#just didn’t like that particular alteration

[kiwriteswords]

Could we see reader who hasn’t really dated or is very inexperienced begin to date Hotch? Maybe non bay? I loved sweet beginnings and how trader was so taken back by hotchs romance. I want more of that vibes please!

Touch Me Like Nobody Else Does [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 12k|| AN: I really REALLY enjoyed writing this--so much, that I completely blew off my lunch break today to write this and stayed up until 3 am last night, lol.

Tags/Warnings: mdni, nsfw, fade-to-black smut, inexperienced reader, slow burn, meet cute, shy reader, non bau reader, age gap of 20 years, reader is shorter than Hotch, fluff, smut, reassuring Hotch, praising Hotch, Hotch calls reader "sweetheart", Jack is in this story, mentions of Haley's passing, confident but inexperienced reader, chivalry isn't dead.

Summary: In a serendipitous series of encounters at a local grocery store, you, inexperienced in dating, find yourself drawn into a deepening relationship with Aaron Hotchner, a man whose past shadows his present. As your connection evolves from chance meetings to a profound bond, you must navigate the complexities of his world while also dealing with your own inexperience.

Every Wednesday--schedule permitting, Aaron Hotchner frequented the same grocery store in his quiet neighborhood. The ritual, embedded in the monotony of his demanding job, brought him a semblance of normalcy. He could stroll through each aisle and shut his brain off while just focusing on the list of items he needed to pick up for him and Jack.

But on this particular Wednesday, the routine was altered by a serendipitous collision.

As Hotch reached for his usual brand of coffee on the top shelf, a gentle bump startled him. Turning, he saw you—standing with a look of mild embarrassment, your hand frozen in mid-air, inches from his coffee choice.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” you said, cheeks coloring slightly.

“It’s alright,” Hotch replied, a small, unexpected smile crossing his features. “Seems we have the same taste in coffee.”

You laughed, a sound that seemed to linger pleasantly in the air between the aisles. “I guess so. It’s the best one, isn’t it?”

He nodded, handing you the can you��d both reached for. “It is. You have good taste.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking the coffee with a shy smile.

The encounter, brief as it was, left a lingering impression on Hotch as he watched you navigate away with your shopping cart. There was something distinctly intriguing about the way your eyes sparkled with unspoken thoughts.

The following week, the grocery store’s fluorescent lights once again cast their glow on another chance meeting. Hotch found you in the cereal aisle this time, your fingers brushing over the boxes as if each held a story you wished to uncover.

“You again,” he noted, his tone carrying a hint of amusement. He reached for a colorful box of what was probably all sugar, per Jack’s request.

You glanced up, surprise flickering across your face before it settled into a warm, inviting smile. “Seems like fate has a sense of humor,” you joked.

“Or a very specific shopping schedule,” Hotch countered, stepping closer to help you retrieve a box of granola from a high shelf.

“Thanks,” you said, your gaze lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary. “I guess I’m still figuring out the best times to avoid the crowds.”

“If it helps, Wednesday evenings seem to work well,” he shared, his voice softening.

“Maybe I’ll take that as a professional tip,” you replied, a playful edge to your words.

As weeks turned into a month, these accidental meetings transformed into a series of eagerly anticipated encounters. Each conversation revealed layers to your character—your earnestness and a latent curiosity that matched his own.

The profiler in him also noted your shopping cart. The basket filled with a variety of foods, a treat or two thrown in there as well. It mirrored his own choices. 

One chilly evening, as autumn leaves painted the ground in hues of fire and gold, Aaron Hotchner spotted you outside the grocery store, struggling with a few too many bags. His steps were measured as he approached, a gentle offering in his voice. “Let me help you with those,” he suggested, his hands reaching out to ease the burden from your arms.

“Oh, you don’t have to, but thank you,” you replied, your voice a mix of gratitude and relief. Your fingers brushed against his, a subtle spark hidden in the fleeting touch.

As he walked you to your car, the crisp air seemed to thicken with unspoken words hanging between you. Hotch wasn’t a believer in fate, but he did feel there was a reason beyone his knowledge he kept running into you and it intrigued him. 

You fumbled slightly with the keys, a nervous energy emanating from your gestures. Hotch noticed the way your hands shook just a little, the way your breath caught as you tried to focus on anything but the intensity of the moment.

He set the bags down next to your car, his gaze softening. "You seem a bit flustered," he observed quietly, trying to read your expression under the pale glow of the streetlights.

You chuckled, smoothing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I guess I'm just not used to running into someone as often as I run into you here," you admitted, your eyes meeting his with a playful challenge.

“There’s something about fate, isn’t there?” Hotch mused, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It seems to have its own ideas about who we should meet.”

Your laughter mingled with the evening air, a sound that seemed to linger pleasantly. “Maybe it does. And maybe I’m starting to think it might be right.”

He took a moment to look at you, really look at you, noticing the way the light danced in your eyes. He was normally not this forward, but he realized by your trembling hands and overall nervousness, he would need to make the first move, if he read his cards right. 

"Would you like to meet for coffee sometime? Away from these chance encounters and somewhere we can talk without a shopping list?"

The suggestion seemed to brighten your expression even more. "I'd like that," you said, your voice carrying a hint of excitement. "It’d be nice to talk without wondering if I forgot to pick up milk."

As he watched you drive away that night after exchanging information, the warmth of your smile lingering in his mind, Aaron Hotchner felt an undeniable spark—a connection that, while unexpected, promised new beginnings. In the quiet solace of his car, he allowed himself a moment to savor the unexpected joy of this burgeoning connection, looking forward to the conversation that would unfold over coffee, under less fluorescent lights.

The first coffee date unfolded on a Saturday morning, the cafe a cozy alcove tucked between the bustling streets of their neighborhood. Hotch arrived early, his demeanor calm yet expectant, as he secured a corner table that offered both privacy and a view of the autumn-stripped trees outside.

When you arrived, there was a hesitant grace in your steps, a visible pause as you spotted him, and a smile that slowly overtook your initial reserve. You looked genuinely happy to see him, your eyes lighting up in a way that spoke of both nerves and excitement.

“Hi, Aaron,” you greeted, your voice carrying a melody of anticipation, as you took the seat opposite him.

“Hello,” he responded, observing the way you neatly arranged your coat and purse beside you, movements precise and considered. It genuinely piqued his interest how you could be so confident, so put together--while also seemingly so nervous and unsure. 

As the conversation began to weave between the hum of other patrons and the clink of coffee cups, Hotch noticed the careful way you chose your words, as if each one were being weighed for its worth. You asked thoughtful questions, genuinely interested in his answers, but often diverted the conversation from yourself when it veered too close to personal.

Throughout the conversation, Hotch learned about your career in marketing at a bustling agency downtown. The passion you exhibited when discussing your projects was contagious, and he found himself intrigued by the enthusiasm that lit up your eyes. It wasn’t just small talk; it was a glimpse into your world, which was vibrant and full of ambition.

Though he couldn’t avoid noting the age difference between you two—nearly two decades—it didn't seem to phase you in the slightest. Your ease and confidence in engaging with him bridged any gap that the years might have imposed. For Hotch, trained to observe and analyze, the lack of concern you showed about the age difference only deepened his interest. You were refreshingly unconcerned with numbers, focused instead on the substance of your interactions.

This approach resonated with him. Despite the initial reservations he might have had, Hotch found that the more he learned about you, the more the age gap seemed inconsequential. Your curiosity about his life, your shared laughter over coffee, and the way your eyes met his with an unflinching openness—all these elements wove together into a compelling tapestry that made the numbers fade into the background.

In you, Hotch saw not the years that separated you but the possibilities that lay ahead. This unexpected connection, fueled by mutual interest and undeniable chemistry, was too significant to be overshadowed by mere numbers.

When he complimented you on your dress, a simple yet elegant choice that complemented the season, your cheeks tinged with a soft blush. “Thank you, I wasn’t sure if it was too much,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear—a gesture he was coming to recognize as a sign of your uncertainty.

“It’s perfect,” he assured you, his voice steady and reassuring. He noted then how your smile seemed to linger longer, a little more confident.

Coffee gave way to a walk through the nearby park, where the ground was a landscape of gold and red leaves. You walked slightly apart, respecting a mutual but unspoken boundary of personal space. Hotch observed the way your hands occasionally brushed against yours when your steps would sync for a moment, before you subtly pulled away, as if unsure of the contact.

“You know,” he started, breaking a comfortable silence, “it’s okay to just be yourself around me. You don’t have to be perfect.”

You glanced at him, a flicker of surprise in your expression. “I guess I’m just not used to this… to someone noticing,” you confessed, your voice a whisper against the crisp air.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Hotch said softly, offering a gentle smile that seemed to ease some of your tension. “And I’m glad I get to be a part of this with you.”

As leaves crunched underfoot, you gradually moved closer to him, your previous hesitation melting into a quiet comfort. Hotch welcomed the change, sensing the trust you were beginning to place in him.

It was during these simple moments—your laughter at his anecdotes from the BAU, your attentive silence when he spoke of his son, Jack—that Hotch realized the depth of your inexperience was matched only by your sincerity. And in this burgeoning connection, he found an unexpected kinship—a shared understanding that sometimes, the heart finds what it seeks in the most unanticipated encounters.

Over the next several weeks, the initial threads of attraction wove into a tapestry rich with shared moments and quiet discoveries. Each date that followed seemed to gently peel back a layer of your mutual reserve, revealing more of the profound connection that neither of you could deny.

On a cool evening, Hotch took you to a quaint Italian restaurant known for its secluded ambiance. He noticed how your eyes widened slightly at the sight of the candlelit table, the soft music in the background creating a perfect setting for intimate conversation. You seemed momentarily awestruck, a reaction he found endearing and telling of your inexperience with such deliberately romantic settings.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Hotch commented as he pulled out your chair, a gesture that made you pause with a soft 'thank you,' your voice barely above a whisper.

Throughout the evening, he was acutely aware of the careful way you placed your napkin on your lap, the glances at the array of silverware, and how you delicately navigated the menu suggestions he offered. It was these little nuances—your hesitant acceptance of his hand across the table, the way your smile slowly spread when he toasted to "new experiences"—that told him how new this all was to you.

On another crisp evening, as you walked together under the starlit sky, a conversation unfolded—a delicate dance of appreciation and hesitance. Hotch had noticed your lingering glances at the bouquet of flowers he’d brought you, a mix of admiration and something akin to concern.

“You really don’t have to keep doing this,” you began, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “The flowers, the dinners... it’s all so much.”

Hotch stopped walking, turning to face you under the glow of a street lamp. His expression was serious yet gentle. “But I want to,” he assured you. “It’s how I show I care. It’s not about obligation—it’s about expressing what I feel, in the way I know best.”

You looked up at him, the soft light casting shadows that played across your features, deepening the earnestness in your eyes. “It’s just... I’m not used to this. No one has ever...” Your voice trailed off, not from uncertainty but from the uncharted emotional territory you were navigating.

He stepped closer, his presence reassuring. “I know it’s new to you,” he said softly. “And that’s okay. But allow me to do these things for you. Not because you need them, but because I need to show you how much you mean to me. It’s not just about romance—it’s about respect, about cherishing the person you are.”

There was a moment of silence as you absorbed his words, the night air filled with the distant sound of the city. “I’m afraid I might get too used to it,” you admitted, a small smile breaking through your initial reservations.

“That’s the plan,” Hotch replied with a soft chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a genuine smile. “To get you used to being treated the way you deserve.”

You nodded slowly, leaning into him slightly, the barrier of unfamiliarity crumbling just a bit more. “Okay, Aaron. I... I trust you,” you said, your voice a whisper of surrender to the new experiences he was gently guiding you through.

Hotch’s response was a simple nod, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as you resumed walking. The city around you faded into a backdrop, a mere stage for a connection that was slowly, but surely, deepening with each shared moment and each tender gesture.

Each date was a step further into the uncharted waters of your burgeoning relationship. Hotch, being a man of tradition, felt a deep-seated desire to revive the art of classic courtship. He sent you flowers before each date, not merely as a gesture but as a symbol—a recognition of the budding something special between you. He took note of your favorite foods, your preferred genres of movies, and even the way you liked your coffee, memorizing the details like lines of an important case.

During an evening that carried the crisp edge of early winter, Aaron Hotchner and you found yourselves meandering through the quiet halls of a local art exhibit. The soft lighting and the hushed voices around you created an intimate atmosphere, echoing the growing closeness between the two of you. As you leaned lightly against his arm, your fingers brushing his, Hotch could sense your growing comfort. Yet, there remained a delicate trace of uncertainty in your gestures, a subtle reminder of your inexperience in navigating the tender dynamics of romantic intimacy.

As you paused before a particularly striking painting, your gaze absorbed in the colors and forms, Hotch watched you with a mixture of admiration and burgeoning affection. You shared your thoughts on the artwork—insightful yet tinged with shyness—that revealed a depth and sensitivity he found increasingly compelling.

"It’s beautiful," you murmured, "the way the artist uses light to express emotion. It’s almost like... like you can feel the warmth of the sun just by looking at it."

"Yes, it does," Hotch agreed, his voice low, his proximity closing in the space between you. "Art has a way of reaching into our souls, doesn't it? Drawing out things we sometimes struggle to express."

You turned towards him, your eyes meeting his, holding a spark that neither the art nor the soft gallery lights could rival. "I think that's why I like it here so much," you confessed. "It feels safe to feel things deeply."

The vulnerability in your admission, coupled with the earnest look in your eyes, stirred something profound within Hotch. He realized then how much he wanted to be a part of those unspoken depths, to explore the breadth of experiences that made you, you.

Encouraged by your closeness and emboldened by the evening’s serene beauty, Hotch found the moment he had been intuitively waiting for. "There’s something else I’ve been wanting to express," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he stepped closer.

Your breath caught slightly, anticipation mingling with a trace of nervous energy. Yet, you stood your ground, your eyes locked on his, a silent nod giving him the permission he sought.

Gently, Hotch cupped your face in his hands, his touch light yet filled with intent. He watched your eyes flutter closed, a sign of trust that fueled his own confidence. Then, carefully diminishing the last threads of distance between you, he kissed you.

The kiss was tender, a soft press of lips that spoke of respect and a burgeoning desire. It was an exploration, a question posed in the silent language of touches. You responded with an innocence edged with a burgeoning confidence, your hands tentatively reaching up to touch his wrists, holding onto him, into the moment.

As you both pulled away, the world seemed to resume around you, the sounds of the gallery flooding back as if someone had turned up the volume. Hotch looked at you, a gentle inquiry in his gaze, ensuring the step he had taken was right.

Your smile, shy yet radiant, was all the answer he needed. In that smile, Hotch saw not just your response to the kiss but a doorway to deeper connection—a promise of many more moments filled with discovery and shared warmth. Despite your inexperience, there was an undeniable rightness in the way you fit into his life, filling spaces he hadn’t known were empty.

As autumn bled into the year, Aaron Hotchner and you found rhythms of familiarity, the initial cautious steps of your courtship giving way to a more assured dance. Despite seeing each other regularly, the intimacy of a shared night had not yet unfolded. Hotch, ever the gentleman, respected the pace you set, knowing the depth of trust such a step required from you. He was patient, understanding that the connection they were nurturing was something profound, deserving of time and care.

One evening, as Hotch planned, brought you both to a jazz club where the dim lighting and the intimate clinking of glasses painted the perfect backdrop for an evening designed to draw you closer. Conversation flowed with an ease born of growing comfort and shared smiles, yet there was an undercurrent of anticipation, a silent acknowledgment of the evolving intimacy between you.

When a slow, soulful melody began to play, Hotch extended his hand, inviting you to join him on the dance floor. There was a brief hesitation, a visible flicker of apprehension in your eyes, before your hand slipped into his. It was a testament to your growing trust, a step further into the vulnerability of this new emotional landscape.

On the dance floor, your touch was tentative at first, as if the closeness summoned both yearning and a faint trace of fear. But as Hotch led, gentle and assured, you followed, gradually relaxing, your movements syncing with the languid music. Eventually, your head came to rest against his chest, a subtle surrender to the rhythm and to him. Hotch felt the shift, a melting of barriers that warmed him more than the music itself.

As the song waned, he leaned down, his voice barely above the music, "Are you alright?"

You nodded against him, your voice a soft murmur that vibrated through him. "Yes, this is... it’s really nice."

He smiled, his hand tightening slightly around yours, a silent promise of his protection and patience. "I'm here, I’m not going anywhere," he assured you, his voice a blend of tenderness and strength.

The moment was a delicate one, laden with unspoken promises and the electric thrill of potential. The night deepened around you, the music a rich blanket that seemed to weave itself into the very fabric of their burgeoning relationship.

As they stepped off the dance floor, the connection between you both was palpable, charged with the promise of shared tomorrows. Hotch felt the undeniable chemistry in every touch, every glance, each shared breath. He knew, with a growing certainty, that the slow build of their relationship was crafting a foundation strong and deep-rooted in mutual respect and an undeniable pull toward each other that neither could, nor wanted to, ignore.

Each gesture, each date, was a chapter in the evolving story of 'us'. Hotch knew the age difference might raise eyebrows, but in his view, the ways of old—courtesy, respect, and the slow dance of courtship—were timeless, meant to be upheld, especially when the heart found a genuine connection.

And in you, with your fresh eyes and tentative steps into romance, Hotch found not just a partner to protect but someone to cherish, to guide through the dance of affection and tenderness that life had, until now, kept just out of your reach. Each meeting, each shared laughter, only solidified his belief that despite the odds, the chemistry between you was undeniable—and deeply right.

As they stepped off the dance floor, the warm glow of the jazz club enveloping you, Aaron Hotchner sensed a subtle shift in your demeanor. The usual light in your eyes was clouded slightly by hesitation, a sign he had come to recognize as you wrestling with something unsaid. His protective instincts mingled with deep affection as he guided you to a quieter corner of the club, away from the lingering notes of the last song.

"You seem like you want to ask me something," Hotch said gently, his voice a grounding force amid the soft buzz of the club. His eyes searched yours, encouraging openness without pushing too hard.

You bit your lip, a nervous gesture that tugged at his heartstrings. "It's just... I sometimes feel like I'm under my own microscope," you confessed, your words tumbling out in a rush. "I overthink everything because I've never done this before. I wish I could just turn my brain off and just be, especially with you."

Hotch reached for your hands, holding them in his with a reassuring pressure. "Let's try that, then. Just be here with me, no pressure, no expectations. Can you try that for me?" His tone was soft yet earnest, hoping to ease the burden of self-scrutiny you carried.

You nodded, a fragile smile breaking through your apprehension. "I can try. Aaron, would you... would you like to come back to my apartment?" The invitation was hesitant, but your eyes held a hopeful spark.

Hotch felt a surprise ripple through him, but it quickly gave way to warmth. He was touched by your trust and moved by your courage to step beyond your comfort zone. "I'd like that very much," he responded, his voice steady, conveying both his respect for your pace and his readiness to follow your lead.

As you led the way out of the club, the cool night air seemed to buoy your spirits, lending you a newfound confidence. Hotch admired the way the city lights played across your features, casting you in a glow that seemed to mirror the burgeoning feelings he harbored for you.

The walk to your apartment was filled with an easy silence, comfortable and unforced. It was a silence that spoke of understanding and mutual respect, qualities that had become the foundation of whatever was blossoming between you two.

Once inside, you seemed to hesitate momentarily, the reality of the moment settling in. Hotch noticed the slight tremor in your hands as you hung up your coat. Stepping closer, he lifted your chin gently, guiding you to meet his gaze. "Remember, we're just being," he reminded you softly, his thumb caressing your cheek in a soothing motion.

The simplicity of his reassurance seemed to ease your nerves, and a genuine smile spread across your face. "Just being," you repeated, and in that repetition, there was a release of some of the tension you had been carrying.

That night, in the quiet sanctity of your apartment, with the city humming softly outside, Hotch and you found a new level of closeness. It was not just the physical proximity but an emotional connection that deepened with each gentle touch and shared silence. 

In the sanctuary you offered, Hotch felt honored to witness the layers of your vulnerability and strength, each one unfolding naturally, beautifully, right before his eyes.

Hotch’s observant eyes quickly taking in the surroundings that so clearly reflected your personality. The space was tastefully decorated, with vibrant plants dotting the corners and art prints that mirrored those you had admired earlier at the exhibit. Each detail seemed to tell a story, a quiet testament to your life and preferences.

Hotch noticed how the books on your shelf ranged from classic literature to modern marketing texts, suggesting a blend of deep thought and professional ambition. Small, framed photos of friends and family adorned another corner, hinting at a rich personal life, grounded in relationships that mattered deeply to you. It was these glimpses that gave him a fuller picture of who you were outside the moments shared together.

As you offered him a comfortable seat on the couch, Hotch could sense a mix of pride and vulnerability in your actions. It was as if you were opening up a private part of your world to him, and he recognized the significance of the gesture.

"I want you to feel free to share what you want here," Hotch said sincerely, his gaze meeting yours to emphasize his intent. "I’m not going anywhere, and there isn’t anything you could do or say to scare me off."

You nodded, a look of relief crossing your features, but there was a hesitance still lingering. Hotch decided it was time to address it directly. "What are you so afraid of?" he asked gently, his voice low and encouraging.

The question seemed to weigh heavily on you for a moment before you exhaled softly, the breath carrying with it the weight of unspoken fears. "I’ve never dated anyone before," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve never had a boyfriend before this... before you."

As you spoke, a blush crept up your cheeks, and you paused, suddenly realizing the implication of your words. Hotch caught your embarrassment and quickly reassured you, his tone warm and understanding. "Don’t be embarrassed," he urged softly. "And I’m sorry for not making it clearer before, but the term 'boyfriend' feels so much younger than I am." He smiled gently, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "But I most certainly want to be that for you, if you’ll have me."

Your eyes lifted to meet his, surprise and joy mingling in your expression. "I would like that," you said, the tension easing from your shoulders as you spoke.

Settled on your couch, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light around the room, Aaron Hotchner watched as another layer of hesitation seemed to cloud your features. He had come to recognize these moments—when you were teetering on the edge of sharing something significant. His presence, calm and reassuring, was meant to be a safe harbor for your thoughts.

"What’s on your mind?" he prompted gently, noticing how your fingers twisted together in your lap—a sign of your inner turmoil.

You hesitated, taking a deep breath before meeting his gaze with a newfound determination. "I want to be with you, Aaron," you started, your voice steady despite the obvious nerves. "I mean, I want to... have sex with you. But I have no idea how to initiate that."

Hotch felt a jolt of surprise at your boldness, though it was tempered with a deep respect for your honesty. He took a moment to compose himself, not just to temper his own reactions but to ensure he approached your admission with the sensitivity it deserved. He was a man, undeniably drawn to you in every possible way, yet he knew the weight of what you were proposing, especially given your limited experience.

"I want that too," he finally said, his voice low and earnest. "Very much." He paused, searching your face for any sign of discomfort. "Have you... is this your first time?" The question was delicate, his concern genuine, as he navigated the dual feelings of honor at being your chosen partner and the protective instinct that flared at the thought of anyone else having been with you.

You shook your head slightly a soft laugh appearing on your lips, a shadow passing over your features. "No, it’s not my first time," you admitted, and he felt a silent relief mixed with an unexpected twinge of something else—possessiveness, perhaps, or a protective anger toward anyone who might have hurt you. "I’ve done it once before, but it wasn’t good. I felt... rotten afterward."

The raw honesty of your words struck him deeply. Hotch moved closer, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your arm, offering comfort. "I’m really sorry to hear that," he said sincerely. "I want you to know, with me, it will be different. You are in control, and we will go only as far as you want, at a pace you are comfortable with."

Your eyes searched his, looking for the certainty and safety that had drawn you to him from the start. Finding it, you nodded, a tentative smile breaking through. "I trust you, Aaron," you whispered, leaning into the comfort of his touch.

Hotch’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions—care, desire, protectiveness. "Whenever you’re ready," he assured you, his tone a mix of promise and reassurance. "And we’ll make sure it’s a good experience, one that feels right for both of us."

The conversation marked a pivotal moment in your relationship, deepening the trust and intimacy between you. For Hotch, it reaffirmed his commitment to cherish and protect you, to guide you through the complexities of intimacy with the respect and affection you deserved. 

The conversation gently shifting to lighter topics, but the understanding between you remained profound—a silent acknowledgment of the steps you were ready to take together.

As the evening deepened, a soft jazz record spun quietly in the background of your apartment, casting a mellow sound that filled the space with a warm, inviting ambiance. Your taste in music, literature, and films surprised Hotch. They were much more akin to someone beyond your years--often beyond his years as well. 

Hotch observed you from where he sat on the couch, a half-smile on his face as he watched you move about the room, adjusting a pillow here, straightening a stack of books there—nervous energy channeled into tidying. But then, with a decisive pause, you turned to face him, your eyes holding a flicker of resolve that hadn't been there before.

"You know," you began, crossing the room toward where Hotch was seated, your voice steady but softer than usual, "I really meant what I said earlier, about... wanting to be with you."

Hotch's eyes followed your approach, noting the slight tremble in your hands that misrepresented your confident stride. He stood to meet you halfway, his height towering gently as he looked down into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, only a quiet determination, he nodded. "I remember," he replied simply, his voice low and encouraging.

Taking a deep breath, you reached out and tentatively placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. "And I... I'd like that to be tonight, if you're still okay with that," you added, your gaze lifting to meet his.

The sincerity and quiet courage in your voice stirred something deep within Hotch. He covered your hand with his, pressing it gently against him to affirm his consent and support. "I'm more than okay with that," he assured you, his other hand reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "We'll take this at your pace."

Encouraged, you stood on your tiptoes, bridging the gap between your heights, and pressed a tentative kiss to his lips. It was a soft, searching contact, seeking reassurance and connection. Hotch responded with equal gentleness, his lips moving against yours in a slow, respectful rhythm that allowed you the space to explore and deepen the kiss at your own initiative.

As the kiss grew more confident, your hands moved from his chest to loop around his neck, pulling him closer. Hotch's arms encircled your waist, drawing you into a firm yet careful embrace. The physical closeness brought a new layer of intimacy to the moment, and you both paused to catch your breath, foreheads resting together.

"Are you sure?" Hotch whispered, his breath warm against your skin, his hands steady and supportive at your back.

"Yes," you breathed out, your voice a mix of nervous excitement and resolve. "So sure."

With a nod of understanding, Hotch allowed you to lead him back towards the bedroom, each step measured and unhurried. He was acutely aware of the trust you were placing in him, and he was determined to honor it with every gentle touch and whispered reassurance.

The soft light casting gentle shadows around you, Hotch watched as you took a moment to steady yourself. Then, with a deep, shared breath, you both crossed the final threshold into intimacy, guided by mutual respect and a profound connection that promised to deepen with each passing moment.

Aaron Hotchner felt every subtle shift of the air as you moved slightly ahead of him, your steps hesitant yet filled with an intent that mirrored the pounding of his own heart.

As you reached the edge of your bed, you turned to face him, the light casting shadows across your features that highlighted the mix of anticipation and vulnerability in your eyes. Hotch, ever observant, noted the way your hands fidgeted slightly, betraying a nervous energy that belied the confident steps you had taken just moments before.

"It's okay," Hotch murmured, his voice a soothing baritone that seemed to resonate gently in the quiet room. He stepped closer, reducing the space between you, his hands rising to cup your face gently. "We can take this as slow as you need."

Your eyes searched his, finding reassurance in his steady gaze, and a tentative smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Thank you, Aaron," you whispered, the gratitude in your voice laced with an emotion deeper than the words themselves conveyed.

Hotch responded with a soft smile of his own, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your forehead—a gesture of affection and protection. Then, giving you the space to lead, he watched as you took a deep breath and reached out to him. Your hands, no longer trembling, found the hem of his shirt, and with a look that sought silent permission—which Hotch granted with a nod—you slowly lifted it over his head.

The act, simple yet laden with significance, marked a crossing into intimacy that Hotch handled with all the care and reverence it deserved. As the fabric parted from skin, it was as though barriers too were being shed, leaving a raw, beautiful honesty between you.

With the shirt discarded, Hotch gently took the lead, his hands guiding yours to the buttons of his shirt you wore. Each button undone was a mutual assent, a step deeper into vulnerability and trust. The cool air of the room brushed against your skin as the material parted, and Hotch's hands paused at your waist, giving you a moment to adjust to the new closeness.

"Are you still okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with concern and an unspoken promise to halt at any sign of discomfort.

"Yes," you breathed out, more sure than before, emboldened by his respect and your own burgeoning desire. "Please, keep going."

Encouraged by your words, Hotch's touch became more assured, tracing the lines of your arms as he helped you out of the shirt. His fingers brushed against your skin, each touch a word in the silent language of care they were writing together.

He never thought he’d get back here--never thought he’d be so lucky to have a second chance. 

In the shared quiet of your bedroom, with only the soft rustle of fabric and the steady, calming beat of two hearts synchronizing, a dance of mutual exploration unfolded. Each movement, each touch, was a discovery—a learning of boundaries, preferences, and the profound connection that pulsed vibrant and alive between you.

As the layers of fabric fell away, leaving vulnerability in their wake, Hotch felt a deep reverence for the trust you placed in him. The room was filled with the quiet symphony of their mutual breathing, punctuated by the soft sounds of fabric whispering to the floor. With every careful, considered touch, Hotch felt the gravity of your inexperience, sensed the weight of each movement, and honored it with his own measured responses.

Hotch was acutely aware of the significance of this moment for you. Each caress, each lingering touch was designed not only to explore but to reassure—to communicate that you were cherished, respected, and deeply cared for. 

His hands, steady and warm, traced the lines of your back, feeling the tension ease under his fingers. He could sense the leap of your heart, could almost hear the thrum of your pulse quickening with a blend of nervousness and excitement. Hotch’s own heart mirrored your tempo, a reflection of his own deep feelings and the earnest desire to ensure this experience was as beautiful and profound for you as the emotional connection they had nurtured together.

"Tell me what you need," he murmured, his lips close to your ear, his breath a soft echo in the quiet room. It was a question loaded with the promise of patience and the willingness to listen, to adapt, to ensure your comfort at every step.

You responded with a slight, almost shy nod, your voice a whisper that matched the tender atmosphere. "Just... stay close," you said, your hands finding his, seeking the reassurance of his grip. "Like this, just like this."

Hotch nodded, his eyes locking with yours in the dim light, a silent vow reflected back at you. He stayed close, his body aligned with yours, a steady presence that you could lean into and draw strength from.

The exploration continued, each touch a dialogue, each sigh a verse in the unfolding story of your closeness. 

Hotch was mindful, always, of your responses—the quick catch of breath, the soft sigh of contentment, the way your eyes fluttered closed in trust and surrender. These signs guided him, a map written in the language of touch and silent communion. He was a quick study, also, being with the same woman for over twenty years, he knew a thing or two about this subject.

Through careful, attentive touches, he discovered what elicited those soft, breathy moans that he knew he would never forget—the sounds that resonated deeply within him, stirring a blend of profound affection and desire. Each sound was a note in the symphony of their intimacy, a melody that he would carry in the quiet recesses of his heart.

You were eager to please, your movements and responses guided by an earnest desire to explore this new dimension of their relationship. Hotch could feel your eagerness, could see it in the way your eyes searched his for approval and reassurance. 

"You're doing wonderfully," Hotch whispered, his voice low and filled with warmth. The praise was not merely spoken; it was felt, communicated through every gentle touch and affirming look. He could see the way your eyes lit up at his words, a spark of joy mingling with relief fluttering across your features.

The way you responded to him, each movement and breath a testament to your trust and openness, resonated deeply within him. "You have no idea how good this feels," he continued, his hands guiding yours, encouraging each tentative exploration with a steady presence. "Not just what you’re doing, but knowing it’s you with me here."

His words were carefully chosen, aimed to reinforce the deep emotional landscape that underpinned the physical sensations. It was essential to him that you understood how profoundly he was affected by your presence, that it was not merely the act itself but the entirety of who you were that brought him such profound satisfaction.

And yet, little did you know, it took so little to please him when it came from you. The mere fact that it was you who was there with him, open and trusting, was more than enough to fulfill him.

In these moments, Hotch learned not just what you liked, but what you truly enjoyed—a discovery that felt both profound and sacred. He savored the honesty of your reactions, the unguarded way you shared yourself with him. Each revelation, whether a gasp of surprise at a new sensation or a sigh of contentment, was a treasure he stored away, a testament to the depth of the bond they were forging.

As the night wore on, the world outside their window forgotten, Hotch marveled at the deepening connection between you both.

The way you responded to him, the way your body arched towards his touch, spoke of a trust and a bond that went beyond the physical. It was as if each layer of vulnerability you revealed knitted you closer together, weaving a fabric of intimacy that was unique to the two of you.

When the dawn began to paint the sky with its first light, Hotch lay beside you, watching the rise and fall of your chest as you slept peacefully. In these quiet hours, he reflected on the journey they had embarked upon together. The intimacy they had shared was not just a physical union but an emotional, soul-deep connection that promised so much more.

The knowledge of what you truly liked, the memory of your soft moans, and the realization of how eager you were to please—these were not just moments of pleasure, but profound insights into the beautiful, complex person you were. And Hotch, ever the protector and now the partner, felt an overwhelming gratitude for the trust you placed in him, and a resolute commitment to be there for you, in all the ways that mattered.

As dawn cast a gentle light through the curtains of your bedroom, Aaron Hotchner lay quietly beside you, his gaze fixed tenderly on your form as you slowly awakened. The soft rays illuminated your features, highlighting the flush of your cheeks and the peaceful rise and fall of your breathing. He observed the flicker of consciousness return to your eyes, watched as awareness spread across your face, and sensed the slight tenseness that accompanied your realization of his watchful, affectionate eyes on your unclothed form.

A hint of shyness crept into your expression, a stark contrast to the openness you shared the night before. Sensing your self-consciousness, Hotch allowed a soft, teasing tone to warm his morning greeting, aiming to ease the tension he perceived. 

"Don't get shy with me now, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and slightly playful, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile.

The term of endearment, new yet fitting, seemed to deepen the blush that already tinted your cheeks. You turned to face him, your eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something else—perhaps pleasure. Hotch's use of "sweetheart" hung softly in the air between you, a tender label that was both an assertion of affection and a bridge across the morning's shyness.

Seeing your reaction, Hotch's smile broadened slightly, but he also felt a pulse of concern—wanting to ensure his words had been well received. 

"Do you not like that?" he asked gently, his head tilting to catch your gaze more fully, seeking to understand your feelings.

Quickly, you shook your head, the sheets rustling softly around you as you moved. "No, I like it," you assured him earnestly, your voice carrying a warmth that eased any lingering doubt in his mind. "I’ve never been called that before. It makes me feel... good." Your admission, simple yet profound, reflected the depth of your emerging emotions, revealing how such small intimacies were new territories being explored and cherished.

Hotch's eyes softened further, a profound tenderness settling in his features as he absorbed your words. The significance of the term—sweetheart—gained a new weight, symbolizing not just affection but a recognition of the intimacy and closeness that had flourished between you. 

"I’m glad," he murmured, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch as reverent as it was affectionate. "You deserve to feel nothing less than cherished."

In the quiet morning light, with the world outside still blurred by the early mist, Hotch felt a renewed sense of connection to you. Each shy smile, each hesitant yet trusting exchange, wove a stronger bond between you. Here, in the soft dawn of a new beginning, the previous night's vulnerabilities transformed into the day's strengths, each moment building on the last, each term of endearment a step deeper into the heart of what was swiftly becoming a profound and beautiful relationship.

The morning that continued was a blend of lingering sensations and the crisp return to reality as Aaron Hotchner made his way into the bustling environment of the FBI headquarters. The events of the previous night, filled with tender discoveries and shared warmth, were still vivid in his mind as he navigated through the familiar corridors toward his office. He was adjusting his collar, trying discreetly to ensure that no visible marks were showing, when Emily Prentiss caught him halfway down the hall.

