#like he got you lunch from across the globe because he can do it

[tteokdoroki]

thinking about gojo who shows up at your office with flowers and lunch because your coworkers don’t believe you have a boyfriend

[neiptune]

i got nothing to believe unless you're choosing me

cw: 2k wc, blank blogs don't interact, hurt no comfort (ish), something is wrong and tobio can't quite put his finger on it, excuse the angst i promise i like him

Kageyama Tobio has never been particularly skilled at picking up on social cues but he’s certainly learned how to read your cues. It doesn’t mean he knows how to properly voice his concerns.

Your shoulders are tense when he describes how the training is going in agonizingly specific detail over dinner, the inflection clothing your good morning and have a good day hasn’t been particularly warm or affectionate lately, even when his body felt heavy from muscle fatigue, as if he was trying to move through mud, but he still suggested a comfortable movie night on the couch, you refused and went to bed early because you were tired. What could be possibly tiring you?

Tobio doesn’t mean to be an asshole but knows he can easily come off as one, so he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t get annoyed when you anticipate his usual goodbye kisses by briefly pressing your lips to his cheek, doesn’t investigate further when you start suspiciously timing your morning showers just perfectly to miss the exact moment he usually heads out. You still make him breakfast and pack his lunch and reply to his texts and pick up when he calls.

But you barely touch him anymore and it’s with a heavy heart that Tobio realizes that it’s almost never him that initiates physical contact anyway. It’s easy to melt in your hands and nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck and tighten his arms around your frame once you climb on top of him or gently cradle his face or start running your fingers through his hair.

You ask questions and reply when he asks about your day, friends, family, but you don’t smile as often and when you do it doesn’t even reach your eyes. He doesn’t remember the last time he heard your laugh.

There’s a weird feeling infiltrating his heart and it sucks that Tobio only realizes something is wrong when focusing becomes increasingly hard. He doesn’t see the ball or the court just as clearly, can’t think of how to run his team’s offense, suddenly forgets all the Italian vocabulary he’s worked so hard to master.

There’s an odd emotion that clutches his chest, it’s cold and it scares him because he knows that, whatever it may be, it’s his fault. Somehow, he has disappointed you. You, of all people. The person who moved across the freaking globe to support his career, who accepted to leave family and friends and life behind out of nothing but love. Fuck. What did he do? How did he do it?

Tobio wants to ask but he doesn’t know how. And suddenly his world seems on the edge of shattering, so much that he thinks leaving you alone and giving you time to figure it out on your own isn’t exactly proving to be a successful strategy. You’re drifting away and Tobio isn’t sure you aren’t already where he cannot reach you.

The apartment you share is significantly close to the gym and it came fully furnished. Yet you insisted on adding some little personal touches, dragging him to ikea over the weekend and asking him opinions on napkins, bath mats, duvet covers, dish towels. You’ve never been one of those people who ask for someone else’s thoughts only to follow your own taste in the end and that is why he actually felt invested enough to pick things he actually liked, albeit hesitating, hyper aware of just how differently you would’ve picked. But you never once faltered as he pointed towards the less exciting, not really colorful options.

“You’re back early” is the soft greeting Tobio gets as he takes his shoes off, leaves the gym bag by the door because he knows if he’s a second too late the courage will melt away and leave him a sweaty, timid, confused coward.

“I’m not very hungry but we have some leftovers you can heat up” your eyes have only shortly darted to him before settling on the show you’re watching on tv once more.

“I was hoping we could talk” he feels a weird lump in his throat and suddenly swallowing seems hard. Is his voice coming out weird too? It feels weird. Like he’s watching the whole scene from the outside, you turning to look at him as he mechanically makes his way to the couch, sits reasonably afar from you.

You look at him with what feels a weird mix of apprehension and distress. Are you anticipating the topic? Would you have preferred to be the one to bring this all up? But just how much longer did you want him to wait, exactly?

The tv is turned off.

“Yeah. Yes, we should talk”

Tobio recalls feeling nervous a couple of times in his life, maybe the worst anxiety he’s ever felt was the one creeping onto him the night before the 2021 Tokyo olympics. But this? This feels so much worse. It’s dreadful. There’s no outcome he can predict, only one he can pray against.

“Something is wrong and I want to know what it is” he knows he’s picked the wrong words, the wrong tone, from the sigh you heave. “I mean, I feel that something isn’t right. Please tell me how to fix it” and then, much more quietly, “I miss you”.

Your eyes soften at that but, much to his horror, also fill with fresh tears.

He’s made you cry before. Out of anger, frustration, petty arguments, sharp edged comebacks. But right in this moment Tobio feels you’re about to tell him there’s nothing to fix anymore, that it’s too late. Those are the kind of tears he’s never made you shed.

“What did I do?” his uniform sticks uncomfortably to his sweaty back, he didn’t shower in order to get home as fast as he could.

“You didn’t do anything, Tobio”

Well, that’s not exactly the truth, but he didn’t do anything out of the ordinary. Nothing you haven’t been used to throughout the years spent together.

“Please. I really want to understand” it scares me he wants to add.

“This is nothing I can hold you accountable for. It’s always been like this, after all”

“What has always been like this?”

“My place in your life” you smile sadly with a slight shrug of the shoulders “I always come second. It’s fine, I know I do, really. I guess it has just been weighing extra heavy lately”

Tobio blinks once, twice, genuinely surprised and even more confused. “I love you” he articulates slowly, as if to express what should be the most obvious thing on earth “the only person I love as much as you is my sister. But it’s different, she’s family”

“I would never expect you to love me more than it” you carry on as if he never interrupted “volleyball was there first, I get it. Please know I actually get it. But it’s just… not always easy”

Tobio gets that feeling he sometimes gets when trying to fall asleep, the oh-no-I’m-plummeting-from-a-fucking-skyscraper one. His body jerks the same way, an involuntary contraction to the last words he was expecting to hear. “I don’t understand” because volleyball is different too. It’s a comparison his brain can’t process the right way. You’re the person he’s in love with, volleyball is the one thing he has dedicated his entire life to. He doesn’t dare put you both on a scale.

“I know you don’t” you reply softly, cheeks now stained with tears that put a knife through his heart “and maybe it’s on me because what else did I expect?”

“I love you” Tobio scoots closer now, takes your hands in his “I will be better at proving you how much I love you” it sounds desperate and pathetic even to him as you shake your head.

“And I love you, Tobio. But you’re just… never here. You’re either training or staying for extra trainings or on the road or playing, always playing. You forgot my birthday, which is no big deal because I know how tired you were and it’s not like it hasn’t happened before. But then you forgot our anniversary. You forget the promises you make. You don’t come home for dinner or meet me at the restaurant or pick up the groceries. You can barely keep your eyes open while I tell you about my day” he watches you choke up on your words and it’s like someone is toppling a bucket of iced water over his head. So he was right. It is his fault. But he did worse than disappointing you, he hurt you.

“I just think… I need to go home for a while. I miss my family, I miss my friends. And, well…”

“I promised we’d travel home for our anniversary” he murmurs, realization hurting his chest and twisting his insides. He tightens his hold over your hands.

“Yeah” you offer another grim smile “yeah, you did”

Tobio has no idea how to fix any of this. He just knows he might lose you forever if you step on that plane without him and the thought alone is enough to make his eyes fill with tears too. “Don’t go. Please, I’ll make arrangements, take some time off, and we can go together. I promise-” he shuts his eyes the second the word leaves his mouth, disgusted. This is what he has sounded like for the past months. He feels sick.

“I have my ticket ready. I need to go alone, I think it will do me good” your thumb travels over his uncharacteristically chapped knuckles “I might even surprise Suga at his school”

But all Tobio hears is that you’re leaving. Without him. “Don’t do this. I need you” he flinches when you free one of your hands to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.

“I don’t think that’s true, Tobio. I think you have one priority in your life and that it’s unfair to ask everyone else to be okay with being eternal seconds”

“I don’t love it more than I love you” he bites “it’s a fucking stupid comparison. It’s a sport and you’re a person”

“Would you stop playing if I asked you to?”

He stays silent, petrified. That question also feels unfair and so unlike you. “You would never do such thing”

You chuckle but there’s no actual humor in your laugh. It’s empty and so exhausted. “You’re right, I’d never. But that still isn’t the answer I would’ve hoped to get”

“So what, if I don’t give up on my entire life it means I don’t love you enough? Is this the yardstick by which you’ll decide if you’ll break up with me or not?” he hopes he seems angry because he’s desperate more than anything else. He feels inadeguate and, for the first time, wrong for you. Like you’re a perfect match but a one-sided one. Could he ever be a match for anyone, honestly?

“But I did give up on my entire life, didn’t I?” you lean forward, press your forehead to his shoulder because looking into his pained eyes is torture “for something that now feels like the shell of what we once had. You say you miss me but I’ve been missing you for far longer, Tobio”

He aches for the way your body shakes as you try to muffle your sobs, his arms around you don’t feel nearly enough. Tobio wishes he could rip his chest cavity open and tuck you inside, right next to what’s sure is a bruised heart. Maybe then you’d believe how deeply sorry he is. Maybe then you’d feel loved once more, you’d be safe from his selfishness.

“Don’t leave me” Tobio whispers it into your neck, lips grazing your skin. He wants to be better, knows he can be better. “I wouldn’t be who I am without you”

“I don’t want to stay and end up hating this, or you. I want to shield the love I have for you and I can’t do that if I stay here. It's like I'm... fading” your voice isn’t but a murmur “you understand, right, Tobio?”

He shuts his eyes, time and space and his house and the room you’re both in cease to exist. He doesn't. But he thinks the least he can offer, at this point, is understanding.

“Yes. I do”

[siennablaze219]

@daily-writing-challenge - May 2024 - Day 5 - spicy

Two Shirts

Deiala Vyneaniux was a little odd, it wasn’t her fault really, she had been born to a woman who translated and copied arcane texts, her babysitters had covers and pages, not smiles and baked treats. At the age of six she picked up a book her mother had set aside in a pile, settling onto a cushion she began to read. When her mother came back in with Dei’s lunch and lemonade the young girl was speaking fluent demonic and more than half way to summoning a demon. Her mother slammed the book shut but the runes and circle remained, frantically the mage sent a message to the city. Within an hour a huge man joined them, he was well over six feet with broad shoulders and a round stomach, his hair was neatly styled and he had great mutton shop sideburns. Her mother handed him the book, then loked at Dei, the circle and then the runes, finally he turned on the child. “You did this?”

“Yes, sir,” Dei answered softly.

Her mother peered at the man frantically, “Brendan, please, can you help her? There are no warlocks in my line, it had to be her father.”

The man, Brendan, had almost sneered at the question, then he picked up the book and shoved it at Dei. “Read page 112.”

The young child took the book quietly and opened it, going over the page once, then she began to read aloud, runes swirled around her head, expanding and turning faster, enclosing her in a globe of green and purple runes.

“Enough,” he barked at the six year old. Brendan then spoke softly and the bubble popped. Still looking down at Dei, “I will teach her, but you have to sign her care over to me and she will now live with me and study. There can be no outer temptations to distract her.”

Her mother had barely protested before the stranger led Dei away as she cried, reaching back towards the tower calling to her mother. Soon she was away from her home and Brendan was tugging a suddenly limp child through Elwynn Forest. Another person might carry a child in that circumstance but not this hard man, he would just reach back and snag the collar of the coat she was wearing using it to force her to catch up.

She was settled in his house, he bought her clothes he considered appropriate for his ward, he installed her into a room decorated in cool colors across from him in the house. There were no toys, she was not allowed to run in the house, and not allowed outside except when they walked to Brendan’s book store. At the store he began tutoring her and molding her to one day replace him.

This was the pattern of the child’s life until she was seventeen, when she cared for a sickly Brendan until he passed away. The house became hers. The shop became hers. And all she had to fall back on was how he raised her so she remained exactly who he raised her to be. A woman proper in the way he thought she should be. A woman that dressed in a manner that was made to be unnoticeable or so odd, people ignored her. A woman that walked from the house to the store and back, day in and day out. A woman that was convinced she was too plain for anyone to notice, which was good because then she would have no distractions.

That remained her life until, at the age of 22, she decided to reach out to a company that did acquisitions so she could find a way to get some books she heard of in places she could not go to alone. She walked into the Pig and Whistle and while she stood near the doorway she decided to take a road she never would have before. When she left the establishment she had joined the company with the understanding that she didn’t know what she could really do to help them but she would try.

That had led to Dei becoming a bit more worldly, it started with some of the discussions on the comms, Deiala even bought a pair of pants to go on a mission, she felt like people were going to start pointing at her and laughing. They didn’t and she got through everything but that mission made her feel like maybe she didn’t belong there.

For five months she went back to her normal way of life, until her life was flipped sideways. It wasn’t just one thing but a multitude, one of those came when she went to the World’s Faire Carnival with some of the company. On the last night she went to watch the entertainment and it happened. One of the most beautiful men she had ever seen performed an act while wearing tight red leather pants and swinging a whip around.

While she stood there staring, her comms became very active with chatter about her reaction to the performer. The man she was dating started teasing her on their private channel, telling her all sorts of things about leather and whips. By that point the incredibly intelligent, normally verbose woman’s brain turned to jelly.

A number of weeks later a flyer was posted for the company, it talked about an adults only show, Dei’s closest friend decided they should go for a girl’s night out. The book seller had no idea about what a show like that may entail, but agreed to meet her friend there. Her friend did not make it, highlighting Dei’s luck, and by the time the show started she stood transfixed until it was over.

Having no one to really talk to about the different things with, as her boyfriend had left, Dei did what she always did and began researching. Everything from the man with the act in the water to the whip and bondage acts were looked up, cataloged in her brain and a decision was made to go to more shows to study her reactions in these categories.

She heard about an adult night at the festival held by the Hearts of Tenacity, she went alone and sat at the edge of a stage. Before the performances she wanted to see began, Kolja, a Druid she knew from the city, caught her attention and they began to chat quietly.

Once the Talicious show started she was so engrossed in the discussion that she missed more than one act, but then she heard his name, the one from the World’s Faire. Her head turned slowly towards the stage and her eyes widened. The druid whispered in her ear something but she did not even hear the half-elf, her eyes were locked on Dicenne. The dance and the act made her mouth go dry, then the unthinkable happened, the elven man tore off his shirt and threw it at her. It landed on her shoulder and her mouth dropped open.

Dei didn't remember the rest of the act, nor what followed and she couldn’t even move to arrange the shirt somewhere less obvious. She, once again, was struck dumb and it wasn’t until another act was on stage that Kolja next to her chuckled sexily, “Seems you like hot elves Deiala.” He leaned in to whisper, “A shame to only have one shirt, here have another.” The wicked man pulled off his shirt, took the one that had been thrown to her and settled them both in her lap.

The rest of the night was a haze and at the end of the rave she went home with two men’s shirts…she had come a long way from how she was raised.

(Thank you for the inspiration @dicenne

[your-fave-adopted-you]

I've been thinking about this all day so here you go.

listen. Yuu, but make her Haruhi from Ouran highschool host club.

(Also don't mind the word "potion" showing up 100000 times)

Guardian! School Staff and a fem!MC that transforms into a guy daily, in order to attend school.

Characters : Crowley, Crewel, Trein, Ashton, Sam

TW : Crowley being questionable

afab! MC

Context : the NRC is an institution full of diversity! A place where people from all around the globe, with different social status and even people that aren't even human can study.

