#longest slow burn of all time

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

#Finally His Girlfriend

[chososcutie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ─── BOUND BY VOWS, TORN BY DESIRE ─── ۫ ׅ ✧ ⊰

pairing ── satoru gojo x reader

teaser ── your kingdoms have been at war for what seems the longest time, ancient ancestors dating back bloodlines never ceasing in their feud. but now, with the upcoming of a new age, and a desperate need for heirs with an old, dying king on the throne, you are forced to resolve and seal the peace by marrying prince satoru, of an opposing nation.

content ── fluff, slow burn, heavy angst, eventual smut, royal!au, forced proximity, arranged marriage, one bed troupe, mommy issues, jealousy, historic!au, language, mention of drinking, kissing

count ── 5k

author’s note ── thank you to everyone who voted for this series!! this is going to be a multi part story, and i hope to continue if it does well, also i think i’m going to make more series’ down the line because this was fun :)

in two days you were to marry prince satoru.

it was at the crux of the two kingdoms' warring, and father was weak and desperate in those times.

your mother had grown unusually cruel, even more so than usual, her voice sharp and reprimanding, put under pressure by the ongoing conflict that never seemed to be getting better.

you were heartbroken when they told you, but not surprised. you had hoped you would get to choose your own partner to spend the rest of your life with, but it seems cruel fate had other plans.

you had tried to reason with your mother to get out of it, that there were other ways to resolve a war other than sending off your daughter to be married to an unknown man from another kingdom, but she was having none of it.

it was really a matter of convenience. a way to set up a peace treaty, arrange a marriage, and combine two impossibly rich kingdoms? you had known your parents long enough to know they never loved in the way they were supposed to, always king and queen before mother and father, and that they’d take this opportunity in a heartbeat, no matter the cost.

you hadn’t however, known how soon everything would progress, until days later when you received an invitation in the mail, unsigned, and enclosed in a thick brown envelope, complete with the royal seal stamped pristinely on the front.

we hereby invite you to the royal marriage of… it read in rich gold lettering, looping cursive filling the page. little illustrations litter the margins, and a single grainy folded-up picture flutters out upon its opening.

when you unfurl it, it reveals the man you were to marry.

prince satoru gojo, in all his glory, wearing a pristine white and gold suit, a coy smile curving his lips, and soft, cloudy white hair fluffed up, a sword at his hip and azure blue eyes boring into yours.

for a second all you can do is stare, taken aback by his beauty.

you had heard of how gorgeous the prince was, being the talk of almost every woman in the kingdom for his good looks and charm, but you had never seen him up until now.

he was drop-dead ravishing. the kind of beauty one saw only in dreams.

“i see you’ve received the invitation.”

your mother’s calculated voice.

you quickly wheel around, her eyes fixed on you coolly. “we’ve gotten word to head to the gojo clan estate now. they will receive you there.”

“but..” you start, hoping against hope that maybe you could get through to her, and beg her not to send you off.

“please don’t disappoint us.” she eyes you disdainfully. “this arrangement means a lot for our kingdom, and it’d do you well to start thinking about what’s best for your disciples rather than your own wants.”

you stare at her. was she calling you selfish for not wanting to wed a man you had never met?

suddenly, the heavy hoofbeats of a horse-drawn carriage breaks the silent tension stretching between you two, a graceful steady gait of horses coming toward you causing you to quickly turn back to your mom, eyes pleading.

“please.. don’t make me.”

in your wildest dreams, her eyes soften and she looks at you with something different then, something resembling love, before scooping you up into her arms and kissing you on the forehead like a mother would, calling you her precious only daughter, and promising to never send you off, and what was she thinking, before calling off the wedding completely.

but instead, she stares at you, detached as if you were nothing more than a pawn in her intricate chessboard of royalty, your worth determined only by what you could provide for the kingdom.

the carriage comes to a halt in front of you, horses snorting and whinnying as you stare back at the face that looks so much like your own, only lacking the empathy you had always longed for.

“get in the carriage.” she says simply.

and realizing she’s not going to change her mind, you study her face for the last time, as if committing it to memory, that same stony unchanging expression that had been with you all through your childhood, before opening the door, and looking ahead, eyes hollow.

maybe this new husband wouldn’t be that bad, after all.

after a few hours of the carriage lurching and bumping along cobblestone trodden pathways, your head craning to look out from the slightly drawn curtains, you make it.

and just as you imagined, prince satoru's estate is big.

in fact, big didn’t even begin to describe it, with towering iron-wrought gates, and a winding driveway all leading up to a fairy-tale like palace.

statues of noble figures stand tall, outlined against its magnificence, and the castle itself is a rich ivory color, accented with shimmers of golden turrets reaching up into the sky, their tips brushing the clouds themselves.

quickly, you are ushered out, the carriage door held open for you by the coachman, and before you get a chance to take in the elegant grounds of the estate, royal servants are already waiting to greet you, all polite smiles as they advise you to follow them inside.

on the way, they tell you that you were to be properly welcomed to the gojo clan before tomorrow's highly anticipated ceremony, in the form of meeting the king and queen in charge, along with your husband to-be.

you take the chance to glance around, taking in all your surroundings, everything ancient and wooden, with small adornings of mythological figures decorating the walls along with paintings dating back to centuries-old wars, history written all across the panelling prominently.

finally, the royal attendants come to a stop in front of a long-winding corridor, leading all the way down toward an ornate wooden door, its magnificent size amongst the others causing it to stand out notably.

"this is master gojo's suite, and where you will be staying with him for the rest of your time here." says the servant nearest to you, beginning to back up slowly, the others in tow. "the king has asked that you meet with him beforehand, so you two can become acquainted. we shall leave you to it."

and with a final bow of his head, he's gone, leaving you to stand in front of the intimidating mahogany door, its broad outline almost menacing in the dimness of the passageway.

as you make your way to it, you push on it hesitantly, only to be met with resistance as it groans in protest, unwilling to budge.

you try the door handle. locked.

you look up again. you know this is the right door. so why isn't it..?

it opens so suddenly, you with all your weight resting on its frame can't stop yourself. you immediately topple over, letting out a soft oof! of surprise as you crash into something warm yet solid, your body pressing hard against it.

budging.

regaining yourself, you can't help but feel the flexing muscle under your palms, looking down to see a man's chest, his quick exhale of breath making you retract immediately.

and looking up, you're met with the sight of none other than soft white hair and blue eyes coming to blink hazily at you.

a vaguely familiar smirk curving his lips as he sets sights on you.

the man in the picture.

your husband to-be.

satoru.

"hello wifey.." he drawls out, tone almost mocking as he stares down at you, dressed in traditional heavy white robes. "i take it you're excited for the marriage?"

pointedly, his eyes fix on where your other hand is dangerously close to gripping his... lower half, so to speak.

flustered, you instantly step back, face blushing immensely. "m-my apologies my lord, i didn't mean to be so forward. i was sent here to meet you before the meeting, and.."

you notice his teasing grin seems to drop for a moment, eyes searching the halls for signs of life. once he knows you two are the only ones, his expression hardens, blue eyes becoming unreadable.

you were alone together.

"lets get one thing straight, princess. you're here to fulfill your role, nothing more, nothing less. i don't care for pleasantries. there's no reason for us to pretend we're anything other than strangers bound by a marriage of convenience."

you try to back away, eyes wide as you make a small involuntary noise in the back of your throat, but he doesn’t let you, coming closer.

"we'll carry out the duties expected of us, and that's all." he continues. "do what is necessary, but don't make the mistake of thinking i'm interested in anything beyond that."

you bristle slightly at his words. "oh, you think i want this? you think i want to be married to you? in a foreign enemy kingdom i don’t even know? because i don't! but there's no way of getting out of it, so why can't you at least afford to be nice?"

he scoffs. "nice? you and your kingdom have ruined my life! you've robbed me of any chance i had at making my own life choices, and i'm supposed to be "nice?"

"why are you acting like i made this marriage? it's not my fault! that's the whole point of an arranged marriage, it's arranged for you!" you don't even realize you're raising your voice until your words begin to echo off the vast walls, bouncing around you tersely. "and if i had, i certainly wouldn't have picked an asshole such as yourself.”

he steps closer, tilting his head at you. “careful what you say about your husband, sweetheart. or you just might get yourself in trouble.”

you know you should stop before you escalate things, but you can’t help it, jutting your lip out at him in a mocking pout. “yeah? make me then.”

in a heartbeat, he has you pinned against the wall behind you, one thigh holding up your weight as the warmth of his bulky frame surrounds you, cerulean blue eyes raking across your face steadily.

you let out a small gasp of surprise, but quickly recover, eyes narrowing on him fiercely.

he leans ever so slightly closer, crowding your space completely as his loud, sultry patchouli cologne surrounds you, alluring and familiar all at once.

his breath ghosting over your lips, is warm and cinnamon-y, as he stares down at you, eyes lidded and just daring you to defy him again.

"excuse me, mister and mistress gojo? your presence is requested now."

immediately, satoru jumps back as if stung, eyes lingering on you a moment longer, before stalking away in temporary surrender.

you push off the wall, feeling the servant's eyes on you questioningly, but not bothering to indulge him, simply brushing yourself off before rapidly following suit.

“your majesties, it is truly an honor to meet you both.” you take a small curtsy to the king and queen you were standing before, lifting your dress to show respect.

satoru rolls his eyes subtly, shifting beside you.

his father shoots him a look, all graying hair and wise crinkling eyes. “the pleasure is all mine, my dear. it’s nice to meet someone with proper mannerisms and respect for the crown.”

you smile. “yes, well i was raised in a kingdom, after all.”

beside him, satoru’s mother, the queen, grants you a kind smile, long white hair flowing around her mirroring her son's. “that you were.” she agrees. “which is why we are so honored to have you here at our own, and to finally resolve the peace that has been fleeting for so long. you have no idea how much this marriage means to both us and the kingdom.”

satoru sighs.

instantly, the queen’s eyes bore into him. “i’m sure you’ve been acquainted with your husband, prince satoru. he is just as pleased as the rest of us for this opportunity you and your kingdom have bestowed upon us, it was rather benevolent of them, and we are eternally in their debt.”

you get the feeling that they've been having disagreements with the arranged marriage, judging by their body language, and instantly the air grows thicker, more tense.

before the situation can progress however, the queen clears her throat, smiling politely at you. "why, it's been a long day, and i'm sure you're tired, sweetheart."

her attention turns toward her son, her voice holding a warning to it that you can't ignore. "satoru. walk with her to your rooms please, and accommodate her."

he nods, and doesn't even wait to see if you're following before retreating hastily, leaving you to chase after him.

finally, you find yourself back in front of the long-winding hallway leading to his─your─ bedroom, and he pauses, as if remembering something.

"we're going to have to share a bed."

your heart skips a beat, breath catching in your throat as he opens the door to reveal a mahogany bed, draped with quilted covers and over-extravagant silk pillows slightly rumpled by sleep. you had forgotten that as a married couple, it would be custom for you two to sleep together, just the thought of being in such a close, intimate space with him causing your pulse to race, whether with anger or.. something else, you can’t tell.

"no we're not." you move toward the bed, grabbing spare pillows and blankets to make your own on the plush carpet, vowing to stay as far as possible from that stuck-up prince.

you hear him sigh from where he's leaning against the doorway watching you.

footsteps pad across the floor toward you, before coming to a stop. "listen. i know this isn't ideal, but it is part of our arrangement to sleep in the same bed, as a married couple."

you gaze up at him coolly. "i'm sleeping here."

he runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "this is part of what is expected of us, and we need to fulfill our duties as a royal couple. just.. get on the bed, and face the other direction, if you must."

you ignore him, tucking yourself into the blankets you had set up with a small yawn, turning to face away from him pointedly.

all is silent for a single, peaceful moment, but then, two unfairly muscular arms are wrapping around your frame, and lifting, scooping you up into him as with a squeal, you kick, trying to get away.

one of your feet makes contact with his side, and he lets out a low grunt before throwing you roughly onto his stupidly huge bed.

"keep fighting all you want, sweetheart. i can do this all night."

for some reason, his words come off more provocative than anything, and you can't help the fact that the stern sultry purr of his coupled with it tinges your cheeks pink ever so subtly.

"i'll tell you one thing about this arranged marriage. as my wife, you are going to listen, and you are going to obey what i tell you, okay? i will not put up with attitude and immaturity.”

your cheeks warm at being scolded like a child, and all you can do is scoff in disbelief before turning over, resigned to your spot on the bed, vowing to stay as far away from him as possible.

you scoot all the way to the edge, squeezing your eyes shut angrily as tears of frustration prick at you.

just who was he to boss you around?

a few terse minutes tick by, with both of you silent, facing away from each other, the only sound being satoru's soft puffs of breath, sleep eluding you further.

you’re trying your best not to let your skin make contact with his in the slightest, but it’s proving difficult with the way his weight makes the bed dip in the middle, trying to draw you toward himself.

this was going to be a looong night.

you figure you eventually fall asleep at some point, because when you open your eyes again, sunlight is peeking through the windows, and something hard and hot is pressed stiffly against your back, insistent with its prodding.

you reach down, half-asleep, to move it away, but your hand connects with something pulsing and.. large. you trail your hand further up, eyes scrunching in confusion only to feel a small shudder under your palm, someone breathing fast and loud right next to you.

satoru.

you instantly scramble away, eyes wide, in your haste falling off and hitting the floor with a low thud.

this wakes him up, half-lidded eyes opening to take in your tangled form on the ground. “what are you doing?”

“y-you..!” you sputter out, frozen as you stare at him in disbelief.

he follows your gaze to his pants, a straining bulge printed on the front clearly.

his cheeks warm, and he looks down, mumbling under his breath. "mornin' wood.."

before you can bring yourself to speak however, two sharp knocks against the door break the awkward silence, followed by the voice of a servant outside.

"madame and master, it’s time to prepare you both for the wedding ceremony."

“ow!”

you scrunch your eyes tightly, pain washing over you in waves.

the stylist pauses, taking in your expression sympathetically before resuming to tug at your poor hair, putting it up into an intricate updo, a plaited bun with face-framing hairs and bangs, hot curlers and bobbypins attacking you left and right.

"just sit still, dear." one pushes your head back, while another tilts your face to the side to furiously blend foundation on your cheeks.

this day would only come once, in your lifetime at least, and being a royal wedding, of course, everything had to be perfect.

you and satoru were being relied on as human peace treaties to prove to the world that for the first time, your kingdoms were united, marking the official end of the war.

which is why, not only were appearances important, but also your actions towards satoru had to be convincing enough for the clan to wholeheartedly believe you two were in love, and effectively stop the fighting at hand.

so today was more important than ever that you look fully and maddeningly in love with satoru gojo.

you sigh to yourself, but suddenly your thoughts are cut off by the proud voice of your main stylist taking a step back to admire her handiwork.

"perfect. absolutely perfect." the rest nod in agreement, and with a few last touches, you're ready.

and as you all head to where the ceremony would be held, to describe how you're feeling right now as overwhelmed would be an understatement.

currently, there's about two thousand people waiting for you, all elegantly dressed, their heads held high with self-importance.

even the palace is decorated for the occasion, banners and emblems of the gojo clan stamp hanging proudly over the room, while decorative flowers in vases cover every available surface.

you shift your feet nervously, waiting for your signal to walk the aisle, praying that you wouldn't trip or embarrass yourself, fidgeting with your dress anxiously.

the wedding dress in question, was a classic take on a vintage ball gown look, with a too tight-fitting cream-colored corset billowing out dramatically from the waist into a poofy, tulle skirt, and currently it was killing you as you tried to take deep breaths, its taut stiffness practically constricting your lungs.

to make matters worse, it pushed your breasts obnoxiously up, and showed off your outline far too much to be comfortable, contouring every curve distinctively.

before you can try and pull it down however for what seems the hundredth time, the renowned quality of a simple elegant instrumental begins playing, signifying your entrance, and time seems to stop.

your heels click softly on the marbled stone, each step seeming to magnify in the large room spread out before you.

highly prestigious people, who had dismissed you before as nothing but a simple child princess living in her daddy’s kingdom were now all craning their heads to get a better look at you, hushed gasps and chatter sweeping through the crowd as you pass.

slowly, you begin to make your way down the dramatically decorated aisle, and as you get closer to the altar, you spot satoru, leaning slightly, cerulean eyes focused solely on you.

he’s dressed elegantly, in a frilly suit that matches the color of his eyes, all extravagant buttons and poofy sleeves, with crisscrossing gold lace, and a white overspilling cravat on the front.

he tilts his head as if to study the dress you're in, intense blue gaze raking up and down to ravish your clearly outlined figure.

your cheeks flush, his effect on you instantaneous as unbearable though he is.

slowly, you come to stand at your spot beside him, nervous as you look around at the crowd.

what happens next, you hadn't been expecting at all.

as one, they get up, and shower you both in applause, claps as precise and unified as their owners, the sound heard all the way around the entire palace, as they all give a standing ovation to their new king and queen of a new era.

the blush creeps up your neck, and you look around at your new subjects, all of them cheering for you.

after a minute or so of this, they begin to gradually quiet, sitting back down while both you and satoru turn to face each other.

the royal priest clears his throat for attention, and begins his long winding speech, garbled words slurring together as you stare at satoru.

he was so beautiful, breathtakingly so. his white hair is fluffed up, showing his high cheekbones, and he even has a bit of makeup on him, contour and powder.

in fact you’re staring at him so intensely, so swept up in him, you don’t even realize the priest is talking to you until he’s raising an eyebrow at you expectantly, the crowd hushed.

“huh?” you hear yourself say, embarrassment pinking your cheeks.

he clears his throat, speaking a little louder. “do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better..”

when you glance back at satoru, he’s looking at the priest, but there’s a curve to his mouth, amusement glinting in his eyes.

insufferable.

you take a second to let your eyes roam the audience, and happen to land on a particular face, one you hadn’t seen before.

she's wearing a knee-length navy blue dress, one that highlights her chubby figure and pudgy stomach, and a hat which covers most of her face. her head, though covered, is bowed low, as if in shame, which stands out to you as most of the audience is gazing up, at you and satoru, heads perked for a better look.

before you have time to further analyze however, you’re snapped back to the priest who is finishing up his speech.

“..till death do thy part. do you pledge your faithfulness and devotion, and promise to be thy loving wife, forevermore?”

your head starts to spin, the weight of his words sinking into you fully. you were to be with this man, whom you hadn’t even met before yesterday, for the rest of your life. all your hopes and dreams outside of the kingdom may as well come crashing down on your head once you were to speak those forsaken words.

after today, you would be queen, alongside your husband, the king.

at the very thought of being so responsible, the words stick in your throat, face paling. you have the urge to say no, to call the whole thing off, to truly disappoint your parents and disgrace satoru’s family for eternity, because this was your life. your life, and nobody got to take that from you.

you force a smile. “i do.”

the ring-bearer comes up to you, a ring on a fluffed pillow for you to take, its band gold and cool in your palm as you pick it up, a baby blue gem encrusted with the gojo symbol across it staring back.

you had never chose, nor seen this ring in your life.

he turns to satoru. “and do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to..”

you turn to satoru, expecting to see that same playful smirk, but something else has replaced it, more open and raw.

maybe he was feeling the implications too?

“..promise to be thy loving husband, forevermore?”

he swallows, pauses for a second too long, before speaking, the words cool and strangely detached. “i do.”

his ring comes, silver and chiseled with symbols of royalty, all sleek metal and polished, shining pristinely in the light. it has diamonds encrusted all over it, each worth more than a house, along with his precious initials, s.g, carved into it.

he takes it without looking at it.

“then by the power vested in me, i now pronounce you man and wife.” he turns toward satoru. "you may now kiss the bride."

your mouth goes dry, and for a second, all you can do is gape at satoru while the priest's words register in your head.

shit. how could you have forgotten you would be expected to kiss him? it was a wedding after all.

satoru's mouth curves up as he leans in slightly toward your ear, his hair brushing you. “c’mon princess, kiss your husband for the audience, yeah?”

you blush, and oblivious to all the people and the priest standing less than a foot away, he goes on, “although, don't be too good of a kisser, or i might get used to..."

before he can continue, you grab his face in your hands, pressing your lips hard against his, if just to make him shut up, and he pauses, taken aback, before slowly his hand creeps up to cup your cheeks gingerly, hesitantly leaning in to it.

the crowd all cheers around you, but you can’t even hear them anymore, all of it fading around you.

he's your first kiss.

he tastes like cinnamon and clove, like something spicy and reckless, his tongue already coming to meet yours in a brash tangle.

as quickly as he had been on you however, he draws away, wiping his mouth with that same lopsided smirk tilting his lips upward, leaving you practically dizzy.

and as the rest of the ceremony drones on, you can't help yourself from wanting more.

it wasn't enough to leave you satisfied, and now that you've gotten a taste, you fear you might not ever get enough.

after the wedding ceremony, there was to be a reception where only the most prestigious and important of people would attend.

it was held in the palace ballroom, lavishly decorated for the occasion with crystal chandeliers, and silk draped tables filled with shiny silverware, everything overly classy and elegant.

when you enter beside satoru, they're already serving flutes of champagne, people milling about amiably and making pleasant conversation.

and if you thought you were popular before as a princess, you had no idea the kind of attention being a hot topic like you were now would bring.

before you're even two steps inside, there's already people surrounding you to congratulate you on your marriage, kiss you on the cheek in greeting, and welcome you as newfound queen to the throne.

after a few minutes of this, with no sign of the crowd of people easing up, you begin to get nervous.

there's just no way you can see to get out of it, and as you start to feel claustrophobic, your body being pushed and jostled by all these people wanting to meet, you feel a warm hand on the small of your back, guiding you away from the crowd.

satoru.

