#i ordered the pins today as a present to myself (the entire set because i can Not separate them)

[im-sure-i-love-you]

ah I can feel the brain worms starting for a starstruck odyssey, wonderful

[jjungkooksthighs]

Yearn for You | jjk (m)

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

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

◊  Rating: 18+ / nsfw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook,” you whimper, “touch me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook, I-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          Jimin:

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

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

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

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

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

          Jungkook:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[shorkbrian]

THIS ISNT AN ASK I JUST GOT INSPIRED LOOKING AT YOUR TINGSSS; (Prohero) Yan Kiri responding to his (kidnapped) darlings' birthday request: Just do what they say for the day. Darling had to suck dick LONG AND HARD for this very special birthday wish, and spends the day dancing around the garden in a dress that they FINALLY got to choose themselves (the longest one they own) with gorgeous, full coverage underwear on. (1/2)

“This isn't an ask” then why it in my ask box hoe (Lolol I’m sorry I write what I see hope u don’t mind)

(What to expect - Cunnilingous, dubcon, noncon, NSFW, sexy birthday gift)

Yes you had to suck his dick, not to be allowed to wear the dress (Kirishima’s a sucker, and he likes seeing his baby in pretty little dresses that make them look all innocent), but to have him promise to not pin and fuck you the second she put it on (or at any point during your special day, just one day without sex, please? ur pussy needs a mf break)

Because it’s your birthday, Kirishima lets you order a dress online, sat in his lap of course, while he offers feedback.

“That one’s pretty.”

“Oo, you’d look so gorgeous in that color, you should get that one!”

“Eh, this one doesn’t seem like you, let’s look at a different one babe.”

“This is cute, but don’t you think it’s a little long? You might trip.”

His advice was unwarranted and mostly unwanted, hands distracting you by playing with your hair, kissing at your exposed shoulder while you scrolled through the options.

You finally decided on a dress, begging Kirishima to allow you to buy underwear as well to go with it. Kiri got excited for a second, and of course said yes, only to get confused and laugh when you added comfortable, un-sexy underwear to the cart.

But a promise is a promise, so everything gets purchased.

And the morning of your birthday, you get presented with the dress, the underwear, and breakfast in bed, which is slightly burnt, but the effort is somewhat appreciated.

Kirishima doesn’t bother you when you head to the shower (usually he follows you everywhere like an oversized puppy, and showers are never completed without his wandering hands and wet kisses), just smiles at you forlornly as he keeps his end of the “no touching” agreement for the day.

He doesn’t make you sit in his lap, or even next to him while you eat your breakfast in bed.

You don’t have his hands constantly touching you, wrapped around your waist, heavy on your shoulder, playing with your hair or skimming along your thigh.

Kirishima’s taken the day off, just so he can spend it with you, and he’s so glad. You’re laughing at his stupid jokes, you seem comfortable and relaxed, cheeks rosy, eyes bright, and the man has never been so in love.

It’s obvious that he’s struggling to hold himself back from grabbing you - his fingers itch, his smile is strained, he can’t stop staring at you in that dress. But he had promised, and you took advantage of that.

Flouncing around his bulky form, swishing your dress, giving an enthusiastic twirl that maybe showed off a bit more of your legs than was considered modest.

Teasing him about the slight bulge in his pants that appeared after a little bit of flirting, feeling safe because he wasn’t allowed to touch you.

You were shameless about the flirting too, a sort of confidence filling you and making you giggly and feel light, even though you weren’t exactly fond of the man you were flirting with on account of all the things he had done to you. 

Kiri tried to convince you to stop, joking along with you at first but then quickly growing serious as you amped up your playful seductiveness, feeling powerful and in control because he couldn’t touch you no matter what.

His words were ignored, and you continued to live your best life, dancing around, licking food off of your finger with a mean smile, letting out little breathy moans whenever you stretched.

And the best part? Kirishima just had to sit there and take it. Just like he had forced you to accept his affection, you now forced him to accept the fact that you were wholly in reach, but absolutely off-limits.

That evening, you get ushered out to the garden, which Kirishima had “decorated” for you.

Technically, it was your garden, something for you to work on and occupy yourself with while Kirishima was off working. It wasn’t much, but you’d done your best with taking care of the plants.

Kiri had hung little twinkly lights in the trees, stringing them between the branches. He had set up a little table underneath the lights, a small cake, a bouquet of flowers, a few candles here and there.

It was romantic, and your heart swelled at the sight. In any other situation, this would be the absolute best birthday in the entire world. But today you wanted to be happy, so you didn’t think about all the reasons for why it wasn’t.

The two of you sat and ate cake, Kirishima recounting how many times he’d gotten cake slapped in his face by trying to surprise Bakugou on his birthday. You laughed, almost choking on cake, which made you laugh harder at the ungodly noise that left your throat.

You talked about your garden, animatedly gesturing to the various plants, explaining how you took care of them and what you still needed to work on. Kirishima listened intently, smiling at you.

He interrupted you in the middle of a story about your life growing up, holding a bite of cake towards you on his fork. Without thinking (he had been very insistent at first that he hand-feed you), you leaned across the table, opening your mouth and accepting the food.

You made eye contact, Kirishima’s eyes flicking down to your mouth, the way your lips stretched around the fork, the pink of your tongue as it accepted the bite. A moan was uttered, a smile teasing your lips as you licked at the frosting around your lips, bringing a thumb up to swipe it clean, sucking the digit into your mouth while moaning about how good it tastes.

And then Kirishima was breathing hard, red eyes locked on your own, calmly putting down his fork.

You immediately recognized what was going on, started rising from your seat the same time Kiri rose from his, holding your hands out and reminding the man of his promise. 

But he was done, you’d teased him all day. Enough was enough.

He grabbed your arm before you could even think about moving away, jerking you to him to capture your lips in a heated kiss, tasting the subtle hint of sweetness on your tongue.

As soon as he pulled away, you were admonishing him, saying he promised, telling him to stop touching you, he’s such a jerk.

But he had a one-track mind, picking you up to settle your weight in one hand, forearm under your rear as he cleared a space on the table quickly.

Then you were getting sat down on top of it, Kiri sitting back down in his chair as he pulled your hips to edge, quickly rucking up your dress.

“Kirishima! You-you promised! Stop, you said you wouldn't!” You cried, trying to push his hands away, push his head back, stop him from revealing your underwear, but he was determined.

“Sorry baby, I just can’t help myself.” Was the offered explanation while he pulled down your underwear, managing to get it off one of your kicking legs before giving up and letting it dangle off of one ankle.

He hunched over immediately, large hands gripping and angling your hips up so he could reach your pussy, licking over it messily. There was no technique, no rhythm, the man just wanted to taste you, practically drooling over your cunt.

You cried out, hands pulling at his hair, making him grunt, but he couldn’t be moved from between your plush thighs.

“You said-ah! Don’t Kiri-” You whined, resigning yourself to the fact that he wasn’t going to let up. “It’s my birthday, I-I didn’t want you touching me....”

Kirishima pulled back a little, brows furrowed. He reached over to the cake, your eyes following his hand as he scooped up a glob of frosting.

No, he wouldn’t-

He would.

“No!” You yelped, but his grip on your hip was firm as he slapped the handful of frosting onto your cunt. You keened at the odd sensation, the cool frosting quickly being heated by your warm skin, beginning to melt.

“Birthday girl, you’re all messy, gotta clean you up-” The man breathed, diving back down the suck at your skin, tongue enthusiastically licking up the frosting, your juices with it.

All you could do was cry.

He ate you out until the frosting was cleaned from you cunt, until your skin was shiny and slick with spit and your own creamy juices. By the time he seemed satisfied, you were shaking, thighs bracketing his hand while they trembled and convulsed at each eager lave of his tongue over your swollen slit.

It began raining, the soft pitter-patter droplets easily hiding the streaking of tears down your face.

Kirishima didn’t seem too phased, merely standing, pulling you into his arms and striding towards the door.

You could see the little area Kirishima had set up for your birthday, lights beginning to drop out of trees from the wind, the cake getting ruined by the elements, the scene quickly dissolving into a mess.

And Kirishima had barely gotten started with you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 VI

Warnings: warnings to be added as we progress but this series may contain non-consent, violence, death, and other triggers (this chapter, oral, violence, degradation)

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The king proves to be mercurial and you prove to be foolish.

Note: Masterlist update coming today @darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor​. Updates might be sporadic from here on out because despite the world being utter shit, Black Friday still exists.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The air was fragrant as you sat on the low bench, wrapped in only a robe, and stared out the window. On the other side of the room, Loki dressed with the help of the young boy, Hal. The steam of his bath still dissipated in the air as he grumbled now and then, often drinking deeply from his glass and pouring another slosh of water from the pitcher.

It was as if you weren’t there. How easily the king forgot about all but himself. He dressed in dark blue that day, trimmed in an ivory cape and boots. He swatted Hal away and touched his temple as the sunlight made him squint. He sighed and brushed his fingers through the ends of his dark locks.

“Today will be the riding events. I did excuse myself from those lists.” He spoke, almost as if to himself. “Tomorrow I will be in better condition to win at the blade.”

You were quiet as you drew your legs up onto the bench. You slouched over your knees and rested your chin on your crossed arms.

“I will be gone much of the day but I expect you ready upon my return,” he neared and his shadow loomed over you, “You will undoubtedly be eager for it… From what I recall of last evening, you might even be begging for it.”

You glowered up at him as he smirked and winced then tapped his forehead.

“What am I to do? I have nothing but to walk the boards and stare out at the grass. I will be mad by the time you return.” You muttered as you turned your head away.

“All the better,” he slithered. He lifted his toe and swiveled his heel. He exhaled deeply. “Well, what should you like to do?”

“Besides the obvious?” You sneered.

“Perhaps, if you behave, I will see you to a stroll among the corridors when all are retired, but for now I cannot offer much more.” He sniffed, “So, what is it you peasants occupy your time with?”

You blinked and rubbed your cheek as you thought. You hadn’t much besides your work and your occasional adventures with Gilla. Neither would be viable now.

“I might try to sketch?” You looked up at last.

He considered you with a wrinkle in his brow and nodded. “I will grant you the favour upon the promise of one in kind,” he said, “...upon my return.”

You bit down. You expected as much but it still irked you. You turned to the window again.

“As you wish, your majesty.” You stared out at the green leaves that crested the branches of the palace yards. You felt him watch you a moment longer before he retreated.

“Hal, you will fetch her paper and some charcoal,” his soft soles approached the door, “Tend to her meals as you will and draw her a bath. She is starting to smell a bit… common.”

“Your majesty,” Hal chirped and followed the king through to the receiving chambers.

You listened as the doors opened and closed and you dropped your legs over the edge of the bench as you leaned against the wall. You grunted in frustration and hit the bench with your fist. It was exactly what Loki wanted; you at his mercy. Those small requests would grow to desperate pleas. His ploy was working but you could do little to keep him from controlling you entirely.

🐍

You weren’t very good at drawing but you managed a sloppy image of the scene through the window. The trees were slightly crooked and the gate uneven but it kept you busy for a time. You turned to a blank sheet but couldn’t focus enough to draw as you could hear the distant audience from the other side of the glass.

The common folk didn’t often attend these events. If they were present, they were selling wares to those lords and ladies who gathered for the pageantry. Still, trapped in the endless monotony, you longed to join the festivity. Anything but to sit within those walls and wait until your tormentor returned. Even if he could make you feel splendid, the king was little more than your warden.

As the sun reached its peak, Hal appeared to draw your bath with several attendants. You washed alone and dressed in one of the gowns provided by the king. You hate how the satin clung to your torso even with its boning and how the skirts tickled your legs as they swished.

You ate a little. Your tedium turned to impatience turned to agitation. The day faded from yellow to a calm blue and slowly dimmed beyond the stone walls. The din quieted as the sun descended. The king’s presence loomed in your mind.

You attempted a sketch of a lion statuette and relinquished the charcoal in frustration. Hal appeared with two covered plates on a tray and set them on the table. He placed a bottle of wine and some goblets alongside them and left you without a word. The boy seemed nervous since your prior conversation.

The king entered without fanfare. You looked up at him as you were distracted from the trance that had you staring into the unlit hearth. He glanced over at you and frowned. He tutted and removed his cape.

“I am aware your etiquette is unrefined but you will rise and pay your obeisance to me upon my arrival,” he uttered, “Do not think I grow negligent in my expectation of you, little mouse.”

You stood stiffly and bowed. He sat at the table and huffed.

“Well, get over here,” he pointed to the other chair, “Pour some wine.”

You crossed to the table and filled a goblet for him. Your own, you only filled to the half point. You sat and uncovered your plate as he did the same. He poked at the food. He was annoyed already.

“Are you not hungry?” He asked as he twirled his fork. “I am informed your plates are left barely touched as late.”

“I am,” you scooped up a potato, “I will eat.”

He tilted his head and considered you. He dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat. “Do not force yourself on my account,” he said, “If you do not appreciate the fare, then you may forego your supper.”

“Your majesty, I will--”

“No, no, as I recall, you owe me,” he glanced at the paper on the edge of the table and the sticks of charcoal, “And as I do anticipate an early morning on account of the competition, I would rather we sort this out sooner.”

He dropped a hand down and picked at the laces of his trousers, “Come, under the table,” he bid, “If you will not eat then you may use your mouth for other means.”

You glared at him, mortified. You brought your fork to your lips and he was quick to rise and bat it away. The top of his pants drooped as you dropped the silver and you blanched at him. He dropped back into his chair.

“I do not issue requests, I give orders. Now on your knees or I will have you even quicker on your back.”

“Then do it already,” you snarled, “I tire of your boasting.”

He stood once more, this time so abrubtly that his chair toppled behind him. He was upon you in a moment, his hands around your head as he forced you to your feet. His eyes flared down at you as you grabbed onto his arms and wrestled with him. You stumbled as he dragged you around the chamber he angled you toward the settee.

He shoved you down and slipped a hand down to your throat as he straddled you beneath him. He slid his hand down the front of his open trousers and pulled out his hard member. He lifted his knees and moved up to pin down your shoulders. He squeezed your throat tightly as he bent over you and guided his cock to your lips.

“You bite me and I will have your teeth on the floor,” he threatened, “Now open for your king.”

You clenched your lips but as your breath dwindled, you gasped and he quickly slipped inside your mouth. He sank down your throat as he brought his hand up above your head and thrust his hips roughly. You choked and kicked out. You slapped his thighs as you struggled to breathe.

He groaned as his hips slammed down harder and harder. You gagged and your eyes lolled back as your vision swam with tears.

“You do push me when I am already… inflamed,” he grunted, “When my temper has already been stoked by incompetents.”

He fucked your face without relent as you were trapped beneath him. His fingers stretched over your head and he sped up once more. He panted as he chased his end and when it rose, he flooded your throat without warning. He continued to rock into you until you swallowed around him. He shivered at the sensation and sat back as he slowly drew himself from your mouth.

His cock glistened as he rested his weight on your chest and steadied himself. He swallowed and hung his head back. Without looking, he poked two fingers into your mouth. Without thinking, you gnashed his digits between your teeth. You were met quickly with a strike across your cheek.

He wiggled his fingers, further pained by the slap, and growled.

“Must you insist on difficulty,” he pushed himself off of you and tucked away his cock. He grabbed your arm and wrenched you onto the floor. “There you are.” He jabbed you with his toe. “You can spend your night there.”

He shoved you back with his boot and spun away from you. He went to the table and took the heel of bread from his plate and the entire bottle of wine. “No supper for you. If I see that you’ve so much as stolen a crumb, I will whip you myself.”

He stomped to the bedroom doors and looked back at you one last time. “And leave the boy alone. He is not your friend.”

🐍

You stayed on the floor but didn’t sleep much. Little hazes but nothing more. Loki stirred in the next room and you turned to face the wall. You didn’t move as a knock sounded shortly after. The young boy seemed to always sense when he was required. He entered and hesitated as he passed you before the settee. He carried on and you let out the air in your lungs.

You heard the king’s voice and the activity that followed his awakening. When he emerged, you remained as you were. He ordered Hal around as he sat to tie his boots. He scoffed as he rose and swept towards the door.

“I know you are awake, mouse,” he said, “Let’s not make deception a habit.”

You refused to respond and he huffed. The door opened and he paused in the doorway. “See to her meals, boy.” His voice shifted direction, “Sir, you will watch the door.”

A grumble came in response to the orders as the door snapped shut. You rolled onto your back and sat up. The morning light made your head pulse and your eyelids drooped heavily. You pulled yourself up onto the settee and buried your face in the cushion. You hadn’t the energy to stay mad, you only needed sleep. It wasn’t long before it came.

When you woke, you were groggy. A plate awaited you on the table and the same buzz floated from outside the walls. Another day of sport and you were, as ever, pent up inside on the king’s whim. You slunk over to the table and ate without tasting. Your stomach ached until it was satisfied.

You stood and paced. You stopped at the window as you tried to get a glimpse of the tents erected around the tourney grounds but the silk offered little sign of what was unfolding. You hated that you had to wait, it was all you did. The king had chosen your punishment well. This purgatory was worse than any dungeon.

You marched back and forth. Your anger began to bubble over. Well, if he should have you do nothing, you will find something to keep yourself occupied. Perhaps you might tear down the drapes or dismantle the framed pictures of his smug ancestors. What worse could he do that he did not intend already?

You kicked the door as you passed it and your toe throbbed. Your slippers offered little padding and you swore. Further enraged by your pain, you punched the door. You stopped and listened through the wood. You could hear the drafty emptiness of the halls. Cautiously, you rested your hand on the handle and pressed until the lever lifted. 

You pulled the door an inch inward and waited for it to be forced back into place. But you met no resistance and poked your head into the corridor. There was no guard, no passing resident, no spy you could see. You retreated and steadied your nerves. Was it a trick? A trap? Either way, it was too much to deny.