Not women tho.

For some reason, since you arrived there was no trace of female presence, not even within the school staff. This is a boys only school, ofc, the problem is that

you're not a boy.

Just the fact that you come from another world, and that the mirror didn't assign you to any dorm brought enough unwanted attention towards you.

Dire Crowley

The first one to know.

Because he was literally the first person you came across once you appeared.

Haha, sorry, but you can't stay here.

we don't even have girl uniforms!

but. you didn't choose to come here.

eventually, he gives in,

You can stay at Ramshackle and yadda yadda you know how it goes.

HOWEVER people shouldn't know about your true gender.

if it was known that a girl actually attended classes at Night Raven, then people would demand for more opportunities for female mages to study there!

but Crowley isn't planning on making it a co-ed any time soon.

He proposes that you take shapeshifting potions regularly, and live as boy, like everyone else.

At first you don't like this idea because, he's kinda conditioning you.

But you never actually cared that much about how others perceived you, gender-wise at least.

So you (reluctantly) accept this offer.

Also he will be your guardian in this world from now on, he's gotta keep an eye on you.

Even when everyone perceives you as a boy, he's very protective of you.

"Oh! y/n! my sweet little princess- PRINCE HAHA, YEAH i need another favor-"

stuff like this happens 20 times a day.

it doesn't matter if you're tall or petite, a tomboy or coquette. After week 1 he got VERY attached and now you're his sweet little princess.

mostly asks you to stay away from the leech bothers and some Savanaclaw students because he doesn't want to die of a heart attack.

Divus Crewel

ngl you got him fooled for a good few months.

he saw Crowley so eager to become your guardian for some reason... he couldn't let that happen

sometimes being exposed to other ✨Magic chemicals✨ and stuff like that during class can mess a little with the shapeshifting potion you took earlier.

Some days you'll look a little shorter, your voice will be a little higher, stuff like that.

it's not till you call in sick one day that he notices.

you were NOT expecting visits at Ramshackle so you didn't take your potion today.

It would be lunch break by now and Crewel decided to bring you something warm from the cafeteria so you didn't have to get up and cook.

when he gets to your room guided by the ghosts you're covered in blankets and he could only see half your face.

it's weird, your features look ...softer today.

then you noticed he was there, and the moment you opened your mouth-

"pup... are you alright? you sound a little weird toda-"

then he sees some empty bottles on the floor, turns out grim likes to play with them.

"Y/n, is there something you want to tell me?"

Well, you've been caught.

You tell him about what Crowley told you when you originally got here.

He's a little mad but he understands it.

However, he's PISSED at the fact that he hadn't noticed earlier.

After that day he doesn't treat you any different, but he teaches you how to make those kind of potions from scratch (even if they last less) just in case.

Mozus Trein

He didn't know what it was but there was something you were hiding from him.

he's not an old fashioned [ women should stay at the kitchen and take care of the children ] kind of man, but an old fashioned [ women and men are different, and excel at different subjects even if they can technically do anything they put their minds on ] kind.

So sometimes in history class he noticed that his words could get... reactions out of you.

even if it's something as subtle as rolling your eyes, frowning two seconds or subtly scratching your nose with your middle finger as you looked away.

But one day he said something that just got under your skin. Something about women being historically and factually worse at this specific subject...

Where you only got straight A's.

so you confronted him after the lesson ended.

"But why are you so upset, y/n? it's only common knowledge, one day you'll know what I'm talking about."

"Oh but i do know."

as he raised an eyebrow you told him to go over to Ramshackle for some tea later.

Once he showed up you served him tea, you also brought some old graded tests and projects.

"Ah, yes, as applied as always i see, is this the reason you wanted me to come?"

"Actually i just wanted to prove you wrong about earlier."

Before he could ask, the potion's effects wore off.

the old man was DUMBFOUNDED.

???????????????

since WHEN-

was this some kind of prank??? WAIT IT WASN'T???

he's speechless for a solid 3 minutes.

"I see... I understand now."

Just like Crewel he won't treat you any different.

But you will notice from now on how he puts more care into his own words.

Ashton Vargas

Just like Crewel, he didn't suspect a thing.

if fact it takes him even longer to find out the truth.

you weren't exactly the best at P.E but you were alright, and you had very decent grades in general.

However he's certain that you should be in a better shape by now...

He got you training 24/7 and yet there's little to no change on your appearance.

He's not expecting you to look like him or anything but

you should've built some muscle mass by now ????

what he didn't know was that, behind closed doors, your actual body showed a HUGE improvement

but any time you shapeshifted to your male self, it would always look the same, since it's just an illusion.

one day you were taking too long in the changing room and before he could come in to check, you texted him.

this was URGENT you needed him to get a certain bottle from Ramshackle and bring it back here, leaving it by the door.

He's PANICKING because the potion doesn't even have a label. so he jumps to the conclusion that it's some kind of medicine that you need but didn't tell him about.

he feels SO GUILTY after having you exercising everyday

he doesn't even remember that you wanted him to leave it by the door so he comes in and-

you had already changed to your regular uniform. But you looked different.

"Wh- why are you so small???"

your uniform looked so big on you.

you had no option but to explain the situation.

he stays silent for a while and then- "Okay, i understand, it's just like one of my favorite legends! it's so motivating!"

he then proceeds to tell you about the entire plot of Mulan.

He won't treat you differently after that, but makes sure you get enough iron for when it's ... necessary.

Sam

not a guardian

But is the second one ever to discover what's going on with you.

Crowley sent you to get your potions, since they're fairly cheap, he will take care of that.

You made sure to go while everyone else was in class.

When you stepped in, at first Sam didn't assume anything.

It's not uncommon for some students to have fairly feminine features, like Epel or Lilia.

However one can usually tell the moment their voice is revealed.

You asked him for a shapeshifting potion and he had lots of them.

There's the ones that merfolk use to get legs and humans to get a tail and fins...

There's others that keep your face neat and perfect for hours.

There were this ones, (fairly popular on campus) that may interest you, they're pricey but you only have to take a few of them and it changes you permanently, it doesn't only affect your appearance but also your hormones.

And finally there's this ones that only last for a few hours and they're just an illusion.

it can turn you into anything you want, but it's effects are a little weak . It can wear off fast depending on your metabolism.

You only need it for your body and voice so it's okay.

Since he knows your little secret whenever you come to buy anything with your friends he will drop some hints, not enough for them to suspect anything but he will have a laugh or two by teasing you.

[elijahhendley]

7月22號 Day 11: Our last day

So today will be our last day in Taipei. We will be leaving tomorrow during a National air defense drill! So during the year Taiwan does an air defense drill which is similar to a tornado drill, just for the country. Everyone must be inside for 30 minutes during the day and all cars have to stop on the road. No one is allowed to e out and you get fined if you are. But, if you are on the highway you can keep driving, so hopefully we are on the highway when it happens so we don’t waste any time.

Anywho, today started at 9:30 and our first stop was to the Chengchi University. Yeh Laoshi and chief Redstone both went to school here but at different times. We got to check out the dorms where most foreign students would stay if they went here. The dorms were pretty nice. Definitely nicer than most UF dorms. The room was reminiscent of Wang Peng’s dorm. So Wang Peng is a character in our Chinese language book and there are videos we watch with specific dialogue. In some of these videos he is in a dorm room and his room looked like the ones we saw today lol. Downstairs they even have a room where you can borrow a Nintendo Switch to play games with your friends and also sing karaoke.

Then after the dorms we went to the library which was HUGE! It was built only 5 years ago in 2019. It was an eight floor library with so much seating and a lot of space. They had private rooms you could rent out and also they had a creative space where students can do imprints or 3D printing on a small and large scale. They had PLA printers, resin printers, and 1 giant 3D printer for bigger projects. They also had a cafe downstairs which had a good variety of drinks although I did not get anything.

After, we had our break for lunch. I went to a dumpling place with some of the others because Austin suggested it and it was sooooooo good. I had a mini pork wonton noodle soup with some addition potstickers on the side and it was all very good. Then as we were waiting in the heat for the bus, Yeh Laoshi kindly bought us all icecream from McDonald’s. It was really good, thank you Yeh Laoshi! Then we got back on the bus, which was the small bus, and headed to the location we have all been waiting for… the… Taipei Zoo!!! The zoo was good. We got to see leopards, elephants, camels, capybaras, hyenas, and so many monkeys. We saw PANDAS and this other animal I forgot the name of that was mostly donkey and some zebra. But it was very hot at the zoo and after walking for 2 hours we took the shuttle train back to the front of the zoo and met everyone else.

Then our final stop was the YaoYue tea house. It was located on the side of a steep mountain. We had a mini tea ceremony done by one of the workers, Peter, and Yeh Laoshi. It is awesome how intricate the tea making process is and all the little things the culture considered when making tea. Watching them make tea made me excited for the tea ceremony we have at the end of the trip. Also the tea was good and light. Not too strong at all and very refreshing. The type of tea we had was Jasmine tea which is very fragrant. After the tea Austin Jack and I rushed to get some Cantonese fried rice with Josh(Yeh Laoshi’s nephew) because it was closing soon. It was really good and also, it was Josh’s birthday today, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOSH!

Academic reflection

So today I wanted to reflect on tea. Reading about all of the potential benefits of tea, I wanted to share that here. Tea is consumed by two-thirds of the world's population. It is very popular across the globe but not as popular in America as compared to other places. Because of this I have never done research on tea. I only have heard that it is good for you, but have not read any studies on it. So here is what I learned.

There are basically 3 bases of tea; Green tea, Oolong tea, and black tea. The difference between the three is the time fermented. Green teas is non-fermented, Oolong teas semi-fermented, and Black tea fermented.

Tea overall has a lot of positive effects. It contains many polyphenols, which are known to be a preventative agent. Specifically, the catechin epigallocatechin-3-gallate(EGCG) is the credited to the anticarcinogenic effect of grean tea(cancer preventative). Many anticarcinogenic effects where only attributed to green tea but now more research has come out for black tea having similar benefits. Different types of cancer tea can help prevent are skin, prostate, lung and breast cancer.

Green tea also helps reduce reactive oxygen species(ROS) and promote fat metabolism to help reduce athlerosclerotic plaque in the blood vessles. This all promotes good cardiovascular health and decrease myocardial infarctions.

Green tea also lowers the risk of diabetes and artheritis in women and could potentially have neurological effects that prevent parkinon's disease.

After learning all of this, I felt so healthy drinking the tea and had so many cups of it. Not only was it good Jasmine tea, but knowing that they used green tea as the base for jasmine tea, I might start drinking more tea when I get back to the US.

Maybe drink some tea

Until next time, 再見��

[alechaos]

Do the Pandemic Changes Everything?

Two years ago passed by really fast, and I can still remember the days I was at the school grounds of Mater Ecclesiae, saying hi and hello to the people I know, hanging out with my best friend by the playground, enjoying our lunch together, building memories with my teachers and classmates as we study and fancy every subject altogether. Then, after such a long day, I'd ride the school service, seeing and greeting my sister and her friends as we finally meet once again and blurting silly jokes as I make memories with the people surrounding me. Once I get home, I will greet my mom with a hug and tell my family how my day went. As I reach out for my bed after the day, I will reminisce and continue to fancy over the things I did in the past months until today and be grateful for how amazing things went. Ah, it was such a fantastic memoir, as if almost everything I did pre-pandemic was the usual thing I do as I move forward every day.

And then, one day, someone out of the blue became mainstream and a headline on every single news outlet, whether on tabloids or online news-- he can be everywhere. Someone who establishes its face worldwide, even though it has no distinct and recognizable features. After his first appearance from the different reports, just about 24 hours, everyone across the globe was rattled by his intimidating and terrifying presence. I can still remember how our classes were canceled that day. We were in our class after lunch when our instructor went inside our room to announce that we needed to pack our things as the head of the institution decided to send us home. I wasn't really sure during that time why and what's the reason for the sudden announcement as the announcer did not impart the news in detail. When I got home, I was shocked to see my older sister telling my mom the same announcement I was told earlier that day. She said that our country officially contracted the disease that has been killing many people from China-- that it finally reached our country and our people. Of course, I had no idea what they were talking about as I was not a fan of reading news articles and getting updates about current events. Only then I knew about the COVID-19 virus that has been spreading across the globe. My older brother also mentioned that day that their university announced the cancellation of their classes for the upcoming days, as the first report of the disease was found to be from the Bulacan area. As we spoke about why we were sent home, from that moment, I knew something terrible might be happening in the future. To be honest, from that moment, I felt some sort of uneasiness and worrisome because we just had experienced being covered with ashes from the eruption of Mount Taal during the second week of January, and I know for sure that many people haven't recovered yet from its impact.

In a  span of 24 hours after the news broke out nationwide, our lives changed in a snap. The next thing I knew was we were under the pandemic, and we had to follow a new set of rules and regulations in order to protect ourselves and prevent the diseases from further spreading throughout the country. Not just the way people are living changed, but the modalities of learning have also brought us a new perspective on learning. Before the pandemic, I am not a fan of using alcohol and disinfectants-- not just me, but I think most people are not fond of doing such activities like this. But because of the pandemic, I learned to constantly use disinfectants-- literally as if it has become a mannerism to prevent myself from contracting the COVID-19 virus. Another thing I observed myself is the behavior of constantly checking up on the news. Knowing that throughout the pandemic, the prevalence of fake news spreading is so high as if it was a disease. When you go online and check a news report content from reliable sources, you will see the skyrocketing hate and backlash it gained from the mass. On the other side, if you will go and check social media posts from trolls, unreliable profiles, and poser accounts, you will be dazed by how many comments, reactions, likes, and shares it gathered considering that the post's content is filled with irrelevant, unreliable, and deceiving information. Generally speaking, if we are to talk about the changes in my lifestyle, I could tell that in two years, I was able to help myself grow more and take care of my well-being. I also learned to value and love my efforts to maintain my life's peacefulness. I engaged myself in performing self-care routines like skincare routines and learned the importance of cutting your hair as part of maintaining its healthiness and nourishment, eating healthier foods, and taking a break from social media because I recognized how social media negatively impact my mental wellness, especially throughout the pandemic, many people are starting to get more vicious and terrifying of expressing themselves. I realized that taking a break from social media could actually be healthful in reducing the environmental stresses you're feeling. During the pandemic, I also started improving my academic life. I became more serious about studying, and as much as I wanted, I made sure to obtain high grades and bring the best out of myself. This realization hit me when I was in grade 11 because, at that moment, I finally thought of how things could affect my future career and future self. To be more academically prepared, I watched tutorials on how to use different online databases, asked for help from my sister, and gave myself free time to learn more about online websites. As we now conduct face-to-face classes, I am confident enough to tell everyone that I can do the things they want me to do because I put effort into learning things. This pandemic also helped me feel more connected with my family because when we were constrained from running errands outside our house, that paved the way for spending more time with our family. That two years gave me time to build a stronger bond with my family and helped me to be more open with them. What happened in our country also improved my emotional quotient because the pandemic taught us that being compassionate and understanding to everyone surrounding you is one of the core values we must attain so that we will be able to extend our hands to people who needed our help. The pandemic is proof that not all everyone is in the same boat. I mean, it's true that we're all on the same water, but we're not riding the same boat that has the same durability to withstand every struggle we face. It only takes a kind and understanding heart to make others feel better, and this is the essential thing the pandemic taught me.