"Hold it, Hotch!" Emily called out, a teasing smirk playing on her lips as she approached him with a purposeful stride. "You have a hickey," she announced with a mix of amusement and mock accusation.

Hotch, caught off-guard, touched his neck almost reflexively, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. "I do not," he countered smoothly, though his voice carried a hint of uncertainty as he felt the area she pointed out.

Emily laughed, pointing more directly now. "Oh, but you do. Right there, peeking from your collar." Her eyes twinkled with mischief, clearly enjoying the moment.

Memories from the previous night flashed through Hotch's mind—your growing confidence, the softness of your touch turning more daring as the night progressed. He remembered how your actions, once hesitant, had grown bolder, culminating in the passion that must have left the mark he was now accused of carrying.

Trying to maintain his composure, Hotch adjusted his collar once more, a futile attempt to cover the evidence. "It's nothing," he insisted, brushing past Emily toward the sanctuary of his office. He knew well the buzz this would stir among the team, especially once Emily shared her discovery.

As he closed his office door behind him, the slight smirk on Emily's face lingered in his mind. Hotch couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride mixed with embarrassment—after all, it wasn't just any mark; it was a token of the new intimacy and connection he had found with you. 

Deciding to embrace the lighter side of the situation, he took out his phone and composed a message to you, his fingers typing with a smile.

"Good morning, sweetheart. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about last night, or you. Also, thanks for leaving your mark on me—I’m trying to keep it under wraps here, but it seems I’ve been caught. Can’t wait to see you again."

He sent the message, the formality of his FBI role momentarily replaced by the warm, personal connection he now shared with you. Almost immediately, his phone buzzed with your reply, bringing an even deeper smile to his face.

"Oh no, I’m so sorry! I got carried away, didn’t I? I’m glad you enjoyed last night, though. I can’t stop thinking about it either..."

Hotch chuckled softly, the bashfulness and charm of your message warming him from within. It was these moments—these little exchanges—that continued to build the bridge between their worlds, a bridge that he treasured deeply.

Adjusting his collar one last time, Hotch settled into his day, the challenges of law enforcement ahead yet sweetened by the personal joy he now carried within him. Your presence in his life, marked subtly by the hickey hidden under his collar, was a secret badge of honor he wore with an inward, contented grin.

Later that day, as Aaron Hotchner navigated through the paperwork and case files that demanded his attention, he felt the presence of someone lingering near his office door. Looking up, he saw David Rossi, leaning casually against the frame with an all-too-familiar inquisitive look in his eyes.

“Got a minute, Hotch?” Rossi asked, his voice carrying a hint of mischief that only piqued as he stepped inside the office.

Hotch sighed lightly, already anticipating the direction of the conversation. “Sure, Dave, what’s on your mind?”

Rossi walked in, closing the door behind him with a soft click. “I’m just curious about the lucky lady who’s got you coming into work marked up like a teenager,” he teased, taking a seat across from Hotch.

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose, a resigned smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I was going to keep it more private, at least for a while,” he admitted, the reality that the team would inevitably find out now fully realized.

Rossi chuckled, his eyes twinkling with camaraderie and a bit of brotherly concern. “Too late for that, my friend. Penelope’s already done her digging. Showed us a photo of her.” He paused, watching Hotch closely. “She seems… vibrant. And quite a bit younger than you, huh?”

Hotch couldn’t suppress the slight flush of embarrassment mixed with pride. “Yes, she’s younger,” he confirmed, his voice steady despite the personal nature of the discussion. “She’s wonderful, Dave. Genuine, kind, and yes, younger, but I feel... rejuvenated, I suppose.”

Rossi’s laughter filled the room, easing any lingering tension. “Rejuvenated, he says. That’s one way to put it.” His tone shifted slightly, the humor mingling with sincerity. “It’s good for you, Hotch. After everything, you deserve a bit of happiness. Just don’t forget to bring her around sometime. We’re all dying to meet the woman who’s captured our fearless leader’s heart.”

Hotch smiled, the warmth of Rossi’s words reinforcing the acceptance he hoped for from his team. “I’ll think about it, Dave. It’s still new, and I want to make sure it’s right before making introductions.”

Rossi stood, heading toward the door but not without throwing a final quip over his shoulder. “Just remember, Hotch, the clock’s ticking. We’re not getting any younger, and you’ve snagged yourself someone who probably runs circles around you.”

“Only metaphorically, I assure you,” Hotch retorted, the banter a comfortable, familiar exchange between old friends.

As Rossi left with a chuckle, Hotch leaned back in his chair, the interactions with his team leaving him somewhere between frustration and enlightenment. The dynamic of the BAU was such that nothing stayed private for long, but perhaps in this case, it wasn’t such a bad thing. His team’s curiosity, albeit invasive at times, came from a place of genuine care and support. Adjusting his collar once more, Hotch settled back into his work, a small smile playing on his lips as he thought of you, his newfound reason for joy.

The rhythm of the latest case had Aaron Hotchner more bound up than usual, with long days bleeding into longer nights, each hour stretching thin as the team chased down leads and suspects. 

Despite the consuming nature of his work, a part of his mind remained tethered to you, his thoughts wandering to your last night together and the silence that had followed. As the days passed without a word from you, his concern deepened, shadowed by the worry that perhaps he had misread the signals or assumed too much about the bond he felt was forming between you.

During a briefing, Hotch found himself checking his phone again—a habit that had not gone unnoticed. JJ caught his eye, her expression a mix of concern and gentle teasing. "Expecting an important call, Hotch?" she asked, an eyebrow raised in playful inquiry.

He pocketed the device, offering a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Just keeping tabs on things," he replied, though his vague response fooled neither JJ nor himself.

That evening, back in the solitude of his hotel room, the quiet felt more oppressive than calming, each tick of the clock a reminder of the growing distance he felt from you. Resolved not to let the situation fester with assumptions, he dialed your number, the weight of his phone heavy in his hand.

When you answered, your voice brought an immediate relief, but it was tinged with a hesitation that prompted him to cut straight to the heart of his fears. "Is something wrong?" Hotch asked, his voice low and filled with a palpable concern. "If you're regretting our night together, it's okay, but I need to know."

There was a brief pause before you responded, your words slow as if weighing each one. "No, it's not that," you assured him. "I just... I'm inexperienced, and I didn't want to come off as the nagging, clingy girlfriend. I didn't want to bother you."

Hotch felt a pang of understanding mixed with a slight reprimand towards himself for not making his feelings clearer from the start. "You could never nag or be a bother," he said earnestly. "I want you to cling. I’ve been missing you."

His admission hung in the air, a bridge stretched out over the miles that separated you. After a moment of silence, filled only with the faint buzz of the line, Hotch's voice softened further. "Sweetheart, are you still with me?"

Your response was a breath, almost lost in the connection. "I'm sorry, I'm just taking all of this in. I miss you too," you admitted, and there was a warmth in your tone that made his heart swell. "Hearing that you miss me makes me feel so good. I never thought I'd get this."

The simplicity and sincerity of your words struck a chord in him. Hotch found himself reflecting on his past, on the loss and the loneliness that had once defined his days. "The feeling is mutual," he confessed. "You’ve brought something into my life I didn’t dare to expect again."

In the quiet of his hotel room, with the night pressing against the windows, Aaron Hotchner felt a profound shift. The connection between you and him, built on shared moments and the tender exchange of fears and hopes, was something deeply real—something worth every effort to preserve and nurture, despite the chaos of their daily lives. As he set the phone down, a sense of peace settled over him, the kind that only comes when two hearts find a way to beat in tandem, even across the distance.

From that heartfelt conversation onward, the dynamic between you and Aaron Hotchner transformed, becoming a constant stream of communication that threaded through the remainder of his case. Each text you sent, each call you made at the end of the day, wove deeper layers of connection and comfort into the fabric of his daily routine, which had often felt isolating given the demanding nature of his work.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of interviews and dead ends, Hotch felt his phone vibrate with an incoming message. It was from you—a selfie, your smile bright and genuine as you held up a large mug of coffee, your shared favorite…the one that brought you together at the grocery store. 

The image was a simple one, but it radiated warmth and a comforting normalcy. Your eyes sparkled with unspoken words, a silent message of support and affection that transcended the physical distance between you.

Hotch couldn’t help but smile, the stress of the day momentarily lifted by your thoughtfulness. He studied the photo, noting the way the light played across your features, the casual fall of your hair, and the cozy environment that spoke of a peaceful moment during your day. It was these glimpses into your daily life that he cherished, reminders of the vibrant, real person who had quickly become so significant to him.

Tapping out a response, Hotch’s fingers moved with a certainty driven by his emotions. “Thank you for this, sweetheart,” he wrote. “It’s the highlight of my day. Please keep sharing these moments with me. They mean more than you might realize.”

As the case progressed, with its usual ups and downs, the constant communication with you became something of a lifeline for him. Each message, each snapshot of your day, helped to ground him, to remind him of the life that awaited him beyond the paperwork and the critical decisions. Your willingness to reach out, to keep the connection alive and thriving, was a gift that Hotch did not take for granted.

Your conversations grew richer, filled with the mundane details of daily life and the deeper revelations that came with growing trust. Hotch found himself sharing more too, opening up about the challenges of his days, the small victories, and the moments that made him think of you. It was a mutual exchange, a give and take that balanced the scales of their relationship with equal parts affection and understanding.

In the quiet of his hotel room, as he prepared to finally head home after the case was closed, Hotch looked back on the past days with a reflective appreciation. The case had been tough, but the evolving relationship with you, punctuated by daily messages and endearing selfies, had added a layer of joy to his life that had been absent for too long.

As he packed his bags, ready to return to a routine that now included you at its heart, Hotch felt a profound sense of anticipation. The case had been solved, but a new chapter in his life was just beginning—a chapter that promised as much warmth and connection as the smile in the photo he had saved to his phone, a permanent reminder of the sweetness and light you brought into his world.

Returning home, Hotch found himself immediately swept into the world of his son, Jack, who had been patiently waiting for his father's return. Although eager to reconnect with you, Hotch knew that his first responsibility was to his son, especially after such a prolonged absence. Understanding the situation, you gave him the space he needed, focusing on preparing for an upcoming marketing conference.

One quiet evening, after dinner and a movie that Jack had picked out, Hotch found the perfect moment to broach a subject that had been on his mind throughout his recent work travels. They were sitting on the couch, Jack's head resting against his arm, the room filled with the soft glow of the lamp and the comforting silence that followed their laughter from the movie.

"Jack, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about," Hotch began, his voice gentle, ensuring it carried the weight of his words thoughtfully.

Jack looked up, his expression open and attentive, a look of curiosity spreading across his features. "What is it, Dad?"

Hotch took a deep breath, his heart filled with a mix of anticipation and hope. "It’s about someone very special that I’ve met recently. She’s become very important to me." Hotch paused, gauging Jack’s reaction to these initial words.

Jack’s brow furrowed slightly, then relaxed as he processed the information. "Is she your girlfriend?" he asked, his voice carrying a blend of childish simplicity and earnest inquisitiveness.

"Yes, she is," Hotch replied, smiling at Jack’s directness. "And she’s really wonderful, Jack. I was thinking, maybe you’d like to meet her soon? I think you’d like her a lot."

Jack seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Is she nice?" he asked, his criteria for approval clear.

"Very nice," Hotch assured him, his heart warming at the simplicity of Jack's priorities. "She’s kind, she’s funny, and she makes me very happy."

"Okay," Jack said, his agreement coming easily, much to Hotch's relief. "Can we go to the park or something when I meet her? Maybe have a picnic?"

"That sounds like a great idea," Hotch agreed, grateful for Jack's receptiveness and the ease with which he seemed to accept the news. "We’ll plan something fun."

As Jack yawned and snuggled closer to his father, Hotch felt a profound sense of gratitude for the open-hearted way his son approached the world. Turning his thoughts briefly to you, he felt a surge of affection and a quiet thrill at the thought of intertwining his worlds. He planned to text you later that evening, sharing Jack’s positive reaction and perhaps arranging that picnic Jack had proposed.

The day you met Jack was as picture-perfect as Hotch had hoped. On a rare warm day the three of you spent an afternoon at the park, bundled up under the tentative warmth of late winter sun, with a picnic spread that included all of Jack's favorite foods. Hotch watched, a soft smile playing on his lips, as you and Jack tossed a frisbee, laughter ringing through the air. It was clear from the way Jack clung to your hand as you walked back to the car that you had won his heart as thoroughly as you had won Hotch's. From then on, Jack often asked when you'd be joining them again, his acceptance both a relief and a joy to Hotch.

As winter melted into spring, the relationship between Aaron Hotchner and you blossomed with the season. The transition was marked by significant milestones and quiet moments alike, each one building upon the last, deepening the connection that had sparked during the colder months.

With you, every date, every encounter seemed to bring a new "first": the first time you cooked dinner together, managing somehow to turn spaghetti into a gourmet meal; the first time you danced in your living room to no music at all, just the rhythm of your own laughter; the first work event where Hotch insisted he joined you. Each of these moments was a step deeper into the life you were crafting together.

As the days grew longer, so too did your confidence in your relationship. Hotch noticed the subtle changes: the way your smile reached your eyes a little faster, how your hand found his in a crowd without hesitation, the ease with which you spoke of future plans, weaving him into the fabric of your visions as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Despite the growing security in your relationship with Hotch and Jack, the prospect of meeting his team—a group of people who were not just colleagues but family to Hotch—loomed large in your thoughts. You expressed your nervousness one evening, tucked away in the corner of a cozy cafe, your hands wrapped around a cup of tea for comfort.

"I'm just worried they won’t think I’m... enough," you confessed, your voice a whisper against the clatter of the cafe.

Hotch reached across the table, his fingers gently lifting your chin so you would meet his eyes. "Sweetheart, you are more than enough," he reassured you firmly, his gaze intense and sincere. "They’re going to love you because I love you, and because you are incredible, not just to me, but in your own right."

In the quiet intimacy of the cafe, as Aaron Hotchner uttered the words, "I love you," the atmosphere seemed to shift subtly, the world pausing for a heartbeat. His declaration, spoken so naturally in reassurance and affection, hung between you—a confession made all the more profound because it slipped out unplanned, unguarded.

As he watched your reaction, he saw the surprise that flitted across your features, your eyes widening as the magnitude of his words settled in. For a moment, Hotch felt a twinge of uncertainty—had he spoken too soon?

However, your initial shock quickly gave way to a deeper, radiant sort of joy. The smile that spread across your face was slow but unmistakable, lighting up your eyes and reflecting a mix of love and awe. "Aaron," you breathed, your voice thick with emotion, "you love me?"

Hotch felt a smile tugging at his own lips, his heart swelling in his chest at the sight of your happiness. "Yes, I do," he affirmed, more confidently now. He realized that saying it aloud, here with you, felt right—it felt true. "I didn’t plan to say it just now, but it’s the truth. I love you, and I have for some time."

Your hands reached across the table, finding his, a tangible connection that grounded the moment. "I love you too," you replied, the words seeming to fill the space with warmth and light. "Hearing you say that—it just makes everything feel so real."

Hotch squeezed your hands gently, a contented sigh escaping him. He was a man accustomed to control, to keeping his emotions tightly reined in, but with you, it felt natural to let those walls down. The love he felt for you was something powerful and deep, stirring parts of him he’d thought long dormant.

As the cafe continued to buzz around you, the world moving forward, the moment of your mutual confession felt like a sanctuary, a quiet space carved out of time where only the two of you existed. "It is real," Hotch affirmed, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "You’ve changed my world, and there’s nothing I want more than to keep building this life with you."

As spring unfurled its vibrant hues across the city, both you and Aaron Hotchner found yourselves drawn away from home by professional commitments—yours to a marketing conference and his to a case that coincidentally placed him in the same distant city. When Hotch discovered the serendipitous overlap, a plan began to form in his mind, a surprise that he hoped would light up your day as much as it did his.

Arranging to finish his day's obligations with the BAU team a bit earlier, Hotch made his way to your hotel. The thought of seeing your reaction kept a subtle smile playing at the corners of his lips as he approached your room. After a quick knock, the door swung open, and there you stood, momentarily taken aback but swiftly melting into a radiant smile upon seeing him.

"Aaron!" you exclaimed, surprise giving way to delight. "What are you doing here?"

"I was in town for a case," he explained, stepping inside as you beckoned him eagerly. "I couldn't pass up the chance to see you."

The joy in your expression warmed him more than the spring sun could, and in that instant, he knew he'd made the right call. After a few moments of catching up, he ventured further with his plan. "I have another surprise for you," he started, watching your curiosity pique. "How about dinner tonight with the team? They're all eager to meet you."

You paused, the initial surge of happiness tempering slightly into apprehension. Meeting Hotch's colleagues, the famed BAU team, was a significant step—one you hadn't anticipated taking quite so suddenly. Sensing your hesitation, Hotch gently added, "They're really looking forward to meeting you, sweetheart. But no pressure, we can do this at your pace."

Your eyes searched his, finding reassurance in his steady gaze. "Okay, let's do it," you decided, your voice steady with newfound resolve, bolstered by his support.

That evening, as you walked into the restaurant with Hotch's hand resting lightly on your back, a buzz of conversation and laughter greeted you, emanating from the table where the BAU team had gathered. Derek Morgan rose first, his demeanor open and friendly as he approached.

“Hey there! You must be the famous lady,” Derek said with a grin, shaking your hand with a firm, welcoming grip. “We’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

David Rossi followed with his characteristic charm, raising his glass slightly in a toast as he nodded toward you. “Welcome, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, his voice smooth and inviting.

Spencer Reid, slightly awkward but visibly interested, extended his hand next. “Hi, um, it’s really nice to meet you. Hotch talks about you a lot,” he admitted, pushing his glasses up his nose nervously.

Emily Prentiss’s smile was both warm and mischievous. “Don’t worry, only good things,” she chimed in, her eyes twinkling. “We’re really excited you could join us tonight.”

JJ, ever the empathetic soul, gave you a gentle hug. “We’re just like a family here, and anyone important to Hotch is important to us,” she said softly, making you feel truly part of the group.

As everyone settled back into their seats, the conversation flowed easily. You found yourself between Hotch and Spencer, who was more than eager to dive into an elaborate explanation about the historical origins of a case study he’d been reading.

“So, essentially, the behavioral patterns can be traced back to—” Spencer began, only to be interrupted by Derek’s good-natured groan.

“Reid, man, save it for the office. Let’s keep it light, yeah?” Derek teased, eliciting a round of laughter from the table.

You laughed, glancing at Hotch, who was watching you with a soft smile. “You fit right in,” he whispered to you, squeezing your hand under the table.

Derek, not one to miss a beat, caught the exchange and winked. “Look at Hotch, all romantic and stuff. We never get to see this side of him.”

Rossi joined in, his voice playful, “It’s good for him. Keeps him young.”

Hotch rolled his eyes but his smile remained, his gaze fixed on you with unmistakable affection. “I’m just glad she agreed to come tonight,” he said, his voice carrying a tone of deep gratitude.

As the evening progressed, the team shared funny anecdotes from past cases, carefully skirting around the more gruesome details, focusing instead on the mishaps and lighter moments. Emily recounted a tale involving a mistaken identity and a runaway suspect in a mascot costume, which had you laughing until tears formed in your eyes.

“You see, Hotch had to tackle the mascot, and when the head came off, it was the mayor’s nephew!” Emily concluded, as the table erupted in laughter.

The warmth and laughter of the evening did much to make you feel at ease, the initial apprehension you felt about meeting Hotch's team dissipating like mist. As dinner wound down, Hotch leaned closer, his voice for your ears only. “Thank you for being here tonight, sweetheart. It means a lot to me.”

Your response was a soft smile, your hand tightening on his. “I wouldn’t have missed it. Thank you for inviting me.”

As you both stood to leave, the farewells were warm and genuine, each team member making you promise to join them again soon. Walking out into the cool evening air, Hotch’s arm around your shoulders, you felt a sense of belonging and acceptance that was both new and deeply comforting. Tonight hadn’t just been about meeting his colleagues; it had been about joining a part of his life, a part that was important to him. And as you looked up at him, the city lights reflecting in his eyes, you knew this was just the beginning of many shared moments and memories.

As you entered the elegantly appointed lobby of your hotel, Hotch couldn’t help but comment on the plush surroundings with a gentle tease, “Looks like marketing agencies know how to treat their people right.”

You chuckled, leading him to the elevator with a playful nudge. “Maybe the bureau could take a few pointers,” you suggested, sparking a shared smile that lingered as you ascended to your floor.

Once inside your room, the reality of the beautiful evening began to sink in. The room was spacious and warmly lit, the city lights casting a soft glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Hotch watched as you slipped off your shoes and curled up on the plush sofa, a content sigh escaping you. Joining you, he felt an overwhelming sense of peace and gratitude.

“The team really liked you, you know,” Hotch said, his voice low and filled with pride. “They’ve never been so unanimously approving before.”

You looked up at him, your eyes soft. “I loved meeting them. They made me feel so welcome,” you admitted, your gratitude evident. “Thank you for making tonight happen. It was perfect.”

As you leaned into him, Hotch wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. The feeling of your body against his, the scent of your hair, and the warmth of your presence filled him with a deep, resonant joy. Sitting there, with the night sky stretched out before you both and the quiet hum of the city below, Hotch allowed himself a moment to reflect on everything that had brought you both to this point. 

“You know,” he began thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on the twinkling lights outside, “there’s something incredibly refreshing about being with you. Your perspective, your innocence—it’s brought out a side of me I thought was long gone. I’m... I’m really grateful for that.”

You turned to look at him, your expression tender. “I feel the same, Aaron. You make everything seem exciting and new, like there’s a world of possibilities I never knew about.”

In that quiet hotel room, a soft melody playing from the small radio on the bedside table, Hotch felt the weight of his usual responsibilities lighten. Here with you, the complexities of his job, the burdens of his past, seemed distant and manageable. Your innocence, far from being a naiveté, was a lens through which the world could be seen afresh, vibrant and hopeful.

So much of his life, the goodness in people had been tainted from his line of work and all he had been through. There was a clarity in being in your presence. 

He kissed the top of your head, a silent expression of his feelings. “I’m looking forward to exploring all those possibilities with you, sweetheart,” he murmured.

Your smile in response was all the confirmation he needed. The evening might have ended, but their journey together was just beginning, each new day promising more laughter, understanding, and shared growth. As Hotch held you close, the city’s pulse below you a faint echo to their own heartbeats, he knew that this—this right here with you—was exactly where he was meant to be.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

[dumbbookreader]

Achilles to Pyrrhus in the afterworld or something

[planetaryupscaled]

Pushing Boundaries

Male Reader x Jennie

Tags: 23k, cheating, anal, creampie, oral, tw

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.

Driving an Idol, Jennie Kim in this case, should have been a great job; after all you got to spend time with her in close company every day, to check her out and take in her gorgeous figure with every sly and secret glance at her. It was simply a perk of the job, what was at times a very long and tedious job despite the company you kept.

On this particular job things had been generally running smoothly though you were out in the middle of nowhere so the drives were long and the place to stay was nothing special. It was a nicer motel than the average schmuck might get sure but it still wasn’t the same as a nice hotel in a city, not that you often got a chance to stay there. Being “just a driver” meant you was often given basic budget digs and simply had to drop off your charge at a posh hotel, but that was part of the gig. Right now however you are in a simple motel and so were the star of the stage, meaning all you had to do was drive one place to another and nobody got anything better than anyone else.

Things had been good but were starting to unravel; the production was getting behind schedule, reshoots were constant now it seemed and you had to wait until much later than normal to complete your duties. Everything seemed to be going wrong and today was no exception as Jennie, expecting to finish her shooting and head back to the motel and a much desired shower, had been dressed down by the ever-more-angry director and ordered to reshoot several scenes because her work had been “utter shit and lazy, diva bullshit” to quote him directly. Jennie had got into a huge, storming argument with him over her alleged “lacklustre work” that had meant she’d screamed her voice hoarse and ended with tears streaming down her face to help ruin her make-up as well.

Of course you didn’t know any of this, you only noticed her face of thunder as she stormed up to the car three hours late, having had to calm down and be retouched by the cosmetic team before reshooting all the shots the director wanted, evidently making a point in putting Jennie in her place in front of the rest of the crew. She was seriously pissed as she wrenched the door open, straining it against the check strap before it almost bounced back on her, muttering and cursing under her breath as she threw herself into the seat beside you and slammed the door shut. She was in a seriously bad mood, you’d never seen her like that and just kept your distance as the Idol threw her bag down and didn’t even look at you.

“Drive, fucking drive,” she muttered intently.

“No problem,” you said quietly and started the car, pulling it into drive and setting off, wasting no time and letting the engine roar despite it being cold. Who cared, it wasn’t your car.

“Fucking asshole,” she muttered, seething with unexpressed rage as it ran over and over in her mind. You just kept quiet as she mumbled to herself and focused on driving, not wanting to get caught in the tornado of her mood. It didn’t seem to matter though and she just went off about it, venting on him and drawing you into it given you had no way to escape.

“What a load of bullshit, he just doesn’t fucking like me!” she snapped, to him but also herself as much as anything. You just looked ahead and murmured non-committally, not really having anything to add given you had no clue about the situation...though you knew Jennie; she was a hard worker and dedicated herself to her projects, you knew that much, but she did come across as a bit of a diva at times and you figured this was one of those moments.

“He was just picking on me! Picking me out, trying to make himself look big or something,” she babbled, looking across to you repeatedly as she animatedly ranted, waving her hands as she let her rage just pour out as she tried to elicit a response from you.

“That’s bullshit,” you murmured, knowing from your experience with woman that she was really on one and there was no point getting involved if you could help it. Telling her to relax or calm down would only turn her ire on you, and you really didn’t want that.

“All those fucking reshoots, Aish, what time is it even?” she said, looking round for the car clock and seeing it was nearly eight in the evening already.

“Nearly three hours, three hours of pointless do-overs,” she rambled.

“Well, it’s done now, let’s just get back to the motel,” you offered, pressing the accelerator just a bit harder to speed things up.

“Oh yeah great, a drive back for an hour to a crappy little motel with a bad shower!” she snapped.

“Company could be worse though,” you quipped, trying to lighten the mood with a glance across to her for the first time. All she had for you was an icy stare, not remotely in the mood to cheer up.

“Yeah, could be better though,” she said off-handedly, looking back out the window as she dismissed you. It stung, you had to admit; your relationship with her was pretty close, you both got along well and usually had fun driving to and from the set every day despite the length of the journey. She was usually fun and a bit flirty with you, playing a good bit of back and forth despite the ring on her finger and being honest it really knocked you back a bit with her being such a bitch when you’d never done anything bad to her.

“Feel free to walk,” you retorted, hot headed, just giving your blunt response in that moment. It could cost you the job if she decided to continue being a bitch and have you fired, but you didn’t care just then.

“Oh you got an attitude too now?” she snapped, looking back at you. You simply remained focused on the road and didn’t rise to it; you didn’t want getting into an argument with Jennie Kim no matter how much she wanted it and just kept your mouth shut.

“I don’t need this shit, off anybody. I’m running a major company and I know what’s up. All these projects I’ve been doing lately as well, I don’t need to come onto a shitty project like this and get talked down to by some jumped up director who wants to get him rocks off pretending he’s better than me,” she ranted, getting into it again and just winding herself up like a clockwork monkey, ready to bang her drums and make lots of noise for a short while.

“Right,” you said, again trying to distance yourself from it all with a roll of your eyes as you heard her start talking about another projects. You didn’t want to hear her media-approved schpiel about it all in some effort to convince you, you’d heard that before.

“Can your attitude. You’re no better either,” she snapped, turning on you quite literally and leaning over the center console towards you.

“What?” you replied, basically blurted out, caught out by her accusation.

“Yeah, think I don’t notice you looking at my ass? I saw you checking out my ass as I got in the car when you thought I wasn’t looking. I know my underwear was riding up, bet you like that don’t you?” she accused, narrowing her eyes as she stared at you with pure malice for a moment.

“Well...I...” you struggled, knowing you were busted as your heart rate rushed, body momentarily panicking as you realised she’d noticed you checking her out.

“Yeah you thought you got away with that, taking a look at my ass every time I got out of your car. This is what I’m talking about, I thought you were a good guy and then I see you doing that every day. What the fuck man,” she said, giving a shake of her head and looking out the window again.

“I thought we had a relationship more than that now,” she added, giving you no time to respond as she kept on at it, eluding to the fact you both been riding together for weeks now. In fact, the reason she sat up front was because she didn’t want to be in the back like your task required, she wanted to chat with you and have fun so despite the large vehicle she sat in the front seat next to you and talked with you on every ride.

“But you just look at me like a piece of meat, someone you’d like to fuck huh?” she said, goading you, giving you the come-on as she looked for more of a fight. You had no idea why she was insistent that it should be you -- perhaps you were just the next guy she’d run into that was below her that she could take it out on.

“Would you rather I didn’t want to fuck you?” you asked after a pause, raising an eyebrow at her. Surely she would prefer to be desired than ignored.

“I....hey fuck that, alright? That’s bullshit. Even if I did want that it doesn’t mean you should be checking what panties I have on every fucking day,” she snapped, momentarily caught off balance but responding with further bile.

“Well that’s how it is, I guess. I’m gonna look, you got me,” you replied with a nonchalant shrug, not caring now given she was clearly just going off and whatever you said didn’t matter a fuck.

“Fucking perv,” she scolded, giving you a look that you assumed was meant to be mean but just came off as a bit silly, too try-hard.

“You shouldn’t be looking at my ass like that, that’s not cool, I’m not some fuck doll for you to fantasize about,” she added. You rolled your eyes again, pressing the accelerator harder, intending to get this drive done as fast as possible and drop Jennie Kim, the bitch, off at the motel before finding a drink.

“And I’m your boss,” she said, looking across to you slyly, the implication clear...though she went on to expand in her somewhat vicious intent. You wanted to ignore it, just let it go but she was pushing and your hands were tightening hard on the steering wheel. Your knuckles were white from tension, movements jerky as you restrained yourself from reacting to her bullshit diva behaviour; it wasn’t your fault her director thought she wasn’t pulling her weight and had had at her but she was unloading it aggressively on you and something had to give.

“And I can get you fired, I don’t have to put up with this shit,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she stared at you.

“Fine,” you said, trying to hold back your temper that she’d bubbled up now; you had a temper, you wouldn’t deny that, but you kept cool and controlled especially with your job on the line but right now she was winding you up and you were struggling not to just let it go and tell her to shove this job straight up her tight, toned ass.

“And fucking slow down! Are you trying to kill us?” she exclaimed, seeing the speedo nudging 97mph as you aimed to get back to the motel as fast as possible. Jennie squealed and lurched forwards towards the dashboard as you stamped on the brakes, the car diving suddenly as you decelerated and throwing her forwards which she noticed immediately as she hadn’t fastened her seatbelt in her anger.

“Aish!” she cried out, catching herself and fumbling around as you spotted a good place to pull of the road and pulled the car onto it, tyres sliding in the dust as you skidded to a halt and lurched back, a cloud blowing all around as she sat back up.

“What the fuck?!” she asked hurriedly, pushing her hair back from her face.

“Just shut the fuck up, would you? Give me a break!” you snapped sharply, loudly, leaning close to her face as you said it. Jennie recoiled in shock, eyes widening as you suddenly spoke to her so bluntly.

“Fuck you, I own you!” she shot back, finding her nerve again, getting the fight she seemingly wanted after all.

“Fuck you, you don’t own me,” you shouted, then reached out to grab her, making her squeal as you manhandled her between the seats and threw her into the back of the car, where she usually rode up front with you. Jennie tumbled untidily into the rear seats, her ass giving a gorgeous glimpse as you threw her into the back before she collapsed onto the leather bench seat.

“Oh big man huh, gonna just get rid of me?” she said, pushing her hair back and pushing up on her elbow as she waited for your response.

“Just fucking can it, Jennie,” you snapped.

“Oh big man, gonna throw a woman around. What, you gonna come back here and fuck me as well are you?” she replied, the challenge clear in her tone.

“Maybe I should,” you said quietly, meaningfully. Jennie paused momentarily, not quite expecting your response and thinking it over for a split second before she replied.

“Oh really? Fine maybe you should,” she said, unable to back down, her ego too big to retreated.

“Oh yeah?” you answered, looking at her in the rear view mirror, seeing her eyes, those big, honest eyes that told you everything you needed to know: she was serious.

“Yeah fine, go on, fuck me. Why don’t you show me what you’ve got tough guy,” she said, no question or doubt in it, just a statement - an invitation.

“Fine,” you responded curtly and shoved the door open, getting out as Jennie’s heart raced, breathing fast as you stepped round and opened the back to get in with her as she immediately made space for you. She’d wound you up relentlessly and she knew she’d done it on purpose but she wasn’t sure her end goal with it all; you didn’t deserve it at all, none of her irritation was your fault, but she also knew she was desperately horny having been away from her fiancé for weeks and frankly this was the best possible outcome...as long as you kept your mouth shut.

You jumped in with her and locked the doors, wasting no more words on her as you seize the opportunity she’d presented you, grasping it with both hands as most men would. Jennie looked at you like a deer in the headlights for a moment before you grabbed hold of her, throwing her over on her tummy and shoving her towards the window, up into a doggystyle position as her forehead bumped the cold glass. You were strong and dominant, taking full physical control of her as you hauled her into position and then grabbed her trousers in readiness.

“Gonna finally fuck me now huh? Everything you wanted? I bet you’ve dreamed of this as you stared at my ass,” she goaded, finding her attitude again for a moment as she made no protest of what you were about to do and actually arched her back, sticking her ass out and letting her pussy bulge between her legs to invite you to get on with it.

She was hungry for it, waiting for the moment your cock slid into her; she knew she was going to shake as you did it which would give her away, that she loved it from the second you started fucking her but right now she didn’t care -- she needed to get fucked, and was sure she’d wound you up enough where you would. She needed it badly.

“Shut the fuck up,” you said simply, a straightforward command to the Idol as you grabbed her leggings and yanked them, and her thong, down her thighs to just above her knees, revealing her stubbly, half-shaved pussy and tight ass. Jennie shifted on the seat to get herself stable as you undid your trousers and released yourself as she imagined you standing up iron-hard for her, ready to split her in two. She didn’t have to wait long, mere seconds, for her question to be answered as you grabbed your rock hard cock and aimed it down to her hot, wet lips as your other hand grabbed her waist to constrain her, not that she needed it as you guided your cock to her opening.

Jennie cried out loudly in pleasure and pain as you suddenly plunged into her, wasting no time and doing exactly what she’d invited -- fucking her. You drove yourself into her hard as your silky body yielded to, and the clenches of her muscles did nothing to deter you as you slammed full depth inside her and shoved your hips into her ass as she cried out and grunted deeply, soulfully as you buried your cock totally inside her. Her pussy clenched hard and she shuddered in sensation, pain giving a sudden twinge but giving way to immediate pleasure at a cock being inside her for the first time in weeks, bumping against her cervix as it filled her completely.

She shuddered intently and knew the game was up, as she’d suspected her body had completely given away her excitement and arousal at this fuck and she was sure her wet pussy did little to dispel that. Your hand dug into her waist and pulled back at her hip as your other hand swiftly grabbed a handful of her dark hair, fingers twisting into her hair and pulling back at her head as she gasped. You wasted no time at all in fucking her, burying your cock into her initially then yanking back to get straight into a quick, hard rhythm; your pace was intense and full of frustration, rage even as you held her lithe bodily tightly and started absolutely fucking her hard and fast. You wasted no energy or motion, jamming her head into the window as she gasped and breathed hard, fogging up the glass as she looked out towards the road while you pounded into her from behind.