“i think it’s time for a dance.” he says before grabbing your warm, gloved hands in his, and twirling you out to the center of the dance floor, where a few couples were already swaying to a slow tune.

satoru takes his hands, placing them on either side of your waist, just above your hips, a lazy smirk curling his mouth up as his touch seems casual, natural almost.

it seems almost genuine, the way he flirts with you in the public eye only to blatantly disregard you in private.

well, two could play at that game.

you wrap your arms around his neck, and draw yourself closer, lips hovering above his, your front rubbing against him dangerously.

he inhales sharply, eyes flickering with heat for a second but before you get the chance to revel in the fact you could draw a reaction from him, he starts spinning you.

you gasp as he whirls you around, before starting to glide back and forth with you across the dance floor, a smug grin on his face as you try and keep up.

luckily for you, as royalty you were expected to know how to dance, and your parents had enrolled you in private lessons weekly, your feet falling into familiar steps as you swept along the floor with him.

he takes notice, hands gripping your waist tighter as he sways with you, quickening the pace. “who taught you to dance, princess?”

you can't tell if he's teasing, or being genuine so rather than answer, you glance down, pretending to focus on your steps as you try to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

and finally with one last dramatic twirl, your hands tracing delicate arcs in the air, the music crescendoes and satoru catches you in a perfect dip, your head tilting back with a flourish.

instantly, cheering erupts, the room absolutely filled with clapping and whistling as your chest heaves up and down, still in his arms.

you had been so caught up you hadn't even realized everyone had stopped to watch you two, and with your finish, you were now the center of attention.

and as you seat yourself in a chair across from satoru, the formal banquet about to begin, you finally answer his question, seemingly out of nowhere, making him come to a start as he looks at you.

"my mother put me in dance classes from a young age." you smile bitterly as the memory washes over you. "you know it's funny, she was always the most beautiful dancer in the ballroom at my kingdom, but she wouldn't teach me. said i was "too slow", "had two left feet", "didn't pick up quickly", and i was nothing like her. she had someone else instruct me, and every day i would go and practice as much as i could, in hopes of getting better and pleasing her."

"did you?" satoru presses.

you sigh sadly. "i did, but it was never enough for her. nothing was. i remember thinking when i was younger, that maybe there was something wrong with me, and that's why she couldn't love me. why anyone couldn't love me, really. i've always felt like just a mere decoration in my palace, just another step on my mother's agenda."

what he says next surprises you. "i get what you mean. ever since i was little, my parents have been telling me, "you're going to be king" "one day you're going to overtake the throne" and "think of your future kingdom", when all I ever wanted was to be a child."

he draws nearer to you. "but, that gets taken from you once you're born into a monarchy, right?"

you nod. "that, and everything else down to your way of life, your interests, your dreams.." you break off, eyes flickering down to his lips for a moment. "..your husband."

the conversation between you becomes more intimate as he leans in too, lips above yours, and just as you start to close the distance..

the distinct sound of a fork clinking against a glass.

the royal toasts were starting.

it was from satoru's father, the king, his wise, crinkled smile looking around at all his subjects. "hello everyone. we thank you for coming out tonight to celebrate the birth of a new age, as my son and the daughter of a rival kingdom have come together in marriage, forever binding our palaces as one. this marks the start to a new era."

he pauses, letting the people around break out into clapping, some cheering, before going on.

"as you are aware, i will be stepping back from my role as king, knowing our future is in capable hands, by your new king and queen.."

at that, he lifts a glass toward your table, winking solemnly.

"to satoru, my successor, my pride, and the future of this kingdom. may your reign be long, your rule wise, and may you bring many heirs to this kingdom."

wait.

heirs?

you turn to look at satoru, his face paling.

"to the future, to the kingdom, and to the continuation of our legacy!"

"long live the king!"

[nahare-shin]

It’s my Neo 3 but the biggest plot twist is he’s the oldest bc he’s in his 40s.

[nylqnder]

ALL'S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR QUINN HUGHES

pairings: quinn hughes x fem!reader, (little bit of) jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: trevor invites you to a lakehouse for the summer, attempting to set him up with his friend. however, the summer doesn't go to plan when you meet his older brother who captures your eye and flips everything upside down.

warnings: very obviously angst, sort of a love triangle, jack and quinn kind of hating each other, slow burn, reader and trevor having a sibling type relationship, one singular kiss, brief appearances from trevor & luke

word count: 11.6k

notes: wooooo mama this is the absolute longest thing i've ever written. i really hope you guys enjoy it, i'm pretty happy with this.

The scene of the lake house standing tall in front of you was something straight out of your imagination. It was picturesque, the way the large house was nestled amongst the pine trees and the glimmering water sparkling behind it. It was just the way that Trevor had described it when he invited (or rather insisted) you to come to his buddy’s lake house this summer.

“You’ll love it! It’s so nice up there,” Trevor had urged, his enthusiasm infectious. You could still hear his voice, brimming with excitement. “It’s my friend Jack’s place. You guys would get along great! And his brothers are super chill too.”

At the time, you’d felt a mix of curiosity and skepticism. It’d been about three years you’d been friends with Trevor, long enough to know that when his tone got this excited and he was this insistent, he was up to something.

“Are you trying to set me up with him?” you’d asked, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Trevor as the two of you sat in a coffee shop a few months ago. He had been uncharacteristically fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down while stirring his iced coffee with an unnecessary amount of focus.

Trevor had grinned at you in that annoyingly charming way he did when he was caught. “Nooo, I’m just saying you guys would vibe. He’s a cool guy. Super chill.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms across your chest. “Uh-huh. And his brothers?”

“Also cool!” Trevor leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But listen, Jack’s the one I think you’d really like. Just come for like, a week or two, see what happens. No pressure. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You’d hesitated, not entirely convinced. But Trevor knew exactly how to play on your curiosity, and a month later, you found yourself packing a bag for a summer getaway at some lake house owned by Trevor’s friend, Jack. Despite your reservations, a part of you was intrigued. What if Trevor was right?

The drive to the lake house had been a blur, punctuated by Trevor’s nonstop chatter and your own uncertain silence. You weren’t opposed to meeting Jack. Trevor had sung his praises for months, claiming you two had more in common than either of you realized. As far as setups went, this wasn’t terrible — you could trust Trevor to have good judgment. But still, you were unsure and slightly uneasy about the whole situation.

When you arrive, Jack is already waiting outside, leaning against the porch rail, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. He’s smiling — an easy, laid-back smile that makes you smile back automatically. The sun filters through the trees, casting warm, gold light on the porch, and for a moment, everything feels serene.

Trevor wasn’t lying when he commented about Jack’s appearance. “Some people call him a pretty boy but… I mean he is pretty, but he’s a good-looking dude, y’know?” He was definitely attractive, something anyone could admit you thought, but he wasn’t totally your type.

Trevor bounds up the steps of the porch, dapping up Jack and pulling him in for a hug. You followed, stopping at the bottom of the steps, watching as Trevor whispered something into Jack's ear, Jack’s eyes catching yours as a small smile appeared on his lips.

Jack steps forward, extending a hand. “Hey, you must be y/n. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, his voice warm with that relaxed confidence you’d expect from someone who’s used to being the center of attention.

You shake his hand, feeling the easy smile on your face widen a little. “All good things, I hope.”

Trevor laughs, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Mostly good things.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Jack offers to give you a quick tour of the place, and you agree, letting him guide you inside while Trevor stays back, grumbling to himself about having to bring in your bags. The inside of the house is as beautiful as the outside, with high ceilings, wooden beams, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the lake. Despite being a new build, it has a cozy, rustic feel to it. Jack pointed out each room as you went, keeping up a steady flow of conversation that put you at ease. He was friendly and thoughtful, making sure you felt welcomed, and it struck you as genuine. You could see why Trevor thought you’d get along with him.

“And this is the back deck,” Jack said as he pushed open a sliding door, revealing a sprawling view of the lake, with a dock stretching out in front of the property. The lake is glittering and relatively calm, aside from a figure disturbing the water. You squint, watching as the swimmer glides smoothly through the lake.

“Who’s that?” you ask Jack, eyes not leaving the figure as you watch him pull himself up onto the wooden dock, pushing dark wet hair from his face.

“That’s Quinn,” Jack says, following your gaze and glancing out toward the dock. “My older brother.”

The sun seems to linger on Quinn’s form, highlighting the toned muscles in his arms as he stretches briefly, rolling his shoulders to ease out any lingering tension from his swim. Droplets of water cling to his skin, catching the sunlight and tracing down his chest in slow, winding trails emphasizing the smooth contours of his muscles as they glisten.

“Q!” Jack shouts, whistling to get his brother’s attention. Quinn’s gaze snaps to the two of you, your pulse quickening as his eyes land on you. “Come up here!”

Quinn grabs his towel from the dock, throwing it over his shoulder as he makes his way up the lawn towards you. As he climbs the steps to the deck, you feel his eyes travel over you, not in a way that feels intimidating, but with a curiosity that mirrors your own. There’s something magnetic about him, something calm and steady that draws you in as he steps up onto the deck, his mouth curving into a small, barely-there smile.

“This is Trevor’s friend, y/n. She’s joining us for the summer” Jack introduces.

As Quinn’s gaze flickers back to you, you notice there’s something about the way he looks at you — subtle, assessing. His gaze has a certain depth, a look you can’t quite decipher. It lingers just a second longer than what feels typical, enough to make your heartbeat skip, to leave you questioning the flicker of interest in his expression.

“Nice to meet you,” Quinn says, his voice low and smooth, a perfect complement to the quiet confidence he exudes. He reaches out to shake your hand, and as your fingers meet, you notice how warm his touch feels, even with the cool water droplets still lingering on his skin.

Up close, he’s even more striking. There’s a sort of ruggedness to him, outlined by the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, a greenish shade of blue, hold yours with a calm intensity that makes it hard to look away.

“Nice to meet you too,” you manage, your voice coming out softer than you intended, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You mentally kick yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice, but the glimmer in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Jack, oblivious to the undercurrent, clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Alright, well, there’s more to see, and if we don’t get back, Trevor’s going to start whining about being abandoned,” he joked.

You chuckle, your eyes pulling away from Quinns’ for the first time since he joined you on the porch. But as you turned to follow Jack back inside, you couldn’t help but glance back at Quinn. He was still watching you, his expression softened just slightly, and you felt a quiet thrill at the way he watched you.

The first week at the lakehouse passes in a flurry of days that blur together in laughter and lakeside relaxation. You fall into an easy routine of swimming, grilling, and long talks on the deck. Jack and Trevor keep things lively, always organizing something, whether it’s an impromptu game of cornhole, a daring cliff dive, or a spontaneous trip into town.

With Jack, the connection forms fast. He’s lighthearted, quick with a joke, and endlessly charming. He keeps you laughing and keeps the vibe lighthearted. His energy is infectious, and he keeps you roped into every activity, whether it’s cliff-jumping or getting you to help him with dinner when it’s his turn. You can tell that Trevor’s plan to get the two of you set up is working for Jack, as he lingers closer, laughs harder at your jokes, and you begin to feel his gaze linger on you just a little too long.

But it’s Quinn who holds your attention in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

Quinn is different from Jack in nearly every way. Where Jack is open and quick to draw you into his orbit, Quinn lingers on the edges, observing and listening. When he speaks, it’s with a low, steady voice that commands attention without trying. And unlike Jack’s energy, which feels like the buzz of the sun overhead, Quinn’s is deep and mysterious like the lake.

You find yourself gravitating toward him at every opportunity, captivated by the way he moves through the days with an unruffled calm. The nights at the lake house slip into an easy rhythm, with Quinn and you inevitably being the last ones awake as the both of you are night owls. Most nights, you find yourselves lingering on the porch, wrapped in the gentle hum of crickets and the low whisper of the lake. With the others upstairs, fast asleep, you and Quinn fall into intimate conversations, shared only between the two of you.

One night, you find yourselves tucked away on the porch, the air a little cooler than the other nights. You are curled up on a rocking chair, bundled up in a hoodie you’d borrowed from Jack. Quinn sat across from you, the beer he’d started during dinner going warm in his hand.

Quinn studies you, his eyes catching the faint glow of the porch light as he swirls his bottle absentmindedly. “So,” he begins, breaking the comfortable silence, “What’s California like?” He leans forward, genuinely interested, his voice carrying a warmth that makes you want to spill everything about life on the West Coast.

A soft smile creeps onto your face. “It’s… different from here,” you admit, glancing out at the lake where the moon dances on the still water. “It’s a bit fast-paced. And warm. Lots of sun, lots of people. But sometimes, it feels like everyone’s moving so quickly that you get lost in the crowd.”

Quinn nods, his eyes steady on you. “I get it. I feel the same way about Vancouver sometimes. Coming back here… it just reminds me that there's more than the noise and rush. There’s… balance out here.” He gestures out toward the lake, his voice contemplative. “Like all of this has a way of pulling you back to what matters.”

His words resonate deeply, and you find yourself nodding. “Exactly,” you murmur. “It’s like there’s space to breathe. And you notice things that usually get lost in all the… chaos.”

Quinn’s gaze lingers on you a moment longer, a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad you came. It’s been… good to have you here,” he says quietly, his eyes soft. “We don’t have other people up here often.”

Your heart pounds a little faster at the sincerity in his voice, and for a second, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only Quinn and the quiet lake, and the feeling that he understands you in a way you hadn't expected anyone to. You hold his gaze, feeling the electricity between you grow, filling the silence with something you can’t quite name.

But then, as if drawn back to reality, Quinn’s eyes shift, his expression subtly changing. “And Jack,” he says, almost as an afterthought. “He… really likes you, you know? He doesn’t say it, but I can tell.”

It feels like a splash of cold water. You break eye contact, pulling your hoodie closer around you, the warmth you felt moments ago dissipating. The weight of Jack’s interest hangs heavily between you and Quinn now, an undeniable reminder of the complicated line you’re toeing.

“Right, yeah…” you reply softly, looking down, your voice tinged with a mix of guilt and frustration. You hadn’t meant for this to get complicated, yet here you are, caught between two brothers who couldn’t be more different.

An uncomfortable silence settles over you both, thick and heavy. Quinn’s eyes linger on you, as if he’s about to say something more, but he holds back. His lips press into a thin line, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same conflict, the same confusion that’s twisting knots inside you.

You force yourself to look away, swallowing hard. “I think… I should probably head to bed,” you murmur, avoiding his gaze. You stand up, offering him a small, tight-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Goodnight, Quinn.”

Quinn nods, his expression unreadable as he watches you ebb towards the door. “Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s a flicker of something in his gaze — disappointment, perhaps, or longing. You slip inside, leaving him on the porch, the weight of his gaze heavy on your back as you close the door.

In bed, you toss and turn, Quinn’s words and the feel of his gaze lingering with you. Your mind is a whirlwind, caught between the easy, carefree friendship that’s growing with Jack and the simmering tension you feel with Quinn. Jack is perfectly nice and, like Trevor told you, the two of you were getting along swimmingly.

But no matter how much you try, your thoughts always drift back to Quinn. There’s something undeniably different about him, something that makes it impossible to feel the same way about Jack, no matter how hard you try. Jack’s presence is light and friendly but with Quinn… it’s like there’s a hidden gravity pulling you toward him, a quiet understanding that lingers beneath the surface of every conversation. Every night on that porch, he’s become your anchor, drawing you into a world that feels more honest, more intimate.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying the way he looked at you tonight — that almost undetectable spark that you’re sure you didn’t imagine. The way he listens to you, like every word matters, as he sees past the small talk and into the parts of you you rarely share. There’s no pretending with Quinn. And even though he’d mentioned Jack, it only made you realize how much more you’re drawn to Quinn. Jack might be developing feelings for you, but it’s Quinn who fills your thoughts, who leaves you breathless in a way you can’t ignore.

You pull the covers tighter around you, willing sleep to take you, but every thought seems to lead back to Quinn, to the way he made you feel seen, understood — even in silence.

The next morning, you do your best to shake off the lingering tension from the night before, determined to keep things light and normal. Under Jack’s enthusiastic suggestion, the group decides to spend the day out on the lake, hoping the sun and water will wash away any unease. It’s a sunny day, warm with a light breeze, and the water sparkles invitingly under the sunlight, making you think that everything might just go smoothly.

The boat is anchored in a calm spot on the lake and, despite the wonderful weather, there doesn’t seem to be another boat around. Trevor and Luke sit up in the bow, arguing about which mascot would win in a fight between Mr. Clean and Tony the Tiger.

Jack is quick to pull you into the action, handing you a beer from the cooler as he grins. “Alright,” he says, his smile as wide as the lake. “Are you ready for the full lake house experience? Because to really do that, you’ve got to jump off the boat at least once today.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you crack open the can. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making up rules to mess with me.”

He shrugs, a playful glint in his eye. “Maybe, but you have to do it anyway,” he shrugs.

Trevor chimes in, chuckling from his spot. “Jack’s right, y/n. First-time lake visitors have to jump. It’s tradition!”

You chuckle, your gaze drifting up to Jack as he stands in front of you. The sun shines directly behind him, casting him in a golden halo, the bright rays spilling around his frame in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. For a moment, you can see why anyone would fall for that charm. But even with this picture-perfect moment, you feel a pang of regret that you can’t feel more for him, because, somehow, your thoughts are pulled elsewhere and on someone else.

Jack’s laughter brings you back to the moment, and he leans a little closer. “Come on, we can make it a team effort. I mean, if you’re too nervous, I can just hold your hand.” His voice is playful, but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, a hope that you’ll let him bridge the gap he’s trying so hard to close.

Your smile is genuine, but before you can respond, you hear Quinn's low chuckle from behind you. It’s soft, barely audible over the hum of the boat’s motor, but enough to pull your focus completely away from Jack. You glance back at Quinn who’s sat on the back bench, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, a flicker of something in his gaze as it bears down on the two of you.

Your attention is pulled back to Jack as he reaches for your hand in a gesture that feels both playful and pointed. “Come on, y/n, it’ll be an official initiation. We’ll jump together, yeah?”

Your gaze flickers between Jack’s outstretched hand and Quinn, who’s watching with an inscrutable expression, his eyes narrowed slightly as he leans back, crossing his arms. You can’t deny there’s an awkward tension here, a silent push-and-pull between the two brothers that seems to amplify whenever Quinn is nearby.

Swallowing the strange, charged feeling building between you all, you look back at Jack and nod, forcing a lighthearted smile as you stand up, pulling off the oversized t-shirt you wore as a coverup. You see Jack’s eyes scan your figure, hearing him gasp quietly. You blush, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, taking his hand. He grins in triumph, his fingers warm against yours as he helps you stand at the edge of the boat. He holds on a little tighter than necessary, and the flicker of anticipation in his eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Ready?” Jack asks, his voice softer now, his gaze lingering a bit too long as he watches your expression. There’s a hopeful vulnerability in his face, a look that makes you hesitate for a moment. You don’t want to hurt him, but there’s a part of you that wishes he’d pull back, that he’d realize you’re not as invested in this connection as he is.

You manage a nod, hoping he doesn’t notice the small sigh you let slip. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He beams, counting down with a quiet “three… two… one!” before the two of you leap into the lake together, the cool water rushing up to meet you. When you surface, you’re greeted by Jack’s laughter as he splashes you, pulling you into a playful water fight. You laugh along, though your eyes instinctively drift toward the boat, where Quinn looks over the edge, watching you both with an unreadable expression.

Jack’s laughter fades slightly as he notices your attention elsewhere, his face falling for a fraction of a second. But he quickly masks it, pulling you back with a light splash. “Hey, stay with me here,” he says, his tone half-joking, half-pleading. And you want to, you really do, but Quinn’s gaze is magnetic, and you can’t help but feel pulled toward him, as if there’s an invisible thread between the two of you.