As I end this note, it is indispensable that for some people, the pandemic may have been so cruel and challenging to handle-- something that might have been traumatizing for them, and I understand that. But for my case, I am thankful because the pandemic gave me lots of time to think about myself in such a way that I can reflect daily on the things I do and the decisions I make. The pandemic allowed me to focus on myself, even though it's only for two years. I will forever be grateful for that two years because, in that two years, I was able to create a new me where that me has an improved character and a better version.

[idy-ll-ique]

jealousy, jealousy

pairing: ceo!steve rogers x f!reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: smut at the end (can you tell steve has a domesticity k*nk because— 😳) unprotected sex so don't learn anything from my fics and use some damn protection

requested: by my best fren @roguese7en 🥰

What if ceo admits his feelings to his assistant reader and she is like "you only keep me around cause you like me ? Not because of my abilities , degrees , hardworking etc etc " and she start hyperventilating like oh no that's why all her colleagues hate her and all her hardwork is washed down the drain but ceo is like " no , no I did keep you around because of how hard you work at first and you still do but I just over the months realized you are so beautiful ...... shit it came out wrong , sorry I scared you . Wait ....... who hates you ?"

word count: ~3.3k

summary: steve plans on telling y/n how he feels by calling her to his house to help him with some paperwork. but it doesn't go as planned and lot of workplace secrets are revealed... thankfully, it all works out in the end

author's note: hiya peeps! so @roguese7en has already read this fic and she liked it so i just wanna post it here because it's high time i post something lmao enjoy!

masterlist

---

"Y/N? What are you still doing here?"

Caught in the act, Y/N looked up at her boss, Steve Rogers. He was frowning at her; though it seemed like more of a confused one rather than a disappointed one. "I, uh, I just—"

Y/N Y/L/N was the assistant of CEO Steve Rogers, who owned a massive company that also had international branches. He was widely known across the globe as well; every day, without fail at lunchtime he'd go out, only to return 2 hours later. And ever since Y/N began working for him, she spent her lunch break in his office rather than with all her other colleagues in the cafeteria.

Why? They all hated her. It wasn't like a discrete thing either, they were very open about it. They called her names, bullied her, and also often told her that the only reason Steve had hired her was because he found her to be physically attractive. They even insinuated that the two had a sexual relationship, and that's how she got her job. So her degrees were just useless, right?

She avoided them like the plague; she only ever spoke to Steve, and spent all her breaks alone. But that day, Steve had apparently come back earlier than usual, and caught her sitting on the couch in his office, going through her phone. He was incredibly confused; why wasn't she outside like the rest of his employees? His office was strictly out-of-bounds for loitering around.

"You know you can tell me, right?" Steve smiled softly, taking a seat behind his desk. Y/N had started working for the man around 2 years ago; she was the best damn assistant Steve could ask for. Not only because she was super hardworking, very intelligent and amazing, but also because he… he had a mild infatuation with her, AKA he was in love with her. The woman was simply brilliant.

She was kind of overqualified for the job as well; one day, he'd asked her why she didn't just open her own company and she'd replied that that was simply not her thing. She liked the work she was doing now; managing his timetable, arranging his meetings, looking after some of his work… Plus, he was paying her well, so why would she choose stressful work when this job existed?

That had earned her massive respect from Steve. As the two continued staring at each other, Y/N sighed. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again," she muttered, rubbing her neck. "I just wanna ask, why? I've also noticed you don't talk to anyone much; is there a particular reason why?" She shook her head. "I'm just… shy, I guess." Y/N decided not to snitch on anyone, since that would only make them hate her more.

"Understandable. Should we get to work again, then?" Y/N gave him a smile and nodded, checking his timetable on her phone. "Mr Stark is coming to meet you at 3 pm, if you remember," she reminded him and he nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Right, right."

---

"Thanks so much for being here, Y/N, you are a literal angel, I swear." She chuckled bashfully at his words. "You're my boss, Mr Rogers, you know I'll do anything you ask me." Steve's mind immediately went to the gutters at her words and he cleared his throat. "Right, so there's some paperwork I need to finish and can't do it alone, so—"

"That's what I'm here for."

A few days had passed since their interaction in his office; they were at Steve's place, and it was very late at night. He'd sat doing paperwork the entire day but as the night rolled around, he realised that it was too much work for a single person. So he called the one person who he knew would never hesitate to help him— Y/N.

She'd showed up just a few minutes ago. Y/N sat down on a couch in his lavish sitting room, looking around. He lived in a luxurious skyscraper, and his apartment was easily 10 times bigger than hers. The living room was littered with comfortable couches and the view from the apartment was to die for. The "walls" were actually floor-to-ceiling windows.

She'd only ever seen an apartment like this on social media. And to be inside one? The one whose owner was her extremely hot boss? The feeling was unparalleled. Steve soon returned with two glasses and a bottle of champagne, sitting next to her with a sigh. "Oh, what's this?" Y/N blinked when he popped open the bottle, pouring the liquid into the glasses.

"I'm really tired of writing, can we start later?" She chuckled and accepted the glass from him. There was silence for a while as they had their first sip; Steve was the one who commenced a conversation. "So, how are you? Made any friends at work yet?" Looking down, she shook her head. "Nah, I don't know… maybe later." He nodded.

"Are you seeing someone?"

She tilted her head in confusion. "Asking because I thought maybe your boyfriend told you not to talk to anyone… some men are assholes like that." Y/N laughed at his words. "No, no, I don't have a boyfriend. Plus, even if I did have one, I'd certainly not date someone like that," she scoffed at the end, making Steve laugh as well. "Yeah. I'm single as well, ya know," he hinted softly.

Y/N looked at him, surprised. She genuinely didn't know, he kept his love life very secret. "You are? Seriously? No one wants to date you? Man, people have incredibly high standards then." Steve gave her a wistful smile. "It's not that, it's… the one I want probably doesn't want me. I know a lot of people who are interested in me, I'm just not interested in them." Y/N nodded.

Because to be honest, who wouldn't be interested in him? She herself had a huge, huge, huge crush on him; he was just so amazing. Kind, charming, funny, helpful, good looking… basically her type. "You can try telling her you like her, you know? I bet she'll say yes." The words were making her want to tear up.

Of course he didn't like her back, why would he? Surely he'd prefer someone with his shared social status. Hearing her response, Steve kept his glass down and turned to face her on the couch. "Alright, I'm gonna tell her." She gave him a grin, but was massively surprised when Steve took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

"I really, really like you, Y/N."

This was not happening.

They can't be right.

They just can't.

"You don't!" she screamed, standing up abruptly. Startled, Steve watched in shock as she pulled at her hair, her eyes filling with tears. "Y/N—" She furiously shook her head, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "So what, you— you just hired me because you think I'm cute? My degrees, my hard work, my qualifications just don't matter, huh?!"

Steve immediately realized the issue was a bit deeper. Not losing his cool, he stood up too and gently pulled her close. Y/N slammed her fists against his chest repeatedly until she completely broke down, collapsing against him. For two whole years, she'd put up with the harassment of her coworkers. Steve's eyes watered as well, seeing her sobbing in his arms was shattering.

He maneuvered them both onto the couch behind them, rubbing her back as he got her to calm down. She remained seated on his lap, her arms wrapped around the man's neck as he held her close. "Y/N, is there something you're not telling me?" She refused to lift her head off his shoulder, silently staring at the view behind him.

Steve waited a beat, before gently pulling her away, cupping her cheeks. "Speak to me, my love." She looked at him, teary eyed. "Did you really just hire me because of how I look?" Steve instantly shook his head. "Of course I didn't, darling. I looked at your qualifications, your hard work and your excellence. I fell in love with those traits, and eventually… fell in love with you too."

He frowned. "Doll, but why are you so paranoid about it?" Y/N shook her head, snuggling into his arms again. "They hate me," she whispered, "Everyone at work hates me. They call me names… They say I slept my way to be where I am today." Steve froze at her words, his body filling with unfathomable rage. "What?" he whispered in a menacing tone.

"It's true, you have to believe me! I have proof…" She took out her phone and showed him some of the chats from her coworkers; she only talked to them when absolutely necessary, but they still treated her like garbage. Steve read through the chats, his anger reaching new heights. How fucking jealous were they? Pushing a woman towards a literal breakdown and issues with self-esteem.

"They're just jealous," he assured her in a soft voice, already plotting several murders, "They're jealous because you work the closest to me. And I believe they have plenty of reasons to be jealous, because look at you. An angel. My angel." He held her close for some time more, running his fingers through her hair as she tried to calm herself down.

But then, after a while he noticed that she'd fallen asleep. Well, it was pretty late at night and although they didn't get any work done, Steve realized that both of them needed sleep. So, he stood up and carried her over to his room, placing her down on his bed. Just as he did, though, she blinked her eyes open. "I can't sleep in this."

Steve leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "Will you allow me?" he asked her and she understood what he meant, nodding before falling asleep again. Y/N was dressed in a knee-length burgundy dress that had a zipper on the back. Steve delicately turned her on her side, pulling the zipper down before pushing the dress off of her.

Now she was laying in front of him in only her panties and a bra. Without trying any funny business, his first priority being her well-being, Steve also took off her bra and kept both the pieces of clothing away. Then he got up and went to his wardrobe, shuffling through it before finally settling on his softest t-shirt; a plain gray one. He went back to Y/N and got her into the t-shirt.

After that, Steve took off the suit he was wearing as well, putting on a pair of black sweatpants before getting into bed with her. He pulled her close to him and tugged the blankets over both their bodies, wrapping an arm around her waist. Y/N woke up at the contact, before promptly snuggling into Steve's arms again, now comfortable.

---

In the morning, Steve was the one who woke up first. He looked down and saw Y/N deep asleep, enveloped in his arms. Smiling to himself, he gently untangled himself from her and got up, yawning as he went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. It took him about a half an hour; when he walked back into the bedroom, he saw her still asleep.

Deciding not to wake her up, he simply planted a quick kiss to her forehead and left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He made himself some breakfast and finally, at 8 am, left for work. He'd decided to give Y/N a free day; after everything she had been through, it was deserved. Plus, today he had also called in a meeting with all his employees, to yell at them for how they treated Y/N.

If I can't kill them, yelling will have to do.

At Steve's apartment, Y/N stirred herself awake at 11 am. When she realized the time, she immediately sat up and called Steve, biting her lip. "Good morning, my angel, did you sleep well?" She blinked at his response. "Steve, why didn't you wake me up?" He chuckled. "Believe me, doll, you deserve a day off. And plus, you don't wanna be around for what I'm about to do to your coworkers."

She couldn't help but snort at that. "Are you gonna kill them?" she joked and he laughed on the other end. "I'm afraid that's illegal, sweetheart. I am going to reprimand them all, though. Don't leave my apartment, got it? You have all the amenities there; you wanna clean up? Extra toothbrushes in the cupboard above the sink. Clothes? Raid my wardrobe. Food? The kitchen's all yours, the pantry is stacked up."

She was smiling at his words. "I'll see you in the evening; we'll definitely complete our paperwork today." Y/N laughed and ended the call.

She made full use of Steve's apartment just like he told her to; took a refreshing bath in his jacuzzi tub, wore another one of his soft, white t-shirts and a pair of his clean boxer shorts before going to the kitchen and making herself some food. Then she sat lounging around the apartment; at one point standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows for 15 minutes straight, admiring the view.

Precisely at 6 in the evening Steve returned home; Y/N was in the kitchen fixing herself a snack when she saw Steve walk in. She immediately rushed towards him and into his arms, giving him a tight hug. Steve, meanwhile, admired the sight in front of him; the love of his life, wearing his clothes, being in his house, waiting for him to come home…

He couldn't get over how domestic it all was. And at the moment, all he wanted to do was haul her over his shoulder and take her to the bedroom. "You look so beautiful, my love," he whispered, placing a soft kiss on her lips before going south, kissing along her jaw and neck. Y/N let out a breathy moan at the sensation, and Steve's cock started hardening in his pants.

"I'm hungry too, sweetheart, let me have a taste…"

"Steve," Y/N whined as he hauled her over his shoulder like he had promised. They reached his bedroom and he placed her down on the bed, leaning in to place several kisses on her collarbone. She tugged on his tie and he haphazardly took it off, also taking off the rest of his clothes until he was in nothing but his briefs. Y/N's eyes slightly widened at the visible tent in his pants; he was big.

"You are so fucking good, sweetheart," he murmured happily as he inched the t-shirt she was wearing upwards. "Mm," she moaned as his hands groped at her breasts. She cried out his name when he took a nipple in his mouth, biting on the perked bud. "All mine, aren't you?" Y/N nodded but Steve stopped his actions, raising an eyebrow at her. "Say it, baby, I love your voice so much."

"A-All yours, Stevie," she whimpered and he smirked, his hands sneaking down to rest on her hips, close to the waistband of the shorts. "Can't wait to see that pretty little cunt of yours, I'm going to ruin it," he promised and tugged on the shorts, leaving her bare in front of him. "Fuck, so beautiful," he hissed and her hips jumped up when two of his fingers ran over her wet folds.

"And so wet, too, how perfect," he praised her and a shiver ran down her spine. He knelt in front of her until he was eye-level with her dripping cunt. "I can already tell this is going to be my new favourite taste in the world," he whispered and Y/N shrieked his name when his tongue flicked at her clit. "Yes, baby, keep screaming my name, tell everyone you're mine," he hummed as he continued eating her out. "Stevie, fuck," she sobbed, her fingers tangling in his hair.

She had never felt this good with anyone before. Steve was actually making her see stars before her eyes. "Look at you, you're gushing," he chuckled, pulling away for a second. Y/N noticed the way his chin and lips were shining, coated in her juices. "And it tastes so sweet, too. Cum for me, baby, come on." He increased his speed and Y/N's legs involuntarily closed around his head.

He grabbed her thighs and held them apart as he made her fall apart on his tongue. With one last swipe of his tongue on her clit, Y/N came undone. Steve let out a grunt as he greedily lapped up all that she had to offer. She slumped on the bed. With a smack of his lips against her folds, Steve pulled away, making a show of licking his lips. "Fucking amazing, baby, you're so fucking good to me," he smiled as he lay on top of her, caging her underneath him.

"Stevie," she murmured and wrapped her arms around him, bringing him in for a kiss. "Y/N/N, baby," he whispered back in between the kisses they exchanged. Then he shrugged off his briefs, allowing his impressive length to jump out and hit his lower abdomen. Y/N's almost drooled as he reached for the bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube from it.

He poured some of it on his palm and covered his cock with it, turning to Y/N. She tentatively reached for it; he hissed when her fingers came in contact with his cock. "Fuck, babe, shit, ah," he moaned as she gripped it, slowly moving her hand up and down his length. "That feel good?" she smiled a little. "Feels fucking amazing," he replied, desperately trying to hold himself back because her hands were magic.

When he felt himself unable to hold back, he pushed Y/N's hand away. Roughly grabbing her hips, he adjusted her on the bed and got on top of her, sliding into her warm cunt in one fluid motion. Both of them cried out that the sensation, Y/N's hands reaching up to grab his biceps. "Steve, oh God, fuck!" she screamed as his hips snapped back and forth at blinding speeds. "God? I've only ever heard daddy before, but God sounds good," he chuckled cockily.