You went to the wardrobe and took down the grey cloak hung within. You tied it at your throat and peered back into the halls. Still, no keeper to stop you from your escape. Well, it would only be a brief sojourn. You only wanted to see the games. To know what made the crowd so raucous.

You hesitated. If the king discovered your flight, you would be in dire trouble. Yet, he was competing himself and wouldn’t even know. So long as you were back before your guard. Where was that lug anyhow?

You put your foot down lightly. You slowly leaned your weight on it and stepped out into the hall, testing its vacancy. Still, you were alone. You pulled up your hood and closed the door behind you. You weren’t certain which way to go in the immense palace.

You lost yourself several times over before you found the stairs. You scurried down the steps and hid your face as well as you could as you passed by servants in their aprons and caps. You felt as if they all knew, as if any would accost you and report your offense back to the king.

But they didn’t and you kept on until you stumbled in disbelief onto the green. You followed the scent of roasting beef and the wall of voices to the cluster of tents along the sporting field. There were benches set on platforms to house the observers; the ladies waving their handkerchiefs and the older lords cheering on their favourites.

You stood before the steps of the stands and glanced around. Surely you were being followed. You couldn’t have just walked out onto the green so easily. It felt too simple. It felt a snare but yet you kept going.

You climbed up and pushed down your hood as no other wore theirs. You needed to blend in with the crowd. You walked behind a row of ladies as they stood and called out to the field. You stopped behind them and stood on tiptoes to see past them. Two contestants in armor charged at each other with blunted blades. The tourneys had long since traded real steel for training weapons. The forgers often complained of the flimsy designs.

You edged past the line of ladies and upon a closer look, you recognised the fighters. The prince, Thor, fought in red armor with a lion on its helm, and his brother, the king, faced him with serpents across his breast plate. As you heard it, the custom was to allow the monarch a victory.

Still, the audience held its breath as the swords crashed together once more. The much larger royal barely missed his brother with a fearsome strike. Loki was quick and kicked out Thor’s leg. The elder slipped but recovered easily as he batted away the next swing. The two danced around each other; Loki, graceful and light, Thor, lumbering but effective.

As Thor struck down with both hands, Loki deflected him but found the dull blade snapped by the force. He stumbled back and dodged his brother’s next attack. The king was fast but defenseless. He ducked and dove all around but at last found himself cornered by his burly brother. You saw the desperation and the realisation in his posture.

He made an attempt to disarm his brother only to be thrown back. He landed with a thud on his back and the crowd went silent. Thor sheathed his sword and offered his hand to his brother. There was a moment before the gesture was accepted and the king was hauled onto his feet. The men clapped each others’ shoulders politely but all knew there was little comradery between them. Only the prince would dare best the king. And he had dared.

The king waved to the crowd and the competitors were led from the field. The king reached to remove his helm as he walked towards the stall and looked out into the crowd. His jaw was tense and even at a distance you could see his spite. And, you swore, he could see you.

You carefully took a step back and hid behind the figure next to you. You let out a shuddery breath. He could know, now from so far away. You were just another body in the crowd. Well, you had come and seen the fuss. You would have to go before your absence was discovered and the alarm sent up.

You retraced your steps and staggered onto the grass. After such a loss, the king would be even angrier. He did not lie when he said his brother provoked him like no other. A dark foreboding stabbed you.

You already regretted your mistake. A moment of impulsivity had taken you too far. But he hadn’t seen you. He couldn’t have. You were just paranoid. 

You ducked your head down and raced up the palace steps and followed a servant until you found the stairs. You were lost again as you reached the top. The corridors seemed to only lead into each other in circles but at last, you caught your bearings.

You turned the corner that led to the king’s chambers but were suddenly jerked back as a painful grip closed around your arm. Magnus sneered down at you as his hand threatened to crush your bones. He slammed you against the wall and you gasped.

“The king will not be happy with you, wench,” he snarled, “Oh, I think he might just toss you back where you belong.”

“Let go of me,” you rasped, “Ow!”

He shook you with a sharp hiss.

“Shut your fucking mouth. You know what he will do when I reveal to him what you’ve done?” He taunted. 

You gulped down air and croaked out as squirmed helplessly. “And what… about you? What will he think of the guard who let me free?” You trembled as his grey eyes bore into you, “When he learns that your absence allowed for my escape?”

His nostrils flared and he squeezed your arms. His jaw ticked as he stared you down then all at once, his hands dropped. He shoved you away from the wall.

“You keep quiet and go back,” he stomped behind you, “And I won’t snap your neck and tell him you asked for it.”

You went to the door and he was close behind. He reached past you and opened the door so that it hit the wall. He grabbed the back of your neck and dragged you inside. He kicked the back of your legs so that they collapsed and he forced you down to the ground as bent over you.

“I know why the king keeps you, whore,” he spat, “He will tire of you soon and I will delight in throwing you back to the dungeons.” He pushed until your face met the floor. “When he is done, he might just let me finish breaking you.”

He pushed away from you and flipped you with his foot. He clutched his pommel and sneered down at you as he circled you. His chest puffed out and he stopped sharply on his heel.

“A little rat like you will be back to the gutter soon enough,” he backed away as he seemed tempted to draw his blade. “I’ll make sure of it the next time you stray.”

He slammed the door behind him and it shook in his stead. You laid on the floor, paralysed with adrenaline. You blinked up at the ceiling and breathed at last. You were truly out of your depth.

[3mmafr0st]

Remember Me Part 2

Previous Part <——-->Next Part

Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SMUT and everything that comes with it, Talk of death and murder, violence, guns, brainwashing, sleazy billionaires (eat the rich)

A/N: I have had so much fun with this, give your opinions in the comments

They lied, there was no new mission tomorrow. I stayed locked in that dark little cell that they called my room. It was somewhat comfortable, they had to keep me Poole that so I would be able to keep myself in peak shape. A soldier is no good if they’re sick and in pain. There were sparse books, guides like The Art of War, or the vile words of Mein Kampf. I didn’t like the second one at all. The views were absolutely disgusting, but It made some sort of sense that it was there. I remember vaguely hearing about how Hydra was part of Nazi Germany. Although I couldn’t quite remember what that was, I knew it was bad, because that was what the book itself was about.

The walls were made of cement, the floors lined with corrugated metal. There was a metal bed frame in the corner, with a mattress, pillow, and blanket. Just enough to keep me comfortable. There was a desk in the other corner, simple metal table and chair, but nothing on it or in it. It was simply a place to fill out my mission reports. In the back was a door that lead to a small shower, toilet, and sink. Finally, a punching bag hung from the ceiling on the same side as the bed. I had been in this room for so long that I had memorized every inch of it.

It was difficult to tell how long I had been in here. The only clue to how long was the wall of carved tally marks, at least 20,000, give or take. They never actually gave me a calendar or anything to keep track of time, instead, I tracked it on mealtimes.

It had been about three weeks this time, complete with twenty two new tallies added to the wall. They pulled me out of the room after breakfast, restraining me by walking me with each of my arms held still. I had hope that he would be on this assignment, and as the door opened, a wave of relief hit me. My expression stayed stoic, unreadable. His face was the same, no emotion, no hint of what he did or did not remember. I was pushed into the seat next to him. He didn’t look at me, simply looking forward at the metal desk in front of us.

Pierce finally walked in the door. This must be a high profile mission if he’s here. Two folders were placed in front of us. We each opened our respective files, detailing the mission, even though Pierce began to explain.

“The two of you will be going on and undercover find and kill mission. You will be attending a charity gala for Rosenthal Industries, a former business partner of ours. Caleb Rosenthal will be attending the event. Your job is to get him alone, inject him with the neuro-agent, and make sure he’s dead. Your covers are listed in the file.” I nodded that I understood the mission, and so did Bucky.

The two of us were monitored during the car ride. We were meant to stay in the back while someone else drove the car. The entire ride was silent, the two of us trading glances at each other as we went over our respective files.

We were yet again set up as a couple, but we were meant to have some sort of agreement, an open marriage sort of situation. They were sending me to seduce the young Rosenthal, and get him alone. It was something that I had done millions of times it felt, but this mission was different. There was a more important objective at play, escape.

The minute we were given a room, we looked everywhere, analyzing and checking every item of the room for bugs or cameras. Once we confirmed there were none, I walked over to Bucky.

“What do you remember?” I asked, looking him dead in the eyes. I watched as the facade melted away from his face, the emotionless and cold look being replaced with a smile and adoring eyes.

I pulled his face down to me, pressing my lips to his. I tried to keep control, but it didnt last for long, as an arm snaked around my waist, the cold metal pushing up my shirt slightly to make contact with my skin. I gasped from the sensation, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

I felt the strain in my lungs, and broke the kiss, looking right back up at him.

“I know its been three weeks, but we only have three hours till the charity gala, and we both have to look presentable.” An idea popped into his head evident by the smirk appearing on his face.

“I mean, we definitely should take a shower first,” He said, hands moving up and down my sides.

“It’s probably a bad idea, but you are too good to pass up.” I yelped as my legs were sweeped out under me, Bucky carrying me through the air into the hotel bathroom.

Since we had to have a higher profile for this mission, the hotel room was much nicer than usual. The biggest excitement had to be the massive shower, more than big enough for the two of us. He put me down on the marble sink countertop, practically ripping his suit jacket and shirt off. My hands reached for his chest as he began to undo the buttons on my maroon dress shirt. Once the offending fabric was gone, he moved on to the rest of my clothing, ridding the both of us of any clothing that we had been wearing.

I whined at the cold as he left to go and start the shower, making sure that it was the right temperature. I didn’t want to wait for him to come back over to me, so I walked over to the shower, wrapping my arms around him from behind as he tested the water. I wanted to stay like that forever, simply cuddling myself into his back, the warmth of his body in contact with my cold skin. He began to turn and face me, and i loosened my grip so I could keep my arms around him.

“Doll, are you going to let go or are the two of us going to have to shuffle out way into the shower?” I pouted, but complied as he pulled me into the deliciously hot water.

“I missed you so much, Y/N,” His hands grazed their way down and up me like they did before. I tangled my hand into Bucky’s hair, pulling his lips onto mine. I had no patience at this point, and neither did he, the kiss rough and passionate as I was backed into the wall of the shower. His mouth began to move from my mouth, trailing lower and lower. I felt the warmth of his tongue swirling around my nipple, and a gasp broke free from my lips. The smooth of his metal fingers toyed with the other, making me throw my head back into the tile of the shower.    

“Fuck, keep makin those noises, doll.” His mouth moved away, trailing even lower, leaving kisses on my hips. He looked up at me, his eyes once again scanning mine for any hint of hesitation. Even through everything, he was still so kind, so sweet and concerned for me, it made me fall in love with him all over again. I was so distracted by my own sappy thoughts, that Bucky got the jump on me, licking one broad stripe up my pussy, nearly knocking the wind out of my lungs with how much I needed him. My hands flew to his hair, tangling into the long locks and pulling him closer. He moaned, sending vibrations straight to my clit, which only made me cry out and pull harder.

“Fuck, Bucky, please!” I could feel that knot that continued to tighten in my stomach. My hips began to try and move on their own, but Bucky’s hands pinned me to the tile wall so I couldn’t. I was pulled out of my trance as I felt two cold fingers slip inside of me.

I screamed his name out as his fingers began curling and pressing against the sweet spot inside of me, the combination of both his mouth and his fingers finally pushing me over the edge.

Buck held me down, helping me through my orgasm, holding my hips so I wouldn’t fall, and licking up every drop of my cum until he was satisfied. He finally stood up, making sure to hold me up so my legs wouldn’t give out from under me, his flesh hand pushing my chin up so he could look at me. My hands reached out to grab his cock, wanting him to get something out of this too, but he pushed them away.

“Not today, Doll, we gotta actually shower now, like you said, remember?” I groaned, but I knew that he was right. We had a mission to prepare for, and a plan to enact. Still holding me up, he moved me into the jets of water coming from the shower head. The hot water hit the back of my neck nicely, as Bucky squeezed out some of the soap into my hand. It felt like his hands were everywhere, assisting me with washing every bit and piece of me. Once I was finally able to stand on my own, he moved to get the shampoo, telling me to turn around and step out of the water.

He stood behind me, his hands in my hair, making sure that every single bit had been properly shampooed. I couldn’t help but sigh as his fingers worked the bubbles into the roots of my hair. Once he was finished, I stepped back under the water, as he aided in the washing away of all the shampoo and suds for one last time before the two of us switched places.

Although I knew that we had to go quickly, we, more like I, needed the time to get ready for the gala, but how could I not take the chance that I had been given to enjoy what he looked like, being able to simply move my hands over his chest, spreading the now foamy soap across his body. I moved my hands across every part of him, making sure he was perfectly clean for the gala. Once I got to putting the shampoo in his hair, I noticed a bit of a problem. Although I wasn’t the shortest person in the world, Bucky was still much taller than me, which created a bit of an obstacle when trying to wash his hair. I got up on the balls of my feet in order to reach the top of his head, collecting all of his hair in my hands to make sure everything was washed and clean. I felt as his muscles relax, as if he didn’t even know that they had been tensed, as my fingers worked at his scalp. If I wasn’t allowed to touch him in the way that I wanted, I would make him feel good in any way I could. He turned back around and into the water, rinsing all of the shampoo out of his hair.

I looked in front of the large mirror that lined one side of the bathroom. As I looked at myself, my thoughts wandered away from me. In all the time that I had been a soldier, the only women that I had ever come in contact with were doctors and nurses whenever I would get hurt on the job. They were extra careful with me, maybe it was because my face was valuable, or some bullshit like that. Other than that, I had never once seen a woman in any facility I had been in. I thought about this as I looked at myself, as the supplies and wardrobe given for me for the mission simply could not have been picked out by the type of men that I had met as a soldier. The makeup was high quality, clearly expensive, with perfect matches in color and shade in comparison to both my skin tone and the dress that I was given. The floor length black dress hugged my body in just the right way while also hiding the shiny silver of my leg. My hair was styled and put up and out of my way, both appropriate for the situation and the mission. I smiled at this woman that I did not recognize in the mirror. This was not me, this was Rose Castellan. I liked her, she wasn’t turned into a soldier against her will, experimented on and tortured for as long as she can remember.

I turned around, breaking away from my little pity party to see Bucky behind me, clearly struggling with his hair and tie.

“Help?” He looked so confused, and I smiled. I knew he didn’t tend to go on these types of missions, at least never by himself. He always struggled with his metal arm and trying to tie his tie, as well as never knowing what to do with his hair.

“Sit down, I’ll help with your hair first.” He sat in the chair that I had pulled into the bathroom from the desk. He complied as I began to fix his hair.

“So, any new memories in the last few days?” I asked, picking up the hairbrush and pulling it through his hair to get out all of the knots and tangles.

“There’s this one name that keeps repeating itself in my head, Steve. I know it’s important, I just can’t quite put my finger on who it is or why they are important.” I nodded, noting the information in my head.

“I am having the same situation. There’s a B rattling around, and I can’t quite get the rest of the word, but the B is there.” My hands gathered as much hair as I could in my hands, pulling it up to the top of the back of his head. “I have some parts that are solid progressions of time, but then it simply stops, sometimes for months, other times for years, is that like that for you?”

“Yeah, I can remember some missions that come in order, but then it just stops, and then starts back up later.”

“They really did a number on us the last time it worked when the tried to fry us, I could have sworn that I knew where all that time was going.” I pulled the elastic from my wrist, pulling it over the bundle of hair that I had gathered into a small top knot that kept his hair out of his eyes. His eyes scanned over his reflection in the mirror, clearly not used to the different look.

“Did I do ok”

“Of course, doll, just going to take a bit of getting used to.”

“You know you don’t need to keep it.”

“Yeah, but I liked it when you did it.” My eyes drifted to the ground for a moment as a blush spread over my face.

Bucky stood up from his chair, standing facing towards me. Taking the tie in my hands, I moved the fabric in and out of itself until it formed the knot that it was meant to. Finishing it off, I buttoned the front of his jacket, completing the look.

Glancing over at the clock, I saw that it was almost time to go. Luckily enough, we didn’t have to get into another car with another random driver, the Rosenthal Building was right next to our hotel.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” He asked, as the two of us began to get our things together to leave.

“After we complete the objective, instead of returning to the hotel and checking in with Pierce for extraction, we disappear, find somewhere off the grid that we can hide out for a little while so we can recover more memories,”

“Sounds like a good idea, we can’t plan too far ahead, we weren’t given schematics of the building or anything.” We looked at each other, nodding, before he offered his arm out to me, escorting me out of the hotel room.

I picked up a drink off of the small tray that was held by one of the servers in the ballroom. I thanked him, and Bucky did the same. Swirling my finger in my drink, I looked at the polish on my fingernail to see if it had changed color. It hadn’t. The drinks were clean.

The room was exactly how you would expect, with the fanciest furniture and decorations that money could buy, the guests all in the finest and most up to date fashion, everyone talking about their recent business ventures and lavish trips around the globe. There was an anger burning in me, but I had no idea where it came from. The two of us scanned the room, looking for the target.

I looked over to see the target, Caleb Rosenthal. He was young, maybe in his mid twenties, with a pretty face and a lot of money. It was clear to see that this man had never met any sort of opposition or struggle in his life, always given everything he had ever wanted. I looked at Bucky for a sort of confirmation that I should start, and he nodded. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the small group that Rosenthal had been talking to. I sauntered over, getting his attention.

“And who might you be?” His voice was unbearable, the entitlement and ego dripping off of his words.

“Rose Castellan of Castellan and Stowe Law, we haven’t met formally.”

“I would have remembered a face like yours, what’s your deal?”

“We mainly work in company lawsuits. We’re the guys that save your ass if you do something everyone will regret.” He laughed at the comment, before shooing the rest of the crowd around him away.

“Would you like to dance?” He offered his hand to me, and I smiled sweetly at him, taking it as he led me to the dance floor. His hands were sweaty and wet, but I suffered through it. The two of us danced for a while as the soft and slow music played in the background. I glanced over to see Bucky watching us with a laser stare.

