her grind but not like how Caitlyn did-ANYWAY). They only gave her like 2 scenes in act 2 as well 😭. Maybe she'll get 3 in act 3 who knows.

You may have noticed I didn't mention Isha in with the new characters. That's because she's more related to jinx' story than her own character, which in this case is fine. She's essentially what Milo and Clagger were to Powder, but now Isha with jinx. Kinda just a catalyst for act 3 character development. Not much else to say, at least rn, and by me.

Vanders (no, I'm not calling him Warwick. The only time the show says that's his name is in the subtitles. His name is Vander.) arc is moving at the speed of sound, if he's even still alive. He's turned into The Hound of the Lanes (way cooler name fuck you) essentially to see if Singe can, destroys a prison, Jinx and Vi find him and reunite as a familyish. Makes sense so far. They take him to Viktor, who then has a montage of trying to help him, he seemingly has a break through, until the spooky military lady pulls up and Jayce "kills" Viktor and the spooky magic makes Vander a lava monster and the kid shoots him with the spooky magic gun-WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?! HALF OF THAT HAD NO DIALOGUE. No interaction with jinx, seeing the person she became. No reassurance for Vi, who feels like she's failed at everything. Just turn into a lava monster lol. The flashbacks were cool if not unnecessary since Vander and Silco's reasoning for revolution was never in question.

We're just gonna hope Jayce and Viktors story gets more development in act 3, which seems to be the main arc act 3 cared about.

So yeah, turns out I was much more passionate about the season than I thought, lol. Oh, and if there's something I didn't mention, it was either peak fiction or so miniscule it didn't feel worth mentioning.

Thank you for reading.

[true-bluesargent]

rewatching the vampire diaries right now and decided to look up some fanfic and just like see what all was going on out there and dear GOD you guys hate elena so much. what did she do 😭

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction - You Disappear While Pregnant [Mafia Edition]

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

TW: mentions of violence, blood and swearing

CHAN:

Things had been feeling weird all day to Chan, you hadn't replied to any of his messages when usually you were the text-back immediately type of person - with him at least. But he tried to put off the uneasy feeling he got when he thought about it all, the two of you were strong as a couple and him worrying you about not replying wasn't the type of man that he was.

"Changbin, make sure Yn has had something to eat today," Chan said as he came through the door of your shared home, expecting to see you curled up on the sofa doing something but you were nowhere to be seen. It was unlike you to not come and greet him so he figured maybe you were tired and had gone to sleep. Maybe even just popped into the garden and hadn't heard him arrive home.

"She's not here," Changbin called from upstairs, panic began to wash over Chan as he thought through his day. You hadn't said anything the night before about going out and you hadn't been responding to him. Within seconds Chan was making his way up the stairs and into your shared bedroom where he found some of your clothes missing and a suitcase was gone too.

"Fuck! Fuck!" Chan screamed making his way to the bathroom and finding a bunch of your overnight supplies were missing too. This wasn't like you, you weren't the type to run away and it wasn't as though the two of you had just had a fight. Everything was going great for you both, god, you were getting married in less than a year now and Chan thought everything was okay.

"I've started a search and Felix is watching the cameras to see where she went. We'll find her." Changbin said as he watched Chan in the bathroom, he was just sitting on the edge of the tub looking down at the floor trying to rack his brain for any reason you might have done this.

"Just find her, tell me when you do but don't make a move." He mumbles, standing up from the side of the tub and knocking over a bin failing to notice the positive pregnancy test that had fallen onto the floor. 

It had been eight months since you walked out on Chan and they had been the worst eight months of your life, every day was a struggle and it didn't help that you were pregnant.

"Not now, please not now." You groaned as you held onto your bump, letting out a sharp breath as you tried your best to ignore the pain in your back. God, it felt as though someone was stabbing you repeatedly as you prayed for the train to hurry and arrive where you needed to be.

"Mummy, that woman peed herself." A little girl giggled before the train stopped and you hurried off of it and in the direction of some metal seats on the train station platform. It wasn't time, it was too early for the baby to be coming right this second and you were nowhere near a doctor and you weren't about to give birth to your baby on a train platform. 

"Do you need me to call you an ambulance?" The mother of the little girl asked as she made her way over to you, you studied her face for a second before nodding your head. You'd grown a little paranoid since running away from Chan, you knew he was probably doing everything within his power to find you and it wasn't something you wanted to happen. You needed him to stay away from you,

"That won't be necessary." A voice said from the side, you stared over in the direction to see a very panicked-looking Chan making his way toward you. There was sweat dripping down his forehead and he was red in the face, clearly, he'd been running but you had no idea how he'd found you. You weren't in Seoul anymore, you left the second you had the chance to.

"She needs medical attention, she's in labour." The woman argued but you couldn't get words out to tell her to stop you were in far too much pain.

"I'll get her to the hospital," Chan said before Felix and Jeongin escorted the lady and her daughter away and you whimpered a little.

"Channie-" You whimpered out, tears streaming down your cheeks,

"It's nice to know you still like that nickname," His voice came out cold as a group of men began to make their way over to you and you stared at the one in the centre before trying to get up.

"Sit." He ordered gently placing his hand on your shoulder.

"I-I need to go, I can't be near you." You hissed trying to move but Chan was holding your hand, refusing to let you go.

"C-Channie please." You begged your eyes scanning the man at the other end of the platform.

"He said we can't...W-We can't be together." Just like that everything began to click into place for Chan. The only reason you'd left the way you did months ago was because of Hongjoong, he'd told you that it wasn't the right thing for Chan and threatened you to leave without saying anything.

"Who did?" He growled out, your eyes flicking behind him.

"Hongjoong...He said a baby will ruin things." Time suddenly moved slowly as you watched Chan stare over at his advisor and back down at you.

"That's why you ran?" You hated that you couldn't answer him with words and nodded at him.

“Fuck what they think, fuck what anyone thinks. It won't ruin anything, our little baby will only make things better." He promised you as you heard sirens coming.

He was right, of course, he was he always was, but your little girl had only made things better between you and Chan and even made some of his men more loyal to him. They protected you more than ever whenever you were out alone with just you and your little girl and Hongjoong had been demoted so he was no longer able to speak to you - something you'd begged Chan to do instead of killing the man

MINHO:

Everything was too much when you were with Minho and everything pushed you over the edge until there was no coming back from it.  For a while, it seemed that all the two of you ever did was fight and scream at one another and you'd finally had enough and just left. No note, you'd choose a week where you knew he was going to be so busy with his own world that he wasn't going to notice you gone. A week gave you enough time to disappear into the world with a new identity and to create a whole new life for yourself.

Or so you'd thought.

It had been even harder to do this for yourself since you happened to be pregnant. Something you had no idea at the time of running away until it was too late. It wasn't until your third month when you found out and there was no way you were going back, even if you didn't think you could raise a baby alone you were still going to do everything within your power to try.

"Are you sure you're okay walking home alone? I can get Angel to walk with you." Your boss stated as he watched you heading for the door of the bar. Angel was one of the bouncers who worked there, someone who looked like he could scare the stripes off a tiger.

"Nah, I'm good. I'll catch the train so there's no point." You shrugged before heading out into the dark of the night and making your way through the alleyway.

For eight months your life had been good, you'd gotten away from Seoul and everyone who ever knew you, you had a new identity you went by and no one could connect you to Minho anymore. You worked your own job, had your own place - sure it wasn't the best but it was still home - and your boss was even letting you bring your kid to work since he knew how badly you needed the money.

"So this is where you've been hiding?" A voice sounded from behind you and you didn't need to see him to know it was Minho and it felt like your whole world was coming down around you.

"How did you find me?" Your voice shook but you didn't turn around to face him just yet, you didn't know if he knew about your pregnancy.

"It wasn't easy. I taught you well."

"I was a fast learner." You mumbled a little, you knew this was going to end with him seeing your bump but you couldn't bring yourself to face him.

"Why did you run off, little bird?" The nickname he had for you made your heart flutter and you hated that he still had that kind of effect on you after all this time. But then again, it didn't matter how much time passed you still found yourself hopelessly in love with him.

"I had my reasons." You pulled your coat tighter around yourself but it did little to hide the bump that you were sporting,

"Another man?" You scoffed a little at him you both knew that there was no way you'd ever do that to him.

"You know I'd never do that."

"True. So what was it?" You heard his steps getting closer to you until he was right behind you and you slowly turned to face him, letting your coat fall down to the sides.

"Pregnant," His voice came out in a whisper and he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"You need to come back." He stated plainly, his eyes not leaving the bump you had but you were shaking your head at him,

“I don't think I can come back. Too much has happened, too much…water has passed under the bridge. I can't do with the fights anymore Minho, I can't." You choked out before you felt a pain in your back and you bent over a little clutching onto your stomach.

"You're pregnant with my child, you're coming home."

"N-No...I need the hospital," You whimpered looking at Minho who was already on the phone to emergency services.

"I've had Felix and Changbin fix the office into a nursery," Minho told you as he walked into the room to see you feeding your little boy.

"Did you tell them about needing to get more diapers?"

"I've got Chan and Seungmin on that job," He smiled proudly walking over and kissing the top of your head. It was going to take a long time to repair your relationship but a family together was something you were going to build from.

CHANGBIN:

You'd walked out on him, you'd just packed up your shit and walked away from him. You'd seen no point in staying in a relationship with someone who was never even there for most of it, missing birthdays and anniversaries that the two of you were supposed to share. You'd just walked out and tried to never look back, but it was damn near impossible when you were pregnant with his kid. Something he was also never there for, he'd never shown any interest in your baby, never came to appointments or shopping with you.

"Do you think he knows we're here?" You asked your bump as you looked out of the window. You were six months pregnant and constantly on the run which wasn't good, your doctors told you it wasn't good but what were you meant to do when one of the most powerful men in the world was looking for you?

There were sirens outside and you slid back into bed, sighing a little as you tried your best not to focus on what was going on outside. You were in one of the sketchiest neighbourhoods you'd ever seen and you were praying the lock you had on the door would be enough to keep you safe tonight.

“I've already lost her once I'm not going to lose her again,” Your eyes flew open and you saw Changbin standing at the end of your bed but it wasn't the room you'd fallen asleep in. Instead, all of the walls around you were white and there was a loud beeping coming from the side of you

"What the fuck?!" You screamed as you stared at him and then at the other men trying to see if you knew any of them but none of them felt familiar to you.

"Leave," Changbin ordered making a bunch of men you'd never seen before leave the room and you stared at him confused as to how he'd gotten you to a hospital without you waking up once.

"Glad you finally woke up princess," He sat down beside your bed and you stared at him, studying his face before folding your arms over your chest.

"You've resorted to kidnapping now?"

"If it means you'll come home, yes." You roll your eyes at him, of course, he would expect you to just come home after he'd done nothing to fix what he did in the past.

"Why? So you can ignore me and the baby for the rest of our lives?" You hissed bitterly before Changbin's hand took yours and he shook his head at you.

"I would never-"

"You never came to any appointments, you always forgot our anniversaries and my birthday. I was going to put our son through that!" You cut him off angrily and his eyes softened,

"He's a boy?" Tears began to build up in his eyes as he stared at you and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"Yes...Yes, he's a boy." You mumbled before looking at the screen beside your bed, your heart rate and your son's were both displayed on the screen.

"I'll have them fix the nursery then. I'd been painting it to be pink." He chuckled a little taking his phone out of your pocket and leaving you even more confused than before.

"What?"

"I hadn't been ignoring you...w-well I had but I'd been working on a surprise. I was convinced we were having a girl so I had the nursery made up pink." He admitted before you whimpered a little.

"You did all of that?" You quizzed wondering where this side of him had been the whole time you’d known him

"I did, I would never just ignore you." You sniffled a little as tears began to roll down your face.

"You still kidnapped me." You reminded him as if he could ever forget. He’d spent months tracking you down and it was the best plan he’d ever done.

"With good reason." He added with a sly smirk making you giggle a little at him

"Still a crime," 

"When has that ever bothered me?" He smirked before kissing you gently.

HYUNJIN: EXTRA TRIGGER WARNING! Reader is slapped by a third party!

You slowly lifted your head and looked around your surroundings, nothing had changed in god knows how long you'd been here and you don't know why you held out hope for it to chance in the first place. The men that had taken you told you that the only reason you weren't dead was because of the baby, something that they were going to use as leverage over your husband.

"Morning sunshine, want some food?" One of the men - Lucas as you found out - taunted as he waved around food in front of you before eating it and making lewd sounds about how good it tasted. All of them made you feel physically sick to your stomach, they would taunt you with food or drinks whenever they had it only to give you just enough table scraps to keep you healthy.

"Hyunjin is going to kill you when he finds me." You spat out, looking up at the ceiling and whimpering a little. You were about eight months pregnant which meant at any point any stress could send you into an early labour and you were doing everything within your power to make sure it didn't happen. You weren't going to let a group of men take your daughter away.

"If he finds you, any day now you're going to pop, give us what we want and we'll kill you." You swallowed the lump in your throat because you knew he was right. If Hyunjin hadn't found you by now then there was a slim chance that he wasn't going to find you before you gave birth and it worried you.

You'd always had faith and trust in your husband but you didn't know how many days or even weeks you'd been here, you'd lost count since the men would sedate you to move you from a bed and back to a chair where they left you tied up for hours.

"The doc is coming later to check on the baby," Croft said as he looked at Lucas who simply nodded at him and went back to eating his food in front of you. 

The doctor who had come to see you was really nice, great even and you could have sworn you'd seen him before.

"The baby is healthy, both of them have a healthy heartbeat but there is one slight problem." Your heart broke at the idea of a problem with your child.

"Is she okay?!" You panicked earning a slap across the face from Lucas for speaking out when you weren't supposed to and you whimpered looking down at the floor.

"The child is fine, the problem is Lucas." Before Lucas could question what was happening shots rang out throughout the warehouse and multiple men were shot dead on the floor leaving just you, the doctor and Lucas alive with a gun pointed at his head.

"Cut her free," The doctor ordered as a metal shutter began to open, you squinted in the direction and saw Hyunjin making his way through with a giant smile on his face.

"I knew you'd come but what took so fucking long!?" You screamed as you were finally free from the chair and slowly stood up.

"The little rat is too good at covering his tracks," Hyunjin grumbled as he held your face in his hands turning it from side to side as if he were checking you over. Once he saw that you were fine he let you go and turned his focus on the man that had taken you.

"You know," You started as you stared around the warehouse where about 60 of Hyunjin's men were waiting with their guns trained on him,

“There’s an unspoken rule where if this many people are trying to kill you, then you should be dead already.” You grumbled before Hyunjin wrapped his arm around you and nodded at his men, giving them the all clear for what they needed to do.

JISUNG:

What on earth made you think that you could do this? You couldn't do this and you were nowhere near ready like you thought you were. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you laid your head back on the edge of the bathtub, the water filled with blood and whatever else was coming out of you at this point and you cried to yourself.

"Fucking arsehole!" You screamed gripping the edges of the grungy tub that you were laid in, screaming out in agony as you tried to do the breathing techniques you'd been reading about. 

Everyone had told you how beautiful birth was going to be but none of them told you about the pain you were going to feel, like how you felt as though someone was ripping you apart from your vagina. No drugs to help you, no one to tell you if you were dilated.

You were alone and in some sketchy neighbourhood and a dirty apartment with no one around you. No friends, no husband, completely alone because everyone had forgotten about you and left you behind.

"Why did you have to come now?! You couldn't have waited a few more weeks?!" You yelled through the tears, ignoring the sirens that were outside of the apartment building that you were currently residing inside. It was every day that sirens went flying through and you'd tried to drown them out but now it was impossible, you prayed that they were somehow for you. That Jisung had finally remembered you and came to get you but no hope.

Hongjoong had told you that Jisung would come and get you within a month of you hiding out in the "safe home" but it didn't feel much of a safe home when you were in the worst neighbour imaginable and felt at threat every second of the day. You did some deep breathing as you heard someone pounding on the door, probably telling you to be quiet but you were about to give birth in a tub there was no being quiet.

"Fuck...y-you," You whispered suddenly feeling as though your eyes were too heavy to keep open and you looked down at the water, it had to be time to push surely. There was no way you could keep going through all of this pain.

"Yn?!" The door to the bathroom burst open and Jisung was staring at you, wide-eyed as he took in the scene around him

"What are you-" Before he could finish asking you let out a loud scream as another contraction hit you and he was on his knees on the floor beside the tub.

"I've got you." He whispered as men rushed into the scene, looking away from your naked body.

“I feel like everyone just forgot I existed," You whispered out to Jisung, looking at him a little unsure if any of this was even real at his point.

"I killed Hongjoong," He mumbled wiping sweat off your forehead,

"Baby he made it look like you ran away, left me a note...I-I had no idea where you were." The pain from the birth and heartache all crashed into one as sobs began to leave your throat.

Weeks of hospital treatment later you were home once again but on bed rest, Jisung's orders not the doctor's. He was refusing to let you move for as long as humanly possible and did everything he could for you.

"I'm okay, I can run my own bath." You told Jisung as you watched him running a bubble bath for you while your baby slept soundly in the bedroom.

"I want to do this for you." He whispered as you held him from being. He was doing everything he could to make up for you being alone all this time, the guilt was overwhelming for him but you hadn't blamed him for a second.

FELIX:

Your head was killing you when you woke up and you tried to lift your hand to your head but it was met with resistance and the sound of metal clanging on the floor. You weren't home that was for sure and if you were you were going to kick your husband's butt for some silly prank he was pulling.

"What the fuck?" You looked at your wrists and saw a metal cuff around them and down at your ankles it was the same. Your eyes shot around the room and you saw a camera in the corner facing you and it had a blinking red light, meaning it was recording or live.

"Who the fuck are you?! What do you want?!" You did your best to sound as confident as possible but it was impossible since you had no idea who had taken you in the first place.

"Someone who wants revenge." A voice sounded before a door opened and an elderly man walked in with the help of a cane,

"Your husband took something...someone from me and I plan to do the same." He stepped closer to you and you were able to see a huge scar down the left side of his face and you instantly knew who he was. Jan was one of the men Felix had to take down in order for him to become who he is today, one of the biggest mafia leaders in the country. 

"He didn't kill your daughter, your own men did." You spat out knowing the story of his daughter already. Felix had tried to save her, getting her out of the house before he burnt it down but Jan's own men took her back into the building, shooting her to make it look like Felix had done it.

"You're a silly brainwashed little girl, your husband took what was mine and now I will do the same." He reached out to touch your bump and you slapped his hand away, you were almost ready to pop which made you more scared for your daughter's life.

"He'll kill you." You grumbled rubbing your bump as you stared at the man who simply smirked at you.

"Actually, he'll do everything he can to find you and slip up. I'll be waiting for him with his daughter in my hands and his wife dead beside me." You felt sick as he walked out of the room, slamming and bolting it shut before you leaned your head back on the wall.

"You stay in there as long as possible, you don't come early." You mumbled to your stomach, whimpering at the thought of this all happening.

As soon as Felix found out that you were missing he knew who was responsible, it really didn't take a genius to figure it out either and Jan hadn't been the sneakiest of people when it came to plans.

"I want men at every entrance, dead on sight," Felix ordered into the earpiece as he sneakily made his way toward the basement window. Men had been watching the building for a week now trying to find weak points in the security system and there was one. There were no guards, no cameras. It was just Jan on his own in a house that seemed to be abandoned,

"Lix?" You whispered when you saw him at the window, a smirk on his lips as he began to break it open, sliding through it with ease.

"How-" Before you could ask the door was opened and men came through, your men who were all smiling at you happy to see you were okay.

"Where's Jan?" You asked as you made your way through the home and up the stairs, a car was failing to start out in the drive and you all began to make your way in the direction. The frail-looking man looked panicked as he tried to start the engine of a very run-down-looking car.

“Running doesn't matter i’ll hunt you down if you do," Felix said loud enough for him to hear but Jan continued to try the engine again and again until clouds of dark smoke left the hood before he was pulled from the car and dragged toward a van.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" You shook your head, for the most part, he'd left you alone and just fed you and let you use the bathroom but Felix was still going to make him pay for taking you.

SEUNGMIN:

The old lady you'd made friends with over the last month was holding your hand as she walked you around the small spare room in her home. This wasn't supposed to be happening right now, you were supposed to be long gone from Seoul before you gave birth but it seemed as though your son was going to come earlier than you wanted him to.

"We should get you to a hospital," She told you as you gripped onto her hand and shook your head, hosptials meant that Seungmin could track you down and you'd been doing everything you could to stay off his radar and you were going to keep it that way.

"He'll find me, he can't find me." You pleaded, she knew your story and why you'd run away but for the whole month she'd known you she had been trying to convince you to go back to Seungmin and have him be there with you.

"He should be here for the birth of his son." She scolded and you rolled your eyes at her. No one seemed to understand why you'd walked away from him, the two of you were fighting more than usual. You'd heard him say he wasn't even sure he wanted a child and so you didn't give him a choice, you ran.

"He said he wasn't sure he wanted him, I took the choice away." You groaned before bending over with your palms flat on the bed, screaming out in agony as a contraction hit you.

"I'm sure he was just nervous and he never meant it," She pleaded with you before the door opened and someone walked inside. Your head slowly looked behind you and you groaned seeing your husband standing there with a doctor by his side.

"You called him?!" You screamed trying to push her hands off you as Seungmin walked over to you but the lady continued to hold onto you, rubbing your lower back.

"Of course she did, you really think I'd let you get that easy?!"

"You said you weren't sure you wanted him. I took the choice away from you, leave." You hissed out but he shook his head at you,

“Aren't you tired? Can we stop this and give our hearts a rest?” You hated that he sounded so poetic when all you wanted to do was hate him,

"She's almost ready," The old lady mumbled as you shook your head there was no way you wanted to do this here, you wanted drugs to numb the pain anything, 

"You need to push," Seungmin told you as he held onto your hand, your eyes meeting his as you let out a whimper,

"I'm not ready, we're not ready!" You yelled and he chuckled a little kissing your cheek.

"No one is ever ready baby." He held onto your hand and you whined out knowing that it was time to push.

As soon as Seungmin was holding your son in his hands he was smiling at you,

"I-I'm sorry I ever doubted this," He told you as he held onto his son's tiny hand, watching him sleep peacefully in his arms as you laid your head on Seungmin's shoulder tiredly.

"If you ever say it again, we will be gone and you will never find us," You warned him as he nodded at you, kissing the top of your head as he promised that it would never happen again.

JEONGIN:

You had no idea what you were thinking when you'd disappeared months ago, there was no way that you were ever going to do this alone. Maybe if it had just been you on your own everything would have been fine but after running away you found out that you were pregnant. The only reason you'd run was because you were scared of the life he led, you weren't sure it was something you could see yourself in but ever since you discovered you were pregnant you knew you needed to come back.

Your child deserved a father in their life, even if it meant co-parenting instead of getting back together with him but you still loved Jeongin. You didn't think you could ever stop loving him for that matter.

"Yn?" Jisung whispered as you waited inside one of the buildings that Jeongin owned, you knew sooner or later one of his men would see you and tell Jisung or even bring you to him.

"Hey, is Jeongin around?" You weren't showing yet, no one would know that you were pregnant by looking at you and you were thankful for that.

"In his office, I'll take you up." Jisung took your arm gently and began to take you up. It had been a weird few months with their boss who lashed out at everyone who was close to him and refused to speak to anyone unless he needed to.

"What?!" Jeongin snapped as Jisung knocked on the door and walked inside. As soon as Jeongin turned around you felt guilt prickling your skin, he looked rough and that was putting it lightly.

He hadn't shaven in months, he was sporting a full beard which you assumed was to hide all of the bags under his eyes.

"Yn?" His voice broke but he quickly cleared his throat as he stared at you, not moving from his chair. He was too scared that if he did you'd suddenly disappear again.

"Hi." You mumbled a little as Jisung silently left the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving you alone with the man you loved.

"What can I do for you?" He asked, putting on his business voice as you slowly stepped toward the desk and dropped the ultrasound photos down onto the desk.

"I don't want money...I want you in the kid's life, even if you don't want me." You told him as you watched him slowly pick up the photos, you waited for him to question if it was even his but those questions never came. 

"Move in, we'll create a nursery...we'll have everything ready."

"You'll forgive me? Just like that?" You were stunned at how he was just ready to throw everything into the past and come back to you. You expected some kind of resistance from him, or that he'd want a paternity test.

"You're the mother of my child...the love of my life, you could stab me and I would forgive you." You scoffed a little at him, of course, he would say something like that.

"That's toxic." You smirked at him before he shook his head at you.

"Shut up." He grumbled before shaking his head at you and looking back at the photos with tears in his eyes.

"You need to shave, I won't come back until the beard is gone." You told him as he moved to hold you in his arms.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @wolfgurl2600 @just-aelia @choisoorin@straykids5star @minholythighs @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @compersian @scarletemeterio @alicejustwakeup @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @peachyproductions @lenfilms @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred @kpopstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @stzatzch @b1nn1e-1s-cut3 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella

[karaeilishh]

TAKE ME BACK : smut

summary: you're going to a party with your cool girlfriend. When she stops paying you proper attention, you switch to a random guy in a bar. and she won't like it at all...

warnings: dom!billie, sub!brat!reader, jealousy, strap (r receiving), degradation, oral (r/billie receiving), r called a slut many times

w/c: 3,4k

a/n: eng is not my first language! enjoy this dirty shit <33

requests open!

“Hey babygirl. You look upset. Can I please you with a cocktail?”

You roll your eyes once again, sitting on an uncomfortable couch in the corner of some club that Billie brought you to because her friends really wanted to see her. You were on the other side of town and you knew that you wouldn't be home until morning, because it was well past midnight, and your girlfriend didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. Billie was drunk enough and this evening you regretted not drinking alcohol. At least you wouldn't be so bored and lonely.

You've been hanging around your girlfriend for the last two hours so that she would pay attention to you, but her attention was only on her friends, whom she hadn't seen for a whole week. You didn't know why everything turned out this way today, because usually Billie can't take her eyes off you; You put your head on her shoulder, pressed your bare thigh against her thigh, you whispered in her ear, but you only got: “Babe, later.” Later? Fine. Your patience has run out.

You step onto the dance floor; hungry glances at your beautiful curves. Billie told you to wear that fucking mini dress that hugs every muscle on your stomach, your chest and parts of your thighs. Who can blame other people for their looks when you look like a damn angel? You don't even start dancing; you walk away to someone's brazen whistle; what do these men allow themselves? It's always like with a piece of meat. You want to go to Billie, but the thought of her telling you to just sit in silence again is maddening; you go to the bar. There are a lot of men, but you carefully walk past them and sit on the bar stool. 

“What?” You woke up in a few seconds. There's a guy in front of your face now, no, more like a man. He has an atypical neat outfit for a place like this. The club stinks of other people's sweat and drunk people, but it has a nice perfume. You don't know why you noticed it. His perfume? You can definitely feel it, he leaned closer, repeating his question.

“I asked if I could buy you a drink?” You heard him this time, but you couldn't answer him right away. You can't agree because you're here with your girlfriend, you're taken. But does she even care about you now? After all, nothing will happen if you just talk with someone at the club while your lover is not paying any attention to you. “Please don't tell me you don't drink. I'm not creative for another reason to get to know each other” Actually, you don't drink, but you can agree, right?

“Um, could you get a mojito for me? I don't like strong drinks.” The man nods knowingly and smiles. “Everything for a sweet girl in a bar” He signals to the bartender, apparently they are familiar. 

“Did you hear what the lady said? Mojito. And pour less rum” He turns to you, saying that your mojito will be done in a minute. You nod and thank him, trying to fight the strange feeling in your chest. It's like you're going to be punished for talking to him.

“You're very beautiful, but you're not talkative. I bet you don't go to places like this often?” He tilts his head slightly, as if trying to figure out what and who you're thinking about right now. You adjust your dress and look up at his face. “Yeah, I don't like noisy places.” His gaze darted to your hands resting on your hips.

“I get it. Well, tell me, what's your name?” His voice echoes in your head. You want to tell him that your acquaintance shouldn't go that far, you're going to say “No” when you hear a familiar voice behind you. “No.”The smell of her perfume hits your nose, her tired face with bruises under her eyes is in front of your eyes, her hair is scattered on your bed. Her voice is usually gentle, but not now.

“I'm sorry?” He's not looking at you. He's looking at someone behind you and you know exactly who it is. Her hands are on your waist, on your hips. She's only been here for a few seconds, but she's already been able to claim you. You can't see her face, but you know damn well she's giving your new friend a murderous stare right now. “Apology accepted” The next moment, she drags you through a crowd of drunk and stoned people right to the exit of the club. She's a little shaky because of the amount she's drunk. It's cool outside, but your body is burning because of her. Billie drags you on until you're around the corner where no one will bother you. Your body hit a cold brick wall, her voice cut through the tense air between you, you shuddered. “What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

Your fingertips touch the wall behind you, her drunken breath on your face. You didn't like it when she drank, but the smell of alcohol was never annoying. “I was just talking to him.” You sound quieter and more insecure than you thought you'd be. Your eyes are directed straight to her eyes, hungry and greedy, you are breathing heavily. “Is that why he's ordering you a drink and trying to find out your name? Have you even seen the way he looks at you? If he offered to fuck you, would you be so responsive?”Her voice is loud and a little hysterical. Her hands are in the pockets of her shorts, but you can feel how much she wants to touch you.

“You're exaggerating, Billie.” You look at her, your voice is cold, but everything inside you is burning. You know that she always turns you on like that, even though you hide it. “Am I exaggerating? Are you fucking kidding me right now?” She grins, her hand on your wrist, until she interlaces your fingers randomly. She takes you to the car and you try to tell her that she can't drive, but she shuts you up. “If you act like a slut, I'll treat you like a slut.” Billie pushes you into the car and buckles your seat belt. She's so damn angry, the veins in her arms are bulging, but she still cares about you, and this one makes your hips clench harder. It makes you wet. The air in the car heats up when she slams the door and sits in the driver's seat. Her gaze is focused on the road, but her mind has turned into your home.

The long drive home is accompanied by her rapid breathing. You can literally hear her heartbeat. You can see the different scenarios of that night unfolding in her head. All of them are ended by your face pressed against the mattress while she fucks you. Her hand squeezes her hip, she bites her lip and you feel what's happening to her. You know for sure. You gently take her hand and put it between your legs. She swallows hard, her fingers squeeze your skin and you melt under her touch. “You're fucking driving me crazy, you know that?” She parks the car in the garage of your house, and the next thing you remember is her all over your body, when you crash into the bedroom door, Billie, dragging you inside. Your body falls onto the mattress, your breathing is knocked out, and your hair is already slightly disheveled.

“You're going to have to apologize properly, angel.” You're breathing heavily, looking into her eyes with obvious desire. You feel completely naked under her gaze, which screams at you that you are a fucking slut. For her. Billie's movements are feverish as she pulls off her shorts, reaches for your favorite drawer in your bedroom. Your eyes widen when she picks up your favorite strap. His curves were perfect for you, hitting the right spots. You're looking at it greedily. And Billie saw it.

"Such a greedy girl for a dick, don’t you?" She grins as she puts the toy down on the bed next to you. Her body hovers over yours as she devours you with her gaze. Her hand flies to your neck, squeezing tighter than usual. "I wanna destroy, babe. I wanna fucking destroy you so that you learn your lesson." Your mind is drifting because of her words, you want to push her to do it.

"It was your fault." You look into her eyes, clearly seeing something snap inside her. Her grip on your neck tightens and you feel like you're getting less air. "What?" Her voice was so threatening that you were almost sure your underwear was already soaked. You knew that no matter how mean she was, she would never hurt you more than you asked for.

"I said it was your fault. You ignored me all night! What are you-" Your words get caught in your throat when you feel a painful blow on your thigh. You swallow hard, looking into your girlfriend's eyes. You've seen her lose control when you act like this. But how can she blame you when you're so desperately begging her to destroy you?