Sweat dripped down Y/N's forehead as she moved like a rag doll against Steve's powerful thrusts. Another knot started forming in Y/N's abdomen as Steve reached spots inside her she didn't even know she had that felt so good.

He was also trying his hardest to hold back. "Mm, fuck, fuck!" Y/N whined as she felt her orgasm fast approaching. "Gonna cum again, doll?" he panted and she nodded furiously, her eyes screwed shut. "Good, I'm close too. Let go for me, angel, I'm right here," he assured her and the knot inside her broke. Y/N let out a pornographic moan as she relaxed against the bed, coming all over Steve's cock. He bit her shoulder to muffle his sounds of pleasure; the way her cunt was clenching over his cock...

He couldn't hold himself back either. Steve shouted her name as he pulled out of her, stroking himself a couple times before spilling his release over her stomach and chest. He slumped on top of her as both of them simply stayed there, catching their breaths. "Well, wasn't this a perfect welcome home?" he grinned cheekily and Y/N laughed tiredly, slapping his chest.

"I need another bath now," she pouted and Steve immediately stood up, carrying her bridal style towards the bathroom. "We can share the bath. Then we'll have dinner, and then we can finally finish yesterday's paperwork, okay?"

"Okay, but no drinking this time."

"Come on, bunny..."

"No, Stevie."

"Ugh, okay, fine."

"Good boy."

"Stop that."

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

what about nat and bucky teaming up to make steve massive? maybe it starts as a sort of friendly competition between the two of them or something or maybe nat gets sneaky and starts trying to secretly "help" bucky and steve's obvious infatuation with steve's growing waistline along but accidentally gets hooked on the idea of steve becoming a blob herself, either way, two devoted feeders are better than one

*heavy breathing* This this this this this this 

This hits fucking hard, like- 😳😳🥵

Two feeders are better than one. Yes.

I love the idea of Bucky and Nat both feeding Steve. And the first thing that came to my mind with this was the idea of a hugely bloated Steve sitting on the couch between both of them, each of Steve's feeders with a fork in their hands, a piece of one of the two cakes on each fork respectively, trying to get him to just have just one more piece, c’mon, you can do it, Steve, you can fit it in there.

And poor Steve is huge. He’s never been more round in his life. His gut is so round, so stretched out, that it looks fake. He’s a globe. The thing is practically pinned onto his front like an oversized beach ball. And he’s desperately, drunkenly rubbing the dome of his stomach, whining between hard panting breaths. Natasha and Bucky are leaning in tight to either side of him. Steve can’t breathe between the rich, moist cake and both of their lithe weights resting against him. “‘Tasha,” he moans, then he burps through the end of his pleasured, agonized sound, “Buck,” he sounds like he might cry as he pleads, “I can’t take anymore. Please, ‘m so f- uuurp,” he burps around a moan, “f-full.” 

Like… dear, god.

Warning for unbeta'd stevebuckynat belly kink with weight gain, funnel feeding, stuffing, slight slight humiliation/fat-shaming, mirror-sex, etc.

Now, this has me on a path of Steve being in a polycule with Natasha and Bucky. And in this AU both Natasha and Bucky are bakers. The bakers meet because they were competing against each other in the same part of the city with their own independent bakeries before they joined forces and made the, hands-down, best bakery in the whole fucking city, becoming business partners and swallowing the other independently owned bakeries one by one. Bucky and Natasha, business partners and bakers, weren’t dating when Steve came into the picture… they were together as only business partners by extreme sexual tension (if you can believe a word of what Sam says 😂). But Steve was the metaphorical knife to cut that tension in two.

Steve is an artist but was working part-time to pay the bills at the time that he met them.

He worked mornings, so at first, as a treat to himself for getting up and actually going to a job he hated but needed to keep the lights on and food on the table, he would stop by their storefront and get something sweet. A pastry or two. Some cookies. A slice (or whole loaf) of sweet bread. A large brownie square, maybe more. Whatever. Then… eventually, Steve just got hooked. Both hooked on the sugar and the flirty two owners that never back down from making him blush, really making him feel like their most valued customer. So, more often than not, he began coming in for breakfast and lunch. Lunch when he was on his way home from that stupid, dreadful office job. And the more Bucky and Natasha saw him, the more they saw of him...

Steve began to grow out of his business attire. His dress shirts first just became more filled out; maybe a trick of the light, maybe he got a new washer or dryer and shrunk some of his shirts? Then there wasn't any way you could dispute that he'd put on some weight as those shirts began to pull across his shoulders even more than they did already, shoulders impressively broad, and then the buttons… the buttons began to strain, gapping and showing off his undershirts. And sooner than later, the buttons on those shirts started coming undone by the time Steve reached their bakery. Before he had to be "professional" and after the professional part of the day was done… the ends of his shirts fluttering around his undershirts which were now exposed to the world, showing off his growing gut, becoming thinner and thinner by the day until the shadow of Steve’s belly button was always visible.

Steve was an ever growing boy.

By the time Steve’s belt was on the last notch and his undershirts were rolling up on his wonderfully fat love handles to also show off a slice of delightfully pudgy and pale under-belly, Bucky had started making moves. Natasha started making moves at the same time. They bickered in the back (when their employees were otherwise busy) about who would get to serve him that day? Who got breakfast and who got lunch? Sometimes who got to do both. And even sometimes bickering who got the privilege of obviously flirting with the swelling, increasing blond.

It didn't take long - after Steve realized this was in fact real life and not a very very good fever dream - for Steve to ask Bucky if he kissed him, on their first date, if he’d still get a chance to kiss Natasha. Bucky had sputtered in surprise, unable to answer in his shock, expecting his shared romantic prospect to just choose between himself or Natasha. Not himself and Natasha. Steve then had to sheepishly explain that he thought they were an item that was trying to court him. Courting him together. Steve wanted both of them.

Steve wants both of them. 

Bucky and Natasha had then had to discuss that in length. And, what the hell, they decided to go for it. All three of them. Together. 

So, the vaguely aggressive flirt-fighting over Steve stopped. Normal flirting started. Or… somewhat normal flirting/courting. But what didn’t stop was the baked goods because both Natsha and Bucky insisted that Steve needn’t pay and let him have his meals on the house. Every. Day. They also brought food to any and all hangouts and dates they had with Steve. And, as is predictable, Steve started growing faster. 

Expanding.

Steve started growing even faster than fast later when he moved in with Bucky and Natasha. Well, he moved in with Natasha and then Bucky followed Steve not even a week later. 

Now, there’s never not a time when someone is in the kitchen, preparing something for Steve. Sometimes it’s normal meals, sometimes it’s special, experimental items that Steve gets to try- one or both of his partners asking if he likes it and if he thinks it’d be good on their bakery’s menu. And with three roommates all pitching in equally for bills and groceries… Steve doesn’t need that second job. Plus, his art is taking off enough that he was planning on getting out of that job soon anyway, so they’ve got more than enough money when it’s pooled together. 

Things are good. 

Things a great.

Steve stays in his home art studio and doesn’t walk as much as he did when he had an on-foot, daily commute. Although, sometimes he does come down to the bakery for a meal but it’s not needed- they have plenty of food at home. Always something sweet to appeal to his sweet tooth. Always something savory and meat-y to keep up his protein 😉 Always something snack-ish and light to make sure he can eat and stuff his face without thinking about it. It’s only if he’s missing his partners or needs a breath of fresh air that Steve leaves for breakfast or lunch. So, without that little bit of exercise he used to get, he grows quicker. Again. Blowing up even faster. 

By this point, living with his feeders, indulging himself and them, every time Steve meets someone he hasn't seen in a while they do a second, tripple, and sometimes even a third take. Is that fat guy really Steve? Steve Rogers? Damn. He's gone to seed, hasn't he? He's undeniably fat. Huge all over. Especially huge in the middle. Never not bloated. Swollen. 

And Steve loves it. He loves his partners and he loves living like this. Always half horny and ready to go because he's always at least full. If not fully stuffed, packed, and incapacitated by his most recent gluttonous meal...

Tasha often makes Steve stand in front of the closet door mirror - long enough to show Steve his whole changed body and wide enough to show all three of them together even if they aren't squished - in their bedroom and pinches and grabs and jiggles his fat, letting him feel the waves go through him, no matter how full his belly is packed. He's fat. Tasha's voice is in his ear like that, on her tiptoes over his shoulder, pointing out where exactly all those extra calories are with lacquered fingernails. Talking down to him in a way that makes Steve shudder uncontrollably. Our fat pet… good boy… growing so nice for us. All big and strong. Porking up just like a good pet should. 

Meanwhile, Bucky usually jerks him off nice and slow as she talks and touches him elsewhere. Touching his fat. Bucky drags out his pleasure until Steve thinks he’s gonna die and they’re both holding him up, his knees long since buckled. His fat face flushed pink. Sweat rolling down his swollen curves. His head spinning, empty other than the echoes of Natasha's incredible dirty talk. It’s a good thing he’s got two partners to keep him upright. He’s too fat for just one person to hold up. Too heavy. 

Or, sometimes when Natasha talks to him like that, in front of the mirror, challenging him to look at his expanding body and see how fat he is as her mouth runs, Bucky feeds him. Tasha tells him where those calories are going. Straight to his belly? Or maybe to his thighs? Maybe his big, wobbly, fat ass? They'll just have to wait and see but… they can speed it up too, so, go on, James, feed him more.

Sometimes Tasha feeds him too (they do switch things around) messy and glorious, pushing pieces of brownie or chunks of cake between his gaped, hungry lips with those painted fingernails, while Bucky fucks him from behind, calloused hands biting into his soft, plush hips, groaning and swearing at the way his ass jiggles and his gut hangs. Steve feels the heavy, hairy bulk of Bucky on top of him. And he feels Tasha's smooth skin against him when she finally runs out of food and curls up against his fucked-out side, caressing his bulging, hanging tummy. Cooing at him. It's intoxicating. The contrast between them. All brought together by Steve's unending gluttony. His hunger is rarely able to be sated, so it's a good thing he has two enablers. 

Sometimes Tasha fucks him with her strap, Steve pinned flat on his back, barely able to breathe under his own weight while Bucky pours a milkshake down Steve’s throat. Steve's hands are either tied back, out of the way and completely at their mercy, or he's on orders to keep his hands on his own gut. Take in every gulp. Every inch he bloats out. Farther and farther. Fatter and fatter. Steve moans desperately and swallows the shake eagerly. He's so full. So full of food and now milkshakes. So full of Tasha's cock and- and so fucking full when Bucky, after the shake is all down his throat and into his belly, makes Steve blow him. Bucky makes Steve blow him and swallow his come. Just to give him a little bit more. Getting him just a little bit fuller. His come won't make Steve fatter, but it will make Steve moan hotly. He loves it.

Sometimes they both feed him at once: …hugely bloated Steve sitting on the couch between both of them, each of his feeders with a fork in their hands, a piece of one of the two cakes on each fork respectively, trying to get him to just have one more piece. Poor Steve is huge. He’s never been more round. His gut is so round, so stretched out, that it looks fake. He’s a globe. And he’s desperately, drunkenly rubbing the dome of his stomach, whining and panting hard. Natasha and Bucky are leaned in tight to either side of him. Steve can’t breathe. “‘Tasha,” he moans, then he burps through the end of his pleasured, agonized sound, “Buck,” he sounds like he might cry, “I can’t take anymore. Please, ‘m so f- uuurp,” he burps around a moan, “f-full.” 

Whatever they do… Natasha and Bucky always make sure they end up with a Steve that is so fat and full that he's useless for anything but moaning, whining, and burping as they rub his massive gut. Such a fat, good pet. Taking everything they want him to. Getting full like they want him. Fat and full, about to be even fatter. 🥵🥴

[jjungkooksthighs]

Yearn for You | jjk (m)

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

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

◊  Rating: 18+ / nsfw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook,” you whimper, “touch me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook, I-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          Jimin:

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

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

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

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

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

          Jungkook:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lesbian-deadpool]

Happy Little Accidents

Part Two: Hope

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 2,317

Warnings: I don’t think there is any?? Crying/light angst, adoption process, stress??

Request: Yes

Summary: You work on getting you little girl back. And hope that it’s successful.

A/N: It’s been a long time coming, I haven’t proof read it or anything (but when do I ever? Lol), so bare that in mind.

Ko-Fi

(Not My GIF)

***

Being a pair of Avengers and going through the adoption process was so very complicated.

On one hand, you were well known across the globe. Household names.

But on the other. You were dangerous people, with violent past's -and futures to come- with more enemies than you could count. Some of which you didn't even know existed. And who in their right minds would ever let a child into that environment? People have been turned down for much less.

However.

You were basically celebrity's. And as everyone knows, that comes with a lot of special treatment. Even if you and Natasha -And most of, if not all of your team- denied to use any of it. But in this case? For little Hope? You would do whatever you had to.

So, it was thanks to that, that you were even allowed to be considered for adoption.

And there was so much work that had to be done.

Papers to sign, meetings to attend, visits and screenings every which way. And so much more.

It was a long and tedious journey. And you still had a long way to go.

Right now, you had to watch as someone picked apart your home -once again- to make sure it was okay for your little girl to come home. Where she belongs.

You had moved not too long ago, maybe a little over two months, and in that time, it had been looked at three times. Which really made it seem like you weren't doing anything, in their eyes, considering you were busy working and renovating the whole place out at the same time.

The day after you and Natasha had to say goodbye to Hope, you knew that you had to get a bigger place than the apartment you had both shared. And began looking for new homes the very same day.

Tony's help wasn't needed, you had plenty of money, but he insisted. So when you two found a townhouse that you absolutely adored, not too far from SHIELD HQ -where you both now worked most of the time. As when Fury found out that you were both to be adopting Hope- or trying to at least, the man lowered your hours and took you off missions altogether. Just until you were all settled-, the billionaire bought it for you, the moment he got wind of it.

You were moved in three days later. Deciding to work on the house while you lived there.

"So, where would the child be sleeping?" Your caseworker asked.

"Oh, right this way," you said, leading her down the hall to the newly decorated bedroom. Natasha following behind.

You gestured to the light pink, yet slightly sparse room. "This is it."

"We still have to pick up some of the furniture. But we've been waiting for the room to be decorated first," Natasha said, excusing the bare room.

"Yeah, Hope's not going to sleep on a stack of paint cans," you tried to joke. To which you barely got a smile from your caseworker, Stephany Halla.

"It look's decorated to me?"

"Oh." Natasha smiled. "We're having a friend of ours paint a mural or two on the walls."

"Yeah, Hope has a few favourite Avengers, so he's gonna paint them. And he's been learning how to draw cartoon characters for it, too."

"He's actually trying to adopt the two kids he took in with his fiance."

"Steve Rogers?" Stephany asked.

"That's the guy," you said, nodding along with Natasha.

"I've seen him around the office," She spoke again a few moments later. "So, when are you planning on getting the furniture for the room?"

"Hopefully, within a month," Natasha replied, "But with our and Steve's schedules, things are up in the air."

It was a difficult start to the adoption process, more so than it was now. Considering that the children legally didn't exist to the world. So, everything was so confusing and thrown up into the air while waiting for the kids to be registered.

Almost like you didn't know whether you were coming or going. Everything stuck in limbo as you waited to see what kind of adoption process you would have to take. And even with all of your connections in the world, you were still left in the dark.

There was the fact that the kids were found overseas in Romania, so they could be considered Romanian. And so, you would have to go through international adoption.