“So who’s the guy?” Rosenthal asked, gesturing towards Bucky.

“My husband, but don’t worry about him.”

“Oh, and why is that?” His voice had that air of suggestiveness to it that made me want to throw up in my mouth. I leaned into him, getting my face close to his ear.

“Let’s just say the two of us have a bit of an arrangement,” I made the underlying tone of the sentence all the more apparent as I moved his hand lower down my back to rest on my ass. He looked surprised at how forward I was being, but it didn’t take long for him to lean into my ear.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Lead the way.” Rosenthal took my hand and began to lead me away from the party.

The two of us walked the hallways, as Caleb tried to find an appropriate room in his own building. I looked behind me, and in the darkness of the hallway, hidden well by the shadows lurked Bucky, watching to make sure that nothing would go too far.

Once he found an office that he deemed suitable, he swung the door open, looking both ways down the hall before opening the door and letting me walk in. He locked the door behind him, and his lips were on mine, pushing me into the desk. I sat myself on the desk as he began to move his gross and sloppy kisses down my neck. I pulled the small patch out of the secret pockets of the dress, perfectly designed. As I moved my hand around his neck, I pressed the patch into his skin, watching as the material disappeared into his flesh.

It only took moments for the toxin to hit him. He stumbled backwards from me, holding his head in pain, uttering a weak “I don’t feel so good,” before hitting the floor. I checked the man’s pulse, confirming his death, before stepping over the body and unlocking the door. Bucky was on the other side, waiting for me.

“He’s dead?”

“Are you really going to question it? I know what I’m doing!” I said, punching him in the shoulder, the attempt at comedy trying to cut the edge of the situation.

“Let’s go.” Bucky began walking down the hallway behind me, as we tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. There was always a garage door when it comes to facilities like this, and thats what we were going to go to, getting into the elevator and pressing the buttons for the ground floor.

Once the doors closed, Bucky pulled me in and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, soft and sweet, a comfort.

“What was that for?”

“I just want to make sure I did that, no matter what happens.”

“Nothing is going to happen, this is the perfect plan.”

That was when the elevator doors opened into the ground floor, and a man was standing there.  He nodded to us, before getting into the elevator as we got out. The two of us looked for some sort of lab, anything labeled as such. I couldn’t believe how lax the security was, but I didn’t say anything, that wasn’t our concern. Finally we found where we needed to be, a large garage, that opened up. I opened the door as Bucky watched for people around us. The entire situation felt off, like this was too easy.

Suddenly, agents began bursting in through the doors, none of which I recognized. I looked to Bucky, and he simply yelled, “Run!”

I did as I was told, sliding underneath the door and running into the street, witnesses everywhere as I ran as far as I could. People looked confused, and understandably so, a girl dressed like a debutante running through the city as fast as she can in heels. My heart pounded in my chest, as I kept looking behind me for Bucky, where was Bucky? He had to have made it out, he was a better soldier than me, he was a stronger soldier than me.

20 blocks, at least, thats how far I ran, before I finally stopped. I took so many turns that they would have had to have lost them, but there was no Bucky. I waited in that spot for a little while , an alleyway occupied by a small population of homeless people.

Bucky had to have gotten out, he had to. He just must have gone a different way, yes, that’s it! He had to have just taken a different route, ended up in a different part of the city. We would find each other later.

I looked down to what I was wearing, the clothing too distinctive. I scanned my surroundings, seeing a girl, roughly my age and size.  I went up to her, surprising her slightly.

“Hey, do you think I could trade clothes with you?” She looked at me funny for a second, but then quickly nodded. The two of us walked into the privacy that the shadows of the alley provided, shucking layers of clothing off of us, trading what one had for the other.

As I zipped up the sweatshirt and jeans given to me, I looked at the girl, still confused and concerned as to why I had asked her to take the clothing.

“You’re gonna be able to get at least 2,000 for this at a pawn shop, don’t let it get damaged before the morning unless you plan on keeping it.” Her eyes went wide with excitement and nodded, going back to the corner that she had come from.

I left the alleyway, and once again began to move, trying to find a different place to camp out for the night. I had no money, so a hotel was out of the question, and it wasn’t as if I knew anyone that I could stay with.

I was lucky that one of the things that I had gotten real good at during my training, was pickpocketing. No one was the wiser, as I moved flawlessly on the streets, anyone who dared walk next to me was subject to the loss of their wallet. I continued like this until I found myself another homeless camp, huddling in with the mass of smelly bodies.

I turned to one of the people huddled around a small fire, warming his hands. “What city is this?”

“We’re in New York, you really must have taken something strong.”

[keyofjetwolf]

What was your first?

So a horse walks into a rehab and says “ouch”. And not a lot. Then a great deal. While also saying nothing. It’s BoJack, in rehab, and going about as well as you might think!

“The Stopped Show” may not have been much about BoJack, but “A Horse Walks Into A Rehab” makes up for it by being 99.9% BoJack, setting aside the brief appearance of the other characters to set their stages for when we get back to them. Diane’s in a shitty motel, Todd’s in a seedy alleyway, Princess Caroline has her porcupine baby, and Mr. Peanutbutter continues to deliver cheer while everything around him burns AND drowns. I’ve now touched base with them about as much as the season premier, and we’ll get busy ignoring them.

As I said, BoJack is the star today, and we continue his quest for ... what, exactly?

Trying to pin it down, that “what is BoJack looking for” question, it’s a lot harder to answer than I expected, which marks another instance of me fucking myself, GOOD JOB ME.

I initially said “punishment”, but that isn’t true, or a least, is too easy. BoJack wants accountability for his actions -- which is a very different thing than punishment -- but he wants it in a way that also absolves him from having to do any work to rise above it. So you’d think he’d love this, the constant claim in rehab that he’s powerless. It seems like the answer to everything, a blanket pass to excuse his behaviour because he’s powerless. Why doesn’t he? I’m not sure I’m entirely clicking with the heart of that, so come with me as I have a poke at it.

For one, I doubt very much rehab would begin and end with “you’re powerless, oh well”. Addiction is some nasty business, but in and of itself, it’s a symptom, not the problem. That in mind, we swing back then to BoJack having to put in the work, only now it’s with the removal of his favourite coping mechanisms.

I think what he was hoping to get out of rehab was more along the lines of “Vodka is a naughty irresistible siren who topples even the most noble of men, but if you cross your eyes and click your heels, you’ll be free from her spell forevermore.” And yeah, no.

I think we get some of that in how, for a while, rehab seems to suit BoJack.

To the point I very specifically said to Doc as I was watching this, “Oh shit, did BoJack just become even MORE insufferable?” He’s okay so long as he has the comfort of the scripts and the regimented plant therapy and the same hike every day. When he starts to get fucked is when he has push further, when he has to work harder, when the treatment demands MORE.

“I notice you tend to deflect when I ask you about the source of your addiction,” his therapist says, causing BoJack to immediately deflect, first with a joke and then, when that doesn’t work, attacking the entire system. Getting to the root of his problem is the last thing BoJack wants, to the point where the entire episode ITSELF is one giant deflection. I made a joke in passing up there about our passing moments with each of the other main characters, but that’s actually it, that’s the heart of this episode.

Each of these are efforts by the episode to deflect what’s going on NOW, tempting us with something shiny and interesting, if only we’d take the bait. I ONLY JUST MADE THIS CONNECTION WELL FUCKING DONE SHOW

And of course, there’s Jameson’s story, which is part deflection, part contrast. She’s intended to appear at first like someone BoJack can relate to, a Sara Lynn Pt. 2 that he wants to save and in whom he sees so much of himself. In equal parts, he’s the adult trying to guide her and the force enabling her, and I’d have to do a bit more thinking on whether I thought his success with her was about him walking both sides of that line, or Jameson just, at the end of the day, being lucky. Either way, it’s also not really about her, so much as BoJack talking a really good game at her, while giving her all the tools to make the worst choices.

Which is, I think, where the episode finally settles. BoJack’s choices have been his own, but they aren’t made in isolation. Throughout this episode, we get moments, presented in reverse chronological order, that could on their own answer that key question: When was the first time you drank?

To settle your nerves to get through a scene everyone was counting on you to nail?

To fit in with the cool kids at high school?

To win your father’s approval?

What’s brilliant to me about each of these flashbacks is that the further into the past we go, the more willing we are to absolve BoJack. In the first, he’s a professional actor required to kiss an attractive and consenting fellow professional in the course of a performance. Nervous? Makes total sense. Getting plastered to do it? LESS SENSE.

The high school one is the most damning, which I adore. BoJack’s the butt of some light bullying by the jock, and I don’t mean to completely dismiss that it sucks, but the remainder of events before he starts in on the beers shows he’s hardly an absolute social pariah. And even if he were, once he begins to drink, BoJack doesn’t just become the life of the party, he becomes cruel (demonstrating quite well that jokes aren’t his only tool of deflection). Worse, that he KNOWS he’s doing it, but cares more about his positive attention than their negative. Still, BoJack’s a kid and peer pressure is a hell of a thing. This isn’t a good look, but it’s also not damning, if he’d come to learn from it. 

Now we jump the line to, I’d guess, ten or eleven year old BoJack, who walks in on his father having an affair with his secretary, but too young to recognize what he’s seen. Butterscotch can’t take the risk though, so he effortlessly manipulates little BoJack into getting drunk and passing out, then uses BoJack’s shame about it to keep him quiet on the whole evening. UNDER THE GUISE OF BEING HIS FRIEND AND DOING HIM A FAVOUR BY THE WAY. No question, Butterscotch is a son of a bitch, and the only thing BoJack did wrong here was crave his parent’s love.

Even with the high school one being a little more grey, they’re all pretty cut and dry. Remember that we’re following the thread of “When was the first time you drank?” and to land on the answer “When my unrepentantly dickish father lied to me to save his own ass” puts a pretty solid punctuation mark on the whole affair. Addiction may not be at fault, but Butterscotch Horseman is. Case closed, we can go home.

BUT WAIT WHAT’S THIS

Right at the end, when you think we’re done, there’s one more flashback. A party of some sort, possibly New Year’s. The house sounds empty, there’s only the looping of the record player, stuck repeating the same five seconds again and again and again. Butterscotch and Beatrice are passed out drunk, judging from the empty bottles around them. Was it a good party? A bad one? She has her back to him and they’re about as far apart as they could get while still remaining in the room, but also, nothing’s broken? It’s impossible to know.

What we do know is that BoJack, aged about where we saw him in the “Free Churro” flashback so maybe seven or so? Very young, at any rate, and he’s alone. There doesn’t appear to be anything in the room for a child, so it’s probably fair to say he wasn’t included in the festivities. Did he have something to do instead? His own party maybe? Friends to play with, someone to watch him? Did he even get dinner? From what we’ve seen, “no” is a much more likely answer to any or all of these.

AND NOW THE FIRST TO PUNCH YOU IN THE HEART

Tiny BoJack knocks back several gulps of vodka (like a fucking pro, may I add), then crawls onto the couch next to his unconscious mother, pretending for just a few minutes that she’s cuddling him until he, too, will fall into a drunken slumber.

RIGHT SO WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO WITH THIS JESUS WEPT

Had you told me “Just wait, seven year old flashback BoJack is going to muddy the hell out of this” I wouldn’t have ... okay, well, I know the show, so I probably would’ve believed you, but I would’ve been preemptively grumpy.

This isn’t his fault! But it is! This isn’t his parent’s fault, but it super super is! Nobody MADE BoJack drink the vodka, as the scene goes to great lengths to show. There is nobody to tell him to do anything at all. Beatrice is three fucking sheets to the wind, she has no idea he’s there and he could have pretend cuddled all night AND stayed sober. Did baby BoJack, like adult BoJack, take the drink to calm his nerves for an expression of physical intimacy? Would baby BoJack have even known that was an option? Remember, this is framed as the answer to the question “When was the first time you drank?” Not “took a drink”, but “you DRANK”, the phrasing of which I think is important. It’s all about the root of the problem. What I get out of that question is then is “the first time you drank to numb yourself”.

Baby BoJack is looking at this disaster, this mess that is his every day no matter how many party hats and streamers you stick on it, and he wants anything else at all. So he turns to the easiest thing he knows will take it away the fastest. The situation isn’t his fault. The opportunity isn’t his fault. But the response IS, in a way that EVEN AS I SAY IT, makes me feel shitty.

CONGRATS BOJACK HORSEMAN FOR MAKING ME SEE A LITERAL CHILD SLAMMING BACK VODKA STRAIGHT FROM THE BOTTLE AND MAKING ME GO “okay, but”.

SEASON SIX SHOULD BE A WALK IN THE PARK

[hogwartsfirebolt]

Hi again! This is part two (out of three!) of my 2019 drarry fic recs. In the first part I recommended ten of my absolute favorite stories I read this year, and here I am today with ten more that I also love dearly and hope you’ll enjoy too. The banner art is by one of my FAVORITE ARTISTS, @aceveria-art who was kind enough to let me use their art for this and just LOOK AT THAT STUNNING PIECE (here’s the link for you to reblog if you want cause omg). Now, in no particular order, here’s some of my

FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2019 PART TWO

1. Of Wands and Trees - Omi_Ohmy - 45k - All Draco wants to do is be a wandmaker, but to do so he needs to understand the soul of trees. Of course, the only man who might be able to help him is the one man who is more of a mystery to him than any tree.

We’re starting out this list with this absolute gemstone of a fic. It’s got everything: adventure, redemption, cabins in the middle of nowhere, a spin on the kind of magic we’re used to in this fandom, ancient trees, passion, wandlore, Draco being forced to work for his own food, Harry bathing naked in streams (my mouth’s watering as we speak), and it’s so, so good, the writing, the characterizations, the setting so vibrant I felt like I was standing right there. Just, a gem all around.

2. Take Into the Air (My Quiet Breath) - guardianmira - 11k - Draco is dying of Hanahaki Disease. Serves him right, Harry thinks.

This fic felt, to me, like something completely different from the eighth year fics I usually read, and, having found it by accident, it absolutely blew my mind! I did not expect to love it as much as I did, and I definitely did not expect to feel it as deeply as I did. Just the right amount of angst to give us that sweet, sweet relief at the end. Very lovely.

3. We have a Problem - @xx-thedarklord-xx - 3k - Weddings tend to have a variety of things happening at one time. With a groom as meticulous as Draco, Ron expected nothing to go wrong. When shenanigans, walkouts, disasters, no-shows, and a lack of food strike, it’s up to Ron to save the day.

SO SWEET. Just so, so freaking sweet and funny and different. Ron’s POV was fresh and lovely and so clever, and the plot is hilarious and engaging. It reads so quickly that you will barely feel time passing, and I am 10000% sure that everyone’s bound to adore this. It’s just one of those fics. I cannot recommend it enough. It will be the absolute best 15-20 minutes of your day.

4. Foreplay - @lqtraintracks - 6k - Getting a raging hard-on on the duelling room floor, pinned under Harry Potter’s sweaty body, is not how Draco saw his day going, but… Well, here he is.

Mmfffff. Can barely think about this without having to fan myself, because it’s probably the hottest fic I read all year. Aurors sparring, a Harry who is unbelievably hot, a Draco who tries but simply can’t resist him, showers, a bit of semi-public sex, and the very literal definition of “not safe for work” can be found in here. Just, goodness, it should’ve taken me half an hour to read it and it took about one because I KEPT STOPPING TO BREATHE. Lqt never fails to deliver powerful, incredibly sexy stories and you should all go see for yourselves what I’m talking about.

5. Safe Words - felix_atticus - 26k - Draco discovers his husband has been keeping a secret from him. At first he’s amused. Then he’s curious. The problem? Harry’s always had a hard time saying no.

Speaking of powerful, this one here stabbed me right in the chest and twisted the knife, but in the absolute best way possible. It’s FANTASTIC. The writing is beautiful, the characterizations astounding, and I felt every single emotion so deep inside me. It paints how difficult it is to navigate trust, how impossible it feels to put our own wants and needs over what’s expected of us, explores consent in so many different aspects of life and just presents a beautiful relationship at its core. It really is gorgeous.

6. Upstaged - @lettersbyelise - 3k - West End actor Drake O'Malley starts receiving fanmail from a (not so mysterious) stranger.

The epistolary format already makes this stand apart from our usual fic, but the plot itself is also something I hadn’t ever read before. It’s written so smoothly that it reads like a dream, and I loved every second of it and how it allowed me to build up an entire picture of what was happening with each letter. I’ve gone back to it two or three times just to experience it all over again, and I always have a great time when I do. This is so lovely, witty and just different.

7. Pure Imagination - @aibidil - 14k - An eighth-year tale of depressed happiness, reluctant imagination, and conflicted hope. And skateboarding.

My god is this fic lovely. I spent about three quarters of it clutching my chest because I loved it so much, I love these kids so much and it hit me right in the feels to see everything they go through after the dust of the war settles and they have to figure out their place in life. This is hope in a jar, it’s that light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel story that becomes a metaphor for life itself. A beautiful, beautiful ride.

8. Poor Unfortunate Souls - @doubleappled - 19k - Draco is a potioneer. Harry is trying to save his sex-challenged marriage. Everything is a mess, but at least there’s an octopus in the lobby.

Chaotic, unique, HOT!!! The whole set up is brilliant, Draco’s work is very interesting, the scenes where we get to see with Harry and Ginny are so incredibly well done that my jaw fell to the floor a little, and what can I even say about the entire buildup we get for Draco and Harry’s relationship, it was MASTERFUL. This fic is absolutely amazing and the ending is so good I can still savor it when I remember it. Go check it out, right now!!!

9. Weather With You - @quicksilvermaid - 29k - Flood. Heatwave. Cyclone. Epic storm ready to rip London apart? Something strange is happening to the weather inside the Ministry of Magic…–Featuring magical creatures, Harry wearing minimal clothes, a snarky snake, and Draco Malfoy who is definitely Up To Something.