"You dare accuse me of acting like a slut, craving my attention? Well, you'll get it." Billie's voice drips with arrogance. She knew she should have given you some attention, but she's always been too much of a bitch to admit she was wrong.

She pulls you to your feet, forcing you to stand in front of her as she attaches the strap on her hips and sits on the edge of the bed. "You wanna be a brat, babe? Then I'll have to shut you up." She looks up at you, then leans down and whispers, "Knees."

Right now, you want nothing more than to drop to your knees and take her strap so deep that tears run down your cheeks and your knees are red. "I'm not being a brat." You hiss, looking into her eyes. You know this won't turn out well.

"Didn't you hear me?" She raises an eyebrow and pushes you down, causing your knees to hit the floor hard. You whine, clutching her knees for support. “Angel, don’t make me move your head on my own. I know you want this.”

You gasp at her words, tucking your loose hair behind your ears. You lean down slowly, running your tongue along the length of her cock. Your eyes lock onto her face as you slowly push the strap into your mouth. Maybe your slowness was on purpose. “Come on babygirl, I know you can do better.”

She rolls her eyes, grabbing your hair. Your head moves at an unusually fast pace. You grip her hips tighter, trying to slow her down and suppress your gag reflex. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to keep up the pace and not choke on the silicone in your mouth. You try to moan her name, but Billie just smirks.

“Good sluts don’t complain, huh, babe?” She pulls your head away from her cock, holding your hair. Your lips are smeared with your spit, your cheeks are wet with tears. You breathe heavily. “You are my good slut, aren’t you? Use your words.”

“Yes, yes I am…” You swallow hard, looking at your girlfriend with undisguised desire. You knew this night would be long, very long. “Very good….”

Billie takes your hands and lays you down on the bed, her eyes wandering over your body, your mess. “Such a beautiful angel for me. Too bad I have to ruin you.” She chuckles and you whine, squeezing your thighs together tighter. She reaches for your legs, lifting your dress up to your waist. Billie smiled at the beautiful underwear you’re wearing . “For me?” She smiles, spreading your legs and pressing two fingers into your soaked panties. “Fuck, baby, you’re dripping!”

You gasp when you finally feel her hands on you. You bite your bottom lip, watching her tease you. “Did you get wet kneeling in front of me? Or was it when I called you a slut at the club, hm?” Her eyes are playful as she looks into yours. You both know the answer, you both know that she doesn’t have to do anything to you to get you wet. “At the club…” You answer quietly and Billie bites her lip. God, she looked so sexy doing that.

"And who are you so wet for, huh?" She takes off your dress over the top, her mouth flies to your breasts. She bites it through the fabric of a lace bra. You moan, throwing your head back. "You, you, Billie… Please!" Your despair causes sincere satisfaction in your girlfriend. She knows that you will never want to leave her for someone else. She will make you squirm under her touch while you repeat that she is the only one for you.

“Good girl. Such a good girl for me,” Billie praises, kissing and biting down your beautiful body. She adored your body. Such a divine and only hers. You could feel the marks on your skin under her touch. “Bils, I need you. I really need you...” You're whimpering, making her smile.

“Do you think you can handle it?” She bites her lower lip, tilting her head to the side. Her gaze makes your body weaken even more. She had no idea what kind of influence she had on you. “Yes, yes I can, I promise!” You get up on your elbows to get a better look at her face.

“What a dirty girl,” Billie giggles, bending down to pick up the edge of your underwear with her teeth. Oh, you were crazy when she did that. Her every action, her every breath and look made you lose yourself in love with her. Even if she was going to destroy you right now. Your woman.

“Baby, you're so wet. Is my girl ready for me yet?” She smiles, easily sliding two fingers into you. Her palm pressed against your clitoris, adding extra friction. Her fingers slid inside you so easily that you were ashamed of how wet you were because of her. “Just shut up...”You exhaled heavily, covering your face with your hands. She laughed.

“Oh, my little slut wants to shut me up? I don't think it's going to work, baby.” Billie abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips. She greedily licks each phalanx of her fingers, moaning contentedly. You looked at her from under your eyelashes, still feeling the aching emptiness without her fingers inside you. As soon as Billie cleaned her fingers, she licked her lips, bending over your body. “You need to learn to watch your tongue, angel.”

These words sounded more harsh than anything else. Billie grabbed your hips and turned you over on your stomach. Your face was buried in the mattress and your ass was hanging in the air when Billie left a few ringing slaps on your delicate skin. “Hey!” You're whimpering, looking at her over your shoulder. “Oh, spare me those pathetic sounds.” She presses your head against the mattress, burying her hand in your hair. The tip of her strap teases your entrance, making you gasp with desire.

“Please, Bils...”You close your eyes, praying that she will give you what you want. “Not a brat anymore? It seems you just need a dick to shut that beautiful mouth.” She grins and you feel her cock slamming into you. Silicone slides easily inside you, making you grab the sheets and whimper into the it. After making a few slow thrusts, you feel Billies's hips against yours. She entered completely. “That's it, baby. You take me so well...”

You let loud moans fly from your lips when Billie finds the perfect angle, driving into all the right points. There are new tears in your eyes. A new pleasure. Your hair is disheveled and tangled because of your girlfriend's tight grip, and there is no trace of evening makeup left. She's always made you like this. She destroyed you with her presence, her voice, her gaze, her dick. “Faster...”

Billie grins at your plea, but obediently complied with your request, pushing into you with a new speed. You grab the sheets, looking at her over your shoulder. How sexy she looked. “Where's my sweet angel, huh? You're such a mess, baby.” You whimper when you see how she looks at you.

“Billie... I'm so close...”You're mumbling to yourself, praying that she'll hear. Of course she did. But she was such a bitch tonight. “What? Angel, I don't understand a word...”She was teasing and playing with you. You both knew what she was waiting for.

You want to sigh, but only moans come out of you. On trembling and weak hands, you get up on your elbows and try to talk to her the way she wants. Politely. “Billie, I wanna cum... Please, can I?” You immediately fall back, burying your face in the sheets, when pornographic moans come out of your mouth.

“Mm, such a polite girl... Cum for me” You laugh hysterically, feeling your walls squeeze her strap. It was the best feeling in the world. Your eyes are tightly closed, you literally bite the sheets, arching your back as you cum on her dick. You can't see her face, but you can tell for sure that she's smiling, watching what she's did to you. Not that guy from the bar, not anyone else. She. Only she could do it.

“Jesus, Bils...”You're breathing heavily, lifting your head from the wet sheets. Her strap is still moving inside you, helping you overcome a hard orgasm. “That's it, baby, you did so well...”She praises you by stroking your hair. It's one step from tenderness to rudeness, huh? Her grip tightens abruptly, forcing you to look at her through tears. “God, my poor baby. What a pity that I'm not finished with you yet” You're breathing hard, your mouth is dry, and you're sticking your tongue out like a fucking puppy after her games. Billie leans closer, her face inches from yours, and you already know what she's going to do. You always know what's behind that look. She collects saliva in her mouth for a few seconds and spits on your fucking tongue. As if you didn't ask for it yourself. Her warmth spreads over your tongue and you close your mouth. “Swallow” You obey and she gently kisses your cheekbone. The only thing she did gently this evening.

Billie turns you over on your back, laying your head on the pillows. She settles between your legs, devouring your body with her gaze. “Open wide for me, love” She purrs and you obediently spread your weak legs. Billie runs his fingers through your folds, collecting moisture. She brings her fingers to your mouth. “Suck” You swallow hard and take two of her fingers in your mouth, circling each with your tongue.

While you're engrossed in her fingers, Billie bends down to your pussy and runs her tongue over it, making you sigh and bite her. She hums into your flesh, looking up at you with adoring eyes. “No teeth, baby.” She grins and continues to devour you like a hungry animal.

Your sensitivity made itself felt and you tried to pull out her fingers to tell her, but she just pressed them against your tongue, depriving you of any opportunity to speak. You instinctively raised your hips, warning her. Your legs were shaking with pleasure and pain from over-stimulation. Your heels were crumpling the fabric of her shirt. You almost choked her with your hips. But she was just getting turned on.

Billie tapped your hips, giving you tacit permission to cum again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, showing you the stars of pleasure. You can't help but bite her fingers again, but this time she lets you, seeing your condition. She helps you get through your orgasm and gets up to put her head on your chest.

“I'm so proud of you, dove... But we'll have to change the sheets.” She starts laughing, and you can't help but pick up on her laughter, even though you're a little embarrassed. You gently run your hand through her hair, removing the hair band that has almost come off her hair. You put the band on your wrist and hug her tightly.

“You know you're my only one, right?”

“I know, angel.”

[authorhjk1]

Hi! Hope you can make something spectacular of Joy in this pls. The kind to easily suck her nonstop iykwim. 🥵

Blue

(Joy X Male Reader)

"You taste delicious."

You mumble into Joy's pussy, before taking a deep breath.

"I-Oh!"

Joy's words are cut off, when you resume eating her out.

After Seulgi gave in to the temptation, you were sure the rest of them would as well. And you weren't surprised at all, when it was Joy who took your hand and let you out of the girls' dressing room.

In this very moment, Irene is doing her job as a host for one of the music shows, while you are devouring her bandmate's sweet pussy.

Just like Seulgi, Joy doesn't have a clue that Irene is in on this as well. She thinks you are cheating on her leader.

You are still surprised that both women are completely fine with fucking a taken man. Even if it's one of their best friend's boyfriend. Although, you do remember that Joy and Irene had an argument this morning. You don't know what it was about. But this might be the reason, why Joy is doing is. Or at least one of the reasons.

"Oh, fuck. Your tongue."

Joy whines as she feels your tongue pressing on her clit.

"H-How isn't unnie constantly sitting on your face?"

Her lewd question makes you smile into her pussy as you keep eating her out.

While Irene does like to be fucked in front of the others, receiving oral is something she deems too intimate for the girls to see. It doesn't make sense to you, since she would happily suck you off in the living room, while they watch TV.

"Fuck! I'm gonna-!"

Joy's body trembles, her legs close around your head.

"Oh god!"

Her loud cry makes you wonder, if Irene can her hear. The two of you aren't that far away from the stage.

Joy cums on your face as you lap up her juices. She tastes similar to Seulgi, but sweeter.

As you reappear from underneath her dress, you see Joy's face after a while. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes darker than usual.

"I wanna suck your dick."

She bites her lip, once she says those words. She can't help but get turned on even more at the thought of stealing Irene's boyfriend.

You push Joy to her knees in return, while you stand up. Your pants follow her to the floor a moment later.

"I can finally appreciate it, without her being in the way."

Joy's eyes glisten with, well... joy.

She quickly wraps her lips around your cock and starts sucking. She knows the two of you don't have much time left. The other girls will be looking for her soon and Irene is almost done too.

"Damn, baby."

Your moan makes Joy put in even more effort. The fact that you called her that, instead of Irene, almost makes her ruin the floor she is kneeling on.

"That's a good girl."

You sigh, holding her hair back, while you watch Joy in action.

Eventually, you do want more though. After a couple of moments, you slowly push her head off your cock.

"I want to fuck you."

Joy smiles up at you. She lets your dick fall out of her mouth, before gathering her saliva and spitting on it.

"How do you want me?"

She coats your cock in her saliva with her hands as she asks.

"Just try to be quiet."

You reply, knowing that she probably won't be able to.

After helping Joy off her knees, you lead her towards the couch and make her sit on it. The dressing room is right to Red Velvet's, where the other girls are, so you do hope she is not gonna be too loud. Instead of just fucking her on her back, you hook your arms underneath Joy's legs and fold her in half. Her knees are now pressed against her chest and her pussy reveals itself as the hem of her blue dress rides up.

"I'm gonna breed you now."

"Oh fuck, yes."

Joy gasps as she hears your words. You align yourself with her pussy and then you push inside of her.

"Dump all of that cum in me, baby. I want everything that's meant for her."

You have to laugh internally. Irene was right. Joy has a breeding kink. You don't know how she knows, but you appreciate her telling you.

"I'm gonna give you all of it. Your pussy will drip with my cum, while you talk to her."

Joy's eyes roll back as you start fucking her into the couch. The position she is in makes her look smaller than she actually is. And easier to handle. You use Joy's pussy like a fleshlight as you have your way with her. The only thing she can do is moan and whine. She can't move.

"Pound my pussy, yes!"

You want to quiet her, by leaning over and kissing her, but you know you wouldn't be able to keep up this pace at the same time.

"Oh god!"

Joy moans and moans as you fuck her. Harder and harder. Deeper and deeper. It's the perfect angle for your cock to penetrate her fully.

Joy's slick pussy is harder to resist than you thought. Soon, her juices make it too easy to slide inside of her. Her walls squeeze you too tight. Her eyes beg too much. Her moans are too loud. Her thighs feel too good in your hands.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Fill me up! Dump your load into your girlfriend's friend!"

You would laugh at her for not knowing what's actually going on, if she wouldn't be making you cum right now.

"Fuck Joy."

You hiss into her face as you shoot your load into her. Rope after rope of your cum paint her insides. You fill her to the brim with your seed.

"Yes, baby."

Joy sighs, the warmth of your cum overwhelming her.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Tommy tries not to stay too long because Mareep gets sad when she's lonely.

She can't tell him this - she's a sheep and all. But she shows it in the way she nuzzles her gentle head into Tommy's chest when he returns, as if she's trying to push out all those sharp and bunched up feelings that get stuck there. They're not bad feelings though. Not good feelings either.

Just feelings. A lot of fucking feelings.

But Tommy likes visiting the cabin. Even back when, it always felt so far removed from everything else. So quiet, not always in the positive sense. He loved it and he hated it. That seems to sum up about everything he remembers from that time.

(He went in once, the first time he visited. Not anymore. Everything was covered in dust, hollow and empty, and Tommy couldn't breathe for reasons beyond the stifled air.)

Being there doesn't hurt the same.

Tommy still marvels at that. Yes, it still hurts and yes, it always will. But there's more than the hurt now. He remembers the laughter and the stupid jokes and the bench and Henry and man, does it feel as if he's aged a decade. He hasn't. He's young. And there's so much ahead of him.

Then the snow shifts behind him with the soft crunching of footsteps. He turns around, and a person Tommy has thought about pretty much every other day for the last eight months is standing against the treeline.

"Hullo," Technoblade says, as if they have seen each other yesterday. He looks a little less exhausted, and a little less jumpy than Tommy has ever seen him before. Tommy's hand curls around the handle of his sword and then relaxes.

"Hey," he says. Then he swallows. "I didn't know you still came around here."

"I don't," Techno says. "Just came to pick up some stuff I left behind."

"Yeah?"

Techno walks around him in a little arch, and in a way that keeps him facing Tommy at least from the side, never the back. Tommy hates that this is who they are now.

And then Techno scoffs lightly, kicking at some rocks Tommy had been piling into a tower once when he was deep in thought. "Bruh, you're not ruining my property value again, are you?"

Automatically, Tommy laughs. Bright and sudden, and sincere. "Wha- Fuck you, you just said you don't live here anymore."

"I could be on my landlord arc," Techno says dryly.

Tommy should leave it at that. The part deep inside him that still feels raw and scared - as if he's sixteen again and the ocean is endless before him - recoils at all of this. But Tommy knows that part of him can be wrong, sometimes, in how it reacts to things. In how it refuses to embrace change.

"What have you been doing?" he asks. Techno watches him for a moment, a little guarded. He shrugs.

"Farmin'," Techno answers after that small second of hesitation. "Hibernating. Just doing my own thing, away from everybody. I'm done being hounded by people." He brushes some hair from his face, longer now than when he was living on this server. Tommy doesn't think he has never seen Techno without fresh scars or bandaged knuckles. It suits him.

"Sounds nice," Tommy says. He thinks about his little cottage, and Tubbo's honey, and how he's been starting to grow his own flowers.

"It is," Techno agrees.

Tommy leaves quickly after that. But when he returns two days later, there is a glint of round netherite hanging from one of the fence post. A compass with an emerald inlaid in the back, that points to a place very far away.

Tommy doesn't think he's quite ready to follow it. But someday he will be.

[bandgie]

Cats Galore | Ep. 3

MASTERLIST | Kink: Anal

🗝 The Other Neighbors downstairs hardly raise concern other than their weird fascinations with cats. You don't mind them playing with yours, but you're learning that things aren't as they seem.

4.6k words

warnings: MDNI18+, fem!reader, f!masturbation (brief), pussy play, fingering, 3some, anal, butt-play, PIV, no protection, cumming inside, creampie, finger sucking (m!), reader called kitty/slut, reader wears cat ears, minho is a bit of a mean dom, reader says she's gonna pee (doesn't), squirting, edging (brief), double penetration, boob sucking

notes: fuck, that's a lot of warnings, sorry. I was supposed to post this days ago but I was partying :( sorry, forgive me. hopefully the length makes up for it

“I almost fell down a well earlier, guys.”

The consistent clicking of their keyboard tells you they’re not listening. You’re staring out the kitchen window, watching the rain pour and the droplets race.

“Uh-huh.”

“I would have died.” Maybe that will catch their attention. Chan and Changbin have been nothing but busy-busy the moment they came home. Late. You had to mop the floors when their muddied shoes walked through the front.

“That’s nice.”

You wrinkle your nose, unsure if you should act upset or cordial. They’ve been home for hours, sitting at the tiny table typing away.

Editing to be exact. 

“So, how far are you in the album?”

“Very.” Chan takes off one side of his headphones. “I think we should be able to make the deadline if we stay up.” 

You try not to groan. Music is their everything. You get that. You’ve known that, but there are so many times you feel like you don’t even come second. If you bat your eyes prettily enough and cutely pout, they’d put it on hold. 

But then they wouldn’t get their work done. The stress they feel now would be nothing compared to scrambling last minute to put something together. 

And it would all be your fault because you don’t know how to stop being so clingy.

“That’s good.” You turn from the window and walk over to them, standing behind Changbin and looking at the DAW. You pretend you know what the different colors and lines mean, nodding and pecking his cheek encouragingly. “Looks good too.”

Changin’s already turning his head, pursing his lips so you could plant a kiss there instead, but Chan reaches over and flicks his forehead. “No. Babe, listen, we love you, but you’re distracting.”

“Distracting?”

“I mean, we won’t be able to do our work.” Chan is careful with his words. “Like, I bet Bin has a fucking boner from just you standing next to him.”

Changbin’s lips turn into an upside-down, sheepish smile, “Shut up.”

“Exactly. I promise you, at the end of the week, we’re all yours.” Chan smiles suddenly. His teeth look wolfish in the cutest way possible. “Was the first night not enough lovin’ for you?”

It was more than enough. You can feel Changbin buzzing with arousal just from the memory. It’s not often that your boys like to play rough, but when they do, they make sure to make it unforgettable.

Your dreamy button-boy helped significantly to make sure your lovin’ was sublime. 

“For now.” You shrug, but you grin knowingly. “I’ll leave you two alone then. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

Changbin purses his lips again when you lean down. This time, Chan doesn’t stop you two from kissing. It’s brief, but Changbin still hums with content in your mouth. Your lips disconnect with a gentle smack and you walk to the other side, doing the same to Chan.

“I’m serious. Go to bed at a reasonable time.” You narrow your eyes. “I don’t wanna deal with a grumpy Bin telling me Chan made him stay up all night.”

Chan presses another chaste kiss. “No promises.”

-

It’s when you want to sleep that it seems impossible. You want to get enough rest. The garden needs to be at least cleaned if you want it to blossom. But the only thing you can do in bed is toss and turn, replaying the events of the day until your mind wanders to Hyunjin.

There’s a small part of you that wants to dream about him again. Even if you have to see his buttons, it would be nothing compared to his cock dragging in your walls. 

He’s big. He has to be. You can remember how it felt against your cunt. The mere warmth from him had your clit throbbing, aching to feel his tip slide against you even if you had just finished in his mouth. 

And the kisses, his kisses. They felt so tender. So warm. You don’t think you’ll be able to recreate the sensation with your fingers, but you slide your hand down your panties anyway. But just when you make it past the dip, finger threading through your coarse hair, you hear the familiar sound. 

Squeak! Squeak!

Are you asleep already? Did so much time pass pretending that you actually did? You don’t know, and you don’t care to find out. The little mouse, just peeking through the crack of your door, is your only worry.

Seems like Hyunjin isn’t the one that didn’t get enough lovin’.

You fling the covers off and rush to the door. The mouse squeaks in panic, scurrying out and down the hallway to the stairs. You know it’s aiming for the little door. You don’t have to question the fact when it leaps over the steps and into the living room. 

Unlike the quiet mouse, your steps are loud, thudding down the stairs and tripping over the carpet. You regain your balance quickly, bumping into a wall and pushing off it for an extra boost into the dimly lit living room.

You don’t even see the mouse anymore, too consumed with prying your fingers through the crevasse and throwing it open. 

Like an old friend, the tunnel beams. It pulsates with life, with happiness, you think. The changing colors are like a beckoning finger that you listen to obediently. The passage feels exactly like it did the other night. Fuzzy, soft, warm, and everything right. 

The lights in the Other living room are just slightly different than last time. A little yellow, a little too pale. It hides the shadow of the couches that seem to glow with life, but you don’t dig too much into the aesthetic. You know there’s a note in the kitchen waiting for you.

This time, it’s not just a note on the table when you walk in, but a kitten headband next to it.

We’re downstairs.

We? You narrow your eyes and cock your head to the side. Who’s we? This isn’t Hyunjin’s handwriting. 

Another line of scribbles reads in a cuter, playful tone.

can’t wait to meet you! pleeasseee wear the kitty ears!!!!! (ㅅ •᷄ ₃•᷅ )

You’d laugh at the drawn emoticon if you weren’t confused. With one hand holding the letter and the other holding the headband, you think. 

Why are you dreaming of this? Who’s waiting for you? Why do they want you to wear a costume? 

It doesn’t matter how many times you ask yourself, those questions will never be answered. Not on this floor at least.

As beautiful as it is outside, you walk down the porch and turn right. There’s an opening with a small staircase leading down, the doorframe lit with pretty lights.

They flash inducingly; on and off in a way that makes it seem like the light is moving. 

They help with your jitters. You know that it won't be Hyunjin behind the door and sure as hell won’t be your boys. Still, you feel some exhilaration when you stop just a foot shy of the door.

It opens before you can knock a third time, revealing two men standing side-by-side. One has brown buttons for eyes, a beautiful complement to his freckled face and blonde hair. He smiles like it’s the easiest thing to do now that you’re here. His lips curve perfectly against his teeth, white and smooth. 

The other’s buttons are a deep burgundy, almost matching his chestnut hair. Only one side of his mouth quirks into a smile that’s closer to a grin. 

The blonde one shrieks with excitement. “Ah! You’re here! Minho, she’s here! Like, here here.”

You laugh, “Yeah. Here here. In the flesh.”

He lights up even more. The flashing bulbs on the doorframe dance on his face. “Yes! Come in. Hyunjin raved about you all day yesterday.” The blonde man opens the door wide enough for you to see the living room blocked by a curtain that he pushes back. It’s massive, adorned with cat sculptures and paintings. Even the couch has a fuzz that seems to resemble fur.

Minho chuckles. “Gosh. He wouldn’t shut up. He falls in love way too easily.”

Their conversation doesn’t click until you’re inside the apartment. You’re too busy deciding to be weirded out or impressed by the amount of cats perched on the wall.

Wait. Did Hyunjin tell them…

“What did he say about me?” You try to sound nonchalant, fingers grazing the soft sofa.

Minho flops on the other side of the couch. “Oh, nothing. Just that he wants to ask for your hand in marriage.” He snickers at his own joke, ignoring the disapproving shake of his friend’s head. 

“All good things, I promise.” The blonde man sits on the opposite side, patting the empty slot between them.

You sit gingerly, far enough that your thighs aren’t touching, but you can feel their bodies radiating warmth. You swear Minho eyes the way your thighs expand when you sit, tearing his buttons away to look at the kitten ears on your head.

“Very good things. He showed us some paintings he finished too, but he said it wasn’t enough to capture your beauty.” Minho smiles at your blush. “I should tell him to paint this too. The cat ears are a good touch.”

“Minho!”

“Felix!” Minho mimics his roommate's tone. “Am I doing something bad?” He looks at you, buttons gleaming with playfulness. “Am I?”

You shake your head. “N-no.”

The way his teeth are revealed is almost predatory. Almost as though he likes the hint of fear in your eyes. “Good. See? Hyunjin said you were a good girl too.” His hands reach behind your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The tips of his fingers barely graze you, but your skin feels on fire.

You know why you’re dreaming of them. Why you keep going through the tunnel. They must know too, but Minho plays with the ears on your head fondly. 

“I can tell you are. Wearing exactly what we asked you to.” He tilts his head. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Felix and I have quite the…liking towards cats.”

You turn to the side, facing the differently posed statutes along the wall. “You don’t say.”

Minho giggles. “With you wearing the ears, well, let’s just say we’re seeing if you’d be a good addition to our collection.”

Felix chuckles beside you, scooting just enough so his leg rubs against yours. 

There’s so much you should be worried about. It’s all too familiar with how interesting Hyunjin was. To the underlying tones, the secretive glances they give each other, to the fact that they have you trapped between them. 

But when one of Felix’s hands goes to your inner thigh and Minho’s goes to your other, your heart drums for a different reason.

“I think we should look at your kitty down here to make sure you’ll fit in perfectly.” Felix’s voice is unbelievably smooth in your ear. His tone sends shivers down your spine and you visibly shake. 

He grins like he knows. “Would that be okay?”

You nod, but your ‘yes’ sounds more like a whimper than an actual voice. It’s easy for them to spread your legs, panties on display being that you don’t sleep with anything more than a shirt and underwear. They knead the softness of your inner thighs, cooing and laughing like they’ve got you right where they want you.

“This kitty listens so well.” Minho’s lips brush against your ear. He’s the first one to move towards your cunt, fingers sliding underneath your panties to pull it to the side.

“Ooo,” his breath gives you goosebumps. “And it’s a pretty one too.”

Your pussy feels cold now that it’s exposed. Felix pulls on your thigh so your pussy spread just slightly. He groans, deep and low. He’s quick to spread his fingers into a ‘v’ shape around your lips. 

Minho’s thumb grazes your flesh. It’s such a light touch, barely there if you hadn’t been paying close attention. The sensation makes you jolt off the couch just slightly, choking on a gasp. 

“Sensitive little thing, huh?” Miho smiles against your ear. “Barely even touching you.” His index finger trails along your slit, soon finding your clit. 

“Bet if I touch you here, you’ll get wet real fast.”

Felix does well in keeping your cunt spread while Minho flicks the pad of his finger against you. It takes everything in you not to buck off the couch again. To stop your pussy from clenching every time Minho presses down on your nub.

But just like he said, you can feel your slick sliding down your ass. The wetness must soil the plush couch underneath, but the men don’t seem to mind in the slightest. Instead, you feel Felix’s fingers mingle in the mix.

His digits are so much different from Minho’s. They’re small and much rougher, but the different textures make you find purchase on their thighs and squeeze. 

Felix giggles. “You were right, hyung. She did get wet.”

Even if it weren’t for the obvious sounds resonating in the room, it would be your moans and whines that gave away your arousal. 

“Of course I was right. Hyunjin told me all about you.” The way he says it, like a threat, it should scare you. But his ominous tone makes your eyes roll and toes curl instead.

“Told me you tasted good. He almost came his pants when his tongue was on you.”

Minho stops flicking your clit to maneuver lower. His soft fingers slide until they catch your entrance, prodding and rubbing before dipping in. 

You gasp when he enters you. You didn’t realize how desperate your cunt was to clench on something until it was pulsing around his digit. Your hips begin to rock immediately, trying to find a rhythm with his little finger wiggling inside you.

“F-fuck.” You lean on Felix’s shoulder. “Please.”

Even with your squelching and pleading, Minho slides out. His sadistic smile stays on his lips when you whine, tears in your eyes from an orgasm being pulled away. 

He raises his hand high enough for you three to see it glisten in the light. 

The slick is almost mesmerizing, their buttons locked on the sight. Minho brings the hand closer and you open with your mouth without being told to. 

“I wanna know if he was telling the truth about this too.” But instead of putting his finger on your tongue, he reaches over to Felix. 

His pink tongue is already waiting, a subtle blush on his face that makes his freckles stick out. You watch as Minho’s finger plays with his tongue, running over the smoothness of his teeth and the plushness of his lips.

Felix moans at your taste, hollowing his cheeks to suck diligently. His fingers on your cunt slow in concentration, but you’re too aroused to notice.

A string of spit and slick connects from Felix’s tongue to Minho’s finger when he pulls away. It stretches and breaks easily, causing Felix to lick his chin where it landed. 

His buttons are full of hunger. “Yeah, Min. He was telling the truth.”

Minho laughs with delight. His wet finger goes back to your cunt, rubbing harshly and quickly. 

The instant pleasure makes you mewl, drooly lips finding Felix’s is a spit-covered kiss.  You can taste yourself on him. His soft mouth makes the tangy, metallic taste sweet, tongues diving into each other’s throats.

Felix pulls away enough to speak, but your kisses attack the corners of his lips and throat as he says, “Do you wanna taste, hyung?”

Minho hums in thought, the pads of his fingers swirling over your clit torturously. Your kisses on Felix’s skin slow. You can still taste your arousal on your tongue, Minho won’t have any problem getting a taste if he kisses you now. But when his fingers dip past your hole to your rim, you know what he wants instead.

“I think I wanna play with something else.” Minho uses his free hand to pull you by your hair gently, making you face him. “How many fingers can you fit in here, kitty?”

He presses, harder and harder until the tip of his finger makes its way inside your ass. Your mouth drops at the feeling, unsure if it feels good because it’s vulnerable or because he’s touching something you know is only used for special occasions.

Minho forces them deeper, making you squeal. “How many?”

“I-I don’t know! Three? F-four?” Changbin’s cock is roughly that wide. You recall having him and Chan trying to fit both their cock in the same hole, but there wasn’t enough lube to accommodate their size. 

He moans, soft and pretty. His finger turns into two, and rather than just the tip, you feel him sink to the knuckle. All the while Felix makes sure to play with your pussy to keep your juices flowing to your ass. 

“You dirty slut. You’re perfect.” Minho doesn’t hesitate in fucking his fingers into you. They curl and rub as if it was your pussy, but with how full you are, it feels like it is. 

“Shit. Good fucking ass. You’ve taken a cock in there, haven't you?”

You nod, unable to speak. Your throat can’t do anything but moan. The sounds get even louder when Minho’s fingers slip out, opting to stand and untie his sweats. You only get a second to see his bulge before it springs out, flushed and leaking. He takes his place in front of you, holding you by the knees. 

Minho has a full view of your gaping ass, of Felix’s relentless fingers playing with your clit. You’d be shy in any other scenario, but with the taste of you still lingering on your tongue and the need in your stomach, it’s nonexistent. 

You drool when you see him stroke himself, the throbbing of his cock intensifying. You spread your legs more and let him guide his tip to your ass, holding your breath for the breach.

“You’ve never taken a dick like mine, baby. I’ll make you cum in seconds.”

Felix snorts beside you, but it sounds muffled with the blood rushing to your ears. His cock is warm entering you. Everything feels so much intensified when your ass is used. You can feel every curve and every vein inside. 

His rounded head slips in with ease, especially when Felix smears your dripping arousal down to Minho’s remaining shaft and your rim.

You choke on a sob when his pelvis is flush against you.

“Fuck yes.” Minho bares throat. His head falls back, red neck on display. “Knew you’d take it all.” Even with no eyes, his buttons seem crazed. That burgundy color turning redder by the second.