However, none of the children have birth parents and were brought to America because you had rescued them. So, some would say they could be considered immigrants.

Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Babies that had been grown in a lab and saved from a further torturous life, that now needed legalization in the world's eyes.

You and Natasha had to watch as Government's essentially fought over these children you saved. Over the same child, you clothed and fed. The one you played games with and bonded with the little girl you grew to love and consider your own.

So, as the world fought for the right of your child, your little Hope, you waited. Just wishing and wanting to bring your daughter home.

But, luckily for you, the children were now classed as American citizens. Which made it ten times easier for you to adopt than it would otherwise.

Which is honestly just crazy to you, considering just how intensely hard this is.

There were times you didn't believe you could ever adopt your child.

On more than one occasion, Natasha would come to you, saddened to her core, because she truly believed that you would never have Hope in your family.

It was so fucking hard.

Natasha had rolled over one night after you two had -once again- gone through the rules and regulations of adopting. Uttering how you were, "Never going to get her back" that there was "Juts no way, they will let us adopt", as she cried into your arms.

But still, the process continued.

"Well, your home seems to be in good standing. So for. But I advise you to get the furniture for the child's room as soon as possible," Stephane commented as she began packing up her belongings and paperwork.

"Oh, we know."

"Steve did say that he was going to start work on it in the next few days," Natasha added, nodding along with you.

"Well, that's is good news." Stephane smiled. "I'll see you at our next meeting with Hope."

Natasha sighed happily. "We can't wait."

"Well, goodbye then."

You whished the dirty-blonde woman farewell, closing the door behind her.

"We get to see our daughter in a couple of weeks," your red-headed girlfriend said excitedly, dancing from side to side out of pure happiness. Her bright smile filling your soul with warmth, that travelled all the way into your bones.

You matched her emotions, hands coming to curve around her shoulder blades and pulling her close to you.

"I know, Honey. It's been so long since we've seen her. And we're gonna bring her home one day."

That was all you could say before your mouth was covered, with the crushing feeling of Natasha's plump lips against yours.

***

Nerves rattled through you, but you hadn't the faintest idea why, considering this wasn't the first time you had seen Hope. However, it had been one of the first times you were able to see her since the day she was taken away from you.

If you thought you were bad.

Natasha was far worse.

She was practically shaking. From nerves or excitement, you didn't know. But you had a good inkling to think that it was both.

You had done so much for this child in the short span of time you had known her.

And yet, you couldn't imagine your life any other way. The thought of how your life had been that time last year.

No Hope. Surrounded by missions and work. Every free moment you had was spent with Natasha, and the rag-tag group of hero's you had grown to call your family.

It all seemed so foreign now.

Like a past life.

'Wow', you thought, 'Maybe I really am growing up'.

A part of you was afraid that the girl you thought of as your daughter wouldn't recognise you or your []. And would be scared of the two strangers that had just barged their way into her life. Breaking both of your heart's.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Was the thing that greeted you, as soon as the door had swung open. Making you realise just how stupid your train of thought really was.

Natasha rushed forward, scooping the girl up into her arms, with a bright smile upon both of their faces.

"So, I still don't get a name, huh?" you joked, walking over to the reuniting girls.

Brushing a hand over Hope's short hair. Grinning when she reached her arms towards you, ready to give you a hug of your own, which you gratefully accepted.

"Don't worry," Natasha said, rubbing Hope's back as she hugged you, "You'll get a name soon."

"I better. Or else I'm gonna have ta tickle it out of her."

Hope's squeals reached your ears as you threateningly poked her side with your fingers.

"Here, baby. I'll save you," Natasha called, pulling the giggling girl from your arms. Both of them watching as you pulled your hand's in front of your face, wiggling the fingers almost spookily as them. The girls turned to each other, "They're silly."

Then they walked away.

With you calling after them.

"Hey! I may be silly, but-... I have no rebuttal!"

Natasha laughed at this, then greeted the care worker that was patiently waiting for you both. The one that you had only just noticed.

"Hello, Stephany," Natasha said in greeting, shaking the woman's hand. You following suit.

"Hey. How have you two been?"

"Missing this little one," Natasha replied, bouncing the girl on her waist. Receiving fun-filled giggles in return.

"I bet you have. And you, Y/N?"

"Exhausted," you told her honestly, "With moving house and everything, I just want to have Hope home, then sleep for a week."

The care worker laughed at that.

"Let's hope that that's sooner rather than later, then."

Your few hour's with Hope passed faster than you ever could have imagined. You played with blocks, ate lunch, "helped" Hope colour in her haphazardly filled colouring book. You absolutely adored the way her eyes lit up, and she started dancing and flailing her arms when she saw bubbles for the first time. You almost couldn't continue blowing them because of your bright smile.

And now you were watching as Natasha spoke gently to the little girl. Hope's hand's resting on the red-heads cheeks, watching her mother with such concentrating eyes.

You adored your little family.

You just wished you could have them all home.

'One day', you thought, 'one day'.

Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.

Just like the last time.

And the time before that.

And the time before that.

And the one before that.

It just got harder and harder each and every time you did this.

Hope was crying. And so was Natasha, albeit silently, as she tried to console the toddler.

"I know, my little love, I know-"

"Mommy!" Hope cried.

"I know, angel. We'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"Mommy!"

"I know."

Once in the car, you let your tears fall, Natasha sobbing in the seat beside you.

"I don't think I can keep on doing this anymore," you admitted. Deciding it was best you explained when Natasha turned to look at you, an incredulous look upon her face, "Keep on seeing her, and not being able to bring her home."

"We'll get there," your [] reached over the centre console to squeeze your hand, "We will. You're the one who's always saying that we've got to take after her namesake and have hope."

"But it almost seems endless, Nat."

"I know, honey." She wetly kissed your tear-stained cheek. Her lips, brushing against it as she continued, "We'll bring her home. I just know it."

"I hope you're right."

***

She was right.

Of course, she was right.

She was Natasha Romanoff, after all.

It was like she just had this inability to be wrong.

But in this case? You were so fucking happy about that.

Granted it had taken a while longer -a good eight months- but finally, you were here.

Exiting the courthouse with Hope in your arms, and Natasha by your side. Bright smiles upon all of your faces, about to take the little girl- Your daughter home.

You would never have to say goodbye to her, like that, ever again.

She was legally a part of your family now. And nothing would ever change that.

"Ready to go home, sweetpea?" Natasha asked the beaming girl.

"I don't know about you," you started, "But I think this deserves celebratory ice cream."

"I think you just want ice cream before dinner."

You gave an overdramatic gasp.

"Why I would never! How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"

Natasha laughed at your antics but nonetheless nodded her head.

"I agree. This does deserve celebratory ice cream."

"Yes!" you exclaimed happily to Hope, your free arm raising above your head in victory, making the girl copy you by raising both of her arms.

She was already taking after you.

Your red-headed girlfriend sighed dreamily after you, as you chanted, "Ice cream! Ice cream! Ice cream!" On your way to the car.

She couldn't remember a time where she was this happy.

It had been a long time since then.

And Natasha just couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life would bring with the two of you now by her side.

***

Permanent Tag List: 

@imnotasuperhero, @veteranwerewolf95, @natasha-danvers, @marvelfansince08love, @higherfurther-romanova, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @sestra-inestro, @thelastavenger-3000, @mixed-fandom-mess,

SFW Tag list: 

@peggycarter-steverogers, @natalia-quinzel,

[huntingingoodwill]

do not watch anna 😭 its really not worth it, i watched it after taking a 5 hour long exam as a treat....nearly started crying bc it just was not good and it was only lenny miller saving the movie! all you need to know about him was he was a cia agent and he did not have much personality which is great bc we can headcanon him 🔥 but i recommend in the heart of the sea cillians character is so cute and i always wanted to backstory him like how this fandom created henry wilson (btw are we open to henry wilson headcanons bc he is so 🥰)

ANDDDD stopppp )): that halloween hc was so cute i don't celebrate the holiday but 'bloody' kisses with jon is just so <33333 i just got out of class so now im thinking professor crane thoughts and like being his s.o. and t.a. would be everything tbh and when jon has to write a report for his darling he'd probably write something bad and mean behind her back like "1/10 do not recommend bad at paying attention keeps spilling my coffee" just so he can keep her as a t.a. forever and darling is just clueless to this and shes fine with it bc cmon she loves him ): and also professor crane being such a pain in the butt like he peeps over her neck while shes grading papers and she leaves a comment criticizing something someone said and jon's all like...

"are you sure about that?"

"yes.....no. why? am i wrong? )):"

and he doesn't say anything else because he's annoying but he makes like that tch. noise ppl do when they hiss in through their teeth, but all because he wants darling to depend on him only !!! you think your brain is smart? THINK AGAIN! all the answers lie with professor crane alone and he will make darling doubt and doubt and doubt until she relies on him for absolutely everything bc he is insane !!!!

i just realized all of my asks are always so long im so sorry that is all now good day/night cbale 🤍 (gonna call you cbale for calling me rpat)

i felt the same way with in time!! just biding my time through the timberlake scenes so i could see 💕raymond💕

5 hours. im sweating thinking about it ☠️

i was holding off writing for lenny bc i was worried i didn’t know enough about him/didn’t have any bright ideas but in that case if you ever wanna talk about lenny go ahead!! i think i’ll be able to get it. authority figure go brr and so on and so forth.

thanks so much for the rec rpat 💕 will definitely put that on my list. once i watch it we can backstory him. ✨together✨

i’m absolutely open to henry hcs! he was the first lil character i ever wrote something for so he is always welcome

professor crane <3

uni students have better things to do than speculate but whenever their students see them they’re like 👀 oop- they lowkey ship them. especially because jc’s such a stiff in that setting that compared to him darling seems infinitely less awkward. a cute opposites attract moment. students glancing at each other whenever they get close during lectures. nosy nosy.

they totally only hang out with each other, eating lunch/coffee breaks in his office, walking through campus together. they're just.. the duo.

darling sits on his desk/kicks her feet up on it to annoy him and stop him from doing work when she's bored. it's a little irritating but he loves her!

her bringing him his sweet coffee every morning >> extra pump of caramel for our favorite professor

i need ur thoughts rpat would jon's handwriting be neat or messy. either way darling's gonna clown on it whenever she gets a note from him.

what a meanie! a total lonely sadboy. he just wants her by his side always. he'd be such a yan creep pre-dating. a cute t.a. asks darling out and suddenly he's moving across the globe the next day. wild. what a coincidence. he'd sneak around trying to figure out her interests. darling walking into his office and catching him fumbling to turn off his phone because he was listening to her favourite band. just a normal guy listening to normal music he found through normal means.

he's so condescending! an awful man. would make her doubt herself sm, just raise his eyebrows and be like "well... if that's what you think." and turn away, keep her confused and in the dark. he does this until he watches her automatically bite her lip and have her eyebrows furrow while going through papers, just seeming really insecure, and he turns from being derisive to make her doubt herself to being so kind and helpful so darling thinks of him as so so nice. when she starts going "jonnn can you help me check this please :(" he knows he's won. yes. i am the big brain man. toxic.

remember the robert/secretary post-it notes thing <3 i think they'd do it too :,) darling returning stacks of graded papers with a little post-it on top that has their initials in a heart. cheesy. them handing back the papers to the class forgetting to remove the post-it and the student who accidentally got it looking at it like 👁👄👁

don't apologise!! i love your long asks. and aw!! yes i'm christian now. americano psycho. and um... ford v ferrari? vroom vroom. i'm realising i don''t know a lot of his movies

also i realised i said id reblog the stephen chow gif then i didnt. i actually will this time

thank u sm robert ily!! <3 love love doing hcs with u

[heliosthegriffin]

He’s channeling his energy productively.

Jaune walked down the halls of Beacon backed to his dorm, it had been a long day so far, not a hard day though, just one of those days that kept going and seemed like they wouldn’t end. Making it back to his room would at least let him spend the rest of day how’d like.

The sounds of laughter followed a group of older girls walked pasted him. It was outside of class time so the students could wear whatever they wanted. They wore clothes that were made to go clubbing.

Jaune’s eyes had a life of their own as they stared at the girls walking past, you’d think having seven sisters would make him more respectful wouldn’t you? But, having a lesbian older sister, and a couple others that were bi, all they did was teach him how to peak without getting caught.

That said he’d doubt his friends would call him out for staring, considering some of the girls here had assets that would give Yang pause.

They didn’t notice him pausing and walked by, a fragrant fruity perfume left behind. Jaune couldn’t help but look behind him, watching those girls go, a sway in their step that cause something in Jaune to rise up.

“Dammit,” Jaune cursed as his pants tightened up.

Jaune look around before he adjusted his pants, so that his zipper wouldn’t fly off by accident again, and tucking his erection down his pant leg so that it’d be less noticeable.

Jaune felt frustration well up in him, this had become a reoccurring problem since he started Beacon. The girls here were just too damn hot! It made walking anywhere a damn hassle and a embarrassment, and he had no way to release any of his damn tension in his dorm, Nora had broken the locks to the bathroom and the door; That had probably been the closest he had ever come to killing somebody.

Letting out an other sigh he resigned himself to shuffling back to the dorm as the blood went flowing elsewhere. He should just thank his lucky stars that he’d never popped a boner anywhere near Ruby, Yang would have found out somehow, probably Nora, and then killed him.

Right as he got close to the dorms, Jaune’s blood-flow was back to normal, but he still felt tense and incredibly worked up.

The sound of weights being lifted, treadmills running, and other exercise equipment sounded from nearby.

The gym was only a short walk away from the dorms. Jaune paused for a moment, Nora and Yang always seemed to go to the gym when they go worked up, maybe he should try it, it’s not like he didn’t go often anyway, so what would it hurt to work out so stress?

---------

Jaune stared at the scroll in his hands, ‘10:03′ where did the time go? He went in at ‘4:26′, went to the weight rack, and then everything seemed to go into a blur, and then the next thing he remembered was a upperclassman telling him the gym was closing in soon.

“Guess, I had more stress to work out than I thought I did.” Jaune said to himself walking to the gym showers, suddenly starting to feel exhausted and wanting to jump into bed at the closest opportunity.

-----------

The next morning was agonizing, his arms felt like they were made of pure, while on fire and being pulled apart! Maybe he went too hard last night.

He was also feeling cavernously hungry. No wonder Nora has an appetite like a black-hole.

------

Jaune’s problem came back in full force during lunch when Yang leaned too far back and the top couple buttons of her shirt decided they wanted a life in the air force.

Leaving Jaune with a delicious view of her cleavage.

Yang looked at her shirt, “Shoot, I actually liked this one.” She then resumed eating.

A hand caressing his leg, brought him out of his vision. “Are you alright, Jaune?” Pyrrha’s warm, gentle voice whispered into his ear

A mildly blush went up his face. “Yeah, just, uh, taking in the view.”

“Oh, ok then, but if your not feeling well, I can take you back to the room.”

“I’m good.” Jaune said a little too fast, as his mind started to fill in the blanks of what his monkey brain wanted to do to Pyrrha.

Pyrrha nodded.

Jaune felt thankful that Yang or Nora hadn’t found a chance to tease him about being alone with Pyrrha. 

Lunch came and went, and Jaune made sure he was the last to get up, so that his problem wouldn’t be seen. He couldn’t exactly fiddle with himself under the table without drawing attention. So with all the swiftness he had, he tucked himself into his pant-leg while getting up.