Eventually, Jack climbs back onto the boat, reaching out to help you up. But the moment you step back on board, the charged silence returns, thick and stifling, as Quinn hands you a towel, his fingers brushing against yours just long enough to send a spark up your arm. You catch his gaze for a brief second, and you’re struck by the quiet intensity in his eyes, a longing that mirrors your own.

Jack clears his throat, his shoulders tensing slightly as he glances between you and Quinn. He lets out a forced laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Alright, what’s next? We could always do another round of jumps, or maybe a swim to the dock?” He says it with an almost desperate cheerfulness, trying to regain your attention, trying to keep the moment light.

Trevor and Luke, sensing the tension, start bantering about who would be the fastest swimmer, their playful arguments distracting you all for a moment, lightening the mood just enough.

────୨ৎ────

The night air was crisp as laughter and the crackling of the fire filled the space around the lake house. The lake is quiet behind you, a dark, glassy surface reflecting only starlight. You were settled in a lawn chair, leaning back, watching as Trevor dramatically recounted a story about when you nearly crashed his car.

You could feel his eyes on you, searching for a shared smile, hoping to catch your gaze even as he chuckled at Trevor’s theatrics. Every so often, he'd lean in, commenting with a low murmur meant only for you. He’d even offered you his hoodie earlier, though the night wasn’t nearly cold enough to need it. It was endearing, if not a bit overeager. Yet, despite the obvious attention from him, your focus kept drifting across the fire.

Quinn sat across the flames from you, leaning back in an Adirondack chair. His attention was barely on the story, barely laughing with the others as you had been. Every now and then you’d catch his eyes flicker your way, lingering on you just long enough to send a thrill through your chest. Your stomach tightened with a quiet anticipation each time, though as quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished. Quinn’s gaze would shift, his attention lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the flames, leaving you wondering if you’d only imagined it.

As Trevor finally wrapped up his tale with an exaggerated flourish, the group’s laughter rang out again, filling the quiet night. You shifted in your chair, stealing a glance across the fire to see Quinn looking your way again, his expression unreadable in the dancing light. The firelight cast soft shadows over his face, illuminating his quiet intensity—a contrast to Jack’s open interest. And just as quickly as his eyes met yours, he looked away, his focus deliberately elsewhere, leaving you feeling a subtle ache of frustration.

Jack nudged your arm gently, his voice breaking the spell. “Hey, want to grab a drink or something? I think I saw some ciders in the cooler on the porch.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you replied, a small smile curving your lips as you pushed yourself up to join him.

You could feel the weight of Quinn’s gaze on you, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. As you walked toward the porch with Jack, a pang of prickling guilt settled over you, leaving a heavy shadow with every step. Jack was wonderful — funny, kind-hearted, and clearly eager to spend time with you. And yet, there was an emptiness in each smile you returned to him, a hollowness you couldn’t ignore. You tried to shake it off, reminding yourself to appreciate his warmth and interest. But you couldn’t deny it. There was no spark, no unspoken gravity that pulled you toward him.

The two of you reached the porch, Jack handing you a cold can from the cooler, his fingers brushing yours briefly. He shot you a quick grin, the kind that seemed to hold a hundred different things he wanted to say. But the look in his eyes—the hopefulness, the eagerness—only tightened the knot in your chest.

Jack took a sip of his drink, leaning casually against the porch railing, his gaze still on you. “It’s nice here at night, isn’t it?” His tone was light, but there was an unmistakable softness to his voice, as though he wanted nothing more than to keep this moment between just the two of you.

“Yeah, it really is,” you agreed, looking out at the lake rather than meeting his eyes. “It’s peaceful.”

Jack’s voice was quieter when he spoke this time like he was mulling something over. “You know, it’s been great having you up here. I mean…I’m glad Z brought you here.” he said softly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a vulnerability there, one that made you want to reassure him, to ease the sting of your own uncertainty.

You wanted to tell him you felt the same, that you were excited, that his attention filled you with butterflies. But it didn’t. Not the way Quinn’s lingering gaze did, not in the way his silence could reach across the fire and wrap around you more tightly than any words Jack could offer.

And Jack could sense it. You could see it in the way his gaze fell just a bit, in the way he seemed to retreat into himself, trying to figure out where he’d lost you. A soft, sinking guilt bubbled up, but before you could say anything, he cleared his throat and looked at you, trying to keep the mood light.

“Should we head back?” he asked, giving you a small smile that tried to mask the disappointment behind his eyes.

You nodded, and as you followed him back toward the fire, your eyes drifted back to Quinn. Why did he have to make it so complicated? Jack was there, warm and steady, giving you his full attention, yet your heart kept tugging you toward Quinn — Quinn, who never gave you more than half-glances and unspoken hints. It was as though he knew the effect he had on you but chose to keep you guessing, leaving you in this restless, uncertain state. And every time he looked away, your chest would ache with a longing that you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

You felt like you were making it up in your head. You felt like all of this was just concocted by your brain, a made-up situation. But then you’d think back to the nights when it was just the two of you, sitting across from one another on the porch, finding bits of commonality, causing you to talk for hours.

It was during those quiet nights, with only the soft hum of the lake and the occasional call of night birds, that the two of you would sit just a little closer, voices lowered as if sharing secrets with the stars. He’d be calm, reserved, but there’d always be a hint of a smile when you teased him about his stoic nature, a glint in his eyes when he’d challenge you back. It was in these moments that your doubts faded, that all the confusion seemed worth it.

But then the sun would rise again, and Quinn’s indifference would come back like the morning mist, blanketing any closeness you thought you’d found. The spark that seemed so real under the cover of night would dim, replaced by his guarded demeanor and quiet aloofness. It was maddening, this cycle of near-closeness followed by a cool retreat. He’d show you just enough to make you wonder, to keep you holding onto the memory of his quiet smile and that soft look in his eyes.

As you and Jack rejoined the group, you settled back into your chair, glancing across the fire toward Quinn once more. He was looking down, a hand idly fiddling with the edge of his sweater. There was something vulnerable about him in that moment, something that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he felt the same hesitation and uncertainty. You wanted to bridge that gap, to ask him if he ever felt the same tug, the same strange pull that made every shared glance linger in your mind.

But before you could even entertain the idea, Jack’s hand brushed your shoulder, pulling your attention back to him. He was smiling, his gaze as steady and warm as ever, making you wish you could return it with the same openness.

“Hey, you okay?” Jack asked, concern lacing his voice. You hadn’t realized the way you were chewing on your lip, or the way your brow was furrowed ever so slightly.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile that you hoped looked genuine. “Yeah, just…lost in thought, I guess.”

But as you said it, your gaze slipped across the fire once more, finding Quinn’s eyes fixed on you with that familiar, unreadable intensity. And for a fleeting second, you thought you saw a softness there, a hint of something deeper. It vanished just as quickly, but that one look was enough. It was enough to make you cast away the doubt that lingered in your mind, to dismiss the thought that this was all in your head.

The night dragged on, punctuated by laughter and more ridiculous storytelling from Trevor. Gradually, one by one, everyone began to call it a night. Luke was the first to slip away, yawning as he muttered something about wanting to have an early workout, clapping Trevor on the shoulder before heading inside. Trevor followed soon after, stretching with exaggerated laziness before flashing a grin and winking at you. “Don’t get into too much trouble out here,” he teased, earning a playful eye-roll from you.

Finally, it was just you, Jack, and Quinn. Jack was lingering, his eyes occasionally drifting to you with a look that hinted at something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite bring himself to voice. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat as he looked at you, then glanced over at Quinn.

"Alright, I guess I’ll head in, too," Jack finally said, his tone reluctant. His gaze lingered on you for just a beat too long, as though he wanted you to ask him to stay or tell him that you would head up with him. But you didn’t, and after a quiet sigh, he nodded, gave Quinn a brief glance, then turned and headed inside, the screen door shutting softly behind him.

And then it was just the two of you.

The quiet stretched between you and Quinn, thick and tense, as the night air settled into a stillness that seemed to wrap around you both. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the trees, and it was painfully quiet, each unspoken word between you two heavy with meaning. You could feel his presence, magnetic and steady, even across the fire. Finally, after a moment that felt like an eternity, you drew a deep breath and decided to speak.

“Quinn, can we talk?” Your voice was steady, but just barely. Quinn’s eyes finally locked with yours for the first time since before everyone began to filter to bed. Quinn nodded after a couple of seconds, giving you the silence to continue.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us,” you said softly. “But… fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. I need to know if it’s all just in my head or if you feel it too. Because if there’s a reason I feel this way… I need to know.”

You trailed off, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words hung in the air between you. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable, his face softened by the glow of the firelight. Then, with a sigh, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he stared into the flames. His silence was torture, each passing second pulling you deeper into a pit of anxiety and frustration.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, as if he’d rehearsed this response in his mind countless times. “It’s not in your head,” he admitted, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. “There’s something here, between us. I feel it too.”

The words sent a rush of relief and hope through you, a spark that reignited all those moments spent wondering and waiting for some kind of sign. A soft smile spread across your face, the edges of your doubt finally beginning to soften. But then, his expression shifted, the corners of his mouth tightening as he looked away, eyes fixed on the shadows just beyond the firelight.

“But…” His voice was barely a whisper, rough around the edges. “It can’t go anywhere. Not with Jack. He’s…he’s into you.” He looked back at you, the regret in his eyes evident, a pain mirrored in your own chest. “I can’t do that to him.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, and the warmth of the fire suddenly felt distant, fading into a cold, empty ache spreading through your chest. You hadn’t expected it to hurt this much, hadn’t realized how much you’d been hoping he’d say the opposite, that he’d fight for whatever was happening between you.

You dropped your gaze, feeling foolish, vulnerable, exposed. “So that’s it? We just… pretend this doesn’t exist?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like nothing’s been happening all this time?”

Quinn’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his expression pained. “I don’t want to pretend. But I can’t… I won’t hurt him, not like that. He’s my brother.” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly. “And he really cares about you.”

You swallowed hard. It felt ridiculous—being here, feeling so foolishly hopeful, only to be left with a hollow ache and a fractured connection that couldn’t ever be more. Part of you wanted to yell at him for leading you on, for those late-night conversations and stolen glances, for every unspoken word that now felt like a cruel joke.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish it could be different.”

The words left you hollow. Part of you wanted to fight, to tell him that what you felt couldn’t just be ignored, but another part — the part that knew him and understood his loyalty — couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to choose you over his brother. Not when you saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain that mirrored your own.

“Fine,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. You stood up, the cool night air prickling your skin as you walked away from the fire, leaving him there in silence. You didn’t look back. It felt like your chest was filled with broken glass, each breath painful, as you made your way back to the house.

Inside, the stillness was almost suffocating. The others had already gone to bed, and the darkened living room felt cold and empty, mirroring the ache in your heart. You climbed the stairs to your room, shutting the door softly behind you as you sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. A mix of anger and sadness filled you. You were mad at Quinn, for drawing you in only to push you away; mad at Jack, for being in the way even if he hadn’t meant to be; mad at Trevor, for ever convincing you to come here; and, perhaps most of all, mad at yourself, for letting your heart hope for something that could never be.

The next morning, a heavy quiet blanketed the lake house. You moved through the motions of breakfast with the others, but your thoughts felt distant, lost somewhere between the memories of last night and the weight of Quinn’s words. The morning was made slightly easier by the absence of Quinn who you were told went into the town early that morning to run errands and hit the gym. The guys bantered and talked about heading out on the boat, planning an afternoon on the lake, but you could only muster half-hearted nods and polite smiles. It was hard to focus, every small sound—the clinking of mugs, the soft scrape of a chair—only intensifying the ache you couldn’t shake.

Excusing yourself, you slipped away before anyone could ask questions, making your way down to the dock. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rippling across the lake's surface, and you sat at the edge, feet dangling above the water. You were still in your sleep outfit, not exactly pyjamas, but rather a comfy oversized hoodie and a pair of mens boxers. The familiar scent of pine and fresh earth surrounded you, but even the peaceful view couldn’t ease the storm of emotions inside.

The quiet was soon broken by the sound of footsteps approaching, and you didn’t need to look to know it was Jack. You felt him sit beside you, his presence warm and grounding. For a moment, he didn’t say anything — just let the silence settle between you both, as though he was waiting for you to be ready.

Finally, he cleared his throat, glancing sideways at you. “You okay this morning? You’ve been… quiet,” he said softly, his voice tentative, as if he were stepping carefully around broken glass. “Distant.”

You swallowed, bracing yourself as you met his gaze. His eyes were filled with genuine concern, a softness that only made this harder. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking back out at the lake. “Guess I just needed some space.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. His fingers drummed nervously on the edge of the dock, and after a beat, he spoke again, his tone thoughtful, almost nostalgic.

“You know,” he began, eyes cast down at the water, “when Trevor told me he was bringing a friend this summer, he was so sure we’d hit it off. He kept going on about how you and I would be perfect for each other, that we’d get along great.” A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “I remember feeling this weird, excited energy like… maybe he was right, you know? Maybe I was going to meet someone special.”

You felt a lump forming in your throat as he continued, his voice carrying a warmth that was both comforting and deeply bittersweet.

“And when you got here…” He hesitated, his eyes meeting yours, as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t know, it just… felt easy, from the start. Like we’d known each other forever. I started to feel like maybe Trevor had been onto something.” He gave a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of unspoken feelings.

“Things felt really good between us, and I thought you felt it too,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I started to get my hopes up—thinking maybe this was the start of something real.”

You winced, guilt gnawing at you. “Jack… I’m so sorry,” you said, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, truly. I think you’re amazing. From the bottom of my heart, I just… I mean there’s gotta be some sort of spell this fucking house puts me under because I would be insane otherwise to not like you! You… you’re so perfect that any other girl would be scremaing at me, trying to claw my eyes out for not appreciating you. But… I just can’t. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Jack’s eyes softened, a mix of sadness and resignation settling in them. He looked down, his fingers still drumming but more slowly now, as if grounding himself. After a moment, he took a deep breath and let it out, his shoulders sagging slightly.

“I get it,” he murmured, though his voice had an unmistakable crack in it. “I mean… I think I get it. You can’t force something that isn’t there, right?” He gave a sad smile, one that tried to mask the hurt but didn’t quite succeed.

He stared out at the water, his expression distant, like he was trying to piece together what had gone wrong, or maybe just what he’d missed. A tense silence settled between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on the air around you. Jack cleared his throat, seeming to steel himself, his gaze searching your face as if looking for an answer to a question he hadn’t yet asked.

“Can I… can I just ask you one thing?” he said, voice barely above a whisper. His vulnerability in that moment was palpable, and you could feel your heart pounding, bracing yourself for what was coming.

You nodded, feeling your throat tighten.

“Do you… have feelings for Quinn?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful, and a part of you wished he hadn’t asked. But the look in his eyes told you he needed to know, that the uncertainty was gnawing at him just as much as the truth might.

Slowly, you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you whispered, “Yes.”

A heavy silence fell between you, and Jack seemed to shrink a little, his shoulders slumping as he took it in. Jack’s gaze fixed on the lake, and for a long moment, he said nothing. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his expression neutral, to keep his emotions tightly bound. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

“So, you… you and Quinn. Is there… anything actually happening between you two?” He glanced at you, a flicker of something raw in his eyes — hope, maybe, or just the need to understand.

You shook your head, offering a small, bittersweet smile. “No, Jack. We’re… we’re not together. We won’t be.”

He looked at you, brow furrowed. “Why not?” he asked softly, his confusion obvious. “If you feel that way about him, why wouldn’t you try?”

You took a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Because Quinn… Quinn’s too good of a brother. He’d never go for me because of you… and because of what he knows you feel.”

Jack blinked, his brow furrowing as he took in your words. “Wait—what does that mean? Because of me?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion. His gaze softened, and you could see he was fighting to keep his tone steady, like he was trying not to hope.

You sighed, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. “Quinn told me he could never be with me because he knows how you feel. He doesn’t want to hurt you, Jack.”

Jack’s jaw clenched, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face. “So… let me get this straight,” he muttered, almost incredulously. “He’s not doing anything about how he feels—because of me?”

You nodded, and Jack fell silent, staring down at his hands, which had stopped drumming and were now clenched tightly in his lap. He seemed deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he processed what you’d just told him. The lake was quiet around you, the stillness broken only by the occasional ripple of water.

For a long time, Jack didn't say anything, just stared down at the water, his brows drawn together. You could almost feel the weight of his thoughts, the way he was wrestling with everything that had just been laid out. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, raw.

“So he… he cares enough to stay away,” Jack said slowly, the words laced with a sadness that felt almost like admiration. “That's… just like him.” He took a deep breath, forcing a small, sad smile. “I wish things were different. I wish we could just rewind, go back to the start of summer and… and pretend this never happened.”

You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. “Me too,” you whispered, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I never wanted any of this to happen, Jack. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

Jack looked over at you, his expression softening, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of the easy, unburdened friendship you’d had in the beginning. “I know,” he murmured. “You’re not the kind of person who’d do this on purpose. It’s just… life, I guess. It’s complicated, ‘n messy as hell. And… maybe Trevor was right. We do get along. Just… maybe not in the way he thought we would.”

He smiled, a genuine one this time, though tinged with a sadness he couldn’t hide. “Maybe someday… I won’t feel this way,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the soft lapping of the lake against the dock. “But for now… I think I just need a little space. Time, maybe.”

You nodded, understanding that this was what he needed, even if it hurt to hear. “I get it, Jack. I do.”

Jack gave a nod, his gaze returning to the water, the weight of unspoken words settling over the two of you. In the next moment, he reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze—a quiet truce, an understanding. Then he stood, brushing off his shorts and glancing back at the house.

“I’ll be up at the house for a bit,” he murmured, the distance in his tone unmistakable. With that, he turned and walked back up the dock, his footsteps slow and heavy.

In the following days, there was a noticeable shift in the air; everyone felt it, though no one dared to name it. Conversations were stilted, laughter felt forced, and even the once-lively dinners had become quiet affairs, each of you treading carefully as if one wrong word might shatter the fragile peace that held you all together. Jack avoided you and Quinn as much as he could, lingering at the edge of group activities, his usual easygoing energy replaced by something more closed off, guarded.

Quinn, for his part, kept his distance too, his usual calm presence clouded by an unspoken tension. It was as if he knew that the delicate line he was walking might snap at any moment, sending everything spiraling out of control.

You couldn't ignore the heaviness that had settled over the house, a tangible sense of tension that made everything feel off-kilter. As much as you'd wanted this summer to be an escape, it had become the very opposite — a painful reminder of all the ways things could go wrong.

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself wide awake, thoughts racing. The decision took shape slowly, a reluctant resolve that you couldn’t shake. You needed to leave. Staying here, caught between the fractured pieces of what had been and what could never be, was too much to bear. The thought of facing both brothers day after day, watching Jack’s guarded smiles and Quinn’s restrained distance—it was too much. They deserved space, and, you realized, so did you.

With a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and booked a flight out for two days later, the earliest you could manage. You barely slept, running through potential conversations in your mind, eventually deciding you were only going to tell Trevor and slip out quietly, not wanting to cause anymore issues.

You forced yourself to push through the pain and awkwardness during the two remaining days until you would be returning back to California. As the days inched closer to your departure, the weight of unspoken words grew heavier, settling into every corner of the lake house. You caught glimpses of Jack, his face turning away when he thought no one was watching as if even looking at you and Quinn felt like reopening an unhealed wound. Quinn’s glances were no less fraught, though his were filled with a wistful restraint, as if he was already mourning the loss of something that had barely even begun.

The dinners, once filled with laughter, now passed in subdued tones, each person more focused on their plate than the conversation. You found yourself counting down the days and hours, conflicted between the need to escape the tension and the ache of leaving it all behind. In those last two days, you kept reminding yourself that soon, you’d be on a plane back to California, back to your own life — away from Jack’s pained looks and Quinn’s longing stares.

Your final day there, you packed your belongs up quickly, hoping Trevor would buy your excuse of not wanting to miss your flight as a good reason for him to take you to the airport early, and not because you couldn’t bear to spend one more hour in this suffocating oasis. Everyone else was lounging by the water, with the exception of Jack who lingered in the kitchen, opting to do the dishes rather than be around the others. He was lost in thought when he heard the patio door slide open and shut, the sound of bare feet padding against the hardwood. He turned to the entrance of the kitchen, seeing Quinn wearing his boardshorts and a slightly guarded look.

Quinn stopped at the threshold, eyes flicking briefly to Jack’s hands as he scrubbed the dishes. They were tense, knuckles white around the plate he held, and the silence between them was palpable and heavy. Jack set down the dish with a clatter, bracing himself on the edge of the sink, not looking at Quinn. Jack didn’t give Quinn time to speak. The words erupted from him, fueled by everything he’d been holding back.