His pace is slow, still adjusting to how your walls squeeze unbelievably tight and warm. It’s easy to confuse the slick from your pussy coming from your ass instead, but it's hard not to ooze arousal with Felix rubbing you.

Your clit feels on fire. Even with nothing in your cunt, it feels like you’re stuffed beyond full. It’s puffy, swollen, and wet. Felix doesn’t stop rubbing for a second even when you let out a pleasurable scream when Minho picks up his pace.

“Oh my god.” You’re staring at the mess between your legs. “Ohmygod, ohmygod. Fuck! I’m gonna pee. Waitwaitwait.” 

You know it’s not piss, but it’s been so long since you squirted that you nearly forgot you could. The warmth in your stomach builds too fast, too overwhelming. Tipping over the edge never felt so close, yet so far. There’s nothing for your pussy to clench on. Felix’s fingers are moving too fast for your clit to throb and Minho’s cock is bruising into you at a pace that isn’t slow or quick enough.

You forgot how dreadfully good it feels to never come down from your high. To be stuck at the peak because they simply don’t care.

Chan and Changbin always made sure to have you cum over and over, but having your body spam from the lack thereof is a feeling you never want to forget again.

“Yeah?” Minho laughs. “Looks like kitty needs a little more training, huh, Felix?”

Felix yanks your shirt up, exposing your tits and making you bite the material. Saliva immediately begins to pool in the cotton, but then men are too distracted by your tits to care. 

Felix leans into your chest. “Try holding it in, yeah? Minho can be stern when he wants to be.” 

You feel his teeth clamp down on your nipple. How they think you can stop yourself from soiling the couch is laughable. Felix tugs on the peak of your breast and rubs your clit all while Minho pistons his cock in and out of your ass. 

You squirt within seconds. 

Since nothing is blocking your cunt, your arousal flows out freely. Felix’s digits only make your juices fly farther, splattering on Minho’s chest and your thighs. 

There’s a moment where you’re gasping so hard your head spins. All you can hear are the moans tumbling from your stuffed mouth and Minho’s psychotic laughter. Felix tries to help the fountain between your legs by slowing down, but his hyung doesn’t slow his thrusts at all.

“Bad fucking kitty! Now I have to cum in your ass.” His buttons lock on Felix’s. “Did I tell you to stop?”

The tiny fingers resume their harsh pace, but Felix pouts. “You’re gonna tire her out. My cock hurts too, ya know?”

Sanity glints in Minho’s buttons. It’s as if your ass was too good, making him completely forget about his roommates' needs.

He pulls out without hesitation. You groan when it slips from you, feeling like you can finally breathe. 

“Lixie. I’m such a bad hyung.” It’s the first time his voice is soft. Caring. “You want her ass?”

Felix’s fingers go to your hole, your cunt. You let out a drawled moan when his fingers wiggle their way inside. It feels so good to have your pussy filled right after squirting.

“I just want her pussy. You can still have her ass. I know that’s your favorite.”

The roommates share a laugh, talking about you like you’re nothing but a toy. All you can do is groan when they change your position. Your back aches from your legs being in the air for so long, but the pain subsides when they plant you on all fours on the couch, hovering over Felix with Minho behind you.

Felix’s cock is a little thing, so similar to Changbin’s. They don’t share the same thickness in the slightest, but you’re thankful for Felix’s size when they enter you at the same time.

Had he been any bigger, you don’t doubt that you would’ve split. The stretch is porno worthy. Your walls open easily for both of them, their cocks molding their shape inside you. Their pace is so different. Felix is getting used to the feel of your cunt for the first time whereas Minho is chasing his high. 

The thrusts from behind make you bounce on Felix’s dick. Your breasts jiggle in his face so tempting that it doesn’t take long for him to pop a nipple in his mouth.

Like before, his bites and licks encourage you to rock between them. 

Minho has a firm grip on your ass, spreading your cheeks to see his cock bury itself between them. “Your ass is so wet. Feels just like a pussy.” He stills, hips flush against you. He groans when you whimper. “Squeezes just like one too.”

This time, you know you’ll be able to cum properly. The orgasm builds in your stomach until it coils, clenching on the two cocks in warning. 

“Sh-shit.” Felix curses with your breast in his mouth. “I’mma cum already.”

“Mhm.” He grunts, fucking you earnestly. “Good set of holes.”

You choose to take that as a compliment. Your walls are gripping them so tight that it feels as though they’re fucking you in the same place. But when your chest burns and the warmth in your belly finally uncoils, you know it’s Felix’s cock you cum on.

Even though your body freezes to ooze with cream, Minho doesn’t stop. Not even as Felix howls with pleasure or you plead with overstimulation, his cock bullies into your ass until you flood with their seed.

You can’t tell whose cum is filling from where. It feels everywhere, outside and inside. You collapse on Felix’s chest, panting with exhaustion. Minho thrusts a few more times for good measure before pulling out, moaning in the process. 

Felix follows soon after, his softening cock between your and his pelvis’. The warm strings of cum pour from your holes and you feel Minho play with it. Whether or not he shoves it back into your gaping ass or cunt, you can’t tell. 

It all feels the same.

Ding. Ding.

You three jump at the sound of the doorbell. Felix and Minho share a confused look, the older grabbing his sweats and putting his legs through the pant holes. It seems that their visitor requires both of them, being that Felix slips from under you and pecks your forehead.

You suppose this is your cue to wake up.

But as they tuck their cocks away and close the curtains to the living room, you don’t wake.

Weird. 

You’re about to begin counting sheep when something black moves in the corner of your eye. It takes a few seconds for your hazy vision to focus on a cat, the only one moving sly and quickly. 

Unlike the other sculpted cats with buttons for eyes on the walls, this one has blue, normal eyes. Just like the one from the woods. 

“Hmm,” your voice is groggy. “Hannie’s got a cat like you back at home. You must be the Other cat.”

That cat narrows its eyes at you, nose up turning into a sneer. “No. I’m not the other anything. I’m me.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Your eyelids flutter in shock, but your mind is so fuzzy that you can’t be too surprised.

You’re still sleeping after all.

“I see you don’t have buttons for eyes, but if you’re the real cat, how can you speak?”

“Too many questions and not enough time,” his whiskers twitch. “They won’t be distracted for long. They don’t like me very much.”

You snort, “I find that hard to believe. They said they like cats.”

“They like things that listen. They want a pet. And I’m hardly one to behave.”

Talking takes a lot of effort. You can feel your eyelids drooping and your limbs relaxing on the couch, but you manage to peek at the kitty. “I don’t think I’d mind being their little pet every now and then.”

The cat does not laugh with you. Instead, he leaps from the shelves on the wall and quietly lands on the couch, mere inches from your tired face. 

“You probably think this world is a dream come true. But you’re wrong. If you come back here again, we won’t let you leave.”

We. A spark of anxiety lights in your chest. His piercing eyes, the only ones here besides yours, are full of truth. Something about his gaze and mannerisms screams human. “Are you really a cat?”

“I am as much as a cat as this is a dream.” His tail tickles your nose just enough to keep you awake for a few seconds. “Listen to me and do not go through the door again. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave the Pink Palace and not look back.”

Like any normal cat, he glares at you one last time. “Or don’t. Afterall, I’m just a stupid cat. Aren’t I?”

[patscorner]

CHAPTER ONE: BUY-IN

pairings: paige x oc

contains: pining, angst

word count: 2,575

a/n: okay, one chapter in. let me know what you guys think, my inbox is open. also let me know what you might like to see, the outline isn't set in stone. school has started so it might be a bit before the next chapter, but it's coming. enjoy!

My palms sweat as I dial the familiar number, one I’d memorized by heart. It’d been far too long since I’d called her, and I don’t really have a reason, so the bullshit ‘I’ve been busy’ excuse will just have to do.

=======================

JUNE 2023

“Hello?”

I clear my throat in an attempt to swallow the lump that magically appeared. “H-Hey, Azzi, uh-it’s CJ.”

“Who?” My heart dropped to my shoes as my brain scrambled to pick up the pieces of one word.

“I-uh..”

Azzi chuckles. “I’m just messing with you. What’d you need?” I let out a breath as I rub my head.

“Oh my god, I actually hate you, holy shit.” I laugh.

“Apparently, since it’s been, what, like three months since we’ve talked.” I could practically hear the eye roll.

It’s really not fair for me to ignore Azzi because, really, she hadn’t done anything but be my best friend.

Our best friend.

And maybe that our was the problem. Maybe that combination, the unity of the word, and everything behind it was a mistake. Maybe, letting her etch herself into the scrolls of my heart, so much so that the ink bled together. Maybe the missed cue of when mine became hers, and hers became ours, was poor oversight.

Maybe letting Azzi become collateral damage was where me and her went wrong.

I laugh it off, ignoring the pang it sends to my chest.

“Yeah, well, I have to mentally prepare myself to lose brain cells. Can’t let it fuck up my game.” I respond, earning a laugh from the brown-haired girl. There’s nothing like the nostalgia a sound can bring you. The memories and feelings, all hidden behind a single noise.

After she gathers herself, she sighs. “So what’s up?”

And suddenly, I remember why I’d called.

“Yeah, uh, there’s something I kinda wanted to talk to you about, before you hear it somewhere else..” I say, picking at my earlobe nervously.

“Ooookay… Is everything okay..?” her voice relaying softer through the phone.

I nod. “Yeah, it’s nothing bad. Or, at least, I don’t think..” I fall silent for a moment. This couldn’t be as bad as I’m making it seem, right? Right?

“Either way, I’d just rather talk about it in person.”

Azzi hums. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Where do you want to meet?” I consider my options. I’m only in Minnesota to visit my family for about a week, and it’d take another day to get to Virginia… I would be back in time to move into my dorm. It’s inconvenient but doable.

“I could drive up to you in like a week, I’ll just meet you at your house.” I mutter thoughtfully.

“Wait, are you in Texas or Minnesota?”

“I’m about an hour out from Minny.” I answer, slightly confused.

“Oh, I’m here with Paige and the boys. We’re actually headed to the fair soon. You could meet up with us if you wanted.”

“Shit…uh, I didn’t think about them...” I mumble.

That’s a lie. Truthfully, every time I think of home, memories of the blonde flood my mind instantly. But then I’m reminded of what she’d done. How she ripped herself out of my chest like velcro, instead of carefully detangling herself, ridding herself off all strings attached. All for someone else.

For someone who used to be mine.

“Hello..? You still there?”

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Uh, th-yeah, that’s fine.” I sigh, quickly trying to recover.

Azzi sighs through the phone. “Look, I still don’t know what happened between you two, so if you don’t want to come-” she amends.

“No! No, okay, sorry. I- just gotta change my clothes…” I say, biting my lip as I lie through my teeth. “I’ll just meet you guys there?”

I could practically hear Azzi smile. “That sounds good, just call me when you get there.”

After we say our goodbyes, I hang up. I groan as I throw my head back.

I’m always up to a challenge, but the thought of going and having to function around her, after all she’s said and done; after she’s ruined us before there even was an us, that might be more difficult than I’d thought.

It’s not like I have a choice, though. I’m gonna have to learn how to be around her every day, especially when the season starts.

_________

“Drew, bro, if you spray me with that shit one more time, I swear to god, I will beat your ass.” I glared at him as he hid behind Jose, who put his hands up in surrender. I should not have bought him that water gun.

I rolled my eyes as I turned back to Azzi, who kept looking around, then back at her phone, repeating the process. I kicked her in her shin. “Ow! Paige, what the fuck?” Azzi complains, rubbing her leg. “Who are you looking for?” I say, glancing around.

She looks back down at her phone. “Nobody. Just people watching.” I scoff. “Bullshit, are we being spied on, or what?” She shakes her head, looking up around once more. “Okay, bro, what’s going on? Who’s ass do I have to beat?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at me. “You couldn’t beat Ohio, let alone anyone else.”

I sit back in shock, putting my hand on my heart as I feign offense. “Okay, their defense was so unexpected. You can’t even put that on me.” She shrugged, looking back at her phone and standing up. “Where-”

“Bathroom.” she mutters. I watch as she practically sprints away. If only she did that shit in practice. I shake my head.

I open my phone and begin mindlessly scrolling through instagram, ignoring the thousands of times I’ve been tagged in pictures that I’d taken with fans today. Suddenly, I freeze.

It’s a post by the official UConn women’s basketball team. It’s a picture of CJ in her Texas jersey, the number 43 on the front. Her hair is in her signature bun, hair slicked back carefully, as she drives towards the basket. The caption reads “Welcome CJ West!”

What the fuck?

I’m in such a state of shock that when Azzi comes back, I don’t notice the figure next to her. I glance up at her, then back at my phone. “Yo, Azzi, have you seen this?” I look up at her again, and this time, I let my eyes flick to the person next to her.

CJ.

Forgetting what I’d just seen, my jaw drops as I take her in. She’s just as beautiful, if not more, as she was the last time I’d seen her. She’s wearing a basic casual outfit; a plain white crop top, paired with blue jeans, and gold jewelry that always makes her hazel eyes seem brighter. Or maybe that’s just how they look naturally.

“Oh, shit.” I whisper, clearly in awe. She rolls her eyes.

Fuck.

“Hello to you, too, Paige.” Double fuck.

That fucking voice.

I clear my throat, trying to recover. “Hey, CJ.” I breathe. The lighthearted air is swallowed by suffocating tension as I make eye contact with a stranger.

“Oooookay…” Azzi says, clearing her throat. “This is about as awkward as I’d thought it’s be…” she mutters. CJ looks at her. “I told you.”

I look between them. “What’s going on?”

Azzi looked at CJ expectantly, gesturing to her to speak. CJ rolled her eyes and huffed. “I-uh, I have news.” CJ glanced between Azzi and I. She cleared her throat as she picked at her earlobe, a habit she’d picked up when she was younger. I’d always hold her hand to stop her, and I want to do that more than anything right now. I think I’ve lost that right, though.

“I’m transferring to UConn.”

My eyes flick to Azzi’s who’s jaw drops. “Really? How-Why?”

CJ shrugs, trying feign carelessness. “Better environment, Texas heat ain’ my thing.” To the normal eye, CJ’s behavior could be seen as normal. But to me? I see the way her eyelids flutter, the hesitation behind her pretty lips, and the way her eyebrows raise just slightly. She’s a good liar.

Just not good enough.

I don’t say anything, though, not when she gets dragged away by Drew and Jose, not when Drew practically begs her to stay and hang out with us, and certainly not when she’s sat in front of me on the ride Jon chooses. I don’t say anything when the boys get swept away, and it’s just the three of us, like it always used to be.

It’s only when Azzi goes to the bathroom, leaving us alone for the first time in years that I say anything. “Try not to kill each other, please.” She orders as she scurries to the restroom.

It’s silent for a moment, and I can almost see the relief on her face when she thinks I’ll hold my tongue.

Unfortunately, I’m nobody’s peace.

“How long are you here for?” I ask, stuffing my hands into my black cargo pants. She looks up at me. “Uh-just for the week, gotta move outta my dorm, and it’s a long drive, so.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You driving on your own?”

CJ nods. “Yeah, I’ll just sleep in my car or something.” I shake my head. “No fucking way, bro, you serious? That’s like a twenty hour drive.”

She crosses her arms. “So? That’s how I got here.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not goin’ on your own.” I say. Truthfully, I knew she’d be fine on her own, but something about her driving back to Texas, just to go back to Connecticut, doesn’t sit well with me. I’m only concerned for her safety. Or at least that’s what I decide to tell myself.

She scoffs. “What, you’re gonna come with me?”

“I could, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s the last thing I want.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not. Didn’t even wanna see you today.”

I turned to her. “Seriously, dude?” She looks at me. “Yes, seriously.”

I roll my eyes. I know I hurt her. I know I fucked up. But that was three years ago. We were kids. I was eighteen. I can legally drink now. It’s been three years. How can someone be upset for that long? “You gotta get over it one day.” I say before thinking about it.

I regret it when I see a flash of hurt on her face. “Get over it? That’s easy for you to say, Paige.” she spits out harshly.

Ouch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, even though I know exactly what she meant. “Exactly what it sounds like. You get over shit quickly.” She shrugs. Her nonchalant tone pisses me off more than the words. I take a step towards her. “I didn’t ‘get over’ anything. There was nothing to ‘get over’. You were just jealous-”

“Jealous?” She interrupts incredulously. “Paige, you stuck your tongue down her throat!”

“And that pissed you off. Hence, jealousy.” I shrug.

“You were my best friend! It’s not fucking jealousy, it’s betrayal!” She practically yells, taking a step closer, our toes almost touching.

“I didn’t betray anybody! I was drunk! She was drunk! And I apologized afterward!” I say, trying to ignore the way her scent invades my senses.

She laughs dryly, taking a step back. “Right, you’re right. Yeah, an apology fixes it all.” I blink. “Really?”

CJ stares at me. “You’re a fucking idiot.” she says, and the only emotion I can pick up is anger. “I know.” I whisper.

Just then Azzi comes out of the bathroom, looking between us. “Everything okay?”

“Yep.” We say at the same time, and Azzi raises her eyebrows. “Aaaalrighty then… Can we find the boys, I’m ready to go.”

I nod and begin to walk behind Azzi, but I don’t miss the way CJ looks at me. I’m no expert, but if I know one thing, it’s the gaze of someone who’s been heartbroken.

I know because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it every time I’ve looked in the mirror for the past three years.

__________

“There’s no way you’re driving to Texas by yourself.” Azzi gapes from the corner seat of the booth. Jose convinced Paige to drive us to some random diner. She’s so easy.

I roll my eyes as I take a sip of my sprite. “Bro, you sound like Paige.” I grumble.

“The fact that I’m agreeing with her should tell you how fucking stupid you sound.” she said. I look at her in shock as Paige throws her head back, cackling.

Fuck.

That stupid fucking laugh paired with that stupid fucking smile makes it so fucking hard to be mad at her. Maybe I should let it go. It has been three years…

No.

Instead of entertaining the thoughts, I opt for kicking her shin instead. “What do you think that says about you, dumbass.” She immediately shuts up, and I roll my eyes as Jon almost spits out his Dr. Pepper.

“I’ll have you know I was AP player of the year.” She defends, eyebrows furrowed. I raise my eyebrows unimpressed. “Still holding onto that, huh?”

Azzi laughs, and Paige shoots her a look. “Can we get back on task, please?” That seems to direct all the attention back to me. “Driving to Texas? All on your own?” Paige says.

“Yes. Did y’all forget how I got here? I didn’t fucking speedwalk.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna go to Texas, spend, what, two full days staying up late and packing up three years of your life, and then driving the… twenty-nine, thirty, hour trip to Connecticut?” Azzi reasons.

I blink. “Well, when you put it like that..” I mutter.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Dude, just let us come with you. We can drive you there, so your car isn’t sitting in the middle of nowhere-”

“Isn’t your car in Storrs?”

“And we can switch drivers. Stay at a hotel halfway there, and then drive the rest of the way the day after.” She finishes, ignoring my comment. Before I can answer, the waiter comes with our food.

As he sets the plates down, I look at Paige, just taking her in. She’s wearing a plain black hoodie, with some red, white, and blue shorts on. It’s not much, but she could be wearing a trashbag and still be the hottest motherfucker around. It’s almost disgusting how effortlessly gorgeous she is.

I wouldn’t mind having someone to help me get to Connecticut. It’s a long drive, and it should be an easy yes. The truth is, when she looks like that, and acts like this, and talks the way she does… I don’t know how I’m going to get through the season, let alone a road trip.

I watch her lips as she says a thank you to the waiter, quickly averting my eyes when she looks at me. When the waiter leaves, I look back up and roll my eyes at her poor attempt to hide her smirk. As much as I wanted to wipe the smirk off her face, driving alone to Texas sounded dreadful. Plus, Paige has an okay music taste. Might not be that bad.

“Fine. You guys can come with me to Texas.”

Azzi smiles, clearly satisfied. Paige grins like a madman, clapping her hands. “This is going to be fun.”

I roll my eyes for the upteenth time tonight.

What the fuck did I just get myself into?

=======================

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerrss @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris-deactivated20240 @cosmopretty @hellokittyfeenie @averagelobotomyenjoyer @elliewilliamsthang @chelisbae @angelscovee @st4rrzynight @cherryswisherz

[comet-forgot-you]

yo hear me out, so it started with R shouting "You're crazy Amber?!!" cus she found amber is ghostface and amber reply with "wel don't you think you shouldn't have let in a murderer inside your house" and they starred each other off and just have a makeout session + passionately fuck?

thankyou.

smut. 18+ pls.

do not repost for any reason.

you opening the door in nothing but a t shirt and underwear, recognizing the frantic knocks from amber. she was dressed in her black robe, a cut on her arm, bruises littered over her body.

you didnt even think to question it, your girlfriend was injured and that was all you were worried about, the strangeness of the situation not hitting you until you were done cleaning her up, wrapping her arm up.

“what the hell happened?” you asked, finally taking in her clothing. “what the hell are you wearing? is that a fucking knife? amber what the hell are you doing?” your never ending questions not allowing her answer. then it hits you, the robe, the knife, the blood, the recent murders.

your girlfriend was ghostface.

“you’re fucking ghostface? you’re the one thats been killing everyone? amber what the fuck!”

she grabs your shoulders, its startling and enough for you to shut up for two seconds. “calm down.”

“calm down? amber you’re killing people! my girlfriend is a fucking murdered and you want me to calm down? amber, you’re fucking crazy!”

she pauses for a moment.m, her eyes narrowing. “im crazy? you’re the one that let a killer into your house.” your eyes widened, fear washing over you for a brief moment. “you think im just randomly killing these people? its for you, its all for you. everyone of them is for you.”

shes fucking crazy.

amber had always joked about how she would kill for you. at least you thought it was a joke, now you weren’t so sure. it scared you, just a little bit.

but it was hot.

your eyes meet hers as she sets her knife down on your countertop. theres still blood on it, streaks of dried blood coating the blade. your lips are on hers before you know it. its hot, her tongue dancing with your own. she turns the two of you around, trapping you between her body and the counter. she reaches behind you, your lips never leaving each other as she pushes the knife away from you.

she taps your thighs and helps you onto the counter, her hands unable to keep still on your body. she kneads and pulls against you, forcing whines to fall from your lips. her fingers finally meet your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot that appeared on you underwear. she pulls the fabric to the side, far to eager to have you right now than to take the time to pull them off of you.

her fingers run through your folds before sinking into your cunt, curling them slightly. you pull away from her lips, starting to feel lightheaded at the lack of oxygen and the pleasure. your hot, heavy breaths mixed with each other, both of you so needy for the other.

“all for me?” you whisper the question out and amber nods. your walls squeeze at fingers at the confirmation, everything she’s done has been for you, and it was attractive in its own way. it doesnt go unnoticed by amber, a smirk creeping onto her lips.

“you little freak. do you get off on the fact that im killing for you? hmm?” you walls squeeze around her fingers again, giving amber the confirmation she needed. her lips trail down your jaw, using her free hand to tilt your head up slightly, allowing her more access to your neck.

“ambs,” you suck in a breath as her teeth scrape your neck. she presses a gentle kiss to the skin.

“hmm?”

shes sucking a deep mark, her fingers not to stopping their movements inside of your cunt. you let out a shaky moan, already so close, “please.” her thumb starts to rub your clit in tight circles, the added pleasure bringing you closer to your high.

you cant control your moans, everything about amber was just driving you crazy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “im not stopping you, hun.”

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Breaking Their Trust

Requested: Hello, I hope you're doing good :> could I request something for the boys with a reader who accidentally break their trust ? (I'm in the mood for some angst 💀) Take your time, and don't forget to rest ! - @stinkysam

Requested: please write preference for the boys + homelander reaction to your betrayal Thank you 💓 - anon

A/N: I hope you don't mind my loves, I combined the requests just because the posts would be really similar :) I live for angst!!!! Thank you for requesting! I really hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Butcher was kind of expecting it. After all he's done to the group, turning your back on him wasn't such a huge surprise. He's been an ass lately. Selfish and erratic and stubborn and generally unkind. Going against him was your way of showing him his behavior was unacceptable. He can't blame you. He knows what he's been like, he knows he's basically unrecognizable, but he has a good reason for it. He's never felt the need to explain himself to others, especially not you, so even if he thinks it's all justified, you have no idea. He knows you have never agreed with him on anything, but this is just too far. Both of you have gone too far. Because you're going against Butcher, the rest of your friends are behind you in your decisions. They all agree with you. He's lost it. It's the right decision to betray him.

Hughie can't believe it. Butcher, he would have guessed. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last time that he's betrayed the group. But you? He wants to ask you why. He wants to know why you did what you did. There's gotta be a reason, a good reason, something to rationalize your decisions. No one else thinks so, though. No one else believes you had a reason. And they tell him this. No one wants to hear the excuses you have for why you did what you did. Only Hughie does. He doesn't care if it's silly or stupid or whatever. He just wants to know why. It kills him that you did this, but it hurts even more than you might not even have a reason. You might very just have done it because you did, because you felt like it.

Annie is speechless. You try so hard to explain yourself, why you went behind their backs for your own self interest, but she doesn't want to hear it. She doesn't want to see you. You beg her to listen, but she's done. She trusted you with everything and instead of returning the favor, you used it against her. She's sick. Sick of the betrayal, sick of you, sick of idiotic justifications you've come up with. She refuses to acknowledge you, ordering you to get out, to leave and never come back. You never meant to hurt her. You never meant to break her trust. You truly thought what you were doing was the right thing. She couldn't and wouldn't understand. You could explain until you were blue in the face, she wouldn't hear it. She was done with you.

M.M. isn't shocked. You've always done what you wanted when you wanted. You've always gone about your business without thinking about others, even those closest to you. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't hurt. He thought, he hoped, after everything you've gone through, you would at least come to him first before deciding to do something so crazy, something so selfish. You hurt your friends in the process, all of them reeling from your mistakes. He's one of them, though he tries not to show it. He has to be there for everyone else, he has to be safe and solid and dependable. It's up to him to show them that there is still someone they can trust, someone who will take care of them and look after them and be there no matter what. You fucked up. You burned bridges. You turned someone the kindest people against you for reasons he can't understand. It's up to him to clean up your mess.

Frenchie is in denial. You would never do anything like this. You would never turn your back on them, on him, no matter the reason. But you did! Everyone is trying to tell him, to get it through to him, to make him see that this version of you in his head no longer exists. He's more than hurt. Butcher would have done this, everyone was basically expecting it at this point, but not you. Never you. Frenchie begs you to explain. There's gotta be a good reason, right? There's gotta be something that made you turn on everyone you loved and cared for. It crushes him that you don't. Your justification is flimsy at best. You did it out of your own self interest. What could be more selfish than that? He refuses to believe it, coming up with fantastical reasons as to why you betrayed them. He could imagine all he wanted, it didn't help at all. You still did what you did.

Kimiko shuts down. After everything you've gone through, together and separately, she truly thought the bond and trust you had would never break. That it would last forever. You were in this together, you promised. And yet, you did this. She doesn't want to believe it. She doesn't want it to be true. When you try to talk to her, to explain yourself, she shuts you out. She shuts everyone out. If she can't depend on you, trust you, the most important person in her life, then is there anyone she can rely on? She comes to the conclusion that no one is safe. No one is worth trusting. She goes back to her old ways, blocking everyone out. The Boys aren't sure what to do, how to help. You were the one with all the answers and now you're gone. Shut out.

Bonus! Homelander thinks you're dead to him. If you don't disappear quick enough, you will be. He was convinced Webweaver was the mole. So, he got rid of him. Eliminated the problem. But the issues didn't stop after he died. It was after you left, quietly, silently, nonchalantly, that Sage pointed out the mole wasn't Webweaver or A-Train or even Ashley, it was you. All along it was you. Sage told him not to overreact, to think this through, that this was all part of her plan, but Homelander was outraged. He would hunt you down and kill you as slowly and painfully as possible. You didn't just hurt his feelings, you betrayed him. You disrespected your friendship, your relationship, your bond. You lied right to his face and he had no idea. Now you would pay. He didn't care what Sage had planned, he would make you realize just what you've done to the most powerful Supe in the world.

[magics-neptunes-things]

I've got McCabe

Hi guys :)

So this is a request from here (never been so quick in my life) and I've never write with Katie before so I hope it would suit you all!

Enjoy :)

TW : Love fight, swearing, Nothing else I think

______________________________________________________________

Being Katie McCabe’s girlfriend is something you cherish in everyday life. Everyone knows her reputation on the football fields, and you will never deny the truth of this, but Katie obviously has good sides to tip the scales and drive you crazy about her.

Your little bickering comes mainly from her Irish origins of which she is very proud, while you are just as proud from your Scottish origins. You certainly don’t have a team as strong as England or even Ireland, but your talents have allowed you to be spotted by Arsenal for many years and this is where you still play today. Needless to say, where you met Katie.

For today, you don’t know exactly when your mutual teasing started. You have learned over time to respond to Katie when she starts teasing you, not wishing to leave her the last word every time.

The problem today is that neither of you seems to want to admit defeat. What started out as childish games is nicely being transformed into something else while a certain mutual annoyance is being felt on both sides.

Your teammates must have felt it, Leah grabbing Katie during the lunch break while you almost get kidnap by a Beth Mead apparently more than happy to show you pictures of her puppy. You can’t say that it didn’t work, you are literally a fan of this little cutie.

But after the lunch break, when the training started again, it only takes a little teasing from Katie to start again. And again, you don’t want to let it pass, there’s no reason why it’s always you who gives up, after all.

The limit is exceeded just at the end of the training, while Katie asks you to please go store her dumbbells with yours. Already having yours to carry and a ball in the other hand, you answer her that she only has to get up to do it herself. "Well, at least Ruesha would have done it for me." This one, it hurts.

You remain frozen a few seconds there before turning slowly in the direction of the Irish which seems to realize despite everything what she has just said. But Katie doesn’t add anything, just looking at you from the mattress she’s sitting on with wide eyes. "Fuck you, Katie" you mumble coldly before disappearing from the room. The idea of throwing the ball you hold in your hand on her head would have been tempting and you admit to having thought about it for a few moments. But you weren’t alone and it was out of the question for you to provoke a real scene with violence to the key. "Mate..." sighs Leah once you leave the room. "Wha' " grunts Katie without looking at the blonde. "That was a terrible comment" "Shut up" In truth, Katie knows very well that she has crossed the line and she is very uncomfortable. Hurting you is never her intention, she has always been very careful with her behavior with you, treating you like a princess on a daily basis. Except when she decides to test your limits like today. It never went that far though. Leah answers nothing, content to follow the brunette to the changing rooms to go shower and change. Katie frowns when she sees that you’re not there anymore and your stuff either. "She left. Alessia brings her home. And you’re definitely going to sleep on the couch tonight" Kyra informs her before going to take a shower. The information squeezes Katie’s heart, you live together, so it makes sense to travel together. But she particularly likes to see you in the role of HER passenger princess.

It’s with her mind elsewhere that Irish showers and changes, taking her time in seeking the best solution to fix things. However, it’s difficult for her to know what to do since she doesn’t know what treatment she will be entitled to once she arrives home.

Are you gonna yell at her? Ignore her? Are you even going to be there or will she be allowed a simple post-it on your fridge informing her that she just has to go to hell?

It’s not in a safe state that Katie gently open the door to your house. The living room is empty, but your sneakers are carefully placed on the shoe cabinet of the entrance, informing her of your presence at home. But you’re not in the part of the living room that she can see from where she is.

"Babe?"

Only silence answers her, which doesn’t particularly surprise her. You’re stubborn too and usually Katie liked that about you. But not today.

Sighing, Katie drops her bag at the entrance and walks a little further into the house. She finally finds yourself sitting at the kitchen table, apparently completely absorbed in your readings. Yes, because in addition to your training and games, you’ve been doing correspondence marketing studies. Just in case.

"Are you still angry?" Katie tries to get closer to you.