“This what you wanted is it?” you asked as you held on tight and fucked her, really fucked her, pounding hard and fast with short strokes that always hit full depth as you slammed yourself against her ass. You barely registered that you were fucking Jennie Kim of all people, your boss, the famous idol, just relishing the feel of her sweet, hot pussy clenching and squeezing around your cock as she absolutely loved your pounding into her from behind.

“Uh huh...” was all she could murmur, unable to lie as the pleasure washed over her, relief of finally getting fucked and so, so hard as you took out all your anger on your bitchy boss. You smiled as you continued, trying to find more pace and power, more energy, more aggression, more anger to let out on your evidently slutty boss who was quite happy to let you fuck her.

“Good, you fucking whore,” you said, adding to it as Jennie just groaned in pleasure as your rock hard cock slammed in and out of her, your hips jamming into her toned ass, making a gratuitous slapping sound as you cranked her back, pulling her hair harder as your intensity ramped up. It hurt, the burn in her scalp searing but she didn’t give a fuck, she was just loving it so much she’d frankly let you do anything you wanted with her as you pounded on her pussy and tingled her G-spot to drive her towards orgasm. You somehow knew what she needed and pushed up to lean over her more and push down against the sensitive spot at the front of her pussy

“Oh fuck,” she muttered under her breath as her cheek shoved against the glass, feeling your cock brutally push down against her vaginal wall, stimulating her perfectly, her arousal just too much as she felt her typically pre-orgasmic tremble shudder through her body. She was momentarily distracted as a truck suddenly went past, slower than it should, before heard the horn blare; you’d been spotted, seeing them pulled over and then her face jammed against the window with her eyes practically rolling as she gasped hungrily for more. Jennie just hoped she hadn’t been recognized as it disappeared down the road, focusing on to the sensations of your pounding against her ass once more and realizing she was ready to pop.

It’d taken no time at all; she was so horny and desperately in need of a good, thick cock inside her like she had right now that her body just responded to it, primally pushing all thoughts of her cheating from her mind as she shoved back into you as best she could. She needed every millimeter of your cock inside her and drove her pelvis back to maximize your penetration as she arched her back, your hand digging into her, face still shoved against the cold, sweaty glass as you pounded on her. The fact you’d clearly wanted to do this for so long only made it hotter, the way you’d just suddenly turned on her and fucked her, at her encouragement mind, taking her to task and now letting out every bit of frustration and want for her as you pounded her harder than she’d been fucked in years.

“Fuck me, god fuck me,” Jennie gasped, not caring that you knew she loved it now as you continued to smash her. Your hips slammed against her ass in a motion that must have been a blur, slapping noisily against her as your pulsing, twitching cock plunged into her again and again. Your shoves against her G-spot and the sustained way you were driving almost against her cervix had only cranked her orgasm up and up and with a sudden shudder it gave way as she came -- hard. She shook and opened her eyes, grunting hard as she climax washed over her rapidly, gazing through the misted winded onto the empty surroundings as her breath caught and stuttered into fast, struggling gasps through her noises.

You smile as you continued to pump yourself into her with all your might, loving how snug and wet her pussy was wrapped around your cock, loving how she shook and just begged for you to take her. Watching her come was a satisfying reward, loving that you’d made the gorgeous Idol peak in two minutes, unable to help herself as she whined in pleasure and dug her nails into the seat cushion. You pounded on her hard as she slowed down and quaked more deeply in culmination of her orgasm, the immense pleasure fading to leave her fragile and sensitive, fumbling to pull away from you.

“Slow down,” she breathed, barely a mumble through gasps for air, trying to recover as her forehead prickled with sweat. She tried to ask for it even as she knew you wouldn’t slow down, knowing she was your little toy right now and you were running the show whether she liked it or not. In fact, she loved it and even as she trembled in overwhelmed sensations, your thick cock ploughing her sweet pussy harder and faster than ever given how wet she was. There was no mercy, no break, no pause in your fucking, just slamming yourself into her as she struggled to take it though it only turned her on more than ever -- her fiancé never fucked her like this any more.

She grunted and groaned through it as you pummeled her ass with your hips, your thick cock straining and pulsing inside her, feeling harder than ever as you pursued your own orgasm. Her hot, clenching pussy had only helped to accelerate your climax and now you starting to bubble, the thought of finally fucking Jennie Kim getting to you. Jennie herself just moaned and mumbled tiredly in pleasure and a cocktail of stimulation as your thick shaft drove into her again and again, though you could feel her deliberately squeezing and clamping down on you with her vaginal muscles, aiming to maximize your ride and make her pussy the tightest she could.

“Fuck,” you grunted, your first exclamation that told Jennie you were enjoying her as much as she enjoyed you, her body so hot and tight, hands digging into her, loving how she responded to the rough treatment as you fucked her hard and fast with little focus on her own pleasure. Her orgasm said everything you needed to know about her love it and now it was time for your own, the tingle you’d been holding back growing into a deep, intense release that was waiting to burst forth. With no reason to now hold it back and her ass still shoving back into her cock as she worked to please you, you just picked up your efforts, somehow finding a bit more pace to smash yourself into her in the shortest, hardest strokes you could manage as she whined in pleasure.

“Don’t come inside me,” she breathed, urging you to pull out as she felt you strain and twitch, knowing you was on the brink and holding back for a final few intense, hard, body-shaking thrusts into her to slam her against the window. Instead she grunted as your hand dug into her waist and you shoved her face hard against the glass, smearing her lipstick onto it as she gave a muffled complaint while you jammed yourself as deep as possible.

“I’m come wherever I fucking feel like,” you said in a near growl, making her tremble in excitement, unable to deny how much she loved being fucked like this, totally dominated and owned as your thrusts immediately picked up the pace again. It was an overwhelming, eye-rolling moment of discovery as she was reminded what it was like to get properly fucked as you absolutely unloaded every bit of energy you had and stroked your cock into her with short, rapid pumps until you gave a final stiffen, a few last strokes and slammed hard into her to get full depth before your cock jerked and spurted deep inside to unload yourself against her cervix.

“Oh fuck...” she breathed as she felt your hot cum burst into her, spilling at the entrance to her womb; even though she’d asked you not to she wasn’t the least surprised you’d blown it inside her, choosing the most enjoyable method and leaving it up to her to deal with. It was hotter that you’d deliberately ignored her and done exactly what she’d asked you not to, just dismissing her and dominating her to the last as your balls tightened and you exploded inside her with short, hard gasps. You squeezed and clenched your muscles hard to urge every last drop of your cum into the pretty idol, giving in to the extreme pleasure of it all and letting it shudder through you, relishing the moment as you emptied your balls inside Jennie Kim. It’d been weeks since you’d had a chance to get any relief yourself and to finally get that with her of all people was a dream come true.

“Fuck that was good,” you breathed, squeezing a couple of more times as you just rested inside her, letting yourself have every chance before you slipped back out of her easily and turned to sit down on the seat.

“Yeah, exactly what I needed,” she breathed honestly, sinking into the seat but not looking back at you, embarrassed with herself and how much she’d enjoyed it. She’d given you the come on though and knew it was entirely her doing so she could hardly complain.

“Good,” you replied simply, pulling your trousers up and pushing the door open, Jennie inhaling as the breeze blew in over her bare ass and dropping to the seat now as you slammed the door and then momentarily slipped back into the driver’s seat. Jennie just rolled over and clumsily fumbled her yoga pants and thong back up, tugging them awkwardly over herself as she covered herself after the roughest, and most exciting, fuck she’d had for years. She felt exhausted, slumping into the back seat and letting it take over her, the tension falling off her like a coat in the aftermath as you started the engine and pulled away from the side of the road. Jennie looked up and your eyes met in the rear view mirror, a look that said everything -- you had everything she needed right then, and you was going to give it to her.

“You’re coming back with me,” you said quietly, commandingly.

“Yeah well, of course, same motel and all,” she proffered, trying to break the topic as if she didn’t know what you meant. She of course wasn’t stupid and knew exactly what you were saying.

“Don’t be stupid, Jennie,” you said with another look in the mirror, “I’ve got exactly what you need.”

“So speed up and give it to me, don’t make me wait,” she replied after a pause, longer than it should have been as she tried to think of a way to counter that. She didn’t have one and agreed that frankly you did have what she needed, and wanted, for the night so fuck it, she might as well just encourage it. She hardly had to wait as she heard the engine roar and the car surged forward, sinking into the seats and relaxing as she recovered, feeling both immensely satisfied by her climax and horny again already, knowing she was going towards a night of being fucked her without an ounce of control.

She fumbled around and got her phone out, looking through it as you focused on driving back as the light of the day failed and faded, sun sinking below the horizon now to bath the road in twilight. Jennie kind of enjoyed being your passenger again, riding in the back even if it was after you’d forcibly thrown her there and then fucked her. Fucked her harder than she’d ever imagined you would, and bought yourself a ticket to her for the rest of the night.

In what seemed like no time at all thanks to touching triple figures on the speedo you pulled up at the motel, guiding the luxury sedan into the entrance and parking up in easy reach of the front door. Few people were there at the bar except for the staff crew, and many of them hadn’t returned yet. You pulled up and stopped the car, getting out to open the rear door for her and usher her out towards the entrance of the motel like a proper guest. You saw her into the place then once they were away from the main foyer you grasped her hand and pulled her along, directing her towards your room as you made sure she couldn’t change her mind. She had no intention and let you pull her towards her night of adventure, unlocking your door easily and pulling her inside.

“Smaller than yours I assume,” you said with a smile, gesturing around; it was smaller than hers but not by as much as you’d think as her room at this place wasn’t exactly majestic, it was just a small motel in the middle of nowhere. It really was the middle of goddamn nowhere, which was why she was here in the first place, ready to get fucked even though she’d never had imagined she’d do this. It wasn’t her at all, she was faithful. Not any more though she figured, but despite that she wasn’t going to be a pushover and wanted to get some control back, to drive what happened and not let you treat her like a total fucktoy as was clearly your intent. Her body hadn’t given you any idea she wanted anything different mind.

“Look, I’ll stay the night and all, you got me alright,” she said as you threw your jacket down, looking up to her.

“We’ll hook up but it’s not like that,” she said, trying to wrestle back control of the whole situation somewhat.

“Not like what?” you questioned.

“That,” she said pointedly, raising her eyebrows, “like what just happened. I’m not your little fuckdoll for the night or something, I’m still your boss.”

“Yeah right,” you said with a short laugh, looking her up and down, amused by her faux indignation and attempt to boss you about.

“I’m serious, I don’t...” she started but was immediately cut off by you surging toward her to stand face-to-face with her, towering over her, making her suddenly feel small and powerless before you.

“Shut the fuck up, Jennie,” you said coolly, calmly...dominantly. She felt a tremble run through her and instantly wanted to submit, to let you take charge of her even if consciously she felt she shouldn’t.

“I’m in charge here,” you said, reaching out and firmly squeezing her breast through her baggy top, making her murmur then squeak as you were particularly rough with her.

“And you’re going to do exactly what you’re told tonight, just like you want to. You’re gonna be my perfect little obedient fuckdoll for the night, you really are,” you said deeply, so cool and calm with her. Jennie took a deep breath, realizing her heart was racing, pounding in her chest as you just totally owned her leaving her unable to reply. She simply didn’t know what to say or do.

“Now take your clothes off,” you ordered, stepping away from her to pull your own shirt off.

“All of them?” she blurted out, even though she knew the answer, scolding herself for even asking.

“Yes, Jennie, all of your clothes. What else do you think I’d want,” you replied, stripping yourself and leaving her to catch up as she took a breath and set about peeling her clothes off. It took her only a few moments to throw off her casual hoodie and top, easily unclipping her comfortable, unsexy bra and then shoving her yoga pants down again and this time off her feet to leave herself standing naked before you as she awaited instructions. Her dignity and any semblance of fight had left her completely and now she’d resigned herself to being exactly what you wanted her to be -- your fuckdoll. And she was sure she was going to love it.

“Very nice,” you said, glancing up her lithe, toned body, her workout regime paying off handsomely as she stood before you like a treat. She was slender, abs defined, a lovely thigh gap and her pussy was shaved into a nice landing strip, though she hadn’t kept up with it for a couple of days and stubble prickled her skin.

“Thanks,” she replied shyly, stupidly given what had already done. She was just waiting for you to lead her, which you did.

“Let’s take a shower,” you said, walking to the bathroom without a backwards glance. You just knew she would follow you and your trust that she would infuriated her, made her bossy attitude burn; she was literally your boss and could have you fired any time she wanted, but here she was in your room letting you order her about like someone you’d paid for. And what made it worse for her was she was giving into it, just feeling helplessly commanded by you and wanting to submit. She’d never been treated like this in the bedroom and couldn’t help herself, almost wanting to see where it went as much as anything else as she followed you into the bathroom.

The shower was already running with you standing under the hot cascade of water, washing down as she walked into the bathroom. You looked up to her right at the moment when she shivered, feeling your load of cum sinking down under gravity and threatening to leak out of her. You smiled and held out a hand to encourage her in, a hand that Jennie took slowly, letting herself be led into the shower and a night of exploration. She knew that’d been her last possible chance to leave but realistically she’d never even considered it -- if she was going to be pissed off and regret this, she wanted to see it to the end so she could properly complain about it, like watching a bad movie and refusing to walk out.

“Ohh,” she shivered as you pulled her under the hot spray, the night not cold but having been feeling a little chill without her clothes, the warmth of the shower tingling her perfectly. You pulled her into your arms beneath the tumbling water and finally fixed her with a kiss, pressing your lips to her firm, full pout. Tongues immediately entwined and found a perfect rhythm, mixing easily, so much better than she’d ever expected with a first kiss as you leaned down into her under the spray as she pressed her naked body to yours. She could already feel your erection pushing up into her tummy as your lust for her made itself evident, which she guessed she couldn’t really complain about as you felt her stiff nipples push into her body as her lovely breasts squashed between them.

“Mm someone’s ready,” she murmured with a smile as she felt your cock grow to full hardness as your hands slid down her back and squeezed her tight ass.

“Yeah, so don’t hesitate,” you murmured, kissing down her neck as she leaned back and sighed in pleasure, body tingling. She loved having her neck kissed and arousal spread through her like a wave, spurring her hand to fumble between them and wrap her slender fingers around your hard cock. It gave her a chance to properly explore and assess it given previously it was only being thumped into her cunt hard and fast from behind. Her hand stroked slowly up and down as you kissed her again, the hot water splashing down over while your own hands squeezed her ass, fingers teasing over her tightest hole before moving up to squeeze at her tits, your large hands easily encompassing her fairly petite chest, thumbing at her nipples carefully to stimulate the hard points.

You both didn’t speak, not needing to, satisfied at finally getting your hands on Jennie Kim, the woman you’d been driving to every day and who was in essence your boss. She was just lost to the pleasure of somebody finally getting their hands on her, the physical relief of it something she hadn’t realized she’d needed until now, loving the feel of your hands sliding and groping over her body, taking in every womanly curve of her, making her feel wanted and desired, lusted for, like a woman.

You reached out and grabbed shower gel from the shelf on the wall, liberally spreading it into your hands before soaping her up, spreading it over her shoulders and down her back to her ass. She just murmured as you spread her ass and reached down into every crevice of her body, pulling back from her to soap over her front. You spent plenty of time on her tits and enjoyed every bounce and squeeze of her as you spread the soap over her before lathering down her body, taking in her slender waist and the curve of her hips, her lovely strip of pubic hair and toned legs. She was quite taken by the way you showed her respect as you soaped her up and then turned her into the shower to rinse her down, loving the way the soap just seemed to peel down her body towards her feet over her lightly tanned skin.

Jennie murmured in pleasure as she just loved the intimacy of a shower with you, loving the attention you were giving her after too long without it. Your hands on her were a delight, sliding over her soapy body and taking in every womanly curve of her figure as you did, knowing exactly what you were doing with her. Jennie wondered how she’d completely overlooked you as your skill was evident and the thick cock she still had her hand wrapped around was a perfect fit. Oh sure she’d randomly contemplated doing it, she did with many men, but she’d never been serious about giving you a shot and realized she’d probably missed out. You had her now though and she was very sure you were going to give her everything you could; you’d already fucked her as though it was your only chance with her and she was sure things would only follow suit.

“Kneel down,” you said, only proving her right as she looked up into your eyes and then locked lips with you again, tongues fighting before she broke away and sank down in the shower with your hard cock throbbing right in front of her face. Assuming you wanted a blowjob she wasted no time in sucking you off, stroking and then immediately engulfing your cock in blissful liquid heat as her tongue assaulted. You groaned in pleasure and pulled your hand into her hair to encourage her as your cock swelled in her mouth, flexing and straining as you shivered at the incredible sensations of her velvet touch, feeling her suck firmly as she started bobbing her head.

Jennie rather enjoyed sucking cock and knew it always made men happy, loving the way they just melted to her touch as she set about devouring them, pushing them into her throat to let them feel her yield and stretch, shudder at her suck and tremble at her tongue. And as much as you loved that, intent on enjoying it fully, it wasn’t what you’d shoved her down for her and managed to refrain from getting lost in it totally as you reached out to squeeze some more shower gel into your hand and lather them together.

“Stop, Jennie, stop,” you reluctantly asked, pulling back a little to let your cock slip out of her mouth as she rocked back onto her heels and looked up at you. It was a perfect scene; the lovely Jennie Kim knelt before you, your hard cock pulsing moments from her mouth, her big eyes staring up to you in total obedience as the water splashed down.

“This is what I want,” you said firmly, your dominant tone directing her effortlessly as you reached down with both hands to soap and squeeze her firm tits in readiness before grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her up onto her knees. She cried out slightly as you yanked her up, pulling her to her tallest position as your other hand guided your cock to press it against her chest between her firm B-cups, the implication clear.

“Wow ok I’ve never really done this much,” she conceded, since her more humble chest wasn’t something many men seemed to focus on.

“I don’t care, grab them,” you ordered and with that Jennie did exactly what she was told and pushed her hands up under the sides of her tits to squeeze them together around your cock. She didn’t really know what she was doing but figured it would work just fine as she looked down to see her petite boobs squeeze up around your cock, feminine flesh engulfing your manhood with the soap concealing her nipples. Your hands went to her shoulders as you thrust against her, your cock easily slipping up against her wet, slippery body, trusting her to keep control her lovely breasts as you pushed your cock between them. You drew back slowly and then thrust up against her again with a slow, controlled motion that let you feel every little thing.

Your cock glided easily against her succulent, soapy body, the softness of her tits absolutely divine as they wrapped around you and perfectly sealed against the throbbing hardness of your cock. She just looked down as you started to thrust against her with a slow, powerful rhythm that told her that you wanted to enjoy it as her body rocked with your energy. You held her and she was glad that you did as your thrusts pushed her back towards her heels, something she knew would have made her toned thighs burn if she’d had to resist it all herself, able to focus solely on pressing her perky tits up around you.

Her nipples were rock hard as the soap slid off the neat, screwed up points of her breasts, water trickling down over her as you shielded most of the shower behind you. She looked down and enjoyed the sight of your thick cock pushing up between her tits, loving the way her body yielded and smoothly gave way to your manhood as you shoved it slowly and deliberately against her body. Unable to resist the pleasure of it, you started to pick up the pace and pump your hips forward against her faster, pushing into her more firmly to make her rock back then resist as you used her body for your pleasure. Jennie looked up to you, taking her gaze from her chest as she looked up to you with a smile, rather enjoying giving you a tit fuck especially when you seemed to enjoy it so much.

“Like that huh?” she asked through her smile, starting to rock her body a little, tightening her abs to let herself push down onto as you thrust up, accentuating the sensations around your rock hard erection as you slid between her perfect, soap-slick tits.

“You seem pretty good at this for someone that’s not done it before,” you smiled, not slowing down for a moment.

“I didn’t say I hadn’t, just not much,” she replied with a naughty little half-smile.

“Well you should do it more, you seem a natural,” you said, straining against her harder as she worked at you, getting into a motion as the water poured down over your back, steam filling the bathroom from the hot water as she worked up and down to massage her gorgeous tits around your cock. Just to enjoyed it for a couple more minute, you pushing harder and faster against her sternum while she focused on pressing her tits together for you, soap washing gradually away so there was more friction, more intensity to encourage you to thrust quicker as your erection pulsed between her tits.

Your fingers dug into her shoulders more and you helped to push her down as she bobbed on her knees, arching her back as she worked. Her breaths were short and sharp, almost rasping as she exerted herself, feeling the ache in her body and oblique muscles as she exercised herself in a somewhat unusual way. She worked out a lot, her video posts on social media showed that off plenty to everyone that wanted to drink in her tight body, but this motion was unlike anything she trained for as she compressed herself but arched her back to push her perky chest out for you. Still, her abs were strong and she put herself into it, doing all she could as the bathroom filled completely with steam so you both practically couldn’t see, condensation streaming off the mirrors and glass, beaded over everything cold or metal.

“Mm fuck,” you growled, cock jerking against her stiffly, so much so it made Jennie sure you were going to pick up the pace and work to the end on her before you suddenly slowed. Giving a final, lingering push up again her chest, you held for a moment then released her, stepping back as she let go of her tits, in tune with your clear intention for that to be it with her tits -- for now at least.

“Come on, we’ve got things to do,” you said, pulling her up from her knees by her arm, which helped given her somewhat tingling legs from where she’d been knelt down.

“You have…” she said, looking you in the eyes, “me.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, loving that she was seemingly onboard now and was enjoying herself. You turned the taps and shut the shower off, the hot cascade suddenly stops and leaves embraced by silence, broken only by the last few drips of the water fading away. You stepped out and grabbed a towel, throwing it back to Jennie as if she was always at your place as you picked up another for yourself, burying your face in it and rubbing through your hair. She let it tumble open before pressing it to herself, not bothering to be modest as there was no point, rubbing over her body to absorb the water from her body as you watched on with a smile. Her make-up had survived surprisingly well, only a little smudged from the shower.

She smiled back and just let you enjoy the view as she reached down to dry her legs, rubbing over her tight pussy before pulling the towel behind her to draw it over her back and down across her ass. Jennie giggled a little as you seemed enthralled by her, just drinking in the sight as she lifted the towel up to work it through her damp hair, stretching and displaying her body perfectly as you absent mindedly dried yourself, hands just on autopilot as you didn’t miss a thing.

“Very nice, all those workouts clearly pay off,” you commented, the evidence right in front of you.

“Thanks, I certainly work hard enough,” she replied as you cast your towel aside and grabbed her hand, leaving her idly rubbing round her neck as you led her out of the steamy bathroom into the main bedroom once more. You pulled her to the bed and then turned round, sitting back down onto it, your stiff cock sticking up for her; she assumed you would just pull her into your lap and slide inside her again to make her ride this time but found you had other plans.

“Kneel,” you commanded, pulling down at her wrist to urge her towards the floor. Without hesitation she sank to the floor smoothly, kneeling on the carpet at your feet and swallowing in preparation for what she assumed would be another blowjob.

“Up, now,” you commanded, Jennie struggling to her feet on tingling legs as you pulled her hair -- then took her by complete surprise by twisting and grabbing her over the shoulder and between the legs like a body slam and throwing her powerfully over and down onto the bed.

She squealed as you swung her over and cast her down on the sheets, her slender body bouncing on the mattress as her feet jumped up towards the ceiling, looking backwards as you stood over her. Without a word you grabbed her wrists and pulled her to the edge of the bed, Jennie craning up to look around before you shoved her head down, tipping it back off the side of the bed.

“Right there, that’s what I want,” you said firmly, dominantly, using a tone she’d not heard from any man and it made her tingle in excitement...and obedience. She knew she had no control over things anyway and just opened her mouth like whore, knowing it was what you wanted her to do and would make her if she didn’t. You were so turned on to see her just present herself, opening her mouth and closing her eyes, head back, knowing what you would do to her. This wouldn’t be any ordinary blowjob and you didn’t disappoint in showing her how, grabbing her face to direct her as you dipped your knees and shoved your cock down with your other hand and straight into her waiting mouth.

Jennie immediately sucked and applied her tongue, giving you a moment to enjoy her skills before you go straight to it and shoved into her throat. She gagged, unable to stop herself, knowing this was how it would be but unable to help herself. She’d never been very good at controlling her gag reflex but she got the feeling it wouldn’t matter a fuck to you right now. Jennie was absolutely right and you held her head and shoved hard into her throat, feeling her constrict and tighten around your cock to halt your progress. It didn’t deter you however and you knew you’d break her, shoving repeatedly with more and more pressure into her throat, making her gag and choke noisily, heaving on the bed before you, thick saliva running down her face now and making her close her eyes.

“Fucking take it, come on,” you said, an encouragement and an order at the same time, wanting into her throat as you pushed at her straining form. It took a few more attempts but with one, slow, powerful drive into her mouth you felt her resistance flutter, strain and fail suddenly so you jolted forwards into her and blissfully buried every inch of your cock into her hot, squeezing throat as she could fight it no longer. The noise she made was music to your ears as she gave a loud, wet gagging sound that was immediately muffled, wrenching and convulsing on the bed as she struggled before she gagged hard through her nose.

Her hands dug into the bedding, not trying to fight as you might have expected and as she might have claimed she would only a little while before. She just intended to take it, even as her eyes streaming and her make-up ran down her face, throat aching as it tried to push your cock back out, body heaving and spasming on the bed. She fought to calm herself down as you pulled back and gave her a second to breathe, Jennie hauling in a huge breath before you shoved your cock back in and followed her inhale down to neatly trick her and thrust yourself back into her throat before her body could react. She surged and choked again, hating how her body was doing this and also you for doing it to her, though she couldn’t deny how wet her pussy was from it.

Her hand strayed from the bed even as the other stayed twisted up in the covers, knuckles white from how tight she was holding it. She pushed her hand over her body and down between her legs, shocked at how wet she was, drenching her fingers as she found her clit and started to slowly circle it to let the pleasure in. You loved seeing her start fingering herself, telling you that despite whatever she thought she was enjoying herself in a primal, physical manner and it only spurred you to keep going at her for your own pleasure. She was clearly enjoying that.

“That’s it, just let me in,” you murmured, the silence only punctuated by her heaves and wet gagging along with your deep, intense breaths. She mumbled something but you obviously couldn’t work out what and frankly you were enjoying yourself far too much to care or give her the time to speak. You were absolutely rock hard, tingling with pleasure as her throat tightened hard around the head of your cock to stimulate your nerves with every thrust into her resisting mouth. She gagged and mumbled as you smashed into her throat, making it bulge as you drove fully down each time.

Jennie’s fingers danced precisely at her clit as she pleasured herself to being used so completely, utterly under your control as you leaned over her and dominantly thrust your hips forward to force your cock into her throat. Even though her body kept trying to fight, unable to stop herself, her muscles were weak and aching, a mere token protest now as you powerfully and methodically pushed yourself into her throat. You were loving pushing down into her, seeing the slight catch as your bulging head popped into her throat and made her tense, trying to hold it down as you pressed yourself right into her throat until your balls were against her face.

You could only hold back and sustain that for a couple of minutes however before your lust and want to use her throat took over, steadying your feet and starting to thrust much faster. Your strokes were shorter and harder, full depth every time as she gasped desperately, choking back her gags and hauling in breaths where she could. Her dark eye make-up streaked down her face as her eyes watered helplessly and she clung to the bed, only with one hand however as her other continued to stimulate herself, more aggressively now, her fingers grinding around her sensitive button intently. Her tongue, which had been attempting to join the party, gave up under the onslaught and she just held it fixedly to stroke your cock as you pumped in and out of her mouth.

The wet sounds of her throat were all that broke the air of the room as you plundered Jennie Kim, taking joy at every moment you could, knowing this was a once in a lifetime chance. Your hands were pressed hard into the mattress of the basic motel room as you stood prone over it and thumped your hips down into her waiting mouth, loving the bulge of her throat around your head, tingling the most sensitive areas. You gazed down over her tight body, perky tits with her nipples screwed up hard, toned abs clenching and pulsing as she struggled to take your cock, her fingers still working hotly at her clit. This was certainly going to help work her abs out.

“Oh fuck,” you growled, feeling a characteristic tingle as your cock pulsed and stiffened, knowing your orgasm was coming fast. You didn’t know if Jennie could feel it but didn’t really care and pressed on hard, picking up speed to thrust harder, shoving against her pretty face more intensely as you pursued your climax towards its inevitable conclusion. She hadn’t felt the hardening of your cock, that typical rock hard pulse that always signified the arrival of climax, but she heard your breathing increasing, getting harder and shorter, feeling your energy picking up as you thrust more rapidly into her. She couldn’t do anything apart from brace herself on the bed, both hands now stuck into the bedding as she held tight and just endured it, still gagging and choking, struggling to breath and practically creaming herself without being touched. She absolutely loved it.

You didn’t pay much attention to it but you knew she was into it, loving her playing with herself as you felt the pressure build in your balls. Your thrusts turned to a flurry, intensity unleashed now as you pumped her throat as hard and fast as possible, barely pulling two inches out of her before shoving back against her full lips in an overwhelming rhythm that she could barely handle. Her breaths were gasps, wet strangled grabs of atmosphere as you grunted and growled with pleasure, eyes squeezing shut as you trembled, holding it back. Thick saliva ran from her mouth and down over her cheek to run into her hair and drip to the floor as you pumped her throat, unable to stop herself from gagging around you.

By now Jennie knew exactly what was coming and couldn’t do anything to change it even if she wanted to. You thumped your hips hard into her, shaking and holding on until it burst forth in a sudden, incredible explosion; jamming yourself against her hard to shove her head back into the foot of the mattress, your cock jumped and swelled as you ejaculated intensely down her throat, a thick rope deep into her where she had no choice but to swallow. Jennie gagged hard, as much as you suddenly stopping as anything, feeling your hot load jetting into her as your thick prick jumped and surged in her mouth.

All she could do was mumble, unable to breathe as you pinned her down to empty your balls, pressed to her face. She held on as you pulsed and jerked to spill every last drop of your thick, salty load down her throat and then held still to make her swallow, Jennie quickly figuring out you wasn’t going to let her go if she didn’t. It wasn’t a big deal, it was so deep down her throat it was half way there and with an awkward heave and a gurgle she swallow it all. You pulled back and slipped your thick cock out of her mouth, standing up as you withdrew to let the idol haul in a huge, undignified lungful of air, taking several deep breaths as she turned her head and let a huge string of thick drool slide out of her mouth to the floor with a mumble of embarrassment and relief.

“Fuck that was good,” you breathed. She couldn’t reply, totally exhausted after her first, proper throat fuck.

“Ready for some fun?” you asked as you reached down slapped her face a couple of times, making her complain and snapping her back to reality as you moved round the bed. She was completely at your mercy and unable to fight back, just zoned out for a moment as you grabbed hold of her feet and hauled her round on the bed, dragging her head back onto the mattress to give her neck some much needed support. She mumbled incoherently as you spread her legs wide open and exposed her shaved but stubbly pussy, pulling her to the edge of the bed so they hung over it.

Without a word you dropped to your knees and shoved your arms up under her thighs, shoving them over your biceps as you lowered your head and drew your tongue straight over her puffy labia, letting the tip split her lips so it collided with her sensitive, rock hard clit. Jennie gave a stuttering sigh, breathing deeply as you went down on her, your tongue immediately going straight back to her begging button and softly pressing perfectly into her folds to stimulate her. Jennie gasped and groaned heavily in pleasure as she tipped her head back into the bed and rolled her hips up towards your intimate touch.

“Oh fuck, that’s so good,” she breathed, having not had her pussy eaten in so long. Her fiancé was good at it but he hadn’t done it for her in a while and when she was so turned on already it was an absolute treat. Her whole body tingled as your tongue touched her clit, pushing up under the hood and circling around her, different textures of stimulating every desire of hers as it slipped over her. Her hips rocked rhythmically into your tongue as it worked up and down, steady and powerful as you breathed hotly over her mound and just stimulated her perfectly, seeming able to read her just right.

The Idol just groaned in satisfaction and unmitigated enjoyment as you lapped at her juicy pussy, already so turned on from what you’d just done to her as she’d shamelessly loved her first face fuck even if it had been a messy struggle. She was dripping wet and your tongue easily parted her swollen lips, splitting them effortlessly as you dipped down and dragged back up from her asshole all the way to her throbbing clit. You focused onto her juicy entrance, loving how she was into it as you glided over her and just teased, making her wait and frustratedly wiggle before burying your tongue inside her.

She moaned in ecstasy with a shiver, pulling her legs up against your hands as her skin goosepimpled, body alight at every touch now as she relished the way your tongue twisted and swelled inside her to stimulate every nerve ending of her velvet walls. You thrust it inside her and swirled around, her slick juices coating your chin as she basked in pleasure, loving how you seemed to pay attention to every part of her. That was only confirmed as you pushed down and pulled your tongue over her asshole, returning the favour as she gave a tremendous surge and her breath caught in her aching throat. She’d never had her asshole licked properly before and felt the new, exciting sensations as your tongue spent several seconds licking and playing over her tightest hole before you swept back up to her clit.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, reaching up to push her hair back from her face, arching her back and trying to push down harder into your expert tongue as it took her towards orgasm. The climax was building intently in her tummy as she felt things tightening up, the tension accelerating as it bubbled up from her soul towards the inevitable. You could feel it, the way she was rocking and pulsing, the tightening of her muscles under your hands as you held her on the end of the bed. It only made you even more focused and you ate her hard, going as briskly and powerfully as possible on her without giving her that bit too much, your tongue aching as you prodded, probed and circled her clit.

The tip of your tongue worked in hard, small motions as you thrust it over her clit from all directions, breaking it up with circles one way and then the other beneath her hood for the most direct stimulation. She gasped desperately as you took her to the edge, not making her wait or teasing her however as you pressed ahead and drove her over the edge with the continued onslaught of your intimate ministrations. Jennie gasped helplessly for a few seconds as she ground her pelvis against your chin, fingers digging into the bed as the climax rushed up on her until she could hold it back no longer with a tremendous shake.

Her eyes squeezed shut and she threw her head back into the bedding, long hair tumbling over her face as her body primally quaked as the powerful orgasm hit her. It was harder than any climax she’d had in months, certainly more than her vibrator had given her whilst out on the road and she just gave in completely to its power. She let out a long, wailing, trembling moan of unadulterated pleasure as her toes curled and legs bucked in your grasp, feeling you lean on her hips to hold her down as your tongue continued to thrash at her to make it last as long as possible. Her hips gave strained motions to try and push up into you as she enjoyed every last second of the wave of ecstasy you’d brought her, ignoring the near-cramps in her legs as her muscles screamed while she creamed.

And suddenly it was over, like falling off a cliff and back to reality as she was suddenly finished, squeezing her thighs together and fumbling down towards to push her fingers into your hair and stop you as she gasped deeply for breath. She sucked in the oxygen as her eyes opened to the bright room, vision wavering a little in the wake of it all before she closed her eyes again and sagged back into the bed, exhausted ecstasy taking over as you pulled yourself back from between her clenching thighs. Her legs sagged open easily as you pulled yourself away, the idol basking naked before you totally sated and relaxed.

You just sat back with a smile, rocking onto your heels as she breathed deeply on the bed, completely wiped out for a moment in the aftermath of another powerful orgasm. Holding her hair back, she enjoyed the silence and peace after coming hard again which only made her realize how much she’d needed this and that her toys simply weren’t enough for a prolonged period. Her basking was interrupted as your fingers suddenly slipped into her, making her inhale in surprise as two of your digits teased momentarily at her slick opening and then pushed inside. Her body just welcomed it and she easily spread around the penetration to allow your fingers to slide inside, her pussy so juicy and ready she would have struggled to stop it even if she’d wanted to.