This story is such a fun ride that can, at times, be absolutely freaking hilarious (the whole “He Is Up To Something” narrative never fails to crack me up), and at times become sweet and tender. There is nothing more relatable to me than a Draco who wants Harry so much he doesn’t even know what to do with himself, and it was a joy to read him here, and actually, both of their characterizations are so fantastic that they definitely feel like an extension of what we know about them to begin with, and I just had the best of times watching them work their way out of this mess. Sprinkle in a bit of parseltongue, witty snakes and shirtless Harry, and you’ve found yourself the best way to spend the evening.

10. A Sword Laid Aside - @korlaena - 128k - When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be. Draco has to navigate dealing with this Potter while being hunted by Dark wizards and wanted by extremists in the Ministry. When things take a turn for the worse, Draco has to decide whether he’s going to keep running or find a way to protect the world and the people he cares about most.

There are so many things I want to say about this one, so many little details that drove me wild and I want to mention but I just… I- this story is absolutely MIND BLOWING, it’s deep, it’s amazing and frankly extraordinary and I don’t even know how to tell you how much I adore every single word of it. This must be one of my absolute favorite versions of Harry that I’ve ever read, his immense power, his internal conflict, pain and sheer physicality made me weak in the knees; Draco’s characterization is also so heartbreakingly spot on that I could barely believe what I was reading. This story gripped me, squeezed me, spun me around a little and then put me upright again, and there is honestly nothing like it. I haven’t even told you anything about the plot, which… omg. There are no words to tell you how much you NEED to read this. Just typing this is making me want to embark on this adventure again. — I have no excuse for the amount of Harry thirst to be found on this list, I just- well. I really hope you like these little gems! Hahaha. If you do end up reading any of them and want to chat about them, or have questions about any tags or warnings that might worry you, my DMs are always open!!! Enjoy ❤️

[gloves94]

Sunburn [Prince Zuko] 5

Warnings: None   Rating: PG-13   Pairings: Zuko/OC   Summary:  “You have everything you’ve ever wanted.” “No.” He said softly. “Not everything…”  His golden eyes looked at her with a melting intensity she had never witnessed before. “I guess not.” She responded with glassy eyes as tears welled up threatening to break the dam of her eyes.

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

"Admiral Zhao is not allowing ships in or out of this area." A soldier from Commander Zhao's fleet had stepped into Team Zuko's. He had basically barged in an demanded that the prince hand over all information in regards of the Avatar. And here Iroh the ever optimistic thought they were here for a game of Pai Sho.

"I've got nothing to report to Zhao," Zuko stated coldly as he looked at the floor and then glared at the soldiers that stood before him. "Now off my ship!" He roared casting Tsai to jump slightly as he pointed them out.

'Who is this Zhao?'

Tsai knew that it wasn't hard to get under Zuko's skin, but there was something about this man that seemed to really irritate him. Or maybe it was the fact they had been sailing northeast without a single sighting in the past couple of days. Not knowing much about the war or its generals or commanders she remained clueless to his man's identity, but would he would he have to crawl over her dead body if she was just going to let somebody take her destiny of bringing peace to the Fire Nation world. Approaching the table she read over a wanted poster that some of the soldiers were looking at.

"It says here that the Avatar can create tornadoes and run faster than the wind," one of the soldiers read aloud in awe. "Pretty amazing!" Another said.

Tsai blinked twice taken aback when an image of a boy no older than twelve which was painted on the poster. He was just a child, a bald child with eager eyes and a tattooed arrow pointing down the middle of his forehead. "But he's just a child," she gaped in surprise. All this time she had been imagining a very old man. But if he was a child- why on Earth hadn't Zuko been able to capture him?

She didn't know much about air benders. No one did, after all they had been extinct for the past one hundred years. Part of her wished the ship had a library where she could research information about the Avatar, but wait maybe there was something she could do...

"Tsai, care to join us for a game of Pai Sho? I think they are getting better," Iroh called. "I'll pass for now. I have to write to my family," it wasn't a complete lie. "Good luck gentleman," she smiled sweetly at the men making some of them swoon.

Xxx

'Brother,

I hope you are well. I know I have been gone less than a week. I hope you don't miss me too much. I also wish I could tell you where I am, but it is hard to pin point. We are presently sailing northwest hot on the Avatar's trail. Can you believe it?

Iroh has been a most gracious host. I enjoy spending time with him, he really reminds me of grandpa, and the prince well- tell mother not to get too excited, but he does have some redeeming qualities (and a terrible temper as well).

Mecha, I need to ask you yet another favor. Please send me all information you might have on air benders or air bending. Turns out the Avatar is only a child! A slippery one that is if he's had Prince Zuko chasing him all over the world with no success.

Lots of love to the family,

- Your Sister Tsai'

Tsai came down from the commander tower after having sent out a fire hawk home to her brother. Coming down she encountered a fire show of the prince angrily kicking and punching bold strokes of dangerous fire in all directions. He even appeared to be radiating anger.

"Hey, you O.K.?" She found herself asking once again. She put her hands on her waist as she eyed him carefully barely dodging a fire blast which headed in her direction. Part of her suspected that had not been an accident. He wore a maroon training tunic that showed off his toned arms.

"Perfectly fine," he grumbled. Obviously not pleased. "Is it because of that man Zhao?" She pressed on. "We can't give up yet! We can still find the Avatar before him," she said in a determined tone. "We?"He scoffed incredulously.

As far as he knew Tsai brought nothing to table except for maybe tea and Pai Sho. She nodded holding a fist to her chest a determined glint in her honey brown eyes. "I know we can do it!"

"She's right Prince Zuko," Iroh suddenly appeared. "I was becoming worried when you hadn't ordered your men in the past hour."

"How? With Zhao's resources, it's just a matter of time before he captures the Avatar," he stated upset. He turned and lowered his voice into almost a whisper, "My honor, my throne, my country... I'm about to lose them all." A somber gust of wind passed by.

Seeing him like this. Seeing anybody like this broke the girl's mushy heart. She looked at him sadly.

"But you have something Zhao doesn't have!" She said animatedly.

Both Iroh and Zuko turned to look at her with expecting eyes. "Something worth fighting for!"

His fists clenched at his sides in fury. "That's absolutely useless!" He roared in frustration. She flinched a little at his tone. I mean she was only trying to help...

"Prince Zuko, a word from Zhao's men. Apparently the Admiral has the Avatar on his compound grounds."

Tsai closed her eyes not wanting to witness the volcano that was about to explode in front of her. 'Talk about bad timing.' Her hair was whipped wildly by several heat waves.

Shutting her eyes even tighter she set her mind to it, she was determined to do something about this. If Zhao had the Avatar that meant that the odds of her having a chance at achieving her grandfather's dream would be destroyed.

Xxx

It was already the evening. Zuko braced himself for the battle that he would encounter tonight. He put his twin blades on his back and shed his princely identity becoming a Blue Spirit of the night. He was ready to sneak out when a gentle knock made him freeze on the spot.

"H-Hey," a voice said softly.

It was Tsai.

"I'm really sorry about today. Just know I'm going to try my best to help out more from now on. I understand if you're still upset. Well, have a good night then." He hadn't realized that he had been holding his breath all of this time. He slowly released it when he heard her foot steps trail off.

Meanwhile Tsai tip toed around the ship until she reached the deck where some of the soldier's were currently lounging keeping their night guard.

"Gentleman," she coed in a soft voice.

Their jaws dropped at the sight. One wolf whistled inappropriately. They were basically salivating at the sight of the lady before them. Her eyes were coated with cleverly applied dark make up, more than she usually wore. Perfect for an evening look. Her lips were rogue and her features had been professionally contoured. Crimson hair cascaded down her back in full waves. "Anybody feel like taking me ashore?" She popped her hip to the side dramatically batting her eyelashes.

A few moments later Tsai was ashore standing outside the gates of the Pohuai Stronghold  She noted the way it was heavily armed and had no trouble batting her eyelashes getting inside. One of the few advantages of war was that these men hadn't seen a woman in ages.

xxx

"Tell me, how does it feel to be the only airbender left?" Zhao taunted the Avatar as he rounded him in a chamber. "Do you miss your people?" He pressed on leaning maliciously close towards the boy.

Taking in a massive breath the Avatar blew the man hard against the metal door making him lose his balance and ungracefully fall on his face. "Blow all the wind you want. Your situation is futile. There is no escaping this fortress and nobodyis coming to rescue you." He scowled.

"Admiral Zhao," a soldier suddenly entered the chamber. "You better come quick Sir." he urged, "Y-You've got an important guest," he adjusted his helmet his face slightly turning scarlet.

Zhao raised an eyebrow with intrigue. He had not been expecting anybody. Could it have been that Fire Lord Ozai had sent a personal gift to him? He ran a hand through his hair combing it down in a narcissistic matter.

Xxx

Tsai had been brought to a waiting room which wasn't nearly as elegant as the one in her home. She sat comfortably with a relaxed expression on her features, her poise and feet had been placed in a strategic way which she knew highlighted her best features. (She had also stuffed her bra with two apples although she would never confess that to anyone). She wore a flattering emerald green kimono dress that fit her in all the right places a jade butterfly clip held half of her hair up elegantly.

"I wasn't expecting any company tonight." A man whom Tsai assumed to be Admiral Zhao walked in. He air of arrogance seemed to follow him. He was a middle-aged military man with dark gray hair and sharp sideburns that made his features appear more angular. A smug smirk twisted on his lips. "Ms. Haru of Hu Xin," his eyes scanned her body tracing every curve and inch of her visible skin.

"I had heard tales of the man, the myth, the legend-"

Tsai almost threw up in her mouth. She could not believe she had just said that. It was official she had been reading way too many cheesy plays. As disgusting as this was, she had a plan, and a part to play if she wanted to succeed. She rose to her feet slightly draping one of the sleeves down to display a bare shoulder. "Had to come see it myself. Meet the infamous Admiral Zhao." She spoke as she rounded him. His eyes followed her, enjoying every minute of having his ego stroked. "Congrats on the promotion," she spoke lowly in an attempt to sound both older and more mature. How old was he anyways?

"How old are you Haru?" He said with an edge of suspicion raising up an eyebrow. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to ask a lady for her age?" She let out a throaty chuckle as she flirted. "I'm almost twenty," she lied with skill tossing him back a look.

Tsai lied through her teeth the entire night. She had managed to convince a high ranking military officer, an admiral, that she was around town visiting her cousin and upon hearing the news that the now 'famed' admiral was in town, well she just had to visit. It was such an absurd lie and Zhao appeared to be such an ego maniac that he totally ate it up. The two were currently sitting on one of the sofa seats. Both were drinking some wine that the admiral had been reserving for a special occasion. With every minute that passed he inched closer and closer to her wanting more than just hand holding or gentle strokes. Tsai's ruse was beginning to collapse. She had to get out of here and fast. She chuckled nervously as the man stroked her waist and slowly inched his hand lower and lower. He was also leaning in closer-

"Ah-I'm-Um.. I need to use the restroom!" She declared jumping to her feet. The Admiral collapsed on the sofa and turned to look at her with an elbow propped holding his head up. "Don't be long," he purred.

Knowing him he probably found his intimidation to be 'endearing' or something twisted amongst those lines.

The girl tiptoed out in to the hallway and let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding once she was out of his sight. Great- now she had to find the Avatar. If she was Zhao were would he keep the Avatar? Probably close by, tall in this tower. She rushed up the stairs running as fast as she could. She really had no time to waste.

Xxx

The Blue Spirit had successfully infiltrated Zhao's compound base. He snuck in floor by floor until he reached the top of the tower. However, he was surprised when he did not encounter any soldiers. Only evidence of a conflict. Abandoned helmets rolled down the empty hallways. Marks of conflicts, stains of blood and slashes had scarred the walls of the military compound.

There was also water in the floor and a wooden bucket which had been smashed to bits and pieces.

'Just- what happened here?' Zuko thought to himself. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Somebody had beat him to it. There was somebody else here.

xxx

Aang heard what sounded like punched being thrown followed by painful screams. He brazed himself and kept his eyes focused on the steel door that was across from him. It was then that the door opened and a beautiful woman walked in. She exhaled sharply quickly running her hands through her wavy red colored hair combing it back into place. His jaw dropped as she ran towards him. Her emerald dressing robes fluttering behind as she did.

"There's no time," she stood before him and upon closeness Aang realized she was only a teenager. One in a very poor disguise. "Who are y-" He began to ask. "No time," she hissed glaring and pulled an apple from the inside of her robe slamming it against his open mouth silencing him. She appeared to be picking at the locks with the back of her hair pin. It was then that the door behind the two was once again shut.

xxx

Both Aang and Tsai couldn't believe what they were seeing an individual wearing black with a Blue Spirit theater mask entered the room. Aang bit the apple hard the fruit collapsing on the floor as he swallowed almost choking on the piece of apple.

Xxx

Zuko blinked twice, shook to his core. He was thankful for the mask for it hid his expression of shock and disbelief. Was he hallucinating?

'How had- there was no way- but- it had to be.'

Pulling out his twin blades be began an elaborate display of mastery over the blades. The Avatar let out a loud scream. The lady wearing the emerald dress kimono stood before him pushing him behind, shielding him with her body.

"Shh!!" She hissed as the Avatar screeched for his life. The masked individual came closer and evenly sliced the Avatar's hand restrains. Aang felt his arms drop as the blood rush back to them. The Avatar and his lovely savior looked at the masked individual in shock.

Xxx

Zuko stood mere inches away from her. Now he was more certain than ever. It was most definitely her. It was Tsai and she appeared to be wearing some type of disguise. Regardless, she looked-

He shook his head. He snapped back to reality realizing that both his uncle's royal guest and the Avatar were starring at him with their eyes the size of golf balls. He lowered his weapons also freeing the Avatar's feet. Tsai and Aang exchanged a look as Zuko walked towards the door. "What's going on?"

The red-headed beauty slowly walked over to the Blue Spirit. Her light brown eyes were focused on him. Friend or foe? She measured her opponent. There was something familiar about his stance, about his posture, something that she couldn't put her finger on.

It was impossible. Zuko remained in shock. Not a single hair out of place, her clothes remained impeccable with no signs of struggle. He looked at her hands both resting at her sides without a weapon.

Also- how on Earth had she even gotten of the ship?

"I think he's here to save you," she spoke after making a decision. Sticking a hand into her dress she pulled out an apple from her chest, her expression serious. "Listen here," She reached for the spirit's dark shirt and fisted it pulling the mask close to her face. She paused for a moment attempting to catch a glimpse of any notable feature underneath the mask. "I have important things to do, places to be-" she hissed out. Her grip becoming tighter.

Zuko had never seen her like this, had never seen her eyes hold such darkness in them.

"I'm entrusting you with the Avatar Blue Spirit and I've got news for you. If anything happens to him. If there is a scratch on his bald head, a broken limb, if any harm comes to him-" Her hand trembled slightly before the apple she had been holding in her hand was crushed into a juice mash just with her grip strength. The message was loud and clear. "Got that?" She finished menacingly before letting go pushing the masked individual slightly.

"Wait!" Aang called out. "Who are you?!"

It was too late. She was gone.

xxxxx

FIRST https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621142853126602752/sunburn-prince-zuko-1

NEXT https://gloves94.tumblr.com/post/621233046237184000/sunburn-prince-zuko-6

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CHAPTER MASTERLIST

[yegarts]

“I Am YEG Arts” Series: Hunter Cardinal

The magic of collaboration and connection starts with an encounter. If you’re an artist reading this, you likely have goosebumps. If you’re the artist who said it, you’re Hunter Cardinal, a sakāwithiniwak (Woodland Cree) theatre artist, hailing from Sucker Creek Cree First Nation. Though his name has been on the lips of Fringe Theatre fans since 2018, he’s most recently gained attention for his and his sister’s newest co-endeavour, Naheyawin. With clients including the Legislative Assembly Office, Naheyawin offers sustainable, Indigenous-based solutions for businesses and institutions working to improve diversity and inclusions and reinvigorate the spirit of Treaty into their organizations.

Regardless of whether he’s writing a play or teaching a workshop, it’s the questions Hunter asks that change the approaches people take. Those skills, paired with his belief that storytellers tell stories for those who need them, help us value our shared histories. Playwright, actor, and myth architect, this week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Hunter Cardinal.

How did you first get involved in the YEG arts community?

I got my start in high school at Strathcona Composite High School! Through the different musicals and training opportunities during that time, I found myself surrounded by incredible teachers and artists from this vibrant community. This often results in me getting to work with people I’ve looked up to for a very long time—something that never gets old for me.

You describe yourself as an Indigenous myth-architect. What does that involve, and what’s the significance of the title?

Myth-architecture is an extension of the teachings we’ve gained from our Elders, who have told us that storytellers tell stories for those who need them. Myth architecture begins with a question that feels important but is without an answer and challenges us to craft a narrative that provides some sort of response. Often, this looks like “completing,” “expanding,” or “setting up” a pre-existing myth. With the play Lake of the Strangers, for example, we completed the myth of Mista Muskwa (The Big Bear) as we tried to answer the question: Why should we heal when there is so much darkness?

Looking back on your success as a first-time playwright with Fringe Theatre, what advice would you give aspiring playwrights?

I would encourage people to use everything they can about themselves and who they are as a person when crafting a story. So often we’re encouraged to leave who we are and whatever we’re bringing with us ‘at the door’ so that we can perform at our best. However, in my experience, the personal is highly universal.

Tell us a little about how Naheyawin came to be and what one of the highlights has been for you.

Naheyawin came from the ways in which my sister and I wanted to combine our passions—storytelling and system thinking—and be of service to our communities. The word Naheyawin, which can be said to translate into ‘the act of being Cree,’ was inspired by a phrase in our family.