“Do you even understand what you’re doing?” Jack’s voice was low and seething, barely contained. He didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t dare let Quinn get a word in. “You’re hurting her, Quinn. A perfectly nice girl, who came here not looking for this mess but got dragged into it anyway. And the worst part is, you know it. You know it, and you’re still just… sitting back like a damn martyr, thinking that by staying distant, you’re somehow making it easier for everyone. That by holding back, you’re sparing her, sparing me.”

Jack’s words cut through the quiet, sharper than the silence that had settled in the house over the past days. The vulnerability in his tone was raw, scraping against Quinn’s stoic expression. Quinn shifted uncomfortably but didn’t interrupt; he only looked at Jack, his gaze unwavering.

“And you know what? I kind of hate you for it,” Jack continued, voice unsteady. He turned his head just enough for Quinn to catch the anger, the hurt in his eyes. “I hate that you waltzed in and just took her from me without even trying. And, yeah, maybe that’s selfish. Maybe I never really had a chance, but she was still there, and I was trying. I was there, damn it!”

Quinn finally took a step forward, but Jack cut him off again, his hands clenching at the counter. “And I hate you for pretending like you’re doing the right thing by telling her nothing will happen. You act like you’re some noble saint by ‘staying away,’ but it’s a lie, Quinn. It’s a lie, and we both know it. You’re holding back because you’re scared — scared to go after what you really want, and in the end, you’re just making it worse for everyone. For her. For me.”

Jack’s voice wavered, then cracked, as he finally fell silent, chest heaving from the force of his confession. The words had cost him, as if each syllable had drawn blood. The only sound in the room was the dripping of the faucet, each drop amplifying the tension between them.

Quinn stayed quiet for a long moment, his gaze steady as he absorbed every word. He studied Jack, weighing something unspoken. “Would you hate me if I went for her, then?” His tone was gentle, almost hesitant, a softness that Jack hadn’t been prepared for.

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I probably would.” He ran a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping him. “I mean I hate you right now for making her feel the way she does. But it shouldn’t matter, Quinn. Not if you two… if you actually care about each other.” Jack’s voice faltered, breaking under the weight of his own honesty. “Look, I’ll get over it. In time. But don’t waste what could be something good just because you’re trying to spare everyone. It’s pointless, and it’s selfish. You need to get to her before it’s too late.”

Quinn could feel Jack’s anger and pain, an emotion so raw and tangled it clawed at the air between them. For a second, Quinn thought of how different things could have been if he had stayed on the sidelines, if he hadn’t let himself get close to you. But as Jack’s gaze softened, an odd understanding settled between them. Jack wasn’t letting go easily, but he was letting go.

Jack’s shoulders slumped, exhausted, as he ran a hand over his face. “She’s leaving today, you know?” he said to Quinn, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Trev told me last night she booked her flight out for this afternoon.”

Quinn’s face fell, and the guarded look faded, replaced with something dangerously close to panic. He hadn’t known—hadn’t expected that this was it. That today was the end.

“She’s leaving?” Quinn asked, Jack nodding. “Why didn’t she say anything? W-why is she leaving?”

“Because why would she stay?” Jack said. “She’s going to protect herself. She’s not gonna stay here, hoping for something that won’t happen. She’s too smart for that.”

The realization struck Quinn like a punch to the gut, leaving him breathless. Jack's words echoed in his mind, each one sharper than the last. She’s leaving. Of course, she would. She wasn’t the type to hang around hoping for some half-hearted promise or for Quinn to finally decide what he wanted. She deserved so much more than waiting for him to get his act together.

Jack's voice softened, pulling him back to the present. "Quinn, it’s not too late. She hasn’t left yet. If you really care about her, don’t let her go like this."

Quinn’s gaze faltered, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing his expression. Could he really undo the damage he’d done by staying away? Could he find the words to convince her that, despite his silence, he’d felt everything just as deeply as she had?

A heavy silence followed before Quinn found his voice. “What… what should I say to her?”

Jack shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. “You really think I’m giving you advice on how to get the girl I wanted?”

Quinn’s face softened in a rare, grateful smile. “Fair enough.” He hesitated, then turned, steeling himself as he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to his own fractured thoughts.

Quinn climbed the stairs two at a time, his pulse racing with every step, anticipation and fear warring within him. As he reached the top, he saw Trevor just exiting your room. Trevor paused, giving Quinn a look that held no small amount of concern.

“I don’t know what went down between you three,” Trevor said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I care about her, and I don’t like seeing her like this. You going to fix whatever mess this is?”

Quinn’s chest tightened. He knew Trevor had been close to you, learning this summer just how much of a big brother figure he was to you. He couldn’t fault him for looking out for you.

“I’m going to fix it,” Quinn said, his voice quiet but firm. He met Trevor’s gaze, hoping to communicate the sincerity in his words. “I have to.”

Trevor didn’t say anything else, but he gave Quinn a long, steady look, as though weighing whether to believe him. Then he gave a nod and shifted your duffle bag, stepping aside to let Quinn pass. With a final glance at Trevor, Quinn walked to your door, his heart racing. Quinn stood outside your door for a moment, his hand hovering above the doorknob. He knew what he needed to say, but a part of him feared that the damage was already done. Bracing himself, he knocked gently before pushing the door open.

You were standing by the window, your zipped duffle bag sitting on your bed. Your back was to the door when Quinn entered, and for a moment, he almost turned around, the words caught in his throat. But then you turned, your eyes meeting his.

“Are you really going?” Quinn asked, his voice quiet and strained.

You nodded, stepping away from the window and closer to Quinn. “I think it’s best. This whole summer has just… it’s too much, Quinn. I didn’t come here expecting any of this, and now I just feel… caught. And I can’t keep feeling this way.”

Quinn swallowed, his gaze never leaving yours. He looked as though he was battling something heavy, words lingering on his lips, waiting to escape. He stepped forward, close enough that you could see the faint circles under his eyes, the fatigue that seemed to pull at his features.

“I didn’t expect any of this either,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “And I get it — you’re right. I hurt you. I know that. I thought… I thought if I kept my distance, it would somehow make it easier for everyone. That maybe you'd move on from this — move on from me, and be with Jack. I thought it would hurt less.”

You held his gaze, your voice low but unwavering. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Quinn? All summer, feeling this… this connection between us, and thinking that I had to be imagining it because you couldn’t even look at me. And you’re saying you did that on purpose? To protect me?” Your voice trembled. “That’s not protecting me. That’s running away.”

Quinn took a shaky breath, stepping closer, his expression taut with regret. “I know I messed up. I was spineless and I should have told you the truth sooner.” Quinn said, bowing his head briefly before forcing himself to look up at your hurt eyes. “I told myself that it was better this way, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Because every time I saw you… every time I heard your laugh, or watched you talk to Jack, or caught you looking at me — I couldn’t breathe.”

Quinn took one last step forward, less than a foot away from you. He raised his hand to reach you, fingertips grazing your arm gently, as if he feared you might pull away. “But I care about you, more than I thought possible. And I was afraid of that. Afraid of hurting Jack, afraid of hurting you… and afraid of wanting you this much.” He swallowed, his voice growing rough. “But I can’t let you leave without knowing how I feel. I want to be with you I — I need to be with you.”

Your breath hitched, the confession settling over you like a warm, crushing weight. This was what you’d wanted, but it also brought a whirlwind of conflicting emotions crashing down. You took a small step back, just enough to put some distance between you, needing space to gather your thoughts.

Quinn was saying everything you wanted to hear from the beginning. Laying his feelings bare, and exposing his heart in a way you hadn't expected from someone as reserved as him. It was like seeing a hidden part of him, one he’d kept carefully guarded. The vulnerability in his eyes made it clear that this was as terrifying for him as it was thrilling for you.

But in the back of your mind, Jack lingered, his hurt and disappointment woven into every stolen glance and quiet moment of the summer. The image of his face as he realized how you felt about Quinn was something you couldn’t shake. The memory clawed at you, guilt mixing with the longing Quinn’s words evoked.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear that,” you said, voice catching. “But Quinn… Jack — he tried so hard with me this summer, and I couldn’t give him what he wanted because of… well, because of you.” You hesitated, torn between the longing in Quinn’s eyes and the memory of Jack’s earnest, hopeful glances. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And I feel like I’ve done enough damage by just… being here.”

Quinn’s gaze softened, his hand lingering just above your arm, hovering close as if he wasn’t ready to let you go. “I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s complicated. But I talked to Jack this morning. He told me… he told me to come up here and talk to you. To tell you how I felt. He wants you to be happy, and he knows that’s not with him. He’ll get over it.”

“Jack said that?” you whispered, barely able to believe it.

Quinn nodded, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though there was sadness in his eyes. “He might hate me for a while, and I can live with that. But he said I’d regret it if I let you go. And… he was right.”

His hand, warm and steady, traced down your arm, his fingers slipping around yours with a gentle firmness. The touch, gentle but insistent, sent a jolt through you. “I know I’ve messed up,” he murmured, voice barely a whisper. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll make it right. I want this, us… if you do too.”

You nodded, words escaping you as Quinn stepped even closer, his free hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed against your cheek, and you could feel the slight tremor in his touch. He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

His lips barely brushed yours, soft and tentative. Your breath mingled together briefly before your lips locked together. He lingered for a heartbeat, savoring the closeness as if he, too, couldn’t believe this was real. Then, with a surge of emotion, the kiss deepened, all the restraint and hesitation of the summer dissolving as his hand rose to cradle your cheek, holding you to him as though afraid you might disappear.

His stubble that had grown out over the last couple weeks of summer scraped along your jaw and chin, leaving a faint burn that only added to the rush of sensation.

When you pulled back, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you got here,” he murmured, a hint of relief in his voice.

You giggled, staying close and feeling his heartbeat echoing against yours. The silence that followed was thick, but it was different now — no longer tense or uncertain like it had been for most of the summer. It felt as though the weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders.

But even in that moment, you knew the reality of what this would mean—for Jack, for Quinn, and for yourself. There was a part of you that still ached, remembering Jack’s quiet disappointment and knowing it would take time to heal the wounds this summer had left behind.

You swallowed hard, raising a hand to Quinns face and brushing aside his dark locks that fell over his eyes. “I still think I need to go,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not because I don’t want this. I do. But I think both of you need time, and maybe I do too. To let everything settle.”

Quinn nodded, understanding settling over his expression. “I get it,” he replied, taking your hand in his and giving your palm a soft kiss. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. Take all the time you need.”

Quinn let you slip from his arms, his heart squeezing as he watched you grab your bag and exit the room. As you descended the stairs with your duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you saw Jack waiting near the door. His expression softened as you approached, a bittersweet smile crossing his face.

“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice gentle but with an undercurrent of acceptance.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s best. Thank you, Jack. For understanding. And… for everything.”

Jack gave a short nod, his gaze momentarily flickering towards the stairs where Quinn had stopped to watch from a distance. He returned his gaze to you and managed a small, sincere smile. “Go live your life. I wish you and Quinn all the best.”

You hugged him, both of you holding on just a second longer than necessary. When you pulled back, you could see the mix of emotions in his eyes, but there was a sense of peace there too. He’d let go, not because it didn’t hurt, but because he genuinely wanted you to be happy. You felt your heart swell, gratitude mixing with the faint sting of regret for the friendship that would never quite be the same. But Jack’s words lifted the weight off your shoulders, letting you and Quinn move forward.

With a final look, you stepped outside, Trevor waiting to drive you to the airport, his brow furrowed in confusion at the way you suddenly had pep in your step, a small smile present on your lips that had been missing for weeks. As the car pulled away, you stole one last glance at the lake house, catching a glimpse of Quinn watching you from the porch. He raised a hand in a small wave, and you returned it, a soft smile on your lips.

This summer hadn’t turned out anything like you’d expected.

[majestyeverlasting]

the moments in between

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader 

Summary: When Joel and Ellie arrive at the Jackson commune, his strong frame and intense gaze captivate you. But as the days pass, you lose hope that he might be drawn to you as well. That is, until the walls come crashing down and the truth finally reveals itself.

Word Count: 7.3k [slow burn]

A/N: I put a lot of love and time into this one. It's my longest fic so far but it didn't feel hard, which I like to believe is a good thing. Hope it resonates, hope you feel the feels and the yearning between these two—let me know! Hope you're well.

A breeze follows Tommy as he saunters in through the doors of the Tipsy Bison, the soft click of his boot heels echoing off the wood with each easy step. The cowboy hat on his head casts a shadow over his eyes until he takes it off, his dark hair cascading down over his ears. There’s a small smile playing on his lips that makes you narrow your eyes.

Cleaning the bartop suddenly loses its appeal, but you don’t stop, only slow down. The fresh, tangy scent of lemongrass continues to waft up from the motion.     

“We close early on Sunday’s, officer,” you tease as he climbs onto a stool. 

He frowns as he sets his hat aside. “I don’t look like a cop, do I?” You shrug, and he chuckles as his gaze roves over to the pool room. “Nate back there? Yo, Nate!” 

“Evening, Tom,” the older man calls back as he polishes a cue ball. 

“Joel’s made it into town.” There’s no overt emotion in the way he shares the news, but you can see that it’s all in his eyes as he waits for you to react.  

“Joel, Joel? As in your brother?” He nods, still in disbelief himself. “Oh my gosh, that’s amazing, Tommy—right? What the heck.” He used to talk about him all the time. 

His exhale makes way for a shaky smile, “I know. Made it in not too long ago with a young girl he’s looking after,” he tells you, voice thick with a mix of emotions. “He’s outside. Wanted to come in and see if you’d let us grab a drink.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Know it’s late. Promise I’ll make up for the trouble.” He knows it’s no trouble. Not when it comes to him. 

He turns around, barstool squeaking, and waves Joel in through the window. 

You move to start working on their whiskies. “Make it up by letting me be the baby’s godmother?” The glasses clink as you set them onto the bar and begin pouring the caramel colored liquid, smirking when you meet his gaze.

Tommy isn’t completely opposed to the idea. You’d been in Jackson since the beginning, a friend to him and Maria in every sense of the word. Arguably family. “If you can manage not to tick me off until the little one gets here.” Despite his words, his eyes are fond. 

The door creaks open, and Joel strides in, scanning the room. There are pictures on the walls of American icons and landmarks, and old Polaroids of commune members. There’s a guarded confidence to the way he walks, an intensity. 

Tommy quickly leans in and whispers, “He means well. It’s been a long day.” 

Joel takes a seat beside his brother and acknowledges you with a curt nod, tugging on the collar of his shirt.  

“Welcome to Jackson,” you greet, introducing yourself afterwards.

“Joel,” he says, taking you in with a steady gaze. 

“Tommy’s told me a lot about you.” You push their glasses closer to them in an encouragement to start drinking.

Joel takes his first sip and fights back a reflexive grimace. It’s been a while, but it's good. Good enough to make him feel pleasantly warm as it glides down. Tommy drinks off his brother’s lead, and you realize just how alike they look. Joel’s hair is a little shorter and accented with streaks of gray, but they both have those same dark, telling eyes. 

They fall into light conversation, but it’s clearly not what they'd talk about if they were alone. That’s when you sense the distance. The slight edge to the space between them. It’s why Tommy resorts to drawing you in, the two of you ripping off each other as Joel listens, fine with not having to speak until this whole little ordeal was winding to an end. However, he does sit up a little straighter whenever you laugh. You pour them more whiskey when their glasses get empty.     

Eventually, the remaining light outside fades away. Tommy hisses at the sight, standing. “I gotta get home to Maria,” he says, stretching his back. Joel moves to get up too, until, “At least finish off this glass, man. You’ve earned it.” Tommy squeezes his brother’s shoulder. He means it genuinely, at least. “I’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Joel. Thanks again for this,” he tells you. 

“Bye, sheriff,” you call after him. Tommy scoffs.  

Joel realizes just how quiet it is when you move aside to tinker with a bison trinket sitting on the counter, unsure of what to say with Tommy gone. He knows you can see him looking at you. “So, are you here by yourself?” he finally asks. 

A playful smile tugs at your lips. “That’s not a creepy question at all,” you tease, quickly gathering that he doesn’t find the implication funny. “Uncle Nate?” you call. 

“Busy!”  

You raise your brows at Joel. “Not alone.”

Nate was chosen family. The man taught you everything you know about shooting, fishing, and survival even though you gave him a hard time for it when you were younger. He was also the founder of the Tipsy Bison. He only came into the bar on the weekends when he wasn't on patrol. His time in the military all those years ago made it hard to step away from a life of service. 

“We were cleaning when Tommy came in,” you tell Joel. He takes in that information wordlessly. 

“You aren’t much for talking, are you?” Joel takes a sip from his glass. “Nothing wrong with that. Must mean you don’t miss much. Really observant.” When he doesn’t respond, you smile shyly, realizing he probably just wanted to relax after a long day. “Guess I won’t stand here and talk your ears off.” 

The floor creaks as you disappear into the recreation room with Nate, rounding the corner. Joel exhales, shoulders dropping from being drawn up. He almost misses your company. 

Nate sits hunched over a word search puzzle, using the pool table as if it's a normal desk. He doesn’t look up at you, even when you give an affectionate tug to his curly gray ponytail. It was something you’d been doing since the days you both were out on your own and had to stay quiet all the time. Back when there was no safety, no security, no commune. 

“Ouch,” he drones, unphased. 

“Are you gonna come out and meet Tommy's brother?” you ask, low so Joel can’t hear. “I feel like you guys have a lot in common: brooding and grumpy.” Pride flutters in your chest when the man’s lips twitch. 

“I’ll meet him… eventually. Gotta finish this puzzle.” You realize there’s a small hourglasses going, the sand swiftly filling the bottom portion. “There ya are—serendipity.” He circles the letters. 

Word searches were something he recently started doing. When you have a past as extensive as his, it’s always chasing after you in one way or another. Especially in those quiet moments that sneak up on you. He claimed that seeking out words from amid an ordered chaos keeps the racing thoughts at bay whenever they come rushing in. 

Joel is finished by the time you join him again, and you realize he’d waited instead of calling out. Already standing, ready to go. 

“Anything else I can get you?” 

He shakes his head. “I appreciate your hospitality.” 

Joel turns to leave but you keep talking, “So I reckon Tommy already squared you away with a house and a tour of the town?” 

He stops. “I’m across the street from him. Gettin’ the tour tomorrow.”  

“That’s great, I’m really glad you found us.” You sound so genuine that there’s a flutter in his gut. “We’re a pretty crazy bunch, but I think you’re gonna like it here.” 

“Hope so.” Those are the words he leaves you with.

Your eyes stay trained on his back as he makes his way towards the door, stride the same as when he first arrived. Perhaps a little looser. Before he exits the bar, his eyes catch a glimpse of one of the decorative license plates secured to the wall: Austin, Texas. 

Shortly after he makes it outside, his heart rate ticks up in that impending way he wishes wasn’t so familiar, breath catching in his throat as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. There’s no escaping the panic as it sets in, surging through him. A few staggering steps allow him to brace a hand on a wooden directory board. 

You see it all from inside. At first, you think he’s trying to read the sign, but then he hunches over more and grips his chest. Without thinking, you jog towards the doors. 

“Joel?” You call once you’ve broken outside. 

It’s a cool spring night, a crescent moon shares its pale glow from above. Most of Jackson is already tucked away inside or at least halfway there. But in this sliver of time, it feels like it’s just the two of you outside. Joel doesn’t let on that he’d heard you, but the moment you’re close enough, you recognize what’s going on. You press your palm to his back to let him know you’re there. That he’s still here. 

“Concentrate on your breathing. In and out, just like that,” you encourage, settling on rubbing his back in measured passes. Then you go quiet on the off chance he needs that. 

In your newfound silence, Joel is forced to focus on the shaky breaths rising from his lungs. That’s when he accepts he’s not in control. Not in the grand scheme of things. There’s a whole big fallen world just outside the gates of this haven. A world that had taken people he loved and was cruel enough to let him be the one who lived to tell the tale. The heat that rises to his cheeks is made up of frustration more than distress, crackling like pop. Like coals. 

The ground takes on a vignette as he stares at it, his vision briefly closes in. You never withdraw your touch. 

When his breaths eventually begin to steady, you remember how to breathe yourself. With a tired exhale, he straightens back up to his full height, and you take a few small steps away. Maybe this wasn’t new, but a fact of life for the man who’d rode into Jackson in an air of mystery and a young girl by his side. Maybe he never wanted you to get a glimpse at this side of him. If he feels that way, he doesn’t make it obvious. He almost looks appreciative that you’d bothered enough to care. 

“Sorry to scare you,” he rasps, not meeting your gaze even though he can feel it. You want to tell him that there isn’t much that scares you anymore. At least that’s what you like to believe. “I’m usually alone.” 

Except, tonight, he wasn’t. And maybe that wasn’t such a terrible thing. 