She shuddered and groaned in sensitive pleasure, still touchy from her peak but ready for more as you delved inside her, stroking her velvet walls and thrusting them slowly in and out of her. You could feel just how hot and ready she was, perfect for you to slide your cock inside which you were going to do now that you were rock hard again and ready to give it to her. You curled your fingers back and pulled back towards her entrance to press up for her G-spot, seeking out that little rough patch on the front wall of her vagina and finding it expertly as she gasped, groaning and grinding her pelvis into your hand slowly to help you stimulate her as your fingertips worked neatly.

Just as she was getting into it, thinking you was going to work her to another climax with your fingers, you stood up and leaned over her, slipping out of her and grabbing her slender legs to lift them from where they still dangled over the bed. You pulled them up and threw them over your shoulders, pressing yourself against the back of her thighs as you reached down to line yourself up and in an instant thrust inside her. Jennie gasped in surprise as you immediately buried yourself inside her, her body offering no resistance or hesitation, just letting you bury every inch of cock into her tight body in a single stroke.

“Fuck,” she muttered with a shuddering breath, trying to take it in as her eyes squeezed shut, the shiver spreading through her body as it all overtook her. You shook in similar pleasure, the feel of her slick, tight pussy just too much as you delved inside her, feeling her gorgeous body rubbing over every sensitive millimeter of your manhood.

“Fuck that’s nice,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and just relishing the sensations as you pulled back and started thrusting into her, taking your time to be slow but powerful. Effortlessly drove yourself into her, your hips pressing to hers as she took you balls deep and grunted with every pump, feeling you shove into her completely and nudge her cervix as you bottomed out. She just flopped back on the bed and enjoyed letting you fuck her, loving your thick cock inside her, how it stretched her out and pulsed inside her velvet tunnel. Jennie could tell you were absolutely loving it, loving getting your hands on her, loving taking your bitchy boss down, loving getting your rocks off and turning the tables on her for the night.

And she did too. She hated that you had so much control over her but she couldn’t resist, knowing you had her since you could mention it to the right people and her fiancé might find out and you obviously had long since given up caring if she got you fired for this. She wasn’t going to, she had too much to lose and frankly was enjoying herself; she figured if she kept up her end of this deal then you wouldn’t say shit to anyone. Except her.

“Fucking love this don’t you?” you asked, making her point immediately.

“Uh huh,” she groaned with a smile, bracing herself on the bed underneath as your pace picked up and you started to thump harder against her ass as you drove yourself into her. You relished the feel of her, the slippery sensations, pulsing and flexing your cock inside her as you worked your hips to give her every last bit of it. She was certainly enjoying it as she rolled her hips on you, doing her best given the way you were holding her legs and restraining her movements, the idol just using her significant muscle tone to resist and shove against you to rock her body.

You smiled down at her, loving her toned and lithe body as she held herself tight and worked her pelvis, tight abs looking delectable as she did, tilting her hips down with every ever-accelerating thrust into her. Your pace picked up but you were in full control, calm and cool, your cock hard and up to the task as you fucked the gorgeous Idol. Didn’t let the fact that this was something that would likely never have happened, not letting the moment overwhelm or overexcite as you pumped into her, confident in your endurance as she gasped and groaned in sheer pleasure beneath, just giving up to the enjoyment of it all and letting herself feel every thrust and motion of it.

You pushed your hands up under her knees then pressed them back onto her, rolling her hips back and pinning her legs down over her as you used her impressive, gym-honed flexibility to bend her into the position you wanted. Jennie was pinned down as your helpless fuckdoll now as you leaned right over her and started to fuck harder, pumping much faster and shorter into her as you suddenly picked up the pace to thump your thick cock into her hungry pussy with greater intensity. You surprised her by leaning down between her legs and kissing her, drawing her into a hot, hurried lip lock, tongues battling noisily as you never let up with your pumping, never disturbed or disrupted, hand still pinning her legs back under her knees as you both made out hungrily.

You pulled away from her and stood back up, thrusting into her harder and more intently, making her grunt at a twinge from her cervix as you plunged especially deep before she was lost to the pleasure of your thrusting into her hard and fast. Using the entire length of your cock, slammed back and forth rapidly, stimulating every nerve ending she had it felt like as her pussy just lit up around you, loving the feel of you fucking her hard now. The renewed angle meant you shoved up against her G-spot more effectively, the contours and ridges of your cock gliding and grinding over the sensitive patch to make her pussy clench.

You knew exactly what you were doing, knowing exactly how to fuck to give the maximum pleasure to women and Jennie Kim was no different. She was proving it as she gasped faster underneath, loving how you pinned her down and slammed your cock into her, your pace much faster now as you ploughed her with your thick, rock hard cock. She felt the same characteristic tingle again of an impending orgasm; it made her angry at herself, at her body that she would love it so much as to come again so soon and validate how you was fucking her. Jennie didn’t want to show you how much she enjoyed this, knowing it would only embolden you, but the bottom line was your cock and energy were just fantastic.

She grunted again and shuddered, body tightening up in pre-orgasmic tension, knowing you’d see it and just fuck harder. Absolutely correct, her body rocked harder as you shoved into her and pushed her down into the bed, pinning her legs back to her shoulders now as you leaned down on her heavily and thumped your hips into her to bury your cock over and over again into her hot, sweet pussy.

“Gonna come, Jennie?” you asked teasingly, smiling with smug satisfaction. She just turned her head away onto the bed as she blushed, feeling the heat in her cheeks to match the rush of sensations building from her G-spot as you fucked her. And you were fucking her, not making love to her or anything tender like that, pinning her on her back on the bed and slamming your thick cock into her like she needed. It only took another minute or so of that treatment, the shape and ridges of your thick head rubbing relentlessly over her most intimate spot to bring her to climax, making her tremble then shudder on the bed underneath.

You gave a contently laugh as you saw her quake in pleasure, whole body shaking as her eyes clenched shut and her fingernails dug into the bedding again as another orgasm hit her. It wasn’t as intense as it had been previously but it was still good, being fucked to climax was always something she enjoyed so it was all she wanted in that moment and you didn’t disappoint. As she came you fucked harder and faster, pounding her intensely for a few seconds as she wailed her pleasure to the motel room, clinging to the bed and pushing herself into you to take every possible inch of your cock as her body bucked and shook, abs clenching, jumping and shaking underneath your relentless thrusts as she gave in to another orgasm.

Unlike when you’d fucked her in the car in cramped doggy style, the squeezing and gripping of her pussy didn’t set your own climax off. You had more stamina than that, especially now after getting into it and simply fucked her through her orgasm then slowed as she couldn’t stand it any further, giving a final few thrusts and then stepping back to slowly, and teasingly slip your cock out of her until it jumped in front of her. Not that she could see it, her head still back into the bedding with her eyes closed as she took deep breaths in the wake of another hit of ecstasy.

That was until slapped her across the chest, your hand connecting with her perky breast to make it bounce and jiggle. Jennie’s eyes popped open as she gasped sharply as the sharp, completely unexpected pain shot through her, the sting spreading through her skin as it pimpled up and her nipple twisted up harder again. Her dark brown eyes fixed on you intently as she cried out harder in shock when you hit her from the other side, slapping her other breast to make it jiggle in turn as you struck her. She wanted to protest, to complain and tell you not to, how dare you treat her like that....but she didn’t. She couldn’t. It stung, the blows of your hands swatting at her gorgeous body as you were emboldened by her silence and started hitting her again.

The sting turned to pleasure and she shivered as her skin pricked across her body, hairs standing on end as she gave a deep, shuddering gasp, her eyes squeezing shut again as she embraced the different sensations of your hands slapping down onto her. Knowing she was enjoying it only made you smile and urged you to keep on, hitting her a bit harder, faster and more intently, your fingertips biting into her skin a little as you added a hint of pink to her skin. She shook on the bed as her nails dug into the sheets again as she let the intensity of it all wash over her, just breathing hard, hungrily in pleasure and pain, almost tempted to tell you to stop...but more tempted to beg you for more.

Men never treated her like this, your hands moving over her body as you expanded to slap down her sides and over her toned tummy. She tensed up from the bed as you did, reacting to the pain pulsing her mid-section as she twisted underneath you in ambivalent sensations that rushed through her. Your pace and speed picked up in a rush that made her not know where to turn, metaphorically speaking, until she let out a ragged cry of pain and shock as you reached up and slapped her across the face. She took a momentary shocked look at you then clenched her eyes shut again as you slapped her again, your energy lessened, being a bit more careful as you made her flinch.

“Just don’t leave any marks on me,” she gasped hurriedly as you paused for a moment. She didn’t take the chance to tell you to stop, to beg for mercy or complain it hurt. No, all she did was ask that you didn’t leave anything on her that she’d have to explain to the make-up girl the following day and essentially give you the green light to continue mistreating her. Jennie was rewarded with a harder slap to her face, wincing as another then another rained down on her then another, your hands picking up a rhythm to deliver a series of fast, increasingly harder slaps to her pretty face as she gasped and endured it.

When you stopped her cheeks were a healthy pink and her eyes were watering again, her ruined make-up running just a bit more over your handiwork as you leaned back up from her to leave her gasping and at your mercy beneath you. Her pussy was so wet that you could easily slide back inside her, something you took advantage of to make her inhale sharply as she felt your thick cock slip into her velvet folds once more. You drove full depth for a moment, giving her a few thrusts and then pulling back out again as she opened her eyes and leaned up, looking down to see you pull out of her as her chest heaved. She was caught off guard as you suddenly reached up and delivered a hard, final slap across her face, making her yell out as the pain really bit into her, tingle of pleasure gone as you caught her flush.

“I’m gonna fuck you in the ass now,” you said casually, standing up away from her and giving a slight stretch.

“What?” Jennie blurted out, unsure she’d heard you properly as the sting faded from her face, pushing her elbows into the mattress to lean up.

“Your ass, I’m gonna fuck it,” you reiterated, calm and clear so she was in no doubt. She wasn’t, and that was a problem; she didn’t like anal sex, she never had after trying it and finding it painful and uncomfortable, not to mention she hated giving up that much control in doing it.

“I don’t like anal sex,” she said quickly, “it hurts and just....I don’t,” she finished a little lamely.

“Well that’s too bad,” you replied with a slight shrug, her concerns dismissed as easily as that.

“Come on, do you have to?” She tried to convince you not to bother.

“Have to? No of course not,” you said, giving her a glimmer of hope, “But I want to,” you finished, crushing it.

“After the shit you gave me earlier, I deserve to, I’ve always wanted to,” you smiled, reaching out to play your fingers over her toes, tickling her playfully. She had nothing else to say, simply looking into your eyes and giving a small nod to submit to it, knowing you called the shots and was certainly good at that, having her under the thumb as you urged her to slide back up the bed, following her on as her feet retreated. You were fired up, in control and dominating her, getting everything you wanted as her resistance simply seemed to crumble away. The idol looked up at you with wide eyes, waiting for your next move as you smiled and grabbed her hips.

You threw her over onto her front, surprising her with your strength as you took control and easily turned her slight, slender figure over where you wanted her, grabbing her ass with a hard squeeze, spreading it apart to reveal her tight asshole and making her juicy pussy lips pry open just a little.

“Mm this is gonna be fun,” you murmured to yourself though she could hear it as your hands hooked under her pelvis to pull her back up on her knees into a perfect doggy style position for you to plunder her most secret, sensitive treasures. She didn’t resist, resigning herself to it now and knowing that without a doubt you were gonna fuck her in the ass; she’d never liked anal sex, having tried it and hated it, finding it painful and not in any way satisfying. The guys she’d tested it out with just treated her like a fuck toy which probably didn’t help and the second they felt her tight ass on their cock they lost all care for her wants or needs and had just gone straight at it way too hard and fast for her to handle, resulting in tears and complaints...and refusal to ever do it again. On top of that she hated giving up so much control, submitting completely for it and feeling so dominated, that was something she really didn’t like.

But here she was, about to get fucked in the ass again as you yanked her back into place and shoved down on her back to make her arch into the perfect, most vulnerable position. She was yours now and just took a deep breath, settling her knees into the bedding as you pulled up behind her, your cock sticking up rock hard as you relished the chance, spitting thickly into your hand and reaching down to rub it over her asshole as she twitched at the somewhat unexpected touch. You slicked what was left over the tip of your rock hard cock and then grabbed the base, thick dick surging in your hand as your other grabbed her hip to pull her back in place, pressing yourself to her. It was the moment of truth for Jennie, about to get fucked in the ass again for the first time in years.

You wasted no time on her, in charge and holding her still as you pushed against her tightest hole; it was a unique sensation and one she had no idea how to prepare for, having never really had any interest in doing so. Jennie tried her best as you pushed forward, willing herself to resist even as her body subconsciously tightened up to resist you, her asshole is tight and strong as you guided your cock and shoved forward to try and penetrate her. You slipped over her a few times, applying more energy and weight to her as your cock took advantage of a brief lapse in her resistance and spread her asshole to drive in.

Jennie let out a cry and yanked forwards, pulling out of your grasp before you even got inside her, the stretch of her sphincter sending a sharp bolt of pain through her and making her instinctively get away from it, rocking forward on her knees so your cock slipped back out. You gave her a moment then pulled her back up into position, hand hooked under her pelvis to try and keep a more commanding hold of her.

“You need to relax,” you said, your only guidance throughout this. If it hurt it was her problem and you really could only do so much but didn’t want her to dislike it, after all it was only a positive if she enjoyed it. You just wanted to experience her tight asshole stretched around your cock and plunder her ass on this, your one opportunity to have at Jennie Kim. She settled herself again as you took aim and pushed at her once more, your tip working into the muscular ring of her asshole and pressing against her resistance again, ready to squeeze yourself inside. Your hand pulled hard into her hips as you shoved forwards, leaning over her this time as you forced your cock down into her asshole, catching her a little by surprise somehow and getting the jump on her muscles to pop your cock inside her. Your bulbous head popped inside her, breaking through her tightest resistance to jerk blissfully inside her, loving how it felt around your cock head, tingling your nerves perfectly as she clenched on you.

That was the peak of it however as she yanked forward again, her strength surprising as she pulled out of your grip once more and off your cock, making it spring out of her once more as she dipped towards the bed and clenched with a near howl of pain at her ring being forced open so abruptly again. You surged over her, energy wasted as you gave a growl of frustration, Jennie burying her face in the bedding as she winced at the sharp, intense pain hitting her.

“Fucks sake,” you snapped, leaning up then reaching out and laying a hard smack straight on her ass, making her clench and scream in pain, your fingers flexing to deliver every bit of power into small, intent points of pressure. It was frustrations boiling over a little, knowing she could do this if she let herself.

“Behave, Jennie, you can do this,” you said authoritatively, angry but in charge, cooling yourself as you dominated her, just knowing that she’d respond even if she didn’t love it. Your hands grabbed her again and yanked her back, harder and more focused than before, making clear that you wouldn’t stand for her playing up any more. You meant it too, holding her so hard it almost hurt as your fingers dug into her tanned skin where you supported her, in total control of her as you positioned yourself again. You didn’t lube her any more, figuring she didn’t deserve it now as you guided your throbbing cock into position and leaned over her once more, intent on getting on with it now.

“Now hold still, just take it in,” you commanded but in a softer tone, holding her still and pressing your bulging head against her asshole, still rock hard despite the delays. You would not be denied the tight pleasure of her booty and with that eased forward slowly but powerfully to split her open, pressure building against her tight ring of muscle until you suddenly slipped in and she grunted as you were greeted by the hot, wet sensation of her pussy around you where you’d slid down into her. You pulled back, aiming yourself again and stabilising yourself more, hand right near your tip as you guided yourself to press hard at her ass, inexorably building until you felt her yielding and in a slow motion moment felt her stretch tightly around you, forced open reluctantly by your throbbing head as you broke her strength and entered her slowly.

You growled in pleasure, shivering at the ultra tight sensations of her wrapped around you as Jennie gave a muffled protest, body tensing in pain as it twinged through her intently and made her heart race. Tears pricked her eyes as the pain shuddered through her, lasting and not immediately subsiding as she felt pulse your cock, the hardest you’d ever been it seemed as you relished the moment. Your hand was still at her hip, holding her tightly in place so she couldn’t escape as you made no offer of pulling back or giving her a break, instead letting her grab a single breath before pushing your weight down onto her and squeezing the rest of your cock into her ass in a long, continuous push until be buried yourself balls deep inside her while her restrained complaint became a cry of pain.

You relished the moment of getting to press your hips against her ass, feeling the pained spasm of her sphincter around your shaft as she struggled to deal with, her breaths hard and fast as she fought the pain. Ignoring it, you held her hips tightly lest she escaped and pulled back to start thrusting into her, drawing your cock back full length and then shoving it roughly inside her again, wasting no time with slow, steady thrusts to get her going and instead just going for it, pursuing your pleasure. You knew she didn’t like it, she couldn’t relax and just give it a go, but couldn’t help the fact you did, shoving deeply into her again as she grunted in pain and flinched again.

“Fuck, gimme a break,” she whined, eyes squeezed shut as a tear slid down her cheek, wishing she could relax but her body was just so tight that in that moment she had to endure as you held her like you owned her and pumped your hips against her ass to bury your full length inside her again and again. Every pull back let your thick head just bulge her asshole a little, making her body instinctively clench again, sending the pain back through her once more and just giving every bit of pleasure you wanted at her tightest hole. She felt fantastic and the fact she was hating it, as she’d said she would, somehow made it hotter in a way and only spurred you on to fuck her harder, faster, more intently, more ferociously.

She could only complain more as you did just that, picking up the pace, slamming her harder so she rocked on the bed and had to brace herself into the covers. Jennie couldn’t believe she’d got into this situation frankly, down on her knees in a crappy motel, head buried in the sheets as a guy shoved his cock up her ass much to her dismay. It wasn’t even like you were a producer or director, somebody that she might be sleeping with to advance her career or get ahead, it was just her driver, the guy that literally just drove her to set every day and then back to her own room at this piss poor place to stay. Instead she was in your room, with your cock up her ass.

And her pussy was dripping; she was the wettest she’d been in years and frankly was afraid it would drip on the bed, her body so turned on despite her pain that if you wanted, she was sure you could easily bury four fingers inside her. It made her both hugely turned on and utterly humiliated, that something she hated so much just made her pussy so wet, so ready, her clit rock hard in arousal at your vicious penetration of her asshole. Your balls compressed against her pussy with every thrust, her juices coating your cock to give her away and exactly how much her body was enjoying this, this domination, this utter ownership she was giving in as you fucked her in the ass for the first time in years.

She would be angry and deep down she was -- at herself. Jennie knew she had instigated this even if she’d never expected it to go so far; she had given you the invitation, goading and taunting you into fucking her, quite literally inviting only for you to take it and give her one of the roughest, hardest fucks she’d ever had and that she hadn’t realised she’d needed. From there out you’d taken control and that was how she’d found herself here, her protests falling hopelessly on deaf ears as you’d taken her to task and got her into this position. And worse still she loved it, absolutely relishing the way you were just fucking her as your plaything, having complete control of her as you could cause a lot of problems if she didn’t play along. That was merely a sideshow now as frankly she didn’t want you to stop, even if she hated admitting that.

She’d given herself to you on a silver platter and you were loving every bite, getting a most primal go at your boss and you weren’t wasting a moment of it. Your fingers dug into her supple flesh, flexing your cock as your heart pumped hard, slamming your hips forward again and again to drive your manhood inside the prone idol. It shoved a deep, guttural cry of pain from her every time you slammed against her, her ass jiggling perfectly as you gave her every inch of yourself, stretching her out a little bit more than she could handle every time to make her twinge in pain. You just murmured with pleasure, smiling down as sweat prickled all over her, her head buried in the bedding.

You loved how taut her muscles were, fingers dug into the cloth as she braced herself, forehead pressed hard into it as she tried to absorb it. The strangely pleasurable sensations of anal sex were getting through to her now, something she’d rarely experienced in the past before she’d pulled the plug, but they were still accompanied by pain that electrified her body with every, faster, hungrier, more intense thrust into her. She was managing to relax herself somewhat however and that only made things better, giving a mumble of near pleasure that made you hard as rock, feeling your cock strain inside her as you heard it. Jennie immediately blushed, not that you could see it, chastising herself for enjoying it at all but worse letting you see that she was. She was adamant she hated this and to let herself tremble with pleasure from it, even for a moment, would only encourage you to fuck her harder.

You hardly needed encouragement though as your own pleasure drove to do just that, loving how you could just rock her hips back as you worked your own to plunge the full depth of yourself into her, thick cock just plunging into her overwhelmed, defeated asshole. Rocking her in unison with your rhythm helped up the pace whilst keeping your length in full use, the best of both worlds as to let your head strain her hole still, making it bulge before you buried yourself again. You tried that a little too vigorously on one stroke however and popped out of her, sliding up over her ass as she gave a gasp to match your own, the sensation unexpected. Jennie felt empty, out of sync and then utterly degraded as you took a moment to grab her ass and spread it wide, making her exhausted, loosened asshole gape wide open.

“Fuck, look at that,” you breathed, in both wonder and arousal, loving how she’d gone from an uptight, resisting attitude to now having her hole gaped completely. Jennie felt the blood rush to her face, angry and embarrassed as you held her open, giving a token squeeze to try and clench her asshole shut but even she felt the futility of it, her tired muscles barely managing it before it sagged wide again. You just laughed smuttily to yourself, loving having her like this as you grabbed your cock and aimed it again, pushing inside her with barely any resistance from her as she stretched out and let you plunge deeply into her ass again. On the plus side, it barely hurt now, ass warmed up and taking it even if she’d never wanted that.

You held her hips firmly and fucked hard, knowing she wouldn’t try and escape now, her will and resistance broken as you pumped your cock in and out of her ass as she hated herself for feeling a bit of enjoyment. Having made a fuss about it, she couldn’t now admit she was liking it or ask you not to stop, that would just be shame she couldn’t stand. Besides, she was pretty sure you knew with how wet her pussy was. You were well aware and it only spurred to keep fucking her hard and fast, rocking her body perfectly in rhythm with yours as if you two been screwing for years, cock plunging deep inside her, feeling her heat and the delectable sensations around every nerve ending on your cock. It was hot, but you wanted to see her work for it and with that you leaned back and pulled her as she gave a mumble of confusion.

“Come on, you’re gonna ride this cock,” you said, leaning back and pulling her on top of your hips, sliding deep inside her as she sat back on you a little awkwardly while you kicked your legs out under her to stretch on the bed. She mumbled and shifted around with difficulty, fumbling to get her feet out from under her and position her knees properly so she could ride as she was ordered to While your hands pinned her ass down on you so she couldn’t escape. Jennie shoved her hands down on top of your knees and steadied herself then with an unsure, testing movement rocked her hips and lifted up a little to slide your cock in and out of her ass, pressing her firm booty back down as you smiled in pleasure.

“Yeah that’s it,” you murmured, watching her lovely figure as she got started, holding her hips more commandingly than physically, hands just letting her know you are in control more than anything else. Feeling it out, Jennie rocked up and down carefully, just taking in the different penetration of your cock in her ass, the angle and aim changed, stimulations different as she rocked on you. Getting more confident of where you were and realizing she could still feel your bulging head as it tugged at her asshole, she started riding a bit harder and longer, working her sphincter up and down your cock as it clung tightly. You were pleased as she got into it more, breathing intently, focused on her task as she pushed up onto her knees and rested her hands on her own thighs to change the angle and let her push down into you much more effectively.

“Yeah that’s good,” you groaned, loving the suddenly more intent, stimulating push down of her onto your cock, her ass squeezing around you as she drove down and got full depth. She didn’t complain at the pain or anything now, having subsided and despite the general lack of lube she was finding it pretty easy to work herself up and down, her muscles having long since given up the fight, stretched and exhausted. It was then that she looked up into the room more, taking in things as she rode you and realized she could see herself pretty clearly in the mirror of the bathroom where you’d left the light on. She could see her slender, sweat-pricked body as she rocked up and down, her face streaked with dark tears from her eye make-up, firm breasts with hard nipples topping them above her toned abs as she worked on your cock.

Jennie hated seeing it, seeing herself working to pleasure and to please you, thighs tight as she pumped her ass up and down on your cock, to let you enjoy anal sex with her. She couldn’t tear her gaze away instantly and just watched herself riding it, shoving herself down harder, faster, more intently as if to punish herself as she stared into her own eyes; she hated doing this even if it didn’t hurt now, hated it even more that she was kind of enjoying it now and wasn’t only doing it for you now, she knew she was doing it for her and that stung her even worse. Her face flushed as her cheeks burned with her embarrassment and anger at herself, spurring her however to thrust down hard and faster into you as she felt your fingers at her hips and heard a grunt of pleasure.

“Mm fuck, just like that,” you growled, loving her energy as she worked at you, finally averting her eyes from her gaze and looking down at the bed, at her fingers as they strained on her thighs to brace herself and allow her to work harder at your cock. Regardless of the fact she hated what she was doing and how she’d got herself into this position, she couldn’t deny it felt good; her nipples were tight and her clit was throbbing in need, pussy still dripping wet and just waiting for stimulation. She couldn’t resist and pulled her hand up to her crotch, letting her fingertips play over her mound for a moment before she pushed it confidently down over her lips and let her middle digit drive straight down over exactly where it needed to be.

Her shudder and groan was like heaven to you, watching Jennie Kim shake in pleasure at the mere touch of her clit as she rode your cock, taking in her slender back and gorgeous ass as her strong, toned thighs pushed her up and down to work you into her booty. You loved the sight of your cock disappearing into her ass, her tight ring hugging it before it disappeared from view as she sat down on you every time. Your hands merely followed and caressed her now as she got into it, her fingers getting moving as her rhythm picked up again, riding you just as hard as her digits started to circle her clit. Jennie grunted in pleasure, her asshole twitching and grabbing at you to slow her just a little bit as she just instinctively got into her, seeming to know exactly what she was doing and how to co-ordinate herself as her fingers started to dance.

You just laid back to enjoy as the idol got into it, seeing her glance up to herself in the mirror as she did; Jennie took herself in, knelt over hip and reciprocating her hips as she drove your thick cock into her ass, feeling your bulging head delving deep inside her as her fingers worked fairly furiously at her clit, unable to help herself and chasing the pleasure it brought. Her ass was squeezing and gripping at you like she hadn’t before as she throbbed and mumbled in pleasure, her breathing harder, faster, more insistent as the pleasure flooded through her quickly. She hadn’t realized how hot and horny she was, not directly at least, somewhat unsure, almost hoping that her dripping pussy didn’t mean she was loving getting fucked in the ass as much as she feared she was. Touching her clit had answered that question in a single stroke and only spurred her to chase more of it, looking at herself in the mirror as she rubbed intently and thumped her body down into you.

“Fuck that’s it, don’t stop,” you smiled, loving how the famous idol was just losing herself to it and giving you all her energy now. She just moaned a non-committal response as she practically ignored your thick, hard erection buried in her ass as she bounced up and down and rubbed furiously at her pussy. Her fingers wasted no time with anything but her clit, circling around it and strumming across it, working in the most direct way she knew, the way she got herself off when she didn’t have time for sex with her fiancé and just wanted release. Your hands pulled at her hips and laid token spanks on her ass as she went at it, just enthralled at her change to going for it and forgetting her protests as she rode hard and frigged herself for all she was worth.

Hard breaths and the sound of her booty driving against your cock was all that broke the silence of the motel room for a minute as she wound herself up, orgasm not taking long to achieve in the heat of it all. She stole a last glance at herself and scolded herself for being such a whore, getting fucked in the ass and rubbing her clit to it but soon looked away and focused on what she was doing. With a few more seconds of stimulation that seemed to stretch on way longer, she gave a shake, tensing up as she held back her climax as it rushed up on her, sharp and intense, much like the fuck she was taking and she gave several hard, short thrusts to bury your cock as deep in her ass as she could while her finger went mad on her delicate clit.

She wailed loudly as she hit her peak, suddenly erupting as she shook and collapsed as the strength in her legs failed, burying your cock deep as she shuddered violently, her hips bucking and shoving forwards, ass squeezing intently at your cock to make you throb as she quaked. Her fingers never stopped throughout, just cranking every last drop of her climax as her eyes squeezed shut and her breath caught in her throat, her orgasm just hitting her so much harder than she expected and making her grind down into the pleasure of it with everything she had. You just held her hips as she rocked on you, immensely turned on to see her come with your cock in her ass like this when she’d protested over it initially.

“Fuck…” she mumbled, a small admission to how incredible it’d felt to reach her peak as it ended, her fingers stopping on her clit even as she wished she could continue, too delicate in the wake of it as she rocked her hips and squeezed her ass a little before trying to keep riding your cock. Her legs were weak, shaky, unable to commit strength as she tried to push up and only achieved weak, uncoordinated motions, struggling to catch her breath and get back to it like she knew you wanted. All you wanted was for her to stimulate your cock hard and fast like she had been; watching her ride then come furiously all over was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen and your cock still rock hard and ready to pump her to the finish now.

With a sharp push you lifted yourself off the bed and rolled her over, Jennie giving a cry of surprise as you surged beneath her and flipped her onto her front, pinning her down on the bed and burying your cock deeper than it had ever been. She flinched and blurted out an expression of pain as you pinned her down, taking complete control of her again, dominating her tired form as you shoved your hands down on her shoulders to shove her into the bedding. Wasting no time, you started to pump your hips and slam down into her with intent and purpose, your cock throbbing hard in pre-orgasmic bliss thanks to her erotic ride moments before.

You held her down, ignoring her muffled complaints as you slammed into her ass harder than she’d ever experienced and took every bit of pleasure her clenching, overwhelmed asshole had to offer as your cock slid in and out of her in a blur. Strokes were short and sharp, pounding down into her with just a couple of inches of your manhood as you chased your pleasure now, wanting to completely overwhelm and exhaust her in the process. You had no problem doing just that as the gasping idol couldn’t keep up, slumped on the bed underneath with her fingers dug into the bed at her sides as you fucked her now, just being your submissive fuckdoll in your final seconds of smashing your cock into her gorgeous body.

Jennie just whined in pain and pleasure as you hammered down into her, your cock rock hard, the stiffest she’d felt it as you pounded her hard and slapped your hips into her ass with an intensity she’d not felt in years. No guy had fucked her so hard or with such abandon in so long that it was almost like a new experience again and she could only cling to the bed and groan, grunt and gasp her way to your completion. Your cock strained harder, flexing in a familiar way that told you the end was close as you thumped against her, spurring you to find a final gear that meant you slammed your cock into her clenching, tired ass as hard and fast as you could, somehow stepping up from your already intense pace that that was making her whine and pushed a strained, struggled noise from her.

You absolutely pounded on her, hips slapping into her ass as you tried to bury her into the mattress for a few seconds before she felt a characteristic pulse and knew it was over -- only to be shocked and thrown for a loop as you suddenly yanked out of her and jumped up with energy she’d never had expected. Jennie gasped and whimpered desperately, hungrily for your cock in her ass, squeezing and clenching at nothing as you suddenly moved over her, completely lost as you withdrew and looking up to see where you were. It only gave you the perfect position to grab her head, fingers twisting into her hair to yank her purposefully to you and straight onto your cock, forcing it deep into her throat before she could react, only time left to choke and gag.

It was the first time she had ever done ass to mouth and she heaved, gagging deeply in shock and thought of it, tasting herself as you shoved your thick cock as deep into her throat as you could manage. With her overwhelmed by it all she couldn’t get a handle on it and it left her vulnerable to your thrusts which you took advantage of with abandon, holding her head tightly and thrusting your cock hard into her throat, loving how she struggled and gagged. The tightening around your cock was simply heaven, a cherry on top after plundering her tight asshole, not that it was as tight after your efforts and now you just wanted your finish. Pumping hard into her mouth as she gagged, choked and coughed, body heaving as she grimaced at her first ass-to-mouth, absolutely hating that you’d made her do it while your cock throbbed on her tongue.

Jennie had no chance to complain however as you gave her no opportunity, giving a final shove deep into her throat so her nose pressed into you and then yanking back out of her sharply. She coughed on the withdraw and was just drawing her breath as you jerked your cock ferociously, on the brink and taking just a couple of seconds to stimulate your cock on the brink as you aimed it at her face. You yanked her head into place and held her with her hair as she gave a yelp of pain, barely registering what you were doing in time to squeeze her eyes shut for your first hot, thick spurt to hit her across the nose. You let out a huge groan of pleasure, of release and ecstasy as you jerked your hard cock to explode repeatedly over her pretty face, Jennie wincing and growling in distaste as your viscous eruptions burst over her to hit her forehead, cheeks, eyes and lips as you emptied your balls powerfully onto her.

“Fuuuck” you breathed, heart pounding and your legs shaking as you worked the last of your load out and wiped it over her puffy, bee stung lips to her displeasure, giving a final clench and then sagging back on your knees, releasing her so her head dropped. She caught herself before she hit the bed and made a mess, pulling her head up and opening one eye, all she could manage, as you turned and sat back onto the bed. You breathed hard and let the relief and pleasure hit, tingling through you as the gorgeous idol pushed up to sit on the side of the bed as she grabbed for some tissues on the side table. Jennie fumbled with a handful and shoved them to her face, soaking up your load as it started to run down her face and mix with her ruined make-up, wiping it out of her eye then off her lips.

“Fuck that was good,” you murmured, sagging back onto the bed.

“Hope you got what you wanted,” she mumbled, not wanting to acknowledge quite how much she’d enjoyed it.

“Not entirely,” you replied, making her to look at you indignantly.

“Not entirely?” she questioned, angry in that moment and figuring surely you’d had your fill of her.

“No, we’ll fuck again in the morning. Go get cleaned up, we need some sleep,” you said with a cheeky wink, slumping back onto the bed as she glared at you, unnoticed, before standing up and stalking awkwardly to the bathroom to wash her face. A splash with cold water made her feel fresher, relieving her sweaty, come-splattered face though her ass ached like she’d never felt before, figuring it was how it felt to get properly fucked in the ass. By the time she walked back into the bedroom you were already under the sheets and dozing off, leaving Jennie little choice but to slide in next to you. She was rewarded with a cuddle, being drawn under your arm as she got in before falling asleep far easier than she expected.

—

The night flew by in relaxed, sated sleep for both of you, Jennie awakening and wondering initially where she was, not recognizing the room entirely. It was similarly decorated but not the same as her own room and that just took her a second to remember exactly where she was and how she’d got there. She was also reminded as she moved and immediately felt a twinge from her ass, sphincter giving her a wakeup call to bring back all the memories from exactly what she’d done the night before, her pussy aching as well from how hard you’d pounded her. It was a while since she’d woken up like this, feeling the after effects of an intense fucking the night before and it was a sensation she missed, wishing she could feel it more often as you stirred beside her and woke up, rolling over to her.

“Good morning, Jennie,” you said with a smile.

“Morning,” she replied a little unsure of herself in that moment, “and that’s boss to you,” she added, wanting to take control again.

“Not yet it isn’t,” you answered, immediately quashing her intention to take charge somewhat as you rolled to her and slid your hand over her hip, up her tummy to squeeze her breast as she gasped. You were exactly the same with her as you’d been the night before, interested in only one thing from her and she responded, shivering a little as she secretly had to admit to herself that she loved how you treated her. You weren’t wasting any time and only wanted to fuck her, which was flattering in its own way even if she shouldn’t have liked it.

“Already hard,” she murmured with a smile as she felt you push your erection against her, nestling it in her ass as your hand squeezed her chest, your teeth biting down into her shoulder as she shivered and gave in to how turned on her was making her, pussy already wet and waiting for you.

“Of course, got to enjoy every minute of this,” you replied quietly, hand pushing over her toned tummy to tease at her near-smooth labia.

“Before I become your boss again,” she breathed, somehow wanting to remind you of the fact that she was in charge of you usually and that this was a one-off opportunity you’d cultivated for yourself.

“You’ll be the boss again when I let you,” you growled playfully, making her gasp as your hand connected with her ass for a firm, meaningful slap that tingled her and only turned her on more.