That phrase is “When the people forget, the language remembers,” which reminds us that we can look to aspects of who we are—like our language—for guidance and tools to help us with the challenges we’re faced with today. What this looks like today is providing Indigenous-based solutions for the improvement of diversity and inclusion in businesses and organizations across Turtle Island (North America). This can take the form of webinars or us working with organizations on the unique challenges and opportunities they have to better incorporate Indigenous ideas or peoples into their work. I would say a highlight for me is whenever I get the opportunity to facilitate a webinar. I am so honoured to take part in the journey of learning that folx embark on—and so inspired by their open minds and hearts during our time together.

When you’re working with Edmonton businesses or community groups, what do you help them understand about Indigenous spirit.

For me, the most important thing is recognizing the gaps in world views of Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples. We often forget that Indigenous peoples have an entirely different way of looking at the world, so when we are talking about certain things like art, land stewardship, or Treaty—though we are using the same words, we are relating to them in entirely different ways. So recognizing these gaps gives us the opportunity to build those metaphoric bridges that lead to a deeper understanding and innovative solutions.

Did you always want to combine your passions for your work and your culture into your artistry?

Combing my culture into my work was fairly recent for me. I was raised with regular, but not frequent, exposure to things like smudging, going to sweat lodges, and visiting family up north at Sucker Creek First Nation. But it wasn’t until I was struggling with a role for a small project that was exploring Chekhov’s Three Sisters that I saw the utility of my culture and identity. For the entire process, I felt like the worst actor in the whole world (an all too familiar feeling)—every choice I made felt awkward and contrived, and nothing felt authentic or realized. When debriefing with my director at the time, he drew a connection between my character’s love of Latin and my love of Indigenous languages—and then everything changed for me. I felt like I had permission to use parts of myself that I otherwise would have ignored because I didn’t think it would be useful or appropriate (kind of tragic when I think about it). I then explored using parts of my identity as an Indigenous 20-something male as the backbone of my role as Hamlet at the Freewill Shakespeare Festival and felt like I could bring something very unique and grounded to that role.

What role has mentorship played in your life? Is there a piece of advice that you carry with you?

Mentorship has guided me entirely through my career—so it would be difficult to pin down just one piece of advice. But if I had to pick one, it would be the late Brent Carver sharing with me that in order to be fully present in a scene, an actor cannot leave themselves at the door. The bits of your life, emotions, etc., that you carry with you throughout the day can be fuel for creating beautiful, authentic, and singular moments on the stage. In that teaching, I walked away with the feeling that I am more than enough, and every single part of who I am and where my life has taken me is valuable.

What excites you most about the YEG arts scene right now?

The community. Edmonton has such a thriving scene here—and I would attribute that to the wonderful people that make this such an incredible ecosystem. All the success I’ve been fortunate to experience was all given to me (freely, without question) by those in this community—the roles, experiences, training, and connections.

A lot of the themes in your work seem to focus on the benefits of talking and listening—the richness of understanding. How have you seen that turn into meaningful change.

Talking and listening—whether as an actor, artist, or just a human going about their day—allows you to take a moment to connect with whoever or whatever is around you. That moment of reflection can also allow you to ground yourself in who you are, the values you enter a space with, etc., while at the same time allowing others to be different and unique themselves. I find that this moment to remember that you are connected—yet distinct—can really help folx become a more rooted ally, actor, or person. Often this can be done by asking yourself things like: what or who brought me here? How? What is my goal? What or who is around me?

Why do you choose to live and work in Edmonton?

I’m living here because this is where my friends and family are! When I’ve travelled or lived in other cities, I have always missed the sense of community here. Plus, the cost of living here is much more reasonable than Toronto or Vancouver. Also, I have a great connection to a local farmer for some very high quality, grass-fed beef.

What kind of city do you hope to help Edmonton become?

I hope this city becomes a place where folx feel connected to the larger stories that we’re connected to as Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples. The richness of our shared histories makes me so excited to be here, and I really hope that people feel that in the future when they think about their connection to this place. Not only that, I hope that they feel a sense of wonder at the futures that await us.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Hunter Cardinal and Nahayawin

About Hunter Cardinal

Hunter Cardinal is a sakāwithiniwak (Woodland Cree) theatrical artist hailing from Sucker Creek Cree First Nation and currently based in Edmonton, Alberta. Holding a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Acting degree from the University of Alberta, class of 2015, Hunter has performed across Canada and off-Broadway in New York. Recent stage credits include Titus Bouffonious (Theatre Network), Lake of the Strangers (Naheyawin and Fringe Theatre) and Hamlet (Freewill Shakespeare Festival). He is humbled by the steadfast support of his community, with notable achievements to date including the 2020 Elizabeth Sterling Haynes Award for Outstanding Performance in a Supporting Role in a Comedy for his work as Fink in Titus Bouffonious, the 2019 Elizabeth Sterling Haynes Award for Outstanding New Play given to Lake of the Strangers, his first play co-written with his sister and dubbed Edmonton’s Best Actor by Vue Weekly in 2018.

[quarantinebreakup412081121]

Day 2:  Break ups happen every day, you don’t have to lose it

And yet it feels like I have.  It feels like I’ve actually lost something worth having this time.  Something that I still want.  Someone that I still want.  Someone that I still NEED.  I’m sure my opinion will change on this as time passes, but everything about this situation is exceedingly difficult for me to process, especially since I still don’t have an understanding of what the hell happened.  How am I ever supposed to truly move on from this?  I haven’t told anyone this- and I didn’t even tell him- but I loved him... I love him.  Present tense.  After my first ex, I swore I’d never be the first person to say those words again, so I was holding on to them, hoping that he’d reach the same point sooner rather than later, and hoping that, for the first time, I’d have a real, true, solid, loving, healthy relationship.

I don’t want to go back to Tinder.  And honestly, at this point, even after I give myself some time, I think they’re right when they say Tinder is the clearance rack of humans.  Except sometimes you get pretty decent stuff from the clearance rack...  Tinder aside, I don’t want to go back to anything.  And I know this is how I felt when my first ex and I ended, and obviously I don’t feel that way about him now- but with this one... it feels so different and I can’t understand how I can feel so deeply and passionately about someone who was able to throw me and our months of experiences- months of life- away with a single text.

I’ve cried enough times today that my eyelids are actually swollen.  I’m okay sometimes- on the outside- then I’m crying.  I’m always crying on the inside.  I have been since 12:50pm yesterday.  I woke up and for almost a solid 30 seconds forgot what happened, and then it hit me.  And that’s probably only because I had stayed up until almost 4am unable to sleep because of all the emotions running through me.

I am physically and mentally exhausted on levels I never reached during my last breakup- and that was a breakup from a 5 year relationship.

I wonder if  he knows how much this is hurting me.  I wonder if he cares.  If maybe, he knew it wouldn’t work out and he was genuinely saving us from both getting more invested in something that wouldn’t work, but also feels badly about what he did.  Does he carry any guilt?  Or has he forgotten about me already?  Has he thrown away the matching t-shirts we had- including the one I special ordered, that we NEVER WORE.  Has he disposed of the shampoo and conditioner I left in his shower?  Has he tossed the deck of question cards I left because we still had a few to go to finish the entire set?  Has he gotten rid of the blanket I gave his dog- something to cover the couch so she’d be allowed to sit on it?  Has he thrown out the Ellie Badge Grape Soda pin that I gave him after we watched Up?  I wanted him to be in my club.  I wanted him to be the Carl to my Ellie.  I really wanted all of that.  I remember giving it to him.  I told him I had a surprise for him and I showed up wearing the matching shirt (Peas in a Pod #1 and #2) and then had the pin in my pocket.  He gave me a hug and tickled me, then pulled the pin from my pocket and dropped it in the hood of my sweatshirt when he reached back around to hug me.  I felt it and immediately knew where it was- and when I handed it to him, I didn’t even have to remind him of what it was.  He opened it and pinned it to his shirt right away and wore it for the rest of the day.  Afterward, he kept it on top of the shelf in his bedroom, along with a card I’d sent him in the mail and the deck of question cards.

This is the same man who simply stopped wanting to hang out- but didn’t say that- and then essentially ghosted me.  I don’t understand it.  I don’t know how to make myself come to terms with whatever it is that happened.  How does someone change so quickly and so dramatically?

I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what to do.  I just... I can’t anymore.

[loving-barnes]

Winter’s Song (3) - Bucky Barnes x reader x Loki

(A/N): I have posted this one a long time ago on my wattpad profile... so, here it is, finally. Part 3 for you, whom have not read it. Sorry for the massive delay.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader x Loki

Warnings: none

Words: 2170

PART 3

She was holding a book in hands while walking down the hall to the library. For today, the maids picked a silky green dress with a loose skirt that was floating behind her. Her hair was pinned in a complicated braid that took an hour to make. Some of the baby hairs and loose hair was beautifully framing her face. She felt that having her head buried in books was the best option for the day and no one would keep her away from them.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," a chuckle came behind her back. It belonged to Loki, who had been stalking her the whole time. "Green suits you well, my princess," he came to her side and reached for the book. "Let me help you with that."

Y/N turned from him, protecting the book. "I can manage, thank you, prince Loki," she sighed, continuing walking to her destination. "What brings you here, my prince?" she tried to remain polite, hoping he would leave her alone soon.

"Ah, you see, I've heard that you have a magnificent library in the castle, filled with books from different realms of all genres. So, I have asked to be shown this magical place of yours and to my luck, I found you on my way there."

Well, she wouldn't get rid of him at all. "I am on my way to the library," she cleared her throat, obviously being more annoyed than before. It was her special place; she was supposed to be there alone with books. That was not happening. "If you follow me, I can show you where it is situated," she said it with gritted teeth.

It seemed to please him a lot. "Finally, I will have the opportunity to spend some quality time with you, princess. I think I know everything about your two dull sisters. I am surprised that the King wants to marry those two first. But now, because I have the chance, I am more curious about you."

They came together to the library that was coated in wood and gold. Each shelf was filled with different kinds of books from different worlds that probably ever existed. Maybe it was not just nine realms – it was way more. "I am very sorry, my prince, but I am afraid I will not have the time for you, now. I have a lot of studying to do."

He smirked and kept going. "I believe one day off will not harm." Loki decided to follow her wherever she went. "I am surprised that you have such a passion for books," he kept talking when she picked three books about the history of Midgard. "I, myself, am a keen lover of books if I am truly honest with you. They keep my mind occupied and keep me relaxed."

She glanced at him, quickly thinking about his words. She felt the same way. "Interesting," she whispered, taking a seat in a golden armchair. It was her favourite spot in the room, right next to a massive window that had a view into the garden. "Have you read Midgardian poetry?"

"Mostly interested in the, I believe, European authors – if I am more specific, the regions as Britain and French are quite my favourite," he sat down on to the closest armchair. "The, so-called, Shakespearean era was surely a gift for those pathetic humans."

The way he talked about the people of Earth was not something she liked hearing. She respected every being in the entire universe if their intentions and heart were in the right place.

"Please, mind your words, my prince," she warned him calmly, eyes already focused on the book on her legs. "They are not pathetic. Just because we live here differently and you are a god, does not give you the right to talk like this about them."

He leaned back, scanning the princess with his eyes thoroughly. "Quite opposite than your sisters," he hummed. "While those two were happily shaming and humiliating every soul in the universe, you stand by all of them – shall I say, protect them even if it is just with your words."

"I would put my life for anyone worthy."

He rolled his eyes. "Worthy..."

This was going to be hell; she was sure of it. Before she could open her mouth and say something, the door to the library opened and a servant came inside.

"Your highnesses," he bowed. "The King has requested your presence in the grand hall, immediately."

Y/N closed the book and sighed, not excited for what was about to come. Every time her father would call her for something, it ended in a verbal fight or a punishment. She put the book on the armchair and went to the open door. Loki was immediately following her. He even offered his arm so he could accompany her. It would be very rude if she refused and so she had no other choice than to accept it.

In silence, they walked together to the grand hall. The ladies and noblemen were already there, enthusiastically waiting for the speech the king was about to give.

Y/N's eyes landed on her sisters that were draped over Thor's shoulders, both having heart eyes on faces and flirting with him simultaneously. Once they noticed their younger half-blood accompanied by the younger prince, those eyes were exchanged for rage and hate. Why they hated her so much, she would never know.

"Ah, since you are all here," Y/N's father started to talk, "I would like to inform you about the changes that will happen immediately." This didn't sound good. "The annual Royal Winter Ball will be happening in three days."

The whispers of shock echoed around the room. Y/N was horrified. This unexpected decision and the fact that the King had decided to set the ball earlier was not a good idea for many reasons. One of them included princess Y/N.

She let go of Loki's hand and took a step back. The words that were coming out of the King's mouth were becoming more muted, disappearing in the air and her ears started to ring. Why would the king decide to change the date of the Winter Ball?

"There are three more days for the princes to choose their brides. At the ball, they will announce their decisions and they will be engaged right after."

Y/N's eyes moved to the side, checking on out both sisters. They were whispering something to one-another, smirking under their noses. As if they had a plan for that day. How could they be so evil?

"Does it mean we can choose from any of your daughters?" Loki asked confidently while looking into the king's eyes.

Y/N's father slowly turned to her, swallowing visibly. With a sigh, he nodded. "Yes, all three of them are of age and thus you can choose which one you like."

Loki turned to Y/N, grinning. Her eyes widened and she took a step back. "No," she sighed. She couldn't get married to the princes. Her heart belonged to someone else and she would not stop loving him. Nothing would stop her from being with her soulmate; with someone that fully understood her - that was just like her.

"You can't," the queen grabbed her husband by his hand. She didn't want Y/N to be involved in this.

"I will not!" she shouted.

"Silence," he raised his voice. "My word is final."

The look of worry in the mother's eyes was scaring the princess. Y/N simply gulped, grabbed the fabric of her long skirt and bowed to the king. It was a simple gesture that said she obeyed the orders. After that, she turned around and started to walk away.

"Always obeying my orders," the king smiled, glad that he did not have to step in.

"Why are you doing this?" she queen whispered, trying not to be suspicious. "We had a deal – your two daughters will be betrothed to them, not Y/N. She is the youngest one."

"And as I said, she is of age," he growled. "I don't care that you don't want her to marry. It is up to the princes to decide."

"You could have said no," she sighed. "We both know that she can't get married."

"I do what I want, my dear."

When Y/N was far enough from everyone, her godmother ran towards her. She grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her into the kitchen where they could have some privacy. It was the perfect place for them to talk because none of the royals would ever visit the kitchen. Y/N's room was too far from them and, now, a dangerous place to talk.

When they came to the room, Y/N was surprised by the people that were inside waiting for her. Wanda and her beloved James were talking to the cooks, both having deep conversations until she arrived. The woman was holding a basket filled with what looked like a piece of fabric. "What is going on?" Y/N asked slowly, trying to stay calm.

"There is no time," the godmother said. "You have to leave the castle, now. You are in danger."

"There has to be some for an explanation," she was confused.

Wanda took out some clothes from the basket and threw it to her. "You need to change into these, and we will get you out of here before they lock you in your room until the ball. And honestly, we don't want that."

"Why?" she asked again while removing the beautiful dress from her body. Some of the maids that were present quickly helped her. They helped her with the corset and the ropes and ribbons. Y/N did not care that James was standing there, carefully watching as she revealed naked legs and arms.

"They want you dead," the godmother continued.

"Who?"

"Your sisters," said Wanda and started to destroy the braids the princess had. "And not just that. There is something darker happening in the castle."

She sighed annoyingly. "I have no idea what you are talking about. I do need more information to fully understand the situation. What is going on?"

Once her hair was loose, Wanda braided it into a simple tale and put a blue bandana over her head. After the last few touches, the princess turned into a simple young woman without a crown. When she saw a reflection in the mirror, she had to smile a little. It was a massive difference for her and she liked it.

The godmother put a blue cloak over her shoulders. "It's cold outside, princess. It has been snowing for the past two hours."

"I am not a princess," Y/N smiled at her, quickly taking the woman's hands into hers. "Not anymore." Then she turned to James. "Will you tell me what is happening once we are gone?"

One of the servants ran into the kitchen. Everyone turned their attention to him. "Prince Loki has decided to come here. You don't have much time. You need to go, now."

James came closer to Y/N and took her hand into his. "Of course, I will," he replied. He had to pull her with him, otherwise, she wouldn't be able to leave. The cooks brought them to a tiny door that served them for a fast passage to the supplies.

"Hurry," the godmother said, and she was quickly folding the dress into a messy ball. The other servant took them and threw them into the fireplace under the stove.

Y/N knew was she had to get to a safe place – and the safest one was when she was with the love of her life and the people she trusted.

James was ready to say something, but she pressed a finger against his lips, telling him to be silent. The halls were echoey and they could be simply exposed.

Wanda was walking behind them, just in case, someone would decide to follow them. She was ready to protect them, even kill if necessary. They all knew that once the royal family realises that the youngest one is missing; the real hell will only begin.

After a while, they appeared in the lower gardens of the castle, where the gardeners would take care of the fruits and vegetables. To their luck, no one was present there, so they were able to continue down the path to the castle barriers. Another person was waiting for them – Vision.

"I was getting worried," he said when they came closer. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Y/N leaned closer to James; bit terrified. Even though she was glad she escaped from her home, she was worried about what would happen next.

Vision had the power to create a portal that would take into the village where they lived. It was safer this way – no one would ever see them coming.

The sparkling golden portal brought them to James' house that was near the woods, farther from the village.  

[a-n-conrad]

Fighting and Flirting (Bakugo x Reader)

Chapter 1: Butterflies

[Summary: You and Shoto grew up together, sparring throughout the years in order to convince his father to allow the two of you to remain friends.]

Relationships: Bakugo x Reader, Todoroki & Reader, Midoriya & Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fighting (blood), Mineta, SLOWBURN 

Masterlist

“You should teach me how to do that,” You jump a little at the voice behind you, though you quickly recognize it.

“I don’t think your dad would appreciate that all that much, Shoto,” You joke, waving your hand to dispel the illusions of butterflies you had created to swarm around you in the courtyard, before turning slightly to face your childhood friend.