•••

Howdy Stranger

This is Jackson Hole

The last of the Old West 

Joel reads the painted wooden sign as Tommy and Maria show him and Ellie around. There are people everywhere. Children playing outside, adults fluttering in and out of shops. All while the Teton mountains loom and watch over it all with their snow-capped peaks. He looks over at the girl when she nudges his arm, pointing to a Calico lounging on a porch. Despite her beaming smile, all he offers is a low hum. 

It was hard to be in the now when his thoughts were split between the past and future. Up until Jackson, there was no such thing as stability, and he couldn’t help but think about the day that the rug would be pulled from beneath the commune as well. Ellie’s smile fades when she notices the harsh squint of his face. He kicks himself for it.   

“Cat hater,” she mumbles under her breath.

Joel grunts and directs his attention back to his brother. 

When the tour comes to an inevitable end, Ellie sings Jackson’s praises after Tommy and Maria go their separate ways with a promise to reconnect later that day. He lets her talk as they make their way back to their new house, idly agreeing every once in a while. A few curious eyes fall on them as they walk, but Joel doesn’t pay them any mind. 

“Dude, are you even listening to me?” Ellie stops walking to give him a flat look. 

“I hear you,” he insists. “Been hearing you for the past ten minutes.”

There’s no snark in his tone, but Ellie still feels the slight sting of offense. “Well, sorry for being excited about having a nice place to live for once. It’s not like I was born into hell or anything—I mean the Boston QZ.” Sarcasm drips from her voice as she starts walking again, faster so it looks like they’re not together.

Joel swallows down guilt like it’s just another pill. His legs are long, so it doesn’t take much to catch back up with her.

“Hey…Kid…Ellie.” She keeps ignoring him. “This is new for me too, okay? Everybody’s got a different way of processing, can we agree on that?” It’s a fair enough proposal. He never had been forward when it came to sharing his thoughts. “Wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she murmurs, deciding to take a break from her rambling for his sake. The mutual silence isn’t so bad. 

Someone he isn’t expecting to see is you. You’re wearing a backpack and ushering a line of young kids into the community center. One of the little girls stops and stretches her arms up towards you, earning a playful eyeroll before being lifted onto your hip. Joel doesn’t miss the way the afternoon sunlight catches your face. 

•••

The next day, a faint thump against the door startles Ellie as she sketches in the dining room. Rather than getting up from the table, she remains still, pencil in hand and brows furrowed. Upstairs, the spray of the shower continues as Joel lets it drown out everything else. Three light knocks eventually sound, and she musters up the courage to scurry to the front. 

She peeks out the window first, spotting you. Someone she hadn’t seen around. An amused smile pulls at her lips at the way you’ve seemingly wrestled the big basket you’re holding into a better grip than before. 

When she opens the door, you let out a relieved sigh. “Special delivery,” you say before introducing yourself. 

“That’s a really pretty name,” she compliments, already warming up to you. “I’m Ellie—is all that stuff for us?” When you nod, she excitedly steps aside and ushers you in. 

“I’m not gonna say you shouldn’t have because that’d be a lie,” she shamelessly admits. “You can put it right over here.” You follow her into the living room and place the welcome basket on the coffee table. 

A few of the ladies you volunteer with helped you put it together after your shift counseling for the spring break camp. There were cookies, seeds, natural soaps, feminine hygiene products, and even a knit blanket that looked particularly soft and cozy. Ellie wastes no time reaching out to run her fingers over it. A laugh bubbles up your throat when her jaw drops. 

“This is literally what clouds feel like.” She haphazardly pulls the blanket out the basket, wrapping it around herself like a cape. “If Joel says anything, this was specifically included for me.” 

“I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to share if he asked nicely,” you reason, amused. Ellie’s nose wrinkles. “But to be fair, we did think you’d be the one to really appreciate it.”

She smiles at being considered. “Who made it? This is, like, next level.” 

“A woman named Emilia,” you tell her. “She actually made me one back when Jackson was first being built up that I still have,” you tell her, taking a seat on the couch and looking around. The evening sunlight pours in through the windows, casting golden streaks onto the floors. “Now she’s always got a few on standby.” 

Ellie sits beside you, reaching out to dig through the other contents in awe. “They told us the commune's only, like, seven years old on our tour yesterday,” she recounts. Think you’ll have your blanket forever?” 

“Forever’s an awful long time. It might hold up,” you think aloud. Ellie nods, contemplative. “I can take you by to meet her sometime, if you’d like. She’s the resident seamstress, so you’ll probably end up crossing paths anyways.” 

“What about you? What do you do?” she asks, giving you her full attention. 

“I mainly help coordinate community events. Been stepping in to assist with the youth spring break camp for the last couple days, though,” you say. “Also bartend on the nights that I feel like it. Just for fun, you know?” 

Ellie's face lights up. “I’ve had whiskey before.” She puffs out her chest when she says it, and you play into her pride by raising an impressed brow. The first and last time you had a sip was when you snuck it from Nate as a teen. “But that’s really cool, though. The community stuff and all that.” You can tell by her tone that she means it. In more ways than one, you’re reminded of your younger self. 

“Joel’s gonna join the patrol. He says I’m too young, but that’s just bullshit.” She says the last part lower as if he’s somewhere listening. “I’ll figure out a way to make him cave.” There’s an air of confidence to her voice that suggests she’s done it before. The thought warms a tiny portion of your chest.

“I’ve gone out with my uncle Nate a few times. It can be a lot,” you admit. “He just wants you safe, Nate’s the same way.” 

As Joel stops at the top of the staircase, freshly showered, he catches those last words. He’d know your voice even if it’d been forever. His footsteps are quiet as he descends the stairs, but you hear him coming nevertheless. Ellie’s too busy sniffing the pine soap as you straighten up and glance his way. Joel’s eyes are as observant as you remember when they land on you, seeing into you, it seems. His damp hair is combed back in a way that makes him look more distinguished. 

“There you are.” You stand up with a smile. You’d been wondering how he was doing since the panic attack.

He wishes your warmth wasn't so compelling.  

Ellie whips around to look at him. “I know you said not to open the door to strangers—which is practically everybody at this point—but she’s really nice and brought us gifts so you can’t be mad at me,” she rushes out. He clocks the blanket around her shoulders. 

He hmphs. “That’s how they get you.” He’s not being serious, but Ellie frowns, trying to read through his eternal poker face. “Treats and a friendly smile.” Your lips twitch in amusement as Ellie narrows her eyes. 

When Joel starts walking your way, she consoles herself with the fact that he would've already asked you to leave if he sensed your intentions were off. The commune wasn’t filled with questionable people like that anyways. The two of them didn’t have to be apprehensive of every soul they came across anymore. 

He’s close enough now that you can smell the cedar soap on his skin. “I’m not a stranger,” you lightly defend. “Not entirely.” You look from Ellie to Joel. 

A wall rises in real time, shutting you out right along with the night you met. It happens in his eyes just like everything does. He hadn’t mentioned you to her, and it was your mistake for believing he would’ve at least passed on a name. 

You swallow back a small lump in your throat that may not be entirely just. “Anyways, hopefully you guys will be able to put this stuff to use.” 

“Of course we will,” Ellie pipes up. “Are you leaving already?” She hadn’t missed the finality that had crept into your tone. 

You nod. “Don’t wanna take up too much of your evening. I actually meant to come by sooner.” 

“Well, are you going to the dining hall for dinner?” Her gaze flicks to Joel. “Maybe you can come with us.” 

Joel knows he’s in trouble when he hears the fondness in Ellie’s voice. It’s the same sentiment he was straining to tamper down within himself. Every time he opened his mouth or looked at you, it tried to claw its way to the forefront. The last thing he needed was another person getting close enough to see that he was a million tiny pieces being held together by the glue of whatever god was keeping him alive. 

You decline her invitation, expressing plans to go to your uncle’s place. But you give her a rain check. When you go to leave, Joel allows his eyes to flitter down the rest of your body. 

That wouldn’t be the last he saw of you. But it was always from afar, lingering on the outskirts. Wishing there was a seamless way he could fall into your orbit without sending everything spiraling out of control. 

You were always looking right back at him with hope in your eyes, holding space. Waiting for your world to be shaken. 

•••

Laughter, chatter, and music drown out the insects that usually take precedence at night. Weeks of planning had finally come into fruition. All of Main Street is lined with fairy lights that cast their warm glow down on the summer festival. There was no shortage of entertainment, games, and food. It was a time to let loose and relish the sweetness in the air along with that of life. 

Nate plays his harmonica for a group of children around the bonfire, all clapping and stomping along. A smile graces your face as you walk by, waving at him. The fullness of your heart almost overrides the ache that has settled in the arches of your feet. You’d barely sitten down since earlier that morning when preparation began. There was a sense of responsibility that came along with the orange vest you were dawned in. The pressure to assist, and guide, and answer questions wasn’t all on you, but the other volunteers were better at taking breaks. 

Tommy’s grainy voice breaks into the air through a megaphone, “Thirteen-and-up three-legged races starting in five minutes, this is your last call. Grab a partner and make your way over to the east lawn,” he says. “Again, this is the last call.”

Joel and Ellie already happen to be seated at a picnic table that gives them a perfect view of the race setup and Tommy facilitating in an orange vest of his own. Ellie had already worked through her first honey cake and was eyeing Joel’s. He pretends not to notice until she looks up at him all wide-eyed.  

“Can I—” he slides his plate over to her. “Thanks.” 

“Your eyes are bigger than your stomach,” he lightly accuses, shaking his head. 

“What does that even mean?” She takes a bite. “Weirdo.” 

Joel just grumbles and tosses a napkin her way. She wipes her mouth and keeps staring at him. Not because she’s waiting for an answer, but because there’s amusement sparkling in his eyes. Which happens more often now that they’d had a couple months to settle into Jackson. A laugh was coming, she could feel it. 

“Quit gawking at me and eat.” There’s a tell-tale waver in his voice. 

“No.” Ellie lightly kicks his shin beneath the table and that’s what sets him off. 

He tries to bite back a chuckle, but he gives in when it doesn’t work out, shoulders shaking. Ellie starts grinning at him from across the table, and he kicks her back with the tip of his boot. 

“Hey!” She breaks into giggles and retaliates. He lets her have the little victory. 

A small smile lingers on his face when he regains his composure. They sit in a comfortable silence as Ellie finishes the rest of her dessert, taking in the festivities around them. 

It isn’t long before a girl with dark hair approaches their table. She’s a ball of masked nerves. “Hi,” she greets. “Ellie, right?” She says it as if it’s possible for her to have forgotten. As if after they sat together at last week’s movie night, she hadn’t been thinking about her since. 

Ellie get’s uncharacteristically squirmy. “Oh. Hey, Dina.” 

Joel can’t believe it.

Dina tucks a flyaway behind her ear. “My old partner bailed, so I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna do the three-legged race with me. I think we’d make a better team anyways.” Then she glances at Joel. “If you wouldn’t mind me stealing her away for a bit.” 

“Take her,” Joel quips, making Dina laugh. 

Warmth rushes to Ellie’s cheeks as she stands. “Sure, let’s go.” 

The two of them jog over to get prepped for the race. Joel watches the whole while, warmth kindling in his chest at the fact that she was slowly finding her tribe. The race doesn’t start for another couple minutes, and when it does, Ellie and Dina burst off into first. It’s intense. The whole ordeal is a mess of laughter, stumbling, and flailing limbs. In the end, the duo end up placing second, crossing the finish line only to fall into a heap of giggles with their legs tied together. 

Joel stands from the picnic table with a grunt to throw away all the empty plates. He has every intention to sit back down, but notices a few frazzled volunteers carrying mops and towels. Then his eyes rove over to the long line standing at the drink stands. Adults check their watches, children fidget. A woman in an orange vest is talking to another woman managing the stand. He doesn’t realize is you until you turn away from her and beeline towards the community center, looking stressed. 

“Hey,” he calls out to a stout man wearing an apron. “Do you know what’s going on?” 

He’s surprised Joel caught on. Everyone else was carrying on as usual, carefree and unaware. “There was a spill at the community center. You know Mr. Robertson’s special Summer Fest punch?” he asks in a thick Brooklyn accent, Joel nods because he’d heard the rave. Apparently it was made especially for the festival. “Kitchen’s flooded with it. I didn’t have time to build an ark,” he jokes.  

Joel wrestles with himself. “I’ll go see if I can help.” 

By the time you exit the community center, gaze fixed over your shoulder, you crash into Joel. He instinctively reaches out to steady you, touch firm but gentle. “Whoa, easy there.” The low timbre of his drawl is enough to draw your mind away from all the noise. “You alright? Here, let’s get out of the way.” You let him pull you aside by your elbow. 

When you look into his eyes, there’s so many things you wish it was the appropriate time to say. It’s been cordial between the two of you, but it always seemed like he was in a constant state of backing away, like an animal scared of giving into a primal craving.  

There was always a reason why he couldn’t stay in your presence longer than he did. He had to get back to Ellie, or turn in early for his patrol shift the next day, or some other excuse. Even during the game nights you hosted, he would always leave before his belly was full and the real fun was about to begin. When everyone was finally free of the day’s worries and truly ready to talk, laugh, and let everything ride on the toss of a dice. 

He’d resigned himself to enjoying you in the little here and there, the moments in between. So much so that even Ellie had begun to notice. It was in the way he never allowed himself to lean in too close whenever you were at his side. Or never fully crawled out of his shell no matter how many times you smiled sweetly or let your fingertips brush his forearm. 

“Does anything hurt?” He asks more intently. As he scans you over, he notices your clothes. The lower portion of your vest and the thighs of your flared jeans are stained with a wet, dark substance. 

“I’m fine, Joel.” You pull away from him with more force than necessary, feeling guilty for the way he swallows and takes a step back. “Sorry.” You release a heavy exhale, tears welling in your eyes with a dull sting. “I’m ruining everyone’s night.” 

Joel frowns. “No you’re not. Tell me what happened.” 

“I was trying to transfer the extra beverage dispenser onto the wagon so I could wheel it out to the drink stand, but it slipped out of my grip,” you explain. “The lid came off and the punch spilled everywhere.” You wipe your tears away quickly, as if they’ll stain too. 

“Accidents happen,” Joel’s tone is steady like scripture, tenderness peeking through just enough to cling onto. “Everybody’s fine. The world's still turning.”

Nobody had reacted in an extreme manner. There were gasps and startled jumps, but assurances came rushing in as the janitorial volunteers insisted that they’d get everything cleaned up. Everyone in that kitchen knew that there were worse things in life than spilled juice. Sure, it was upsetting, considering the time Mr. Robertson spent and the people looking forward to drinking more, but it was a small mistake in the grand scheme of things. But when your heart is already heavy and your mind is tangled with other concerns, those little mishaps feel like the most devastating ones. 

There was a directness about Joel, though, that eased away the guilt crawling beneath your skin. It was like he understood what screwing up truly was and this was many light years from it. 

Dina spots Joel in the distance and points him out to Ellie. “There he is over there.” 

Their smiles fall from their faces when they get closer and realize you’re crying. “Holy shit, what happened?” Ellie looks between you and Joel, worry etched onto her face. 

“I just made a stupid mistake.” You sniffle, trying to regain your composure, not wanting to worry them.  There was always something unavoidably daunting about seeing adults cry. 

“You girls stay here with her for a second. I’ll be right back,” Joel instructs. 

A new song starts up by the live band that’s playing. It’s an instrumental rendition of Every Breath You Take. A decent crowd has gathered, nibbling on sourdough and nodding to the melody. Some people are wrapped in each other’s arms. Joel soaks it all in as he navigates back to the racing lawn. 

Tommy claps him on the back when he makes it and Joel returns the gesture. “You enjoying yourself, man?” Tommy asks. 

“Yeah,” he says distractedly. “There was a spill at the community center, so no more punch. You think you can get everybody on the same page?” 

“Copy that.” 

Tommy’s voice carries through the megaphone as Joel makes his way back to you, the announcement fading with each step. 

“Howdy, folks. Some of you may have already heard, but in case you haven’t, there’s been a little spill and we are unfortunately all out of Mr. Robertson’s world famous punch for the night. We apologize if you didn’t get the chance to try it, but I promise we’ll figure out a way to make it up to y'all. In the meantime, I heard the lemonade and ice tea ain’t half bad.” 

His words blur into the background as Joel makes it back to you. There are a few disappointed groans, but nobody is completely devastated by the news. They keep carrying on just as he knew they would. 

Tears no longer streak your face when Joel makes it back, Ellie and Dina seeming to have lifted your spirits a little more. 

“Do you wanna go get cleaned up?” Joel suggests. 

Now that you’re thinking about it, the feeling of your clothes sticking to your skin is beginning to grow uncomfortable. You take a deep breath at the thought of walking home, away from Summer Fest, all the energy, all the fun. Joel sees the disappointment on your face. 

“I can go with you,” he offers.

•••

The walk to your house is quiet, the sounds of the night's festivities now distant. The porch steps creak gently under your weight as the two of you ascend them. Joel watches as you unlock the door, but finds himself cemented as you step inside. Confusion, appreciation, frustration, and want are all amalgamated into one look directed right his way. Without saying a word, you head further inside, leaving the door open. 

Joel’s hands twitch at his sides like he’s a live wire wrought with energy. Bugs would fly in if he didn’t do something—that’s the justification he creates. You’re halfway to the laundry room when you hear the front door shut behind him as he follows after you. 

The living room is illuminated by dim lamplight as he walks through. A quick glance into the kitchen gives him sight of one of Ellie’s more recent drawings stuck to the refrigerator door with a smiley face magnet. It's a portrait of your face that you agreed to sit for one lazy afternoon while Joel was away on patrol. 

The air smells like you. Understated and sweet, floral and earthen. Small plants line multiple windowsills despite how convinced you were that you couldn’t keep anything alive. The whole commune would be worse off without you and he’d be the first to wilter away. 

At the sound of a zipper and clothes brushing against skin, he stops his pursuit of you. Miles away even though you’re mere yards apart. All he has is your shadow, dancing in the dim light pooling out of the laundry room and into the hall with him. He backs himself into the cool wall and closes his eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Up and down and up again. An SOS in the middle of a sea when salvation was right within reach. It gets quiet after a while. No more running water, or cabinet doors, or shuffling around. 

“You can let me in, you know?” comes your voice, so light it’s almost nothing. Joel releases a shaky breath and opens his eyes to the sight of you, dawned in old shorts and a graphic tee. You wish he would say something, anything. Share a fraction of what’s going on in his mind. “I’m right here, Joel.” 

“I know. I see you.” There’s a defensive edge to his voice that’s wounded around the edges, as if he’s trying to accommodate the truth that burns within his ribcage, his stomach, beneath the entirety of his skin. 

“So now what?” You swallow your nerves, studying his face, his neck. “We’re just gonna keep seeing each other for the rest of our lives and that’s it? No knowing, no feeling, no experiencing?” You ask. “No loving?”  

One by one, the walls close in, until it feels like you’re standing toe to toe with nothing but words as weapons and honesty being the only way out. It’s not a fight he’s ready for. He can trek through the harshest winters, fight off monsters and all manner of men, but he’s defenseless in front of you.

There will be no victory, no rising from battle with a bloodied fist or blade, or immediate relief akin to the coming of spring. The only way out is to dig within, and he already knew what resided there. It was a matter of carving it out and laying it on an altar for you to see as you did the same. It’s not a fight at all, it's a sacrifice. All risk with probable reward. 

“I don’t want that to be all that we do.” You’ve never heard Joel speak so quietly. It’s as if there’s Infected lurking nearby and he doesn’t want to be devoured. “Think about you too much.” 

“I was starting to think you didn’t like me at all. Not like how I like you,” you say. 

Joel swallows thickly, warm all over. “How do you like me?” 

You push out of the laundry room doorway to step closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt, the beating of his heart. You let it thrum against your palm until a shallow breath slips past his lips, then you move to cup his stubbled jaw, lightly brushing your thumb over his lower lip. The urge to touch you back grows so great that he finally gives in and lets both of his strong hands settle on your waist.  

Joel can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he leans in towards you, studying your face, searching for any sign that this might be some elaborate ruse. Instead, he finds something so poignant that he doesn’t have the words to define. It’s as terrifying as it is wonderful to, for once, be unable to size up what he’s up against. 

You close the space in between you with a softness that takes his breath away. Bared heart meeting bared heart. Joel’s lips are gentle and unhurried, every second savored and not a single one missed. You try to focus but it feels like you’re falling and flying all at once. Then his fingers dig into your waist a little harder, a silent plea to stay there with him, the warmth of his kiss, the firmness of his body as he pulls you closer. 

Your hands find their way to the back of his neck to play with the hair curled at his nape. The kiss deepens not in urgency but a shared understanding. A promise sealed in the way your bodies fit together. And then, slowly, deliberately, Joel eases back, lips lingering on yours for a heartbeat longer until there’s a slight space in between again. Your breaths mingle as he rests his forehead against yours, thumb stroking tender circles on your waist. 