“So boss me around,” she breathed, quietly, almost not letting the whisper escape her mouth, not wanting to let you hear it. She knew you had though as you swiftly reached up and grabbed her throat, giving a squeeze that made her breath catch momentarily before you released her, Jennie shuddering hard as a tingle raced through her body, your hands at her hips now as you threw the covers off and rolled her back over towards you. You grabbed her wrist and directed her hand onto your thick, throbbing cock which she immediately gripped and started stroking, being your obedient little fucktoy without hesitation as grabbed her tits again hard to make her wince before you lay back.

“Ride,” you commanded, already urging her as she started to move. The idol pushed up from the bed to immediately obey, getting her knees under her and throwing her leg over to mount you and get in position, pressing her delightfully hot pussy down into your throbbing cock. You let her do her thing as she reached down for your cock and held it up as she rocked her pelvis forward in readiness. Jennie slowly let herself down and teased the tip of your cock over herself, spreading her abundant juices around it before she let herself sink down steadily to ease her inside and let your size spread and stretch her aching pussy.

You bulged out her velvet walls as she sank down, giving a groan as she descended and felt the blissful sensation of your cock inside her once more -- she couldn’t deny she liked it. Jennie let herself push down to take your cock all the way in with a single stroke, pushing herself the last couple of inches to make her vagina open up fully, wanting to feel every bit of it, flexing hard inside her as you felt her love tunnel envelope before clamping down, loving the feel of how her pussy gripped your cock. Her murmurs of pleasure only turned you on more and you watched as she started to ride, slowly lifting up then sinking down again, taking it fully as she pulled right up until it almost popped out of her before driving into you to grind her clit against you, eyes closing in pleasure as she got into her steady rhythm.

“Faster, come on, ride it,” you commanded, slapping the side of her ass to spur her on, breaking her concentration for a moment and making her motions stutter before she composed herself and resumed harder and faster. She started pumping her hips down into you with an intensity and pace that you relished, stimulating your cock perfectly for a morning fuck as her gorgeous, snug pussy fit around you perfectly. Jennie leaned down onto your shoulders, her eyes shut with a look of concentration on her face as she worked her hips, her abs tightening and tensing as she rolled her hips and thrust down to take every inch of your cock inside her with quicker strokes. She was lost to the pleasure of it all as she rode it firmly, right up until her phone started ringing and shattered her focus. You both ignored it initially, then it rang again, causing Jennie to lean over and see who it was.

“It’s my producer,” she said, looking back down at you underneath her, her pace slowing for a moment as your hands held her hips.

“So?” you replied.

“It’s probably important, he never usually calls me in the morning,” she said.

“So answer it,” you replied with a smile.

“What? Like this?” she said, looking back down at you with wide eyes.

“Sure, why not?” you teased, when it was obvious why not.

“I’ve never answered the phone in the middle of sex before,” she said as it stopped ringing again, only to start ringing again almost immediately.

“Seems like he really wants you,” you said, working your hips to pump up to meet Jennie as she continued to fuck, riding you on autopilot.

“You gonna stop so I can answer this?” she asked.

“Not on your life,” you said, gripping her hips tightly and pulling her down harder, making it clear she was going to fuck you till it was done right now.

“...Fuck,” she said, holding the phone up and knowing she was going to have to answer it.

“It’s a video call,” she said, only making you laugh somewhat as she swept her hair back and tried to make herself look vaguely presentable.

“Don’t do anything, this is serious,” she chastised you, squeezing her pussy and riding in short strokes to minimize her movements as she took a deep breath and answered the phone.

“Good morning,” she said clearly, her practiced, PR friendly voice on point.

“Good morning, Jennie,” said her producer, unseen by you as Jennie rode you with her phone turned the other way, doing her best not to make her movements visible on the call.

“What’s going on?” she questioned, wanting to cut straight to the point and keep this quick.

“Just wanted a quick check in, I heard there were problems on set yesterday, not the smooth kind of process we’re looking for,” he said to her.

“Yeah there were some disagreements,” she replied tersely, remembering how it had upset her...and led her to make the mistake that brought her onto her drivers cock.

“Well that’s not great, Jen,” he said, giving her a look of somewhat disappointment, “we really need to keep things going well, is there anything up?” he added.

“No no, it’s just a blip,” she replied quickly, stifling a mumble of pleasure and shivering a little as she pushed up to slow her riding, needing to stop before she gave herself away. She’d never done this, not to anybody, and to do it in front of her producers was scary but exhilarating. She knew she had to remain composed and not give away what she was doing, not that there was anything wrong with it per se but she simply couldn’t afford to let anybody else know she was stepping out on her fiancé.

“Are you alright, Jen? You seem flushed,” her producer asked, seeing her skin tone on the camera even with the half light of the motel room she was in.

“Yeah yeah I’m fine,” she said. At that moment you grabbed hold of her hips and shoved yourself upward to make her quake, barely suppressing a grunt as the stab of pleasure passed through her before you began to pound. You arched your body up, You arched your body up, heels dug into the mattress as you energized yourself, and slammed your hips up into hers, almost hanging from her hips, leaving her nowhere to go. Jennie felt the tingle and buzz go through her as she was fucked hard and faster, losing her composure and shuddering, fumbling the phone and struggling to hold onto it.

“You don’t look like it, want me to send someone over to check you out?” he offered, meaning some sort of medic that they had on the team.

“No no, it’s just a bad connection,” she said, carefully but jerkily getting her thumb over the camera to block it out as she tried to slowly let out a breath and not focus on the sensations of your cock slamming into her.

“The camera’s gone off, are you there?” he replied, giving her the perfect out as she quickly pretended the signal had dropped.

“Hello? Are you still there?” she asked, waiting a few seconds as he tried to get her to answer, trying to add to it with a couple of hammed-up crackling sounds before she hit the button the hang up and threw her phone aside.

“Fuck you,” she breathed with a small laugh as she sank back down into you, shoving her hands back into your shoulders as your pulled up around the small of her back, pulling her down deeply into you as she focused all her concentration on your cock, started fucking it hard again. Her body rocked perfectly to slide you in and out of her juicy snatch, squeezing and clenching as she did, loving the way your cock pulsed inside her as you worked to pump your hips up into her and make her take every possible inch. Her phone rang again but she ignored it, no intention of answering it again as she hoped it hadn’t in any way been possible to tell what she was really doing. It was then that she looked at the clock and began, realizing how short we had on time and how if we didn’t finish this quickly, we’d be late for the set.

“Shit, we’ve got to get going,” she exclaimed, looking from the clock back at you.

“We’re not done yet,” you said. Not a protest, a simple statement that reminded her she wasn’t going anywhere until we were done fucking.

“But we’ll be late. Do you want someone to find out about this, really?” she asked, making a good point that suggested blowing this would likely not work out well for both of you.

“No, I don’t,” you said.

“Then let’s go,” she replied.

“We’re not done. How about a shower? We’ll finish up in there as we get ready,” you said, seeming so cool and calm, full of useful and straight forward plans in that moment. Jennie looked back to the clock, then at you.

“Deal, come on,” she said, hopping off you as you released her hips and heading straight for the bathroom. You followed and enjoyed watching her firm ass jiggle as she dashed ahead of you and turned the shower on. The hot water cascaded down and she slipped into it, sighing in pleasure as the spray hit her feminine curves before you followed her in, hands sliding round her and squeezing at her breasts, pushing down her sides as she shoved back into your erection, ready for it to be inside her again. She wanted to enjoy the fuck but time was against it and she cared more about getting busted.

“Put it in,” she whispered, leaning against the wall and shoving her ass back in the most deliberate invitation you’d ever seen. And it was irresistible.

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” you smiled as you grabbed your cock and stepped in to her, easily sliding to her pussy between her spread legs, arched back pushing it out ready for you to effortlessly slip into. Just a light push and you inside her, both groaning again as her velvet tunnel glided over the thick contours of your rock hard cock, your hands going to her hips to take a tight grip as you buried yourself inside her and then started to thrust. You worked your cock in and out of her, resuming the pace we’d had on the bed as we both got into it, Jennie shifting a bit and sinking lower, pushing her feet as wide as the shower tray would let her as you widened your stance to give yourself maximum stability.

“Come on fuck me, fuck me!” she said, louder than she intended to as she invited you to get on with it. You ignored her somewhat taking charge and simply dug your fingers into her flesh as you started to thrust, immediately shoving her forwards, seeing her muscles tighten as she braced herself against the tiles and pushed back against yours as you slammed your hips forward. We both groaned, Jennie harder than you as you started to fuck her hard and fast, pounding her with one intent now and that was completion and pleasure.

Your fingers were white with the pressure as you held her slippery body, hot water crashing down over us as you fucked her with hard, fast strokes. Your motions were short and intense, body slapping noisily against her booty as she jiggled in front of you, the idol just bracing herself and shoving back into you as the stimulation of being fucked from behind got to us both. It was so much more intense, hitting more nerve endings and doing the business for both of us when we’d already comprehensively warmed up with her riding on the bed. Your cock shoved deeply into her pussy, across the front wall of her vagina and her G-spot in a perfect manner, sending those deep, soulful tingles through her that she knew was a one way ticket.

Your hand slid up into her long, dark hair and grabbed a handful, yanking back to make her gasp gutturally, feeling a rush go through her, a tingle then quakes of pre-orgasmic tension, just letting it all hit her as you got her to the finish. You weren’t far off yourself, your cock tingling and throbbing with every stroke of it into her gorgeous body, holding yourself back and focusing on getting her to the orgasm that was obviously on the brink. You were relieved when, after a few more seconds of thrusting, she shuddered violently and gasped hard, accelerating breaths before letting out a wail of pleasure as she came.

The orgasm hit her fast and she almost slipped, her foot losing grip on the wet floor of the shower as she trembled in pleasure, ecstasy washing over her as she shook and tingled all over, goosepimples spreading across her gorgeous body despite the hot spray of the shower cascading down over her. The clamping down of her pussy around your cock and the mental box checked meant your own climax followed swiftly on with a buck of your cock as you swelled rock hard. Jennie was treated to a few hard thrusts to amplify her own climax before she moaned in satisfaction as you jumped and unloaded inside of her, growling your pleasure in her ear as you shoved her forwards against the tiles and buried yourself deeply to empty every drop of your cum inside her.

She loved that you’d come inside her again, especially right before she went to work as she knew it’d be a naughty secret to feel your creampie leak out of her during the day. You slid back out of her, and she stood up, turning into your arms and meeting you for a deep, somewhat intimate kiss that felt so much more than what had come before.

And then it was over. You stepped back and got out of the shower, grabbing a towel and getting ready, leaving her to do the same. Jennie watched you leave then took charge of herself, knowing this incident was over and gave herself a quick wash down in the shower before following you out.

The next half an hour or so was hurried preparation to leave, neither one of us speaking as she got ready, taking much longer than you as she quickly dried and dressed, trying to dry her hair out and touch up a bit of make-up before we had to get a move on, time running out as she knew we had to get to set. She was rather embarrassed now, feeling awkward like she might after a one night stand, but also felt the most sexually satisfaction she had in months. It was a double edged sword she supposed.

With her dignity and attitude completely gone, our relationship having done a complete 180 in the last 12 hours or so, she headed down to the car with you and slid into the passenger seat as she usually did to let you drive her to work. She was the boss again now, but she didn’t feel like it. You made good time, stepping on it a bit to get her on set in time so nothing looked amiss apart from the slightly bedraggled way she turned up on set, not that it mattered as she went straight into make-up to get tidied up for the days shooting.

The day went smoothly on set as she kept her head down and quietly got on with it, working well with the director to contrast with the previous days conflict, being cheerful and productive in a way that got everything done on time with no snags. Out of her earshot, the director flippantly commented to that perhaps she got fucked properly the previous night; he had no idea how right he was. Jennie just felt calm and relaxed, though she blushed when she saw her driver odd times during the day, thinking back to everything that had happened between us. You’d completely taken advantage of the situation she’d inadvertently created and she’d loved it, just relishing how you’d treated her as she turned it over and over in her mind.

And she wanted it again.

There was no denying it, she needed it, lusted for it and was absolutely sure you would happily deliver. With that she steeled her mind to get it and thought about what she would do for you when her day in front of the camera was over. The rest of the shots went easily, no problems at all when she was just on autopilot and let herself be ordered around, something of a hangover of the night before which she’d relished. Due to the efficiency they managed, they were actually finished around an hour early, with the director wrapping for the day and telling them they could all go and have a break as the next shots relied on brighter weather and the encroaching darkness was no use to them. Jennie gave her goodbyes and then headed for the wardrobe trailer to make a change.

You were waiting by the car as Jennie approached you, her long coat hiding her body as she smiled at you...then got into the back seat. You were curious as she hadn’t done that since our first week together, hopping in behind the wheel and starting the engine as you looked back at her in the mirror. She stared at you as she took her coat off to reveal a short, tight dress that hugged her curves and barely made it onto her thighs, tits pushed up so they almost spilled out of it. Throwing her coat aside she spread her legs and lifted them a little so you got a glance up her skirt, seeing the see through panties that completely showed her off, her near-bald pussy that was all yours. You took your time checking her out, knowing she was there for you to look at as you took her in, along with her naughty smile.

“You’re checking me out again,” she murmured.

“Yeah, I am,” you replied, pulling away and managing to drive smoothly even as you stared at her in the mirror.

“Good,” she smiled, flicking her tongue. You accelerated away down the road, heading back for our motel once again, less than a whole day since everything had happened between us.

“I want you to fuck me hard again tonight,” she said quietly, meaningfully, the weight of her words clear. She wanted a repeat performance and probably plenty more, knowing you wouldn’t talk and as long as she was covert, she could have her cake and eat it.

“No problem, boss,” you said with a smile and flick of your eyebrows, playing to the fact she technically was, but it was clear she was giving you control out of hours now.

“Good, so whenever there’s a good place to pull over, you know,” she said, reclining back into the seat, relaxing as she told you clearly she wanted an exact rerun of the day before.

“Absolutely,” you replied, smiling to yourself as you focused on the road and pressed the throttle, cock already hardening. After all, you weren’t going to disappoint your boss.

[fandomizedtrash]

Worthy of an Emperor

Summary: When abundantly worshipped, the Gods would send one of their own to the leaders of Rome as a thank you and reward for their loyalty. As a daughter of Jupiter, you would have never assumed that one day, your peaceful life would be altered forever, as your father sees you as the perfect gift, and bride-to-be for a certain Roman emperor.  (Emperor Geta x daughter of Jupiter!reader)

warnings: Smut, 18+, dubcon, (if you squint), Historical inaccuracies, mythological inaccuracies (come on y'all, who saw this movie for the history), arranged marriage. 

Word count: 2.2k

REQUESTS OPEN

I have not written a fanfic in a very VERY long time so I might be a little rusty. Nonetheless, enjoy!

As a demi-god, your life was more lavish than most young women. Your mother, the daughter of a senator, was seduced by the God many years ago resulting in your conception. And since your birth, a life at court and amongst the most powerful families and men in Rome has been your world. 

Ever since you came of age, nearly every man you passed gazed in your direction. Enchanted by your divinity. Not that you paid it much mind, you were preoccupied with texts, maps, scrolls, and the animals that surrounded the palace. Whatever path your future held was not one that worried you or one you particularly thought about. As long as you had your freedom, what was there to stress about? 

Which is why when your father Jupiter, king of the Gods told you that you were to marry one of the twin Emperors of Rome, you almost laughed in his face. 

“Tell me you are joking?” It was a warm spring day, Summer just on the horizon, while crouching down, you tending to your plants and flowers in the palace garden, your father shot down from the heaven’s in a bolt of lightning startling you. 

“I am afraid I am not. Although I cannot imagine why such news would upset you. Being the bride to one of the most powerful men in all of the Empire.” Your father explained, lecturing you as if you were a child.

“You don’t know Emperor Geta the way I do.” You replied grimly, focusing again at the flora in front of you.

Your contact with the infamous red haired tyrant and his brother has been limited. The few times you were in his vicinity were not particularly found moments. Most of which included the terrible Gladiator tournaments. Spectacles of senseless violence in your opinion. The Emperors would shout and scream and whatever poor souls were sent to fight to the death. The knowledge that he took enjoyment from such brutality gave you everything you needed to know about him. 

What you didn’t know however, was that during these games, the Emperor’s eyes would often wander to search for you in the crowd. It was not a particularly difficult task. You quite literally shined out amongst the mortal spectators, a sight more pleasing than the gory entertainment provided.

During one particular game, as your eyes scanned the box of senators and generals, attempting to distract yourself from the bloody battles below, your vision locked with him. He, like all men who were fortunate enough to gaze upon you, became mesmerized. Your soft skin, and graceful body made Geta dig his nails in the arms of his regal chair at his desire to have you. 

“The Emperor has built me a new temple and has been consistently leaving offerings, being my most faithly worshiper, and in return I have decided to gift him the best thing a God can offer a mortal.”

At this, you shot up from your crouched position. “I am not a present to be offered.” You declared. “I don’t care if he built you a million temples, I would never marry such a man.” Anyone would be crazy to challenge a proclamation from a God, much less the king of them all. But you weren’t just anyone. Divine blood ran through your veins, and your fate would not be bound to a man as sadistic as him. 

“You forget that you don’t have a say in this matter. I can think of worse lives than one as the empress of Rome.” 

“Please.” Your anger had turned to desperation. “I am sure there are other ways to bless and reward Emperor Geta.” 

Your father slowly started walking towards you as he spoke. “I have already promised the Emperor that you are to be his. And I am not one to turn back on an oath.” 

You have never experienced such anger. Promising such a thing before even consulting with you. But a promise from God was as good as done. 

“You need not fret about Geta. He wouldn’t dare hurt a daughter of Jupiter.” You scoffed. Of course your safety was in good hands, but that meant nothing for your happiness. 

“I do hope your sentiment changes. I heard that the wedding is to be the grandest Rome has ever seen.” Another woman would have been bouncing up and down from glee. What you would give to trade places with her. 

“You are to be formally presented to the Emperor tonight. Do make a good impression.” It was the last words your father spoke before a flash of lightning whisked him away to the heavens, leaving you and your racing thoughts alone. 

***

You were escorted by your mother to the main hall where your husband-to-be stood there waiting. Upon hearing the news of your engagement, one might have thought it would be her to marry the emperor. 

“To think that my own girl will soon be the empress of Rome.” She pressed her hand to her heart at the sentiment. “Gods know you were meant for such a life.” 

Your heart was pounding as you made your way to the thrones. Eyes fighting back tears as your destiny awaits you. 

“Emperors.” Your mother began, “may I present my daughter, y/n.” She practically shoved you in front of her, placing you front and center before the twin tyrants. 

“Imperators.” You bowed your head softly at a feeble attempt to humble yourself. 

Geta immediately shot up from his seat to approach you. Eager to get his hands on his eventual wife. 

Taking several paces forward, you and the emperor’s face stood mere inches away from yours as his eyes scanned your face and body, relishing the sight in front of him. 

“Oh yes, she will do quite nicely.” He uttered, sending a nervous chill up your spine. “Your father spoke far too little of how beautiful you are. But there are not enough offerings in the world to thank Jupiter for such a bride. I certainly look forward to having you by my side y/n.” His brown eyes left one more piercing gaze into yours before turning away with the rest of his advisors and senators. 

You let your eyes close as you took a deep breath trying to calm your nerves. 

He wouldn’t dare hurt me. You reminded yourself. You are a daughter of Jupiter, you are part God, there is no future that awaits you that you cannot handle.

***

Everything happened so fast. Within two days, your once peaceful life had turned to non stop preparations for the upcoming nuptials. 

Even you had to admit, the dress given to you was lovely. Chosen by Geta himself, the handmaiden proclaimed as she adorned you in luxurious fabrics and gold. 

You hardly recognized your reflection staring back at you in the mirror. Despite you heritage, you never felt particularly better or more deserving than any other young Roman women. Or your life would be anything too out of the ordinary for a high born.

Looking back now, what a fool you have been. Your whole life, you have been a pawn in-waiting for the fastest man who had the resources to claim a divine bride. And who other than one of the emperors himself. 

The next thing you knew, vows were spoken, music was playing, and every person around you was smiling and laughing, drunk off the finest wines in the Empire. 

“You have hardly touched your food empress.” Geta spoke, drawing attention to the final word of his sentence. 

“I am not a hungry imperator.” You responded, voice sounding as neutral as possible. 

“We are married now, love. Geta will suffice.” 

Unexpectedly. He placed his ringed hand on top of yours. “I do hope that your mother prepared you well for what to expect as a new wife.”

You shuddered as your muscles clenched. Of course you knew, your mother, along with the other ladies at court well explained to you what happens on a wedding night. But with the unexpectedness of it all and the hectic planning, the thought barely crossed your mind. 

Turning to face him finally, you managed to croak out a response. “I am aware.”  

“Splendid.” Geta squeezed your hand fervently. “I hope you know how lucky I am to have you as a bride.” 

“Why me?” You blurted out. It was impossible to keep the question inside of you. “You could have had anyone. Someone to strengthen the growth of the Empire. Just because of my blood does not mean I will serve any use to you or Rome.” Your new husband smirked arrogantly. 

“Our soldiers and generals are stronger than you think. I didn’t marry you for the sake of the Empire. We are already unstoppable. The second I laid my eyes on you in the Colosseum I knew I had to have you. Why do you think I built that damn temple in the first place? For fun?” Your breath got caught in your throat. 

“Caracalla is throwing a fit at the fact that I get to have a divine bride.” He laughed, clearly amused with himself. 

“To think that you are now all mine.” Before you knew it, he smashed his warm lips onto yours in a feaverent kiss.  

“Enjoy the festivities my love.” He broke off the contact suddenly leaving you gasping in shock before turning to you one last time. “I promise what awaits you tonight will be even better.” 

***

It was a warm night, but that did nothing to stop your chills. The party was still in full swing in the halls of the palace, but Geta was growing impatient to have you all to himself, alone. 

You looked out the window and onto the streets. What you would give to be just an ordinary girl, but ordinary was never meant for you. 

“Come here my love.” Geta grabbed your hand and made you face towards him. Like before, he pulled you in for another kiss, this one deeper, more intense, more needy. 

As the kiss continued, Geta started to slowly strip away your clothes. His hands tugged at the ropes holding up your gown and it fell to your feet, leaving you completely exposed.

Once naked, he placed his hand on the back of your neck, lightly squeezing it. “All mine.” His gaze continued to relish the sight of you.  

“Please.” You began. What you were pleading for, you didn’t know, but from what you have seen of the emperor, it was anyone’s guess what he was capable of. 

“Don’t worry, empress, I will be gentle.” guiding you towards the bed, you laid down on the soft mattress, eyes shut so tight you felt they might never open. Perhaps you would be able to find some pleasure in this. From the few whispers you were able to snatch, the ladies of the palace spoke of great satisfaction and delight of their intimate moments with lovers and husbands. While the conditions are not to your liking, maybe there is something to be enjoyed. 

At the foot of the bed, you could hear Geta’s heavy fabrics drop to the ground. A second later, he started climbing on top of you. 

“There is no need to worry.” He whispered in your ear. “You are half god after all, I have every intention of treating you as such.” 

His hands made their way down as his thumb started rubbing your clit gently. 

A moan escaped your lips at the sensation. For the first time this night, your body started to relax, taking in the pleasurable sensation as your new husband had his way with you. 

He soon stopped and his fingers traveled lower, towards your entrance as he slid a finger in and out tortuously. 

“Wet already are we?” His question needed no response. Geta was clearly amused at his once reluctant bride now softly moaning right under him. 

Once you finally felt adjusted, he slid a second finger in without warning, stretching you out even more as his pace continued while sounds of pleasure left your mouth. It felt like an eternity when he finally stopped.

“I’ve waited long enough to have you, I believe my patience has finally run out."

You dared to open your eyes and swallowed at the sight of his erect manhood, not knowing if your body was capable of consuming such a thing. 

Before you had any time to prepare yourself, Geta already started making his way inside of you. 

In one excruciatingly slow motion, the flaming haired emperor stretched you out to the limit as you arched your back. 

Your eyes clenched shut again, trying to adjust to his size. His thrusts were slow, but the pain slowly faded away, replaced by a building pressuring in your sensitive area. 

The thrusts started to pick up pace as you let out another groan. Soon, you felt his fingers touch your chin and lift it upwards.

“Look at me y/n.” He pleaded.

Your eyelids softened, but you did not fully open them, still unwilling to look at Geta in the eyes. 

“Please.” His voice now desperate. Gone was the sadistic emperor you once knew. 

At that, you finally opened your eyes and stared into his dark orbs. His movements became more wild, and the building pressure inside of you reached its climax as you released a sob of relief. 

Geta followed soon after, collapsing on top of you as warm fluids filled your insides. 

You painted, trying to come down from the incredible high you just experienced. 

“I know you don’t love me.” Your husband said, voice a bit dry upon finishing the consummation. “But maybe one day you will.”

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter ii

✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, fighting, confrontation, tornado of emotions, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, public shaming (both direct and indirect), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of abandonment issues, mentions of therapy, attempts to self-regulate but reader is pissed, mentions of self-blame though oc knows its not entirely her fault, mentions of defamation charges, JK is just 🤬 while KTH is 😇

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: Woah okay....so had I fun writing this, even though it took me a hella long time to decide whether to continue the story as a series or not 🫣 Anyway I altered the summary slightly from chapter one (and updated for consistency purposes), but it doesn't change my overall plans! As you read this chapter, I hope you will be able to see my vision (I'm nervous af! haha)! Enjoy 🥰 (edited but pls forgive me for any oversights...my typos are ridiculous)

series masterlist | next >>

You’re seated in a wide sofa chair, surrounded by four blank walls, and the gentle sound of water tricking from a faux rock waterfall. Every element of the space is carefully integrated as a means to calm you. Yet it doesn't calm you in the slightest. Your hands are clammy. Muscles tense with the adrenaline spiking through your veins. It doesn’t help that you’ve been running on nothing but black coffee all week either, refusing to eat until the first promo shoot with your company’s new endorser was launched.

A natural in front of the camera, Kim Taehyung was able to speed the process up, yet it didn’t stop the massive dark circles from forming under your eyes. This morning, he'd told you they were unnoticeable but you've seen how you look in the mirror, and they're anything but unnoticeable. Still, you find his gesture to soothe sweet. Thankfully, your new partnership has been smooth sailing which is quite a blessing considering the disaster he nearly walked into.

Yes. You’re referring to that disaster in particular. When, in some desperate last-minute attempt for validation, you threw yourself into the arms of your ex-husband.

More like fixed the collar of his shirt and whoops, slid right on his dick…again.

What is wrong with you?

You’ve been asking yourself the question far too many times. You’d think being a hot-shot CEO of a million-dollar tech company would make you like titanium, resilient as finely pounded steel but no; you're just barely keeping yourself together. You regret your rash decision that day, you regret ever marrying Jeon Jungkook, and you regret ever giving in to your stupid feelings.

That’s why you’re here now, waiting in the office of your therapist’s private practice, hands restless in your lap. You’ve been seeing Melody for just over two months since your divorce was finalized, ready to move on; trying to, more like.

‘JeonX CEO Jeon Jungkook’s ex-wife compensated $1.8 billion in divorce’

‘South Korea’s Golden It couple split with ex-wife taking half the company revenue’

These are the lovely words that greet you from your phone screen.

You have the urge to grab your special red ballpoint pen from your bag and scribble out the entire paragraph, except it’s not a printed gossip magazine— it’s a newspaper column on the internet. Instead, you close out the pesky tab on your phone and reply to its sender.

Chim 🐥: can you believe this crap they’re saying about you?! It's no shit you were given a hefty divorce settlement. You brought in half the income! They’re making you look like some kind of gold digger. I swear if I ever lay my eyes on that pretty ex-husband of yours, I will end him! 😡 [sent at 5:06 pm]

Park Jimin, your childhood best friend, sends you a follow-up text when you don’t immediately reply to the news articles he forwarded over. He’s been extremely overprotective of you lately and especially pissed at how the media’s been portraying you, while Jungkook is seemingly getting a free ride. He’s always had an axe to grind with your ex-husband, to be honest, the divorce gives him only more reason to hate him.

You: Thanks for your concern Chim, but nothing they say surprises me anymore. If you don’t mind, can you stop sending these to me? [sent at 5:12 pm]

You hope your message doesn’t read as cold or dismissive. Jimin’s concern for you is a light in a dark place, but you don’t really want to be reminded of the amount of slandering articles still targeted towards you.

Gone are the days when the public saw you as a powerful woman in business, the one to watch, or the CEO of the fastest-growing startup in the last ten years. You're now simply Jeon Jungkook’s conniving ex-wife; as if you’ve merely seduced him for his money and ran when the going was good.

Of course, the whole situation is skewed to his side; half the world is in love with him after all, and that includes the few lingering reporters who've been practically salivating three feet from you at any given chance, hoping to get an exclusive “inside look”. Your marriage was a sham, you wanted to scream, a mutual business transaction.

Too bad rather than an increase in status, resources, and market share, you gained a pile of twisted, unwarranted emotions and regrets.

“I apologize for the wait Ms. __."

The door swings open as your therapist rushes into the room. She stops at her desk to retrieve last week’s session notes, then takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you with crossed legs.

“It’s okay,” you assure, straightening your posture. “I understand how crazy busy the day can get. It wasn't a long wait anyway."

Melody gives a small smile and jots a few words on her notepad. “Thank you for understanding. How are you doing this week?”

You take a deep breath. "Tired," you respond, "especially this week at work. It's like as soon as I wrap up one project, there's another jumping out from nowhere." You used to be ahead of the game. Now you're barely surviving.

"That's right," she hums. "Last week you mentioned having to attend a charity gala soon. Would you like to start there today?"

Crap, you're suddenly reminded that you have to pick up your gown by 7 pm tonight. You entertained the idea of not going to the gala at all, but that would do you no favors in the end. Given your situation, you can't skip out on such an important charity event.

"Sure," you nod. "The Winter Gala's tomorrow night, actually. It's funny how I used to look forward to it every year, being an opportunity to network and catch up with my peers. I can't say I feel the same thrill this time around."

"Because of the divorce you mean?"

"Exactly. Being the CEO of one of the largest software corporations in the world, my ex-husband's influence far exceeds my own. So whether out of loyalty or political agenda, anyone who's anyone will be on his side of the room. I'm gonna end up being that one awkward person in the corner in a far too expensive Dior gown who no one wants to dance with." You nervously chuckle out the last sentence.

Melody opens her mouth to respond, yet stops when she notices you're not quite finished.

"It'll be the first time seeing my ex-husband after months of no contact too. I guess that's what I'm looking forward to the least."

When you think about it, the most you've seen of Jungkook is his face appearing on the massive screens downtown. He's been featured in at least a dozen interviews lately, teasing a brand-new product his company's planning to release in the spring. Seems he's doing well.

"What you feel is valid Ms. __." Melody seeks to assure you. "In the past, you used to go to these events with Jungkook right? He provided you with a sense of safety, as you did for him, no doubt. I wonder if it's a lack of consistency and belonging that worries you, more than it is about seeing your ex-husband and your peers. Companionship too, of course."

"I suppose that makes sense, but it never used to be this way." Your voice raises to match your sudden argumentativeness. "I used to be very comfortable in my own skin. I used to be confident going to these events alone, long before Jungkook came into the picture."

You pause to take a breath before continuing.

"When Jungkook became CEO of his family's software company, JeonX, he was steps away from being bought out by both our competitors, so a partnership was proposed. We married at 27 as nothing more than two ambitious, rising leaders in business. Neither of us was after love or romance when our careers were at stake."

"But then that changed for you," your therapist carefully observes. "Combined, you both held the largest share of the tech market. You and Jungkook were also in an extremely intimate relationship, yet treated it as a business contract. Unfortunately, those don't always come out clean in the wash. It appears to me that while you gave him three honest years of your life, he stole those three years from you."

The words take a moment to sink in; Jungkook stole three years from you. It conflicts with what you want to believe, though from the bottom of your heart, you know she's right.

"I feel so...guilty. I hate that I fell for him, and I hate that I'm struggling this much to let him go." As you tear up, Melody hands you a tissue from the side table with an empathetic gaze. You mouth a thank you and gently dab your eyes with the soft fabric.

"I'd give yourself some grace Ms. __. But if I may ask, what about Jungkook?" she gently probes. "Do you think he feels the same?"

"No...," you say with remorse, shaking your head. "He's moved on."

Melody remains silent for as long as you need in the moments following, cautious to follow your lead. The last thing a therapist should do is rush their patient through the session, so she sits patiently and waits for your go.

"Sorry," you finally say. "We should continue."

"No need for apologies," she replies. "Take your time."

It takes a good minute or two longer of sitting in your car before you can fully compose yourself. As usual, your session with Melody was intense and insightful, but it was far too short. You're gripping the wheel with both hands when her final words of the session echo through your head: "Give yourself some grace; blaming yourself won't do any good."

Seemingly simple advice, yet tough to follow when you constantly feel responsible for the mess you're in. Yes, even though Jungkook has the bigger end of the stick, you made your share of mistakes too. You should have looked into other options when you found out your competitors were looking to buy out JeonX instead of eloping with their CEO.

Just what were you thinking __? you harshly scold yourself. You were trying to protect your company. You both were. Too bad you placed the cart in front of the horse.

Forcing yourself to take a slow, deep breath, your eyes widen in alarm when you catch the time on the clock— 6:38 pm. Fuck! The boutique that's holding your gown for tomorrow's gala is closing in twenty minutes. Without a moment to spare, you yank the seatbelt and slam your foot on the gas.

"Good evening Ms. __." A young woman, fitted in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, greets you with a faint bow as soon as you step foot into the posh boutique.

"Hello, Hana," you refer to the young lady by name with a smile. "I'm terribly sorry to be coming in this late. I came by to pick up the gown I sent in for alterations two weeks ago. The event's tomorrow and I know the shop will be closed for the day."

Knowing the exact dress you're referring to, Hana responds with a soft tone, "Please don't worry Ms. __. We have the gown ready." She disappears to the back of the shop to retrieve it.

As you wait, your mind drifts to memories of last year's gala. You had worn a vibrant, gold gown that evening, slightly risky with a low neckline. Jungkook liked it though, as he wore a matching gold vest himself. You can imagine how crazy the press went when you both set foot on the scene, arms linked and appearing to have coordinated your attire perfectly.

Every investor at the gig wanted to be your friend that night, anxiously pushing through the crowds to speak to you. One of them nearly split your dress in two, as he had accidentally stepped on your gown after one too many drinks. You recall Jungkook scolding the man before turning his full attention to you, making sure you were alright. You consider this to be the first time you truly started looking at him as your husband, a feeling of warmth blooming inside you.

How foolish you were to let that feeling grow.

You're attending the gala alone this year, without him.

Possessing no desire to call attention to yourself this year, you've chosen a rich, navy blue gown instead. It's subtle yet sophisticated. Made out of the finest silk, its silhouette is sleek and falls straight down to the floor without any extravagant frills. The neckline is simple too, paired with a tasteful open back. There are no flashy accessories or embellishments, just a straightforward, classic design. You find the gown beautifully elegant, and nowhere near as bold as your previous one.

"Here it is Ms. __," Hana chips from afar, her heels clacking against the polished floor tiles. In her hand is a generously sized garment bag, your dress flowing underneath.

"Thank you so much, Hana," you say, taking the gown from her hand. "Again, I'm sorry for my tardiness picking this up. I hope you have a wonderful night."

You leave the boutique, the sun having already set.

The Winter Gala takes place on the top floor of Seoul's most luxurious hotel, specifically in its grand ballroom. The walls are adorned with gold trim, and its floors are elegantly lined with polished black marble. Above, a magnificent glass chandelier glimmers, catching the moonlight filtering through the surrounding glass windows.