“He let you in here, didn’t he?” He motions to the garden around you. It was true, his dad had been the one to walk you to the inner garden of their abode today, though you still weren’t sure how much truth was held in his next statement, “Obviously, he doesn’t mind you all that much.”

“You know that’s just because he wants us to spar in a little bit. He likes that I give you a challenge sometimes.”

He sighs and sits on the ground next to you. You guys still had a little while until his dad came out and started hounding you to start sparring with each other. You always liked to take this time to actually sit and enjoy being around each other before he was attempting to either set you on fire or freeze you to death.

You two had been friends with each other for quite a long time at that point. You had met about a year before Shoto’s quirk presented and you had refused to go away when his dad had attempted to isolate him from the world. Eventually, Endeavor gave up on trying to get rid of you and just decided to find a way to make you useful, though you were sure that if you were his kid your arguments would’ve ended quite differently if what Shoto says is anything to go by. Instead, however, you became Shoto’s sparring partner, since your parents weren’t even around enough to protest.

Admittedly, your quirk wasn’t quite as useful when it came to battle as Shoto’s. You could manipulate light and sound to create elaborate illusions or just send off a bright beam of light or a sonic boom. Other than that, though, you had to rely a lot more on your physical abilities than Shoto. You could really only use one sonic boom before your ears started ringing, and if you used it more than that before the ringing stopped, the doctors said you’d end up making yourself go deaf. That just means you spent a lot more time outside of sparring working out and building muscle. 

“I was serious, though, (Y/N),” Shoto’s voice broke into your thoughts, “You should teach me how to make butterflies like that. I’m sure my fire could do something similar.”

“Maybe,” You replied, attempting to think about how you’d have to adjust your tactic in order to make it work with fire, instead of just light, “We’d have to shift a few things, but we might be able to make it work. I don’t think you’d have quite as much control as I do, though.”

“That’s alright,” He replied, leaning his head on your shoulder, his dual-colored hair falling into your face a little bit, “I just think it’d be nice to make something pretty out of my fire.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense, Sho.”

“What are you two doing just sitting around?” The voice that echoed from the area near one of the doors to the garden was easily the last one you wanted to hear, though you knew well that he’d be out soon, “Do you really think you have time to just sit around? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the entrance exam?”

“Entrance Exam?” You asked, a little confused as to what Endevear was talking about as he approached the two of you. You hadn’t really thought of any school to apply to yet and as far as you knew, neither had Shoto, “Entrance to where?”

“UA, obviously. You think Shoto would be going anywhere else?”

You glanced over at your friend, a little hurt that he didn’t tell you that he had already figured out where he was going, “Oh, right. Should I leave you to study instead? I’m sure the written exam is important too.”

“You’re going too, aren’t you?” Shoto asked, tilting his head a little as if it had been obvious to you. He had a couple habits like that, though you were sure almost no one else got to see them.

“What?”

“You want to be a hero, too, don’t you? There’s no better place to go than UA.”

“Shoto,” You started, “There’s no way I’ll get into UA. Their entrance exams aren’t exactly built for people with quirks like mine. I could do alright in the written portion, but I doubt I’d do at all good in the practical exam.”

“That’s why you get in on a recommendation,” Endeavor states, obviously getting annoyed at the conversation and the lack of sparring that was going on during it. He was quick to get annoyed with you, though he knew there really wasn’t much he could do about it without getting himself into trouble. 

“What,” You try your best not to sound too surprised and confused, but you were never really all that good at hiding your emotions, “Where would I get a recommendation?”

“From me, of course,” He replies, rolling his eyes, “They’re pretty quick to accept recommendations from the number 2 hero, but you still have to go through an entrance exam. It’s just not quite as battle-centric.”

“Oh, thank you!” You jumped up from your spot on the ground, too excited to hide your grin, and while you still felt a little guilty to accept something from someone who was so cruel to your friend, you knew there was no other way for you to get into the same school as him.

“Shut up,” He grumbles, “Don’t forget that it’s just to give Shoto a decent rival at that school. That means you had better get into the same class as him. Now, will you get on with the training before you have to fight me instead?”

You nodded and helped Shoto up from his spot on the ground, nest to where you were just seated before the both of you got into your sparring positions that you had gotten into multiple times a week for the past few years.

- - - - -

Shoto almost always started out using his right side. He liked his ice better, so he always favored using it. That’s why as he quickly shot a wall of ice out towards you you knew exactly how to dodge. A quick bit of acrobatics to his left as you were in the clear.

Of course, he expected that, which meant you had to be pretty quick on your feet to make another quick dodge as he threw a shot of flames towards you. You had been through this same battle enough that the two of you knew each other’s moves better than anyone else in the world. That meant that you each had to start getting more creative in order to avoid playing out the same battle every single time.

You each had your own goals, though, which you knew would make it easier to win the fight. You knew that his goal was to keep you as far away as he could, so he could use his long-distance move in order to either freeze you in place or to burn you enough that you tap out. That made your goal to get as close to him as you could so you could get a few punches in.

You held your hand up quickly, focusing as hard you could in order to push out a quick sonic boom, knocking him down for just a moment. This gave you just enough time to set up your newest illusion for a test. 

You focused on the light first. Step one was to make yourself disappear. Just make the area around you look exactly like the area behind you to him. That way it looked a though he could see through you. You weren’t entirely sure how well it worked, but you were hoping it was an effective enough illusion that it looked like you had vanished. By the time you had gotten that illusion to the point you wanted it, he was already starting to stand back up, almost entirely recovered from your sonic boom. 

That meant you only had a couple of moments to get as far away from where you had just been standing before he tried to roast you.

As he started to stand, you sprinted as fast as you could towards him, quickly closing the gap between you as he glanced around, confused as to where you had gone. 

However, despite your new plan, you were at a slight disadvantage. With your ears ringing as much as they were, you weren’t quite sure how much noise your footsteps were making. You quickly became aware of that new fact as Shoto looked directly at you. As he started freezing the ground around himself, the trail of ice rushing towards you, you took the chance to jump, diving directly towards his midsection.

You managed to avoid his ice, tackling him to the ground, only for your illusion to disappear as you made contact with him. You, however, didn’t care about the illusion anymore. You quickly adjusted to straddle his midsection, pinning one of his shoulders down with your left hand and you leaned the other arm onto his throat in a sort of chokehold. 

He quickly tried to move his arm to grab your arm, however, you were quick to move both of his arms to his sides, pinning them there with your legs, before returning to the chokehold.

“Tap out, Sho,” You muttered, applying a little bit more pressure.

He glared at you before tapping one of his hands against the ground where they were pinned. You quickly stood up, helping him up with you before brushing some dirt off of your clothes. 

“You really don’t go easy on me ever, do you?”

“You really shouldn’t either, Sho. I can handle myself. I know it doesn’t take you that long to get up after getting knocked down,” You say quietly, hoping his dad wouldn’t hear you. You knew that if his dad figured out either of you were going easy on each other it wouldn’t end well for Shoto. 

Luckily for the two of you, before he could say anything about the fight, he got a call. Obviously work-related.

“I have to go,” He said, already on his way out, “The two of you should get some studying in. If you make my recommendations look bad I’m not going to be happy.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

70 for sternclay, nsfw please :)

70: you’re planning my best friend’s wedding which we find out the day after you drunkenly hit on me at a bar and I reject you.

“God I hope this guy isn’t a jerk.” Dani plays with her hair as Aubrey fidgets with her phone.

“Hey, if he is, you’ve got me as back-up.” Barclay pats her shoulder reassuringly, “plus, like, you two are the brides. You’re the bosses of the wedding.”

“If we really were the bosses, we wouldn’t be working with a wedding planner in the first place.” Aubrey grumbles. 

There’s a knock on the door and Barclay stands, “I’ll get it, you two finish mentally bracing yourselves.”

He opens the door to find a tall, dark haired man with bright blues and a well-cut suit staring at him. Their expressions morph to shock and recognition at the same instant.

“Hi, hic, big guy, what’s your name?” The man’s blue eyes are noticeable even in the dim light of the bar. 

“Barclay.” He turns on his stool, giving the man a once over that he can’t help but notice. 

“You, hic, here, hic, with anyone?”

“Nope.”

“Want to, hic, be?” 

The man is clearly built under his v-neck t-shirt, and Barclay would dearly love to get a closer look at his ass. Trouble is, his ass is having a hard time staying balanced in that chair. 

“Sorry, blue eyes, not tonight.”

The man slinks away before Barclay can even ask if he wants him to call him a ride. 

“I’m looking for Aubrey Little’s residence?”

“You found it. She and Dani are in here.” He ushers blue-eyes inside, doesn’t envy him the look of suspicion he gets from both women. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Little and Ms. Coulice, I’m Joseph Stern, and I’m here to help your wedding go off without a hitch.”

“Great. Let’s get this over with. Honey, can you go get the notes AH Dr. Harris Bonkers put that down!” Aubrey dives off the chair, grabbing a phone charger from the jaws of the ten pound white rabbit. 

As one bride opens up her laptop and the other re-cages a disgruntled small mammal, Stern turns to him.

“And, um, how do you know the brides to be?”

“Dani’s been my best friend since middle school, so I’m her man of honor and helping with the wedding planning.”

“I see. Oh, thank you Ms. Coulice.”

“Dani is fine.” Dani returns to her spot in the loveseat while Stern sits down in a nearby chair with her laptop. He reads for several moments without comment, Aubrey trading worried looks wh Barclay and Dani as he does. 

“Are these the specific venues you have in mind, or just examples of the type of location you’d like?”

“Mostly examples.” 

“Got it. Would you mind sending me these files? That way I can have them as reference when I’m looking into possible venues.”

“You’re not gonna, like, try to talk us into the Yacht Club or something?”

Stern looks at Aubrey with a warm, polite smile, “Ms. Little--Aubrey--, your father may have retained me, but my job is to make the wedding as close to what you want as possible. I’m not here to undermine you.”

“O-kay” Aubrey still sounds wary, but she and Dani relax as Stern goes over his planning approach with them and works out a tentative schedule of meetings. When he’s done, Barclay offers to walk him to the door. 

Just as he steps outside, he turns, “I, um, I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention our exchange last night to either of them. Or to Mr. Little. It’s not a habit of mine, I just had a bit too much, um, liquid courage.”

“You got it. Kinda feeling like I dodged a bullet myself.”

“Oh?” A dark eyebrow arches playfully. 

“Rather not sleep with the enemy.”

“Wh-did you miss the part where I said I was here to help them?” 

“Nope, but you and I both know it’s a lie. You’re here because Aubrey’s dad has a bug up his butt about this wedding causing a scandal or not being fancy enough or some bullshit, so he called you in to make sure it stays bland.” He sighs, “Look, Mr. Stern, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but Dani is like a sister and Aubrey is one of my best friends; I’m here to make sure the wedding is actually what they want.”

Stern pinches the bridge of his nose, “is there anything I can to convince you I’m not trying to make them miserable?”

“Yeah. Quit.”

“Not a chance.” Is the immediate reply. 

“Well, there’s your answer then.” With that, he shuts the door. There’s a frustrated huff on the other side, and then footsteps fading away.

--------------------------------

Stern sighs, checks his appearance in the front window as he waits for Dani or Aubrey to open the door. He’s been working with them two weeks now, and while both women (and Dr Harris Bonkers) have warmed up to him some, Barclay remains polite but distant the times they’ve crossed paths. Lord almighty Stern can’t believe he almost slept with him. 

Yes, the man looks like his wet dreams made flesh and yes, Stern would like to ride him like a show-horse, but what a nightmare it would have made this whole assignment. Even if Barclay’s reasons insult him, he’s glad they’ve settled on keeping their distance.

Maybe this more casual look will help the other man see he’s not some stuffed suit out to ruin his friend’s wedding.

“Oh, you’re early.” Barclay opens the door with his usual pleasant but cool expression.

“No, I’m not. It’s three.” 

“Wait, shit really?” Barclay pulls out his phone as they walk inside, “damn, I must’ve lost track of time when I was cooking. Oh. Uh.” He looks at Stern, apologetic, “and I have a text from Aubrey saying she and Dani had a change of plans and won’t be here until seven.”

“That’s not great, but it’s workable. I can leave and come back.”

“Don’t you live kinda far--uh, huh, she says for us to just test out the menu together and leave her and Dani some for dinner.”

“I guess we can manage tha--why are there ingredients and pots everywhere?”

“Because...I’m…Cooking?” Barclay glances sideways at him. 

“What happened to the entire conversation about caterers? When did they change? What’s-”

“Hold on.” Barclay raises one hand, voice calm and deep, soothing over Stern’s rising worries like waves over hot skin, “think you’re mixed up; we’re trying out the food for the rehearsal dinner today. The one I’m cooking. Not the reception.”

“Oh thank the lord.” Stern slumps forward on the counter, “I thought I was about to have a whole day of calling disgruntled employees to tell them to nevermind about a quote.”

“Nope. Now have a seat, look like you’re gonna pass out on Dani’s floor. You want something to drink? We got water, beer, iced tea…”

“Water’s fine, thank you.” He tracks Barclay through the kitchen as he retrieves a glass from an upper cabinet, shirt riding up to show a patch of a dark, fuzzy belly that Stern instantly wants to feel pressed against him as it’s owner pins him to the nearest flat surface. 

Cooking seems to relax the other man enough that he actually chats with Stern, rather than keeping their conversation focused on the wedding. Stern learns he’s a personal chef and cookbook editor, though his original background was in baking. 

“Okay man, I gotta know” Barclay stirs something cardamom scented over the stove, “what’s with the shirt?”

“It’s from the radio station that first broadcast the story of the Michigan Dogman.”

“The what?”

“The Michigan Dogman, it’s a cryptid, um, nevermind” he curses himself for choosing casual clothes, “it’s niche and nerdy, you don’t want to hear about it.”

“Wrong, now you gotta tell me everything.” Barclay grins at him over his shoulder.

So he does, gradually at first in case Barclay regrets pushing this geekery button and needs to change the conversation, but the other man simply listens, really listens, as he cooks while Stern talks about his journey to the radio station and his talk with the DJ who accidentally started a legend. 

They keep talking as they eat, swapping travel stories and book recommendations, Barclay laughing when Stern shares some of the more ridiculous requests he’s gotten while working as a wedding planner. 

When Aubrey and Dani arrive home, they take one look at him and Barclay, stopped mid-anecdote and smiling at each other, and trade a surprised glance. 

All Stern can think is you and me both.

------------------------------------

The planning goes more smoothly after that night, Barclay beginning to trust Stern more and more. Stern also learns that he trusts Barclay’s judgement , and the other man is invaluable in helping him narrow down options to present to the brides, both of whom are overall pleased with his work.

He’s particularly proud of his find for the wedding venue. The Madonna Inn is perfect, brightly colored and fancy but still just a bit kitschy, like the locations Dani originally showed him. Both brides were overjoyed, which is why all four of them came down for the weekend to make preparations and start scoping out vendors for the food and flowers.  Dani and Aubrey went back up to the city Sunday night, but he and Barclay are staying at the inn the rest of the week, Stern in hopes of having everything scheduled and coordinated and Barclay there in case he needs a second set of eyes (he’s working on a new cookbook and his clients are traveling, so taking the week down the coast is no trouble). 

Today has been a work day, but Stern is taking tomorrow off basically because no one has time to meet with him. So after a late afternoon spent lounging on the beach, the two of them go out for a leisurely dinner. On a whim, Stern lets Barclay select and order his meal for him. He doesn’t mean for it to be flirtatious at first, he just trusts Barclay’s culinary instincts and is tired of making decisions. But one look at Barclay’s face, his widening pupils and sudden blush, tell Stern all he needs to know. 

“You gonna be good and eat whatever I give you?” Barclay murmurs, so low he’s almost inaudible under the clank of silverware and hum of conversation. 

“Of course.” Stern puts on his sweetest smile, shores up his defenses against the self-doubt curling up his spine. He’s not fast enough, and so orders another cocktail. 

Halfway through the meal, he notices Barclay watching him, and another piece clicks into place; the cook keeps eyeing his lips and throat as he eats, often shifts in his chair if Stern makes a delighted noise after a bite. When dessert comes, the accidental sounds are replaced by deliberate ones and he luxuriates as he eats his tiramisu, licking the fork to be sure not a drop of cream is wasted. 

Barclay asks for the check, and two more slices of cake to-go, without ever taking his eyes off of Stern. He’s feeling confident, and a bit wobbly, as Barclay drives them back to the Inn, taking the larger man’s hand and pulling him towards one of the beds before he can even get the lights on.

A large, gentle hand on his shoulder, “no can do, blue eyes.”

“But I, hic, we, hic-” the world goes sideways as Baclay unlinks their hands. 

“Go get some sleep, Joe.”

He changes while Barclay’s in the bathroom, huddles under the covers and faces the window so the other man can’t see him burning top to bottom with shame. 

Things get worse in the morning; he’s awoken by a phone call saying the florist has an open slot to meet with him in an hour and so he throws on the nearest nice clothes and dashes out the door. That meeting is followed by a phone call from Mr. Little who is none to pleased with the location choice and Stern spends forty-five minutes convincing him that the Inn is perfectly tasteful and also it’s what the brides want and that counts for a great deal wouldn’t you agree?

His nerves are firing full-strength when he gets back to the room. Barclay, freshly showered and clothed, looks up at him from the bed where he’s thumbing through Cooks Illustrated, reading glasses perched on his nose. 

“Rough morning?”

“ Yes.”

He shuts the magazine “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna talk about last night?”

“Also no.”

“Well, I do.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You simply aren’t interested in me that way and I’ve made an ass of myself twice by misreading the situation.”

“You’re wrong. You’re my type, blue eyes-”

“Clearly not, since-”

“-When you’re sober.” Barclay sits all the way up, “which is why I wanna know why you only flirt with me when you’re so drunk neither of us can try anything.”