When you open your eyes, he’s already looking at you, wondering if you can feel that two worlds having converged into one, buzzing with a newness that’s as beautiful as all the words you’d kept bottled inside. 

•••

It hadn’t taken much. Just a hug and a few soft kisses pressed to the underside of his jaw. When Joel’s grumbling finally subsided, it made way for the soothing ripple of the river. You’d settled along the bank and stretched out a few blankets when you first arrived. An hour seemed to pass in the matter of a few seconds, laughter, conversations and all. Now the sun creeps closer and closer to the horizon up in the ombre sky. 

It wasn’t any fault of your own that you’d asked Joel if the date could extend a little longer. It’d been a month of getting to see him in this light, open and unguarded, generous with giving those slow, easy smiles. Willing to lay down across your lap like this when you asked sweetly enough. 

The small mouth of a fish breaks the surface of the water as you trace along his hairline, disappearing by the time you run the pad of your finger down his nose. His lips twitch as he continues to ward off sleep. This time, there’s no stopping a soft laugh from rising up your throat. That’s all it takes for his eyes to flutter open, blinking until they’re able to focus on the soft upturn of your lips. No sooner do they avert to the sky, assessing the fleeting light. 

“We gotta head back now,” his voice is gruff. When he moves to sit up, you place a delicate hand on the center of his chest and he settles back down with a sigh. “C’mon, sweetheart, the sun’s setting. I don’t want you out here in the dark.” 

Packing up and riding back to the commune meant this moment would be resigned to a memory. “A few more minutes won’t hurt,” you insist. 

Before Jackson and before you, every second was about enduring to the next. Life was an endless onwards, onwards, onwards reverberating through his veins. Slowing down was always a risk until you showed him that sometimes life’s most worthwhile moments were in the stillness. Somedays that was easier to remember than others, but he sure did put in an effort. 

“I think you’re enjoying this more than I am anyways,” you tease. The corners of his lips quirk upwards before he can stop them. 

You continue on like that, tracing his face, occasionally glancing up at the snow-capped peaks of the mountains. Then an animal catches your attention across the way, lean and tall with short antlers protruding from its head. You suck in a breath of pleasant surprise, and Joel startles upright thinking the worst. His shoulders relax when he sees the creature. It bends its neck down to nibble at something in the grass until deciding to gallop away. 

“Just a mule deer.” He gives you a look. 

“I know, sorry. I get excited.” You offer an apologetic smile and he's reminded of how beautiful you look in the light of the setting sun, features aglow. He doesn’t say anything, just soaks you in here and now. An airiness fills your chest. 

He stands with a groan, extending a helping hand back down to you. When you’re steady on your feet, he takes your chin in one gentle hand and tilts your head back so he can align his lips with yours. The kiss is brief, and he follows it up with a soft peck.  

“Will you let me take you back home now?” he questions. “Ellie’s gonna have our heads if we’re late for game night. Especially when she’s choosing the line up.” 

•••

No heads roll that night. Plenty of dice do, while Uno cards are slapped onto the coffee table, and Jenga blocks fall. Tommy, Maria, Dina, and your uncle Nate, eventually file out of Joel’s house, leaving the three of you alone. Ellie feigns sleep on the couch as soon as it’s time for cleanup, and dozes off for real as you and Joel start taking care of everything yourselves. 

He steps up behind you as you’re standing at the kitchen sink, snaking his arms around your middle. A curious hum rises up your throat as you lean back into him. 

“I think somebody cheated during Jenga tonight,” he hushes against the shell of your ear, relishing the way you shiver at the warmth of his breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

Joel noses at the back of your head. “So you weren’t the one touchin’ me during that last round?” he asks. “Scratching my back, squeezing my thigh.” 

“It was innocent,” you insist. “It's a stressful game, I was just trying to ease your nerves. How was I supposed to know your hands would get all shaky?” 

A sudden chuckle shakes his chest, sending a ripple of warmth through you. “Ease my nerves? We weren’t even on the same team.” His fingers squeeze your hips in quick, gentle pulses, making you arch into him in a spell of helpless giggles. Joel evades your attempts to grab his wrists, but shows you mercy when you turn around, looking up at him through your lashes like you could do no wrong. 

“You’re lucky I happen to like you an awful lot.” He places both hands on the counter behind you, effectively caging you in. 

You smooth your hands up his chest, admiring the soft lines by his eyes, the handsome bump of his nose. “I know. I’m the luckiest person alive.” 

“No, that’s me,” Joel whispers. 

He’s certain of it. 

- 

Thank you so much for reading. I’d love to hear your thoughts, it’s my favorite thing.

[faebled-stories]

Symphony of Release

Kinkvember Day 27: Sex Dungeon

NingNing (Ning Yizhuo) Giselle (Uchinaga Aeri) Aespa X Male reader

25.1k words

AN: I know I keep saying, "This fic is my longest yet," but this time, I really mean it😅. This one is officially my longest, and my brain feels like total mush after putting it all together. There’s no way I’m writing this much in one day again. I know this is later than my normal post time but I hope you guys understand💖

It was nearing midnight when Minjeong stumbled through the front door of the apartment. The soft click of the lock echoed through the quiet room, startling Karina from where she sat curled on the couch. A tub of ice cream balanced precariously on her knees, its smooth surface beginning to melt around the edges. Giselle, cross-legged on the floor amid a sea of folded laundry, glanced up sharply, her hands pausing mid-motion as she folded a pair of socks. Across the room, Ningning stirred from the cocoon of her blanket on the recliner, her hand hovering over the remote as she paused the neon-lit drama flashing across the TV. One by one, their gazes shifted to Minjeong.

Minjeong froze, her silhouette framed by the faint glow of the hallway light. Her hair was a mess, clinging in damp strands to her flushed forehead, and her cheeks burned with the deep pink of exertion—or something else entirely. She had clearly tried to pull herself together: her oversized sweater was hastily tugged on, the hem uneven and bunched at her side, while her face shone with the telltale dampness of a rushed wash. And yet, beneath the soap-and-water effort, an unmistakable, musky undertone lingered in the air, faint but inescapable. It clung to her skin like a whisper of the night she was trying to forget—or avoid acknowledging.

Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the strap of her bag, frozen like a deer caught in headlights under their collective stares.

“Um… hey,” she croaked, her voice cracking awkwardly. “I didn’t think you’d all still be… awake.”

Karina arched an eyebrow, her lips curling around the spoon in her hand with theatrical slowness. She withdrew it with a soft click, letting the ice cream linger on her tongue before speaking. “That’s all you’ve got? You look like you got caught in a windstorm… and something else.” She sniffed the air, her expression twisting with amused disbelief. “Oh my God. Are you serious right now?”

Minjeong’s face turned scarlet, her eyes darting anywhere but at her roommates. The silence grew louder, the ticking of the wall clock amplifying her discomfort. She took a small step toward her bedroom, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the polished floorboards.

“I’m just… really tired. Long night,” she mumbled, clutching her bag like a shield.

“Uh-uh. No way,” Giselle interjected, rising to her feet in a single, fluid motion. She crossed her arms, her stance firm and unyielding as she fixed Minjeong with a sharp look. “We’re not letting this one slide. What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been sneaking out every other night, coming home late, and looking like… this.”

“Like what?” Minjeong snapped, her voice a touch too defensive to sell the indifference she was aiming for.

“Like someone who’s been thoroughly…” Ningning hesitated, her cheeks blooming pink as she struggled to find the words. “…Thoroughly.”

Karina exploded into laughter, doubling over as she nearly sent the tub of ice cream tumbling onto the floor. “Oh my God, Ning. Just say it! She looks like someone who got wrecked.”

“Stop!” Minjeong practically squeaked, her panic sharpening the edges of her voice. “It’s not—it’s not what you think.”

Karina leaned forward, her grin widening like a cat that had cornered its prey. “Oh, it’s exactly what I think. So, who is it? Secret boyfriend? Hookup? Don’t be shy. Spill!”

“It’s no one!” Minjeong blurted, clutching her bag tighter as if it could somehow ward off the interrogation. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Then where are you going?” Giselle asked, her skepticism practically vibrating in the air. “Because whatever you’re doing, you smell like…” She wrinkled her nose dramatically. “…like you’ve been doing something.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Minjeong muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she edged closer to her bedroom door. “It’s just… personal.”

Karina tilted her head, her playful grin taking on an edge of genuine curiosity. “Personal? Okay, now I really want to know. You can’t just say that and expect us to drop it.”

Ningning shifted under her blanket, her eyes darting between her friends. “I mean… we’re all thinking about it, right? Where she’d been going, coming back like this?”

Minjeong groaned, the sound low and drawn out, her head dropping slightly as if surrendering to an invisible weight. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” they chorused, their voices a mix of teasing and determination.

She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping under the weight of the inevitable. “Fine,” she muttered, her tone a mix of exasperation and resignation. “There’s this… place I’ve been going to.”

Karina leaned forward, her curiosity evident as she tilted her head. “What kind of place?”

Minjeong hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she finally replied. “It’s hard to explain. It doesn’t really have a name. It’s just… a space where people can explore things.”

“What kind of ‘things’?” Giselle asked, narrowing her eyes as suspicion flickered in her expression.

Minjeong’s cheeks flamed, her voice rushing out before she could stop herself. “Intimacy. It’s private. Safe. They have different rooms where you can try things, or watch, or… whatever.”

The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. Only the faint hum of the paused TV broke the stillness.

“So… like a sex club?” Ningning finally asked, her tone carrying equal parts shock and intrigue.

“It’s not a club,” Minjeong snapped, defensive as her eyes darted between them. “It’s professional. It’s about curiosity and connection. It’s not some sketchy hookup scene.”

Karina raised an eyebrow, her tone thoughtful rather than critical. “How do you even know about this place?”

Minjeong sighed, brushing her damp bangs back from her forehead. “Yunjin told me about it. It’s run by the same people who own that other place—you know, the one with the glory hole.”

Ningning’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide as she stared at Minjeong. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you serious? That place Yunjin described? With the creepy wooden wall and the literal hole?”

“It’s not creepy!” Minjeong snapped, rolling her eyes. “It’s supposed to be like that—it’s the vibe. They keep it simple because it adds to the ambience or whatever.”

Karina nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Like, the mystery of it, right? That kind of makes sense.”

“Exactly,” Minjeong said, relieved at Karina’s understanding. “But this place is nothing like that. It’s completely different. It’s modern, sleek, and everything is super private and professional. It’s all about creating a safe space for people to explore.”

Giselle tilted her head, her skepticism softening slightly. “So, it’s more like… a curated experience?”

Minjeong nodded. “Yes, exactly. It’s not shady or anything. It’s designed for people who are curious and want to try new things in a safe way.”

Karina grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Honestly, that sounds kind of amazing. I can see why you’ve been sneaking out.”

“Thank you,” Minjeong muttered, her tone softening as she shot Karina a small look of gratitude. “At least someone gets it.”

Ningning still looked flustered, her face partially hidden in her hands. “I just… I can’t believe this is a thing. Like, you’re just casually going to places like this?”

Minjeong crossed her arms, her voice sharp with exasperation. “Yes, because it’s not some back-alley setup, okay? It’s intentional, it’s safe, and it’s… honestly kind of amazing.”

Karina smirked, giving Ningning a pointed look. “You’re acting like you don’t swipe right on every guy with a dog in his profile. At least Minjeong knows what she’s walking into.”

“Hey!” Ningning shot back, her face red as Karina and Giselle burst into laughter.

Minjeong sighed dramatically, heading toward her room. “I’m going to shower. Can we talk about literally anything else when I get back?”

Karina leaned back, her grin undiminished. “We’ll see. You know we’re going to have more questions.”

Minjeong didn’t reply, disappearing into her room and shutting the door firmly behind her. The faint sound of the shower starting echoed through the apartment, the steady stream of water the only noise in the tense stillness left behind.

The three left in the living room exchanged glances.

“I cannot believe this,” Ningning muttered, pulling her blanket tighter around herself as if warding off the thought. “She’s seriously sneaking off to places like that?”

“I don’t know,” Giselle said, her frown deepening. “It still sounds kind of sketchy. Who even runs something like that?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Karina quipped, her mischievous grin practically glowing. “Honestly, it sounds incredible. I bet she’s having the time of her life.”

“She looks like she’s been dragged through a hedge backwards,” Ningning countered, shaking her head. “That doesn’t exactly scream ‘fun’ to me.”

Karina shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe she’s just… exploring. Who knows? I, for one, think it sounds hot.”

When Minjeong finally emerged from her room, her hair damp and clinging to her cheeks in soft strands, she was dressed in a loose hoodie and sweatpants, her posture stiff with hesitation. She stopped short when she saw them still sitting there, their expressions practically crackling with anticipation. Their eyes glittered, waiting for her to speak as if the show was about to start.

“No,” she said immediately, raising a hand in protest. “I told you, I’m done talking about it.”

“Come on,” Karina said, leaning forward with an easy grin. “You can’t just drop something like that and leave us hanging. We need to know more.”

“Yeah,” Ningning added, though her tone was more cautious. “What do you even do there?”

Minjeong hesitated, her gaze falling to the floor as heat rushed to her face. Her hands balled into small fists at her sides, her discomfort obvious. “It’s… complicated,” she said softly, avoiding their eyes.

“Then explain it,” Karina said, her tone gentle but persistent.

Minjeong sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the doorframe and spoke slowly. “A while ago, I read this… book. It had a scene where the character…” She trailed off, her face turning bright red as her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “...she, um, she… squirted” she pressed her lips together, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. 

The room went silent, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. Ningning’s mouth dropped open, her disbelief written all over her face. Giselle blinked, momentarily stunned. Karina, however, looked delighted, her grin spreading wider.

“Wait,” Karina said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You’ve been sneaking off to this place because you read a book about someone squirting, and you wanted to see if it was real?”

Minjeong’s face was practically glowing, and she stared hard at the floor, as if it might offer her salvation. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” she admitted reluctantly. “It just… wouldn’t leave my mind. And then the conversation got brought up, and Yunjin told me about that place. She said it’s run by the same people as that other one she mentioned, but this one is more…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Broad. Structured.”

“Oh, come on,” Ningning said, her skepticism practically radiating off her. “There’s no way people actually do that. It’s so fake.”

Karina rolled her eyes. “It’s not a conspiracy, Ning. I’m sure it can totally happen.”

“But how?” Giselle chimed in, narrowing her eyes as if trying to unravel a mystery. “It’s not like that’s a normal thing, right? Isn’t it just exaggerated in movies and… books?”

“It’s not exaggerated,” Minjeong said quietly, though her voice lacked its usual firmness. “It’s just… uncommon.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ningning muttered, shaking her head. “I still don’t buy it.”

Karina threw up her hands in exasperation. “You guys are such skeptics! Just because you haven’t experienced it doesn’t mean it’s fake.”

Minjeong groaned, burying her face in her hands. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

The room divided like a fault line, Karina on one side, practically bouncing with excitement, and Ningning and Giselle on the other, their skeptical expressions nearly identical. The debate escalated as they volleyed arguments back and forth, the room buzzing with contrasting opinions.

“It’s science!” Karina insisted, gesturing animatedly. “Do you even hear yourselves? Of course, it’s real. Minjeong literally just said it happened.”

“Science or not, it sounds… extreme,” Ningning said doubtfully, pulling her blanket tighter. “Like something you’d read about in a clickbait article.”

“Or fanfiction,” Giselle added under her breath, earning a sharp glare from Karina.

“All I’m saying is, it’s not impossible,” Karina said firmly, throwing an arm around Minjeong’s shoulders for support. “And honestly? I think it’s pretty amazing that she had the guts to find out.”

Minjeong groaned again, shrinking lower. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“Not a chance,” Karina said, her grin unwavering. “This is the best thing I’ve heard all year.”

Karina leaned back with a sly smirk, her gaze flicking toward Minjeong. She leaned in ever so slightly, lowering her voice so the others couldn’t hear. Minjeong stiffened, her wide eyes darting to Karina as a faint blush crept up her cheeks. Karina’s playful, conspiratorial expression was enough to make Minjeong’s lips part in hesitant confusion.

Karina whispered something quietly, and Minjeong blinked, her expression shifting between embarrassment and reluctant amusement. She gave a tiny shake of her head, her lips pressing together as if to suppress a smile.

Karina sat back, triumphant, and clapped her hands together with deliberate force, snapping the others’ attention to her. “Okay,” she announced brightly, cutting through the tension. “You clearly don’t believe it, so here’s my suggestion.”

Giselle and Ningning turned to her warily, their skepticism etched in their faces. “What suggestion?” Giselle asked, her voice cautious.

Karina’s grin widened. “Why don’t you two go and find out for yourselves?”

Ningning blinked, her jaw dropping. “You’re joking.”

“I’m completely serious,” Karina said smoothly. “You keep saying it’s ridiculous, so why not settle it? Go. See what it’s actually like.”

“That’s insane,” Ningning said, her face turning red. “Why would we do that?”

“To prove a point,” Karina replied, shrugging. “Unless you’re scared.”

Ningning sputtered, clutching her blanket. “I’m not scared! I just— It’s ridiculous.”

Minjeong sighed, cutting through the argument with a calm voice. “It’s not about proving anything. The point is that it’s a safe space to explore. You don’t have to do anything. You can just… see. If it’s not for you, you leave. That’s it.”

Giselle narrowed her eyes. “So we just walk in and… magically get it?”

Minjeong shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe not. It’s not for everyone. But it’s not what you’re imagining either. It’s safer. Better.”

Ningning groaned, sinking deeper into her recliner. “This is ridiculous.”

Karina chuckled, her grin smug. “Just think about it. No pressure.”

The conversation fizzled into uneasy silence as Giselle and Ningning exchanged glances. Minjeong, feeling the weight of the room, mumbled, “I’m going to bed,” and disappeared into her room.

A while later, after Giselle and Ningning had retreated, Karina lingered before slipping into Minjeong’s room. Minjeong looked up from her bed, startled but not annoyed.

Karina grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “So? Did you actually… you know…”

Minjeong hesitated, her lips trembling before she gave the smallest, shyest nod.

Karina’s gasp was loud enough to echo off the walls. “No way! That’s insane. Was it—?”

“It was…” Minjeong trailed off, her voice barely audible. “It was intense.”

Karina clapped her hands together, looking like Christmas had come early. “You have to take me next time.”

Minjeong laughed, still red-faced, and nudged Karina toward the door. “Goodnight, Karina.”

As Karina left with a satisfied grin, Minjeong allowed herself to sink into her pillows, a small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips.

-----

In the days that followed, the weight of that night’s conversation lingered in the apartment, an unspoken tension threading through their interactions. Minjeong remained quiet about the topic, going about her routines as usual, but every now and then, Ningning and Giselle would exchange glances, the question hanging in the air between them: Are we actually going to do this?

One evening, as all of them sat in the living room, the TV playing a show none of them were paying attention to, Ningning finally broke the silence.

“So…” she began, her voice hesitant but pointed. “About what unnie said the other night.”

Karina, sprawled out on the couch with her legs draped over the armrest, smirked. “Took you long enough.”

Giselle glanced up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. “I’m still not convinced,” she said, though her tone was less dismissive than it had been. “It just sounds… I don’t know, extreme.”

“Extreme?” Karina scoffed, sitting up and swinging her legs onto the floor. “Come on. It’s not like anyone’s forcing you to jump in headfirst. You could just… see it. Dip a toe in. Or don’t.”

Ningning fidgeted with the edge of her blanket. “Minjeong made it sound pretty safe,” she said, almost to herself. “And it’s not like we have to do anything, right? Just… check it out.”

Giselle narrowed her eyes. “You’re seriously considering this?”

“Well…” Ningning hesitated, her cheeks flushing. “Aren’t you? You’ve been quiet about it all week.”

Giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “I just don’t want to end up in some weird situation. What if it’s not what we’re expecting?”

“It’s not,” Minjeong’s voice cut through the room softly. She had been lingering in the doorway, unnoticed until now. Her expression was calm but serious, her eyes darting between them. “It’s nothing like what you’re imagining. I promise.”

Karina gestured toward Minjeong with a flourish. “See? She promises. And if it’s as safe as she says, what’s the harm in a little adventure?”

“I don’t know…” Giselle trailed off, her skepticism giving way to contemplation.

“You can leave anytime,” Minjeong said, stepping farther into the room. “If you feel uncomfortable, you just walk out. No one will stop you. No one will even ask why.”

“And we don’t have to… you know…” Ningning’s voice dropped as she gestured vaguely, her face burning red.

Minjeong shook her head. “Not unless you want to. You’re in control the whole time. And it’s not some creepy scene or anything. It’s professional. Respectful. Everyone’s there for their own reasons, and no one judges anyone else.”

Karina’s grin widened as she leaned back, crossing her arms. “Sounds like a glowing endorsement to me.”