In hindsight, maybe walking behind his developed female friends, and especially Blake, was a bad idea. His other head disagreed with him.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, combat class was a mess, but mostly cause he can’t being drawn to his friend outfits, they showed so much leg.

He went back to the gym again after class, he went to the treadmill and leg exercise machine. The upperclassman had to tell him to leave again.

-------

The rest of the week seemed to follow a similar pattern for Jaune, he’d wake up sore, but a little less so each day, go to class, end up aroused, then pent up, then go to the gym when he had the free time, and only when he had free time, going into those workout trances made him lose anytime for studying, hanging out, or training. 

Training with Pyrrha was probably the hardest part of his week, literally and metaphorical, because while he loved Pyrrha like a sister, his body constantly reminded him that they were not siblings! It always made him feel disgusted when ever he looked at Pyrrha that way. No way Pyrrha ever looked at him that way.

After training with Pyrrha though, he still had two hours before the gym closed, and he was pent up again.

The upperclassman had told him to get an alarm or something, cause he wouldn’t always be there to tell him to leave.

-------------

Hanging out with team RWBY was always a... Experience, they were fun, don’t get him wrong, but it was like chaos in a bottle. The bottle was also cracked, and there was no cork either.

Today he and the rest of his team came over to hangout, and Ruby insisted they play twister.

Jaune was forming a bridge with his arms bending backwards to stay on there spot, while Ruby was draped across him with one leg over his shoulder and the other over his arm, with her front laying across his stomach, and her arms going in between and around his legs. While Nora lay under him her chest pressing into his back. It was also a really small mat.

Everybody else had dropped out, or refused to play, while Blake controlled the game, and Yang video taped everything.

Then Nora sneezed into his neck. That was the straw that broke the camels back. Sneeze both tickled his neck and scared the life out of Jaune, as he somehow managed to jump a foot into the air from his position, carrying Ruby with him. They landed on Nora with a thud.

Jaune’s position with Nora’s chest on his back and Ruby’s legs on his chest, really wasn’t going to help with his tension, as his lower-body decided to achieve liftoff.

That said he had managed to get a grip on himself lately,. So Jaune calmly got off Nora, and picked up Ruby, putting her next to Nora. All while hiding his full mast, then went to the gym again.

“You think he’s alright?” Ruby asked innocently.

“Probably just rubbing one out.” Nora said full of confidence. “These sweater puppy's of mine are of a quality most women can only dream of, yet here I sit, my majesty a reality, I don’t blame Jaune at all.”

------------

Jaune was watching with wrapt attention as Ms. Goodwitch strode across the arena pointing out several flaws in recorded fights she had on holographic videos. Tapping them with her wand to enhance the smaller images at time.

RIIIP

Her blouse broke, showing off globes of creamy white flesh barely being contained by a purple bra.

Ms. Goodwitch paused, a light blush on her face. “Well, Students this should teach us to be prepared for anything.”

Jaune then got up, walking out the door.

“Mr. Arc, where do you think your going?” His teacher asked severely, as several laughs broke out of the room, many people pointing at him.

“To the gym. I don’t think I’m going to be able to focus much today.” “Very well, any others who wished to join him?”

The gym was very packed that day.

------

Jaune enjoyed hanging out with Pyrrha, she was probably the best friend he ever had. He just wished she would stop having to bend over so often in front of him, or walking in front of him when she did that he couldn’t help but focus on her swaying hips.

Jaune sighed as he felt a rise tower start to erect. “I’m going to the gym be back later.”

Pyrrha merely looked bewildered. She though she had him for sure this time!

----

The transfer students were interesting people, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. They came from all walks of life, all paths, all creeds and kingdoms. From the strictly dressed military like Atlas Academy, to the survival of the fittest types and loosely dressed Shade Academy, or the storied and traditional style of Mistral. They were all interesting, diverse, strong and incredible sexy.

Ever since he ran into that black haired girl and her green haired partner, he somehow kept managing to find them in the most compromising or revealing positions possible.

So, Jaune started hitting the gym harder than ever.

--------------

1 Year later....

----

With a slight shaking arms Jaune pushed the loaded bar back up, exhaling. Then he took a slow, deep inhale as he lowered it down to his chest, then exhaled rising it up again. Inhale, exhale, till he finished his rep.

He rose up from the bench with a grate moan, feeling the warm soreness across his body. It hurt, but in a good way. In a way he couldn’t have appreciated a year ago.

Grabbing his towel he wiped the sweat off his face, and then cleaned off the bench. Treat the gym right, and it’ll treat you right back.

Jaune paused as he walked toward the shower, he had gotten into a habit of showering here so he didn’t have to make his teammate's rush to clean up, there was wall of mirror he looked himself over finding nothing of note, beside himself sweaty and his hair kinda sticky looking.

The water was cold, but high pressured, helping unwind any knots on his back and wash off grime better. He had started taking cold showers more frequently as in the field your rarely got to wash off in general, and if you did, it’s not likely you’ll get hot water, so it he thought it was probably best to get into the habit now.

Working out felt good, taking a shower afterword was just perfect. The only thing that would make it better was wearing his onesie, he had a right to comfort! But, it had gone mysteriously missing after he met Coco on his walk back from the gym half a year ago. So, for now he was stuck wearing white tank-top, and a pair of cotton shorts back to the dorm.

He waved by to the upperclassman about to close the gym, and left for his dorm. He may not have started going to the gym for the right reason, but over the course of a year, he felt like he had grown from then. In fact... what was the reason he started going to the gym? Something about women? Eh, must have been nothing. Ever since he started taking his training double seriously during the Vytal festival, it was like he just didn’t feel dating anybody till he around to being a huntsman, like that there was more to life than dating or stuff.

Jaune ran a hand through his hair, he had started growing it out at the beginning of the second year and now Pyrrha and everybody else vetoed him getting a hair cut! 

“Hahah, jokes on them though, they have to brush the knots out of my hair!”

Walking back to his dorm a fruity perfume pasted his nose, a vaguely familar laughter along with it. Then a slightly familar group of girls were walking in the opposite direction as him. They looked like they came back from a night on the town. He liked the way they dressed, it complimented themselves very well.

As he walked pasted them they paused and stared at him, Jaune paused too, but shrugged, giving them a broad smile and a wave before walking back to his dorm.

Jaune failed to miss the women eyeing fucking him as he walked away, all of them red face and heavy breathing.

“Hmm, why do I feel like I’m in danger?”

----------

Jaune wasn’t sure when, but he had grown into a morning person. It was fun to get up in the morning now, he liked watching the sun rise, seeing the sky change colors on his morning runs. 

Being team leader meant having responsibilities, so being a early riser now meant getting up his team, they were going to be third-years in a not small amount of time. So he made sure that they got up at a reasonable time to prepare for the day. Along with the fact on mission they would have to get up before the sun rise on most days.

Also, he especially liked to watch his teammates get up, it was entertaining in different ways from Nora crashing out of bed, to Ren rising from a blanket cocoon, and Pyrrha’s silly little death threats to any man stealing bitches out there.

He tended to wake them up with a gentle approach putting hand on there shoulders and carefully shaking them awake. He had forgotten how strong he was a couple of months ago when he sent Nora flying into a wall by accident, so had tried to be gentle.

The rest of Team Jnpr had learned a couple months ago that they no longer had a choice in waking up early, the only choice was before the sun was up or after.

Jaune put on his uniform for class, he frowned a little bit, as it was tighter than it was yesterday. Maybe it’s new? Guess it needs to be broken in.

Team RWBY met them at breakfast, Ruby refused to let her other bestie get ahead in the leader game by letting just JNPR get up early! Jaune didn’t notice but he often got murderous glances from Blake.

Eating breakfast Jaune felt a crick in his back so he leaned back.

Pop-pop-pop-pop, RIIIIP!

His buttons on his shirt fired off like a machine gun shattering against the walls of the cafeteria, and then his shirt fell to pieces, revealing his sculpted torso, arms and abs.

“Ahh man, I liked that shirt.” Then continued eating, not aware of the stares his friends, other students, and Ms. Goodwitch were giving his body, eyeing him up as much or more than he used to do to them.

AN: If this Jaune was ever put into a situation where couldn’t exercise for like a week, his libido would come back with vengeance and make him a unstoppable sex monster. That said, what are the odds of that happening?

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Grand Gestures

Request: A request for my love, George Weasley! Post-war (Fred is alive obvs) and all is good and well, and they've been ignoring their feelings for one another for so long and now, because George almost lost Fred and he's tired of ignoring how he feels so he shows up where she works, and just says he's in love with her and is fed up with waiting for them to pull their heads out of their asses! Extra fluff please?? You're the best Millie 💛💛💛 - @dreamer821

A/N: JJ! Thank you so much for requesting, and for trusting me with your idea! I truly hope I’ve done it justice! This is a load of fluff - just some good old fluff, because why shouldn't George get that? I’m also 12 followers away from 1000 followers!!!!! which is insane!!! I have a big celebration planned so let's get there! As always, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of war and some swearing BUT THE FLUFF IS SO CUTE.

Word count: 2.2k

The Daily Prophet had a reputation within the wizarding world; it was known globally for its hard-hitting expos on the highest wizards in power across the globe. It had been particularly damning towards Albus Dumbledore upon his fall from grace with the rise of the Dark Lord yet backtracked on their view of the Headmaster upon his death.

You had started work at the publication six months after completing your eighth year at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Second Wizarding War had disturbed your final year of education. But the defeat of the Dark Lord allowed you to go back to Hogwarts to receive your NEWTs.

The war had taken so much from you; you had lost friends and family members through the Battle of Hogwarts. Memories of the events were burned into your brain; they couldn’t be avoided in the late hours of the night when your tears would fall silently down your face.

However, whilst the war had taken so much from you, it had brought you closer to your oldest friend George Weasley.

Growing up in the next village from Ottery St. Catchpole, the Weasley family were the closest wizarding family to yours other than the Diggory’s. You spent most weekends at The Burrow being spoiled rotten by Molly Weasley. Your parents worked so often; they felt awful for leaving you so much but as you grew older, you reassured them that you really didn’t mind spending time with the Weasley family.

The more time you spent at The Burrow; the more attached you grew to the twins. Being the same age as them, you fell into an easy friendship with them – playing pranks on their elder brothers, practicing Quidditch in the meadow behind their home. The friendship with the twins was something you treasured, and it followed you to Hogwarts where you were sorted into the same house.

Fred and George shouted the loudest when the Sorting Hat cried out Gryffindor after being placed on your head. Your grin matched theirs when you sat down across from them at the table. Charlie patting your shoulder in celebration as you sat next to him.

Your time at Hogwarts was defined by three things; your academic skills, the rising tension about the rebirth of the Dark Lord, and your love for George Weasley.

You consistently came at the top of your class in every subject; spending hours in the library, working on essays and revising topics you could recite like the back of your hand. George lost count how many times he had dragged you out of the library after curfew; after you had promised him just one more hour of studying.

Falling in love with George Weasley was the next natural step in your relationship. Your heart started to race every time he smiled in your direction; feeling your face heat slightly at any attention he gave you. Your skin felt overheated each time he would grab your hand out of the blue; knocking the breath out of you when he did.

Every day you told yourself you’d tell him; you’d confess what you had felt for so long.

Then the war came.

----------

Upon seeing him alive, standing in the Great Hall, covered in dust but his eyes still the brown you had come to love, you had thrown yourself into his arms.

He met you halfway; his arms wrapping tightly around you as he kept you pressed against.

“I thought…” You trail off, tears falling down your face.

George hushes you, “Not in a million years, love.”

You sniffle, your hands patting him down, checking for injuries. “Love, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

You nod rapidly, “I’m okay, not hurt, I just have some cuts and bruises.”

Something in George’s chest relaxes at that; relief flows through his body when your confirm that you’re okay. Through the entire battle, his mind was occupied with you – panicking over where you were and what was happening. Dread pooled in his stomach at the thought of you hurt.

He didn’t want the day to end without him having the chance to tell you how he feels about you.

But when he saw you running through the Great Hall to get to him; he wanted to tell you – wanted to tell you everything, but his mouth couldn’t find the words. So he settles for burying his face in your hair, inhaling the scent he had come to associate with love.

--------

It had been a year since the war ended, since Voldemort’s defeat and yet you hadn’t taken the chance that had been offered so many times.

When you joined him on his walks; the sun shining, his eyes brighter than the week before. There was a chance then to tell him.

When you found him in the kitchen in the Burrow at midnight, making enough hot chocolate for two because he knew you’d join him. In the silence, there was a chance then.

The war had brought you closer together; you started staying at the Burrow more. Molly only too happy to let you stay if it meant that George was starting to sleep through the night without waking from the nightmares of Fred’s near death experience. It had truly scarred George; the moment when he found him unconscious had been the darkest minutes of his life – he felt he had no direction; as if the very reason for his being on earth had been taken away. It had taken time for George to feel like he could let Fred out of his sight.

Chance after chance had presented itself to you, but you wanted to be in a place where you worried about your own mental health as well as his.

The war had been devastating, and whilst it had brought the two of you closer together, it had destroyed part of you that needed time to heal.

You were happy to be his shoulder to cry on when his thoughts got to be too much. For now, you were content with the walks and the midnight hot chocolates.

----------

George had had enough. He couldn’t keep his feelings from you any longer; he was close to combusting from what he felt for you.

Groaning, he lets his head fall onto the kitchen table. Fred laughs at the sight, “Still pining are we, Georgie?”

“I just don’t know how to say it, Freddie.”

“How about something grand?”

“What do you mean?”

“Put on a show, George! We’re the Weasley twins, we’ve never done anything that wasn’t a spectacle.”

George lifts his head from the table, “You’re right but what should I do?”

A smirk breaks out across his twin’s face. Fred has had this planned since he realised the romantic feelings between the two of you and the absolute obliviousness of the both of you.

--------

George fixes his patterned tie in a shop window across the road from the offices. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead but it soon flops back over. He let it grow out after the war and hadn’t had the time to get it cut since. He takes a deep breath, smiling at himself in the window. He can do this, he tells himself.

The doors to the Daily Prophet are never closed; instead, running on revolving doors that journalists and photographers constantly run in and out of. George wonders mindlessly whether any of them get dizzy from running in and out all day, chasing leads and capturing photos.

He shrugs to himself, stepping into the road. His heart is in his mouth with every step he takes towards the doors. His hands shake slightly as he enters the seemingly plain office building, but his breath is always taken away by the ornateness of it once entered. It’s disguised as a simple red brick building for muggles, to keep them off the scent of witches and wizards, but entering the foyer to the building, George wonders if he’ll ever enter a place as grandly decorated.

As he stands in the lift, giving the number of your floor to the lift operator, his voice breaks. He blushes at the sound of it before repeating himself, clearing his throat first.

The lift goes too fast for his liking; the butterflies in his stomach turning into a full blown riot when the doors open to the familiar floor. He had brought you lunch here a thousand times, if not more. Eating at your desk as you worked on another story and George occupied himself by watching you work.

Thinking back on it, George wonders if you’ve realised that he’s in love with you and you haven’t said anything as to not let him down.

He shakes his head clear of that thought, getting off the elevator. He won’t talk himself out of this; not now, not when he has come this close and listened to Fred’s every word.