Despite being a private event, the gala attracts a whole slew of press and locals who eagerly gather on either side of the hotel's front doors, treating it as a prime spot for viewing the red carpet.

Physically, you're ready; dressed to the nines, and makeup done just right. Mentally, you're absent; secretly sipping a margarita at the end of the earth, wherever that is. The day finally comes for you to make an appearance at the Annual Winter Gala and it's clear, you're not prepared in the slightest.

Your nerves consume you as you sit in the backseat of your limousine. You protested against being dropped off at the front entrance. Hell, you hadn't even wanted to arrive in a limo. However, your PR team insisted you be seen arriving, happy to be supporting a charitable event for the eighth year in a row.

Reluctantly, you complied.

Chim 🐥: I wish I could be there with you tonight 😞 No matter what, don't let those snobs get into your head. You look stunning and you have nothing to be ashamed of! [sent at 6:23 pm]

"Thank you, love," you whisper to aloud upon reading your best friend's endearing message. Before you can craft a reply, your door is flung open, with harsh flashes of cameras blinding you. When you step out of the limo, you hear a mix of passionate cheering and interrogative remarks.

"Ms. __, could you share with us your experience of attending the gala without Jeon Jungkook by your side for the first time?"

"Ms. __, it's unexpected to see you here this year, especially considering your recent separation from your ex-husband, who is also on the guest list!"

"Ms. __, how do you plan to navigate the evening's festivities without the familiar presence of your former partner?"

Just keep walking __. If you can just get inside the building and tune out the noise, you'll be fine. You coach yourself with every step, but make little progress with the amount of discomfort only skyrocketing. Your photos are being taken, and questions barrage you from all angles. To top it off, you feel a strong migraine coming on and oh fuck— is that the devil now?

You don't have to glance back to guess the sudden increase in cheering is due to the arrival of another hot A-lister. It has to be Jungkook with a new woman by his side. You think he wouldn't bring a date to an event like this, even if she were a hire? You'd be horribly mistaken.

You fight against the urge to turn around and confirm if your suspicions are true.

"__!" a voice calls out, which you ignore.

But wait a minute.

You stop in your tracks—that's not Jungkook's voice at all; it’s far too raspy.

Peeking over your shoulder, your jaw falls open as you see Kim Taehyung steps behind you wearing a boxy grin on his face. He's dressed to the hills with a shiny maroon, Louis Vuitton suit hugging his slim waist. Quite handsome, per usual, but what is he doing here?

Taking the initiative, Taehyung strides next to you and waves to the crowd charismatically. “My movie shoot wrapped up early so I thought I’d swing by and see what all the excitement’s about,” he says.

You observe how easy it is for him to appease the crowd, a skill you’re still working to sharpen.

“Tae-” you begin.

He then turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. You shiver at from the sudden intensity.

“I got an invitation too, and the gala happens to support a cause that I find close to my heart.” His voice lowers for the next part, allowing only your ears to hear. “I also didn’t want you having to be alone this evening, __. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries.”

Taehyung’s words manage to coax you away from your previously frazzled state, comforting you as the chaos quiets around you.

“Thank you, Taehyung. You didn’t, don’t worry,” you reply, giving a tight-lipped smile. “It’s actually a good thing you came since you’re basically the second face of my company after all.”

“I’m happy to hear that. We’ve been working so well together recently, and I don’t want to ruin it. May I?” He offers you an arm.

“You may.” You slip your arm into his and continue towards the hotel entrance. You admit you’re glad to see him.

With Taehyung nearby, your apprehensions of the night start to subside. He’s not always beside you, slipping away to mingle often, yet his mere presence relaxes you. You haven’t even thought about Jungkook to be honest. Well, maybe a little bit.

You take a sip of the drink in your hand and casually scan the ballroom until bingo, you spot your ex-husband by the bar in the middle of half a dozen people. Figures he’s the center of attention, effortlessly tethering people to himself. Jungkook loves the spotlight, and the spotlight loves him. As you continue watching him from across the room, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirls within you; longing, sorrow, anger. You haven't seen him in over two months, it feels surreal.

Memories of your time together come flooding back all at once—both the good and the bad, yet mostly bad. It's strange how someone you were once so close to can suddenly feel like a stranger. You allow your gaze to linger a moment longer, curious to conclude a date is nowhere in sight. Perhaps you’re mistaken and they’ve merely slipped away for a second. You’re positive he would’ve brought someone.

Bitterly, you gulp down another sip of your drink. When you place your glass down, you nearly choke at the sight of Jungkook's dark eyes burning holes at you. You avert your gaze immediately, silently begging that he didn’t just witness you staring at him and take it as an unsolicited invitation to come over.

“So,” a provocative voice unexpectedly slides next to you. “Looks like you just traded one bachelor for the next __. I’m shocked to see you’ve shown up to our little soirée.”

Oh god, you roll your eyes, recognizing the owner of the slithery voice like the back of your hand. You do not have the stamina for this tonight.

“Kathy," you greet with the fakest, yet sweetest smile possible. "Nice seeing you again. I haven't seen you since last year. How's the baby?"

"Oh please," she scoffs. "Don't try to deflect, sweetie. We both know it's you who is of far more... intrigue. If you understand my gist."

You want to hurl at this woman's condescending tone. Nothing gets under your skin more than someone your age calling you sweetie. It's not endearing in the slightest, especially when it's Kathy Lee, Director of CommaTen. You despise each other, likely because you both hit it big in the industry at a young age. Meeting someone who reminds you so closely of yourself isn't always a blessing.

“Anyway, as I was saying," she continues, brushing her hair behind an ear. "I have quite the bone to pick with you about stealing that actor from me. Kim Taehyung was mine first, you know."

Hers? She speaks as if a person can be owned. You won't lie, you're surprised Taehyung agreed to partner with you at a time when most of Seoul's elites have turned against you. You're naive to assume that his support wouldn't backfire on his reputation. On the other hand, he's been your endorser for two months now and his following remains fully intact.

“To be frank, I didn't know the two of you were talking business at all," you respond to the accusations with composure, though burning up inside. "But of course, he's free to make his own decisions, can't he? Whatever the reason, something must have enticed him."

“You—" Offended by your insinuation that your offer was better than hers, Kathy doesn't stop what comes next. "We both know the only reason why Kim Taehyung's with you is because Jungkook left you! And you need the extra publicity, isn't that right?"

Fuck. Well, now you're really fucking embarrassed because, at that moment, everyone in the room shifts their attention your way. A pin drop could be heard in the entire ballroom since even the live band ceased their playing.

This is why you didn't want to come. Your fingers fumble with the fabric of your gown.

“Don't act like you're above me just because your company might be worth more than mine, __. We'll catch up with you soon," Kathy spits her final words before spinning around and triumphantly walking away.

Don't cry, you tell yourself. Everyone's staring at you; the press, your peers, Jungkook, and Taehyung. Don't you dare cry.

As the murmurs of conversation gradually resume around you, you force yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. Kathy's words were nothing but a feeble attempt to save her own face. Besides, what company doesn't have at least one endorser?

"Are you alright?" Taehyung's low, gentle voice catches your attention as he swiftly returns to your side, no doubt influenced after witnessing Kathy's verbal jab.

You manage a tight-lipped smile, nodding faintly as you attempt to push back the overwhelming wave of humiliation. "I will be," you reply, though the words feel hollow even to your own ears.

His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between you.

"I hope you don't take her words to heart, __," he mutters. "I chose to become your partner because I genuinely believe in your product. I'm selective about who I support, so please trust me when I say it wasn't because of material gain or pity."

You're on the verge of responding to his reassurance when you catch sight of your ex-husband from the corner of your eye, striding his way over to you for the first time tonight. His expression is unreadable, so you brace yourself, unsure of what to expect.

"__," he starts, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable urgency. "Can we talk?"

You and Taehyung share a quick glance before you follow Jungkook out of the ballroom, seeking privacy.

As soon as you're out of earshot, Jungkook turns to you, his features softened by a hint of concern. "Hey," he starts. "I meant to get over to you sooner but got tied up. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I know," you respond, though you'd rather he didn't come over at all, especially after being dragged into the spotlight in front of all your peers and colleagues.

The two of you share an unsettling silence before he speaks again.

"You-You look good." He allows his eyes to rake up and down your body, causing you to cross your arms in discomfort. There was a time when his gaze brought a flutter of excitement, but now, you're not so sure it brings you the same pleasure.

"I'm sorry for what happened in there," he says. "You okay?"

"What?" you repeat, your eyes wide with surprise, stunned by his unexpected apology. "Am I okay?"

Where was this concern when he handed you the divorce papers nine months ago? Or when he willingly took advantage of your vulnerability that time in your office, only to disappear afterward, as if he hadn't just torn your heart out of your chest? You clench your fists, trying to contain the rising temperature of your anger.

"Yeah, about what she said about you," he clarifies. "It was uncalled for, and I feel horrible about it." He reaches out to touch you, but you instinctively step back, as if his touch would scorch you.

"Please, don't," you sigh, a trace of weariness in your voice. "It's fine."

"I'm serious __, I can have her charged with defamation for that. It wouldn't take much!" His insistence is unwavering, and it strikes your last nerve.

"You don't need to fight my battles for me, Jungkook," you suddenly snap, voice stern. "I'm not completely helpless now that you've divorced me!"

Jungkook's expression darkens, regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm not saying you are. I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" you repeat, doubtful. "How do you think that's going to look for me in the media? Jeon Jungkook slaps another high society member with a defamation charge for ex-wife. Thanks, but no thanks. I get enough of that as is."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know they've been difficult on you recentl—"

"Difficult?" you interject, your anger bubbling to the surface. "In case you haven't noticed my face is on every gossip magazine, billboard, press release, and anything else they can use to scorn me with. It's unbearable, especially since I still have a business to run."

Jungkook winces, clearly stung by your words. "Then let me help. I'll get them removed for you. I still care about you, __."

You scoff. "You care about me? Is that why you made me sign our divorce papers three months after you found out I wanted more than a fake marriage?"

His jaw clenches, gaze dropping to the floor guiltily. "It's not like that, __. I'm not trying to be an avoidant asshole. I want you to-"

"Find someone else. Yeah, I got it," you mutter bitterly, feeling a fresh wave of hurt wash over you.

"I'm sorry, __. I am."

You stare at him, torn between resentment and a lingering ache for the connection you once shared. Now, he's apologizing?

"So am I," you say, slowly backing away from him. "You don't have to do anything, Jungkook. I'm fine."

You then turn on your heels to return to the ballroom where Taehyung still waits for you, leaving your ex-husband standing in the hallway, alone.

a/n: A much-needed confrontation between oc and jk eh? But... *laughs evilly*..this is not the end...LMK what you think! 🤔🤍

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

Tags:

@jksjx @lovingkoalaface @junecat18 @babystarcandyjk97 @wobblewobble822 @a-gayish-unicorn @neverthefirstchoice @whipwhoops @hubbytaehyung @jalexad@cassies-cookies @llallaaa @marshieeeemallow @baechugff @lovemazespluto @eegyo @iwanttobecalledaurora @harmonyflora @francheskarm34 @sftlrmin @saba-ya @11thenightwemet11 @yoursnixni @zafirowwa2909 @btsffreader92 @junniesoleilkth @iamcamlb @bangctans @lilliankoo @talyaaas-blog @blackswan18 @appleh4ad @hoseokteardrop @613tannies @whoa-jo @borahaeb1ch @getougf @chimmisbae @kookcobain @miniekookiegucci @purplelanterns @eegyo @inthemiddleofsomething22-blog @darkuni63 @bibimboppin19 @phanniefoo @chieftoadturkeynickel @existenciosa @dasommwa @hrndez2008 @minayas1998 @sumzysworld @pwd54gr54 @jellycake2109 @sigxx123 @00frenchfries00 @importantperfectionmiracle @stigma93 @lpgirl2324 @youremyjinearth @moonups-stuff @bubblyyz @hvnnibvni @ttanniett

side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.

> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k

> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)

> in which masterlist!

note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲

—

“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”

you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.

it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.

it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.

however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.

“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.

when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.

“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”

with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.

“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.

“oh, shit.”

in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.

oh, he’s in so much trouble.

he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”

the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.

“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.

“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”

he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.

“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”

with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.

“and we can still do this, remember?”

the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.

“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.

jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.

“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”

and just like that, you’re a little more awake.

“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”

hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.

“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.

“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.

“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.

and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.

“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”

that’s him. that could only be him.

jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.

“really?”

“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”

“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”

you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”

“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.

you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“have you cleaned it?”

“not yet.”

“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”

exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”

“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”

he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.

“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[hotreadingwitch]

Bucky x Reader - Whiskey & Wine

Content Warnings/Kinks: OMEGAVERSE-ish, arranged marriage, praise kink, alpha kink, cum swallowing/play, choking, licking, hickeys, fingering, oral sex, penetrative vaginal sex (+ knotting), impregnation/breeding

Silent, stoic, cruel even, but undeniably 100% Alpha. Y/n had only heard reverent praise and scared whispers regarding the character of her soon-to-be husband James “Bucky” Barnes. She figured it was lower-level werewolves, ones with no real connection to him, that spoke of him this way. Maybe, though logic made her think otherwise, he was simply a kind man with a bad reputation. Surely not, but all she could do was hope…

~ 

The traditional march played as the wedding planner, a female werewolf of her future husband’s pack, ushered her down the aisle. Almost tripping on her heels, she tried her best to put one foot in front of the other. She passed her parents, the same ones who’d offered her up for the engagement in the first place, as well as members of both their packs sitting within the small church. Bucky’s back was broad, his stance dominant, powerful, and intimidating. Only when she was firmly planted next to him did he finally spare her a glance. 

His gaze flicked up and down her face, as if he were tracking her or waiting for a particular shift in expression, one of fear perhaps, like he was used to seeing. She jutted her chin, packing away the stories of malice she’d heard about the man standing beside her at the alter, for sanity’s sake if not for her own self-preservation, because, though potentially cruel, he was possibly the most beautiful person she’d ever seen in her life. Her face must’ve flickered with the internal conflict warring within her because Bucky’s gaze sharpened, drinking her in like he’d sip whiskey over ice, slowly and with leisurely purpose. 

Then, just as he’d finished looking her up and down, clear hunger in his eyes, his nostrils flared and his eyes widened. She knew then, flush creeping up the back of her neck, that they’d noticed it at the exact same time…the scent, the intoxicating smell. To her, he oozed of leather, wood, salt, and fire, but also, somehow, of home. His scent was so strong it was almost like a siren’s call. What she smelled of to him she did not know though it seemed he was struggling similarly. Her lips parted as her cheeks heated, almost curious enough to ask, as if the eyes of both their packs weren’t watching curiously from the church pews mere feet away. 

“Ready, Alpha?” the officiant asked, clearing his throat. 

Bucky’s stare was icy, causing the other man to jump slightly. It was as if he didn’t wish for the moment to be interrupted. She tucked that information, as well as the overwhelming realization of what his scent meant, away to deal with after the ceremony. 

Y/n could barely focus on the words the officiant was saying. The religious component of weddings had never truly interested her. After a while, they were coming close to the end of their vows, 

“…through sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part? The officiant asked. 

“I do” Bucky responded, with so much certainty it startled Y/n. 

“And you, Y/n’ he prompted, “do you promise to take James through sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until death do you part?”

The arrangement between them was to broker peace between two confrontational tribes, a marriage made for her on behalf of her parents and his mother. He was older than her by maybe 10 years or so, having just ascended, becoming the Alpha of his pack when his father died. She met his gaze, feeling suddenly, for the first time as if she had a choice. It was something in the open way he was looking at her that made her feel as if she could trust him, as if she didn’t need, let anyone want, to run anymore. 

“I do” 

Bucky’s shoulders sagged in relief and Y/n was so fixated on the movement that she almost didn’t hear the officiant say, “You may now kiss the bride…”

Y/n’s face heated as Bucky gazed at her with nothing but pure want. The hostility they’d both had prior to meeting each other simply melted away, as did the rows of werewolves viewing the moment between them. His hand gently gripped her face, tilting her face upward. Her eyes fluttered closed as he came closer until suddenly his warm lips brushed against hers. 

It was modest, controlled even, and over within seconds. In other words, Bucky’s kiss was nothing like what she’d expected. As she opened her eyes disappointment coursed through her until her eyes caught on his. That smirk, that slight narrowing of his dark gaze. He might not be giving it to her now but he sure as hell would be when a hundred pack members weren’t looking at them in their hotel room that night. 

The crowd cheered as they turned toward them. Bucky’s lips grazed her ears then and she could practically hear the smile in his tone when he said, “Later…” 

She blushed, taking his hand before making their way up the aisle, walking towards the big church doors and their future. 

~

Click. The door locked behind them. 

Bucky’s tall form moved towards her, easily overpowering her space with just a few steps. The hotel they’d been put up in for the night was massive, overlooking the city’s famous skyline, with a king-size bed in the centre of the space. His hand rested on her waist, his thumb caressing her skin. Even the heat from his hand through the fabric of her dress was enough to make Y/n's feelings from earlier all come to the surface. Y/n gazed up at him and judging by the way his tongue ran across his bottom lip, he could tell exactly what she was thinking about. 

“I don’t want to overstep Y/n…” Bucky started, his hand still grazing her waist. 

“I want you to” she interrupted, “Overstep, I mean…I want whatever you’ll give me tonight” 

He cleared his throat and for a second she thought she may have misread the situation, his lingering looks, his words…his scent. Insecurity made her cheeks heat. 

“But only if that’s what—“ 

“Shh,” his hands moved to her warm cheeks before his lips landed on hers, silencing her self-doubt in seconds. She’d normally balk at a guy telling her to shush and yet when Bucky did it her feminist cares went out the window. He kissed her fiercely then, humming onto her lips with pure satisfaction. His hands moved down to her ass as they stumbled backward towards the bed, pushing her down onto the silky sheets. He chuckled darkly as she bit at his bottom lip, dragging her sharp teeth across the delicate skin, “You’re gonna be trouble aren’t you?”

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be” she found herself whispering back, eyes still closed. 

“And if I just want you Y/n? 

That got her to look at him, to truly look, intently searching his gaze. 

“Then you’ll have me” Y/n finally kissed him again, groaning into his mouth as his hands travelled across her body, “Take me, Bucky please, I need you…” 

His hands moved down, checking her expression to make sure she was both turned on and willing, pushing her wedding gown up so that it sat around her waist. 

“Fuck” he swore at the sight of her. 

“Like what you see, husband?” She joked, playfully showing off her lacy, white panties to him.

But all she could do was gulp as his eyes darkened quicker than a rolling storm and he began to slowly roll up his shirt sleeves until they rested just below his elbows, giving her a front-row seat to his strong, veiny forearms. 

“This arrangement is not—” he started only to stop and collect himself, rubbing at his stubbly chin, “You may joke about it now Y/n but the next time the word ‘husband’ comes out of your mouth it’ll be because you can’t help but scream it” 

Before she could even respond, his hands were back on her, caressing the underside of her thighs, spreading her legs wide with gentle but firm pressure. She gasped as he slid her underwear to the side, hungrily taking in the sight of her slick pussy. 

“Fuck, you’re soaked for me baby…” he groaned as his fingers started to run up and down her slit, “…Ruining these pretty little panties”

She whined in response, his fingers felt so good her eyes fluttered shut, her brain zeroing in on the pleasure. 

“Is that okay?” 

“Yes,” she whimpered at the gentle contact, bucking her hips up to meet his touch. 

“Good” he declared, his confidence infectious, turning her on even more. 

“Yes,” her voice was breathier now, desire taking over her body and mind, the need to please him stronger than her will to live. 

Bucky’s finger traced up from her slit to her clit, the simple motion making her shiver and moan softly. He rubbed circles around and around it, languidly, as if he could tease her pussy all day. Her slick made his subtle movements smoother than silk. 

“Such a pretty pussy baby” he kissed at her inner thigh, his growl muffled as he sucked on her skin, “So fucking hot…and all fucking mine” 

Bucky touched her like she was a goddess, like he believed she deserved to come again and again, as long as it was for him and only him. And she could tell it turned him on to touch her. Not only did his pants look extra tight, but his gaze was dark, and his cheeks flushed beneath brown stubble. He groaned as she ground her hips up, feeling his fingers with more pressure, making her eyes flutter shut. 

“Look at me Y/n or I’ll stop touching you right now” 

When her eyes snapped open, Bucky’s gaze was piercing. 

He came up her body as slow as a predator, his tongue grazing her neck in a strong line, cool air tracing where he’d licked mere seconds later. She couldn’t help but shiver. The smooth lick turned to kisses, a smattering of gentleness that combatted his strong command over her pussy and made her melt into him, somehow even more than she already was. 

“…I need you to look at me while I fuck you with my fingers, okay baby? Can you do that for me?” He said as he slunk back down.

“Yes,” she gasped needfully, not taking her eyes off of him. 

“Yes, who?” 

“Yes Alpha” she whined, pulling his hand back to her. 

He slid two fingers into her wet hole, up to the knuckle, and she rocked her clit against his palm, chasing her high, taking everything he was giving to her and more without once breaking his gaze. His other hand mapped her thighs, tracing over her soft skin, almost obsessively. Her back arched at the feeling. 

“So wet, so fucking tight…” his lips pressed between her thighs, causing her to gasp.

She whimpered and whined with every flick of his tongue as he licked like her pussy was coated in the sweetest honey. 

“My needy baby…” He goaded her, making her groan, “Are you gonna cum all over this tongue?”

“Yes, fucking yes” she growled, gasping, “Don’t stop” 

His fingers pumped, curling inside her as they did, his tongue lapping at her clit, until she was on the edge. Her body felt suspended in the air as if she was about to free fall. Back arching, she came, bursting all over his expert tongue. Only after she’d shuddered her way through the feeling did Bucky stop, removing his soaked fingers and sucking up all her juices. 

“See that wasn’t so hard baby” he smirked. 

“Yeah?” She glared, “Why don’t we see how long you can last being teased like that?” 

Bucky’s eyes slowly lifted to hers, “You’re that desperate for my cock?” She aimed to gently slap his shoulder playfully but he caught her hand, grasping it tightly in his, “And here I thought you were a good girl Y/n…or maybe you just want to be fucked like you’re bad?” 

She couldn’t help the whimper that escaped her lips. Bucky grinned fully, canines on display, before throwing her further up the bed. 

“Hands and knees” he commanded, his voice thick with lust. 

The time for teasing was clearly over. Y/n flipped over, adjusting herself so that she was in the position he wanted. If her first mistake was being too playful, then her second was looking back over her shoulder just in time to see Bucky unzip his pants and pull out his giant cock. 

“It’s too big Bucky…” she whined at the sight, tightening instinctively.

“You can take it baby” he stroked her clit softly between kisses on the back of her neck, warming her up again, “I know you can”

His praise made her practically light up inside. If he said she could take then that meant surely she could. To show she wanted it, she arched her back, letting out a small “please” 

He spread her folds, opening her entrance to him before sliding in. She moaned at the feeling, not able to help the way her insides clenched immediately around him. Throwing her back, she was already beyond being far gone. Bucky’s hands swept across the swell of her ass, squeezing the flesh so hard she felt the action in her bones. He thrust slowly, teasing her, dipping his cock in and out of her until he was completely coated in her juices. 

“Fucking soaked for me” he growled as he continued, “You've been thinking about taking my cock all night baby?” 

“Yes” she whimpered and fuck, she really was a complete mess for him, putty in his veiny, sexy hands. 

Bucky’s thrusts continued, speeding up slightly until she couldn’t help but beg him to go faster. 

“Please…” Y/n whined, flustered by his teasing cock, “I need it…it—faster—fuck” 

His hands ran up the space between her breasts from behind before settling around her neck, pulling her up so that her back was flush with his hard chest. Her heartbeat thundered beneath his palm as he squeezed, the pressure gentle but firm.

“You need what, baby?” His voice was rough in her ear, the sound of his breath so erotic she almost came right then and there, “Use your words and tell me like a good girl” 

“I need you to fuck me faster—roughly, please” 

If her request felt stupid to express aloud, Y/n’s embarrassment was literally fucked out of her instantly with the power of Bucky’s next thrust. Her back arched, making his cock hit deeper and causing her to gasp. He slammed into her relentlessly and when she looked back he had that feral grin on his face again. It was like he needed it like this, hard and fast, too. 

“Bucky…” she whimpered, the noise garbled in her throat. 

“Yeah, say my name baby, fucking scream it” he growled, his voice both intimidating and warm.

She clenched tighter around him, moaning at the intensity of the feelings her body was experiencing. He nudged her legs farther open with his knee in response, pushing deeper, eliciting another rumbling groan from her. 

“…Right there” she whispered breathily as his groans of pleasure tickled the shell of her ear, turning her on even more. 

He thrust and thrust and thrust, pushing so deep into her she thought he’d break her. But she didn’t break, in fact, she felt that with Bucky she probably never would. Moaning she bounced her hips back, driving into him, her pussy practically grabbing him and pulling him further inside. Her mind was turned on by Bucky sure, but her body, that was another thing altogether. She seemed to be having a reaction to him that even her mind couldn’t control. It was something deep within her that was attracted to Bucky, something both restless and needy and cellular. 

Logically, she knew he must be her mate. Logically, she knew that having a mate, having sex with a mate, was explosive. What she didn’t know was just how explosive it would truly be. 

“As soon as I smelled you, I knew you belonged to me” he groaned, his thrusts puncturing each sentiment, “Sweet wine, berries in the summertime…Perfect, you’re fucking perfect for me Y/n” 

“I feel—“ her breathing became more and more laboured with each thrust, “—the same way” 

His strong hand, gripped her face, tilting her lips backwards to meet his. Their kiss was passionate and full of all the things they both wanted to say. But they’d found each other, by a stroke of luck they had, and that was all that mattered. Words could wait. 

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna cum…” he groaned, his grip on her hips tightening even more, “You know what’s about to happen, baby?” 

“Yes,” she affirmed, telling him that she understood before whining, “Please..” 

Y/n could feel it swelling beneath her but it didn’t scare her, if anything it made her want his cum more. The need to have him filling her was so intense, her pussy clenched harshly around him. With any other man her tightening that much would surely push him out but not with Bucky, not with her mate. She could feel his knot, his wet lips on her neck, his hand reaching down to flick at her clit, each pleasure making her gasp. Bucky was everywhere but more importantly, he was everything. 

“Squeeze me, yes—fuck” he growled in her ear, “Taking me so good—taking all this cum for your Alpha” 

“Yes, yes, yes—shit” she chanted, her body blissed out as the waves of her orgasm began to wash over her, “Please don’t stop” 

“I won’t baby, never” 

It was Bucky’s lust, his confession, and his confidence in their future together that sent her fully over the edge. 

“Fuck” he breathed in a harsh breath as her pussy started to milk him. 

She breathed in deeply, holding it in her lungs as the pleasure washed over her, making her body twitch and her back arch. And Bucky held her through it all. His hands roved over her with reverence, taking in her perfect form as it writhed before him as if he was in awe of his skill and how he was able to make her feel that good. 

Only when she’d finally finished and he’d deflated, did he pull out of her. She knew then that, after this experience, they’d never part. They’d needed to fuck it out and now the rest of their lives would be better for it. His lips met hers before he began tracing her warm skin, planting kisses in the wake of his gentle fingers. 

“You know…” she started, blushing as she immediately caught his focus, “You told me what I smelled like to you but I didn’t tell you what you smell like to me” 

“And what do I smell like?” He smiled playfully, eyes still soft and hazy from his orgasm. 

“Home” 

[vunblr]

An Unfinished Goodbye

Pairing: Ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Jealous Bucky. Slight angst.

Summary: Bucky tells himself he’s only watching over his ex-wife and son for their safety. But when someone threatens to alter the status quo, his quiet vigilance falters.

Word Count: About 2.6k

note: The events of this story are prior to The Weight of Choices, but the reason of the divorce is adressed there. This is an idea that’s been on my mind for some time, and I’ve finally decided to write it.

Bucky didn’t let himself linger in the neighborhood too often. He told himself it was for her safety, to make sure no remnants of his past ever came close to the life he’d left behind. But the truth? The truth was much harder to swallow.

So here he was again, parked inconspicuously down the block, watching his old household from the safety of shadows. Nearly two years had passed since the divorce, yet his routine surveillance hadn’t faltered. He called it caution. Vigilance. Love disguised as duty.

But something had shifted over the past few months. He’d noticed a pattern: Wednesdays, late afternoons, like clockwork. She would leave the house with her bag slung over her shoulder and a bounce in her step. She wasn’t dressed for a date: no makeup, no particular effort in her outfit. Casual, comfortable, but purposeful. She always walked, sometimes taking Benjamin along, though not often. Her destination was only three blocks away, a quaint bookstore with dark wood paneling and colorful window displays.

At first, Bucky dismissed it as another errand. But as the weeks passed, he couldn’t ignore how much time she spent there. The store was small, not the kind of place where someone could lose themselves in endless aisles of books. She never came out with stacks, just one or two bags that didn’t explain why she lingered inside for nearly an hour each time. It intrigued him.

What was she doing in there? Who was she talking to?

He had no right to feel like this, not after everything he’d done, not after he’d been the one to walk away. But knowing that didn’t make the questions stop, nor did it ease the tightness in his chest every time he imagined someone else making her smile the way he used to.

Bucky shifted in his seat, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. He knew the store was safe, he’d checked it out the first time she visited, a quick sweep of its modest interior to ensure there were no hidden dangers. But that was before he noticed the pattern. Before he noticed him.

The clerk.

Attractive in an unassuming way, clean-cut, and friendly. The type of guy who probably didn’t carry the kind of baggage Bucky wore like a second skin. He’d seen the way the man smiled at her, the easy banter as she lingered at the counter. It didn’t take a genius to see the man was interested. But what stung more was the question that haunted him every time he saw them together.

Was she interested, too?

The first time Bucky walked past the bookstore on a Wednesday afternoon, it was a coincidence, or so he told himself. He’d been in the area, making one of his usual rounds to ensure Hydra remnants weren’t stirring trouble when he saw her through the large display window.

She stood at the counter, leaning slightly, her bag hanging loosely off her shoulder. Bucky slowed his pace, his eyes drawn to her like a magnet. Her lips moved as she spoke to the clerk, and then she laughed, he couldn’t hear the words, but the smile she gave the man, warm and genuine, was loud enough to make something twist painfully in his chest.

Bucky’s steps faltered. He forced himself to keep walking, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He didn’t look back.

The second time, it wasn’t a coincidence.

She didn’t see him, of course. She never did. He’d become an expert at moving through the edges of her world without disturbing it. That afternoon, he lingered across the street, leaning casually against a lamppost while pretending to check his phone. She was there again, standing at the counter. The clerk handed her a small brown paper bag with a flourish, and her head tilted in a way Bucky recognized, a sign she was amused. The way the clerk smiled back was almost smug, and Bucky’s jaw tightened before he realized what he was doing.

It wasn’t jealousy. It couldn’t be. This wasn’t about him. He was there to make sure she was safe, not to… what? Spy on her? Analyze every smile and gesture? No. That wasn’t why he was there.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

By the fourth Wednesday, Bucky had stopped pretending. He started arriving just before she did, timing it perfectly so he could loiter nearby, feigning to check the notices on the community bulletin board. He didn’t always stay long, just enough to see her walk in, to make sure nothing seemed off. He wasn’t watching her. He was watching over her. There was a difference, even if it felt like splitting hairs.

That day, though, he couldn’t stop himself from glancing through the window. Just a quick look, nothing more.

And there was the clerk. Smiling. Laughing. Reaching across the counter to tap the corner of her bag, like it was their little ritual.

Bucky’s stomach churned. He didn’t wait to see how the rest of their interaction played out. He turned on his heel and left, his steps quicker than usual.

The afternoon pick-up at the kindergarten next day was as uneventful as ever. Bucky leaned against the frame of the door, arms crossed, watching as Benjamin rushed to shove the last of his toys into his tiny backpack. The teacher smiled at Bucky, offering a polite nod before turning her attention back to the other children.

“Ready, buddy?” Bucky asked when Ben finally zipped up the bag with a triumphant grin.

“Yep!” the boy chirped, slinging the strap over his shoulder and racing over to grab his dad’s hand.

They walked back to the car, the boy chattering about his day: the finger painting, snack time, and the new dinosaur toy one of the other kids brought. Bucky listened, smiling faintly, savoring these rare moments of normalcy.

When they reached his apartment, Ben bounded in, already pulling out his toys and making himself at home. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He set down Benjamin’s backpack and started unpacking it, pulling out pajamas, a toothbrush, and a small paper bag. The bag’s contents caught his eye, a glossy new children’s book with a vibrant cover featuring talking animals.

“Where’d this come from?” he asked, holding it up for the child to see.

“Mom bought it yesterday!” Benjamin called from where he was lining up his action figures. “She said it’s funny, and I wanted you to read it to me tonight.”

Bucky swallowed hard, his fingers tightening briefly around the book. It was a small thing, a routine purchase for their son. “Sure, pal,” Bucky said, forcing a smile. “We’ll read it before bed.”

Later, with Benjamin tucked under a warm blanket and already halfway to dreamland, Bucky opened the book. He flipped through the first few pages, skimming the cheerful illustrations, until something yellow caught his eye.

There, stuck neatly to the inside cover, was a post-it note.

Bucky’s stomach twisted as he peeled it off. The handwriting was neat and precise, the kind of deliberate script that came with care.

"For Benjamin and his supermom. If you ever need a quiet moment to yourself, you know where to find me. Coffee’s on me."

For a moment, Bucky just sat there, the note pinched between his fingers, his jaw clenching tighter with every passing second. He read it again, and then again, as if repetition might dull the sharp edge of what it implied.

The clerk wasn’t just leaving a kind gesture for Benjamin. This was for her, testing the waters, pushing the boundary between friendly and…something else.

His chest tightened as he looked down at his son, fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in his father’s mind.

Bucky ran a hand over his face, letting out a slow, controlled breath. He knew he had no right to feel this way. He was the one who left and broke her heart. She deserved a chance to move on, to be happy. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t interfere, wouldn’t sabotage any future relationships she might find.

And yet, as he sat there in the dim light of his living room, his son’s soft breathing the only sound breaking the silence, and all he could think about was the smile she gave the clerk, the ease of their conversation. It twisted inside him, the raw ache of knowing she might be moving on, that someone else might be filling the space he’d left behind.

The book lay open on the coffee table, colorful illustrations staring up at him like an accusation. He should be happy, he knew that. If the clerk was kind, if he made her smile, then wasn’t that what Bucky had wanted? To know she was safe, loved, and cared for by someone who didn’t carry the weight and dangers of a bloody past?

But it didn’t feel like that. It felt like something had been ripped out of his chest, leaving an empty, hollow ache. He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

What was he going to do? March into the bookstore and tell the guy to back off? Make a scene, all because he couldn’t handle the sight of her moving on? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. It was pathetic and out of line.

Bucky told himself to sleep it off, to push it down and let the night take the edge off his emotions. But when he slipped under his covers, the darkness only seemed to amplify everything: the sting of the note, the look on her face when she laughed with the clerk, the ache in his gut.

He turned onto his side, then his back, staring at the ceiling as if it held answers he couldn’t grasp. Hours passed like this, his thoughts circling the same drain, relentless and unyielding.

He fell into a fitful sleep sometime near dawn and woke up with a headache pounding at his temples. Dropping Ben off at kindergarten helped distract him for a while; the boy’s energy was infectious, and Bucky managed a real smile when he waved goodbye, watching him run inside without a second glance.

But once Ben was out of sight, the intrusive thoughts returned, a heaviness that sat low in his stomach.

He pushed it aside, meeting up with Sam at a quiet café in the city to discuss a potential mission overseas. A dangerous arms dealer had resurfaced, and Sam was talking about intel, tactical approaches, and backup options, but Bucky only half-listened. He nodded in the right moments and offered a few curt suggestions, but his heart wasn’t in it.