“Because...because approaching people like that makes me nervous. I’m already under enough stress as it, running block for Aubrey and Dani against Mr. Little without getting myself fired, and the thought of trying to flirt, it’s, everything starts going wrong, it will all go wrong and-” the panic is back, his composure leaving him and taking whatever respect Barclay had for him with it. 

“Joe, breathe.”

“Breathing is not the issue here!” 

Barclay stands, face calm, and walks over to him. Instead of stepping in front of him, he circles behind, and a hand rests at the base of Stern’s neck.

“Let’s try that again. Inhale, blue eyes, a nice long one.” 

Stern complies, Barclay’s voice carrying no threats but leaving no room for protest. 

“Breathe out, count to four while you do.”

Stern exhales, nerves diverting energy from panic to desire, Barclays fingers on his skin and dominant baritone in his ear. 

“Good boy. Do it again.”

Stern takes another deep breath, then another, over and over as Barclay leads him to the bed and slips off his jacket, followed by his shoes and socks. 

“That’s it Joe, you’re doing so good.” He sits beside him on the bed, stroking his hair and Stern follows his touch, “what do you need? What helps when this happens?”

“Something to, to focus on, until I calm down. Just not work related or too complicated.”

“Hmmm” a thumb brushes over his lips, then down his chin, “I got a few things in mind, but they’re pretty damn dirty. Should we try something else?”

“No, please, I, I want that, want, want to be good for you like that.”

“Okay blue eyes, we can do that. You gotta promise me you’ll say ‘stop’ if something doesn’t feel good, okay?”

He nods, heart shaking his ribs, and Barclay leans and kisses him once, tenderly, before laying back on the bed, hands resting beneath his head.

“Get my dick out, yeah, there we go, good boy, I want you to use your mouth, can you, OH, ohhhhyeah.” His cock bumps Stern’s cheek as his hips tilt, a response to Stern lapping teasingly at the base. He drags his tongue all the way up the shaft, takes the head into his mouth, doing his damndest to lock eyes with Barclay the whole time. 

“Babe, fuck, that’s it, oh fuck you look good like that, knew you’d look good with my dick in your mouth, been thinking about it since that first night.”

Stern whimpers, hungry for more and pushes his head down. Having Barclay’s cock in his mouth forces him to keep his breathing measured, and so he savors it, senses filling with salt and skin and lingering hints of soap. 

“That’s it babe, nice and slow, we got all day. Long as I get to cum sometime before noon I’m happy.”

Stern rolls his tongue over the tip as he pulls off, switches to kisses and licks as he slowly jerks him off. Occasionally he skates up, nudging Barclay’s shirt with his nose--his hands uninterested in leaving his cock--so he can leave deep, longing kisses across his stomach and hips. Every movement elicits a groan or a sigh, every kiss and suck earns him praise. It’s only when his hands are slick with pre-cum and his own saliva that Barclay bucks his hips more intently, growling when Stern takes him back into his mouth. 

“Shit you’re good at this, not, fuck, not surprised, look like you would be, like all you need is for me to take care of you and you’ll open that fucking perfect mouth whenever I ask FUCK, oh you like that, don’t you babe? Fuck, shit, like the idea of taking what I give you?”

He whines, rubbing his thighs together as Barclay’s cock bumps the back of his mouth.

“You got three seconds to decide how you wanna take this.”

Stern locks eyes with him again, and dips down the barest bit more. Barclay’s hands tangle in his hair as he groans “good boy” and cums, bitter and warm, down Stern’s throat.

His hands flop onto the bed, allowing Stern to sit up. 

“Did...was I good?”

“So fucking good.” Barclay thwacks a hand dramatically onto his forehead to wipe it, “do you want to keep going? Or do you want to stop?”

“I want” Stern presses his hand against his cock, as if this will help rather than make him wetter, “please, can we keep going?”

“Yeah” Barclay sits up, kisses each cheek, “pants and underwear off, leave the shirt and tie.”

By the time Stern is appropriately undressed, Barclay is back on the bed with the to-go box and  a plastic fork. He reclines on the pillows, box on his upper chest, “come straddle me, knees about here” he pats the bed near his waist. Stern scoots up into position, Barclay licking his lips as he does. 

“Good boy. Now, you’re gonna show me how you get off, so I can know just what to do tonight to make you cry into the mattress.”

“Fuck.” Stern gasps, fingers already rapidly stroking his dick.

“Mmmm, look at how slick you are. Think that deserves a reward.” He spears a piece of cake, “open.”

Stern opens his mouth, leaning forward so Barclay can more easily feed him.

“You do like being spoiled. I can work with that.” Barclay rumbles, pleased, when Sterns fingers work frantically after a second bite. 

“Please, Barclay, I want to kiss you, please say I can kiss you.”

“Not until you finish.” 

“The, the cake or myself.”

“Yourself, blue eyes.”

He’s panting now, sweat soaking through his shirt, and slowing his hand and hips to take the bites Barclay offers. When he cums it doubles him over, and as he’s bracing his hands on the headboard, trying not to collapse on his partner, Barclay moves everything aside and cups his face, gently guiding him down to kiss him. They stay like that as Stern slowly explores his mouth, tastes leftover cake and laughs when a coppery beard scratches his neck. And when he begins to drop, breath shallow and fingers shaking, Barclay rolls them onto their sides, holds him close. Tells him over and over that he’s proud of him, that he did so well, that he’s right here and he’ll take care of him, give him whatever he wants. 

“Honestly, breakfast sounds better than anything else right now.” Stern mumbles against his chest. 

“I’ll order us some. You still need me to dom you, or are you ready to start calling the shots again?”

“I don’t call all the shots.” 

“Just most of ‘em. Don’t tell anyone, but I kinda like that about you. You’re good at what you do.” Barclay kisses his forehead. 

“I...I think I’d like to rinse off while you order breakfast.”

Barclay offers one more kiss before they roll out of bed, has Stern’s robe waiting for him when he gets out of the shower and brings him the room service tray as soon as it’s delivered. They lounge together on Stern’s bed, watching the Inn come to life as the afternoon draws near. From here, they can even see the spot where their friends will get married.

“The ceremony is gonna be perfect.”

“As perfect as I can manage, yes.”

“You got a date for it yet?”

“No.” 

“You want one?” Barclay smiles at him, the sunlight making him look as if he stepped out of a daydream and into Stern’s bed. 

“Depends; would that date be you?”

“Yep.” Barclay kisses his shoulder.

“Well then,” Stern grins, tips his chin up for a coffee-flavored kiss, “there’s your answer.’

[willowflute0-blog]

Aaa Car Locksmith As Well As Repayment Providers.

Tips On Car Key Replacement.

Content

Open Padlocks Without A Secret Utilizing Inexpensive Do It Yourself Shims.

Rekeying A Schlage Bar Lock.

Our Chicago Locksmith Solutions.

Sell Dallas For Locksmiths.

They can reprogram them, get rid of existing secrets from the cars and truck's computer, and so on . When there is something you need from your security, it is always best to trust the professionals that handle all kinds of safety. As an included benefit, our mobile locksmiths can pertain to your area, anywhere you might be. We additionally supply emergency services that allow our professionals to help you 24-hours a day.

Allowing your locksmith recognize what kind of cars and truck tricks you have is another crucial piece of information that they will need to have in order to execute the task with optimum efficiency. A conventional essential cutter can be utilized to reduce any secret that has its bitting on the top and/or bottom of the key blade. If you can make a residence trick on the vital cutter, after that it is a traditional key cutter. The equipment works by repairing the existing secret into area. This key can be scanned for its code right now, and might be removed.

Can Triple A unlock a locked car?

If you have AAA you can call them to unlock your vehicle. If the vehicle can't be safely opened or made operable, or the locksmith cannot replace the key, towing services will be provided under the towing benefit.

In some cases, it will be feasible to set an essential fob on your own. Each automobile is going to have a very distinctive programming approach. You will certainly require to have a blank remote, and also the proper guidelines for configuring it. If the remote is not blank and also has actually been previously configured to another vehicle, then this will not work. Expert locksmiths have an experience with every type of secret, even electronic ones.

Unlock Padlocks Without A Trick Making Use Of Economical Diy Shims.

Can a locksmith make a key for a Mercedes?

For the most part, locksmiths should be able to help you replace or duplicate your Mercedes-Benz key at a better price than a dealership, in part because they should be up to date with the skills and equipment required.

On top of our cars and truck lockout services, we also offer a AAA locksmith for residence lockout circumstances. We offer you satisfaction and also are constantly there when you require it most. Our professionals take care of your situation as well as work hard to provide services promptly. When you call AAA for a locksmith service, we send out a technician or got locksmith to your area. They will analyze the circumstance and also figure out the best resolution utilizing the ideal tools as well as approaches.

Is picking locks easy?

While lock picking is very simple and can be done very quickly on basic locks, the movies don't quite do it justice. To pick a lock you are going to need two tools: a pick (duh) and a tension wrench. Lock Pick: The pick allows us to lift the pins to the shear line just like the key does.

To do this the crucial blank key is simply relocated so that the opposite side can be reduced. The initial trick can be left in position, because both sides of the key will have the very same bitting pattern. He was very well-informed, pleasant and expert.

We're dedicated to preserving a network of relied on home solution organizations, and those who don't meet our criteria will certainly be rejected or without delay eliminated from our network.

The above screening process is not appropriate to Corporate Accounts, as HomeAdvisor does not evaluate Corporate Accounts or Company service experts.

HomeAdvisor makes use of a substantial testing process to display businesses and service owners/principals.

This is due to the fact that just the pins are being changed when locks are rekeyed and also it's a fairly easy as well as quick work.

We verify any type of appropriate state-level licenses, as well as we need every service to confirm that they carry the proper local licensing to exercise their profession.

Technology understood a whole lot concerning the locks and exactly how to fix utilizing one of the most efficient method.

A professional locksmith ought to be able to aid you with tricks for all makes and models of vehicles, from conventional family automobiles to exotic and luxury vehicles. In the uncommon instance that your locksmith does not work with your certain sort of lorry, felt confident that they can route you to a person that does. Many automobiles after more recent automobiles have transponder chips are programmed to a specific car. All secrets madein the last twenty years are required to be fitted with an immobiliser system.

If the equipment is extra by hand run, after that the locksmith will certainly position the bank key in the equipment in a various port. The slot for the empty key will certainly line up with a blade, and the functioning secret will be placed versus the positioning device. The cutting edge of the blade needs to be totally lined up with the leading edge of the positioning device. From there the alignment of the keys in relationship per various other demands to be examined. In order to utilize this equipment to duplicate car secrets, you will certainly have to cut both sides of the new key.

What do I do if I locked myself out of my house?

If you ever find yourself locked out of your house in the future, rest assured knowing there are a few ways you can get back in: 1. Check for an opened window. 2. Put your credit card to use. 3. Call Your Landlord. 4. Ask Your Concierge. 5. Call A Locksmith.

car key replacement dallas is, it may seem expensive to obtain one currently, specifically if it has to be programmed to your automobile, yet in the long run it repays. Because of the fact that there are so many various car designs available you will need to tighten your focus to your particular vehicle to make sure that you can get the appropriate secret. To do this, you will certainly need to offer your automobile recognition number, along with the make, version and year of your lorry.

They have a brand-new technolgy that does not need the 2 secrets to be present. It is a remarkable progression for a store to be able to execute this service for customers so promptly and set you back effectively. They sell hundres of these keys per week which will just grow as individuals discover this service is offered in the shops.

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How much does it cost for a car locksmith?

How Much Does an Automotive Locksmith in Sydney Charge to Replace Car Keys? On average, an Automotive Locksmith will charge around $250 to make you a set of remote car keys. On average, traditional, non-remote car keys will set you back by around $200.

No-- most of locksmith professionals work as the primary company of transponder key replication. Many dealers today exercise the outsourcing of this service to locksmiths.

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As soon as you have actually decided on that you would love to reach out to so as to get a replacement secret made, you can loosen up and also breathe easy. However, you must benefit from this scenario and have an extra spare trick made.

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He made her a new secret and also set the fob instantly within a hr. I required a replacement crucial fob and to have the lock on my door repaired. We want you to call on us when you need a new trick as well as can offer you an affordable cars and truck vital programs price that will defeat every one of our rivals. When they commend you it is programmed and it will work.

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Colour Me In (part 2)

In case you missed Part 1

Eliza walked into their shared apartment her hands flying in a flurry of explanation.

“I'm sorry I'm so late, let me feed Oliver and we'll get going,” she told her sister.

Maggie was having none of it. “Where were you? You were supposed to be here an hour ago. You told me you were taking Oliver you the park. Wait why are you smiling like that? What happened? You'd better tell me,” her sister was equal parts furious and curious.

“Okay okay calm down, have you ever heard of 5 seconds of summer?” Eliza asked her.

“The band? Yes of course, what's that got to do with anything?” Maggie was confused.

“The guy I told you about the other day, hot guy who gave me his number, turns out his name is Calum Hood,” she continued but her sister cut her off

“You're full of shit,” Maggie signed shaking her head.

Eliza pulled out her phone pulling up pictures and Maggie grabbed it in disbelief. Scrolling through she recognized the handsome man smiling next to her sister in the pictures, she even recognized his dog.

“You not only met Calum fucking Hood but you hung out with Duke too? Know that I completely understand why you were late but also what the fuck Ez?” Maggie was shocked and grinning like a madman.

“I want to know everything you know about him and his band. I'm meeting up with him again next week and I want to be prepared,” Eliza pleaded with her sister.

“I'll help you when we get back but just know I'm gonna hit on his friend Luke. I seriously can't believe you right now.”

After shopping the two of them settled in with some chai and Maggie made Eliza give her every detail going back to the first sighting at the cafe. Maggie was being overly dramatic with her reactions and Eliza was beaming and giggling. In the middle of all of this Calum texted her telling her she'd left behind Oliver's rope toy.

My sister refuses to believe I met someone as famous as Duke Hood.

Calum texted back quickly. A picture of him sitting next to Duke on the couch. Duke was chewing Oliver's toy and Calum held a post it that had Hi Maggie scribbled on it.

Maggie squealed throwing herself back on the couch almost spilling her iced tea. They were laughing so hard and carrying on they didn't notice their mother coming into the apartment until she was standing in front of them.

“GIRLS what is going on here. I can hear you ALL the way in my kitchen,” Beatriz was remarkable how she managed to speak louder with her hands than her voice.

Eliza took the lead, their mom was tougher on her sister, and she could usually deflect some of it.

“I'm sorry Mama but when I took Oliver to the park I met someone famous. I was telling Mags about it and we got carried away. Esp when I was showing her pictures of his dog. We'll be quiet,” Eliza watched her mom's curiosity win over her annoyance.

“Let me see this boy. Is it someone I know? How is he famous,” she took Eliza's phone scrolling through the pictures smiling at the dozen or so shots of Duke and Oliver. Her eyebrows shot up and Eliza knew she was looking at Calum the way her eyes glanced at Eliza's face.

“The dog is adorable and he's quite handsome. Maggie do you know who he is?”

Maggie nodded and she turned back to Eliza.

“Will you be seeing him again?”

Eliza shrugged “Well I'm gonna keep going to that park and he did give me his phone number. He's really nice but I'm sure he's busy enough being a rock star and all.”

Beatriz narrowed her eyes and looked back and forth between her girls. “I have a feeling you two are up to something. Be careful, now Maggie did you get what you needed today for your tournament?”

They chatted for a minute before their mom told them she was getting pizza and wanted them over for dinner.  She left and Maggie tapped Eliza to get her full attention.

“She's right about being careful. He could be a total fuckboy.”

Eliza's mouth dropped open and she looked hurt before bursting into giggles “of course he could be a fuckboy but if he is so WHAT? How much fun would that be?”

Maggie laughed along with her but quickly shushed them both. “True true, damn you're one lucky bitch. Now pull yourself together we gotta go deal with Mama.

That evening Calum declined Natasha's invitation to come out. He was still a bit annoyed about the hickey. More annoyed that he hadn't spotted it but he'd been in such a rush to get out of the house. He wanted to text Eliza but she'd left him on read and he didn't want to seem too eager. He'd managed to work out the alphabet, signing through his abc's. His mind was buzzing replaying the entire day in his head. It wasn't just that she was hot, although Calum definitely wanted to explore her curves and roam those hills. It wasn't just that she was different, he couldn't pretend her being deaf wouldn't present challenges if this progressed. That she wasn't impressed with him or have an agenda was something Calum hadn't experienced in a long time.

His phone buzzed just as he was making dinner.

My sister is incredibly jealous. Apparently you know somebody named Luke Hemmings and your band is kind of a big deal.

Calum chuckled looking at his phone.

Well Luke is quite pretty and I could see where your sister would be jealous of Luke. Hell, I'm jealous of Luke. He's really that pretty.

Eliza practically had Maggie trying to crawl into her lap trying to read Calum's texts.

“You sold me out to give yourself an excuse to text Calum” Maggie protested

“What if you get to make out with Luke” Eliza asked

“I'll take one for the team” Maggie grinned at her sister.

Almost as pretty as you

Eliza held her phone up and Maggie took and and laughed.

“If that's not a fuckboy move I don't know what is” Maggie signed and Eliza responded “I know right, give it back.”

You're decent looking yourself but we all know Duke is the superior Hood

Calum smirked at the message, she had sass, he liked that.

I'd be hurt by that statement but when you're right, you're right. Speaking of which he needs a bath. I'll talk to you soon.

Maggie and Eliza shared a look. This was gonna be interesting.

Eliza skipped the cafe Monday for a work meeting because one of their clients had acted a fool over the weekend and damage control was needed. Tuesday she got up extra early to spend a little more time getting ready just in case. She popped into Marian's for coffee and half a dozen muffins on her way to work, three white chocolate lemon and three butter toffee pecan.

Marian slid her a quick note with her change as she waited for her order.