But you just answer her that a breath of the nose, without looking up from your book. If only she knew you couldn’t concentrate for more than ten seconds. You were really hurt by her remark, even if you think (hope) that she doesn’t think about it for a single second. What could be worse than being compared to her girlfriend’s ex by the principal concerned?

"Babe please, can we just…"

"Don’t fucking touch me McCabe!"

You jumped on your legs as she approached you, ready to put her hand on your arm. In your heart you obviously appreciated that she tries a reconciliation and that she tries to catch up, but it’s still too early for the moment. Your hands tremble with anger when you go to lock yourself in your room, slamming violently the door behind you.

********

"I don’t know mate, she seems really upset. She surname me!"

Katie walks around your backyard, whispering softly on the phone so you don’t hear her. She tried several times to knock on the door of your room but you never answered her, worse you even blocked the handle of the door so that she could not join you.

Leah, on the other end of the phone, has to admit that she is impressed by the strength of character with which you stand up to Katie. But Katie is still her friend and she obviously wants you to make up.

"At the same time, you compared her to your ex. Anyone would have taken it badly. I would have probably killed you."

"I know, Lee. But I can’t go back to the past, what do you want me to do?"

"Apologize?"

"She won’t listen to me, she won’t even let me in the same room as her."

"The good news is she didn’t strangle you" Leah comments with amusement.

"Not yet" answers Katie with a gloomy air.

"Let her calm down a little and in the meantime prepare an apology in good form"

"What do you mean?" asks Katie, mechanically looking up at your bedroom.

"Go get her some flowers, make her a candlelight dinner… what you know will please her."

"I have another idea" ended up answering Katie after a few seconds of reflection.

********

The night has fallen for a little while when almost timid blows are again thrown against the door of your bedroom. You sigh as you hear Katie’s voice rise from behind the door.

"I know you’re still very angry with me, but can you meet me at the livingroom please?"

You roll your eyes without answering, sitting on your side, back to the door. Now that the anger has dissipated, you realize that you were also hurt by the Irish comment. So you decide not to go. At least that was before you got a message on your phone.

Katie 🍀❤️ Baby please?

You let out a big sigh before you get out of bed. With your hands in yours (Katie’s) training pockets and your face frown, you finally leave your room. After moving the chair you had placed under the handle so that she could not enter.

When she hears your bedroom door open, Katie almost teleports to you.

"Can you close your eyes?"

"I’m not in the mood, Katie" you grumble in a low voice.

"Please" she whines.

You stare at her for a few seconds before sighing again and obeying. You let her take both hands to train you to the living room, stopping in the free passage left by the two sofas installed in the living room. Without letting go of your hands, Katie whispers

"You can open them"

You blink twice to regain clear vision and remain speechless in front of what was previously your living room. Katie installed cozy plaids and cushions on the sofa, she lit your fireplace and decorated the room with many Harry Potter goodies. You’re a fan of it, defending your house, Ravenclaw. Needless to say, the one you share your life with is from another house, which you confirmed when you forced her to take the test. Needless to say which one. (Slytherin)

On the coffee table Katie prepared bowls with several snacks and cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Everything looks like one of those photos that are on Instagram. Well, almost. Because in these photos, there’s not Katie McCabe looking at you with as much apprehension as if you were a bomb ready to explode.

"I’m sorry I was stupid like that and I hurt you. I didn’t think about it and you have no idea how much I blame myself. I should never have said that when I haven’t thought about my ex in forever and even less since we’ve been together. I mean, of course we see each other when we’re training on the national team, but that’s it. She has nothing to do with you. I’m so sorry, Baby, I swear."

Katie rambles a little bit and you get to see the nervousness behind her clumsy speech. And it makes you feel terribly tender. Realizing that she still has your hands in hers, Katie gently pulls on it to draw you a little closer to her.

"I’m not just angry. What you said is hurtful, too, Kat."

"I know" she whispers, dropping one of your hands and putting hers gently under your chin. "But I don’t mean a word of it. No one can match you."

Your gaze in her blue eyes is enough to convince you of her sincerity and despair at the idea that you may not forgive her. It’s that side of Katie that you fell in love with as well, that part that she shows almost nobody. Katie is a loyal and attentive friend, which people know as well. But she is also a tender woman who enjoys cuddling with her girlfriend. You.

"I love you so much" she adds after a few seconds, pressing her forehead against yours. "Please, forgive me."

"Okay" you end up answering softly.

Her smile is so great of joy and relief that you can’t help but smile back.

"But on condition that we watch the first film" you add, pointing to the television with a nod.

"Anything you want."

Katie hurries to make you settle into the couch, perhaps doing a little too much by hurrying to bring a stool so that you can put your feet on it. But you let her, amused by her behavior. She then runs to dim the light in the living room, hands you a cup of hot chocolate and a glass of water if « the chocolate is too chocolate ». She tenderly wraps you in a plaid, asking if you want a cushion and arranges the food bowls so that you have everything near you.

"Are you missing something?" Katie asks, looking closely around her.

"Yes" you answer with a smile.

"What?"

"You."

Bowing an eyebrow, you lift a corner of the blanket in which you are wrapped so that she comes to settle next to you. What she does smiling, even accepting that you shift to allow her too to put her feet on the stool with you. After making sure again that you didn’t miss anything, Katie launches the film and you gently lean your head on her shoulder when she puts her arm around yours.

Ten good minutes passed when you look up at Katie’s face, lit by the lights of the television.

"Babe?" you call her gently, making her look off the screen.

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

A soft smile is born on her face and you would swear that it will remain there until the end of the evening. Including when she leans over you to kiss you right now, then every other time during the movie.

Katie McCabe may be a fool, but she’s your fool.

________________________________________________

So… Katie McCabe is a Slytherin, what do you think? 😂

[amorremanet]

For Fandom confession ask game: I think jiang cheng loved Wei wuxian in a more than brotherly or platonic way but didn't have the emotional knowledge to recognize it and that's why it hurt him so bad when Wei wuxian defected from the jiang sect and later went off lan wangji because Wei wuxian was supposed to be his person and he left him behind

Y E A H

YEAH

And this isn't even me being amatonormative about it, because it doesn't even have to be romantic or sexual to be an intensity that is beyond what is typical of siblings or best friends or sworn confidantes. I posted once about how Jiang Cheng embodies Jo March's reaction to John Brooke asking to court Meg in Little Women:

“Of course not. It would be idiotic! I knew there was mischief brewing. I felt it, and now it’s worse than I imagined. I just wish I could marry Meg myself, and keep her safe in the family.“

IF ONLY HE COULD MARRY WEI WUXIAN HIMSELF AND KEEP HIM SAFE IN THE FAMILY!!

Of course, if you are interpreting this in a romantic/sexual context, there is SO MUCH to unpack there, especially re: his resentment towards Wangji, and it is outrageous to me that it's not one of the top Jiang Cheng ships.

[ladykailitha]

Steve's Rewind

Just an idea I had stewing in my brain, buckle up this is going to get angsty as fuck. Thanks to my discord for helping me with some of the fiddlier details.

Here we go.

The Harrington family were once a clan a powerful magic users, though their bloodline is diluted now they barely have the smallest spark of it left in their blood. It allows them to use the device left to them by their ancestor. Althenea’s Life Spool, or the Spool most of the time.

It allows the user to go back and do over one event at the cost of one year of their life. In addition they remember the previous timeline. It is handed to the eldest child on their 16th birthday.

Usually only members of the Harrington clan remember previous timelines, but when Steve meets El, he finds out that the experiments done to her and the other children make it so she can see the previous timelines, too.

She commends him for the two times he’s used it so far.

The first time was on Nov. 12th, 1983. The night he went to Jonathan’s to apologize about the camera. The first time, he ran. Their screams ringing in his ears as he flees. Only now all the Byers family is dead, along with Nancy and the Mind Flayer breaks through to the surface world, screaming like a banshee.

He doesn’t know what will happen if he runs back into that house, but he knows at least he’ll have tried.

And while it doesn’t work out perfect, he’s pretty satisfied with the results.

On Oct. 31st, 1984 he thinks about using it again, but doesn’t. He doesn’t know what event started the relationship with Nancy to go south. So he leaves it be and silently deals with the broken heart.

On July 5th, 1985. Steve learns that El can see the previous timelines too and asks him to rewind so Hopper lives. Steve tells her about the cost and she turns pale. He asks her if she still wants that and she shakes her head. No. That would not be fair.

Then on Mar. 29th, 1986, she comes to him again. This time it’s all of Hawkins that swings in the balance and he agrees. He was just waiting for her to return so that they could plan out what needed to be changed.

So they hatch out a plan: Give everyone an extra twenty minutes to get into place. Towels in the vents of the trailer. Time for Hopper et al to kill the demogorgon, time for Jason and his cronies to find the Creel House, come up empty and leave, time for El to get into a better place to protect Max. Steve stocks up on flares and torches to bring as much heat as possible to the Vecna fight.

They win, Eddie and Max escape unharmed, Vecna and Upside Down falls. Everything is good for awhile.

Eddie and Steve start dating and they’re really happy. Until Steve arrives to their favorite gay bar a little late because of work and finds Eddie in a corner with another guy and just leaves.

When Eddie stumbles home that night Steve tears into him and threatens to break up with him.

Only Eddie starts crying.

Like full on sobs and the truth comes out, that guy had roofied Eddie and was assaulting him.

Now Steve is devastated and cleans Eddie up, putting him to bed. Then he calls El. Tells her he’s going to rewind the events of that night. And at first she argues against using the device for something so trivial especially one that didn’t end in someone’s death. If he wouldn’t do it for Hopper, what’s so different about this moment.

He reminds her that Hopper is alive, that his being in the Russian prison camp is part of the reason they were able to defeat Vecna and she concedes. Asks again why this is worth a year of his life and he explains that it’s not about his relationship with Eddie. They talked and Eddie already forgave him and said that he would have done the same thing. It might take a bit, but they’ll be fine.

No, the reason Steve wants to do this is because Eddie has suffered so much. Because none of the other Party members got introduced to this shit by watching a nice girl who had done nothing wrong, twisted and torn apart before their eyes.

That the witch hunt and getting off the murder charges had put a dent in Eddie’s confidence. This would destroy it entirely.

This is about a person who deserves a boyfriend who would give up everything for him to show him how loved he is, even at the cost of one year of his life.

El eventually agrees.

Steve goes to the back of the closet and pulls it out. But Eddie finds him, tells him he overheard him talking to El and he won’t let Steve do that. He’s not worth a year of his life.

Steve kisses him gently and explains what it is and what it’s done. Sometimes things work out for the better, sometimes they don’t. But always, always, always the change is worth it to the user. It’s why after nearly five hundred years the Spool has not been used up, because the string is finite, it will run out one day. But each person that has been gifted it knows the change is always worth it.

Once his father rewound cheating on his mother. The demogorgon that killed Barb, killed her instead and the world ended. He hated having to go back rewind that moment, but he knew the consequences of that moment needed an empty house that day.

Eddie sighs in relief. The moment can be rewound. So he puts his trust in Steve. That his boyfriend whose family has had this device for literal centuries knows the cost better than anyone, understands what hes’ doing.

Steve rewinds the moment and they are stronger together for it.

Steve will use it only use it one more time, when the birth of their daughter kills Robin who was their surrogate. They wait a year and everything turns out fine the second time.

Then on Julie Barbara Munson’s 16th birthday, her papa gives her his most precious item. A small spool of red thread.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Fragments Pt. 3/3

Homelander / GN! Reader

Summary: Before he'd be able to meet you again, Homelander has a realization.

Warnings: None.

A/N: Let's be fr he would not fucking say that, but let's pretend he's self-aware. Not proofread and pretty messy.

“I care not for his sanity. I care for his happiness. I care for his soul. Let him be mad if mad is what he needs.” - Queen Charlotte (Bridgerton)

Homelander fit seamlessly into his old life - or rather role.

There wasn't any time to process what had happened, since a throughoutly investigation was quickly followed by bland boring routine again.

Vought almost immediately released a statement concerning Homelanders abscence, something about a secret mission that required him to be undercover. They're even planning to make a movie about this fake bullshit already, unbelievable.

The physical examination that followed was the worst part, at least if you asked him. He loathed hospitals for obvious reasons, their bright white enterior reminding him just a tad bit too much of the Bad Room. Yet in the end they were unable to find any residue of the drug, poison or whatever depowered him in his system.

And while yes, the threat of an unknown enemy having the basis to one day potentially render all supes human again sure was concerning - but the fact that the short time Homelander spent without his powers was the happiest he's ever been left a bitter aftertaste.

You on the other hand had been released after a brief interrogation and background-check. Even now they still worried you might leak top-secret information to the public, but they feared Homelander's fury even more - and he made it absolutely clear that anyone daring to lay just a finger on you would meet a terrifying end.

Both of you had never spoken a word about what else happened between you back in the arctic, but that was none of their business either way.

After all, you were no one.

Your whole existence was insignificant compared to his greatness, there's no way you could ever become a threat to him. Simply live your measly little life and stay out of his one...

...easier said than done when you've practically ingrained yourself into his heart, still consuming his every waking moment.

For the people at Vought somehow a quiet Homelander was even more unsettling than his usual, duplicitous benignity.

They are used to randomly fall victim to his whims, constantly being on edge around him. Basically anything could happen at any time, to anyone and without even so much as a warning.

But as of late...

"Homelander?" Maeve was the only one bold enough to wave in front of his face, making him break the reminiscing. "You there?"

"Hmm?" The man looked around, seeing all eyes on him - business as usual. Ashley was standing in front of the Seven, yet whatever she was babbling about went on deaf ears with her superior.

It was like this ever since his return, this nagging feeling as if he was only physically present. He heard people talk and go about their day but everything was so far away...most of the time he just dozed off into the distance, eyes staring right through until he lost focus of his surroundings.

One corner of his mouth begins to twitch, feeling even more irritated by those oppressing trifles than ever before. He takes a moment to collect himself, hands folded neatly on the table. "Do what you want, I couldn't care less" was his firm answer, even though he didn't know the question - or if he was even asked one. "Excuse me."

"The fuck is his deal lately?" A-Train dared adressing the elephant in the room, albeit still being in super-hearing range, pointing over his shoulder to the door their leader had just rushed out of.

The Deep shrugged, tension leaving his shoulders now that Homelander's overwhelming presence was gone. "Beats me. Let's just hope it stays this way for a while."

He would make a quick getaway, his firm, aggravated steps audible before the man itself came into one's field of view. Anyone who had the misfortune to run into him in this state lowered their heads in hope they wouldn't meet an untimely end just for him to let off some steam.

There's a stench of fear lingering in the air, in every corner of this damn building.

"Vermin" he clenched his jaw as he turned around the corner, slamming the door to his penthouse with so much force that the frame breaks. "Every single one of them."

Ordinary humans were so pathetic-fucking weak, and yet they dictated simply everything. It shouldn't be this way! They should worship the ground he walked - or floated - on, build monuments in his name, but instead what?!

The masses idolized him of course, but that fact came at the extend of his own dignity. He had to perform in order to put on this perfect disguise, always smile and say his lines like a damn puppet...with Vought pulling all of the strings.

Was that really the only thing he was good for? So many abilities, all this potential and yet there he was, doing nothing substantial.

Right now he had everything: The greatest power in the world, wealth he could never fully spent even if he tried and influence beyond one's imagination - and yet he felt as empty as never before.

What a fucking joke.

Employees at Vought knew about his true wicked nature, so he had to rely on fear to control them. It was all he ever knew and felt comfortable with, after all...

...until you came along and willingly chose him. You had peeked into a part of himself he swore to never let anyone too close to - and embraced it. Saw him at his lowest, hell, even got hurt in the process and chose to stay at his side nevertheless.

Even though you missed the whole picture among fragments of himself, he was sure you'd be the only one worthy to know his story.

What he had with you may have been make-believe, but still way realer than anything about his corrupted existence.

Was his heart really nothing but a bottomless pit that could never stop aching?

Homelander's suit had always been like a metaphorical armor - functioning against inconsensual touches of fans as well as sort of a disguise, so people would always only see the hero and never the broken shell of a man beneath it.

But now it felt as if the fabric was burning into his skin, eating away what's left of him. Feeling as if suffocating, he curses beneath heavy breaths as he tossed it away.

It wasn't even the same suit you had repaired for him back then - and right now he painfully regretted having Ashley get rid of it.

There was still the oversized shirt he had worn when he left you, though your scent was only faintly lingering now, even to his keen nose. Well hidden under his pillow to lull him to sleep, he now puts it on as he feverishly tried to imagine the sensation of your warm embrace encoating him like a safety west.

That night, he was woken by an eerie realistic dream. No nightmare for a change, no - and yet it was leaving him just as exasperated.

A memory, about that one time you had convinced him to travel to that small village near your ecological research station. Apparently a bunch of savages were holding a festival to celebrate the returning of daylight, and opposite to his expectations it was actually quite enjoyable - mostly thanks to your presence, of course.

He could still hear echoes of your laughter spinning in his head, goosebumps rising where you had touched him as you danced in the cold streets. Snowflakes were entangled in your hair, making it shimmer ever so slightly as you took his hands, trying to steady yourself on the ice. Your breath was visible as white mist, holding onto him for dear life.

Just when he had mustered up the courage to bend down to your height, maybe steal a kiss or two, even if it was only at the crown of your head, both of you lost balance and fell right on your asses.

Homelander heard his own boisterous laughter mixing with yours, remembered how absolutely flabbergasted he was when you suddenly tackle hugged and started kissing him senseless.

"Shit. Shit!"

"Yeah, sure is." Oh for fuck's sake, not this again. But the voices kept returning, it's not like he had a say in the matter of his own mental illness. He never really has a say in anything, not even regarding his own life. "What are you so upset about?"

Well, it's not like he'd be able to fall back asleep anytime soon either way, so he followed the sound of his own voice back to the great mirror across the room.

"You're new" he states the obvious, seeing a reflection that doesn't resemble his current state at all. The man in the mirror was unkempt, with a scruffy beard and greyed strands standing out from his blonde scalp...

...and yet he seemed as happy as Homelander could only hope to one day comprehend. "Did we really look this shitty back in the Arctic?"

"Well, there's not exactly a stylist in the middle of nowhere" his counterpart shrugged, smugly adding "And Y/N liked it."

Homelander exaggeratedly rolled with his eyes, but the verbal jab had hit his weak spot. "You're just a farce, a cheap excuse of me, the real deal!"

"Nope" his amnesic alter ego scoffed at the insult, his smile never faltering. "I'm everything you always wished to be! What you could still become" he adds, his remark yet another fatal blow to Homelander's fragile ego. "You've got all the means to find her, so what's holding you back?"

"Because this is beneath me!" he roars so loudly, it's good that his apartment is big enough that no one could eavesdrop. "Why the fuck would I miss playing house with some nobody?"

However John is not accepting this bullshit for an answer, waving a scolding index finger. "Nah-ah, the real reason. Say. It."

With more force than necessary, Homelander scatters the mirror - would be too easy if that'd make them shut up, though.

"You know we don't just disappear." Several copies of himself are now talking, a medley of misery from each shard, reopening gaping wounds that never had the chance to heal.

"You think Y/N was just nice out of basic human decency. You think the kiss and everything else only happened because of the isolation before you came to that doorstep."

"You're afraid you won't live up to the John Y/N met. The ideal version of yourself that doesn't exist."

"That Y/N will find out what a freak you really are and runs away scared and disgusted, just like they all do eventually."

"You'll get bored of this at some point. Why bother?"

"Y/N will break under the pressure of this burden. It'd be selfish to do this. You can't expect this from anybody."

"Maybe you're even afraid of her coming in harms way because you know exactly what you're capable of."

"You already managed to destroy her life even without being your true self, just imagine what could happen. Stay away, at least for Y/N's sake."

"This whole farce just weakened you, and will continue to do so. We should just get rid of-"

"Shut. Up!" Homelander warns the last one, menacingly calm. "Don't you dare implying I could ever hurt Y/N. I-I'd rather fly myself into the fucking sun!"

"Oh boo-hoo. Someone gives you breadcrumbs of affection and you wag your tail like a dog in heat" the more depraved materialization of himself mocks, "Fucking pathetic, as always. Did you forget that people only exist for our fickle amusement?!"

"Don't listen to them, John." The only shard still attached to the wall was what he'd like to believe is his good aspects. "Listen to me: This is the one and only chance to get what you've always craved for - a real, loving home. Try it, at least. Remember Y/N's words - you deserve happiness."

There was no use in trying to catch up with sleeping. In fact it took all of his patience to wait the few hours until sunrise to wait for this confrontation...

...not with you, however.

Of course Madelyn would come to work this early. Typical. But Homelander was already expecting her - not waiting in front of her door to avoid seeming desperate, but a safe distance away, his glare seeping through the walls.

As soon as she appeared at the tower, he let himself into her office like so many times before. She was pouring herself a cup of coffee, and at the sight of him adds some liquor to it. Hard to believe she was bothered because of something important. "This early? Seriously?"

"You know what's funny?" he didn't really acknowledge her question as he jumped onto the sofa, picking up a decorative snow globe to fidget with. "I thought the enemy had somehow deactivated my transponder...but a quick visit at the tech department later, I found out it worked just fine. This whole time."

Madelyn quirked a brow at the hero, tentatively leaning forwards over her desk. Showing some cleavage usually never failed to soothe his nerves, but not today. "If you want to imply that we're the ones behind all this, I can assure you tha-"

"No" he raised a warning hand, softly shaking the snow globe before putting it down again. "Nonono, I'm sure if you had the means to threaten me, you would've long since done it by now."

Homelander then leapt to his feet, strolling through the room filled with countless photographs of himself - but right now, it was like looking at a person he doesn't recognize anymore.

"Here's another interesting thing I found out: Not even a full week after my disappearance, you made the pathetic attempt to replace me with Black Noir. It wasn't until the public and your sponsors demanded answers to my whereabouts that you gave in and started actively searching for me. Isn't that correct?"

Checkpoint.

"Hey, I've been gone so long, I need to make up for all our missed conversations, don't I?" he huffed bitterly, viewing a snapshot of him and her without being able to feel anything but nauseous. "I've lived among...inferior people for the first time in my life. No fans, no people of Vought, just...Y/N and I. Living the life I only ever knew from textbooks or scripts. And it made me have a realization, wanna hear?"

The vice president closed her eyes in negative anticipation, taking in a deep breath but not being able to bring out a single word before being interjected again. Homelander knew her ways of manipulation and the effect he could have on her if he let her talk too much.

This time it was his turn, and he'd be heard.

The woman in front of of him crosses her arms in defense, giving an approving hum as she knew denying him was never an option.

"Let me tell you my theory first, you're gonna love this: So a boy of sixteen years is finally released from the laboratory he was raised in. Despite all the horrible things he had to endure there, he wanted to use his powers for good, so no one has to suffer like he did. He knows nothing about the real world, let alone care about profit or any of that bullshit. And then he meets this aspiring woman who sees her chance to be influental through him. Can you follow me until now?"

She nods and nothing more, her expression unreadable. "Good, very good. So the boy is now kept around the most rotten, selfish and greedy people on the planet. He was never inheritly evil, he simply adapted to his environment, as clueless as he was thinking this is how the world operates. And at the time any of you realized you had created a monster it was too late. You regretted it - but not out of moral concerns, no. Simply because you knew you couldn't possibly control him forever."

The silence was so loud that it was deafening, automatically answering everything.

"Even if that person was your most valuable asset, your figurehead, you'd be damned if you didn't use the lucky coincidence of him disappearing, no questions asked. Right? Right?!"

Madelyn Stillwell was a lot, but not a liar - at least not in the easy definition. She knew how to twist words, to withheld information just enough to get through with whatever she wanted. But she'd never lie so openly, so blatantly. Especially if it served no purpose, like right now that there was no use anyway. "We'd be damned if we didn't."

"So then why do you keep acting like any of this is right?" He looks deep into her, quite literally for his abilities wouldn't tolerate deceit. "Look, we've located you and the dot was moving. We knew you were alive. I do care about you, Jo-"

"Don't call me by that name. You don't deserve it." His jaw tightens into an almost-snarl, slapping Stillwell's hand away at her disgusting attempt to distract him through seduction. "Don't you dare touching me, and don't fucking lie to me again! Ive been lied to all my life...I'm so, so sick of this shit!"

Homelander's eyes turned from cold coal into glistening embers, threatening to destroy everything in their path shall the answer not be to his satisfaction. "Say. It!" he orders, his hands slamming on the table punctuating every word.

"Goddamnit, I'm afraid of you!"

"...what?" His voice was barely audible, laced with a hurt that surprised him - since deep down he knew the truth for a long time already.

"I'm afraid of you" she repeats, voice shaky at first but then practically yelling as if she knew it could be her last words. "I am fucking afraid of you, John! We all are! Everyone was relieved when you were finally gone, because no money is worth being subjected to you!"

"You- Vought...destroyed me for fucking nothing" he practically whines, his face running through various expressions at once as the last remains of his sanity crumbled. "I was robbed of any chance at normalcry and then tossed away like a broken weapon, and you seriously expected me to not return for a vengeance?!"

Countless possibilities rushed through his brain, one atrocious act more vile than the other - about how he could make the responsible pay the price for their wrongdoings, with Madelyn being the first one...

...but all his fury vanished when for the fraction of a second, his mind wandered back to you, who was still out there somewhere.

Maybe it was not too late for him after all.

All his life Homelander was comfortable trapping himself in a cage that was never locked, fearing whatever awaited outside could be even worse - but you, without even trying, had given him the hope to set himself free.

"Thanks for finally being honest with me." John shakes his head as if to cast all his violent impulses off, musing "I allowed you to use me because I never knew anything else...but that stops right now."

He breaks one of the windows with ease, grossed out by past memories when she dares taking ahold of his wrist. "Wha- where do you think you're going?" She looks sickishly pale, dreading that this would be the day he would go on a murderous rampage all those decades of madness had inevitably caused.

"I'm the Homelander, and I can do whatever the fuck I want." He rose into the air, not biding her another last look. "If anyone of Vought even tries to come near me again, I swear to god I'll end every single one of you."

___

Being in the US for the first time since your childhood made you realize: Damn, you didn't miss this shit a bit. Nostalgia is a real phenomenom, as it seems.

And even in this small town your...is it right to call him 'ex'? Anyways, his face is plastered on every square centimeter you'd fix your eyes on. Posters, screens, even goddamn groceries!

Hard to heal from something you couldn't even label, especially when basically everything reminds you of the love your heart still holds for John - or rather an illusion of a man that never actually existed.

You currently sat in front of your laptop, several tabs opened that made you feel pathetically nosy - but hey, there was hope that harvesting information about the real Homelander would help you overcome those silly, irrational emotions.

Then it should be good for you that everything you found out about him was freaking disappointing.

Vought...you were sure you had heard that name before. Typical monopolist corporate with a finger in every pie, unethical practices and too much influence on politics. It was as obvious as it was enraging, and yet no one cared enough to act against them - not that you were any better. To their defense, supes can be pretty scary so you get the sentiment of not wanting any beef with their bosses...especially after seeing John go apeshit in the past.

But as they all did, Vought still cared about their public image, and so they did a lot of charity to appear ethical. Not that it actually helped to cover any of their crimes up - this was more like an unofficial etiquette, a rule to behave like they're actually the good guys.

A few years ago you had applied for sponsoring your cause, and of course they denied the request. Vought couldn't give two shits about the environment, and if you didn't know any better they'd even go so far as destroying it themselves if the cause - profit, in this case - justifies the means.

Interesting enough, shortly after your return to society an official letter of the company magically appeared at your new address: A pledge of secrecy in return for money, summed up.

No thank you, metaphorically selling your soul to the devil wasn't your kind of thing.

A walking incarnate product, you thought as you closed the interview. No civil life, always performing. And that fabricated all-american backstory...ugh.

And about Homelander...

All videos you sporadically saw of him were kind of unsettling. His eyes were just as empty as his words, movements robotic and fake as if he had only learned to mimick normal behavior. Seeing him like this made you wonder if he even had a soul, or if Vought had sucked all humanity out of him decades ago.

How comes no one seems to notice...or do people simply don't want to acknowledge the truth about their heroes and the ones that lead them?

You sound like a dang conspiracy-theorist for someone that just got dumped by a supe in the most humiliating way possible. It's possibly just a coping mechanism to cover up the hurt caused by the indeniable truth: Someone like you was inadequate to the infamous Homelander in every single way.

The display of your old laptop almost snapped as you closed it in sadness and frustration, turning your attention to building that stubborn IKEA shelf again.

Wanting to regain an objective view on the situation at hand, you remind yourself that the two of you led fundamentally different lives that could never work out together. You hate modern civilization, you hate being the center of attention, you hate events and big cities...

...but you don't hate him. And maybe with him, for him, you could have endured.

Funny, isn't it? You've been alone ever since the death of your parents, keeping to yourself even while pursuing your education. Never able to form any close bonds, even if you tried. Ironically, you were exactly as lonely as him - not made to be among others just the same.

"Still a horrible taste for furniture, I see."

That familiar voice made your blood run cold, collecting yourself impossible as the blue-reddish silhouette belonging to it came into your field of view just seconds after.

All questions and accusations died on your tongue when you reminded yourself just who was standing in your living room right now. Homelander could find you no matter where, and literally tear away the roof of your house without anyone ever daring to object.

"You look great" he cannot help but notice, but you grimace as you see your own reflection in the window: grey sweatpants, a messy bun and an old T-shirt of his. Sure.

"Well, in case you forgot: I'm still in tremendous debt, so I'm not exactly drowning in luxury" you scoff, face fixated on the clash of wood and screws. John narrows his eyes in confusion, stating "Vought was supposed to recompensate you."

"Financially? Well, not without a catch." For a moment he thinks loudly, talking about 'ripping Ashley's head off', which made you finally turn to look at him. "Metaphorically" he added, raising his hands in a placating manner.

"Oh, yeah...Ashley." The name only forcedly escaped your throat, which did not go unnoticed by Homelander. "Your girlfriend and I had a long talk back then. She explained your outburst was caused by PTSD. So no worries."

"My wha-" John made a dramatical gagging sound, crinkling his nose at you. His fists were on his hips, expression grim ike always when he was about to rant about something, making your lips twitch as you resisted smiling at the adorable sight. "Gosh, no. Ew. She's everything but that."

You had almost forgotten how cute he could be when one pushed his buttons - good to know it's still this way. "So, what brings you here all of a sudden?"

"Well, I-" He opened and closed his mouth several times in an attempt to come up with something, anything, but it sure took him a while. "Y-You didn't publish anything."

"I searched for your article. You've been talking about it nonstop back then." He dared stepping closer, making himself as small as humanly possible. "Actually I hoped to be mentioned and showered in praise as your assistant."

"Huh?" You narrow your eyes at him, and his tension is barely veiled. Great, just great Mr. Charming.

Okay, that one made you laugh. You had almost forgotten how refreshing those little exchanges were. "Well well well...I had to start from scratch after a certain someone wrecked my laboratory." He nervously rubs the back of his head, unintelligibly chuckling "Right...sorry about that."

"It's alright" you dismiss the guilt in his voice with a cheerful remark, "I'm teaching at a university temporarily, until I got enough money for another try." He knew. All this time he never lost track of you, craving to walk this path together with you but too cowardly to ask for your permission to join. "Seriously, Homel-"

"John" he corrects you, showing no ill intend. "Please, just call me John." Oh, how he missed the way his name sounded in your voice: Neither shallow, nor demanding or afraid - just John, no strings attached.

"Oh. Oh. Okay, John. But..." you intertwine your fingers to keep them from trembling, biting the inside of your cheek. "Really, you don't owe me anythi-"

"I owe you every-fucking-thing!" John blurts out, his insistance showing as he softly grabbed your shoulders. "Y/N, you helped me despite gaining nothing from it. If that isn't heroic, I don't know what is. I mean, without you I'd be a fucking icicle right now."