Ningning chewed on her lip, her blanket now bunched in her lap. “It’s just… such a weird thing to do.”

“Exactly,” Giselle said, though her words lacked their usual edge. “It’s weird.”

“Weird doesn’t mean bad,” Minjeong said gently. “Sometimes it just means… different. And different can be good. You might surprise yourselves.”

The room fell silent, the faint hum of the TV filling the space as they considered her words. Ningning and Giselle exchanged a look, a flicker of unspoken understanding passing between them.

“Well,” Karina said, breaking the quiet, “I think you two should do it. Who knows? It might even be fun.”

“You’re not helping,” Giselle muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Minjeong hesitated, then gave a small, reassuring smile. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But if you’re even a little curious… it’s worth a try. Just to see.”

Ningning let out a long breath, pulling the blanket tighter. “I’ll think about it.”

Giselle nodded slowly. “Me too. But I’m not making any promises.”

“Fair enough,” Minjeong said, retreating back to her room with a faint smile.

Karina watched her go, then turned back to the others with a twinkle in her eye. “You’re totally doing it.”

“Shut up,” Ningning and Giselle said in unison, but their cheeks were pink, and neither of them outright denied it.

The idea hovered between them, tantalizing and unresolved, as they returned to their show, though none of them were paying much attention to it now.

-----

Eventually their curiosity got the better of them and they agreed to go. By the time they arrived at the place, nerves had transformed into a strange cocktail of anticipation and curiosity. The building was surprisingly polished—a tall, elegant brick structure with clean lines and minimalist signage that simply read “Welcome.” Its shaded, frosted windows gave an air of privacy without secrecy, inviting rather than intimidating. It felt like a space designed to intrigue and comfort rather than overwhelm.

Inside, the lobby was nothing like the dungeon-like image Ningning and Giselle had tentatively imagined. Instead, it resembled a boutique spa. Soft ambient music hummed faintly through hidden speakers, blending seamlessly with the subtle aroma of lavender and sandalwood. The lighting was warm and diffused, casting golden hues over sleek, modern furniture and tasteful artwork that adorned the walls.

Then they met you.

You stepped forward with a calm, professional demeanor, offering a gentle smile that immediately softened their stiff postures. “Welcome,” you said, your voice smooth and soothing, perfectly complementing the tranquil ambiance. “I’m here to answer any questions you have and to make sure you feel comfortable throughout. This experience is entirely at your pace.”

Your words rippled through them, easing the tension that had coiled in their shoulders during the car ride over. They nodded in acknowledgment, their breaths steadying as they followed you deeper into the space. The hallway, lined with soft, abstract art in muted tones, felt like a threshold—not just physically but emotionally. Each step seemed to take them closer to something they couldn’t yet name, a blend of the unfamiliar and the curious.

You led them into a softly lit room where the golden light spilled like honey across the walls, painted in warm, neutral tones. The scent of polished wood mingled with faint notes of cedar, grounding the space. It felt intimate but not confining, like a carefully crafted haven. In the center of the room sat a neatly arranged set of tools and equipment, minimal and unobtrusive, designed to invite exploration rather than demand it.

Pausing, you turned back to face them, ensuring they were present and focused. “Before we go any further,” you began, your voice steady and inviting, “let’s talk about safe words.”

Ningning and Giselle both stiffened slightly, their expressions flickering with nervousness. You noticed the hesitation in their eyes and offered an encouraging smile, your demeanor gentle yet confident.

“This is about giving you total control of the experience,” you explained. “We use safe words as a way to stop or ease up if you feel uncomfortable. If you say ‘yellow,’ we’ll slow down; if you say ‘red,’ everything stops immediately. Think of it like a pause button.”

Giselle furrowed her brow, absorbing the information. “So, ‘yellow’ if we want to take a break, and ‘red’ if we want to stop completely?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.

“Exactly,” you said, meeting her gaze with calm confidence. “This is entirely your experience. At any point, you can say one word, and it stops—no questions asked.”

A visible wave of relief washed over Ningning as her shoulders dropped. She let out a small sigh, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Actually… that makes me feel a lot better. Just knowing that,” she admitted, glancing at Giselle.

Giselle gave her a faint nod in return, her posture relaxing slightly, though a trace of skepticism lingered in her eyes.

“Good,” you said, your tone soft with reassurance. “If you’re ready, we can begin.”

They exchanged a glance—a quick, silent moment of mutual reassurance—before turning back to you. Their nods were tentative but genuine, a signal of cautious readiness.

“I’ve prepared a regiment for the two of you,” you said, your voice steady and measured, watching their reactions carefully. “It’s designed to ease you into the experience, gradually introducing different sensations and emotions. However, this is flexible. I’ll be making adjustments based on your responses. This is about what feels right for you, so I’ll omit or add activities as we go.”

“Everything is planned out for us?” Ningning asked, her eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Not exactly,” you clarified with a soft smile. “I designed it with a structured flow in mind, but it’s not set in stone. Think of it as a guide, not a rulebook. We’ll adapt as needed. I’ll guide you step by step. However, there’s one recommendation: it’s best if you approach this blind.”

“Blind? Like, blindfolded?” Ningning asked, her brows knitting together in confusion.

“Not necessarily,” you explained, your tone gentle but firm. “While blindfolding is an option, what I mean is that you won’t know what’s coming next. When you let go of anticipation, it sharpens your senses and helps you focus on the moment. It lets you experience each activity more fully without preconceived notions.”

Ningning’s lips parted slightly, her expression contemplative. “So, we’d just… let it happen?”

“Exactly,” you replied, your gaze steady. “It’s about letting go of control in a safe environment. You’ll focus entirely on how you feel in the moment rather than trying to predict what’s next.”

Giselle crossed her arms, her skepticism evident. “I don’t know… that sounds a little intense.”

“It is,” Ningning said with a soft laugh, glancing at her friend. “But maybe that’s the point? I mean, if we’re doing this, we might as well do it the right way.”

Giselle hesitated, her gaze flicking between you and Ningning before exhaling heavily. “And we can stop anytime, right?”

“Absolutely,” you assured her, your voice calm and reassuring.

Ningning and Giselle exchanged a quick glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Ningning gave a tentative nod, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “I think we should try.”

Giselle rolled her eyes softly, but the corners of her mouth betrayed a small, curious smile. “Fine. But if this gets weird, I’m out.”

“Fair enough,” you said with a warm smile, gesturing toward the center of the room, where everything had been carefully prepared for their arrival.

With practiced ease, you guided them into the softly lit room, the golden glow casting a warm, intimate light across the space. The earlier atmosphere of calm reassurance shifted as you closed the door behind them with a soft click. When you turned back, your entire demeanor had transformed—your expression now steady and commanding, your movements precise and deliberate. The quiet authority you carried filled the room, grounding them in the gravity of what was to come.

“Strip,” you instructed, your tone calm but unyielding, leaving no room for hesitation. “Everything but your panties.”

They froze for a moment, the weight of the command sinking in. Their gazes flicked to you, a sudden jolt of arousal coursing through them as they took in this new, commanding side of you. It was unexpected—this transformation in your demeanor—and it sent a shiver of anticipation down their spines.

Exchanging a brief glance, they seemed to silently agree on their next steps. Ningning’s fingers trembled slightly as she grasped the hem of her shirt, carefully sliding it off her shoulders. Her bra followed, the clasp unhooking with slow, deliberate movements as she revealed her flushed skin. Giselle followed suit, unbuttoning her blouse with steady hands before stepping out of her jeans in a single, fluid motion. Both of their breathing grew shallow, the cool air brushing against their heated skin.

They folded their garments neatly, setting them aside in a small pile, the rustling of fabric the only sound punctuating the charged silence of the room. Their movements were measured, deliberate, as though they were hyper-aware of your presence. Left in only their panties, the vulnerability of the moment wrapped around them like a second skin.

You observed them closely, your steady gaze unwavering, assessing their compliance with quiet intensity. A faint nod of approval softened the edges of your commanding presence. “Good,” you said simply, your tone neutral but firm. “Now, hands forward.”

Their hands rose instinctively, the slight tremor in Ningning’s fingers betraying her nerves. You stepped forward with measured precision, your every motion exuding calm confidence. Picking up a coil of soft, supple rope from the nearby table, you moved toward Ningning first.

You took her wrists gently in your hands, the warmth of your fingers steadying her as you began to work. Your movements were fluid and practiced, each loop of the rope snug but never tight. The fabric pressed softly against her skin, securing her without discomfort. The quiet rustling of the rope as it glided through your hands filled the space, mingling with the faint rhythm of her breathing.

Once finished, you turned to Giselle. She extended her hands wordlessly, her gaze flicking briefly to Ningning before returning to you. You repeated the process, wrapping the rope around her wrists with the same precision, the material gliding smoothly as you worked. Her posture remained composed, though the faintest flush of color crept up her neck as the knots settled into place.

Their hands now rested just above their heads, supported by the ropes. Their feet stayed grounded, but the gentle tension in their arms introduced a faint stretch that felt unfamiliar yet oddly empowering. They exchanged a quick glance, their shared curiosity reflected in the subtle flicker of their expressions.

The sensation of the ropes—their softness, their firm yet yielding hold—seemed to heighten everything around them. The golden light wrapped the room in warmth, while the rhythmic creak of the ropes created a cocoon of quiet intimacy. What had once been a heavy sense of anticipation now felt lighter, suspended in a moment of carefully crafted care.

“Good girls,” you said softly, your voice carrying a subtle warmth beneath its grounded authority. Moving deliberately, you adjusted the ropes, your presence steady and unwavering. The care in your actions was unmistakable, but so was the quiet dominance that now defined your movements. You exuded control—not forceful, but unshakable—creating a dynamic that made them feel held and guided.

With a faint smile, you stepped back to let them adjust to the position. “Let’s start with something simple,” you said, your voice low but firm, with just enough softness to ease their remaining nerves. You turned toward a nearby table, retrieving a soft flogger, its supple material catching the golden light as you lifted it.

The rhythmic sound of your footsteps across the floor filled the space, a quiet punctuation to the moment. Ningning took a deep breath, her senses finely tuned to the subtle movements around her. Her gaze followed you with a mix of curiosity and anticipation, while Giselle briefly closed her eyes, grounding herself in the present and letting her focus shift to her body’s awareness.

“Ready?” you asked, your voice steady and unyielding, carrying no pressure but a quiet expectation.

They nodded, their breathing steadier now, though their bodies remained taut with anticipation. You stepped closer to Ningning first, letting the soft flogger trail lightly over her bare shoulder. The faint whisper of its strands brushing against her skin sent a shiver coursing down her spine, heightening her awareness of every inch of her body. Her chest rose and fell with measured breaths, her senses narrowing to the point of contact.

Then came the first light tap. The strands of the flogger landed on her upper back with a delicate precision, the sting blooming across her skin in a wave of warmth. Ningning inhaled sharply, the unexpected sensation startling her at first, her lips parting as her eyes widened. The sting faded quickly, leaving behind a faint, tingling heat that lingered, coaxing her body into a heightened state of sensitivity.

As the rhythm of the strokes continued, deliberate and evenly spaced, her initial tension began to dissolve. Each strike brought a sharper awareness, a paradoxical mixture of control and surrender that her mind couldn’t quite process but her body responded to instinctively. The faint pull of the ropes binding her wrists heightened the sensation, keeping her grounded as her thoughts gave way to raw feeling. Her breathing deepened, the warmth in her skin now merging with an unfamiliar but undeniable arousal. The sting that had surprised her at first now contributed to a growing ache of need, as though her body was awakening to a language it had never spoken before.

Gradually, the intensity increased. The strokes came harder, the flogger landing with more force, pushing her just a little further with each hit. Ningning’s moans deepened, her body reacting to the pain in ways that surprised even her. The sting turned into a fiery pulse, dancing across her skin in a way that threatened to overwhelm her but never quite crossed the line. Her head tilted back, her lips parting to release a soft whimper that mixed pain and pleasure into a single, intoxicating sound. The ache lingered longer now, the heat radiating from her back blending with the throbbing arousal pooling low in her body.

You moved with deliberate care, watching for any flicker of discomfort in her expression. But Ningning’s soft exhales, the subtle arch of her back, and the way her hips shifted told you she was riding the edge of the sensation, her body adapting as she yielded to the rhythm of the flogger.

Satisfied, you turned to Giselle, allowing the flogger’s supple strands to brush teasingly across her skin. The faint touch made her flinch slightly, a gasp escaping her lips as her body stiffened reflexively. You delivered the first light stroke to her back, the flogger landing with a muted crack. The sting rippled through her, sharp and immediate, forcing her breath to hitch. For a moment, her body froze, her mind processing the unfamiliar sensation.

But as the heat spread, the sharpness softened into something richer, more profound—a warmth that coursed through her muscles and heightened her awareness of her own body. Her breaths began to slow, her posture shifting as she allowed herself to accept the rhythm. Each subsequent stroke seemed to draw her deeper into the moment, her mind quieting as the sensation became less foreign and more intoxicating. The feeling of being bound, her wrists held securely above her head, amplified her surrender. The ropes didn’t restrain her—they anchored her, giving her the freedom to let go.

The strokes on Giselle intensified gradually as well, the flogger landing with increasing force. Her body jerked with each hit, the sharp sting leaving behind a trail of tingling heat that both burned and soothed. The line between too much and just enough blurred, her body trembling as the sensations layered atop each other. A flush crept up her neck, her chest heaving as she adjusted to the rhythm. Each strike sent a pulse of arousal coursing through her, the pain tipping into pleasure with a sweet inevitability.

The pain built steadily, each strike pushing them closer to their limits without crossing the threshold. It hovered at the brink, testing their endurance while drawing out their arousal. Ningning’s soft moans became more urgent, her body shivering as she leaned into the rhythm, her mind overwhelmed but unwilling to stop. Giselle’s breathing hitched with every strike, her head falling forward as she let out a series of trembling gasps, her body fighting the tension that teetered on the edge of overwhelming.

When you finally stepped back, both women were trembling. Their flushed skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, and their breathing synced in shallow, uneven gasps. The throbbing ache in their backs mirrored the pulsing arousal coursing through their bodies. Their eyes met, wide and glassy, the pain and pleasure written in their expressions—a silent acknowledgment that this was unlike anything they had imagined. It was raw, immersive, and undeniably arousing.

“You’re doing well,” you said softly, your tone carrying a note of approval that resonated in the quiet space. Their gazes shifted back to you, their expressions now open, filled with curiosity and something deeper, more vulnerable.

You paused, giving them time to absorb the sensations fully before speaking again. “Alright,” you said, your voice calm and measured, “I’m going to add another element.”

Ningning and Giselle both nodded, their interest fully captured now. Their cheeks were still flushed from the sensations they’d already experienced, their breaths shallow as they prepared for what was next. The soft sound of the ropes faintly creaking above them served as a quiet reminder of their bound state, amplifying their awareness of every movement.

From your collection, you retrieved a pair of intricately designed clamps, their polished metal gleaming in the light. They were delicate but purposeful, adjustable to provide just enough pressure to transform ordinary touch into something extraordinary. You held the clamps with quiet authority, their intricate design a contrast to the intensity they promised.

Starting with Ningning, you reached forward, your fingers grazing the curve of her breast with deliberate slowness. Her breath hitched as your touch lingered, her skin hypersensitive under your hand. With practiced ease, you secured the first clamp to her nipple. The initial sensation was sharp, a sudden sting that drew a gasp from her parted lips. “Ahh…” Her back arched slightly, the pull of the rope above her making the reaction even more pronounced.

The sting lingered, a constant ache that quickly shifted into a hum of sensation, heightening her awareness of her body. A soft moan escaped her as you secured the second clamp, the dual points of pressure creating a symphony of sensations. The ache was persistent, demanding her focus, but the way it blended with the warmth of arousal in her core made her chest rise and fall with quickened breaths. Beneath her, the heat of her excitement began to bloom, the dampness at the apex of her thighs growing as her body responded.

You turned to Giselle, your hands just as steady and deliberate. Her eyes fluttered closed as your fingers ghosted over her skin, teasing her sensitive flesh before carefully placing the first clamp. “Mmm…” she moaned softly, her body stiffening momentarily at the sting as the metal gripped her. A low, trembling exhale followed as the sensation settled, morphing from sharpness into a dull, throbbing ache that sent warmth radiating outward. The second clamp followed with equal care, eliciting a soft, shaky moan from her lips. “Oh…” Giselle’s breathing deepened, her chest rising as she adjusted to the rhythmic pulse of sensation.

Bound above, their hands unable to lower, both Ningning and Giselle were acutely aware of every shift and movement. The clamps weren’t merely a source of sensation; they were a constant presence, a persistent reminder of their vulnerability. And yet, that vulnerability seemed to amplify their arousal, each breath bringing them closer to surrendering fully to the moment.

you retrieved two floggers, their supple strands swaying lightly as you held them in each hand. The leather glinted faintly in the light, promising a mix of sensation that would push them further. Their eyes flickered to the tools, their bodies tensing in anticipation as you stepped closer.

You began with Ningning and Giselle simultaneously, the strands of the floggers trailing across their skin in teasing strokes. The featherlight contact danced along their shoulders, arms, and backs, coaxing shivers that made their breath hitch. The anticipation of the impact alone sent a thrill through them, their muscles tightening instinctively.

The first strikes landed, one on each of them, perfectly timed. The strands of the floggers kissed their skin with a satisfying crack, sending ripples of sensation through their bodies. Ningning gasped sharply, her hips jerking slightly against the tension of the ropes. Giselle let out a soft cry, her body stiffening momentarily before yielding to the sting. The impact wasn’t overwhelming—just enough to awaken their senses and pull them into the moment.

You continued, your movements measured and deliberate as the floggers alternated between soft trails and precise strikes. The synchronized rhythm created a symphony of sensation that reverberated through their bodies. Each strike was perfectly timed to ensure neither was left waiting too long, the alternating snaps of leather keeping their senses sharp and their arousal building.

Ningning’s head tilted back, her lips parting as the flogger’s strands brushed over the curve of her lower back, followed by a precise strike just beneath her shoulder blades. The sting blended with a spreading warmth, her breathing growing shallower as the sensations layered. Each strike heightened the ache in her chest, the clamps on her nipples pulling slightly with every flinch, amplifying the experience. “Oh… oh…” she whimpered, her voice trembling as the sensations pushed her closer to her limits.

Giselle, on the other hand, squirmed against the bonds, her moans low and breathy as the flogger struck her thighs with a sharp crack. The impact sent a shiver up her spine, the ache settling into a dull throb that pulsed through her sensitive skin. Her nipples, adorned with the clamps, tugged faintly with every motion, the combination of pain and arousal sending her reeling. “Ahh…” she gasped, her hips shifting as her body sought release from the growing tension.

Switching to a synchronized rhythm, you struck their thighs in tandem, the floggers landing with a sharp snap that made them cry out simultaneously. The matching reactions sent a thrill through the room, their voices blending in a harmony of raw sensation. The sight of them together, bound and trembling, with the faint sheen of sweat glistening on their skin, was mesmerizing.

The strikes grew slightly firmer, the intensity increasing as you alternated between their backs, shoulders, and thighs. Each impact pulled a deeper reaction from them, their cries becoming louder, their bodies arching against the ropes as the pain crept closer to the brink of too much—but never crossing the line. Their flushed cheeks and trembling thighs betrayed the arousal simmering beneath the surface, the pain merging seamlessly with pleasure.

“Breathe,” you instructed, your voice steady and grounding. The reminder was enough to steady their erratic breaths, their chests rising and falling as they adjusted to the rhythm. The floggers snapped against their skin again, and this time, Ningning’s hips bucked involuntarily, a soft moan spilling from her lips as her arousal became undeniable. The dampness soaking her panties left no question of her response, the heat pooling at her core almost unbearable.

Giselle, too, was unraveling under the dual sensations. Her body trembled with every strike, her breaths shallow and uneven as the clamps tugged with each movement. “Please…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, the word dripping with need. Her thighs quivered, the evidence of her arousal glistening faintly between her legs.

The room was alive with the sounds of their moans, the rhythmic crack of the floggers, and the faint creak of the ropes above them. The atmosphere was charged, every sound and motion amplifying the intimacy of the moment. Their bodies were painted with faint red marks from the floggers, the lingering sting merging with the ache of the clamps to push them further into surrender.

You paused briefly, letting the floggers rest against your sides as you stepped closer. Your hands brushed over their trembling forms, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the intensity of the flogging. “You’re both incredible,” you murmured, your voice soft but commanding.

Positioned between them, your hands moved with deliberate care, teasing the soft line where their thighs met their centers. The proximity alone sent shivers through their bodies, the charged tension in the air palpable. Ningning’s hips shifted instinctively, a soft, breathy moan escaping her lips as your fingers hovered maddeningly close to her entrance. The barest brush of your touch against her slick panties drew a sharp gasp, her body arching as though every nerve had been primed for this moment. “Please…” she whispered, her voice trembling with need, the dampness soaking through the fabric leaving no question of her arousal.