Someone was in here looking for you yesterday

She shook her head as Marian handed her a large box and grinned nodding towards the door. Eliza saw Calum walking in, his face lighting up into a smile when he saw her.

She stepped to the side so that Calum could order and so she could set her stuff down out of the way and pull out her phone.

“Hello how are you” Calum signed and she thought she might faint right there.

“I'm good how are you” she replied.

“Good” he stopped and pulled out his phone

Sorry that's all I know so far

Eliza was over the moon, but tried to keep it together. He ordered quickly while she replied.

No that's fine. That's incredibly sweet. I'm just on my way to work. Damage control for a client.

Calum looked around the place was busy and they were a bit in the way. His order was ready so he walked her to her car.  She checked her phone.

Dinner sometime this week?

Eliza looked up at him he looked hopeful, and so ridiculously handsome.

I'm helping Maggie practice every evening to get ready, and I'm on call for work in case my client does something stupid. How about lunch Friday?

Calum was surprised but agreed instantly,

Of course just text me where and when, or just text me

He winked at her and bent down to give her a little hug he walked to his car and Eliza held it together until he'd pulled out of the parking lot. She fumbled for her phone and put it into the dash mount. Pulling up snapchat she freaked out telling Maggie about running into Calum, their upcoming lunch date, that he had used sign language.

“Mags I am shitting myself WTF is even happening? What do I do? Help ME,” Eliza got herself somewhat calmed down after sending it. Ignoring the strange looks from some passersby who probably thought she'd lost her mind she got settled and headed out to work. She set her phone to the side and spent several hours on social media going in through ghost accounts trying to change the conversation about their client and Eliza could see they were starting to turn things around. Now if their client could stop Snapchatting his balls to random females that would be awesome.

Eliza couldn't sleep Thursday night, the anticipation was making her jumpy. She told herself she was being ridiculous. Yes he was gorgeous, famous and charming but a fuckboy is a fuckboy. The sooner she got romance out of her head and back to reality the better.  She decided against trying to straighten her hair and Maggie helped her fashion two loose braids and then pinning them at the nape of her neck to give her a loose casual bun. She eyed her sister's dark waves with envy. Eliza's curls had a mind of their own but today they seemed to be cooperating. She decided on a burgundy wrap tunic with cream colored leggings and her favorite tan boots.

Calum was early and badly wanted a smoke to calm his nerves. He knew Eliza disliked the smell so he resisted and ordered a beer while he waited. Seeing her walk in did not help his nerves but he was thrilled to see her. After greetings they pulled out their phones, it was a little strange to have these quiet text dates, but Eliza didn't seem phased.

Eliza waved to the cook and server when she spotted them behind the line. She came here as often as she could. Not only was it known for its soups and sandwiches it was family owned. The owner/cook was deaf so most of the staff could sign. The server came over and greeted them and they both signed back but then the server asked Calum his name and he froze unsure of the question.

She asked what's your name, She can hear btw so you can just tell her.

“Oh ok” Calum said out loud, surprising the lady waiting on them. He opened his mouth to answer but paused,” that's the sign for name?” He repeated the gesture he'd just seem and both women nodded. He thought for a second then pointed to himself, signed “name” and then finger spelled C-a-l-u-m looking to Eliza to see if he'd done it correctly.

“Very good” she signed with a smile.

They each ordered a combo. Cal got a Monte Cristo and vegetable soup, while she got a Philly cheese steak with tomato bisque. Eliza insisted he try the iced green tea with mint and lime.

Waiting for their food he raised his eyebrows at her before hitting send

Should I be insulted that you gave me the same sign you give Oliver when he's done a trick. At least he gets a treat

Eliza grinned and reached in her purse,

You want me to balance it on your nose first?

Calum looked up from his phone to see her holding up a piece of candy between her fingers and rotating it in a circle the way she did for her dog.

He had to laugh at the smirk on her face she caught him up on the fallout from her client's antics.

So it's bad enough he was wanking on Snapchat but then he goes off on Twitter. Evie says I'm to monitor all his social media and clean out his DMs blocking any and all girls who sent him nudes. The kid is not only a massive knob but now the world knows he has one as well.

Calum just stared at her for a minute

Hold on, you work for Eve Rhodes AND You guys represent Zachary James? That kid is a fucking nightmare. I've also met your boss, she's terrifying.

Eliza nodded

Fair enough but once you get to know her she's slightly less terrifying. Here comes our food I'm starving

Calum turned to look

Omg that looks amazing. I wish I'd gotten a cheese steak. Can we trade bites?

Eliza looked at his food

You can have a bite but yours has ham and I don't eat pork.

Calum looked surprised but nodded as she set her phone down to pick up her sandwich.

Eliza had never hesitated to eat in front of guys. Her mother believed in good food and lots of it and without her sister's manic energy most of the women in her family were pleasantly plump. Sometimes she didn't want to talk or deal with anyone else, she just wanted to have a moment with her food.

Calum was distracted from his own meal watching the expressions on Eliza's face as she lost herself in enjoyment. It didn't help the sandwich was messy and she kept licking her fingers, making it difficult for him to swallow. The little sighs and mmmmms as she ate were getting him hard despite himself.

Eliza opened her eyes to offer him a bite and caught him staring at her so blatantly she almost choked. “Maybe he's ready to make a move,” Eliza thought but her heart sank as she noticed a pair of unmistakably pink COMME des GARÇONS x Nike Air Max 180 sneakers headed her way.

Kevin, her best friend, fashion diva, and drama queen was standing at her table seriously annoyed with her.

“Bitch  are you serious right now? Who is this man you are out with right now and why does he look so familiar?” Kevin signed, completely ignoring Calum.

“Can you not right now? His name is Calum I told you about him remember? You're being rude?” Eliza signed back.

“Ask me if I care? So this is dog boy from the park? He's almost cute” Kevin told her.

“Don't call him dog boy, it's Calum now I love you but kindly fuck off right now” Eliza was getting angry now.

“Fine” he signed before turning to Calum. “Nice to meet you Calum, I'm Kevin, Eliza's best friend, and you look very familiar for some reason,” he spoke to him quickly before walking off leaving Calum very confused. Calum watched him walk back to his own table. This Kevin guy DID look familiar.  They were about equal in height but Kevin was broader and more muscled. Strikingly handsome with light green eyes that contrasted with his deep golden tan skin tone, and dark hair straightened high into a quiff. Calum would be lying if he said he didn't feel a tiny bit threatened.

Apologies for that, I've known Kevin for years. He's like a protective older brother. He thinks he might know you.

Calum was trying not to glance back at the man he could feel staring at him he focused back on his food and trying to enjoy Eliza's company.

Don't apologize, it's fine. He does look familiar...does he work for a publicist or maybe in music?

Eliza laughed and shook her head.

Kevin? His most stylish highness the KVN? LOL Nooo he's a model but he works the door at a few bars between jobs.

Calum slowly raised his eyes from his phone meeting hers to see if she was teasing or maybe setting him up somehow.

Which bars? Do you and Maggie get out much?

Eliza finished the last of her sandwich before giving up on the spoon and just sipping the last soup

Emerald City is one so that's a NO

Calum laughed Emerald City was a notoriously pricey strip club

He also works at Lucky's and The Chelsea. We don't drink, and I hate crowds. Clubs aren't my thing, but Maggie loves live music so she gets out some.

Calum nodded but his mind wasn't on their conversation any longer.

“Lucky's?” Calum thought chewing slowly trying to think how to handle this. “Looks like I'm totally fucked.”

@wildhearthood @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @biba3434 @cal-puddies @grittyisathot @angelbabylu @itstheholls @irwinkitten @5sos-ficssmut @cal-pal-cuddles @calumh-excess @1dthewantedlove @you-of-ghost @babygirlcashton @5-secondsofcolor

[britt-rae-law]

It wasn’t Rocket Science, It was just Brain Surgery

09.12.2016 - It has been 10 months since my brain surgery to partially remove a central brain tumor. Emotionally and psychologically coming to terms with the experience has been the hardest part. It has been a difficult topic to really talk about and explain to others, which is why I have found it easier to shrug it off as no big deal. I also feel self-conscious about my experience to a certain degree. But lately I have been thinking about how reading other people’s stories about brain surgery recovery helped me in a way no one else could have: explaining what to expect, if certain things are normal or not, the do’s and don’ts of recovery and finding the personal motivation to recover. I have learnt a lot about myself and have had an epiphany about life and identity. I came to realise that your entire being - who you are - is shaped by your brain. You are because you can think and feel; and you can’t do that without your brain. Your whole body is just there to protect and utilise your brain. I have decided that it might not only be cathartic for me to write my own experience, but could also be encouraging and useful for others.

On the 2nd of February 2016, my world was changed forever. After months of going to doctors in order to treat - or at least find out the cause of - severe migraines, random projectile vomiting, pins and needles, constant fatigue and sometimes blurred vision, I finally found out from a specialist that I have a brain tumor. Sitting in the waiting room and seeing the nurses facial responses to my MRI scan was unsettling. Waiting rooms are undoubtedly a symbol of anxiousness. I remember not knowing what I was about to be told, but feeling the tangible sense of unease fill the room. I could never have predicted how much my life was about to change.

The news was surreal, one of those “this happens to other people, not to me” moments. I didn’t grasp then what I was being told. After a couple of days back at home, I returned to hospital where I met the neurosurgeon who was to perform my operation. He carefully explained the procedure; cut open my head, remove the veins of the tumor, cut down the middle of my brain, drain the growth then cut out what they can. Funny how the first time I cried was when he told me that I would be missing three months of varsity.

I don’t remember much after that. I had the surgery on the 9th of February and had been in a deep sleep for a couple of days. I was told that I had two grand-mal seizures and an aneurysm; my left side having lost motion. Waking up and becoming conscious really are two different things. I had been told stories about being awake and having conversations with people, but I do not remember any of those experiences. During the process of becoming conscious, I was suddenly aware of how different everything felt. How difficult it was to perform simple tasks and that everything over-stimulated me to the point of exhaustion. As I was slowly becoming aware of my body and what I had just been through – knowing the long row of stitches across my head is evidence of the trauma – I became responsive and emotive.  I was experiencing fear, anxiety, restlessness, nervousness, worry, doubt, and a lingering unknown. There was a massive flood of emotion for a couple of weeks owing to the realization that I was alive and had survived something so traumatic. Then I couldn’t sleep. I was so scared. The nurses would bathe me and talk to me until I calmed down. I remember having asked to brush my teeth at 3 A.M and the nurse said no. That was the first time I cried since the operation. I think I cried every day after that. They don’t tell you if you will eventually stop being so emotional; and if so, when?

My biggest shock came when the physiotherapist asked me to move my legs up and down and I could only move my right one. I would lie there for ages thinking, “move”, and picturing my left leg sliding upwards and downwards. But nothing would happen. The frustration experienced in that moment was something I had never felt before. The disconnection between my thoughts and actions and that loss of control was absolutely terrifying. Looking at me, you would never think I was having such an intense internal struggle. I may have just been lying there, but I was spending every waking moment trying to overcome my body’s resistance to movement through thought. I felt trapped inside my own body. That’s when I realised that you and your body are so separate. I experienced this again in situations where I would grab things tightly in my left hand, clenched fist, and be unable to let go. I had grabbed a nurse once, and no matter how much I wanted to let go, my hand was not listening. This was a similar side effect to split brain patients; my left side of my body was not listening to the right hemisphere of my brain.

The realization that I stuttered, and spoke very slowly, frustrated me. I would try to speak as little as possible and would grow despondent upon hearing myself, as it did not coincide with what was going on inside my mind. I had uncontrollable tremors in my hands and arms. An occupational therapist tested me with some basic mathematics and memory exercises. It was harder than I thought it would be. I felt like a child as I struggled to identify shapes and objects. At times I would be okay then suddenly hit a complete blank and panic. She said this is called a “brain stutter” and occasionally this still happens to me now. But I have learnt to take a moment to think of something else until I am settled enough to return to the previous task. I have forgotten things. But I don’t know what things I have forgotten until I am presented with a person that I should know or story that I should remember, but don’t.

Learning to walk was the strangest feeling. I never knew how much thought and co-ordination goes into something so “easy”. I noticed how my concentration during such a seemingly simple task was affected so greatly by the environment. I became aware of how different walking is in a crowded space  versus an empty space; a well lit space versus a dim space; stairs versus the ground, ect. I eventually changed my mind-set so that instead of feeling frustration or upset when I was struggling or unable to do things, I would celebrate small victories. Victories such as eating without messing, going to the bathroom on my own, putting on my slippers by myself, using a zip or fastening a button and picking things up with my left hand. These are small achievable goals that kept me positive and motivated me to recover.

The aknowledgement of this tumour and the aftermath of the surgery changed me. I became aware of this foreign body within my brain and its presence became defining. In order for me to move on in life I had to accept and normalise its existence. No one has the intention of making someone diagnosed with a tumour feel like a pariah, but it tends to happen with the sensitivity of a life altering diagnoses. The fact that I was someone with a brain tumour surrounded by people who do not have one; or that I am someone who has had multiple brain surgeries, automatically makes me feel like an outsider.

Audre Lorde in her Cancer Journals said “either I could love my body one breasted now, or remain forever alien to myself”. This statement hits hard. Coming to terms with your own identity is no easy task especially when it is something life altering; I had been through this process once before with my sexuality. And so I decided that I needed to accept myself with a tumor and as a brain surgery survivor, or be alien to myself once more.

These internal struggles continue – even now - unbeknownst to those around me. My thinking is definitely slower than before and it takes me longer to process and respond to things – sometimes this can be overwhelming, even if I am the only one aware of it. This is where insecurity comes in to play; at times I wonder if I am being perceived as “normal” in social situations. This then makes me feel like I should explain to to strangers that I am still recovering so that my behavior can be understood. I don’t know then if people are looking at me with curiosity, concern or confusion. Sometimes I feel strong in what I have overcome, and at times I feel so alone in my experience. I learnt to go easy on myself, and take things slow.  My happiness comes from being myself in comfortable spaces; a renaissance that is truly liberating. I say renaissance because there is a clear distinction of myself and life before and after the surgery. Things feel different. Things are different. There is no way to tell if what I feel/ felt was normal. But my new normal involves an inner peace that does not take life for granted.

I didn’t know that It would take this long. I didn’t know that I would have such difficulty placing my own personality. I didn’t know that I would feel so foreign in my own body, so much so that I didn’t like looking at myself in mirrors or photographs. I wasn’t okay with being this person. That I would put on so much weight from the medication and the lack of mobility. Or that I would be so fearful of old symptoms returning and that I would feel a sense of guilt for surviving something that so many others didn’t.

The surgery is physically over, but mentally, I am still processing everything that had happened. I could go on but instead I will say that I am thankful my surgery went so well and that I was where I needed to be at that time. Now I am able to adjust to new strategies and am dealing with these overwhelming feelings in healthy ways.

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20.09.2019 - Today I write this 10 months after my second craniotomy under completely different circumstances. I have experienced this recovery at a different stage of my life, I am older, wiser and more motivated; facing a new perspective on the human experience. Learning from everyone around me as I know that everyone has a story and everyone is a lesson, offering a unique perspective on the chaos of humanity. My second diagnosis and surgery did make me wonder what lessons I still needed to learn. I was angered. Then depressed. Wasn’t one surgery enough? Then I surrendered. Truth be told, there has been a lot to learn... and there’s still so much more! The most valuable lessons about my body, health, consciousness, community and purpose came from the aftermath of the second surgery.  I suppose at some point, you need to decide whether you are going to be a victim or if you are going to use the resources you have access to in order to deal with the situation you are faced with.

Although living in the past can hinder your ability to move forward/overcome. Looking back and consciously reflecting on how far you have progressed through a certain phase in your life is rewarding. I often do that of course when I think about my progress from my first surgery until now. But do not stay there too long. Do not allow your past experiences to define you. Allow them to inform your future and motivate more progression. I am also acknowledging the importance of bridging the gaps between geography and lifestyles as the older you get, the more you realise you need the people from your past. I have been pleasantly suprised by the teachers, friends, classmates, mentors and family members that have laid branches and connections to me in the most unexpected ways and places. I reflect on these relationships and acknowledge their contributions with gratitude.

I came across a quote by Tony Robbins that said: “it is not the events of our lives that shape us and who we are, but rather our beliefs as to what those events mean.” And those beliefs are determined by the way in which we tell our story. The meaning we attach to the events—how we interpret them— is what shapes who we are today and who we’ll become tomorrow. And I am now actively telling a better story in this chapter of my life by creating the reality I experience rather than passively becoming my default self. Now knowing that things happen FOR you, and not TO you has been game changing for me. And since curating the world I immerse myself in - deciding which communities I am a part of, deciding what motivates me and why, choosing to only invest my energy into things that will contribute to achieving my goals - I have recognised the power in my sense of self.

This is a new sense of self whereby the changes and transformations I am making on the other side of this trauma have presented an opportunity to identify and build a new structure and way of living. This change has at times been uncomfortable - but as Nerri Oxman said in ‘Abstract Art of Design (Season 2 episode 2), “If it feels uncomfortable, you’re probably doing something right.” This process of change has also brought along with it responsibility, which I now understand as the ability to respond to circumstances. I am in control of my responses and no longer a victim of my diagnosis or as a patient, providing a reorientation around healthcare and healing. Now knowing that ‘Doctor’ means ‘Teacher’ (and not healer) and that movement and food is the best medicine, I can asses that medication, doctor visits and language were not the best ways for me to recover, but rather movement, community and nourishment has allowed me to surpass previous mis-understandings of what my healthy self should be, look and feel like. For me, the courageous part of it all has been turning towards the self, orienting the symptoms - how I feel and what could have caused the tumor to manifest - and making the necessary changes. Everyday I see how I have progressed in different facets of my life, I can’t help pass judgement on myself but i am aware that it is an endless process. 

This has cultivated a new kind of strength coming from a different place of mature consciousness - one that has developed from healthy habits, consistency and daily practices. 

And so the journey continues...