How often did he say this corny trademark quote 'You are the real hero(es)' before? This is the first time that it felt genuine - after all, you had saved him in more ways than just one.

You cackle shortly, more out of attachment to the man than his joke actually being funny. But the longer his hands remained stubbornly on your body, the harder it became to act like acquaintances merely sharing a crazy story that's long in the past.

"But you can't give me what I want..." You don't know what moved you to speak from the heart, but after all that had happened you deserved to drown in some self-pity. John's forehead wrinkled in an attempt to make sense out of you, insisting "C'mon, let me indulge you a little. For old time's sake."

Nothing to lose after already having everything taken away from you, right?

"It's my fault, honestly" you try to keep it together, but you knew there was no hiding your choked sobs from his senses either way. "I fell for something fake. And I know, I know it's stupid, but-"

"Not everything was fake" you rudely got interrupted again, but the content of his rambling made you forgive him easily. "My feelings weren't."

It took you a while to have John's confession actually dawn on you, releasing a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. "Your...what?"

"Took me long enough to realize" he snickered as he pulled you into a long-due hug, pressing a wet kiss into your hair out of habit. "I've tried to continue my old life, I really did. But fuck it...this whole time all my thoughts revolved around you."

He could barely hear over the sound of his own fastened heartbeat, but clearly your pulse was racing as well - not out of fear, that much he could tell.

And yet as much as the shared sentiment partially relieved you, there was something else laying heavy on your chest.

"I- don't know what to say, John" you try to wring yourself out of his embrace, but he stubbornly narrows the space between you, making you gasp in surprise.

Homelander was not someone taking no for an answer, used to always get what he wants no matter how. And people not acting like he anticipated was like hitting the bulls eye of his fragile psyche.

He'd be damned to just accept his loss after everything he put at risk.

"Hey big guy...look at me."

Your voice alone made him snap out of a downward-spiral that usually was an unstoppable force, always ending in tragedy. As he met your eyes he detected the plea in them, a vulnerability he had yet to allow himself.

"I have very strong feelings for you, John." Good. Then where's the fucking problem?! "But I've spent a lot of time thinking about" you pause, awkwardly gesticulating between the two of you. "This. You and me, us...John, you were talking in your sleep a lot back then. If you were not busy screaming your lungs out, I mean. About burning, drowning or being cut up alive..."

Your eyes begin to water at the memory, clawing a fistful of blue fabric from his suit. "Just...tell me the truth, and not that fancy propaganda bullshit. If we continue this, then I want to know you inside and out."

"What if..." John's voice cracks, only notices he'd been crying as he feelsbthe salt of his own tears prickle on his lips. He fucking hates this weakness, this sickness of his, especially if he cannot hide behind a facade. "What if the truth if so much more horribe than you could ever imagine?" His hands squeeze yours now, as if he fears you'd disappear if he let go off of this emotional anchor you had become.

John was about to pull back, bracing himself for the rejection. His only solace was the thought that it's probably the best for you.

If you'd know this relationship would eventually turn you into the moral support of a malignant narcissist and subsequent homicidal maniac, there was no way on earth you'd still voluntarily be a part of his life.

"Then I guess we've got to figure it out."

Whatever the extend of his pain, you are aware it's going to put a huge toll onto you as well. He most likely can't live normally, let alone love.

You cradle his face in your hands and he subconsciously leans into the touch, whining at his own neediness. "I can't say that my love is going to erase your hurt, but I can promise to be at your side through all of it."

"That's about the best fucking thing someone has ever said to me" he half-cries, half-laughs when you finally pull the man on his collar down to your height, sealing your promise with a kiss.

"And now get out of that costume" you tease, pinching one of the pads on his chest. "Looks even more hilarious now that I know you're not all that muscular underneath."

"Well, to my defense, other clothes aren't really fit for breaking sonic speed." He twirls you around skillfully, embracing you from behind as close as humanly possible. "And besides, that makes me the perfect candidate for a long-distance relationship, don't you think? You stay in this boring chaff, hell even the end of the world if you want to, and I could still visit you everyday. Or I'll just kidnap you to wherever you want."

Seems like he had already planned it all out. Not the most concerning action of his, though. Almost sweet, if you want to see it this way.

Won't be the last time, surely.

"But what do you want?" The question was so simple, so downright basic that not knowing the answer left him empty inside. His wishes? Does he even have any dreams or aspirations?

There was never a 'John' - the boy with this name died in that lab so Homelander could rise. For so long he had existed for the sole purpose of others that he completely forgot he was in charge of his own fate...

He leans to kiss you again, more tender this time as he savours the way your tears mix with his."I want to enjoy this until I can give you a proper answer one day."

...until you opened his eyes, through sheer kindness and willpower.

Maybe humans aren't so weak after all.

Finally, he smiles. It's the kind of smile that reaches up to his ears, making his whole face crinkly. One that matches with his eyes, genuine and radiant just like back when you first met.

"There you are...welcome home, John."

[foxymoxynoona]

Over the Falls (Ch. 6)

Sexy Banner & bar by @borabae-gx

Summary: Jungkook sees a lot of things as a pool tech. It’s…  fine. It pays the bills between mornings on the water and evenings  rocking out with his garage-band. His favorite thing to see on the job has been Grace Birch –older but a hottie, wealthy but nice, and  unfortunately very married. At least until Grace learns what her husband  has been up to behind her back. Now that she’s free, Jungkook finds  himself wondering: what does it take for a guy like him to catch the eye of a woman like that?

Genre: Poolboy Jungkook x Rich Divorcee OC

Tags: Age gap (older woman), socioeconomic gap, Surferboy JK, drummer/guitarist/vocalist JK, Wealthy divorcee OC, househusband

CW: Mature/Explicit,  Infidelity (not between JKxOC), language, alcohol, recreational drugs, lots of explicit sex, ageist/racist/classist remarks down the road, outdoor sex, beach sex

Chapter Five | Masterlist | Chapter Seven

The package sat loudly on the counter, unmoved from the spot Grace had set it when she brought in the mail yesterday. She’d meant to open it last night, obviously, but she’d been at the art gala with Stephanie until late and then decided to call her mom back –who scolded her for not coming home recently enough and threatened to visit, which would actually be kind of nice, except Grace didn’t want her seeing the new house until the renovations were done, or her mom would try to help and Grace wanted this place to be all hers. Then for obvious reasons it was no longer the right time to open the box.

But as Grace made her coffee the next morning, she eyed the box. It would be weird to open it now, right? In the morning? She’d paid extra for the rush shipping though so it felt stupid to then just let the box sit there. She could have just waited for standard shipping then. Not that money was the issue but there was morality in patience so she didn’t usually rush things. This time she’d made an exception after foolishly flirting with yet another man who committed only the crime of politeness –this time the guy at Best Buy helping her choose the right TVs for the new place, something she had never bought in her life and now she needed three and he’d just been so nice and supportive and non-predatory and good looking. She’d thought he was flirting. Maybe he was? After she’d made her purchase and booked the appointment for someone to come set them up, she began to worry he hadn’t been flirting. She hadn’t exactly done anything egregious, just smiled and laughed and felt flirty about it, but that was enough as far as she was concerned. She could not let her libido turn her into the sort of divorced woman who flirted with everything with a pulse. She didn’t want to be that kind of divorcee! 

Not that she thought there was anything wrong with a woman fucking around if she had the opportunity, if she knew it was welcome, but Grace found herself uncertain about taking that sort of step without unassailable, undeniable proof it was welcome. She was worried about inviting the wrong guy into her bed and repeating the last ten years. She was worried about rebounding and getting attached and hurting herself just as she’d finally gained her freedom. She was worried about making a fool of herself at an age she was supposed to have figured things out by. 

Grace set her empty plate in the sink instead of dealing with it now, and turned towards the box. Seconds before ripping it open with her hands –the tape on these things was so weak!-- she recalled the scolding from her nail lady and opted for the kitchen scissors instead.

Sure, she’d placed the order, but still her eyes went wide as she pulled things from the box: a long purple vibrator with a ridged end allegedly perfect for hitting just the right spot; a sparkly pink dildo that made her realize she did not understand measurements because was six inches really this big?!; a spray bottle of toy cleaner; and a plain bottle of unscented lube. The company had also thrown in several sample packets of flavored lube, which kind of ticked her off. What did she care if it was scented? What about her order made them think she had someone to try flavored lube on?!

The dildo was heavy in her hand. It had been at least ten years since she’d owned a dildo, and it wasn’t even one she’d bought; she’d been gifted one at her bridal shower amid ripples of giggles –largely from her own mother and grandmother. She’d never used it, didn’t even know what had happened to it so probably Tim had chucked it. Why would she, she had a brand new husband who’d seemed insatiably into her, willing to jump into the sack at the slightest lift of her eyebrow.

She recoiled from the memories now. They disgusted her. In the end, she hadn’t been enough –no. No, she had been enough, he was just an asshole. Not even a sex addict, just a horny bastard bored of the same sex with the same woman. Well she’d been bored of it too! He hadn’t satisfied her in years but she’d shrugged it off because she’d made a commitment that had nothing to do with good sex, it was about partnership and commitment. She would have endured a lifetime of no good sex…

Nauseating. No longer an issue, at least not for the same reason. She just needed to figure out how people did that. Not sex, she understood how sex worked, but how you got there in the first place. Could it have been as easy with that waiter as saying yeah I want to bang, let’s go? That didn’t seem right. What about… boundaries and condoms and sexual health and whether to stay or go afterwards? What about communicating what pleased her and understanding what pleased him? How the hell were you supposed to know what was good for someone you didn’t even know? And she sure didn’t know what was good for herself anymore, now that she’d let it get dusty down there. It seemed impossible she had ever been single and navigated this, but she had been a young pretty twenty-something and overly confident in her ability to choose good men.

Well. No time like the present. She eyed Foam, happily licking an extended leg within his favorite sunbeam in the empty room that would be the rec room –the walls of windows looking into the back porch didn’t seem appropriate for anything else so she was thinking of putting a wall of mirror on the other, installing a good fan, another TV, an elliptical and a bike. 

Now wasn’t the time to get distracted with home projects. Foam looked like he was settling in for a nap and probably wouldn’t interrupt. 

She carried her goods up the stairs to her master bedroom, the second room just about complete. The gauzy embroidered curtains she’d ordered for all the windows hadn’t arrived yet, nor the ornate rods she would hang them on, and she would take her time finding the right art for the walls–

Sex. Orgasm. Not tasks! Grace pulled the drab curtains closed for some privacy, but left the windows open because the early May morning was pleasant and the paint fumes from down the hall still needed airing out. 

First she dutifully cleaned the toys in the master bathroom sink. Then she set them on a towel on her nightstand to dry as she pulled her pants off. It felt ridiculous to be doing this in the morning… like having a beer with breakfast, the timing was all wrong. But excitement was growing just at the suggestion of a satisfying orgasm, and she wasn’t going to stop now just for some silly notion of right time. She’d spent too much of her life trying to do things at the right time and now look at it all. 

It also felt a little silly to have her shirt on but not her pants, but she decided to leave that too. She got settled in bed, under nice crisp sheets, before realizing she needed batteries for the vibrator. So she wrapped the throw around her body and shuffled downstairs to dig around for where she might have tucked them, feeling sillier by the minute for carving so much time out of her morning just for an orgasm.

Batteries found, back upstairs she went, only to discover it was actually a rechargeable and had blessedly come already charged. 

The Cosmo article she’d been reading had suggested the dildo-vibrator combination for “earth-shattering orgasm,” hence the dual purchase. They had not mentioned that you might feel a bit silly smearing lube onto a dildo at 8:35 in the morning. Lube had been her least favorite thing about sex with Tim –time would tell whether the need for it was simply a fact of life beyond her twenties or if her flailing attraction to her own husband’s pathetic overtures was to blame. God, she couldn’t believe she’d tried to view their sex life as healthy at the time. It was so… pathetic now. So obviously terrible! 

If she kept thinking about Tim, the whole bottle of lube wasn’t going to be enough. She propped her legs open and positioned the dildo at her entrance; the cold lube made her shiver and clench in a completely unsexy way. She grabbed the vibrator with her left hand and positioned it above her clit. When she clicked it on, the vibrations were way too strong at the start and she yanked her hand away with an actual squeak. 

Why was she acting like a teen girl touching herself for the first time?! Grace had a healthy sex life before Tim, including a healthy solo sex life. Maybe dildos hadn’t been her thing but she’d been well-versed in vibrators from the time her mom bought her first one at sixteen with the sage warning use this before every date so you never make a stupid decision about a man. That and a very frank explanation of the birds and bees when Grace was eight, were the only thing her mother had ever directly said to her about sex; they just didn’t talk about things like that, though Grace heard plenty from her older sister Diana and slightly older cousins so she was decently well informed by her first experience which was had been, to be honest, rather unimpressive.

“Why am I thinking about all of this?” she sighed to herself. It was like her mind couldn’t stop long enough to even seek pleasure. That was exactly why she needed this! She slid the vibrator and dildo back into place. The vibrator felt good but the dildo just felt like being poked. There was no atmosphere, no mood, and certainly no technique. 

She needed to be in the right mindset, not overly critical like this. She reached further back in time than Tim, but not back to those awkward first experiences. There had been some satisfying ones, back before Tim somehow stole her attention and her heart, before Oskar broke it –god, not the right time to think about him either. Before that, she’d dated around a bit, she’d had good sex that carried no emotional baggage for her now. Men who– well, young men, she’d been in her early twenties, which felt so long ago right now… 

Shut up, shut up, shut up. This was a bust. She sighed and let the dildo flop heavily to the bed between her legs. 

“No, you’re doing this,” she scolded, just as quickly. Even without the dildo, if need be! She slid the vibrator back into place and took slow, steady breaths, trying to empty her mind and focus on only what would be helpful now. She needed atmosphere. She needed touch, even if imagined. She closed her eyes and tried to picture a strong hand sliding down her thigh, skating between her legs, taking hold of the vibrator and the dildo. The nameless, faceless owner of the hand kissed her forehead, her cheek– no, too romantic, she wasn’t looking for that right now, she just wanted to cum. The mouth wasn’t important, just the hands sliding over her body, gripping, caressing, working her open with strong, tanned fingers.

OK, ok this was going better. She picked the dildo up again and slid it into place, envisioning the dark top of Nameless Guy’s head as he focused on positioning himself just where she wanted him to be. She pushed the dildo, just testing, as her other hand slid the vibrator a little here, a little there, trying not to come on too strong, but this was working, it was feeling good, and the clear head would feel worth it!

Suddenly music outside interrupted her daydream. She jolted just as the music lowered to a reasonable volume out of her own speakers. With a start she realized it must be JK here to work on the pool, and that she’d been so focused on her new toys she hadn’t even realized he was here.

She glanced at the rustling drapes and hesitated… she ought to stop but… why? He was working, it wasn’t like he knew what she was doing, she could go out and say hi after she finished and maybe took a cool shower… besides she’d been getting pretty close, why ruin a good thing?

So she closed her eyes and repositioned everything and took her deep breaths to get herself back to that place, to the imagined feel of those hands spreading and smoothing her thighs, squeezing her chest, gripping her ass while she pushed the dildo further in, slow, steady movements intended to mimic Faceless Nameless guy’s movements.

“For a while there it was rough but lately I’ve been doing better…”

JK’s voice had a sort of folksy rock twang to it that wasn’t usually there, but Grace had noted  as she’d listened to him sing his way through his CD collection that he seemed to take on traits of the genre,. His voice had this chameleon quality to it, bending and stretching and pulling on a new style to fit any sound. What a skill! And right now that skill drifted up on the breeze and into her bedroom as clearly as if he was serenading her from the balcony. What was this ridiculous acoustic design? The last thing she needed as her vibrator buzzed against her clit was JK’s voice crooning into her ear…

Oh. Oh no. The dark head of Nameless Guy looked up at her and JK’s dark brown eyes sparkled up at her above that crooked smirk.

Grace resisted. She tried to blur his face, scratch out the identifying characteristics, make him just a dark-haired, tanned stranger again… if he had been that way to begin with… 

It was wrong. Maybe that was a thing men did, but Grace couldn’t just use the image of her pool technician to get herself off!

And yet… things moved quickly as Nameless Guy refused to shed the face he’d claimed. Dark ink filled in on his shoulder and bled down through the other tattoos she’d observed only from a distance –the sharks inside his elbow, the compass on his bicep, the light lines on his wrist that looked like a sunrise. Her mind filled in the details it didn’t know, the dimples of shoulder muscles she’d never seen closely or touched–

She should not be letting JK sneak in like this. She couldn’t. She shouldn’t! But as the dildo parted her with its unnatural silicon weight in a way that wasn’t unpleasant, and the vibrator nudged her clit just the right moment, and JK’s voice hit the climax of the song, “I want you, I need you, oh God, don’t take these beautiful things that I’ve DONE”--

Well, Grace did too. Back arching, arms locked, body clenching around the shape of the dildo even once she’d pulled it out, the emptiness more intrusive than the feeling of fulness had been. 

For a few minutes Grace just lay there, tingly and relaxed. She listened to the whole next song that way, eyes closed, running her own fingers soothingly up and down her arm.

Then methodically she cleaned the toys and stashed them in a drawer, and took a shower –just a quick rinse to remove any lingering trace of what she’d just done, ie masturbated to the mental image of her pool guy who was out in her backyard this very moment.

Shit. That was the opposite of what orgasming was supposed to do, help her be free of stupid, impulsive decisions about men.  

God, that was so inappropriate! She hadn’t meant to. He’d snuck in during a weak moment. Obviously he was hot but she was not … like… into him or anything. Men did that, didn’t they? Just “borrowed” a person’s image because she was hot and they needed– ok but she didn’t want to be like a man!

But damn that orgasm had been better than she’d expected– due to the vibrator dildo combination, obviously! Not for any other reason!

She couldn’t ever face him.

“Hey!” she called, facing him anyway, because she had something to prove. She could be normal and kind and keep that oopsy mental image completely separate from the real guy because it was separate from the real guy! Probably she didn’t even have his tattoos right; it wasn’t like she’d ever made a careful study of them. 

He waved at her call but didn’t stop singing this new song, something she didn’t know but it was the same voice as before –the one JK outsang at every bar. The songs were slower, more mellow than the stuff JK usually listened to when he worked on her pool.

“Who is this?” she asked the most casual question she could think of. “It’s good music for your voice.”

“Benson Boone,” he answered, finally looking up, squinting at a patch of sunlight that hit him in the face. His sunglasses sat uselessly atop his head, holding his hair back. It was a little longer than Nameless Guy’s hair –she liked JK’s better, to be honest, he seemed to be growing it out lately. OK, maybe it was centimeters different. The more alarming thing was that her mind had perfectly recreated JK’s face. Was she really so familiar with it?! Well, hadn’t she always been good with faces?

No, no she was actually pretty bad at faces. She’d trained herself to get good at remembering names. 

“And thanks. I just got the album a couple of days ago. More folksy than I usually listen to but it’s good stuff,” he told her. “Thought you might like it.”

“I do but yeah, it doesn’t sound like your usual playlist.”

“Trying to expand my horizons,” he said, and skimmed a wad of leaves from the water to set on the side. “Ah, this is a good song. Happened pretty quickly, jumpin’ in with both feet I’ll go, though I can’t see nothing below, so ready to give up my soul. Movin’ past the boundaries, into waters so deep and so cold–”

The word “boundaries”, so beautifully articulated by JK’s lips, was like a smack to Grace’s backside.

“Yes, it’s great,” she interrupted. “Beautiful day, huh?”

“Perfect day to break in your pool,” he agreed.

“Beg pardon?”

He reached down to shovel the small pile of pool detritus he’d fished out into his bucket, then stepped back and gestured with a flourish, “I present to you, your pool.”

“You’re done? Already?” she frowned before she could think to stop herself.

JK laughed, “I’m not used to hearing that.”

“What?” Grace choked, mind leaping right back to what she’d been doing in her bedroom not twenty minutes ago. Had he meant that as a dirty joke?!

“You know, contractors take too long to finish the job?” he clarified. She could not tell from his face whether he knew the innuendo he’d made or if only her mind had taken a dip in the gutter this morning.

“Oh. Right. Well…”

“Are you happy with it?”

“Yes of course I am, it’s beautiful. I’m sure it’s going to be incredible to swim in,” she rushed out, forcing herself to look at it. The water sparkled in the morning sun, clear and cool, not a single tile left chipped or unpolished. 

“I should have taken before and after pictures,” he sighed. “Bob won’t believe it.”

“I have pictures from before. I’ll take them and send them along,” she promised. JK deserved praise from his boss. He’d done incredible work, and more quickly than she’d expected –not that she had any frame of reference beyond what JK told her to expect. And she supposed this was within that timeframe but still, it felt too suddenly done, didn’t it? 

“You don’t look that happy,” he admitted.

“No! I am. Obviously you did an amazing job. You just didn’t tell me you were getting close,” she said. Then quickly added, “To done. With the pool.”

He shrugged, “I got lucky, sometimes it takes longer to get the water just right but I tested this morning and it’s perfect. You could jump in right now if you wanted.”

She nodded, then shook her head and sighed, “I can’t this morning, but maybe tonight. I promise not to leave your hard work waiting for too long.”

“Good. That’s what makes it all worth doing,” he said, as if repairing her pool had been some higher calling and not a paycheck. He grabbed his tools, chucking anything that would fit into the bucket, then sliding his flip-flops back on. Like he was in a rush, she realized. He had somewhere to be. Other jobs to get to, now that he’d finished this long one. 

“Thank you again,” she said, walking alongside him to his truck. She joked, “I mean it. Mornings are going to be so quiet around here now without you letting yourself into my yard and blasting music to harass the neighbors.” 

“Well I’ll be back in a week to make sure everything looks good still and after that, every two weeks for cleaning, yeah?”

“Oh! Yes. I think I signed up for that? I’ll call Bob today and make sure.”

“Yeah my schedule is pretty booked but I’m sure I can squeeze you in.” He winked when he said it, then chucked stuff into the back of the truck with an alarmingly heavy thud. Before she could think of whether to tease or ignore about the wink –as if he needed to charm her into signing a pool cleaning contract– he continued, “Oh, and if you miss my singing before then, I’ll be covering one of those songs with my band at The Sand Bar this weekend. Saturday.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, we go on around nine, so not too late.”

“Oh! Let me get your CD before you drive off,” Grace realized. She ran to grab it while he stepped into his truck, then handed it through the open window.

“Think about it, huh? We’re pretty good and you like the music.”

What had that lyric been about boundaries? Grace felt like she ought to listen to it again –but probably not sung by JK with his band at a bar. Objectively she knew she had crossed a line this morning, that a line had already been crossed when JK first left her the CD with Tim’s video on it, and that no good would come from crossing further lines. 

But he seemed so earnest, so sincere in the suggestion, like he really thought it would be cool and normal for her to just show up at the bar he was playing at with his friends.

Wait, was that a normal thing to do though? If her housepainter mentioned he had a jazz band that played brunch on Sundays and she took Stephanie and Ashley, that would be totally fine.

But she hadn’t just orgasmed imagining her housepainter screwing her seven ways to Sunday while she drilled herself with a dildo.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. 

“Ok good. The Sand Bar, Saturday.” He pointed his finger at her like a gun and clicked his tongue against his teeth while winking. She could tell by his response he had not understood her sidestep of the invitation, which was probably for the best. Probably he was being nice or trying to pull in an audience –he’d mentioned before that sometimes they got paid by heads when they played, though most of their gigs were unpaid. If he brought it up again, she would have some easy, polite excuse. That was one skill her mother had taught her well, how to politely manage an impossible social commitment.

Her pride in that was short lived as the gate closed behind the tail lights of his truck. The yard was suddenly so quiet with no music or conversation in it. She hadn’t known this was his last morning here or she wouldn’t have spent it all locked in her room… masturbating.

Ugh, the fact that’s what she’d done –instead of chatting or offering snacks for this final day of his work– was going to haunt her all day. Why hadn’t he mentioned he was almost done? 

Not that it mattered, of course. Not that it was any big thing. In fact it was nice to have the pool done now. She could go swimming right now! It looked beautiful, a sparkling gem tucked back in the yard. She would swim in it soon and really enjoy all that carefully laid tile and the clarity of the water and the absolute lack of frogs. And when JK came back to clean it in two weeks, she would retain a professional, respectful boundary. And in the meantime, she would try to make some actual new friends so she stopped relying on the pool guy for company. And she would, you know, definitely not use his image in her masturbatory fantasy because that was just beneath her. That had been an egregious slip, it was embarrassing, and she would not make the same mistake twice.

Mara had called Jungkook on a Thursday night, hot and bothered and looking for a hook up so of course he had gone. It was simple sex, a good release after such a long stretch of nothing, and afterwards Jungkook fell asleep on the edge of her twin bed feeling pretty good about things. This was good to do. He’d been saying for a long time he needed to start fucking around more. Sex cleared the head and balls. 

He didn’t need more than this. Sure, some people did the whole relationship thing, but he only thought that way when he went too long with getting laid, when he got sentimental from too many chick flicks or too much time around his enamored parents. He could get laid, even if it was just rotating through a few familiar women and an occasional surprise when the sun and moon aligned just right after he left the stage –was that such a bad life? It could be worse. He’d gone through dry-spells before that left him doubting everything about himself, but if it was just that no girl really thought he was commitment material… well yeah, ok, he didn’t think he was really that either. What did he have to commit? He still felt sixteen years old in his heart, sometimes. Often times. Someday he’d meet someone, he’d have the whole romance. It could still happen for him, even though he was twenty-six without any real long term relationships under his belt.

But he’d cummed out the self deprecating thoughts, left them knotted in a condom in Mara’s trashcan, and had a great night of sleep in her overly air-conditioned apartment. It left him reluctant to return to his own, because Jimin was worried about the environment lately after the governor or something said people should be more conscientious so they were letting their house sit a little warmer. Jungkook was fine with it, but it was making Jimin and Taehyung both cranky. Hoseok had even decided to sleep at his own place, alone, so that definitely hadn’t helped Jimin’s mood. 

When Mara woke up, she looked hot as hell and ready to fuck again, stretching all cat-like along his side and pawing at his stomach.

Her fingers had just brushed his eager dick when his phone rang –never in his life a good sign. He fumbled it off the nightstand and answered instantly when he saw [Yoda] on the ID.

“Haewon? Everything ok?” he asked, sitting up and pushing Mara’s hand aside.

“Is that your sister?” Mara asked, her exasperation louder than the air conditioner.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

“Yeah I’m awake. What’s up?” He nodded at Mara and shoved out of the bed, grabbing clothes as he went because it felt wrong to go into big brother mode while naked in bed, half hard. The irony of it being with Mara –who’d dumped him in the first place for being too family-first– was not lost on him, but what was he going to do, hang up on his favorite sister?

“My car died and Dad said I can borrow his car while mine is in the shop but he can’t get me until later but I really need the car before lunch.”

“Why, what’s happening at lunch?” Jungkook asked, temporarily suspicious. 

“There’s a seminar on–”

“Ok, fine, I’ll come get you and drive you over,” he interrupted. Seminar, of course. Yoojin would have a hot date but Haewon had a seminar, probably about the politics of poverty or immigrant rights or some other incredibly important but super boring thing Jungkook would never have been able to sit through. “Be there in… maybe an hour?”

“An hour? It’s not an hour from your place to campus.”

“Ah, well, I’m in Hacienda Heights… see you in an hour.” He hung up before she could ask questions yet, though she wouldn’t pester much. Yoojin was nosy; Haewon would rather not know, and that was one reason she was the favorite sister.

Mara crossed her arms and snarked, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get breakfast but I guess family calls, huh?”

“Little sister is having car trouble,” he confirmed, “so I gotta go get her.”

“Honestly, don’t you ever feel like you’re just living the same day of your life over and over?” she asked and showed him the door.

Jungkook did not know what she meant and for that reason kept thinking about it as he crawled his way through traffic. Huh? Living the same day over and over? That wasn’t true at all. For example, last night he’d got laid by Mara on a random Thursday evening after not talking to her for months, which made it feel like it was six months ago, not the same day as the one before, which he had spent surfing and cleaning pools and lifeguarding at the beach until the sun went down. 

Haewon was on a cement bench when he pulled up near her dorm, arms around bent knees as two boys with skateboards talked to her. Jungkook thought they were trying to make her laugh. They had their baseball caps on backwards and he instantly didn’t like them for it. He beeped the horn once and Haewon sprang up but without any apparent guilt or worries about Jungkook seeing her talk to the guys. She waved at them, grabbed her duffel and her backpack, and tossed both in the trunk when Jungkook popped it.

“Hey,” he greeted as she slid into the seat beside him. “Friends of yours?”

“No, not really.”

“Only fuckboys wear their baseball caps backwards when it’s this bright out, you know,” he warned.

Haewon laughed and playfully shoved his head, asking, “How’s Mara?”

“Asked me a weird fucking question this morning,” he admitted, pulling away from the curb. He could change the subject from Mara and Haewon wouldn’t do a thing to press further, but she was smart and he realized he could borrow some of that right now.

“What’d she say?”

“Asked if I feel like I’m living the same day over and over.” He kept his window rolled down but the air on, because Haewon liked riding in the car like that; sometimes when they’d needed a break from the small family apartment when they were younger, he’d take her out in whatever beat up car he had at the time and they’d cruise through a tank of gas with the a/c on and the windows down and ideally the California coast out the window. They’d get Icees and drink them sitting on the hood. 

“Well… do you?”

“...no? What does that even mean?”

“Like you’re just doing the same things over and over and not going anywhere in life, I think,” she suggested, and wiggled in her seat to pull a squashed packet of gum out of her pocket. “Want some gum?”

“Well I don’t feel that way.”

“Yeah, ok, good. Gum?”

He accepted and they drove through an intersection in silence, Haewon clearly letting him mull this over. She was smart, so that was probably exactly what Mara meant. Obviously Haewon and Mara had never met, and he tried not to give her too much of a glimpse into his dating life since she was his little sister and all, but she knew some things. Yoojin knew more, because sometimes he’d forget what she was like and vent to her because they were closer in age, and then she’d say dumb shit that made him regret confiding anything in her and he’d hold off for months. Haewon did more with less. She’d give advice about the female mind if you really asked, but preferred to just tease a little and then stay out of it. And frankly, Jungkook wasn’t hooking up with any women that had a thing in common with Haewon, so it wouldn’t have been a great help anyway.

“Why is everyone obsessed with going somewhere?” he finally asked. “I’m just… surfing. Swim out, ride in, swim out, ride in, take a water break, do it again, and have fun doing it.”

“Yeah so what’s the problem? Don’t worry about her. Bitches will say anything.”

“Hae!”

Haewon laughed and assured him, “She’s probably just mad that you’re happy and she’s not.”

“How do you know she’s not happy? She seemed happy to me.” Except for the fact she’d made it clear months ago she didn’t want to keep seeing Jungkook and then called him up for a fuck again on a random Thursday night. So maybe she wasn’t actually that happy. She’d graduated over a year ago and was working in film, camera work, but he didn’t actually know if she had a job or not. She hadn’t wanted to talk, just fuck. “But yeah, you’re right, maybe she was talking about herself.”

“Yeah don’t worry about it. A lot of times when women say something, it��s really about them, not you.”

That sounded right and true and he was immediately relieved. 

“See? It’s totally worth it we’re paying the big bucks to send you to UCLA,” he teased, and rustled her hair while they were stopped at a red light. She scowled and pushed his hands away. “And not to date little shits who wear their hats backwards.”

“Oh my god, I said they’re not friends of mine,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah but I bet they want to be.”

“Maybe,” she admitted with a snicker. “But don’t worry about them. They can’t even show up to class on time, it’s completely…” She pondered the right word. “Disappointing.”