Your desk is situated to the back of the room; next to the large window that covers the expanse of the wall. It provides a beautiful view of muggle London, but George would argue that the most beautiful view in all of London is you. You’ve pushed your hair back from your face as you shuffle papers on your desk; you huff as a piece of hair falls into your eyes. You’ve rolled the sleeves of your blouse up, exposing the tattoo on your right forearm that you got in memoriam for the family you had lost in the war. It was one of George’s favourite things about you; you were happy to move on, to start living your life again, but you would not forget.

A large smile breaks over your face at the sight of George in your office. He visited so often but you were never bothered by the man you had fallen in love with as a teenager.

“George,” You call, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

He waves his hand in a nonchalant manner, “Oh… nothing, I was just in the neighbourhood.”

You glare playfully at the red-headed man, “I don’t believe you for one second, Weasley.”

George gasps, placing a hand on his heart, “You hurt me, (Y/N).”

“Oh hush,” You grin, “How can I help you today, George?”

George takes a deep breath, preparing himself, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“I’m all ears. Anything for you, Georgie.”

He smiles at you softly; overcome with what he feels for you. He’s never loved anyone like this; he’s had crushes in the past but that’s all they were – simple, childish crushes. But this; this is it for him. You’re it for him; if he could propose marriage to you here and now, he would because he knows with every single fibre of his being that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

George swings himself up onto the desk in front of yours; he pauses for a second to see if the desk will take his weight. He smiles satisfied when the desk doesn’t collapse under him – that would definitely ruin his plans for what he has to say.

“What are you doing?” You shout, your hands reaching to pull him down.

George bends at the knee, lowering himself to be closer to your level, “I’m making a grand gesture, love.”

You frown up at him, taking a step closer in case he falls, “You’re what?”

“I’m making a grand gesture, are you ready?”

You look at him with a puzzled expression on your face, but curiosity burns through you. “As I’ll ever be. Show me your grand gesture, George.”

George stands to his full height, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes a deep breath.

Now or never.

“I love you!” George shouts, arms spread as wide as his smiles as he balances precariously on your neighbour’s desk.

You hold a piece of paper to your face to hide the large grin growing across your face at the sight of the man you had loved since you were a teenager declare his feelings for you in such a grand gesture.

Your shoulders shake from the effort of keeping your laughter repressed. This had Fred written all over it, but you knew that George would happily go along with it. It had the Weasley twins written all over it even if it wasn’t one of them declaring their love for you.

“What do you say, love? Do you love me back?” He asks, eyebrows raised, waiting for your answer.

You stay silent for a minute; making him wait. Eileen at the desk to the left of yours throws a ball of paper at your head, “Honey, if you don’t tell him you love him, I will.”

You start to laugh, “Yes, Georgie. I love you too.”

Relief washes over him; making his legs feel like jelly as he jumps down from the desk. The smile doesn’t leave his face once – not as he pulls you in, not as he tilts your face, and not as he finally, after so so long, presses his lips to yours.

“I’ve waited so long to tell you and so long to kiss you,” George whispers when he pulls away.

“I think I’ve waited just as long as you have,” You quip.

“Grand gestures, aye?”

You laugh, kissing him again. It’s a while before you reply, but when you do you’re whispering, “Thank Merlin for grand gestures.”

********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @black-lake-confessions​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @imboredandneedalife​ @levylovegood​

George Weasley taglist: @susceptible-but-siriusexual

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #10: The Way You’re Falling In Love

Words:  ca. 2,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: lime Content: heavily implied smut, legal drug use Song: Love Burning Alive - Lena Fayre

The Way You’re Falling In Love

You should know by now not to check the pictures Elsa sends you while you’re at work. It’s one of those places with a ‘collaborative open office layout’ which really just means everyone and their mother could be up in your shit at any moment, but in the end that doesn’t stop you from furtively holding the phone in your lap when you hope no one is looking and popping open that messenger app for a cool five seconds expecting a quick snap of Elsa’s delectable cleavage or her ass in those high-waist red jeans of hers, but nooo this time she had to take it to a whole other level because she’s wearing goddamn lingerie. More precisely, she’s wearing black lace lingerie with purple trim, garter belt and everything, sitting at the end of a leather couch with her long legs crossed demurely in front of her, and yes that delectable cleavage is there too, but the real killer is the way she’s biting her lip as she looks at the camera, because she knows what that does to you.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Anna?”

The words nearly make you jump out of your seat but when you look up after stashing the phone under your butt and see that goddamn smirk plastered on Kristoff’s face you can tell he wasn’t even trying to peep, he’s just bustin’ your chops.

You try to weasel your way out of the embarrassment with a “Kristoff! Don’t scare me like that!” but he just cocks his head slightly because you know you’re good and busted.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says as he sets your coffee from the group order down on the corner of your desk, while you force yourself to take some long deep breaths, hoping it will help the color drain from your face. But then your mind drifts back to that photo and really the only thing you can do is get up and stomp over to the women’s bathroom and snag a stall just so you can open your phone again and stare at Elsa in all her glory some more.

You know, it’s really unfair of her to put you in this position, and she should know that.

Anna: elsaaaa i’m at woooork! but also 👀👀

Elsa: so am i 😏

That winky face. You swipe back to the photo. Fuck me, she’s right. The view from the windows, the degree hanging on the wall, the snow globe on the shelf with the little ice castle on the side of a mountain. You’ve been in that room. She’s sending you fucking boudoir lingerie photos from her corner office.

Elsa: meet me for lunch?

Anna: i’ll grab us some tacos

Elsa: oh, I’m not actually hungry 😉

Anna: yes ma'am 😳

It should be be scary, the way you’re falling in love like a skydiver jumping out of a plane without a parachute.

But it isn’t.

-💋-

You weren’t exactly expecting to meet the love of your life at Sally Sapphic’s WLW Speed dating in West Hollywood, but there you were on a Friday night, halfway to regretting ditching Kristoff at the firm’s Happy Hour for this, when she sat down across from you. Even in the dim afternoon light of the local queer dive bar she was stunning in her black leather jacket and white button-down shirt, the slack purple tie around her neck barely an after thought. And of course there was her sun-bleached platinum blonde hair and vibrant blue eyes, the impeccable ruby red lipstick. It was sheer luck that you managed to stop your gaping by the time she actually set her Very-Busy-Person phone down and made eye contact.

That was it. You were done for from that moment. You made it through the pleasantries of introductions without incident (hello Elsa), mostly just trying to make sure your mouth was putting one sensible word after another just to keep that light shining in her eyes because somehow it seemed like everything you said put yet another smile on her face, the kind that you could see immediately in the corners of her eyes, and in the slow build up of red in her cheeks. Those moments where you got to fully appreciate her long, dark eyelashes because she was dodging your gaze to avoid outright blushing.

And then all of a sudden you could hear the record scratch and the music halt when Elsa mentioned she was a lawyer, and was in fact just about to start a new job at a law firm on Monday.

“Ummm, that wouldn’t happen to be Weselton Westerguard and Associates… would it?” you asked, a slight sense of doom creeping into your voice.

Elsa furrowed her brow. “It would. Let me guess, you work there too?”

“Yeah,” you admitted glumly. “I’m one of the firm’s private investigators.”

“I’ll bet you are,” Elsa chuckled. “What department?”

“Family law?”

“Oh, well that’s a relief! I’m in corporate, class-action specialist.” When she saw the puzzled look on your face, she added, “That means it wouldn’t actually be unethical for us to start a relationship, since I wouldn’t be your direct superior.”

That got your attention. “You’ve decided that’s what you want already? From this five minute chat?”

“No,” Elsa answered, raising her drink to her lips. “I decided that the moment you walked through the door.”

-💋-

The sex is incredible.

Scratch that—the sex is out of this world.

It’s the kind of sex that makes you feel like the bottom guy in the galaxy brain meme, but the meme keeps getting more levels the more times you two bang each other.

It’s ‘i could quit my job to have sex more’ kind of sex except that you’re too busy having sex at your job so maybe it’s more like 'if they fire me for this it was worth it’ kind of sex.

It’s 'you used to tell yourself “Shitface McSideburns was a righteous asshole but at least he was a good fuck” but now you realize that was a goddamn lie’ kind of sex (which is kind of sad, but hey, you’re getting over it).

Seriously though, it’s the kind of sex that makes you realize you didn’t know what sex could be, had no FUCKING clue in retrospect. Because it’s more than just sex, it’s more than lips and tongues and muffled screaming (and un-muffled screaming), it’s more than a quickie in the office supply closet (though you have your fair share of those), it’s more than sex so good you could write songs about it—and though you can’t quite call it making love just yet, it’s more than that, too.

It’s not just that Elsa is some kind of lesbian sex wunderkind (she is), or that maybe you’re finally getting into That Kinky Stuff (you are), and it’s not even about the fucking orgasms (dear god so many orgasms).

It’s everything.

It’s the way she likes you to pet her head when you’re being gentle, the way she likes you to pull her hair when you’re being rough. It’s the way sometimes she doesn’t even say hello when she comes home, just pushes you up against the nearest wall and starts pulling your pants off (which, for clarity, you’re totally cool with). It’s the way she likes to rub her thumb across your cheek when it’s all said and done and you’re both just lying there, utterly exhausted.

It’s the way she’s never once even asked you about Sideburns McFuckface, because even though you were still kinda getting over him when you met her, he just doesn’t matter anymore.

It’s the way sometimes you don’t even have to have sex. Sometimes you’re just curled up on the couch together for movie night when she catches your eye for the millionth time and this involuntary shiver cascades over your body because goddamn have you seen her?? You get to date her??!

And yes, it’s the way she likes to whisper 'fuck me, sis’ in your ear when you’re making her come, because she knows what it does to you, and she likes what it makes you do to her.

More than anything, it’s the way you never stop wanting her—never stop wanting to kiss her and push her and please her and punish her.

It’s everything.

The sex is everything because Elsa is everything.

-💋-

You’re not quite sure how it came to this — packing the remainder of your belongings into the trunk and back seats of your Velocity Blue Shelby GT500 Mustang on a warm summer evening in July. All the other things you used to own that you couldn’t manage to pawn off on friends are in the dumpster around the corner.

When you’re done, you pull your stash out from the glove compartment and light up one last joint, inhaling deeply because quite frankly you deserve it. And it’s the good shit too, because who knows if Vegas will have good weed or not.

After a few minutes Elsa pops out of the front door of the apartment and dangles the keys at you. “You sure you’ve got everything you need?” she asks.

You take another hit and give her a long look. “Yeah, pretty sure I do. All the things that matter, at least.”

She looks at you for a moment trying to discern your (purposefully ambiguous) statement, before she smiles and starts flinging the keys around on her index finger as she walks over to your spot by the car, plucks the joint out of your lips and takes a hit of her own. And she only coughs a little bit; she’s been trying, but despite all her swagger, she’s still a bit FRAGILE!-handle-with-care in some respects.

“Okay, that is good,” she says when she’s recovered, and then she drops the roach on the pavement, stamps it out with one high-heeled boot (always practice fire safety in California, kids!) and then grabs you by the collar of your shirt and kisses the ever-living SHIT out of you.

“What was that for?” you manage, when you catch your breath after she finally lets up.

“For always being there for me, no matter what. No matter the consequences.”

Right, right, the consequences — that’s how it came to this. Turns out 'if they fire me for this it was worth it’ sex might actually get you fired.

Both of you.

And like, yeah, you could have gotten jobs somewhere else; LA is a big city and there’s no shortage of work for people with your skills. But sometimes you’ve gotta take a step back and look at the bigger picture; because there is so very clearly the Before Elsa part of your life—ordinary, stable, entertaining but unexciting—and the After Elsa part of your life, which can only be described as a blizzard of questionable decisions which has resulted in everything in your life that isn’t Elsa being left behind in the dust.

And it doesn’t even really phase you, because Elsa is right there with you. No matter the consequences. There’s no going back to Before Elsa, and maybe there never was. Maybe the point of no return was the moment you met her.

“I love you,” you say, when you remember that reality still exists and find Elsa gazing at you with those sparkly blue eyes of hers.

“Fuck!” Elsa exclaims. “I can’t believe you beat me to it. I love you so much, damn it.” She kisses you and you kiss her back and then she says, “You ready to get this show on the road?”

“Yes, ma'am,” you confirm. “But you’re driving first. There’s something I gotta look up on my phone.”

She squints at you, suddenly suspicious, but acquiesces and makes her way around to the driver’s side of the car. With one last look around at your surroundings you say a silent goodbye to LA and get in with her.

Later, when you’re out on the highway heading toward Las Vegas and Elsa’s eyes are safely locked on the road, you pull your phone out and bring up google.

best wedding venues in las vegas

You might as well start doing your research.

[yutahoes]

Sakura

(Part Three)

One - Two - Three

genre : Chaptered, Fluff

pairing : childhood friends: soccer player! Nakamoto Yuta x single mom! Y/N

word count : 1.3k words

You’ll always be his Sakura.

@ailoveyuta @loona-4-eva @aiforyuu @2-3-t-i​ @cosmiclatte28 @url-lindo-sexy​ @yutazen01​ ​

Practice games have been stressing out Yuta lately. Playing in an international soccer league has always been his dream. A dream he easily got because of passion and determination.

He was in fifth grade when he realized what he wanted, to play soccer full time. He’s happy that his parents are supportive of this dream. That she encouraged him to do what his heart wants.

He should have done the same for her.

A blue envelope was on top of the box. Maybe that was the letter he was reading before heading to bed last night. Letter number fifty-five. The realization of her dreams.

He’s been reading it countless times that by now, he memorized how her letters start.

‘Hi, Yuta. How is soccer going?’

It would make him smile. Her cursive penmanship and the little doodles at the edge of the paper.

‘I think I just found my dream. I want to be a mom someday.’

He remembered how it surprised him. She likes to draw. Back in elementary school, she would always tell everyone that she’ll be an illustrator or an artist. Now that she’s in her second year of college, she wants to be a mom?

But her explanation of how amazing kids are, how their eyes widen in curiosity made him convinced that this is really what she wants. She’s always like that, she notices the little things in life. Yuta never imagined her as a mom before, she’s so childish when they’re together.

But now, she’s different. More matured. More responsible. Like a mom. She really did achieve her dream. Chicago had done so much to her.

                                                  ----

It was the last day of their tenth grade. Yuta was lying down on the grass, his head on Y/N’s lap. He just came from soccer practice and his body is already beat that he just wanted to lie down and sleep. But his mind had been whirling, unable to focus on just sleeping. “Are you really going to Chicago?” he asked, which made the girl nod. “Can’t you just stay here? You can just stay at our house. My mom can talk to your mom.”

But she just smiled. “There’s only me and eomma left, I can’t get separated from eomma.” Yuta hummed, that’s true. “I also don’t want her to miss the opportunity of going to Chicago.”

“But it’s halfway across the globe. It’s nighttime there then daytime here,”  he said, sitting down with his back facing her. He doesn't want to look at her right now. "You promised that we'll go to the same college."

"I did. But Yuta, you'll go to sports and I'll be an art major, we won't be together as well." She reasoned out. "Besides, I'll write to you whenever I have the chance. I'll tell you everything."

He pouted that made her laugh. They're already high school students yet he still looks like a child. "You'll have to learn English." She giggled at that. Of course, she has to. And he wished that it was enough to stop her from going somewhere that's 13 hours away by plane?