Sam noticed. He always did. “You good, Tinman?” he asked, giving him a sidelong glance, his voice dipping in concern.

“Yeah,” Bucky replied, too quickly. He took a long sip of his coffee. “Just a rough night.”

Sam’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t push. He knew Bucky well enough to recognize when to leave things alone. “Alright. But if you’re not up for this trip, just say the word.”

“I’m fine,” Bucky insisted, setting the cup down a little harder than he meant to. He forced a smile. “Besides, what else am I gonna do?”

Sam’s grin softened the tension between them. “Yeah, well, we both know you’re bad at sitting still. Just… if you need to deal with whatever’s got you distracted, handle it before it blows up in your face.”

Bucky’s smile faltered, and for a moment, he wondered if Sam could see straight through him. “I will,”

The day dragged on, filled with errands and prep for the potential mission. It was late afternoon when he realized where he was, standing across the street from the bookstore, hidden in the shadow of a building.

He shouldn’t be here. He knew he shouldn’t be here.

But he couldn’t leave, either.

The clerk was inside, bustling about, turning off lights and flipping the sign to Closed. The street was quiet, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows. Bucky’s pulse thrummed in his ears as he watched the man lock up, a spring in his step that made Bucky’s jaw clench. He didn’t know this guy’s name, didn’t care to know it. All he knew was the way the man looked at her, and it was enough.

Bucky stepped forward, letting the streetlight catch his face just enough for the man to see his expression, cold and unyielding. He took his time, closing the distance with the kind of deliberate, measured steps that always made people nervous. He wanted the clerk to feel it, to know exactly what this was.

“I’ve seen the little note you left,” he said quietly, his voice a low rumble that carried in the empty street. He didn’t raise his voice, he didn’t need to. The menace was in the calm, the quiet control. “And I need you to know something.”

The clerk swallowed hard, taking a half-step back. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t-”

Bucky’s eyes were steely as he interrupted. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. And I need you to stay away from my wife.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and deliberate. He knew he shouldn’t have said it -my wife- but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to leave an imprint, to sow the seeds of doubt and fear. The man’s face paled, his eyes flicking between Bucky’s unyielding gaze and the empty street behind him as if he was already considering his escape.

“I didn’t mean anything,” the clerk stammered, his voice barely above a whisper now. “I was just… being friendly, I swear.”

Bucky leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I don’t care what you meant. If you leave another one, if you talk to her again, if you so much as breathe in her direction, I’ll know. And trust me, you won’t like what happens next.”

He let the threat hang, unspoken but understood. The clerk nodded frantically, backing away, nearly tripping over the curb in his haste.

Bucky stepped back, letting the shadows swallow him again. He watched as the man stumbled away, disappearing down the street at a near run.

The next Wednesday, she walked into the bookstore as usual, expecting to see the familiar face behind the counter, the easy smile, and the warm greeting. Instead, a tall, bearded man she’d never seen before looked up from behind the register, offering her a polite but distant nod.

“Um, hi,” she said, trying to keep the confusion out of her voice. “Is Matt not working today?”

The new clerk shrugged. “He switched to the morning shift this week. Said he wanted more daylight hours,” he explained casually, returning to the task of rearranging colorful bookmarks without much thought.

“Oh,” she replied, caught off guard. Matt hadn’t mentioned anything about changing his schedule. For a moment, she couldn’t shake the odd twist in her chest, a mix of confusion and something that felt uncomfortably like rejection. It was silly, really, but she’d thought there was a small, unspoken connection between them, a hint of something starting. But clearly, she’d been reading too much into a few friendly gestures.

After a quick, half-hearted browse, she left the bookstore sooner than usual, her expression distant as she stepped back onto the sidewalk. Her mind churned with a muddle of questions and disappointment, feeling foolish for hoping there had been something more.

Of course, Bucky was there, watching from a distance as she walked out of the bookstore, with a subtle sag of her shoulders, and a distant look in her eyes. He knew exactly why; he’d made sure of it. It was pathetic, really. He’d driven off a harmless guy, all because he couldn’t stomach the thought of her finding comfort or affection in someone else.

He swallowed hard, staring after her as she disappeared into the crowd. He’d done it again, made things harder for her, twisted the knife he’d already lodged in her heart. But despite the suffocating shame, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[gay-dorito-dust]

Okay, so hear me out, with that sweet reader I would love to see her finding out Mizu is a female. But she doesn’t react and doesn’t change how she treats Mizu. When it is talked about after some time she just says, “it doesn’t change that your Mizu. And I am here for you.”

Mizu was washing the grime off of their skin and cleansing their more serious wounds carefully and diligently in prevention of any and all possible infection within the waters of a nearby lake before reaching for the needle and thread.

Meanwhile you were trudging along the small pathway through the woods towards the lake whilst carrying some freshly cleaned and sewn up change of clothes for Mizu, a temporary substitute for them to wear whilst you were had at work with repairing their old clothing; after having learnt rather quickly that they were particular towards their own style of clothing, after trying to show Mizu the variety of clothing made available in the most recent town you visited.

Nothing there seemed to make all that much of a difference to Mizu and soon or later you dropped the topic of clothes all together, and quickly returning to search for the reason why you were in town in the first place. The rest of the town visit was nothing more then a blur of blood and steel, all you remembered of the outcome was Mizu being hurt and their clothes were ripped and torn in a multitude of ways, stained with drying blood.

So when you finally made it to the cleaning that gave way to the lake presented before you and were about to voice your presence to Mizu, your eyes looked up from the clothes in your arms to a sight that easily took away your breath;

There Mizu was sitting at the edge of the lake, their bare body dripping wet, as raven black hair clutching onto their back as the goosebumps upon Mizu’s skin were awoken from the cold breeze that passed now and then. You could see everything that was once well hidden, and all you could think was the same thought you’ve had since first meeting Mizu; ethereal.

‘Apologies for the intrusion Mizu.’ You smiled at them as you continued to make your way towards a tree stump, placing down the clothes upon it neatly before picking up the torn, bloodied clothes Mizu came to bathe in the the lake in, taking them into your arms before looking back at Mizu, who was looking at you with an unreadable expression. ‘I just came to bring you a fresh set of clothes, just for the meantime.’ You gestured to the bundle of clothes in your arms only to receive a stare in response. ‘I’ll be leaving now, enjoy the rest of your bathe Mizu.’ You added before taking your leave back through the small trail through the woods.

Mizu on the other hand was uncertain how to handle to you now knowing, though it was purely accidental but that didn’t matter because you now knew, and yet your lack of reaction -or any that would’ve been clear as crystal upon your face- was Mizu’s main point of intrigue. You didn’t change the way you acted towards them, if anything you continued with your task as though nothing was new, nothing had altered the way you perceived them. It was perplexing experience to say the least for them and Mizu vowed to catch you up about this later on, but until then stiching up their wounds and getting changed was their top priority.

It went before long that everyone expect you had since fell asleep, Mizu chose to take this as a sign to strike up a conversation with you in regard to earlier; not wanting to miss out a single detail they wanted to ask before you go to sleep. So just as you were about to succumb to sleep yourself, you were about to wish Mizu goodnight as you walked past, only to be stopped when you felt their hand grab ahold of your wrist; Stopping you in your tracks completely.

‘Mizu, is everything alright?’ You asked and just like that the words left Mizu’s mouth faster than their brain could’ve processed them. ‘You saw me, down by the lake.’ Mizu started, their hand on your wrist squeezed a little tighter. ‘You saw all of me and yet didn’t bat an eye,’ Mizu now looked you dead in the eyes, ‘why, why didn’t you?’

‘Does my answer affect our relationship going forward?’ You questioned them softly as you sat yourself down next to Mizu, with patience and kindness at the ready, just like you always had.

‘I’ll base my judgment upon your response.’ Mizu replied, making you smile, they never wanted to give away how they felt so soon into the conversation, especially when there was some important and vital information for them to gain from it. ‘What I saw back at the lake, it doesn’t change that you’re Mizu and so I didn’t see it becoming of me to change my attitude towards you because of it.’ You began, looking Mizu into their eyes to prove your seriousness about this. ‘And I want you to also know that I’m still here for you, from now until we’re forced to part ways.’

Mizu didn’t say anything but their grip on your wrist immeditly went slack, giving you free range to move again but you chose not to. Not wanting to leave their side just yet. ‘I don’t know whether that’s the response you were looking for but I hope it was the one you needed to hear. I am here for you Mizu. Always.’ You finished before heading off to sleep.

[crimson-and-clover-1717]

When I watched OFMD this year, I literally knew three things:

It was called Our Flag Means Death

It was a pirate comedy

It had been cancelled

I didn’t know Rhys Darby (‘that Murray bloke from Conchords’) or Con O’Neill (‘the weird guy from Chernobyl’) were in it until they came on screen. And please don’t stab in me in the face, but I had never heard of Taika Waititi. I’m very much not the target market for this show. Although I will say I think it’s universal in its exploration of the human condition. So if you’re human, the show is for you.

I knew nothing about budget cuts, editing decisions, or even at this point any circumstances around why it had been cancelled. I had not an inkling it was a romance. I had no notion it was going to overtake my life to such an extent.

I watched one episode a night for 18 nights (I know, I know… I binge-watched it immediately afterwards over two days, and haven’t stopped since). I also had no-one to talk to about the show as I watched the 18 episodes. No-one I knew had ever heard of it. I really was a blank canvas.

And this is what I thought. Other than finding Calypso’s Birthday a little uncomfortable on first watch (and that’s largely because I find torture, even the OFMD variety, difficult to engage with - I always skip the opening of 206 now), I saw no difference between the seasons in terms of artistic merit. It’s possible that because I didn’t experience an 18-month hiatus, and build up my own version of what season 2 should be in my head, I didn’t have any expectations to be knocked down. I just engaged with what they asked me to watch.

I fell in love with this show at ‘My name’s Stede. I’ll be your robber here today.’ I fell in love with Stede Bonnet when he did his little Scrappy Doo air-punch in episode two.

With regard to season two, The Innkeeper affected me so much I honestly think it altered my brain at a structural level. More so than The Chain sequence which is when I think this show started affecting my brain chemistry.

I also loved the development of Stede and Ed outside of their personas. The couch scene in Fun and Games made me believe in them as a couple in ways I hadn’t quite in season one because they were growing and being real with each other. I thought their arguments were so well-written. Man on Fire has one of the most authentic representations of couple miscommunication I have ever seen on tv. And I think Mermen is really good in doing what it needed to do, and did it well. How do you end a tv series that gives a satisfactorily emotional ending, but doesn’t give away everything in case there’s another season?

Ed’s journey in particular just ripped my heart out and then glued it back together. And seeing Stede continue to develop his very nonlinear understanding of the power of his earnestness and gnc self, whilst still sometimes wrestling with notions of traditional masculinity… I needed to grow a second heart.

When I learned of the financial and time constraints later on, I was shocked they had achieved such a high standard of tv.

Imagine my shock when I discovered the Canyon…

It’s fine if you don’t like season 2, or season 1, or OFMD at all for that matter. But if you want me to say season 2 isn’t any good, or as good as season 1, then you want me to say something that I have never felt to be true. When you experience it holistically like I did, it all hangs together beautifully.

[justalildumpling]

the aftermath (of champagne & tequila)

synopsis: so maybe those few glasses of champagne and tequila wasn’t your smartest choice of beverages at your high school reunion. but how were you supposed to know that running into your childhood crushes absolutely wasted would have you dealing with the aftermath of making out with not one, but both within the same hour?

pairing: haechan x fem! reader & mark x fem! reader genre: love triangle, childhood crushes au, college au, fluff, humor word count: 7.4k warnings: swearing, making out, mentions of alcohol, vaping, weed, jokes about death and just a 'hol lot of y/n being a dumb drunk

note: there’s really no plot to this, just pure thirst and chaos but then again, isn’t that all my fics ever🙃 (and god forbid any of my irls see this bc they'll know exactly who everyone is based off of💀)

[ playlist: all my friends - snakehips / feels - calvin harris / pretty please - dua lip / one kiss - dua lipa / leave the door open - bruno mars / nasty - ariana grande / streets - doja cat ]

IN YOUR DEFENCE, you weren’t planning on getting this drunk. 

In fact, you remembered reassuring your group of friends about this the day before, emphasising your astounding hatred towards the very limited selection of the free alcoholic beverages available at the bar (namely, beer and wine). 

Further backing up your case, you had initially turned up to your high school reunion an hour late with the lazy excuse of your last-minute decisions towards your outfit that day – which, considering your turbulent meltdowns about having no clothes at two in the morning, was a complete fucking lie – only covering up your actual reasonings of not wanting to face your high school year group. 

You didn’t exactly have any particular reasons to avoid anyone – a matter of fact, you liked to think you got along with everyone back in the day, often bouncing around from friend group to friend group with shiny eyes, inviting smiles and friendly banter – but there was something about reuniting your cohort again after a year which felt awkward. 

There was no doubt that everyone would have changed in some way shape or form. 

Heck, you were a completely different person from when they last saw you in the body of that wide-eyed girl in the crisp white blouse with the conservative knee-length pleated skirt. Plus, judging by the daily scroll of your Instagram feed, many of your peers seemed to don an altered version of their high school selves as well – meaning you had to get to know everyone all over again. 

You vaguely remember turning up at the congested bar next to your high school building. The entrance was decorated with popped bottles of champagne with only a few clean empty glasses left on the display tray. The rest are in the hands of the various levels of tipsy college kids packed together like a can of sardines in front of the bar, eagerly milking out the bar tab set by the committee. Despite your school renting out the entirety of the second floor, it felt a little too tight, almost claustrophobic inside as you discreetly tried to scan the drunken crowd for your usual group of friends. However, your search didn’t last long, resulting in you eventually giving up after a few seconds, opting to ease the mild squeamishness with some liquid courage.

The cheap champagne burned the back of your throat as you settled on painfully chugging the glass in mere seconds, sticking out your tongue in disgust. Regardless of your initial reaction to the first taste, you began lining up for another glass, maybe in hopes of finding your intoxicated friends swimming in the chaos.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Is that you?” 

Your ears perked at the familial voice amid of the loud chatter, head whipping towards the warm beam of Huang Renjun – a longtime locker mate/bandmate during school. Crushing you into a tight hug, you momentarily thanked the higher power of the universe for sending at least an old buddy as your first very sober interaction. 

Though you and Renjun had never exclusively shared the same social circle, your friendship went way back. It started from being in the school’s so-called “rock” band together to trauma bonding over some unfortunate extension English classes in middle school to being neighbouring lockers for the entirety of high school. You recalled Renjun being a wholesome-looking guy, uniform always neatly tucked in, hair short and well kept, so when you spotted his long bleached hair and a silver ring hanging off the left corner of his lip as you pulled away from his grasp, surprise was an understatement of your reaction.

“You pierced your lip!” you exclaimed, turning your face to various angles around him to have a closer look.

A hearty laugh escaped his lips, throwing his head back as he playfully modelled his new accessory with a childish smile, “I did! Though I would be lying if I said I got this voluntarily.” 

You cocked your head at him as the two of you received your preferred beverage from the bar counter, gesturing for him to elaborate. Renjun paused, sipping on the overflowing bubbles of his beer before adding, “I lost a bet with Donghyuck.” 

Lee Donghyuck, a name you would say you were well acquainted with. He was a popular figure with the female community of your school for his visuals and many other talents, an eye-catching part of Renjun’s circle and your childhood friend. Well, sort of.

The two of you met in second grade, the joyful period of a child’s life where everyone was automatically considered friends if you shared a class or your mothers exchanged more than two sentences and invited you to their birthday parties. Also meant, playing with the designated child of your mother’s chosen friend of the day until their hour-long conversation was over. 

Considering the sheer amount of afternoons spent with Donghyuck throughout your elementary school days running around with his family puppy on the school grounds, you would think that would automatically deem the approval of the “childhood friend” title. But the two of you didn’t really talk outside of your forced interaction nor did you share the same lunchtime activities much to your pathetic heart’s dismay. 

It would be a lie if you said you weren’t charmed by the warm scruffiness of the little boy, oftentimes guilty of shamelessly boring holes into the back of his head during class and daydreaming about your futures together instead of listening to your homeroom teacher. You had a feeling your mum knew of your little infatuation towards the boy, often sending you a knowing gaze after your weekly runarounds with him and after the mention of his name in conversation prompting you to believe that her coincidental run-ins with Donghyuck’s mother weren’t so accidental afterall. 

Though growing out of your shorts and summer tunic dresses and into your somewhat maturer age of a teenager; the validation of the excuse of your mother’s budding friendship to catch him after school expired alongside the dissipating giddiness you had once held for him. Something you saw coming for a while as you found yourself seeing less of him around which came as no surprise as neither of you shared the same class nor the same friends as you naturally started gravitating to different parts of your enlarging year group. 

Finishing off the remainder of your flat champagne, you raised your eyebrows at the boy, “Donghyuck? Haven’t heard that name in a while, how is he?”

Renjun hummed, fingers drumming on the sides of his beer glass, “Why don’t you ask him? He’s here today,” he began standing on the tips of his battered converses, peering around the bar for the boy in question.

You shook your head with a chuckle, “Don’t worry about it. It’s going to be impossible to find him-”

On queue, Renjun hollered Donghyuck’s name at the back corner of the room, waving at a shadowed figure exaggeratedly. You weren’t even sure how he was able to spot him within the chaos so quickly when you were still left in search of your friends. But that wasn’t your biggest problem anymore as you recognised Donghyuck emerging from within the darkness, jokingly shoving past the large group of huddled and what you assumed to be intoxicated boys. 

He didn’t look too different from the last time you met, maybe a few centimetres taller, skin sun-kissed from the recent summer weather but holy shit, was he still as hot as ever. If not more.

“Damn Y/N, is that you?” 

You were too sober for this. Sure, you had started to feel the buzz peppering various parts of your face; but your emotions, the logical voice in your brain remained intact, with it blaring “DON’T FUCK UP!” in bold capital letters the closer he got. 

Shoving your jitters further down your lame excuse of a brain, a playful smile was forced upon your lips, “The one and only.” 

Donghyuck grinned, lightly pulling you into a welcoming embrace, catching you off guard, “It’s good to see you again.”

You could tell the alcohol had already hit his systems judging by the uncharacteristically physical greeting and eyes lazily half-lidded as he pulled away from your grasp. “Looks like someone’s had a bit to drink tonight?” you teased, eyeing the lingering closeness between the two of you.

Donghyuck chuckled, softly shaking his head, “I haven’t had too much, maybe a couple of glasses of champagne at school and a few beers here. What about you?”

“Only two glasses of whatever they’re serving at the bar,” you shuddered at the thought, placing your empty glasses down on the side of the countertop. 

“So what I’m hearing is that you haven’t had enough yet,” Donghyuck sent a cheeky wink your way, completely forgetting about poor Renjun’s presence in the conversation as he lightly tugged at your sleeves back in front of the bar, ordering your preferred drinks with the bartender. Clinking your topped-up glasses with the boy, you wondered if making conversations with the boy was this easy before. It wasn’t like he was antisocial or judgemental during your high school years, maybe a little arrogant at times which initially caused your group of friends to have a slight dislike towards the boy.

“Y/N no,” you remembered your best friend Ningning immediately shutting down your thoughts followed by the excessive nods of your friends. 

The five of you sat on the floor in front of your lockers, the smell of the freshly made fries Minjeong had bought from the deli next door wafting down the corridor as you had your heated discussion for the day. How you ended up on the topic of your resurfacing feelings for Lee Donghyuck was a whole other question of its own. (Ah, you remembered. Minjeong tripped down the stairs as you and Donghyuck exchanged smiles and pleasantries, whilst she panicked about her one fry which flew out of the cardboard box, all you could think about was him)

Ningning scrunched her eyes, lips formed into a sour expression, “He’s just so…” 

“Egotistical?” Shuhua offered.

“Short?” Yunjin added, throwing a handful of fries in her mouth.

“Both,” Ningning affirmed. She patted your lap, a thin smile drawn on her face, “You’re too good for him Y/N.”

It was safe to say that the droplet of leaking feelings had shrivelled back up into your heart that day, both due to your friend’s confronting opinions towards the boy and the unapproachable aura he exuded. (Ok, maybe you admired his golden face from across the room from time to time but who could blame you? It wasn’t your fault his stupidly good looks started appearing at every extracurricular activity you signed up for that term) 

A full glass’ worth of conversation passed at this point, and the both of you head deep into your storytelling of your crazy nights out. Bursts of booming laughter thundered as he described canon bombing into his university’s questionable lake and audible gasps sounded as you described your New Year's celebrations earlier that year. Maybe you were wrong about your skepticisms towards the boy during your schooling years, blaming your tendency to catastrophize any minor inconvenience to blow his inherent “unattainableness” out of proportion.

Pulling your phone out of your handbag to check the time, you were greeted with several missed calls and spammed messages from your friends, slapping you back to your original goal in mind. 

“Everything alright?” Donghyuck’s face appeared beside your phone screen, eyes concentrated on your sudden change of expression.

“Uh-” you began typing your response to your group chat, reassuring them of your whereabouts in the heavily packed venue, ”-yeah. Yeah, sorry,” you clicked your phone shut, stuffing it back into your purse before facing him again, “Just reassuring a panicked group chat.”

He laughed, dipping his head in understanding, “I’m guessing I’ll have to let you go?”

You shrugged, offering him a small pout, “Unfortunately but hey, take a shot with me later?”

A soft smile littered Donghyuck’s face, hands squeezing the tops of your shoulders.

“Bet, I’ll come find you.”

NOTE TO SELF: Don’t go into the female restrooms during a big event in a relatively logical state of mind.

The girls' restrooms were a lively place for the residents of your school, always scented with the popular fumes of grape ice and strawberry watermelon vape, the tile floors littered with abandoned pairs of laddered stockings in the winter and forgotten multicoloured hydro-flasks perched on the benches. With quite the vaping addiction of your school, it was always a fun game of guess who when you took the trip to the restrooms during class, which clique was occupying the stalls together, which flavour they were attempting that day or what piece of drama you were going to be handed. 

You realised that not much had changed when you found your friends huddling with quite the assortment of other girls in your year group in the bar restroom. The air was concocted with the nostalgic smell of blue raspberry vape and Maison Margiela, accompanied by loud loving gossip in the unoccupied stalls and the occasional drunken mirror selfies in front of the basin.

“Oh my gosh Y/N! You’re alive!” Ningning screeched, glomping you into a tight hug, “I was about to get up on the tables to find you out there.”

“Sorry, I missed your calls,” you wheezed as Minjeong came over to peel the girl off of your body, “I didn’t realise my phone was on silent.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” Shuhua slurred attaching herself to Minjeong’s side, “You must’ve been bouncing around like you usually do, judging by how long it took you to find us.”

“Yeah,” – if bouncing around meant from one drink to another with the same person – “You could say that.”

“Yunjin said hi by the way,” Minjeong interrupted, pulling up a photo of your absent friend striking a cute pose in front of a sushi train in Hawaii, “She said to drink on her behalf, which I don’t think is the best idea.”

“That girl’s probably drunk right now,” Ningning snickered, turning to face the large mirror to reapply her lip gloss, “But I’ll take any excuse to drink more.”

Minjeong raised an eyebrow at the girl, “Didn’t you say that you were saving your liver for next weekend?” 

Ningning merely shrugged, waving her off before grabbing ahold of your hand with an animated wiggle, squabbling about something along the lines of you looking too sober. You ran into many old faces on the short journey to the bar front, hearty laughter and juicy gossip unconsciously spilled and overheard from the neighbouring conversations (Though whether it was true or not, you weren’t sure, but considering the topics of accidental pregnancies and very messy breakups – maybe it would be best to wish for the latter)

You were on your fourth glass of champagne at this point, something you couldn’t understand as every sip you took attempted to change your mind; it really just tasted the same – like fucking ass. The state of yourself on the other hand arguably has made some progress, to your best friend’s delight. You had joined in on Ningning’s nonsensical babbling a half glass ago, nodding along to whatever came out of her mouth with a small giggle tickling up your throat. She leaned into your ear, slurring some muddled sentence that was drowned out by the screaming lyrics of ABBA. A nod came as a reflex for you, a dazed smile tugging at your lips.

She gave you a little squeeze on your shoulders, shuffling past a sea of people and to the other end of the room. The world seemed to move faster than what your brain could handle at that given moment, only registering the disappearance of your friend as well as the foreign group of kids gathered around you a few minutes later. 

There you were, at square one once again, like a clueless fish stuck between the school of other wandering creatures. Except, replace the ocean with flat champagne and cheap house beer.

With an exasperated sigh, you took a step back from the chattering circle, but what you thought was an empty space was in fact a person. A person with a full glass of beer – well, half full after you knocked into it.

“Shit- Fuck- I’m so sorry, is your drink o…kay?” Your words trailed off as you came face to face with your ex-best friend Mark Lee.

Ah yes. Mark Lee and Y/N L/N, quite the known duo during your middle school days. Inseparable, protective and unanimously voted as most probably secretly dating or housing feelings for each other – which to be fair, wasn’t exactly false. 

Your rather complicated feelings for the boy began in fifth grade when the boy slipped you a silly doodle of a duck in a top hat during math class. The two of you were seated a table apart from each other with your respective seatmates so you weren’t too sure of why he specifically chose you to gift his work of art but regardless, you giggled, pencilling in the words “Taffy the Duck” on the top of the page to pass back to him. Your little note passings continued throughout the rest of elementary school, leading to middle school where in your despair realised that you shared zero classes with the boy. Despite this, your friendship stood as strong as ever, hanging out during lunchtimes and visiting the local 7/11 after school until well – it wasn’t.

There was no pivotal moment when you stopped being as close as you were; in fact, it was a question that remained frustratingly unanswered throughout the years. It wasn’t like the two of you ever argued or had a major fallout – which could’ve given you a proper reason to either make up or talk to him again – but rather be described as a painstakingly slow drift, enough to the point where it was unnoticeable. Maybe it started with the branching of different friend groups then led to your attention on your respective crushes at the time – which now that you recollected on your past, think that your hidden feelings for each other at the time were the only thing holding you together.

Sure, you had attempted to revive your friendship at times, starting with the ever-so-awkward first hellos in the stairwell to a couple of sentences exchanged before classes started in your final year, but all efforts seem to have unravelled as you graduated from school and went on your separate ways, until today.

“Oh hey, Y/N?” 

You handed him a napkin from the bar, “Mark.” 

Shaking the excess residue off of his hand, he mumbled a quiet thanks as he took the napkin from you. You wanted to die, really. As a matter of fact, you were convinced that it would be a much more pleasant experience than silently standing like some dumb wooden doll in front of your ex-best friend, as he cleaned up after your mess. 

“So,” he cleared his throat, “It’s been a while huh?”

You gulped down the last sip of your drink, feeling the burn of the champagne trickling down your oesophagus, “Yeah, I mean the last time we talked was, one and half years ago?” – Technically, it was his birthday a little less than a year ago when the two of you last exchanged messages. It entailed your short greeting of “happy b’day mark!” and the equally blunt response of “haha thanks y/n”. However according to the Cambridge dictionary, a conversation is defined as a discussion about a particular subject and well, nothing was discussed.

“Well, how have you been? Your brother doing well?” Mark passed his fingers through his dark locks, turning his full attention to you.

You were surprised he remembered your brother, with him starting school not long before you guys stopped being friends, “He’s doing well, grown up a lot since you last saw him,” you snorted, remembering his little presence trailing behind the two of you after school, begging for you to buy him Mcdonald's fries, “How about you? You attend NCIT right?”

“Yep, studying Business,” he rolled his eyes, “Quite the regretful choice. How about you?”

“Communications at Yonsei,” you responded, “Though, I did originally transfer from Business, due to as you said. Quite the experience.”

Mark chuckled knowingly, raising his glass to take a sip of his remaining drink, “It suits you. Communications that is.”

“What? Because I’m loud?” you joked.

He shook his head, “You always had great ideas, people always looked to you for advice.” 

A warm smile made its way onto your face. It was a reassuring phrase to hear, short but impactful nonetheless. Especially as you struggled to figure out your path after school, switching from one faculty to another in hopes of finding the one that didn’t make you want to throw yourself off a cliff side. Communications was a spontaneous jump but it was the only choice that made you confident in your abilities so hearing this sort of external validation felt nice, especially from him.

Mark returned the gesture, eyes crinkling into the tender crescent shape. Despite the maturing of his facial structure, he still housed the same childlike smile. The one which stretched to the outskirts of his cheeks, softening his overall cold exterior. The one that made you fall for him in the first place. 

“How come I didn’t catch you at school earlier?”

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts, “O-Oh, I turned up pretty late so I missed out on the terrace drinks.” 

“That makes more sense,” Mark hummed in affirmation, eyeing you up and down, “I feel like I definitely would’ve noticed you if you were there.”

What. 

“Tequila shot?” he offered.

You bat an eye, “Uh, sure.”

YOU SEE, you were an affectionate drunk – most often seen clinging onto your friends’ bodies for dear life or littering kisses on their cheeks towards the peak of your night outs. You concluded your drastic personality change was due to the massive confidence boost and the silencing of the practical parts of your brain, meaning that your already concerning amount of extrovertedness maxed the scale.

Before that evening, this quirky little trait of yours never caused you harm, only resulting in the multitude of ‘friends’ being made in the club’s restroom line or several new followers on Instagram the morning after – half of which you barely remember the existence of. 

It was barely eleven when Donghyuck snatched you away from your friends, keeping what you thought to be an empty promise of taking a shot with you. Although you were the one originally suggesting your actions, you won’t lie that you held low expectations for him to follow through – most definitely considering his current state of mind.

Clinking your shot glasses together, you downed the liquor in mere seconds, followed by the soothing taste of the lime, melting away the burn that chased up your throat. An electrified laugh sounded from your left as the familial chords of Bruno Mars blasted through the speakers. Donghyuck held no hesitation to grab your hands, dragging you to the front of the speakers as he playfully serenaded you throughout the way.

You could only shyly giggle as he twirled you around the circling crowd, blatantly avoiding his grand gestures for you to sing along. But your resistance didn’t last long as the chorus hit, finding yourself swaying to the beat of the music, accepting the enclosing distance between your bodies. You peered up to meet his eyes, still filled with the childlike wonder and life from the early days of your friendship to the sharp slope of his nose to his scattered moles down to his supple lips.

“You know Hyuck, you’re really hot.”

A satisfied grin laced Donghyuck’s lips, “Am I now?”

“Can I kiss you?”

You weren’t exactly sure what initially prompted you to blurt your relatively forward words to the unsuspecting boy. Maybe it was the lingering fresh taste of the lime on your tongue. Maybe it was the way he swiped his tongue against his bottom lip to soak up any last droplets of the liquor or simply because you just wanted to. Either way, what you didn’t expect was for a smirk to tug against Donghyuck’s lips, stepping closer to your body, eyes flickering to your lips as a finger grazed the underside of your chin. He momentarily wavered a couple centimetres away from your lips, warm breath fanning against your face before his lips met yours. 

The once horridly ear-deafening music of the room with the bubbling chatters of your cohort seemed to fade into the background as the ghost of Donghyuck’s hands skimmed the bare parts of your waist. His tousled curls tickled the sides of your cheeks as he nipped at your jawline, pinning your body firmer against the wall. 

“God forbid if our mothers saw us right now,” you let out a slight gasp as he kissed the sensitive part of your neck.

“Well, good thing our mothers aren’t here to see us, right?” a low chuckle rumbled from his throat before reconnecting your lips again, his tongue fighting for its place in your mouth. Your fingers gripped at the back of his head, tugging at the strands to elicit a staggered moan from the boy, filling your chest with a weird sense of pride and definitely not helping your already inflated ego.

You could conclude you had certainly passed your tipsy stage, with the last shot of tequila seeping into your system and pushing your brain’s irrationality almost a bit too far. You remembered once hearing your tenth-grade biology teacher talk about the effects of alcohol on the human body and how it altered your brain’s chemical composition. Specifically, how it lowered an individual’s inhibitions and social rationalisation.

And considering your ongoing messy but undeniably hot lip-locking with Lee Donghyuck, you began regretting zoning off in the latter part of that science lesson (not really. You did manage to beat your personal record in 2048) where she had subsequently explained how to piece together the drunken jumble in your brain as the following few words which tumbled out of your mouth, you would inevitably regret.

“Wait, I need to pee.”

YOU HAD TO ADMIT. It was quite scary the amount of things you managed to figure out about yourself whilst severely intoxicated.

One, you really couldn’t hold your bladder. Evident by the frequent trips to the restroom every thirty minutes or the number of times you had bumped into the same group of girls gathered outside the basins, offering you a hit of their neon-coloured vape and a piece of their drunken secrets. 

Two, realising the sheer amount of time and money wasted spent trying to figure yourself out during your high school years as the one night of limitless alcoholic beverages seemed to be a confronting personality test in itself. 

Three, the emotions you spent years persuading to simmer down in your heart were capable of rapidly firing out in mere seconds alongside the memory bank of shitty pick-up lines and your apparent drunken rizz that went through the roof.

Four, maybe your best friend’s words of you supposedly being in your “hoe phase” were really true because at that moment, you really, really wanted to kiss someone – more specifically, Mark Lee.

It wasn't exactly the best course of action, considering your heated make-out session with Donghyuck not too long before – which you left halfway through, might you add. But wise decisions weren’t things you were great at making. Especially a few too many glasses of champagne and spirits deep.

According to your very skewed sense of time, it was around midnight when you stumbled into Mark once again, this time hidden within the shadows behind a pillar in the corner with another drink in his hand. Not many people lingered around this part of the room. You guessed it was due to the immobile bodies sprawled across the dingy carpet a few metres in front and a frustrating lack of both music and alcohol. With a light trip in your step, you made your way towards the boy.

“Oh my gosh Mark! What are you doing here?” 

A concerned grimace appeared upon Mark’s lips, prompting him to place his drink on the carpeted floor to steady your rocking body. The room had begun spinning at this point in time, with Mark’s face distorting ever so slightly to your hilarity.

A giggle bubbled up your throat, followed by your hands which gravitated towards the poor boy’s face, poking various parts of his features in such fascination. Mark could only sigh, registering his sheer lack of control in the situation, as he sat you on the plastic chair. 

A wave of peace washed over your bodies for a few minutes, with Mark quietly sipping on the remainder of his drink whilst you traced your fingers across his jawline. Though much to his despair, the calm before the storm barely lasted three minutes as your loud ass mouth began itching to dominate your brain.

“Mark, has anyone ever told you how fucking hilarious you are?” 

Mark deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest, “I haven’t said anything.” 

“SEE?!” You bounced out of your seat, “A fucking knee slapper that one!” 

Another sigh escaped his lips, getting ahold of your shoulders again to place you back down, “Y/N, how did you manage to even get like this?”

“You know Donghae? Haechang? Whatever his name is-”

“Donghyuck.” Mark corrected, eyebrows furrowing at the mention of his name, “What did that overgrown cabbage patch kid do to you?” 

“Relax, he just bought me a shot…” You drew out your words before pouting, “Or two, and maybe a couple drinks before that.”

Mark shook his head, patting your head, “I’m gonna get you some water.”

“Nooo! Don’t go, you’re so sexy!” You latched yourself onto his waist, fingers twisting around the belt loops of his jeans. 

You could feel him visibly freeze on the spot, occasionally twitching nervously the closer your hands lingered to his crotch. You staggered up from your seat again, hands grazing his torso to wrap around his neck. Despite only a part of his face being illuminated by the light behind the pillar, it was enough to make out his parted lips and widened eyes.

Just like Hyuck, you realised how much Mark had grown into his mature face over the years. His cheekbones were more prominent, and his hair styled with the hard gel he refused to use in middle school. You reached to pass a stray strand across his forehead, though your eyes never left his and your lips inching closer towards his.

“You’re drunk, Y/N.”