“Yeah well you just wait until a guy isn’t disappointing, that’s all. Keep your high standards.”

“You sound like Yoojin except she’s being sarcastic.”

“Don’t ever take guy advice from Yoojin,” Jungkook immediately scolded. 

“Yeah but Max is so cute.”

“Just because she made a great little dude doesn’t mean she knows anything about the kind of life that you’re going to have. No pressure or anything,” he quickly added, because unlike the rest of their family he knew it wouldn’t do Haewon any good to feel like they’d piled their hopes and dreams on her. They hadn’t. They just all saw she was earmarked for something better than surfing the tide and they wanted that for her. She was going somewhere, and he wanted to be the wave that helped carry her, not the wave that overwhelmed and drowned her. 

“Yeah no pressure. I’ve only got two years to raise the money for Yale…”

“We’ll get you there,” he said. “Fucker, use your fucking light,” he mumbled as a guy cut him off –no, not a guy, an older white lady with puffed up blonde hair and nails so long he could see them on the wheel when he swerved around her because she was going ten below the speed limit.

“You didn’t say anything to Mom and Dad about Yale, did you?” she asked.

“Fuck no, why? The only person I’ve talked to about it is Soyoon and you know she won’t say anything to anyone.” Soyoon and Yoongi had both gone to college, UC Berkeley where they’d met. Yoongi had dropped out in his third year to take care of his parents through a health scare and never gone back, but Soyoon had graduated with a degree in journalism and was his only source of personal knowledge about how to fund college educations because she worked in the financial aid office at UCLA, even though she hadn’t gone there. Her help had been huge in navigating scholarships and loans for Haewon for undergrad and while she didn’t know much about East Coast schools or graduate programs, she did her best fielding whatever questions Jungkook threw at her as he tried to figure out how to get Haewon to her dream school.

“Ok, good. Mom said something about New England the other day and how pretty it must be in the fall… I was like, what? Why are we talking about New England suddenly?”

“I didn’t say shit, hand on my Death Note books. Probably she’s just complaining about the heat and daydreaming about moving there,” he suggested, because she definitely did that. What he didn’t do was suggest Haewon tell their parents about her dreams of Yale Law School. He respected her desire not to stress them out about something she herself wasn’t confident she could achieve or afford. He was honored she trusted him with her dream, that she relied on his guidance to help her figure it out, and he wasn’t going to let her down no matter what. 

So it was only his head that spun the numbers every so often: Yale Law School cost about $100k per year to cover tuition, housing, books, and food. But there were lots of scholarships available, even if his parents made too much money for them to qualify for some –which was laughable because what money? Haewon was potentially interested in going into public sector work afterwards which would help with loan forgiveness. They would figure it out, no problem. He, his parents, and Haewon were all saving too, for whatever scholarships couldn’t cover, and if they had to go the loan route again, they would. Haewon would get to go to Yale. Eventually she would have to tell them she was looking that far away, not somewhere West Coast, but that would be her news to share.

“It’s so nice. I can’t wait to be there and out of this heat,” she admitted. She rolled her window up and cranked the a/c, so he rolled his window up too. “Maybe you’d like it too.”

“Oh yeah? Could we get an apartment off campus together?” he joked. “What’s the surfing like in Connecticut? Big population of folks with pools that need cleaning?”

“I think you’d do more snowboarding than surfing but there’s lots of rich people, I bet they have pools they’re too lazy to learn how to take care of,” she pointed out. “And you don’t pronounce the ‘c’ in the middle, by the way.”

He ignored her and mused, “I don’t know if I’d like snowboarding… I like the sun and the sand.”

“That’s weird. Who likes sand?”

“It’s exfoliating,” he said, because he knew it would get a laugh from her. It did.  

“You should find a way to sell that to rich people,” she suggested. “Like way overcharge them for a spa treatment but it’s just… I don’t, retrieving your surfboard.”

“First of all, I am not a conman, I’d have a lot more money.”

“Only if you’re a good one and I kind of think you’d suck at it. You’re not good at lying,” se teased.

“Second of all, you are definitely not a business major. That’s your great business idea? You have to sell it better than that.”

“Ok Mr. Business, make it sound better?”

“Look, I can sing you a song, I can clean your pool–”

“Have you been writing songs?” she interrupted. “I like that last one you let me hear.” Jungkook cringed. He regretted letting her hear, but he’d been really proud of it and had wanted to show off to her that he could do something cool too, something cooler than just playing the songs someone else wrote. But damn, writing songs was hard.

“That was two years ago,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, so? Chop chop, right?”

“I’m working on some things,” he lied, shrugged. “Maybe if it gets far enough along.”

“Can I come hear your band play? When’s your next show?”

“Don’t you have studying to do?” he countered.

She snickered, “Oh, too many sharks with backwards caps, huh? Is that your crowd?”

“Too many women flirting with me,” he corrected. “You don’t need to see that.”

“Yeah, yuck, I don’t need to see that,” she agreed. “Don’t you play all ages places ever though? I’m going to text Soyoon or Yoongi, they’ll let me come see you. Maybe you’re not even telling me the truth about how the ladies love you. You know you don’t have to impress me, right?”

She was teasing, he knew that, but still he insisted, “Yah, you doubt it? I’m charming as fuck!”

“Ok ok geez. I just think if that was true you wouldn’t be spending your nights with Mara.”

“What’s wrong with Mara? You’ve never even met her.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not going to introduce you to the women I…” he trailed off. Ok, this was veering into not-appropriate-for-baby-sister territory. “Am acquainted with,” he suggested.

“Yeah thank god, I don’t want to meet them.”

“And I’m not failing at relationships or anything. I’m not trying to have one. I’m happy just…”

“Fucking around?” she asked.

“Haewon! Language!”

“Oh my god, does my own brother wear his cap backwards?” she teased. “Mo did.”

“Mo did,” Jungkook admitted and felt a pang. Yeah and Mo was a fuckboy the likes Jungkook could never aspire to. He was happily a fuckboy, successful, he loved the ladies and the ladies loved him to the bitter end. Jungkook could only dream of aspiring to Mo’s level of charm. Mo could talk circles around a woman until she was all knotted up and begging for him to unwind her. What few dates Jungkook managed to score on Tinder tended to go further downhill the more he talked. Context mattered for him; he needed the environment to make him look good, for his drumming or surfing to do the seduction for him.

“Well as long as you’re happy, I think it’s cool, but I’ve never heard anything about Mara that I liked so I don’t think she’s worth your time. At least don’t waste time with annoying ones.”

“Yeah, I know, I won’t.”

“Besides, you wear bucket hats. What would you warn me about guys wearing bucket hats?”

“Don’t date a guy who wears bucket hats either. Don’t you want to date a guy who wears like… a beret or something?”

“Uh… like a French guy?!”

“Rich, educated, maybe European…”

“Is that what you dream of for me?” she cackled in the passenger’s seat. “Oh my god that sounds terrible. I thought you liked me!”

“Yeah I just want you to wind up with someone really good! When you’re ready though. Right now, focus on your studies.”

“Ok dad, thanks. Anyway, what if I’m a lesbian?”

Jungkook considered this in earnest. As far as he knew, Haewon had never been close with a single guy, but she’d had some female friends. None that struck him as romantic, but it wasn’t like their family shared everything. She was keeping Yale a secret, maybe she had others too, even from him.

“Nah,” he finally decided. “I think you would have told me. I think you’re just school-sexual.”

“You say that like it’s lame.”

“There’s nothing lame about having more exciting things in your life!” he corrected.

“I don’t know what I am,” she admitted. “Everyone I’ve met is a clown. The guys would all waste my time. I know some cool girls but…”

Jungkook got very still. Wait, was Haewon coming out to him? He felt a mixture of panic and honor swirling in his chest. He hadn’t prepared for this. Honestly, despite half his friends being queer, he’d never much questioned that both his sisters were straight, because in the abstract Haewon had talked about a future boyfriend or husband, never anything else.

“That’s ok then,” he said, carefully.

“I don’t know how someone can date a girl though,” Haewon said. “Like they just make me feel crappy about myself.”

“You just haven’t met the right person,” he said, vowing from now on he would use gender neutral terms to make sure she knew he was cool with whatever she wanted in the future. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well… do girls make you feel good about yourself?” she asked. 

He thought about the safest answer to give his baby sister. The truth was that often women made him feel like a total piece of shit. But when it went well, when he fucked good or flirted good or played good, they made him feel like a fucking rock star, and he couldn’t stay away, he was constantly chasing that high, it carried him through the times he felt like a loser. Again and again he struck out but he kept swimming towards that ultimate dream, the one woman who could make him feel like a rockstar every day just with the touch of her finger…

“Yeah,” he said, keeping it simple. “But nothing feels as good as riding a really good wave though so I don’t think I’m in danger of settling down any time soon.”

“Maybe someday I’ll make enough money I can buy you a really nice beach condo and then you can just surf all the time and never worry about bitches,” she suggested, and he could see the twitch of her smile out of the corner of his eye, that she was trying to get a reaction from him.

“Are you just pissed you had to wait longer for me to pick you up this morning when you called me out of nowhere asking for a ride? Is that why you’re swearing like a sailor?”

“Yeah,” she giggled.

“Well stop it, you’re sounding too much like Yoojin.”

“Ok that’s one way to scare me.”

“Exactly, don’t do it.”

“Especially if I’m going to be the pride and joy of the family,” Haewon joked.

“Ok wait hold on now. I am clearly the pride and joy of the family,” he corrected. “I’m living exactly the life I want, the way I want it. That, my friend, is success. And I look fucking good doing it.”

“I don’t know, you haven’t written a song in two years…”

“I have! Just not any I want you to listen to.”

“Are they all about sex and drugs and things I’m not supposed to know about?” she asked, face curling up in disgust, intentionally pretending to be twelve again. 

“Why couldn’t dad pick you up again?” he asked to change the subject. He didn’t want to write songs like that but finding something more profound to write about had left him spinning in circles for literal years. Maybe there wasn’t more to life than just doing what you wanted and having fun with your friends and being the best son you could and avoiding drugs so you didn’t break your family’s heart, but he didn’t think that song would play on the radio and he didn’t know how to put it into words anyway. Sometimes he wasn’t even sure he believed that, but he wasn’t like Haewon, he didn’t have some big career goal for his life. He wasn’t even like Yoojin, with a commitment that should be giving her direction and purpose in pursuit of the best life possible for Max. 

“He took Max to his check up this morning,” Haewon answered, unphased. “Yoojin was working.”

“Do we really think she’s working?”

“You are asking the wrong sibling. I have hundreds of years of law and politics to learn, I don’t have brainspace for what’s going on with Yoojin and she doesn’t have brainspace for me either.” He wasn’t sure if she sounded hurt by it. He’d never pretended to understand their relationship other than that they had not seemed close in years.

“Yeah, maybe mom and dad shouldn’t have saved all the brains for you,” Jungkook lamented.

“You got a few of them.”

“Yeah, a few brains,” he agreed, then ruined it by adding, “But mostly I’m raw physical prowess.”

“You can drop me off here and I’ll walk.”

“I mean athletics. Drumming, surfing.”

“Sure you did. Don’t sound too much like Yoojin.”

“Sheesh. Fine. You didn’t have to punch so low.”

“That’s what you said a minute ago!”

“Yeah I’ve got to keep you in line somehow. Me? I don’t need lines.”

“Everyone needs lines,” Haewon argued.

“Spoken like a future lawyer.”

He’d meant it as a teasing insult but Haewon seemed pleased. At least she was going to be one of the good, non-asshole lawyers. She didn’t have it in her to be an asshole. Yoojin he’d be afraid to see show up in court because she was unhinged, who knew what shit she’d say or do, she’d get disbarred and her client convicted within ten minutes. But Haewon was going to change people’s lives, whatever type of law she went into, he was sure of it, and then their parents could be proud of at least one of their kids. And Max. Max was going to grow up great. And Yoojin… well, she could still turn out good if she just got her head on straight. Once she’d been funny and smart and charming too, before she got too wrapped up in men and dabbled in drugs and now sometimes it was like she just didn’t care anymore.

“Maybe we’re being too hard on Yoojin,” he mused as they neared his parents’ apartment. “She’s not all bad.”

“Did you know she has you as ‘Kevin’ in her phone?”

“Kevin? Who the hell is Kevin?”

“You know, like the Minion.”

“What? Why would she do that? And why would you know that?”

“She sent me a screenshot of your texts and didn’t realize I’d see. She’s sloppy with evidence.”

“But why?” he demanded. That Yoojin secretly named him after a Minion in her phone was so much more insulting than if she’d told him to his face.

“Do I look like the Yoojin-whisperer?” 

“Ok, message received. Time to bully. Is Kevin even the cute one?”

Haewon gave him a baffled look and demanded, “Which Minion is the cute one?!”

“You know what, nevermind, I’m suddenly feel pretty unsafe.” 

She had pulled out her phone and was grinning, he didn’t know if it was at him or at something on her phone.

“Hey, what am I in your phone?” he suddenly asked.

“Oppa.”

“Oh. Really? Didn’t I used to be JK? What made you change it?”

“One of my friends thought you were hot and tried to get your number from my phone so I had to put it into code,” she answered without even looking up. “Since none of them are Korean, now they think I text my grandpa a lot.”

Jungkook had no way of knowing whether that was the truth or not, since Haewon was the only Jeon kid who had any real skill in lying and simply chose not to do it (often) for moral reasons, so he took her at her word and asked, “Which friend?”

Her baleful look made him laugh.

“I’m not going to do anything. I just want to know. Who thinks I’m hot?”

“Girls are stupid.”

“That’s ok, for girls to be stupid,” he argued. “I don’t mind stupid girls. It’s hot.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’m joking! I’m joking. She’d be your age, right? Bleh, I’m not interested in a nineteen year old.”

“I thought guys love younger women.”

“Haewon, listen to me very closely. If a guy my age hits on you, it’s because women his age are too smart and he’s hoping to take advantage of–”

“Yeah yeah I know,” she sighed. “Date your own age. Again, unless he’s 300 pages long about civil liberties and is literally a book, I’m not interested.”

“Good girl,” he beamed. “Ok here we are. Looks like no one’s home.”

“I know, Dad will be home soon and I’ll take his car. I’ve got my keys, you don’t have to wait. But thanks for the ride.”

“Call me anytime,” he said and waved her off, watching until she was safely inside the apartment before he pulled away.

Where did Jungkook go on a day like today where he had no responsibilities, no work, no pressing demands on his time? It was a total coincidence he’d gone through his full week of pools and had no lifeguarding shifts today. The options were endless really. He could head to the beach. He could dick around with drums or guitar at home, maybe try to siphon lyrics from his brain again. He could do something productive like clean or grocery shop. He should definitely hit the gym today but he could do that later, after lunch. Right now, there was laundry or literally anything else…

He tossed his keys and wallet down as soon as he was in the house, announcing his presence, feeling in a good mood about it because they’d know he got laid and hadn’t come home without him even having to say anything about it. Only Taehyung was home, eyes glazed over as he stared at PUBG on the TV.

Jungkook zoned out standing behind the couch, just watching, until Taehyung hit a lull and could split his attention.

“Hey, you want to join?”

“Fuck yeah. Let me pack up my laundry for later and get a breakfast bar– you want anything from the kitchen?”

“No, you wanna do my laundry for me?”

“I’m not touching your stuff, half of it’s dry clean only,” Jungkook pointed out. Taehyung was an avid thrifter, found some incredible stuff that way, and one time a shirt of his wound up with Jungkook’s laundry, utterly ruined. The fight hadn’t lasted long, but if Jungkook was the type to hold a grudge, he’d still be upset Taehyung had gotten so mad over something that wasn’t even Jungkook’s fault. It wasn’t like he’d taken the shirt that Taehyung had paid too much for and stuck it in his own laundry. 

But he didn’t hold grudges. Grudges made you old. Jungkook was chill –so chill he could hook up with a girl who’d dumped him and it didn’t make him feel bad about himself because why? It was just sex, the very definition of a meaningless good time. Like outside of trying to make a kid, it was the quickest way to feel good and chill out that didn’t require drugs. Empty balls, empty brain, full life as long as you could get some. And he could get some. Mara had called him up even though she’d said she wouldn’t again, so clearly he was the type of guy a girl kept thinking about.

Laundry packed up by the door so he wouldn’t forget to take it with him –laundromat and gym, big plans for the day– he grabbed a protein bar that tasted like a fool’s dream of cardboard but he’d grown to kind of like them.  

“All right all right let’s do this!” he cheered, jumping over the back of the couch to land beside Taehyung. On a whim, feeling good, he decided to text Mara during the matchmaking, to see if she wanted to meet up again later this week.

She’d blocked him.

With a sigh and shake of his head, he decided Haewon was right, Mara wasn’t worth his time anyway. He had other options. It wasn’t like she was that good. Plenty more fish in the sea and Jungkook was a good fisherman, when the weather was fair and the waters were calm. 

“You’re younger than I expected,” were the man’s first words as she shook his hand and welcomed him into the office. His name was James Alard, and he’d scheduled a meeting with Grace because he was interested in purchasing a new home in the Beverly Hills area. She had sold three homes in Beverly Hills already, but never been on the buyer’s side of a purchase there –whichhe ought to have asked but either didn’t think to or didn’t care. Grace deliberated whether to offer that information for transparency –it meant she wouldn’t classify herself as an expert in the neighborhoods there, but certainly she felt capable of it, it was nearby.

“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “You do this full time or as a side thing?”

“I’m selective with the number of clients I take on to ensure each has the time and attention they deserve, and this is my career,” she answered, trying not to prickle at the question. There was just a way he asked it that annoyed her, it felt patronizing. It made her think of Tim, even though the guy didn’t look anything like Tim really, blond hair and green eyes and only a light natural tan to his skin.  

“I bet you’re good at it,” he mused.

“I like to think so, yes. I’ve helped many people find their home, or sell their old one ahead of a move or upgrade, on terms they’re happy with. You’ll see plenty of satisfied testimonials on my web page –and I have no hidden bad ones.” This was practically a script, but still he laughed as if it were just a personal joke she’d made with him.

“You seem like the kind of woman who knows how to close a deal on her terms.”

Grace tilted her head before catching herself, not wanting to read into anything he said. Was he flirting or just testing her to see if he should hire her?

“When we’ve found the perfect house, I don’t settle for anything less than the best deal,” she agreed.

He laughed, a not unkind sound, and sighed, “All right all right, I get it. You can lower your shoulders. Not interested.”

“Not interested in helping you find a house?”

“It’s just not every day you meet a good-looking, hard-working woman,” he explained. “It’s usually one or the other, and I just can’t stand those leech women who cozy up to the nearest wealthy man in the hopes they never have to lift a finger again.”

Grace’s eyes flickered with annoyance, but she answered calmly, “I work because I want to, not because I need to. I don’t know that characterizing any woman as a leech for marrying well–”

“You choose to work, see? So you get it. It’s not just women, I’d judge a man who sat around on his ass doing nothing too! I’m not saying we all need to head to the mines but what’s the point of being alive if you don’t live it with some hard work and sweat, right? Even if I had as much money as God, it wouldn’t make me lazy,” he said.

Grace was not sure what to make of him. In theory she somewhat agreed with this, finding purpose was good, but she didn’t think it had to be a financial return, if that’s what he was saying. Chasing any passion in life could satisfy. She was glad to have her suspicion he was flirting concerned and even for him to recognize she was not responding, but she wasn’t sure why he was still off on this tangent.

“Answer me this, what do you do for fun?” he asked her.

She cleared her throat and tapped her pen lightly on the table before redirecting, “Let’s sidestep back to what exactly it is that you’re looking for.”

“I thought I knew,” he said. “But I admit you’ve got me all twisted around when you walked in here. I’m looking for a house in Beverly Hills, as I said in my message. Something big enough for my two kids and I to be comfortable, but not so big it feels empty. I don��t want them growing up wasteful. Our old house –it’s too empty, too many bad memories.”

Well, so much for moving on from her lack of interest. You’ve got me all twisted around, yeah ok. 

“How old are your children?” Grace asked, thinking it a harmless question because it might influence what types of rooms or the layout of the house or whether he wanted a pool.

“Eight and twelve. Been widowed three years now and I thought it was better to stay where we were but it’s holding us in the past.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said. Widowed was a different sort of tragedy than divorce, and his children had been so young. 

“Thanks. It was hell, but I want my kids looking to the future now, I want to look to the future, and then you walk in here…”

She let out a sharp sigh and corrected, “Yes, a real estate agent, so let’s talk more specifics about what you’re looking for.”

“I didn’t know I was,” he said, and stared at her with a look that genuinely looked more longing than predatory, which was not what she’d expected. Grace could not for the life of her decide what to think about this. It wasn’t welcome right now, this was her place of business and she was trying to work. It was annoying and inappropriate, it didn’t matter how handsome he was. Maybe if he eased off and had met her in a different situation but he hadn’t so there, that was it. 

“For a house?” she asked, intentionally not taking that bait. “since you are specifically looking Beverly Hills, one of my colleagues who’s more familiar with the neighborhood would better be able to help you,” she said, rising from her chair now that she’d decided. No point taking on a client who made her even a little uncomfortable.

He stood as well and leaned forward, hand out, earnest as he suggested, “All right, if that’s better, no conflict of interest. Does that mean I can take you out to dinner?”

“I… I don’t think…” She was stunned to be so blatantly asked and glanced at her empty ring finger. In the past she could always make a dismissive joke I don’t think my husband would like that very much, because that tended to get a more immediate acceptance than trying to champion her own personal lack of interest. No ring this time though and she couldn’t stomach pretending to still have a husband.

“I know a great place. Do you like seafood?”

“I’m afraid I’m going through a divorce at the moment,” she said, instantly regretting it because this man didn’t need any of her life story. 

“So you could use a fresh start too. I promise I’m nothing like him,” he said. “I can’t say I’m entanglement free since I’ve got my kids but they’re great, don’t let that deter you, wonderful kids.”

“I… let me introduce you to my college,” she stammered out, and made for the door. “This is my place of work and it’s inappropriate and borderline harassment. I have not reciprocated your interest.”

The man quietly followed, not overly close which she appreciated. He behaved through the introduction and shook hands with her male colleague who seemed surprised by the generous hand-off of a potential client.

Before she left them to it, James Alard shook her hand and held it a bit too long as he apologized, “I’m sorry if I spooked you. I’m out of practice so I didn’t play my hand well, but I know a good thing when I see it. You have my email and my phone number. Please give it some thought and let me know if you’d be willing to give me another chance in a more appropriate setting.”

“Have a good day,” she said and couldn’t flee quickly enough. 

Without a client to meet, Grace dug through her inbox to find a replacement to reach out to, then browsed some listings and sent some suggestions to her current clients about open houses or things about to hit the market that might be worth their time. She found it challenging to concentrate with James Alard still down the hall; even once she saw him leave the building, she found her thoughts lingering.

Had he been inappropriate or opportunistic? Was it flattering for a widower to be completely agog at first sight of you, or patronizing that he was looking for a “hard working woman”? Love at first sight was all over the rom-coms but she did not feel like that was what had just happened –though objectively she had been so confused and unenthusiastic about the come-on while she was working that it wasn’t like she’d really given James a good look. If they had met somewhere else, would she have been so quick to dismiss him?  

Well, he was good looking, there was that. She didn’t disagree that having purpose was important –drive and ambition, within reason. Him having children of his own was neutral as far as she was concerned, unless he was a good father, in which case it was a plus. But she wasn’t exactly looking for a husband or commitment right now, which actually might mean it was a negative, especially if he was on the hunt for a new wife and a mother to his children.

Unwelcome advance, she decided. But he’d accepted the hand off without pushing his luck further. What if he was just a genuinely nice guy suddenly knocked sideways by a beautiful woman and it led him to be a bit out of pocket, but not egregiously so? Had that been egregious? Well, Grace had dealt with much worse come-ons. 

No, Grace decided by the time she headed home later in the afternoon. She hadn’t even cut ties with her old commitment yet, she was certainly not looking to engage with a new one. Getting laid would be nice but she didn’t want more than that any time soon and a widower with children was probably not a good no-string fling.

Would he be down for just that? She considered this in her car. He was clearly interested in her, eager. He’d been skilled enough and charming enough to get a woman to marry him, and it wasn’t like his marriage ended because he was a selfish prick or anything. Could he be an easy path to casual sex? What if that’s all he actually wanted too?

Maybe she just didn’t know enough to make a decision about this. She needed to see him in another situation. Maybe it was worth a reintroduction, just to see if the miss had been because it made her so angry to be hit on while working. She needed to understand if he was already rushing to the altar because he thought she was pretty or if he was just suddenly awake to his own desires at the sight of her which was ok, right? It was endearing if a guy was just flustered into stupidity, so long as it wasn’t a permanent state. 

Her phone rang, startling her out of her deliberation. She’d missed her mother’s last call so put it on speaker as she pulled out of the parking lot.

“Hi Mom.” 

“Grace, honey, hello. Are you busy?”

“I’m just driving home. Everything ok?”

“Oh yes, I just wanted to call and check on you and also, I just had coffee with Shirleen Eckle, do you remember her? Well it turns out she has a son a few years older than you who just moved to LA!”

“Uh huh. I don’t remember her. Interesting, mom. Is he looking to buy a house?”

“Oh no, he’s already bought a condo in Santa Monica, he sold his startup and left all that behind in San Francisco to start something new here. You’ll have to ask him what it was exactly, I don’t know, but I thought it would be a great idea if you met with him, maybe you can introduce him around to what society there is in Los Angeles.”

Grace’s mom had never made secret that she found the transient and fresh wealth of Los Angeles tasteless at best. She pitied all who moved there, though always had a fantastic time at the gyms and spas and shopping districts when she visited. Society was lacking, but “some of the foundations there are good, I know some good people who’ve been convinced to move there and made the best of it.” 

“Mom.”

“Yes?”

“Are you trying to set me up on a date?”

“Oh! No! No no of course I wouldn’t do that, you aren’t even officially divorced yet and I can’t begin to understand your taste in men,” her mother’s voice bubbled out of the speakers, every word making the lie more obvious. There most definitely was something pointed in her wanting Grace to meet Shirleen Eckle’s son. 

“Mom, I appreciate it, but I’m really not trying to start anything new right now.” She did not think the son of an acquaintance of her mom’s was going to be the right outlet for sexual abandon. Besides… a startup guy? Grace was sure there must be some good ones. Somewhere. She hadn’t met any though and hey, if she was going to make her own choices and set her own boundaries and be honest with herself, cutting out tech startup bros as a whole class of people she did not want to land in bed with seemed fair. No CEOs either, she’d met too many and didn’t think there could be a single good female orgasm to be found in their collective histories. If one convinced her otherwise, ok fine, but considering what an easy time her mom had following the rumor mill from half a country away, Grace knew for a fact she could not have meaningless sex with this Eckle guy.

“Of course honey, I understand completely, except you must be lonely. Aren’t you? You were with Tim for so many years and now you’re in that big old house all by yourself…”

“It’s not that old,” Grace insisted, longing to be there already. “It doesn’t look its age. It has character. You’ll love it when you visit. And no, I’m not lonely. I have Foam.”

“... The cat.”

“For now, yes, that’s enough. I get to do what I want, when I want, and I just have to make sure I’m home to feed him and give him attention until he wants to go chase ghosts by himself again. That’s all the attachment I want.”

“I just worry about you.”

“I know you do, and I appreciate it. But things are getting better every day. I’m through the hardest part now, I just have to get this divorce wrapped up and then I’ve still got my whole life ahead of me.”

“Well…”

“Mom…”

“No, I know you’re correct, honey, it’s just that thirty-five is both young and not young. You don’t want to miss something good coming your way just because you closed your eyes.”

“My eyes are open, I promise.”

“But you’re not looking.”

“Is being alone really the worst thing in the world? I think it could be kind of nice for a while. I got married too young.”

Her mom’s voice was loving and heavy and serious as she admitted, “I was married by twenty-one, you weren’t exactly a child bride! I just can’t imagine it. I can’t imagine that for you. I want someone taking care of you, that’s all.”

“Maybe someday, but for now, don’t worry about me. I promise. Now I’m hitting traffic and need to concentrate but trust me, I am going home to my beautiful house to make a shrimp scampi and drink some fantastic wine and it’s going to be a perfect night. Far, far better than any evening I had while married.”

“Well that’s because you married the wrong man, honey. The right man will change everything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Love you, mom, bye!”

She hung up before her mother could say anything to annoy her further. It was sweet her mom was worried, she knew that. But obviously she wasn’t going to tell her mom the only thing she’d been thinking about lately was sex –not a thing to discuss with her mom, though probably she’d be proud to know Grace had taken pains to buy the toys to prevent future bad decisions! Even though they hadn’t prevented Tim. But they would prevent James and Matthew, she was sure of that! 

Traffic sucked but, like a divorce, once through it, things were better. They would be better. Her home looked inviting and cozy, more put together by the week. Foam  was waiting for her by the door, probably drawn by the vibrations of the garage door. The bottle of wine was chilled to perfection and the smell of food cooking as she let Spotify play whatever it wanted made her life feel very full. 

Did she want someone to slide his hands up under her shirt, swaying as they drank wine and cooked together, maybe bend her over the counter… Yes, sure she did. But then she’d be happy for them to go home and leave her to her space and privacy and things being just the way she liked them. She didn’t feel lonely right now in any way except sexually. 

Was that weird, that sex was so top of her mind lately rather than romance or companionship or emotional intimacy?  Was that a sign of divorce shredding her heart? But honestly, she didn’t feel shredded right now. In a way, she felt more whole and in control of her thoughts than ever before. A handsome guy blatantly came onto her and she was being very practical about what she wanted, whether she was interested. Picky, one might say, so she must not be too desperate yet. 

And outside of sex, what good was a man to her? Tim had never been a bit of good, really. Her life had become so much easier without him that it was impossible to remember what good he had ever contributed, and thus she missed nothing without him. She had plenty of girl friends to socialize with, who needed a boyfriend? It would just be nice to have a hand other than her own wringing pleasure from her body. Orgasms on her own were fine but they didn’t feel quite like what she remembered from her younger days, which she hoped was a lack of technique rather than some sad evolution of her sex drive over the years. 

It was normal to be horny when you’d been phoning it in on sex for years to convince yourself and your lying cheating bastard husband that everything was fine. It was ok not to want some close companionship when she’d been so completely betrayed and just wanted to support herself right now. It was perfectly healthy to be a woman in her mid-30s with no active sexual life to long for a good one. Regardless of what her mom said, thirty-five was not that old, and she would remind herself of that as many times as she needed to, because it was hard to remember sometimes. Tim had been ten years older than her and so often she forgot her own age. If you’d asked her, she would have said 40 without thinking about it but she wasn’t even 40 yet and it was time to reclaim that freedom to discover herself she had missed out on in her twenties.

Maybe it was even time to make some semi-reckless choices, chase what she was interested in just for the selfish thrill of it, not settle for anything less than her own happiness. 

Which right now meant she wasn’t going to call James, or Matthew, even though she had both their numbers now, nor meet with Shirleen Eckle’s son. 

But she was going to call Alicia and ask if she could show Grace the ropes for how to meet a safe, generous, clean, attractive guy who might be interested in showing a girl a good time, no strings attached. She didn’t want a widower to wonder if she was love at first sight for him, she just wanted to get fucked without worries or overthinking or expectations or risk of getting hurt or catching an STD or…

How do people do this beyond their idiotic twenties, she wondered, instantly backpedaling from reckless. You had to be willing to have some bad nights and mistakes and maybe a little chlamydia, was that right? She didn’t want a little chlamydia… Was she asking for too much?

Ok. Time to ask Alicia for help.