                                              ----

"Just tell her that you're in love with her," Taeyong claimed once while they're cleaning their homeroom. What? "Maybe that will stop her from going away."

"I’m not in love with her," Yuta said loud enough that his voice echoed through the room. Luckily, there's only him and Taeyong. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Taeyong just shrugged, feeling hopeless at his friend. The door opened and she peeked into the room, checking if they're finished with their cleaning. "Yah, let's eat tteokbokki."

It was their favorite hang-out place, a tteokbokki near their school. And although Y/N can't eat so spicy foods, Yuta would always ask for a mild one with lots of cheese. Taeyong would always share things happening in the broadcast club and she would share things from the art club. Yuta, as competitive as he is, would share things from the sports club.

But today, he's just staring at the plate of cheesy rice cakes. "Yuta, are you alright?" Y/N asked which made him nod, staring at her. He took some tissues to wipe her fingers full of the sauce that made Taeyong smile.

"You're going to miss this when you go abroad." She only nodded. Taeyong just watched the two of them. "Oh, I forgot. I have to do something, I'll go first." And he just left, surprising the two of them. Y/N mumbled that he is weird and Yuta nodded.

His phone vibrated, a message from Taeyong 'Tell her you love her'. Yuta rolled his eyes, closed his phone, and kept it in his pocket.

His first regret. He really should have done it.

                                                       ----

It was still 4 am when Yuta's phone vibrated that woke him up. He almost sat up in surprise that startled his manager. "What happened?" Mark asked, completely woken up. The older just shook his head that made the younger go back to laying on his bed.

"Mark!" The younger sat up in annoyance. "She messaged me." Who? Yuta showed the younger one his phone that has a message from someone named Y/N. 'Yuta, it's Y/N. Can I call you?' "Mark, what should I do?"

The younger clicked the small phone button on top of the screen that startled Yuta. Her voice can be heard saying hello and Yuta coughed lightly to regulate his voice. "Hi. Sorry for disturbing you." She said that made him shake his head. "You have a game today, right?" How did she know that? "Jae told me."

"Yeah. Later." He answered coolly and he heard Mark chuckle. He threw a pillow at him. "Are you watching?"

She hummed. "Jae didn't go to school today. He wanted to watch you." He didn't go to school? "Now, he doesn't want to eat lunch. So, can you talk to him?" She asked shyly. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Yuta."

"It's fine. Let me talk to him." He heard shuffling in the background as well as her voice calling out for him. A cheerful hello can be heard and he lightly chuckled, “Hi, Jae. It’s Yuta.”

“Are you practicing now?” he asked but before Yuta could answer, he raced him in talking. “You have to win the game. I know you’ll do great.” He smiled, leaning on his bed, just hearing his voice. “Eomma and I will be cheering for you, samchon.”

Yuta chuckled. He’s so cute. “Okay. I’ll do my best, buddy. But please listen to your mom and eat lunch.” A whine escaped his lips that made the older laugh. “You can’t cheer loudly if you don’t eat.” He was about to revolt when he continued, “And I can’t score if you can’t cheer loudly.”

“Okay. I will eat lots and lots so you can score a lot of goals.” Yuta laughed. He’s so cute.

He heard how Jae called for his mom saying that he’s going to eat and to give him lots of rice so he can cheer loudly. “Thank you,” Y/N said from the other line, and Yuta smiled. “He’s so talkative. It’s new.”  

He is. "You were like that when you were young." He heard her giggle and he smiled. "The game will air at ten pm in Korea. Are you going to wait that long?"

She gasped, obviously surprised. "Jae will get mad at me if he misses it." Yuta chuckled once again. "Thank you for your time, Yuta. You can go back to practice now. Sorry."

"It's still 4 am here." She muttered an 'Oh my God' that made him laugh. "It's fine. I'm going to train early." That took Mark's attention.

When Yuta put down his phone, his manager just shook his head. "You sound like a dad talking to his wife and children," Mark commented.

He threw a pillow at him while watching him head to the bathroom then shook his head. That's not a bad thought.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Four

I feel like I’m not in my right state of mind when writing this. 😂 You can message me if you want to be tagged or you can send me comments or questions. Thank you for reading. 😍

[canonconspiracy]

The Millennium Rose (Teaser)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters

Fanfiction By: @rmorningstar21​

Pairing: Yami Yugi/Atem x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minor violence, loneliness (?), nothing gets more violent than the series itself - Rated T.

Posted on AO3 (rmorningstar21) as The Millenium Rose; Posted on Wattpad (rmorningstar21) as The Cursed Millennium Rose, and The Struggling Millennium Rose - Third book for Wattpad coming soon as “The Rejuvenated Millennium Rose”. 

AN: Okay, so I will be the first to admit that my The Millennium Rose series is an older series of mine - one of the first chapter stories I truly got invested in.  It’s been on hiatus for quite some time, but that hiatus will be coming to an end soon. For those of you who haven’t stumbled upon this on either platform, I wanted to share a little teaser (first chapter) of my series.  This follows from Season 1 onwards..  Reader and Atem are married before Pharaoh Atem is sealed in the Millennium Puzzle. I was going to end this one after the Battle City Finals, but due to popular request, posting will begin after my current commission chapter story is up.  I typically age up, but was started prior to doing so.  Due to the rating, I haven’t changed that.  Wanted to keep it accessible for all readers.

A chill crawled up your spine, stinging with each centimeter it moved, grasping your hands tightly to your arms to attempt to shield yourself.  Though you were not sure exactly what you were shielding yourself from, albeit the pain or the darkness that was engulfing your body. As you felt the darkness falling hard upon you, like a weighted blanket that you could not hold, a faint light laid on the floor, illuminating each twisting maze as you stepped.  Each time you walked further through the maze, you could feel the pain increasing, beginning to make your steps more and more tedious. You attempted to call out, to call for his name in the dark, with no avail. Your mouth opened, but as the air escaped your lungs, your voice did not ring. It was almost like choking - the pain that strode into your lungs from your throat - but you could not utter a single word.

Hours passed as you circled the maze, walking in each and every stone cold direction, the pain of the chills slowly seething your skin.  Your surroundings were blackness, and yet you seemed to walk in a labyrinth, swearing that you had turned this way prior, been in each and every spot before, again and again.  Inaudible cries of pain burned in your throat as you continued to walk on, your legs growing tired, lungs constricting. Hopelessness swelled in your chest as you continued on and on, silent tears beginning to fall from your tired eyes.  

Your tired, crying eyes met a figure, merely ten feet away from where you were walking in what seemed like a room.   For a moment you froze, studying the figure, but as you were met with lilac orbs, you took your exhausted legs and ran towards the figure.  The small glimmer of hope taunted you, showing you the man that kept your legs going on your weighted journey, lonesome darkness entangling down to your very soul.  Hope swelled in your chest as you ran, but as you did the room began to get further away, his lilac orbs seeming to grow smaller and smaller away from your vision. Still your feet patted forward until there was no ground beneath you.

As the ground had disappeared, you had begun your journey downward.  Hastily the gravity took your body, plummeting into a deep abyss. Tears once again rained from your eyes.  Your heart dropped as you did, and you tried so hard to scream, feeling it scratching at your throat, constricting it.

He was gone, and you had failed to reach him.

***

You awoke with soaked cheeks and labored breaths, before glancing around and realizing that you were not in that labyrinth any longer.  Another nightmare, you thought to yourself, though every day you lived the nightmares that you slept with.  I miss him.   Ironically, your nightmares had held your memory intact over time, reminding you of the reason you kept on fighting day in and day out in this monotonous world.  Though you would never be able to forget his handsome face, his lilac orbs burned into your skull. As your y/e/c eyes scanned the room, it was simply a relatively plain room surrounding you, little trinkets upon your dresser in the form of plush monsters, and your deck sitting comfortably next to a kuriboh plush that you had grown to adore.  Attempting to steady your breath, you wiped your face free of the salty sadness and glanced at the time flashing upon your alarm clock, your eyes still holding a light redness from when you had been crying in your sleep. Springing to your feet, you nearly fell over, steadying yourself on the side of your bed before further action. Your head was woozy with the newfound movement, the room slowly coming back to you as your dizzy spell passed you.

Making your way to your small, gray walled bathroom, you threw your prior clothes aside and hopped into a quick shower.  Hastily you scrubbed yourself with your f/s body gel, not getting enough time to even enjoy the kisses of the warm water that drenched over your frigid body.  In less than five minutes time, you were already dressed, hair dried, and grabbing at your black messenger bag that laid next to the door. You tucked your deck safely into your bag before gentle fingers reached to touch lightly upon your golden wristband.  For a moment, you allow your eyes to close, thinking of your wristband. It held the symbol to keep your life intact as well as cursed, leaving you to deal with the merits and disappointments of this life. Then as your eyes were still closed, those lilac eyes showed in your mind, reminding you of the reason you keep on with this silly charade, hoping that one day everything will change.

Practically jogging out the door, you made your way to your new life once again.  Domino High School, as you read upon the sign, looked bustling and boring from the eyes of a woman who had attended countless high school’s over time.  The crowds had shown that it was definitely a more lively school than the last you had attended, though not as lively as the one you had attended prior.  Maybe if you did not forever look 16, you would not have to attend so many boring lectures in your life, but you had attended plenty in your time, across the globe.  Each curriculum merely had minor changes to it, if any, and you had to purposely get things wrong from time to time to not seem out of the ordinary. The world changed and grew around you, while you stayed the same, the same h/c h/l, and young y/e/c orbs.  The only thing that had changed over time was your skin, which had lightened from your Egyptian tan to a pale ivory, just as everyone else looked around you. It was just another boring day in monotony for you, but there was a presence around that had kept you on your toes as you entered your newfound high school.  You could feel something was different in the world now, which had rose excitement and fear in your young body.

***

You were coming out of your geometry class, holding your books tightly to your chest and walking quickly to your locker before lunch, your eyes at your feet as you walked.  As you did so, you were lost in thought, and before you knew it, you whacked directly into something solitary, causing you to stumble backwards, staring up in a moment of terror.  What you had found was that you ended up slamming directly into another student, and blush began rising in your cheeks from the embarrassment. It was needless to say that the boy looked unpleasant with his round face that seemed to hold a permanent scowl.  The boy looked as if he were maybe 17, largely boned, while you had a very tiny frame, yet he glared angrily at you as if you had pushed him off of a cliff. On the other hand, you were the one with the books scattered all over the ground, and the impact had caused your tailbone to whack the floor, causing a sharp, yet temporary pain.

“I’m so sorry!” you said frantically, grabbing your books quickly and pulling yourself to your feet.  You bowed slightly in respect and began to rush off before you felt a pull at the back of your uniform.  Seconds later, you were pinned against the wall, staring up at the unpleasant boy you had angered, his face looking even more unpleasant than previously.  It was as if the anger building in him was surfacing due to what you would assume was a slight inconvenience.

“Don’t think just because you’re new you can get away with that,” he growled, pressing harder against your shoulder.  

Just my luck that I run into the school bully on my first day here, you thought to yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.  This was not particularly an uncommon occurrence for you, seeing as you had attended plenty of high schools over the last couple thousand years, but nevertheless, you were still a relatively scrawny girl with a 16 year old body.  Old souls still did not have super strength, after all. Though you could likely send him to the shadow realm, doing something so rash on your first day would have been a mistake that you would have to live with for the rest of the time you could attend school there, and you shied away from that idea.  “I didn’t mean to harm you,” you said cowering back, pain beginning to build in the shoulder he was pressing on. “I-I it’ll never happen again.” You attempted your best fake smile, and yet it dropped almost immediately as the rage fueled his face, watching it scrunch even more.

The boy drew his free hand back, and was about to send it directly into your face.  You could see the build up, and your eyes squeezed shut tightly. After a few moments without impact, you opened your eyes back up to see the boy being held back by another student.  “You shouldn’t hit a lady,” the slender boy said with the relatively pointed hair, all coming up at the top. As you finally were fully registering what was going on, you saw that the boy was holding the bully’s fist, twisting it slightly.  “And if you don’t let go of her, we are going to have problems, buddy.”  

The school bully that was about to attack you cowardly ran away, letting go of your shoulder, and letting your body slump to the floor.  You could hear a few people talking to the boy that had just saved you, but you were too busy trying to control your breathing, and attempting to ignore the pain that seared through your shoulder.  After a few moments, you noticed a hand outstretched to you, paired with a gentle smile on the boy’s face whom had just saved you. With your good arm you had taken it, letting him bring you to your feet.  

“Uh, thank you, so very much,” you said bowing slightly, a formal gesture that you had not broken over so many years.  You smiled softly at the boy, holding your books tightly to you, despite the pain that you felt still radiating through your shoulder.  There was no doubt that the bully had at least left a bruise upon your shoulder from the pressure he was using, and though he was a coward to the boy that had saved you, he likely would have slammed a fist directly into your face.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” the boy said with a genuine smile.  

You had nodded at his words, meekly saying, “I just moved here.”  In actuality, of course you had just moved there, but you knew that every school was basically the same.  Each school that you had run into, you had your share of those issues. Sometimes there were kind strangers willing to help, occasionally you had friends that had your back, and then sometimes you would have to deal with a swift fist hitting you somewhere.  Bullies were a common occurrence for high schools, and that was one of the few things that made you regret not aging.

“I’m Tristan, and these are my friends.”  He gestured back to the group you assumed you were hearing while you were still on the floor.  

“I’m Tea,” a girl with short brunette hair said with a kind smile.

A boy with a Brooklyn accent and blonde hair said next, “I’m Joey.”

And the last boy could have given you a heart attack standing right there.  He said, “I’m Yugi,” but as you noticed the spiked multi color hair on his head, the first thing you thought of was him.  Your heart skipped a beat, though the boy was definitely smaller than the one that you longed so desperately for. The differences were subtle, and yet you could see each one.  His stature, for one, and for two, the shaping of his eyes was much more child-like than him, though they held the same lilac color. Yugi had a shy, yet kind smile upon his face, and continued with, “Would you like to come with us to lunch?”

For a moment, you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.  As you weighed your options, you studied the group, though your eyes were mainly set upon the boy who called himself Yugi.  He was so much like him, and yet not. If he was a reincarnation of him, would that be even possible? As your y/e/c orbs raked over the peculiar group, you noticed something odd hanging from the short boy’s neck.  Just as your item held your wrist was Egyptian, you could clearly see that what he had was an artifact, a very familiar one for that matter. Thinking, you glanced to your wrist, and back to it, and it dawned upon you, making you nod quickly.  “I-I would love to, thank you,” you said rushed, realizing that you had been standing there in awe and silence. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

As you walked with the group, you couldn’t help but keep looking over at the Millennium Puzzle adorning the young boy’s neck.  Maybe, you wondered to yourself, but attempted to shake the thought of as you stood in line with the group and got lunch with them all.  Even if it was, would he remember me?  

When the group had gotten their lunches, you sat beside Tea and Yugi while Tristan and Joey sat across from you three.  Through your peripheral vision, you would occasionally catch small glances of Yugi, particularly of the millennium item adorning his neck.  Excitement was rising in your chest, even paired with a small bit of hope that you could be right. If the prophecy was truly real, then you would be right.  What ifs ran through your mind as you thought more and more about it, though you attempted to keep regular conversation going on with the group when necessary.  They seemed like kind people, and even if somehow you were wrong, you picked the right group to hang out with for this attended school.