You shrugged, eyes flickering down to his lips, “I wasn’t drunk when I wanted to kiss you.”

“And when was that?”

“Middle school, high school,” You paused, pondering for a second, “After graduation.”

A moment of shock flashed across the boy’s face, lips partly ajar and what seemed like a rollercoaster of emotions tumbling within his eyes. You had always questioned what his response would’ve been to a potential confession back in the day; maybe he would’ve reciprocated your drawn-out feelings and lived as a happy couple to this day, or if you wanted to be pessimistic, suffered the horrors of a toxic middle school relationship and be forever traumatised by love for the rest of your life; or maybe he would’ve rejected your feelings and just remained as an awkward pair of “besties”. 

There was a little voice shrieking from the depths of your brain to shut the fuck up, most probably belonging to your sober self trying to save your face. However, it seemed as though the mystery to your decades-long question would be answered that night as Mark chuckled, clearing his throat.

"Middle school me would've gone crazy hearing this." 

You knew you were definitely wasted at that moment, his words of reciprocation to your elementary school feelings flying over your head and rather hyperfocused on the warmth of his embrace and the subtle gulp of nervousness he took.

"What about present-day Mark?” You murmured, your breath hitting his lips, “Is this making him crazy too?"

"Absolutely insane."

You were reminded of your friends’ comments on your drunken rizz, with apparently any form of embarrassment and dignity thrown into the gutter to crash and burn. With the amount of unknown dms you had woken up to the morning after drinking, you’d think you would’ve learnt your lesson by now – but your drunken alter ego was a stubborn bitch. 

A bitch who definitely needed some kind of therapy.

As Mark smashed his lips onto yours, it was then you were hit by your mother’s words about drinking responsibly. Obviously, to avoid alcohol poisoning, potentially blacking out and passing out on the side of the road, but most importantly, to avoid involving yourself in sticky situations in which your sober self had to deal with the aftermath.

But how were you supposed to anticipate that the aftermath of a fuckload of champagne and tequila shots was going to have you hooking up with your childhood crushes at your school reunion?

Oh, and blackout whilst you were at it.

YOU WEREN’T GOING TO LIE, waking up in the comfort of your sheets came as a surprise for your tired self. 

You were quite proud of yourself for making it back in one piece, or even back at home at all and not passing out on the side of the road somewhere, considering the rather large gap in your memory and the fact that you were most definitely still drunk when you woke up. 

There was a slight wobble in your step as you made your way over to the kitchen, head pounding and face still numb as you took the first miraculous sip of water. Your phone screen lit up with a bomb of message notifications and Instagram tags from last night, in which you nervously opened your active group chat.

[ yunjin ] did i miss anything?

[ shuhua ] i shit talked about ppl with aeri and somi whilst high

[ ningning ] yk i don’t think i recall parts of last night

[ you ] i mean,, understandable. u were pretty fucked

[ minjeong ] y/n wrestling tongues with donghyuck was the most unexpected for me

[ shuhua ] you what😭

[ you ] we are not mentioning that…

[ ningning ] wait i swear it was mark, was it not?

[ yunjin ] lol plot twist: it was both

[ you ] …

[ minjeong ] YOU MADE OUT WITH BOTH OF THEM!??!?!?!

You chose to shut off your phone at that moment, predicting the bloodbath of capitalised screams and spammed Facetime calls from the group. Which, in all honesty, you severely lacked the willpower to deal with.

A soft shuffle of slippers sounded at the kitchen entrance, and you turned to face your mother. Still in her pink fluffy pyjamas, drowsily waved as she made her way to the fridge, delicately opening the door to grab the milk. 

“How was last night?” she asked, making her way to the milk frother.

You hummed, walking to the coffee machine with a mug in hand. “It was…”

An absolute clusterfuck of chaos – would be the correct answer. But telling your mother you had drunkenly made out with the sweet little son of her old friend and the name of a boy she hadn’t heard from for half a decade probably wasn’t the best piece of news to be told first thing in the morning – if at all.

You slipped a capsule into the machine with a crack, half haphazardly pressing buttons on the top before a mellow whir filled the silence, “... Interesting.”

A short chuckle resonated inside the refrigerator door, “What did you do this time?” 

You scoffed, offended by the direct jab of her question, “Hey! I don’t always get into trouble!”

“So you didn’t do anything last night?” 

You groaned, pouring the foamed milk into the coffee mug, “Well, no…” Dragging on the o, you passed the mug to your mum, huffing as you sat on the countertops, “How can you always tell?”

“I think I’ve heard enough drunken antics from you to know,” she took a sip from her mug, raising her eyebrows at your phone lock screen, “And I think the amount of notifications you’re receiving says a lot too,”

You reached over the end of the countertop, swiping your phone with a roll of your eyes. Your once pretty lock screen of you and your friends had been bombarded by the stacks of message notifications, fulfilling your prediction of incessant exclamation marks and illegible keyboard smashes. However, one contact profile stood out from the rest – that being a concerned Renjun.

[ renjun ] u feeling alright after yesterday?

[ you ] physically, pretty decent.  [ you ] mentally, very confused.

[ renjun ] haha fair, u did seem pretty wasted before u left

His message made you pause, attempting to dial back your inefficient memory to when you left the venue. 

Did you even see Renjun before you left? Pfft, who were you even kidding – you didn’t even have any recollection of how you got home in the first place.

[ you ] remind me how i got home..? :)))

[ renjun ] … mark left u with minjeong who called u an uber home [ renjun ] god, how much do u remember?

[ you ] … not a lot

[ renjun ] u free wednesday? i think we need a debrief

“IS IT TRUE that you kissed both Mark and Donghyuck at the reunion?”

Now. When you agreed to get a casual drink with Renjun the following Wednesday, you had expected a few questions about your little flings with his friends to come up in conversation. But boy, did you fail to prepare for such bluntness so early on.

“H-how the fuck- did you- know?” Choking on the sharp intake of the unmixed gin at the bottom of your cocktail, the calm approach you had rehearsed on the way over to the bar fell apart as your response came out as a desperate splutter of coughs and stutters.

Renjun threw you a sidelong look, chucking the pathetic remains of the stale popcorn at your figure, which you barely dodged.

“Because those horny fuckboys told me, how else?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, the accentuation of the word fuckboys making you feel rather defensive over your drunken behaviour, “Just for the record, I don’t usually go around sucking faces with every hot guy I see.”

“I never accused you of doing so.” 

A smug look settled on Renjun’s face, clearly amused by your unfortunate situation judging by the quirk of his lips as you reached for your drink once again. 

“You are insufferable.”

“So-” Renjun dragged on, resting his elbows against the tabletop, “Who was the better kisser, hm?”

The alcoholic concoction got caught in your throat once again, sending both you and your rapidly declining self-preservation into a downward spiral. The straightforwardness of the boy is one of the contributing factors, the rest being the rather vivid flashbacks of your liaisons a few nights prior. 

It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked about this before – in fact, you recalled it being one of the first questions shoved into your face when you picked up your friends’ calls. However, whether you gave them the answers they were desperately seeking for, you weren’t sure because simply. You weren’t exactly certain about how to answer it either.

“I cannot believe that you hooked up with both your childhood crushes and managed to mess up both interactions,” you remembered Shuhua splutter incredulously through your FaceTime call with the approving nods of the rest following shortly after.

“I just- how did you get the courage to pull the two hottest guys in our year whilst being the drunkest you had ever gotten?” 

“It was because I was the drunkest I had ever been,” you grumbled in response, rolling your eyes at your screen, “I wouldn’t have otherwise.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t hook up with them again?” 

You chose to remain silent for Ningning’s question, neither wanting to directly confirm or deny any theorised accusations which plagued your best friends’ minds, but, with the growing giddiness which reflected on their faces, you realised that no amount of silence could ever hide your real thoughts from your friends, prompting the passing notion that maybe the silence was actually meant for you and your restless little brain. 

Shaking away your thoughts, you turned back to Renjun, “Why are you so interested in this anyway?”

Renjun slurped the last droplets of his cocktail, eyebrows raised in amusement, “Well, aside from the fact that you chose my two best friends as your hookups for the night – which, may I add, coincidentally happens to be both your childhood crushes – Let’s just say those two aren’t exactly on good terms right now.”

Your lips parted from the straw, “Aren’t on good terms?”

As far as you remembered, the three of them had been best friends since early middle school – a fact that made you want to coil up into a shameful ball of nonexistence – you recalled seeing them on the soccer field at lunch, oftentimes doubling over themselves over something on Donghyuck’s phone or the rare exchanges of shy hellos and flustered smiles when they had met up with Mark as he dropped you off in front of your classroom. 

Despite the drift in friendship from your end, Mark’s friendship with Donghyuck had always seemed to remain close – which, considering their shared activities of partying, sports and residing in the same social circle, made sense.

Noticing your puzzlement towards his revelation, he added, “Believe it or not, they fought over the same girl a few months ago.” Renjun popped the fries in his mouth as if he wasn’t casually spilling his best friends' secrets to a girl he randomly reunited with a couple days ago, “which is funny because that’s literally what’s happening right now.”

You groaned, slinking further into the wooden seat with your head buried into your hands, “Great. So what you’re saying is that I’ve just further ruined your guys’ friendship because of some silly drunken mistake.”

“I guess you could say that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Oh, lovely. What a great reassurance to hear.”

“I was just offering my pure honesty, no harm intended.” 

The two of you slipped into a comfortable silence, ordering the last deserving round of the cheap happy hour cocktails before it was too late. As you waited for your orders to be delivered, Renjun spent the time scrolling through the photos of their drunken nights out, replaying the short clips of Donghyuck with a traffic cone over his head and his own unfortunate events of being rolled around the empty city in a stolen shopping cart.

With the number of snorts and giggles exchanged, it felt like no time had passed since your high school days – except for the increasing recklessness between both parties.

You began retelling your version of your nights out, from the gasps extracted as you mentioned witnessing a random street brawl in an alleyway to the disapproving tuts of his tongue about your case of being stranded on the side of a highway at three am. 

“You know Y/N? You really are the bringer of chaos.”

You could only chuckle in response as you reached for your phone, “Trust me, I’m not that bad.” 

However, as you unlocked your phone to read through your missed notifications for the evening, you realised that maybe you should fix your habit of making bad decisions whilst severely intoxicated, as what you found waiting on your lock screen served as a painful reminder of quite possibly your stupidest mistake yet.

Noticing your sudden change of demeanour, Renjun frowned, “Hey, is everything alright?”

You could only bat an eye, pushing your phone to his side of the table for him to read.

[ mark ] hey, what u up to?

[ donghyuck ] { image 1 } [ donghyuck ] wuju misses u :((

Yeah, you took it back. You really were the bringer of chaos.

a/n: bro u don't even understand.. this has been sitting in my wip docs for like more than a year😭 but i finally forced myself to write and post something on this app that wasn't a longass smau OIHFOIWEHF anyways thank you for reading!! don't hesitate to leave a comment and rb this post if you liked it🥲

taglist: @polarisjisung @wooyoung-a @w3bqrl @ficrecnctskz @rv7hsua @n0hyuck @neosdaisy @baekhyunstruly @rum-gone-why @dinonuguaegi @alethea-moon @klovmasworld @moonchele @chernabogsbiggestfan @xxxx-23nct @maeumiluv @produmads @shwizhies @dearlyminhyung @barbkh8450t @cupid-yuno @mxnhoeuwu @haechansbbg @sehunniepot @ujisworld

[purplecoffee13]

So I have unfortunately JUST found your page. I hate that I’d didn’t find it sooner! Slowly working my way through everything 🥰

I was wondering if you had any series recommendations for Harry? Nothing in particular, just wanted a series to lose myself in. Thanks!

Ahh I’m so glad you’re here!!! Hope you enjoy the stories🥰💞

There’s so many amazing authors on here!! I’ll give you my current favorite recs!!!

First of all:

favourite crime series by @harryslittlefreakk

this series is soooo good!!! Her writing skills are top tier I’m in awe of it + I have it on good authority that the upcoming chapters will have you clutching your pearls😋😏

La Villa Gialla & Paradiso Rosa by @temptress-writes

This is a two part one-shot but it has a total word count of 26k so it’ll keep you entertained🤭 but basically everything she writes is great I feel like each of them have singlehandedly altered my brain chemistry

One For The Money by @freedomfireflies

I am currently reading this series and I am absolutely obsessed I cannot believe I hadn’t read it before?! Smut is top tier and the dynamics have me smiling at my phone like an idiot teehee

In general, anything by these authors is amazing so you should definitely dig into their masterlists as well!😋

in the case that I’m a complete moron and you actually meant I recommend something of my own work, I would suggest you read:

nemesis with benefits

since it’s my longest series yet + it’s pretty spicy, and:

Mr. Sunshine

if you’re in the mood for something cuter

Hope this helps you along!!! Have fun reading!!🩷💞💘❤️🥰

[cluelessteam]

Whispers Through Time: {~A New Arrival~}

Summary: After being mysteriously transported into the world of House of the Dragon, a modern-day woman poses as a seer to gain entry into the Targaryen court. Armed with knowledge of the future, she secretly warns Rhaenyra and Daemon of looming dangers while hiding her true identity. As she grows closer to both, romantic tension builds, but so do the risks of her deception. With Daemon's suspicions rising and Rhaenyra’s trust deepening, the reader must navigate her lies while trying to alter their tragic fate—before everything unravels.

Characters: Rhaenyra & Daemon

Pairing: Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader x Daemon

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1293

Chapter 1 --- Chapter 2

The biting chill of the wind gnawed at your skin as you stumbled through an unfamiliar landscape, its vastness stretching out before you. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when the world around you had shifted, but the change was undeniable. Your memory still clung to the familiar buzz of the modern world—the sound of car engines, the hum of streetlights, and the constant tap of your shoes on concrete. But now, all that was gone, replaced by a stark silence that only heightened your disorientation. The horizon before you seemed endless, filled with tall hills covered in thick mist, and in the distance, a looming structure—a castle—stood proudly, its towers piercing the dreary sky.

This couldn’t be real. It felt too surreal, like a dream pulled from the pages of some historical fantasy novel. You had always been fascinated by the medieval period and Westeros in particular, but that fascination never prepared you for this. And yet, everything felt too vivid to be a dream—the sharpness of the cold, the heavy scent of damp earth, the distant call of gulls swooping down from the cliffs nearby.

Your breath caught in your throat, and a familiar panic began to rise. You could almost feel your heart pounding, each beat growing louder in your ears. Logic screamed that this couldn’t be happening. You were walking home after a long day, when—there! That light. The blinding flash that enveloped you and carried you here. You clenched your hands into fists, grounding yourself, and let the question form properly: Where am I?

Slowly, as you took in your surroundings, the faintest flicker of recognition sparked. That castle, those towers—it looked eerily familiar. The realization hit you hard, and your knees weakened. This was not just any castle, but one you had seen countless times in books, on screens. Westeros. You had somehow, impossibly, been transported to the world of the Targaryens, Velaryons, and the Seven Kingdoms.

"Gods…" you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you were calling to them or cursing them. How could this be possible?

Panic began to bubble up in your chest, but you bit it down. Now wasn’t the time to lose your head. Whatever force had brought you here, it clearly didn’t care about your confusion. You were stranded in a world you had no right to be in, with no clear path home. But you were nothing if not resourceful, and survival instinct kicked in fast. First things first: you needed a cover story.

You looked down at your clothing—your jacket, jeans, and shoes entirely inappropriate for this world. You’d stick out like a sore thumb if you didn’t do something, and quickly. And then, as if fate wanted to test you immediately, you noticed a figure making their way toward you—a villager, maybe, wrapped in furs, their weathered face twisted in confusion at the sight of you.

Without hesitation, you pulled the hood of your jacket up, hiding as much of your appearance as possible, and let an idea form. You needed to be someone important, someone with a skill that would grant you entry into the castle ahead. You thought of the people in this world—superstitious, often lacking in medical knowledge, and prone to reverence for those who claimed to possess sight beyond the ordinary.

A midwife. A seer.

That was the way in. You straightened up, quickly rehearsing a story in your head. You could remember enough of the history of this time—enough about the impending conflicts and players involved—to convince someone of your abilities. And if you could do that, you might just survive.

The villager had reached you by now, his eyes flicking over your strange attire, suspicion evident in his gaze.

"You… you lost, stranger?" His accent was thick, the words harsh against the wind. He looked you up and down, frowning deeper as he noticed your modern shoes.

Clearing your throat, you adopted the air of someone who belonged here, someone important. "I’ve come from far away," you began, your voice steady, "I am a midwife, and a gifted seer. I’ve been summoned—by fate itself—to serve the realm."

His eyes narrowed. "A seer, eh? And who exactly called ye?"

You squared your shoulders. "Not who. What." You let the pause linger, allowing the weight of your words to sink in. "There are things at play in this world that go beyond your understanding. I see them—glimpses of what’s to come. And I’ve come to ensure the safety of those in power, to warn them of the dangers that await if they do not heed my counsel."

The villager hesitated, doubt still clouding his expression, but he seemed unsure now, weighing your words. Superstition held great power in this world, and the idea of turning away someone who claimed to have foresight was a dangerous gamble. Finally, with a curt nod, he motioned to the road leading toward the castle. "You’ll want to speak to the men at the gates, then. They'll decide if yer needed."

You gave a small nod in return, keeping your expression controlled, though relief washed over you. You began to walk, your thoughts racing. You had taken the first step, but getting into the castle was just the beginning. Once there, you would need to convince people far more powerful and skeptical than a simple villager. Rhaenyra, Daemon, the Velaryons… the very people who would shape the future of Westeros.

As you approached the castle’s towering gates, the sheer size of the fortress became overwhelming. The walls stretched upward, casting long shadows over the ground. Your breath quickened as the guards came into view—men clad in armor, their hands resting on swords as they watched you approach. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

One of the guards stepped forward, his face stern beneath his helmet. "State your business," he demanded, his voice rough and authoritative.

"I am a midwife," you repeated, keeping your voice steady. "A seer. I have been sent here to serve the realm, to offer counsel to those in power." You met his gaze directly, hoping to convey confidence. "I see things—glimpses of what’s to come. And I know that there are dangers on the horizon. I must speak with those who rule, for their own safety."

The guard raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "A seer, eh? You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word at face value. We get all kinds at these gates."

You expected resistance, and you had your response ready. "I understand your doubt, but let me offer you this—" You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. "There will be an attempt on the life of someone in power here soon. It will come from within, not without. If I am wrong, you may throw me to the wolves. But if I am right, you will have failed in your duty to protect this castle."

The guard’s expression faltered for just a moment, a flicker of uncertainty passing across his features. He glanced at his fellow guards, then back at you. Finally, with a curt nod, he stepped aside. "I’ll let the master-at-arms know. If you’re lucky, you’ll get your audience."

You stepped through the gates, your pulse quickening. Inside, the castle was a maze of stone corridors, each more imposing than the last. Servants moved quickly through the halls, and you kept your head down, trying to appear as if you belonged.

Your mind raced with the enormity of what lay ahead. You needed to get close to the right people—people who would believe your story. And the first name that came to mind was Rhaenyra Targaryen. The heir to the Iron Throne, a woman of strength and ambition. If you could win her trust, you’d have a chance.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 7 Part 2/2

Masterpost

His hotel was 23 dollars-a-night. Air: stale. Carpet: faded. Receptionist: disliked all of them personally. 

“It’s extra to have guests!” He barked after them. He looked at Cass in particular when she came out from behind the men and he could see that she had a Black Bat face on. He paused.

“There is no fee,” Cass said, and glided past him.

The receptionist quietly cursed, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Damn,” Stinkyman RudeWizard said quietly to himself. “Maybe I oughta spend more time with Bats. You have a real talent for ending conversations.”

“I bite,” Cass said serenely. It wasn’t a threat. Just providing information. Not relevant information. She would not bite him. He was stinky.

Stinkyman was quiet until he unlocked the door. “Well, come in do-gooders and creeps of the night.” He somehow managed to flourish with with bare arm. Cass swept in underneath without touching him, just to flex. 

Captain Marvel waited politely for Stinkyman to move before he entered. “We ran into a situation the other day that we hope you can comment on.” Wow, business mode. So tall of him. Sudden professionalism. “We encountered an artifact that appeared to be scientific in design, in a location that was heavily contaminated with Death magic.”

Black Bat nodded agreement.

The wizard made a face. “And what did this artifact do?” He sounded exhausted.

“Electrocuted me,” Black Bat said, putting on her mission mind a little more firmly. No fear. No horror. “Had an involuntary transformation.”

“Tranformation into what?” stinkyman asked, reluctantly interested. “A normal bird?”

“She had a costume change and her physiological signs seemed to be altered for the duration of the transformation.” Marvel saved her. He lied a little by implication. She was grateful.

“What ended it?” He was looking her over carefully. He had gone through his own transformation into a responsible, thoughtful professional. Probably it was the money that did it. Cass mentally counted the bills she had left. She was more than willing to pay him to stop being annoying. 

“I was able to trigger the detransformation on purpose.” She had to sound that sentence out carefully so that the syllables didn’t turn into mush and tumble away, but this was important. 

Stinkyman nodded thoughtfully. “Try to trigger it the other way,” he suggested. He clamped his cigarette down on one side of his mouth. “I need to see what I’m working with before I can give you any assessment.”

Cass scrunkled up her face, unhappy like Alfred the cat when it was dry food. “I’ll try the inverse.” She closed her eyes and thought about what it had been to be White Bat. Her heart had been still and empty in her chest. Her body moved easily, no aches and pains. Lightning thrummed in her veins. 

She held the feeling in her mind and said, “White Bat,” under her breath.

Light flashed over the room. When it receded, she saw that Stinkyman was shading his face and scowling. “You’re an Infinite Realms being,” he diagnosed dryly. He let his cigarette drop carefully from his mouth and fall onto the shitty hotel carpet. Absently he stepped on it, as if this was a muscle habit.

“...What?” White Bat asked. 

The wizard shot her a lopsided grin that was almost handsome. “You’ve got ghosts in your blood. Want cocaine?”

“No one is going to be doing any drugs!” Marvel put his hands up and his tone high. “Haven’t you seen the PSAs about that? You do that and then your teeth fall out!” Genuine stress. Concern. Don’t hurt yourself!

“Thank you,” White Bat said. “Yes. No drugs.” She addressed that to Stinkyman. “Infinite Realms being?” she repeated. “I’m an earth being. Born and raised here.”

“And died here.” Constantine fished another cigarette out and lit it up. “You clearly have control over the transformation, so… might not be any repercussions if you avoid thinking about the metaphysical. Just go back to Black Bat and never think about it again. Or…” He appeared to have a new idea. He looked at her. Shifty. Curious. Could I benefit?

Died? Died here? Her brain skipped like Alfred’s records after Damian threw them for Titus to get revenge for the establishment of bedtime laws..

“What?” Cass said flatly. She crossed her arms. No blood moving in her veins. It was less upsetting the second time. At least it was not a surprise. 

Stinkyman looked sly. “If you want to look into it, we’ll have to go to the Infinite Realms. Hard for humans to get there, of course, but things like you are right now, well.” He gestured at her as if it was self-explanatory. “I’ll help you get there if you take me along with you. There’s something I’d like to pick up from hell.”

“From hell?” Marvel stressed. He thundered his face at the wizard. He looked intimidating. “We’re going. I’m not going to let you use Black Bat for whatever weird bet or gamble you have going on.” 

Cass blinked, impressed by his scaryface. She didn’t know he could do that. She inhaled through her nose and went back to Black Bat. It was… easy.

The wizard put his hands up in faux innocence and smirked. “It’s an offer, you can take or leave it. Anyway, you have my opinion,” he addressed Black Bat. “You died, Black Bird, I can only assume after touching something that clearly ought not have been fucked with. Can’t tell you offhand why you’re still walking the earth, but you’re not a revenant, ghoul, or other obvious fuckery that I care to banish. You look as human as me.” He flopped down on his motel bed. “Shut the door on the way out, that’s a love. But feel free to call me if you want to find out more.”

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Trouble In The Garden- Loki x Reader

Summary: Seems Thors human friend stumbled upon some old plants of Asgard, and Loki is forced to help the gorgeous naked human.

Word count: 1, 751

Though Loki loathed having to live in Asgard once again, he couldn’t help the admiration and enchantment he felt when looking at the stunning flowers that filled the gardens. Though he was no longer in a cell, he still felt trapped in Asgard and pretty much confined himself to the library or his room.

Loki would love nothing more than to be in the library right now, but since Thor had brought you to Asgard, you seemed to make it your mission to annoy him. Every time he tried to get some peace and quiet, he could hear your infuriating voice or laughter. Just yesterday he went to the library, seeing you were no where in sight, but the library was exactly where he found you. You had ruined his haven, so to the gardens he went.

There were many gardens in Asgard, but the ones Loki walked were some of the oldest. Though a lot of the garden had been forgotten and seemingly lost to time, the flowers still seemed to bloom perfectly.

Loki had begun to bend down to admire a particular flowers beauty, but as with the library, it seemed he was interrupted by an awful scream.

Rolling his eyes, Loki was beginning to become fed up with his lack of peace and quiet. Abruptly straightening himself, he began to storm over to the source of the continued wailing noise.

Walking past rows of lush flora, he found himself at the back gate of the garden. His brow furrowed in a quizzical look as he unlatched the gate and walked through.

This certain part of Asgard had been discarded for a long time, mainly full of dangerous and poisonous plants. Of course Loki himself knows the area well, but many others would not even think to venture here.

Walking closer to the source of the wailing, it began to sound more animalistic, like growls and pants instead of human type screams. The closer his feet carried him to the source of the sound, the more he realised where his feet were taking him.

Though this part of Asgard held many dangers, it also held things that if used correctly, could be quite enjoyable. Going through the dangerous parts of this area would lead to what some Asgardians would refer to as the ‘party plants’.

They were plants that weren’t used as commonly anymore, but Loki had grown familiar with a few of them when he was younger. Psychedelics and mood altering plants were the main ones, but from the direction he was going, he knew that the growling came from a plant used for other means.

This plant was one that shut down inhibitions and raised libido. Again, Loki had definitely enjoyed this certain plants at times and began to chuckle to himself thinking of what pleasure this poor person could be craving.

His smirk however turned to a look of shock as he noticed that the person affected was actually you, Thors friend, Thors human friend.

“Oh no.” He muttered to himself, watching your naked form writhe on the forest floor.

While such a plant is fun for Asgardians, it is still very strong, and for a human, it could possibly be deadly.

You may infuriate Loki at times, but he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought of you in a less than innocent way. He often tried to ignore you, but he did often find himself staring and possibly even fantasising.

So to see you now, completely naked, covered in sweat with a distinct wetness covering your thighs, well he didn’t mind being the hero in this case.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He softly asked as he gingerly approaches.

He knees down and places a soft hand on your shoulder, trying hard not to stare at your gorgeous body as he does so.

Since the moment the flower had affected you, you felt your brain was in this foggy haze, you barely even realised Loki was approaching you. Once his skin touched yours however, it was like the fog immediately vanish and your whole body and mind filled with need and heat.

Your eyes flung open at the contact, revealing dark orbs where your once bright eyes were. An almost hiss left your lips as you pounced onto Loki, knocking him to his back with a new enhanced strength.

Once you had him pinned with your thighs straddling his hips, you wasted no time in ripping his green tunic right down the middle. You tear at the back of the tunic as you leave vicious kisses and bites all over his neck and chest.

“Y-y/n, stop.. I- I can help yoouu aawwhh.” He moaned out, the mix of both your kisses and grinding becoming too much for him.

“I know you can.” You smirk down at the god below you devilishly, as you tug his head back with a handful of hair at his scalp.

Wasting no time, you shove your lips down onto Lokis in a messy and desperate kiss. All effort of wanting to help you in any other way is lost with your dominating actions and powerful kiss.

Moaning into the kiss, Lokis hands grab onto your bare hips tightly, as he pushes you to grind harder against him.

His skin on yours lights that desperate and primitive fire in you once again. Breaking the desperate kiss, you can’t help but let out a loud shouting moan. Pushing your breasts against his now exposed chest, you can’t help but need to feel more of him.

Licking at his pale chest, it’s like you’re possessed as you push your body and your face further down his body. Quickly reaching his matching green linen pants, you rip them off his body too, exposing his large and desperate cock to you.

Finally seeing what you’d been rubbing against and craving, you let out a loud and desperate whining moan.

Licking one long strip up his cock, Loki shudders below you as he begins to rise. Pushing him down with your new enhanced strength, your black eyes meet his green.

Staring at him like a lion would its prey, Loki surprisingly begins to feel both intimidated and extremely aroused. He’s never wanted someone to ruin him so much as he wants you to right now.

Growling once again, your hand shoots up to his throat, holding him down as you once again straddle his hips. Now with your bare pussy coming into contact with his hard cock, you feel that need again, as you desperately grind against him.

“I need you, Loki.” You choke out, the heightened pleasure almost feeling too good.

“Take what you need from me, darling. I am here but to serve you.” He chokes out.

Loki surprises himself, finding how much he really does enjoy a submissive role. He doesn’t know what’s come over him but with you above him like this, he would give you anything and allow you to control him however you pleased. In this state he was nothing and you were everything, a mad and hungry goddess who he wishes to please and have nothing in return.

The wicked smile that appears on your face causes a choked moan to leave Lokis desperate parted lips.

With both the hunger that the pollen has given you, and the way it has made your pussy drenched, you waste no time in sinking down onto Lokis massive cock.

As soon as he fills you up, you immediately begin to harshly bounce, grind and rock against your lover. Your hands dig into his shoulders with a strength that begins to hurt, but Loki finds he likes it. His hands grab at your hips once again and this only causes you to howl out even louder at the way his touch sets your skin alight.

Looking down at him, the more you draw your pleasure from him, the more your eyes begin to turn back to their regular colour. Your grip on his shoulders loosen and the affects of the pollen seem to wear off the closer you are to your release.

Loki never breaks his eye away from you, feeling like they draw him in. While keeping your eye, his fingers make their way from your hip, to your clit, lightly rubbing it. It’s only as Loki makes contact with your clit do your eyes finally close and your head is thrown back.

As Lokis fingers speed up, your movements become sloppier and less powerful.

“I’m gonna cum! Please Loki cum with me! Fill me up please! I need to feel you! Oooohhh!” You desperately beg to the god below you.

Though your dominating actions have begun to die down, Loki still sees you as a goddess, and he still wishes to serve you.

“Doing so well, my gorgeous darling. Making me feel so good. You gonna cum with me, my queen?” He pants out below you.

“Yes! Yes! Yeeesss! Oooohh Looookkkii!!” You scream out to the canopy of trees above you as a powerful orgasm washes over your body.

Lokis release follows immediately, as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours with a growl. You however were too exhausted to realise, and by the time he came down, he saw you were asleep peacefully on his chest.

*****

By the time you awoke again, you noticed you were in a large comfortable bed, your skin clean and you wore new clothes. Pieces of the event came back to you and once you saw Loki come through the door with tea and food, it all came back at once.

Looking into his eyes, you were no longer that powerful and dominating force, instead you resembled more of a timid animal.

Loki smiled at you softly as he brought a tray of tea and sweets to you.

“How are you feeling?” He quietly asked.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have done that I’m s-so sorry.” You began to plead at as tears began to brim in your eyes.

“No no no. Ssshh ssshhh. It’s okay, darling.” He gently soothed at his hand stroked along your cheek.

Closing your eyes, you let out a shuddering sigh, his touch enough to put you at ease.

“I quite enjoyed it, and I wanted to take care of you, both then…. and now.” Loki shyly admitted as you stare lovingly at each other.

Staring into his eyes, a memory of something he’d said made a smirk appear on your face.

“So, your queen huh?”

[togglesbloggle]

Insofar as I have a principled position on the matter- and I don’t, not really- it’s this: art does have the ability to alter our values and our way of interpreting the world. It’s absolutely a live grenade, and should be taken seriously as such.

Like, of course it does! Probably you can point to some book, some film, some story somewhere that touched you not just deeply but irrevocably. There are moments of aesthetic experience which give a before and after to our lives, just as surely as moments of extraordinary suffering or extraordinary joy can.

I’m lucky enough to have more than a few I can list off, personally. Profoundly transformative ones like Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited or the music of John Cage, sure. But maybe even more interesting (tractable?) to me were small moments of grace like the one I found in the Dragonlance novels by Weis and Hickman: the dark wizard Raistlin Majere wove back and forth across the line between ‘hero’ and ‘villain’ in exactly such a way that, after reading his books at a young age, I immediately and quite distinctly overcame my fear of the dark.

What a wonderful thing for a book to do! I’d be hard-pressed to explain exactly how, if only because I’m such a different person now than I was then. Perhaps your own intuition will bridge the gap a bit. It was all tied up with this distinction between good and evil, you see, and with the ability to stare in to the face of evil things without flinching, to understand that they have contingency and history just like good things do, and to be in some sense in community with them.

That was a long, long time ago, and I don’t think my model of the world even has evil in it any more, not in the sense that I believed in it then. But my fear of the dark never came back, either.

I don’t believe for a minute that Weis and Hickman had any idea that they were giving me that gift in particular, nor did they have any sensible means to achieve such a goal even if they somehow wanted to. It wasn’t a transformation mediated by intent, you know? It didn’t reduce to an argument that I believed or disbelieved in some intellectual way, or to some specific controlled experience that the authors had planned for me.

Art is transformative, but not in the way that effective polemic is transformative. It doesn't (principally) reason with us or persuade us. Rather, I think art is dangerous for the same reasons that travel to a foreign country is dangerous, or a friendship with somebody new is dangerous. It threatens us by expanding our conscious history to include new categories of experience, that is, by changing the context in which we go about the business of living.

It's wrong to think of art mostly as a tug-of-war dragging hapless consumers from one ideology to another, with the victory going to whichever faction can fill the algorithm with mass-produced and doctrinally compliant stories clamoring endlessly for their views. Normalization has its power, don't get me wrong, but there will always be far greater power in a single glimpse over the horizon.

Think about Whoopi Goldberg's account of seeing Nichelle Nichol's Uhura on television:

“Well, when I was nine years old Star Trek came on. I looked at it and I went screaming through the house, ‘Come here, mum, everybody, come quick, come quick, there’s a black lady on television and she ain’t no maid!’ I knew right then and there I could be anything I wanted to be.”

Once. It took one time, and the walls fell away, and everything was possible. The fashions and approved styles may come and go with the seasons, but the outer perimeter of our experiences, and the sense of what the world could be, can only ever grow, and sometimes it grows by leaps and bounds in an instant.

I guess this is why I tend to think of censorship and control over media as basically quixotic. Sure, with enough energy you can control what's normal and what's public, but controlling what's possible is an exercise in futility on a grand scale. You can never win that fight, only lose it fast or slow.

We all have this remarkably unpredictable collection of soft places and hard places: some things in us that deform to match the shape of their environment, and other things that break us before they can bend. And we all try to find a way to make these strange shapes work within the limits of our own experience and the world as we understand it. Some of us thrive in communities and cultures where others die gasping, and some of us spend our entire lives trying to smash through excruciating barriers that others can't even detect.

Art is one of the things that expands those limits, gives the strange creature inside us a little bit of room to stretch and grow and find a space for the hard bits to arrange themselves as they need to be. But it can't do that without changing the soft parts as well, because the soft parts need external force to maintain their shape. Socialization and ideology can only weakly bind us, because they rely on deliberate and conscious pressures to conform; ignorance is stronger, because it denies us the choice altogether. Without art, you'll never really be able to learn what kind of animal you are, as opposed to the kind of person your world has told you to be. But art will change you, too, as discovery always will.

The life you have now has real value- great beauty, and great meaning. For all that you are defined in part by the walls of your cage, knowledge and new experiences are not something to accept lightly, and they can never be undone. All I can say, really, is that I've never once regretted it.