It was impossible to see beyond the first two rows of the bar; The Sand Bar had the stage lights way brighter than they needed to be. It was brutally hot because of them, even though the night had cooled off once the sun went down, and the ground was stickier, and the air smelled of salt and Malibu and weed. Jungkook laughed and shook his sweaty hair out of his face, smeared the beads of it from his chin and neck where they tickled in between songs. He’d been growing his hair out –for the look and to save on haircuts– but it wasn’t long enough yet to pull back, just long enough to drive him nuts. 

There was no way to know for sure if Grace had come, but he suspected she hadn’t. The small chance she had, that he couldn’t prove it because he couldn’t see beyond the stage lights, at least let him cling to the fantasy. Just for fun. He poured his heart, soul, and sweat into the drumming that night, did his best chatter in between songs even though he was often the silent mumbly type and let Taro and Yoongi handle the banter. He felt compelled to be his best, not only in case Grace was there watching, but also because Yoongi had put his foot down on Jungkook’s behalf and insisted they keep the Benson Boone song in the set when Taro tried to cut it right before, claiming it would make them run over. It wasn’t even the last song in the set but god fucking forbid they cut one of her favorites.

The song stayed. It brought the house down, Jungkook didn’t think it was too cocky in saying. It was at the height of radio play right now, and a slight departure from the rest of their set, just enough to catch attention and bring back any wandering interest. Drumming and singing lead was a challenge but he felt like he nailed it, felt the victory of it humming through his blood and buzzing behind his eyes and warming his ears. There was no high in the world like playing live music on stage except maybe the short ride of a killer wave, but that was over and done with so fast. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he told Haewon.

“Nailed it,” Jimin told him, clapping him on the back and handing him a beer as soon as he walked off stage. Jimin wasn’t the only one, there were so many hands and fluttery grins and a true throng of people who circled them once they hauled their personal gear off stage to make room for the next act. 

“Bet they regret not asking you to headline,” Taehyung said, which meant a lot to Jungkook and the others too, he thought. It certainly did to him, capped only by Yoongi clinking his beer against Jungkook’s and nodding,

“You fucked that song good. Glad we kept it.”

“Yeah me too. Stop trying to cut my stuff, Elizabeth,” he called over to her. She scowled and flipped him the bird, but a moment later draped herself over his shoulder.

“I admit it. It was great. It’ll be too played out for Flowerfest but you did good.”

“It’s too new to be played out,” Jungkook argued, even though it wouldn’t be on theme for Flowerfest anyway so he hadn’t been going to suggest it. “We should keep it in our set for a while.”

Soyoon nudged his arm and beamed, “I agree. Think you got quite a fan following, JK, why don’t you go talk to them?” She gave Jungkook a hard shove away from their group, towards several women who did in fact seem to be waiting to talk to him.

But for the briefest moment, he thought he saw Grace across the bar. It couldn’t be her… right? But it might be, he really thought so much that it might be her that he found himself missing whatever the closest woman said to him, just didn’t hear her completely, even though the next band was still setting up.

“Sorry, excuse me, I think I see a friend…” he muttered and walked right past them. Was that what Soyoon meant? But Soyoon didn’t know who Grace was. He felt a weird flip in his chest as he pushed his way through the crowd to where he’d seen her. It wasn’t really her, was it? She wouldn’t really come. 

Oh fuck what if she did come to his show. What if she’d just seen that performance for real? Thank fuck it was a good one! He could be proud of that. He hoped she’d be impressed. He hoped she’d lean in close to tell him how good he did, and he’d touch her arm to keep her close so she could hear him offer to buy her a drink and thank her for coming and say how great it was that she’d come. 

What did it mean if she came? Just that she wanted a night out, now that she was single? Maybe it would depend if she’d come alone or brought friends. If she brought friends, she just wanted to listen to good music, and he’d delivered. If she came alone…

He took several gulps of his beer as he reached the spot and looked around. She wasn’t here now. He turned and traced the path he’d taken, wanting to be sure they hadn’t just missed each other. 

If she’d come alone, he’d buy her a drink and slowly lead her out to the part of the bar that spilled into the sand, so they could have some more space and talk. He wanted to hear what she thought. Maybe he’d suggest a walk, if it seemed like she wanted to get out of there. No, if she wanted to get out of there… well, his place was closer but no way could he take a woman like that to his bachelor rental.

He was getting way ahead of himself. Grace hadn’t come to his show to start something with him just because he’d fixed her pool. At best, maybe she came to listen to music and flirt a bit. At best best, maybe they’d drink together for a while, get closer, at most he’d put light moves on her –unless she wanted to start something… but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t start something with him. Unless…?

No, he was being stupid and hopeful based on nothing but beer and the adrenaline surge from coming off stage. He still felt the thud of the drum through his body and it made him want to feel a different kind of vibration, a more intimate collision. He craned his neck and looked around, trying to find her again, trying to ignore how ready and willing his body was to transition from stage adrenaline to beautiful woman adrenaline.

“Hi,” he barely made out as a hand lightly touched his back. He spun, only to be confronted with someone else, one of the women who’d been hanging out closer to the stage. Not Grace.

“Hi,” he returned. “Hey, did you see a woman around here, about this tall, like brown and blonde hair…” He trailed off, realizing he could be describing half the women in the bar. The woman looked confused and told him no, as if she couldn’t see half the women in the bar.

“Damnit,” he mumbled and stretched to look again, but he wasn’t seeing her now– oh! Wait, there?!

But the woman he’d spotted turned, and it wasn’t Grace, not even close. And now he felt more sure that’s who he had seen and gotten hopeful, confused. 

Fucking fuck.

Yeah, no, but of course she hadn’t come. This wasn’t the kind of place she would hang out on a Saturday evening. She’d said she would keep it in mind, not that she’d actually come. She was probably at a wine tasting or a steak house or a private club along the nice parts of the beach tonight.

He got the impulse to text her, tease her about missing the song. But of course he didn’t know her like that, they didn’t have that kind of familiarity, and he didn’t have her number. Well, technically it was in her file, but not in his phone. Sure, she’d put Neosporin on his cat scratches, but that was it. They weren’t a thing. Obviously they weren’t a thing, because it was Mara he’d bumped two days ago, not Grace.

Could Mara tell he’d been thinking about someone else when he closed his eyes? Now he worried, wondered if that was why she had blocked him afterwards. 

This was getting out of hand. He’d said before he needed to fuck whatever little crush he had out of his system and he was right, it needed to happen. If Grace had any interest in him, she would have come to see the show he directly invited her to. It had all only ever been in his head, whatever little flirtation he’d had with her, and now he was done fixing her pool so even that was done. He’d see her every two weeks to clean her pool and she’d leave some Cheetos out for him like he was a squirrel and that was that.

The woman was talking to him, he realized belatedly. He hadn’t heard a word. But she was attractive and tall and she had nice shoulders and long legs.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he blurted out. Might as well make a move to get over his disappointment that Grace was in fact not the one here praising his performance.

The woman gave him a baffled look and said, “Um, no, as I was saying, I work for a clothing brand and I wanted to talk to you about some promotional outfits because your style is perfect.”

“Oh yeah, right, sorry, I meant so I can hear you better,” he flubbed a cover. “Why don’t you, um, email me? It’s hard to talk business in here.”

That seemed like the right thing to say, though he wasn’t sure she was actually going to follow through. Nothing worse than thinking a hot woman was hitting on you and realizing you were dead wrong. She was just trying to sell some shit. No, to get you to sell her shit.

Eesh. His ego needed a quick recovery so he wound his way back to his friends, one eye partially on the lookout for Grace but he was pretty certain by now he had imagined the whole thing. He wasn’t going to cry about it, but it was disappointing. She would have liked the show.

“My beer is empty,” he realized, holding up the empty glass he’d chugged through his embarrassment. 

“Buy me another!” Corri called, waving her hand at Jungkook.

He made a face and snorted, “Yeah right, you can come with me and buy your own.”

“Charming.”

“I’m not trying to charm you, make Taro buy you a drink.”

Corri’s eyes got really wide like he’d said something shocking or horrific, which he couldn’t figure out. 

Before he could think too much about it, Hoseok had draped his arms over Jungkook’s shoulders and practically shouted in his ear, “I’ll go with you!”

“Hey don’t hang on him,” Jimin scowled and grabbed Hoseok’s arm. “People are going to think you’re his boyfriend.”

“Then he’ll never get laid,” Taehyung sagely agreed. 

“At least not by the people he wants to get laid by… you’d do numbers in a gay club, you know,” Jimin told him, not for the first time. Which Jungkook was obviously flattered by, even if the thought of being intimate with a dick left him absolutely and utterly blank. It wasn’t even a recoil, it’s just that it was a dick, what was sexy or appealing about it? The only good thing about a dick was getting his own sucked or fucked. Probably he could give a pretty good handjob, he’d thought of that before because he was familiar with his own, but it wouldn’t be gratifying to him. 

Belatedly he added, “I did just get laid, so I don’t even care tonight. There’s more to life than fucking, you know.”

“Who’d you get laid by?” Jimin pressed, instantly interested.

“He spent the night with Mara,” Taehyung answered before Jungkook’s mouth even opened.

“How did you know?!”

“You always come back from her place kind of sulky.”

“No, man, that’s not true.”

Jimin and Taehyung both nodded though, and Hoseok, sliding off of him, agreed, “You do. Doesn’t seem like it’s very good sex.”

“That’s probably why you played so well tonight. Sexual frustration,” Soyoon teased, taking Jungkook’s empty bottle and setting it with others on a nearby table. “The worst kind, because you got it but the getting was not good enough.”

“It was sex! What’s not good enough about it?” But even as he said it, because he felt like he needed to defend himself, he also knew exactly what they were talking about. Sex with Mara didn’t feel like it counted. Sure, it was release, it was good in that sense. She was fine. He’d been satisfied at the time. Once he’d thought she was pretty good. It was better than masturbating and it didn’t require much from him since she initiated, but he wasn’t exactly broken up that she’d blocked him and there would never be another round. He’d been thinking of another woman during it anyway.

“I’m not sexually frustrated,” he argued, “and that doesn’t impact my drumming.”

“I think he drums better when he’s been well laid,” Yoongi argued, his only contribution. “He’s a little rushed when he’s frustrated.”

“Yeah, and I was fine tonight,” Jungkook agreed.

“A little rushed,” Yoongi beamed, then disappeared, clearly heading for the bar for another beer and then to make his escape to the outskirts, away from the crowd. That’s where Jungkook wanted to be too. He didn’t feel like talking about sex anymore; was that all they talked about?  

“You’re all assholes, I’m getting another beer,” he said, and turned to follow in Yoongi’s wake. Jimin grabbed the back of his shirt to follow along like a tug boat, Hoseok behind him, all of them letting Jungkook fight his way through the crowd to their benefit. 

*

Jungkook lost count of the beers and the time but he forgot his disappointment and just coasted on the vibes of a fun bar on a Saturday night. Eventually he was all laughter and smiles, easy-going, carefree, riding the high of a good performance and the handful of hot, flirty women it brought into his periphery. After striking out hard with the woman earlier when he was all distracted by the thought of Grace, he didn’t push for anything and mostly just stuck with his friends, but it at least bandaged his ego. See? Girls thought he was hot, even if Grace was unimpressed.

Damn, he wished he could impress her.

But he didn’t, and he really needed to stop thinking about her or it would turn into something pathetic like pining. He was not the kind of guy who pined. If something wasn’t working out, cut your losses and roll on. Pining led to disappointment and dissatisfaction and those things led to depression or drugs or both and that led to your family crying at your memorial every year.

What a relief that just as Jungkook started to get introspective, Hoseok jumped on his back and off they gallivanted to the sandy beach for an impromptu drunk volleyball game. Other friends had joined, Jungkook was surrounded now by people he liked, people he could just relax and have a good time with. Even when Seokjin accidentally hit the ball backwards, directly into Jungkook’s face, it was funny and it didn’t hurt too bad despite his watering eyes.

He took it as an excuse to collapse on the sand for a break. It was the kind of early summer night that had him sweating and shivering at the same time, a cool breeze tickling the sweat on his skin. 

Nearby a gaggle of girls were sitting, clearly drunk and loud. One kept looking at him; he wasn’t sure how long it took him to become aware of it, but she was drunk and slow to look away, and erupted into giggles when he nodded his head at her. Instantly he regretted it; she looked young, probably Haewon’s age, and the older he got, the older his lower age limit was. He didn’t understand guys who wanted to fuck girls who couldn’t even legally drink yet. Couldn’t be him. The last thing he wanted was some young giggly drunk college girl right now, just thinking about it made his dick limper than limp. Nineteen was for baby sisters. 

Two other women walked in front of him, headed towards the water, and his gaze was drawn immediately and entirely towards them and the way moonlight and beach lights glinted off their long dark legs. They had a confidence, an attitude to them; they had lived at least as many years as he had and he found himself drawn to that so much that it got him to his feet, walking after them to wade in the water a couple yards away.

He should just go over to them. He should flirt, be his best charming self. Ask if they’d seen the show, since they’d come from the bar. Lead the subject around to his drumming, see if they were into that, make a couple jokes laced with innuendo to see if they nibbled. If they did, it was an opening, an opportunity they’d be down to nibble something else later tonight, at least one of them. On a night like tonight, he could have good luck finding a new woman to fuck for a night, even if that’s where it ended. There was nothing wrong with a night of fun when you could string them together. Mara was out but he could find a new woman to enter rotation, yeah? Maybe one of those women, and he’d have a great time and so would she, and that was all that mattered. Some people in life had these over-arching purposes like Haewon, and others had purpose though a person or relationship like his eomma and appa, or maybe even Jimin and Hoseok because they’d been together for a while now, and the rest of them were just living life and having fun and fucking around and there didn’t have to be any bigger reason for it and he was cool with that! He didn’t need more than that and he wasn’t just saying that, he was satisfied. He could die tomorrow and he would feel like he’d lived the best life he could, given the circumstances. Sure, he could have lived better with a million dollars and no stress and a girlfriend, but c’est la vie or whatever. That was about all he remembered from high school French, which he had taken because there were more girls than the Spanish classes.

“Hey, aren’t you the drummer for the band earlier?” one of the women asked, suddenly noticing him.

He grinned, internally pumping his fist, and drawled, “Yeah… you ladies like the show?”

“It was amazing– oh my god, how old are you? You look really young,” one said and the fist pump turned into a shake at the heavens. 

“I’m twenty-six, damn, you sure know how to flatter a guy,” he snorted. They couldn’t see his body in the low light, probably only his big beady eyes that yes, he was aware made him look younger. 

“Oh my god, sorry, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing!”

Annoying. Women didn’t think he looked so young once he took his shirt off, but he had a youthful face, whatever. Old women loved it! Younger women didn’t mind! 

“I bet you say that to every Asian guy you meet,” he joked. “You need a new pickup line.” The woman who said it looked shocked, but the other one was unbothered and smiling at him now in a way that still looked like it could be an open door. He might be able to land this one, and end his night balls-deep in a hot woman who had seen his show and enjoyed it. He wouldn’t let his mind wander like he did with Mediocre Mara. That was a mistake. He shouldn’t have bothered with her just because she was easy sex, so he thought right now when presented with more challenging sex that would therefore be more satisfying. Probably. 

Besides, maybe his friends were right, maybe even Haewon had accidentally been right without even knowing what she was talking about: who wanted to have sex with someone you knew didn’t really like you? He was an easy lay for Mara and that was fine because it was easy for him too but… but something was missing. His friends were right, he was sexually frustrated. Mara was right too, she was too same-old for him. He needed someone new and exciting, someone who thought he was hot and cool and really admired him. It had been a while since he’d fucked someone new and exciting. He wasn’t the kind of guy who tracked the weeks any more than he was the kind of guy who kept a body count, but it had been too long. He couldn’t have told you how many women he’d been with if his life depended on it –which women had, and he made up a number based on what he thought they wanted to hear, but he always got it wrong in the end but he suspected they were usually looking for a way out by that point anyway. Which was cool, some people were meant for sticking or being stuck to and maybe he just wasn’t that person. The sticking kind. 

He really, really hoped that someday he would be somebody’s sticking kind and that it would be worth the wait. 

They were asking him about music, about instruments, about drumming technique. Jungkook smiled and nodded and flirted and ignored this weird part of his brain that kept tapping him on the shoulder. He didn’t want to hear what it said. He didn’t want to overthink this. He was cool, casual, slightly drunk Jungkook, he’d just go with the flow. The love of your life had to start somewhere, right? When you least expected it?

“So what do you do during the day?” one of the women asked. “Or is this your full time gig?”

Aw shit.

Jungkook wished desperately he had something cooler to say than the truth, and many a failed date slithered up to his shoulders, but he wasn’t the sort of guy who would lie for pussy. 

“I’m a lifeguard and a pool technician,” he answered with a confident nod. 

“Ohhh,” they said, almost identical intonation. This, this was the problem, and he refused to let it make him bitter but it was starting to make a dent. Women his age in this town didn’t want blue collar, they wanted white collar, or at least something sexy like I’m waiting tables because I want to be an actor or a model. 

“That’s … cool. You must like to swim.” He could feel their eyes slide down and then back up. 

“Yeah, I spend all my free time at the beach. I surf a lot.”

Sometimes that worked, but this time it did not. He could practically see their attention melting away.

“Cool,” one said. And Jungkook sighed. Honestly he didn’t even think he could salvage sex out of this, and there was definitely no budding romantic connection. Time to cut his losses and salvage his dignity. Which was fine, he’d had sex last night. If he was really eager, he could wander back to the stage and let a woman approach him and do most of the talking, that tended to work pretty well. Not for dates, granted, but if all he wanted was someone to go home with, it panned out sometimes. 

His friends cheered over the game behind him and Jungkook got the restless feeling in his gut that he wanted to be anywhere but right here right now.  

“Well I’m glad you both liked the show,” he beamed at them. “Hope you have a nice rest of your night.” He could see they were surprised by the abrupt departure but that didn’t stop him from turning and jogging over to jump onto Seokjin’s back just as the game was breaking up and demand, “What’s everyone doing? Where are we going?”

“Oh, aren’t you going home with one of those chicks?” 

“Nah, I want to hit the beach early tomorrow. We calling it a night or going somewhere else?”

“You’re going to surf in the morning?” Seokjin laughed. “Won’t you be hungover?”

“I rarely get those.”

“Damn. Youth,” Seokjin sighed. “You won’t see me.”

“I’ve got work,” Hoseok sighed and flopped down on the sand. “Why can’t I be a kept man?”

Jimin laughed and kicked his leg, “Why can’t I be the kept man? You’re more capable than I am, you have to work.”

“We could both be the kept man.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s keeping us?”

“I’d keep you if I could,” Jungkook said grandly. “If I had a million dollars, none of us would have to work and we could just live like this all the time.”

“A million dollars really isn’t that much money,” Soyoon pointed out. She hadn’t been playing volleyball; Jungkook thought she had already left with Yoongi and was surprised to see her saunter over now. “You could take everyone on like one nice vacation.”

“Ok, I’d do that then,” Jungkook decided.

“Awww are you drunk and sentimental now? Is that why you bailed on ass to come back and roll around with us?” Jimin asked, curling around Jungkook’s feet and trying to drag him down. Jungkook easily lifted Jimin up, making him flail and shriek with laughter as Jungkook spun him in a circle and then tossed him back down with Hoseok.

“‘I’m not sentimental, I’m restless.”

“Yeah so go fuck one of those women.”

“Nah. Maybe I should take a break from sex for a while,” he mused. “It’s getting kind of boring.”

“Sex is… boring?”

“Bad sex is boring,” Soyoon snickered. “Bye for good Mara.”

“We talk about sex too much, it’s not that great. It always ends the same way. Let’s do something else tonight,” Jungkook insisted. 

“You’re kind of weird lately,” Taehyung laughed, squeezing Jungkook’s cheeks together. “Extra weird.”

“Nah, I’m cool. Let’s go.”

“Drinks and games at home?”

  “I’m going to Yoongi’s to smoke, if you want to join,” Soyoon shrugged. “And I’ve got my car and I’m sober to drive so…”

Jungkook didn’t really want to do that either, but he couldn’t put his finger on what he wanted to do. Maybe he didn’t even want to be surrounded by people right now but he didn’t want to be alone either, so being with his friends seemed like the next best thing, and he didn’t really want to go smoke at Yoongi’s place but that’s where everyone was headed so hey, he’d go with the flow. 

Maybe Taehyung was right, he was being a little weird. Usually he didn’t bounce around this way. Even his own thoughts were bouncy. It felt like he was just trying to pass the time until something… but what? There was nothing coming up in his life. He had no plans. He had no goals. There was no upcoming vacation or party or anything like that. Flowerfest, but it wasn’t that big a deal. Why did he have that weird tingle of anticipation in his belly –which would have made sense if he was still flirting with the girls and hoping to score with one tonight, but he’d backed out of that. 

Sex with Mara sure hadn’t fixed it, so fine, he’d see if weed with Yoongi did instead. 

“Shotgun!” he shouted and tore ahead to Soyoon’s car, barely slowed down when Jimin jumped onto his back. 

Nothing like a Tuesday morning spent across a table from Tim to ruin every modicum of contentment Grace had worked on for the last few days. Her weekend had been fine but busy bouncing between social engagements, followed by a perfectly fine Monday of work touring open houses with a client. Busy was good, she was busy with the things she wanted to be busy with. More exciting than that, she had already secured plans for Friday night out with Alicia, with Alicia’s guarantee Grace would end the night “fucked out beneath a hot guy.” Grace was desperately clinging to that promise because honestly she just needed some relief. Bonus points if the guy could want her, crave her, just be really overwhelmed with lust for her because damn did her self esteem need it right now.

“This is the breakdown of assets we agreed to take to the judge,” Lidiyah evenly reminded Tim and his lawyer. Robert Butts had the unfortunate appearance of looking like a butt with a deep cleft chin and jowls and only a thin layer of buzzed black hair, and looking at him filled Grace with rage because he was an idiot lawyer –Lidiyah had said it many times– intentionally saying and doing dumb shit to drag this whole thing out because that’s what Tim wanted. 

“My client wants to revisit the list. He doesn’t think it’s appropriate to include assets for distribution that your client never interacted with,” Robert Butts argued. Grace looked at the sheet of paper they had highlighted things on –the pool table, the stair master, the TV from Tim’s man cave. Even the fucking dart board which couldn’t have been more than $250. The craziest claims though were the ‘66 Chevy Corvette Stingray convertible and the Mercedes Maybach EQS SUV, which he claimed were his and only his because she had never driven the Mercedes and the Chevy Corvette should be considered a gift for his 40s or at least only appraised at the original sales price because he was the one who had “funded restoration.” (With joint funds!)

Grace saw red when she looked at the list, but looking at Tim would make her even angrier so she looked at her watch instead. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how angry he made her. She wanted to look like she was unbothered, like she didn’t care, like this was just a waste of her time.

“That’s not what division of assets means,” Lidiyah said again. “These assets were purchased with joint funds, including the Stingray. It does not matter who touched what items in the house for how many seconds.”

Today was just supposed to be a chance to finally agree on the list and both sign it so it could be brought before the judge as part of the official divorce proceedings. Today was not supposed to be a chance to reopen the list and argue over every fork and spoon.

Grace tapped Lidiyah’s arm and leaned close to whisper, “As much as I hate this, I don’t care about this anymore, just give him the shit and let’s sign it.”

“Give me one week to fix this,” Lidiyah argued, just as quietly. “If we budge on this, it gives him space to reopen other things. I would almost have gone in on the TV and pool table but not those fucking cars. That’s ludicrous.”

Grace didn’t want to give Lidiyah even one more week, even though she completely and totally agreed it was ludicrous. What next, claiming all the funds that had come from sale of the house and were currently sitting in escrow awaiting settlement? She was ready to burst, sitting in the room with Tim never directly addressing her made her so angry. How had she ever been married to this man? She had to believe he had changed, surely she would never have been so stupid to love someone this petty and stupid and selfish.

But Grace trusted her lawyer and sighed noisily, “Are you really this hard up for money, Tim?” It was a well placed blow; he immediately began to shout at her and Robert Butts dove in to quiet him down. 

“The list has to stand,” she argued. “If you really want to open it up further, my dad is going to want to revisit that loan he made which has never been paid back and which I think funded your Bentley alongside your career.”

“That was a gift!” Tim shouted. “An investment, not a loan!”

Lidiyah gave Grace a look, clearly annoyed Grace had poked, but she couldn’t stop herself. It was in Tim’s best interest that he stop dragging his feet about this and get it over with quick. In fact, her father had wanted to go after Tim for the money purely out of spite as soon as Grace told him about the divorce, but Grace knew Tim would fight it and it would slow things down. Now, since Tim was slowing things down so badly anyway, her strength was starting to waver. 

“You aren’t going to find it called anything but a loan in any of the paperwork,” Grace mused, settling back in her seat. Tim’s rage made her feel stronger. See? She had more power over him than he had over her.

She didn’t like the person this divorce was trying to make her.

Fortunately the appointment didn’t last much longer; Lidiyah called a stop to it, stating this was a waste of her and her client’s time if Tim and his lawyer were not there to move things forward in good faith. They could send over a counterproposal for the asset allotment if they wanted, but if it wasn’t received in 48 hours, Lidiyah and Grace would send one over.

“Which you will like even less than this one,” Grace added before Lidiyah ushered her from the room. 

“Don’t bait him, Grace,” her attorney reminded as they headed out to their cars. “Let him make an ass of himself.”

“At what point is he holding me hostage in this marriage?” Grace argued.

“I know. We’re getting closer.”

“Seriously, how long can he drag this out? I know you want the principle of it and I did too but I’m reaching my limit. At some point I don’t care about the money, I just want it all to go away.”

“What you don’t want is him trying to open the prenup,” Lidiyah reminded.

“He can’t. It’s ironclad.”

“He can try and it’ll drag this all out further.”

“So he has all the power right now. He can keep me from escaping –I just want to be free, Lidiyah.”

“I know. We’re getting closer. Just hang in there a little longer.”

Grace was tired of hanging in there. She got into her car and pulled a safe distance away with a plan to scream, just to get the bubble out of her chest. 

She couldn’t go through with it. She couldn’t be as ridiculous as Tim. Instead she clenched everything way down tight and squeezed her eyes shut until she stars on the back of her eyelids.

It was bad enough, everything Tim had done, but she genuinely felt like this was worse than the infidelity. He hadn’t wanted her, so why the hell wouldn’t he let her go?She’d changed her name, she had a completely separate life and finances now, but she still had to dedicate brain space to divorce, time to these meetings, significant money to her attorney, and hey, you wanted to talk about principle, she had to still live with the knowledge she was legally bound to him right now. She had filed every paperwork she could making her family her beneficiaries, her emergency contact, her health care proxy. She’d taken every step she could to sever ties with him and yet he still had a chain around her wrist and she was about ready to strangle herself with it just to be free.

Her driving homeward was not the best she’d ever done but she made it unscathed, music up loud as she tried to drown out her own anger. She growled low in her throat as the gate took too long to open, then promptly shut up when it revealed JK’s truck parked in the corner. Well wasn’t that the last thing she needed right now, someone on her property who she didn’t want to be a bitch to right when she felt like being the biggest most outrageous bitch to someone because the small jabs at Tim were just not enough.

She couldn’t see him and tried to look casual as she turned her music down and waited for the garage door to open, but she hit the gas too hard and then the breaks too hard pulling in and the squeal of the tires definitely didn’t sound casual. She also hadn’t actually turned the music down as much as she thought because when she turned the car off, the sudden silence left her ears ringing.

Maybe she could sneak inside without him realizing she was here?

She leapt out of her car, yanking her purse so hard it sent the contents spewing across the floor of the garage. She clenched everything in her body so as not to scream, but instead it made her eyes prickle with the threat of tears. She emitted a choked scream instead, trying to hold it in and let it out at the same time. It hurt her throat.

“Hey, you ok?” JK asked from the driveway. She turned slowly, wanting to make sure she did not let any of this rage escape in his direction. He didn’t deserve that, just for innocently asking how she was at a really bad time. And he was so innocent, so kind, he’d been so nice and harmless and even supportive in the small moments her personal life had bumped against their professional relationship. He looked so sincerely concerned now, like he could see she was on the verge of going supernova.

“I’m having a bad day,” she said, hoping that would be enough. He took a step closer and it was too much because he was so handsome and nice and had never done any of the shit Tim had done, why couldn’t she have met and married someone more like JK, huh? JK wouldn’t act like this in a divorce, a divorce he had caused, she was sure of it, because he probably wasn’t the kind of guy who’d be screwing around in the first place. Or maybe he was! She didn’t actually know him or anything about him and her gut about men was clearly broken and couldn’t be trusted and she was going to ask Alicia to just point her to someone safe and that would have to be enough for the rest of Grace’s life because she could never go through this again. There had never been a golden time with Tim that was worth it now. It was not better to have loved and lost. 

“Ah, sorry to hear that. You–” He broke off whatever he’d been going to say when she covered her face. Probably he thought she was going to cry. She wasn’t. She was trying not to scream again. She wanted to throw a tantrum like a toddler, she wanted to hit and scream and punch something –preferrably Tim’s stupid fucking face.

“Here here here, punch punch,” he suddenly said, voice urgent as he dove forward. 

“What?”

He’d held his hands up and insisted, “Punch, really hard!”

“What?!”

“Come on, you won’t hurt me, just do it, punch.”

“I’m not going to punch you–”

“It’s just sparring! Boxing is the best way to get that feeling out. Come on, I can see you’re tense as shit, it’ll help, just punch my hand.” 

“I don’t know how to–”

He grabbed her hand, curled her fingers with her thumb out, and warned, “Your nails might hurt your palm but… seems like maybe it’s worth it… come on, right here, just punch.” 

“JK, this is…” But he had his hands up waiting, and the explosive rage hadn’t left her yet, and in the back of her mind she remembered the childhood guidance to punch a pillow or slam a stuffed animal against the ground if you were angry. Who had told her that? She couldn’t remember. Certainly not her parents; rage wasn’t allowed; there was no reason or room for rage in their privileged lives.

She hauled back and punched his palm, or rather glanced off the heel of his hand. He caught her hand, nudged it to the side, and said,

“Try again. Turn your body this time, not just from your shoulder.”

She followed his instructions, throwing another punch he easily caught. Her nails did dig into her palm a bit.

“Good, twist on your toes, keep your feet planted.”

She didn’t know how to punch. She knew she looked stupid as shit, but he didn’t laugh even a little, just caught her next punch, and the next. The thud of her fist against his hand felt good, good in a crazy way she couldn’t explain unless she was secretly a violent person and just hadn’t known all this time. Even the sound of it was satisfying. JK caught each punch until she’d done probably ten and her hands were hurting and she tried punching with the left one but over-balanced and nearly toppled to the side.

“Ok, body compression?” he asked.

“What’s what?”

“Uh… a really tight… hug? No? I don’t want to… overstep…” he said, hands up, eyes wide. 

“I don’t know, will that help me not murder my still not quite ex fucking husband?” she spat out without meaning too, because the punching had helped but now she felt like an active live wire rather than an imploding one.

“Yah, I hope so, I just finished your pool, you can’t go to jail before you even swim in it,” he teased. She wasn’t in the mood for teasing yet, but apparently this was her support system right now and even though everything in her head screamed at her that she should just go inside and kick a pillow and keep her feelings private and professional until they passed– when JK stepped forward with open arms, she stayed put to see what this was. She didn’t want to be hugged right now. If he hugged her or said nice things, she was going to have to work really hard not to scream and kick him in the shins. 

“Yes?” he asked.

“Ok,” she said, not sure what she was actually agreeing to. She felt wild with anger and frustration as his arms wrapped around her, tighter and tighter. He even adjusted her arms, pinning them against her chest between them. Then he squeezed tight, far tighter than was comfortable for a hug, so tight that when he leaned back, it lifted her from the ground. His skin was flushed and sweaty, which she couldn’t miss with her chin right on his shoulder. His t shirt stretched around his shoulder muscles as he squeezed tighter, so tight it would be uncomfortable to breathe, so she just held her breath.

She suddenly went limp in his arms. She couldn’t have explained it, but the tight hold pulled her tighter and tighter and tighter until suddenly her body just decided ok, enough, relax. She collapsed against him, so suddenly he stepped to catch her unexpected ragdoll weight. For one brief moment, her cheek pressed to his neck, his hands splayed across her back, and it felt like a normal hug –exactly the thing thirty seconds ago she thought would make her scream, but now felt warm and strong and safe.

When his arm dipped lower to hold around her waist, she realized this had turned into an inappropriate hug and that her pool guy was not the right place to be getting emotional comfort and also not the right person to see her throw a tantrum. She quickly stepped back, tripping over her own feet as her spaghetti-legs tried to firm up. He held her arms to keep her steady and gave her the sunniest, sweetest smile that had no place on a day like this. It was disorienting. 

“What kind of hoodoo magic was that?” she stammered out.

“Ha, did it help?”

Her arms and legs tingled. Her back buzzed where his arms had pressed into it. Truthfully, she wished he would hold her tight like that again, maybe he could squash her down completely, legs too. Why did she want that?! She couldn’t explain it.

“You looked like you needed to punch something and I was worried you’d kick your car,” he said.

“I’m not a violent person.”

“Your ex makes me feel violent too.”

“He’s trying to completely break me in this divorce, fighting with me over nonsense,” she admitted. “He’s holding me hostage. I just want to be done with it.” She felt the anger rising again, the frustration, the helplessness. 

“You’ve probably got a really good lawyer, right? You’ll be done soon.”

“I wanted to take the high road and instead he’s twisting me into this… violent, awful person,” she fretted.

“Eh, I don’t think that’s true. Needing to punch something is just like… that’s just physical, that’s just like fucking. You just need to get it out of your system when your body wants to… you know, uh… hey, want me to slash his tires?”

Grace stared at him, tugged all over by what he had just said. There was almost a kernel of wisdom in the first part, she thought. Maybe he was right. Fucking, punching, was any of it really that different from needing to go on a run or work out really hard? She needed the adrenaline out. Maybe that’s why her body had been so horny lately too, maybe she’d just been running too high for too long and her body needed to vent something besides tears. That would explain why her horniness had nothing to do with love or romance, she just wanted to get railed. Right now. If only–

“Oh my god you can’t slash his tires,” she gasped, the last bit catching up to her. 

“I was kidding. Mostly.”

“I’m serious, you of all people have to stay away from him.”

“Me? Why me of all people?”

“He doesn’t know you took the video and I have worked hard to make sure it stays that way,” she insisted. “God, the last thing I need is him coming after you.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine.”

She rolled her eyes and, impulsively, gave a hard shove against his chest that barely budged him as she scolded, “I’m serious, JK. I don’t need a misguided knight in shining armor. Don’t be like that.”

“What do you need instead?” he asked, eyebrow arched. Grace’s brain short-circuited. Yeah if you could just bend me over that patio table there and fuck me senseless, I think I’d be set for the day. His chest had felt hard beneath her palms, was that why her brain had leapt right there? 

“Why are you here today?” she asked instead. Then, considering it might have sounded excessively rude, she added, “Not that I’m not always glad to see you.”

He clapped his hand to his chest and laughed like he was playing along with a joke, and reminded, “I told you I’d be back to check your pool.”

“Oh, right. Need to show me anything?”

“Sure… want help cleaning up your stuff first?” he asked, and made to step around her. She couldn’t bear to watch him stoop to pick up her lipstick and kleenexes and keys from the ground though. That shit could stay down there, she was so angry at her purse for betraying her like that.

“Leave it,” she said, catching his arm, “I’ll deal with it later.”

“You might forget and run over your… diamond-encrusted lipstick,” he said, turning the tube over in his hand, the Swarovski crystal one her sister had given her for Christmas one year. Honestly she hated it, hence why it spent its days lurking in the bottom of her purse, forgotten. Jungkook popped it open and mused, “Bright red. That’s a good color.”

“I’ve never even worn it,” she sighed and grabbed it from hands to close it and tossed it back in the direction of her purse. She’d never worn it because Tim didn’t like that color, he thought it was too attention-seeking. “Whorish” was the word he’d used, actually. He liked darker shades which she didn’t think flattered her but she’d worn them anyway, trying to be the kind of wife who was adored by her husband. 

“Yeah and you never will if you run over it.”

“I’ve dealt with enough consequences for one day,” she sighed. 

“Ok ok. Need to punch some more?” he offered, hands going up.

She felt stupid to have let him goad her into that now. How silly. How immature. JK really just saw the worst of her all the time, didn’t he? It was mortifying, and now she felt her face heating up and a desperate urge for him to leave so she could be alone in her embarrassment.

“Just show me the pool please,” she asked, because she wasn’t sure how else to hurry him along. 

“You got it,” he said, probably thinking she was crazy. She trailed him across the patio and down the path to the pool, which looked like a heavenly oasis, sparkling under the sunlight filtering through the trees. Once there he turned to her and motioned with his hands like she’d won a prize. “Your pool.” When she just stared, confused, he admitted, “I didn’t need to show you anything about it. I just came by to check everything and it looks perfect. I did a good job.”

“You did a great job,” she agreed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Have you used it yet? Any concerns or problems?”

Her sigh was probably answer enough as she admitted, “No, I haven’t even gotten to use it yet.” 

“Well why not? You spent a lot of money on this thing.”

“I know, and you worked really hard.”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I’d have been in this the second the pool guy drove away!”

“I mean to be, I just got… busy…” Busy maintaining social connections that were more important to her mother than to herself right now. Busy working on the house like she was in a rush to please someone other than herself. Busy trying to figure out a new normal that still somehow was not actually putting her needs first. 

“You’re right,” she said. “Why the hell not?”

 She then promptly leapt into the pool, fully clothed, one sandal dangling from her toes until the water swallowed her and carried it away. The water was cool, crystal clear, so clean she could see JK’s rippling figure leaning over the edge of the pool, staring down at her. She erupted up through the surface, her blouse and hair billowing around her. 

“You really did that, huh?” he laughed. 

“Yeah why not? It’s my pool, right? I can swim in it whenever I want.”

“Yeah.”

“Stop looking at me like I’m crazy,” she complained and splashed him, water arcing across his legs. “I guess I’m a little crazy today.”

“You’re not crazy. I worked fucking hard on this pool, I want you to enjoy it. Fully clothed? Ok, whatever you want.”

She didn’t know what came over her. Madness, recklessness, it didn’t matter. She splashed him again and demanded, “You come in too.”

“Me, huh?”

“You worked so hard on this pool. Come on in if you want. Or don’t! It’s whatever you want, JK. Do whatever you want. It’s a nice pool though, isn’t it? This pool guy I hired did an amazing job on it.”

She ducked under the water to push her hair back, wishing she had clipped or tied it today instead of leaving it down. She surfaced just in time for him to sail over her and land ass-first, sending a wave right into her face. She yelped and splashed back at him as soon as he surfaced. 

“I didn’t say drown me!” she laughed.

“Oh you can dish it out but you can’t take it, huh?” he shouted back, paddling his hands to spectacularly outdo her attack. 

“I can take it just fine, I–” she broke off as too much talking earned her a mouthful of water. They were like children, she felt juvenile and free and buoyant and couldn’t stop laughing long enough to clear the water from her nose and mouth. Suddenly he was gone again beneath the surface, the blue of his t-shirt and board shorts blending in with the pool tile. His dark hair stood out though, easily tracked as he surfaced right beside her, a hand sliding up her body to catch her arm.

Grace was not ignorant to the thrill that ran up her spine with his touch. She chalked it up to the crazy behavior of jumping into her pool fully clothed and inviting the pool guy to swim with her.

“What’s that? You’re drowning?” he asked. “I’m a lifeguard, you know.”

“I said you were drowning me–”

“I’ll save you!” he promised and caught her around the waist and dragged her to the shallow water. 

“JK!” she laughed, grabbing at his arm, fingers sliding across smooth, firm muscle. Damn. Did she curl around him playfully, just because she could? She did, grabbing his other shoulder, remembering how tightly he’d squeezed her not long ago. It took him so little effort to carry her along. His arms felt like warm, strong steel beneath her fingers. The water churned around the twist of their bodies.

She was pretty crazy today, but he was sort of a strange person too, constantly ignoring proper boundaries and behavior anyway, so maybe it didn’t matter!

“I’m not drowning you, your shirt is. Dry clean only?” he guessed.

“Oops yeah,” she laughed. He wasn’t wrong about either account; the gauzy material flowed around them, clinging to both their bodies, ballooning uselessly and transparently. She had wanted to look professional and perfect and proper at the meeting with Tim and for why? It didn’t matter at all. Now it clung too tight around her neck and shoulders and she tried to peel the ruffles off her skin.

“Need some help with that? I’m a lifeguard, ma’am,” he reminded, in such a low and serious voice that she burst into laughter. 

“Are you actually a lifeguard? They don’t sound like that.”

“Yes I’m– I’m actually a lifeguard,” he cried, suddenly so openly insulted that she doubled over. “I save lives!”

“How many lives have you saved?”

“So many, Grace!”

It was the combination, the fact that he’d shouted her name, the fact that he was insisting he was a life saver, the fact he couldn’t keep a straight face –she couldn’t stand it. Tears rolled down her cheeks, she laughed so hard as she battled her own clothing. At least her skirt was loose and less bothersome as it twined around her knees, unlike the shirt showing every ridge of her lace bra.

“So many!” she repeated. “Are you sure they aren’t just faking?”

His voice dropped again, lowered as his body rose from the water beside her, as he demanded, “Why? Why? Women don’t fake it with me. Don’t fake anything with me.”

“I would never,” she vowed, giggling nervously because he was suddenly so close. Women don’t fake it with me. Yeah they probably didn’t need to. JK seemed like the kind of guy who knew how to wring pleasure from a woman. “I meant faking drowning to get mouth to mouth from you,” she quickly clarified. 

“You think so?” he asked, cocky grin, lifted eyebrow, water cascading from glistening arms making her head spin as he pushed his hair out of his face. One of his sleeves had bunched up, showing off more of his shoulder and tattoo and one little very loud corner of Grace’s brain suggested lick the water off. Jungkook sank down on the step beside her and playfully demanded, “You need mouth to mouth? Nearly drowning?”

“Yeah, I might be drowning,” she mumbled without weighing her own words and leaned in without thinking of the consequences of her actions. 

He’d asked the leading question but she kissed him first, she was sure of it –as sure as he was that he’d kissed first, something they could argue about forever. In the moment though there was no first or second, only joined mouths and wet bodies suddenly pressed together as dripping hands pulled at drenched clothing and skin, tangled in hair with every caress. His fingers dug into her back, holding her so tight against his body she lost herself for a moment, lost her mind, lost all sense of time. Until the tug of her blouse disrupted her, tangled in the friction of their bodies until the neckline was chafing her neck.

“Wait, wait,” she gasped and instantly he sprang away. It gave her just the space she needed to grab the ruined fabric and try to wrestle it up over her head, where it tangled in her hair and around her ears. It was his hands that unhooked it, slid it free, and threw it to the ledge of the pool. She reached for his shirt too, then stopped her fingers just as they gripped the fabric. No, oops, too far, too fast. 

He kissed her again in her moment of hesitation, and murmured against her mouth, “You want it off, take it off.”

So she did, eyes blatantly ogling as he helped her drag the shirt over his head and send it arcing through the air as well. So much naturally sun-kissed skin wrapped around her as she slid her hands up his shoulders, his dipping around her waist, pulling her flush against him again. It felt like his skin radiated sunlight, she could feel it rising through her palms and washing through her body. His fingers burned wherever they touched her, his lips dragged away all thoughts of breathing.  

Should she stop this? 

She should stop this. 

She couldn’t stop this because she didn’t want to stop this.

His mouth pulled the sweetest sigh from hers, and his arms were so warm and tight around her, and frankly her body was on fire right now, held together only by him, like he had compressed her earlier and now unraveled her. She didn’t want to stop this. JK’s thumb tilted her chin up so his lips could trail down her throat and all she could do was wrap her legs around his waist so the water would stop dragging them apart and moan at what it felt like to be desired. It had been so long since anyone had grabbed her like this, kissed her like this.  

She swore he called her beautiful, swore he nipped the word into the skin of her throat as she let her head fall back. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hip and thigh, exposed by her floating loose skirt. She didn’t know if he was trying to pull her but she ground against him anyway, seeking the friction her body desperately wanted. 

He moved higher in the pool, dragging her into his lap until they became a tangle of arms and legs, lips clashing, needy sighs churning around the water.

“Hey,” he said around the kisses he didn’t seem any more eager to stop. “Hey, hey.”

“Hmm?”

He made a noise somewhere between a hiss and a groan as she rocked her body mindlessly against his, only this time angled in such a way she felt him between them, felt his body’s response to all of this. She wanted that, wanted it so badly that the only thing she could think to do was rub against him again, grinding the ache between her legs against his hardness.

“Hey, baby,” he interrupted, and this time lifted her, holding her above his lap in the water, his fingers digging into her thighs. Getting called baby by this smug twenty-something was as disorienting as the realization she may have just gone too far and made a fool of herself.

“Oh god, I’m so–”

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked her, and licked his swollen lips, chest heaving. He stared at her with dark eyes burning in a flushed face.  

All the way. All the fucking way, she stopped herself from screaming. Her palms burned on his shoulders, her body ached for him, for fulfillment, for release. It had been so long since someone had done it for her, something more than the easy underwhelming release of a vibrator, and here was the hottest man she’d ever had her hands on holding her by the bare thighs asking her what she wanted and she didn’t trust herself to answer that she wouldn’t sound like an idiot. 

She felt the shift as he started to lower her to the side, as he kindly suggested, “If you need to think about it we can–”

“I don’t know how to say it,” she admitted with a nervous smile, aware that something important dangled by a thread right now and she may not be smooth enough to pull it off.

“Say what?” he asked. His expression immediately shifted into a smile. His muscles twitched as he changed direction, pulling her closer again –but not quite, not close enough. “Just say it.”

“I…” It was mean, this teasing. He knew he was teasing, she could see it in his face, could feel it in the way he pushed her away again, sliding her back and forth in the water. Taunting her. It made her want to kick him. It made her feel crazy. It made her want to bite him and kiss him harder and latch on so he couldn’t push her away until she’d had her way with him, until she was left spent and exhausted on the edge of the pool.

“You look so shy,” he teased. “It’s cute. No one’s ever made you ask for it before?”

“I guess not...”

“Ha!” He threw his head back. “I knew it. Pretty girl used to getting what she wants, when she wants it.”

“That’s not true,” she scowled. 

“Never has to ask to be dicked down. Well you have to ask me,” he said, pulling her close, so close she could almost press against him. She was hungry for him, but not sure about this power play, this bossiness. He was in her pool, and it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be getting something out of this. He knew she’d just got out of a terrible marriage where she did not get what she wanted, when she wanted it. He had to know she was wildly out of practice in the art of seduction and had no clue what she was doing and hadn’t even been properly fucked in years. 

“If it’s such a favor I have to beg then–”

He yanked her close and this time ground himself against her, nearly making her eyes roll back as he breathed into her ear, “I want you so fucking bad, but I’ve held off this long so I can wait as long as it takes for you to really want it.”

Was he lying? Did he mean that? How long? If he was just saying what she wanted to hear, she didn’t care. He was playing his part perfectly.

“Stop holding back,” she insisted and slid her mouth along his jaw and nipped at his earlobe. His fingers dug painfully into her ass, dragging her across the hard ridge in his board shorts. She heard his breath stutter in his chest and thrilled that she’d be affecting him this way. It didn’t matter if she was one of a hundred women he’d spoken to like this, she had him worked up in the pool, she had him hard and wanting, and her body thrummed with anticipation. She refused to be intimidated by his little display of dominance.

“Come on,” she teased this time, grinding again. “If you want me so bad.”

“But what do you want?”

“You’re so mean,” she complained, and bit his ear, wishing he would just do it already. “A bully…”

“I’m a bully?” He grabbed the fabric of her skirt suddenly and rocked more quickly against her, both of them groaning at the contact even though it felt too sluggish, too muted by the water to be just right, but so close. “You’ve got me ready to bust in my board shorts, you’ve got us both aching, all because you’re too proud to admit you want to be fucked by the pool guy.”

Was she too proud? Pride wasn’t the issue. Fear was holding her back, it would keep holding her back from every opportunity that crossed her path if she kept being like this. If she wanted a safe man for her first time, JK was as good as it was going to get. He’d already seen her shame, would it be ok for him to see her need to? Could he be trusted with yet another secret? He hadn’t held the others against her.

“Please fuck me,” she gasped. “God, I just want to be fucked. Will you?”

He kissed her hard as he pushed her through the water, so hard she saw stars before she could catch her breath, not until the ledge of the pool pressed against her back. His mouth was hungry against hers, like she really had turned the key to unleash them both. She grabbed his head to hold him steady, to kiss him back more, but he escaped and kissed down her throat. He lifted her higher, further from what she wanted, but the complaint died on her lips as he pushed her bra up and sucked her nipple between those kiss-swollen lips of his. His tongue flicked, leaving her distracted and not expecting his thumb to brush along the center of her underwear. The water lapping against her stomach confused her mind, made it feel like she had two bodies each being worked. His wet kisses dragged along her chest to her other breast, she felt every lick and suck and swirl of his tongue around her nipple pebbling from the cold exposure. She also felt every single stroke of his finger as it slid underneath her panties and pressed around her clit.  

“Oh god,” she gasped and slid her fingers into his dark hair tickling her chest, her body shuddering. He rubbed circles between her legs and sucked at her nipple and she felt sure she’d cum before he was even in her. If so, she wouldn’t say anything. She didn’t want this to end so soon. Everything he did felt good, everywhere he touched felt alive and electric in a way she did not ever recall feeling in her life. When his thumb circled her entrance and then sank in, she made a noise that had him chuckling against her chest. 

“It’s just my thumb,” he teased. “Think you can handle the real thing or you going to cum too soon?”

“Well sorry, one of us is a little touch-starved…”

“Are you kidding? You think I’m not starving right now?” His mouth was impossibly sloppy up her throat, up to tongue her earring, and then slide down to her mouth, trails of saliva and pool water everywhere making her skin rise in goosebumps. She gasped and rocked her hips against his hand working her to the edge, twining her arms around his shoulders to give her leverage. He could totally make her cum this way. Was that pathetic? 

His hand suddenly pulled away, leaving her reeling. She knew it showed on her face. She just stared at him, confused for the second until it was clear he’d pulled away to drag his boardshorts off –completely off, tossed to the edge of the pool as if he had no problem being bum-fucking-naked in her backyard. That drove her wild, for him to be so casual about it. Inspired, she unclasped her bra and tossed it aside, then dragged her panties down. He took them from her and threw them far away into the yard, grinning cheekily as he did so. When she reached for her skirt though he stopped her.

“Leave that.”

“Why?”

“Leverage,” he said, and bunched the fabric up by the waistband and used that to yank her close. Her naked chest against his, cold water against flushed skin, made her gasp. Oh shit. Oh shit, fucking JK in the pool, she wasn’t even drunk, what was she doing?

But she wanted this, wanted it so bad she didn’t care about the consequences, wanted it so badly she reached down to take hold of his cock herself and stroke. The moan that rolled from his chest delighted her; he kissed his next moan into her mouth, tongue dipping down to tangle with hers. He was naked, he was so naked and all wrapped up with her and Grace was somebody else right now, living an impossible fantasy.

“You got a plan for that?” he asked, taunting her as he slowly thrust into her palm. She wrapped her other hand around him too and dragged, trying to get another moan from him but driving herself crazy instead. She wanted that, she wanted it in her, her heart thudded up high and down low and anywhere but her chest, she felt wild with desperation to be filled by him. She tried to pull herself close enough to impale but the water was clumsy to move through, more resistant than she thought, and she found herself continuing to clench around nothing, longing for his thumb, his pinky, anything. But preferably the hard cock filling her hand.  

Her back hit the edge of the pool again. He kissed her again, distracting, but not enough that she missed his fingers gripping the insides of her thighs, lifting and pressing them apart, leaving her so brazenly open for him and yet modestly hidden beneath the water. She guided his cock, rubbing the hard head of it against her clit, rocking her hips until she got him in just the right place and he sank slowly into her. A groan rushed from his chest and she devoured it, tightening her arms around his neck as he began to move into her, slowly pressing deeper and deeper, pinning her against the wall of the pool as his cock spread her –but not deep enough, she needed deeper, she could feel how shallow his slow, encumbered thrusts were. 

“Stupid water,” he murmured, dropping her thighs to grab her ass instead and pulled her but his hands slipped. He grabbed the fabric of her skirt instead and yanked. His body bucked as if frustrated, his breath sounding like a desperate pant, and that made her feel even wilder, because this already felt so good she wanted to scream and he wasn’t even really getting to fuck her the way he wanted to, the way she wanted. 

“Stupid water,” she agreed, and tried sinking her weight into him. It got him deeper, deep enough she finally felt full and she groaned into his shoulder. She slid her feet around him as he moved her away from the wall, not sure his plan, but forming one of her own: she lifted from him, then used her feet on his ass to drive herself down again. He quickly caught on and matched his thrust to her rhythm. It felt so much better, she felt so full and snug that she wasn’t even embarrassed by the satisfied moan that rushed out around his lips. Their synchronized rhythm, the full press and slap of their bodies against each other, even the twitching of his shoulder muscles beneath her forearms were enough enough it was more than enough. 

Then he carried her up to steps so that she was mostly of the water and suddenly the jolt of his body fucking hers was much, much stronger.

“Oh my god,” she yelped with surprise when the kiss of water was gone, and she felt her full weight held aloft only by his arms. This time when his cock pressed into her, she felt it in ways she had not realized the water was muting. 

“Fuck, there,” he groaned. His hands slipped around her thighs and ass, fingers grabbing all over, looking for the right grip on her slippery body. In a stroke of genius, he hooked his elbows beneath her knees, and for a moment held her aloft and fucked into her so hard she screamed.

“What! You ok?”

“Oh my god,” she gasped. “Oh my god, do that, do that more.”

“Oh that was a good– yeah–” She couldn’t believe it, him holding her like that. Without having to support her own weight all, it left her free to just take it and holy shit. She grabbed his shoulders and tried to press down into the rapid thrusts and wailed into his neck. He fucked harder, faster, fingers digging for traction, holding her tight so she couldn’t run away from her own building pleasure.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” she gasped against his neck and curled around his body and stopped making any noise at all as pleasure erupted from the drive of his cock all the way up to her scalp. A cry chased the silence as her body spasmed and jerked against him, unsteady, out of rhythm, her body reeling with the shock of orgasm, her vision blooming with impossible colors. She sounded like a woman drowned as she gasped for breath and felt like she couldn’t catch it, couldn’t find traction to hold onto him with her wet hands and feet, couldn’t re-solidy around the steady thrust of him into her humming core.  

He must not have realized it because he didn’t ask if she’d cum and she didn’t volunteer the information and he didn’t stop. He wasn’t done and she didn’t want to be done either, she wanted more. It was just the prelude, she understood from her body. She’d never been a two-time kind of girl but she was lost in him right now, wrapped up in this impossible scenario being fucked by JK in her brand new pool, and she’d hide a dozen orgasms before she asked him to stop.

At first when he moved she feared he’d realized and was stopping before she’d got to see him cum.

“Don’t step,” she begged.

“I’m not stopping, don’t want to drop you,” he panted out. Her disappointment was short lived when he sat his bare ass on the side of the pool, her bundled in his lap, his hands now free to roam her body as she took over and rode him hard enough she could hear the softest whine in his breath. The angle of his cock was just as good here, when she tilted her right hip just a little it made her see stars with such strong pleasure that she lost the rhythm just as he was synchronizing his pulls with her. Their bodies were slippery, she couldn’t get the right angle and rhythm back and so just sank down on him deep, as deep as she could take him, and gyrated. It was the perfect moment to catch her breath. Her hands slid up and down his body, finally free to touch the muscles she’d worked so hard not to notice before. She kissed his mouth and chin and his ear and was rewarded with him briefly holding her still, panting against her neck, hands clenching against her skin. She thought he was cumming 

He grunted some series of words she couldn’t understand, completely incoherent. She decided to be bratty and bit his ear as she jerked herself harder down on him. He pulled her off and slid back onto the steps of the pool, which she thought might be a punishment, but instead he gripped the twisted drenched fabric of her skirt and used it to drag her to the edge. She would have liked to see the water lapping at his ass, it wasn’t fair he had his cock out in her pool and she couldn’t really see but he wouldn’t stop kissing her and she wouldn’t stop it either.

“Your legs go so wide,” he grinned against her mouth, pushing them further and dragging her closer to the edge as he shoved his cock back into place. 

“Yoga.”

“Fucking yoga,” he groaned, leaning his weight onto his hands behind her and pressed deep. The angle was a little awkward but she loved the bulk and surround of him, the way his muscles flexed to support his own weight over her, the way his hair dripped water down onto her heated skin. She pushed herself closer to the edge to fix the angle. Groans rose from deep in her throat when he dragged her even closer by that damn sexy wet fabric, so close to the edge she thought she was going to slide right into the pool, held at bay only by his hips pressing against her, his cock pressing her to safety. 

His hands hooked under her knees, holding her wide; she caught herself with her hands to keep from falling backwards and his eyes dropped immediately to her tits, now pressed towards him. The slight distance gave her an eyeful too, of his tanned torso, taught muscles, the thatch of hair above his cock as pumped inot her.  He was so hot, every muscle of his body flexing, his lips pursing with the effort. 

“Oh god,” she murmured, feeling her body pull in tight around that thick intrusion. No, this was worse than before –worse in a good way– because now he had the leverage and freedom he had not had when trying not to drop her. Hard, hard, fast, so fast her breath hiccuped in her chest and her mind spun circles and she dug her nails into his shoulders to hold herself in place because it was the only help she could offer for her own undoing as her feet bounced in the air and the water churned around his thighs.

Suddenly he pushed her back onto the concrete and crawled over her, her knees still over his arms which slid down to cradle her, folding her, leaving her helpless beneath the frantic drive of his cock.

“Oh god, JK–”

“Yeah, pretty girl, scream, let me hear you cum,” he panted against her hair and she didn’t even mean to unleash it but it snuck out anyway as his relentless thrusts shoved her headlong into a second orgasm. She jerked and twisted beneath him but he held her in place, driving in faster, she thought, sloppier, until his stern expression crumpled.

He yanked out of her grasp and out of her body and stretched to the side to pump himself, cum shooting across the edge of the pool, then dribbling down onto his thigh. Without a thought in her head and barely any air in her chest, Grace reached out to smear her hand across the mess on his leg, her other hand gently rubbing her own clit to soothe herself back together. 

“Are you still–” he started and slid his hand underneath hers to take over the task.

She twitched and flinched and gasped, “No, soft, soft, I’m… I’m done, I… I…” His hand slowed, brushing gentle and slower circles over her clit until he was still, such an intimate and soothing hold. She relaxed completely, boneless. His eyelids seemed heavy above his smile as he flopped onto his back with a satisfied groan, spent dick draped across his hip. She curled more modestly onto her side and waited for the heady rush to settle so she could think straight. She didn’t think she could even sit up just yet.

For several minutes they just lay there. Slowly she returned to the silence of the neighborhood, to the distant sound of cars, to the bubbling of the filter in the pool.

She ought to say something. She felt like she should. 

“That was…” she tried.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“Amazing.”

“Fucking amazing,” he said. Their sentences were all twisted up and they shared a chuckle. “It’s harder to fuck in the pool than you realize.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. 

“Easier if you wanted to be fucked slow but you wanted to be fucked, right?”

“I did.”

“So I was determined,” he said with a chuckle. “You asked so nicely.”

She shoved his head playfully but he caught her hand and deposited it on his chest. It was uncomfortable on the concrete though –rough, hard, hot, all sorts of things Grace had been oblivious to when letting JK screw her on it. Slowly she sat up, arms crossed over her naked chest as she looked around the yard. She had no idea if neighbors could hear or see them. And he was still so naked, sunning himself on the side of her pool, his feet in the water, full gorgeous body on total display.

In admiring him though, she saw too now the bloody scraped knees and one of his shins. His elbow too, one arm draped lazily over his forehead.

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” That was easier to comprehend than that JK had just fucked her through two orgasms in her pool.

“Huh? Oh, just my knees? Yeah, it’s fine. You’re not scraped up are you? I tried to keep you off the concrete–”

“I’m so sorry–”

“Clearly didn’t bother me,” he grinned at her. “I’m cool with a little pain mixed in.” She stared at his face, startled, stunned this had happened, and torn between that shock and the desire to slide up against him again and kiss more. He’d protected her from the concrete even while fucking?! Her bar for guys might be low, but that was incredibly sweet.

“Can I get you the first aid kit and an ice pack or–”

“Nah, it’s fine. Seriously, I’m a surfer, I’m always roughed up for way less satisfying reasons than… that.” He pushed himself up to standing, showing off a muscular ass which she denied the unbearable urge to slap as he untwisted his shorts and wrestled them on. It prodded her into motion: adjusting her skirt, tidying her hair. Her blouse was too tangled so she only clasped her bra back into place and looked down at herself and failed not to giggle.

He held his hand out to help her to her wobbly legs and laughed when she actually did teeter and had to grab onto his arms.

“Damn,” he beamed.

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Kinda think you like me cocky.”

“Bully,” she glared but couldn’t sustain even the pretense of it for long. She felt relaxed. At peace. Heavy and lazy and all kinds of wonderful things. This morning was a hundred years away. She wanted nothing in the world except a nap. 

He’d been watching her face and when she looked away with embarrassment at whatever dumb emotion was to be found there, he just playfully tugged the strap of her bra. 

“Well…” he drawled. “If you have no other questions or concerns about your pool… I really hate to fuck and run but…”

“Oh my god, seriously?” she laughed.

“I have three more pools to clean today…”

“What! JK,” she cried and laughed and gave him a playful shove. “Oh my god, you’re still on the clock… why didn’t you…” The look he gave her was answer enough. He wasn’t going to say no to pre-lunch sex when it fell into his lap. When the woman begged for it the way she’d done. 

“Where’s my shirt…” he murmured and found it and wrung it out over the pool before dragging it down. She saw some scratches and rubbed pink skin. It was a crime to put his shirt back on and cover all that delicious warm skin. 

He grabbed his bucket from the corner and she just watched as he scooped up some water and dumped it over the puddle of his cum. He gave her a playful grimace about it, then laughed at himself and ran his hand through his hair.

“Well, uh. Hope that was satisfactory.”

“It was.”

“Hope your day goes better,” he said. Grace wondered if he was waiting for her to say something. She had no clue what to say. If she said a single word, it would break the magic of this and she’d discover she had just slipped and hit her head in the shower and dreamed this whole thing up. She’d say something stupid and ruin whatever illusion she had cast to get JK to bang her on a Tuesday morning. She wanted to just savor this satisfied feeling.

Damn, she needed to buy some lounge chairs to sink into beside the pool. There was nothing, she had to just untangle her blouse and retrieve her underwear as he hopped into his truck. She waved as he turned around in her driveway and headed out. but didn’t see if he noticed or waved back. 

Instead she had to stupidly gather her things from the garage floor so she could get her house key to even get inside, where the air condition made her teeth chatter. Despite being soaked, she sank down on the living room couch and pulled the throw blanket around herself because she still didn’t quite feel like she’d come down from the high and she just needed a moment more to catch her breath because her knees were still knocking together.

Damn. 

Chapter Five | Masterlist | Chapter Seven