On Giselle’s side, your fingers mirrored the same featherlight touch, barely skimming the delicate skin beneath the damp fabric at her core. Her breath hitched audibly, her bound wrists tugging gently at the ropes as if seeking some anchor amidst the overwhelming sensations. “Mmm… oh…” she moaned, her thighs trembling as her body leaned subtly toward you, desperate for more contact. The clamps adorning her nipples heightened every subtle motion, the tug of the chain combining pain and pleasure in a way that made her hips press eagerly against your teasing fingers.

You alternated between them with meticulous precision, your touch gentle yet deliberate. A teasing stroke here, a fleeting graze there—just enough to push them closer to the edge without offering the satisfaction their bodies so clearly craved. Ningning’s moans grew louder, her hips lifting in small, involuntary movements as if drawn by invisible strings. Her core glistened beneath the thin layer of her panties, soaking through the delicate fabric, the evidence of her surrender shining in the golden light. “Ahh… I can’t…” she gasped, her voice shaking, the ache in her body now unbearable yet exquisite.

Giselle was lost in the rhythm of your touch, her thighs quivering as her moans softened into low, fervent whispers. “Mmm… please,” she murmured, her lips parting as she gave in completely. Her body rocked subtly, her movements bolder with each stroke, while the clamps on her nipples pulsed in time with the ache radiating through her. Her voice, breathy and trembling, added to the tension that thickened the air. “More…”

Between them, you worked like a conductor orchestrating a symphony, their bodies the instruments responding perfectly to your touch. The wet sounds of their arousal, the quiet clink of the chain between the clamps, and the soft moans that spilled from their lips blended into a harmony of pleasure and need. Every shift of your fingers and every intentional pause amplified their yearning, drawing them closer to the precipice with every touch.”

Ningning’s response was a choked moan, her body trembling as her slickness overflowed, soaking the thin fabric of her panties until it clung to her. Giselle whimpered in unison, her thighs trembling as her own need reached a fever pitch. Their breaths became erratic, their gazes hazy and unfocused, their arousal undeniable as they teetered on the edge of release.

Just as the crescendo seemed inevitable, you slowed your movements, teasingly lightening your touch until your fingers hovered maddeningly close to their centers without fully making contact. Ningning let out a desperate whimper, her hips lifting instinctively toward your touch, only for you to withdraw entirely. “Ahh… please,” she moaned, her voice trembling with need.

Giselle echoed her plea, her lips parting as a low, drawn-out whine spilled from her throat. “Don’t stop… please,” she murmured, her voice thick with desperation as her thighs quivered against the restraint of her own arousal.

With a small, deliberate pause, you slipped your fingers to their soaked panties, pressing lightly against the fabric to collect the wetness that pooled there. Both of them gasped, the sudden pressure sending a jolt of sensation through their bodies. “You’re dripping,” you said softly, your voice a mixture of approval and tease.

Holding your fingers up to Ningning first, you pressed them lightly to her lips. “Taste yourself,” you commanded gently. Her eyes widened slightly, her breath catching, but she obeyed, her lips parting to take your fingers into her mouth. Her tongue flicked against them tentatively at first, her eyes fluttering shut as the intimate taste of her own arousal spread across her palate. A soft moan escaped her throat as she sucked lightly, her cheeks flushing deeper.

Turning to Giselle, you offered her the same. “Your turn.” Without hesitation, her lips wrapped around your fingers, her tongue tracing deliberately against them as her moan resonated low and deep, her lashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks. The shared intimacy of tasting themselves lingered in the air, their gazes flicking to each other, a mirrored hunger reflected in their expressions.

Their breathing grew shallow as you moved behind them, the tension in the room thickening. Their bound hands, secured above their heads, stretched their bodies taut, their exposed curves highlighted by the glow of the golden light. The vulnerability of their position sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through them, their soaked panties clinging to their flushed, sensitive skin.

You placed a hand on Ningning’s lower back, the heat of her skin radiating against your palm. “Good girl,” you murmured softly before raising your hand and delivering a sharp smack to her ass. The sound echoed through the room, her gasp sharp and startled as her body jolted forward. The sting lingered, blooming into a warmth that sent a shudder through her.

Without hesitation, you turned to Giselle, delivering the same measured strike to her. Her response was different—lower, more guttural—as her bound wrists shifted slightly, and her legs trembled beneath her. “Mmm…” she moaned, her voice thick with a mixture of pain and pleasure.

You alternated between them, your strikes deliberate, each impact eliciting a sharp gasp or moan. Their backs arched further with each touch, their bodies instinctively lifting to meet your hand. The heat radiating from their reddened skin blended seamlessly with the growing slickness soaking through their panties.

Once their breathing became ragged and their moans deepened, you let your hands drift lower, teasing the edges of the damp fabric covering their centers. Both women froze for a moment, their bodies trembling in anticipation as you pressed lightly against the soaked cloth. The heat from their folds was undeniable, and your teasing touch only heightened their arousal.

With a swift, deliberate motion, you brought your palm up against Ningning’s throbbing area, the spank sharp even through the damp barrier of her panties. She cried out instantly, her voice raw and breathless. “Ahhh—oh!” Her hips bucked forward, her thighs trembling as the mix of sting and pleasure shot through her body.

Giselle barely had time to react before your other hand landed on hers in a similar motion. Her moan was deeper, her legs quaking as she pressed her hips against the table. “Mmm… oh my God!” she gasped, the vibration of her voice carrying through the room.

Sliding your hands under their thighs, you brought your palms up, the strikes landing directly on their folds. Their voices rose in unison, desperate and raw. “Please…” Ningning whimpered, her body quaking as another spank drew a muffled scream. Giselle’s voice followed, her cries breathless and broken as she teetered on the edge of release.

“You feel it, don’t you?” you murmured, your voice low and commanding, leaning close enough for your breath to tickle their ears. “The way your bodies crave this, the way you’ve surrendered completely.”

They nodded helplessly, their voices lost in the symphony of gasps and moans that filled the room. The smell of their arousal mingled with the warmth radiating from their skin, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. Their panties clung to their slick folds, glistening in the light as their trembling bodies sought release. Every strike sent ripples of sensation through them, pushing them closer and closer to the precipice, their cries growing louder and more desperate with each passing second.

Suddenly, you untied the ropes that bound their hands above their heads, granting them a fleeting moment of respite. Their arms fell limply, their muscles trembling from the strain and the lingering arousal coursing through them. They flexed their fingers instinctively, a faint tingling running through their limbs as they adjusted to the sudden freedom.

“Take off your panties,” you commanded, your voice calm but firm, cutting through the haze of the moment. “And give them to me.”

The instruction left no room for hesitation. Ningning’s trembling hands moved first, hooking her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and sliding them down her thighs. The damp fabric clung slightly before coming free, revealing her reddened lips. Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade as she held the soaked garment in her hand, the wetness undeniable against her skin.

Giselle mirrored her, peeling the damp fabric from her heated core with slow, deliberate movements. The cool air brushing against her sensitive skin made her inhale sharply, her eyes flicking briefly to Ningning before focusing on you. She held her panties between her fingers, feeling the slick weight of her arousal before hesitantly extending them toward you.

You accepted them with steady hands, your expression unreadable but commanding. “Feel them,” you instructed, holding the garments back toward them briefly. “Understand just how deeply your bodies have responded.”

Ningning’s fingers brushed over the damp fabric, her eyes widening slightly as she pressed her lips together, trying to contain her reaction. “Oh my god…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her cheeks glowing as she comprehended just how soaked they were.

Giselle’s response was quieter, her thumb grazing the wetness as a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. “That’s… a lot,” she murmured, her breath hitching as the realization settled over her.

The moment was fleeting. Without a word, you folded their panties neatly, the damp fabric a testament to their arousal. With deliberate care, you slid them into your pockets, before stepping forward, your presence grounding them as their breathing quickened.

“Hands behind your backs,” you said, your voice smooth and unyielding, and they obeyed immediately. Their arms moved into position, trembling slightly as you secured their wrists once more with soft, silken ropes. Each loop was precise, snug without being harsh, holding them firmly yet comfortably.

“I want you both to sit tight for a moment. I’ll be right back,” you instructed, your tone firm yet reassuring. With a nod, you turned and left the room, your quiet footsteps fading into the adjacent chamber.

Left to their own devices, Ningning and Giselle’s minds raced with curiosity, their bodies still alight with the sensations you’d left them to process. Giselle, her chest still heaving, turned toward Ningning with a faint, knowing smile. “That was… so good,” she whispered, her voice tinged with excited apprehension.

Ningning let out a breathy laugh, her cheeks glowing as she leaned slightly forward. “I can’t believe how wet I am right now,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, tinged with awe and vulnerability. A shiver ran through her as she shifted slightly, the slickness between her thighs a constant reminder of her arousal.

Before Giselle could respond, the sound of your footsteps returning drew their attention. You stepped back into the room, your presence commanding yet calm, your arms cradling two sleek, identical machines that hummed faintly with potential. The golden light of the room glinted off their polished surfaces, casting a warm glow that seemed to heighten the anticipation.

Giselle’s eyes widened in recognition as her gaze fell on the devices—two Sybians, infamous for their unrelenting intensity. Though she had never personally experienced one, the stories she’d heard were enough to send a shiver down her spine, her breath catching in her throat. Beside her, Ningning regarded the machines with a blend of curiosity and confusion, her innocence apparent in the whispered query, “Wait… what are those?”

Leaning closer, Giselle whispered, her voice tinged with both apprehension and excitement, “They’re… well, let’s just say they’re intense.”

You positioned the Sybians carefully, facing each other, the low hum of their engines vibrating faintly in the quiet room. The promise of what lay ahead hung thick in the air, a heady mix of arousal and nervous anticipation. Your movements were deliberate, almost ceremonial, as you arranged the scene, ensuring every detail was perfect. Ningning and Giselle watched, their bound hands resting behind them, their breathing shallow as they tried to steady themselves for what was to come.

With meticulous care, you guided them toward the Sybians, their knees trembling slightly as they straddled the velvety surface of the devices. The upholstery was soft against their thighs, a tactile contrast to the power that lay just beneath the surface. The slight height of the machines forced them into a position that was equal parts vulnerable and intimate, their bodies cradled by the contours designed to meet their most sensitive areas.

As they settled into place, the machines hummed to life, their low vibrations spreading through the room. Ningning gasped softly as the first subtle tremor reached her, her hips shifting instinctively in response. The sensation was like a gentle pulse, resonating deep within her core and coaxing her body into heightened awareness. Her lips parted as a soft, breathy moan escaped her. “Oh…” The sound carried a note of surprise, her innocence melting into tentative exploration.

Giselle, more prepared for the experience, exhaled a slow, shaky breath as the low purr of the Sybian spread through her. The vibration was pervasive, sinking into her muscles and radiating outward, like a wave of warmth that seemed to unwind her body from the inside out. Her head tilted back slightly, her bound wrists pulling faintly against the ropes as she surrendered to the initial sensations. “God…” she murmured, her voice low and tinged with both awe and arousal.

The machines were still on their lowest setting, their vibrations soft but insistent, like a whisper coaxing their bodies to respond. The hum resonated through their folds, teasing their most sensitive nerves without overwhelming them. It was a careful prelude, a tender invitation to let go. Ningning’s hips began to shift involuntarily, seeking more pressure, the dampness between her thighs betraying how deeply her body was responding. “It’s… so much,” she whispered, her voice trembling with both nerves and arousal.

You watched closely, your eyes flicking between Ningning and Giselle, gauging their reactions. Their breaths were shallow, their bodies quivering with the lingering intensity of the Sybians’ vibrations. It was clear they were teetering on the edge, their flushed cheeks and parted lips betraying their heightened states of arousal. Satisfied that they were ready for the next step, you moved with deliberate precision, reaching for the chain that would transform their experience into something even more profound.

With a smooth motion, you adjusted the clamps already adorning their sensitive nipples, the faint creak of the metal audible in the quiet room. Ningning whimpered softly at the renewed pressure, her body tensing briefly before relaxing into the sensation. Giselle’s lips parted in a shaky exhale, her chest rising and falling as she adjusted to the small adjustment.

Then, with deliberate care, you connected the clamps—first attaching Ningning’s right nipple to Giselle’s left, and then repeating the action on the opposite side. The fine silver chain between them gleamed under the warm light, a delicate but unmistakable bridge that tethered their bodies and sensations together. The effect was immediate and electric. The slightest movement from one caused the chain to tug on the other, creating a feedback loop of stimulation that neither could escape.

Ningning gasped as the chain shifted with Giselle’s movement, the pull on her nipple sending a fresh wave of sensation rippling through her. “Ahh…” she moaned softly, her hips trembling against the Sybian beneath her. The cool metal of the chain warmed quickly against their flushed skin, its presence a constant, tangible reminder of their connection.

Giselle inhaled sharply as the chain tugged her in response, her own gasp echoing Ningning’s. The clamps’ unyielding grip amplified every shudder and twitch, their sensitive peaks now bound in a dance of give and take. “Oh… god…” she murmured, her voice low and breathy, her body swaying slightly as the sensations intertwined.

“Now, the only rule here is to sit still,” you commanded softly, your voice steady yet firm. The authority in your tone sent a shiver through them, grounding them even as their bodies threatened to spiral into the overwhelming sensations. “If you move too much, you’ll only make it more intense for each other.”

The Sybians hummed beneath them, their vibrations deepening as you turned the controls slightly. The shift was subtle at first, a gentle increase that teased their already overstimulated bodies. Ningning let out a broken moan, her thighs clenching instinctively against the velvety surface of the device. The vibrations seemed to seep into her very core, spreading like wildfire through her body. “Oh my god…” she gasped, her voice trembling as the sensations climbed higher.

Giselle’s reaction was no less immediate. Her lips parted in a low, guttural moan, her bound hands pulling slightly against the ropes as the Sybian’s pulsations grew more insistent. Each small movement from Ningning sent the chain between them tugging at her clamps, adding a sharp, delicious edge to the vibrations that rippled through her body. “Mmm… it’s so much,” she managed to whisper, her voice thick with need.

The clamps acted as a bridge between them, magnifying every tremor and shudder. A twitch from one sent a wave of sensation to the other, binding them in an intimate, inescapable loop of shared pleasure. Ningning’s moans grew louder as she struggled to keep still, the vibrations and the relentless pull of the chain driving her closer to the edge. “Ahh… I can’t… it’s too much…” she whimpered, her voice a mix of desperation and exhilaration.

Giselle, no longer able to hold back, let out a trembling cry as the chain tugged at her again, her body arching against the device. “Oh… oh god… please…” she gasped, the rhythmic pulsations of the Sybian combining with the clamps’ steady pressure to push her closer to surrender.

Ningning’s breath hitched, her chest rising and falling as her body quivered beneath the mounting waves of pleasure. The air around her was thick, carrying the faint, musky scent of arousal mingled with the warmth of their shared exertion. Her thighs trembled against the velvety surface of the Sybian, the vibrations resonating deep within her, coaxing her closer to the edge with every relentless pulse. The clamps connecting her to Giselle tugged lightly with each subtle movement, a sharp yet tantalizing sting that tethered her pleasure to her partner’s.

Her breaths turned ragged, a series of shallow gasps punctuated by moans that grew louder as her climax approached. The sting of the clamps, now warmed by her flushed skin, was a constant reminder of her vulnerability and connection. Each breath carried a faint sweetness, the room’s ambient scent laced with the unmistakable notes of sweat and arousal that hung heavily in the air. It was intoxicating, enveloping her senses as she surrendered to the rising tide of sensation.

Giselle, seated opposite her, was equally enraptured. She watched Ningning with wide, glassy eyes, her own body responding to every tremor that traveled through the chain between them. The faint jingle of the silver links with every motion sent shocks of stimulation to her oversensitive peaks. The sight of Ningning on the brink—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her moans rising in pitch—only pushed Giselle closer to her own edge. The sharp, metallic tang of the clamps against her skin mixed with the faint musk in the air, creating a sensory symphony that heightened the intimacy of their shared experience.

Ningning’s body tensed, her muscles tightening as the vibrations reached a crescendo, the pleasure building to a point where she could no longer contain it. Her hips bucked instinctively, the Sybian beneath her humming relentlessly against her swollen lips. The sensation was maddening, a sweet torment that stole her breath. The tug of the clamps against her nipples sent shockwaves that echoed through her chest, amplifying every pulse of the machine beneath her.

Finally, with a choked cry, Ningning tumbled over the edge. Her climax erupted in a cascade of pure, unbridled ecstasy, the pleasure radiating outward in waves that seemed to reach every nerve ending in her body. Her back arched sharply, her bound hands pulling against the ropes as she cried out, her voice raw and guttural. The room echoed with her cries, the sound rich with the depth of her release. A sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, the heat of her orgasm suffusing her body with an electric warmth.

But her climax triggered an unexpected reaction. As she convulsed in pleasure, her body shifted slightly, pulling against the chain that bound her to Giselle. The sudden tug on the clamps sent a searing sting through Giselle’s sensitive peaks, forcing a sharp intake of breath. “Ahh—!” The pain, brief and sharp, acted as a spark, igniting the overwhelming pleasure already coursing through her. The sudden shift from the sharp edge of sensation to the deep pulse of pleasure tipped her over the brink.

Giselle’s climax hit her like a bolt of lightning, her body convulsing as the pleasure surged through her like an unstoppable current. Her thighs clenched against the Sybian, her toes curling as waves of ecstasy consumed her. “Oh… oh my god!” she cried, her voice breaking into gasps as her muscles tightened and released in rhythm with the machine’s relentless vibrations. Her bound wrists strained slightly against the ropes as her body arched, her head tilting back as she surrendered fully to the storm of sensation.

The chain between them continued to shift, transferring the echoes of their climaxes back and forth. Each shudder from one sent a tremor to the other, keeping the intensity alive, binding them in an intimate dance of shared release. The air was thick with their moans and cries, the scent of sweat and arousal mingling with the faint metallic tang of the clamps and the warmth of their bodies.

As the waves of their orgasms ebbed, both women collapsed against the Sybians, their bodies trembling from the aftershocks. Their breaths came in short, uneven gasps, their flushed skin glowing in the golden light of the room. Ningning’s head lolled forward, her damp hair clinging to her forehead as she let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I… I can’t believe that…” she murmured, her voice trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction.

Giselle let out a weak chuckle in response, her body still tingling as she struggled to catch her breath. “That was… oh my god…” she whispered, her words trailing off into a soft sigh.

You approached with a quiet calm, your hands steady as you began to remove the clamps. Ningning flinched slightly as the pressure released, a gasp escaping her lips as the blood rushed back to the nubs. Giselle let out a low whimper as her clamps were removed, the absence of the sting leaving behind a bittersweet ache. The chain clinked softly as you set it aside, the delicate links gleaming under the light.

The room was silent for a moment, save for their heavy breathing. The faint scent of sweat and musk lingered in the air, a reminder of the intensity they had just shared. Slowly, you helped them off the Sybians, their legs shaky as they stood on unsteady feet. Their gazes met briefly, and in that moment, they shared a wordless connection—one of trust, vulnerability, and the profound bond forged through their shared journey.

The air is heavy with the scent of perfume mingled with the musky, unmistakable aroma of arousal, amplifying the intimacy of the moment. Your voice broke the silence, steady and inviting. “This entire evening began because there were questions. Uncertainties. I think it’s time we find some unforgettable answers.”

With a gesture, you beckoned them to follow. They obeyed, their movements tentative but eager as they stepped into the next space, their trust in you palpable.

The room they entered was a world unto itself, bathed in a soft, golden light that seemed to cast everything in a sensual glow. Shadows played along the walls, which were adorned with subtle, tasteful art hinting at themes of connection and exploration. The centerpiece of the room was the table—an object both functional and artful. It was designed with purpose, offering support and exposure in equal measure. Its smooth, cool surface gleamed under the light, and the padded leg rests positioned on either side made its intent unmistakable.

The air was cooler here, brushing against their bare skin as you gestured for them to move toward the table. The change in temperature heightened their awareness of every inch of their exposed bodies.

With their hands still securely tied behind their backs, you stepped closer, offering calm guidance. “Let me help you,” you murmured, your voice steady but soft. You lifted Ningning first, your hands firm but gentle as you supported her waist and carried her toward the edge of the table. She let out a soft gasp as her thighs brushed the cool surface. With care, you guided her legs into the padded rests on either side of the table. The gentle pressure of the rests spread her legs deliberately, leaving her fully exposed while providing enough support to keep her stable. Her bound hands rested against her lower back, the ropes pressing lightly into her skin as she adjusted to the vulnerable pose. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, her arousal evident in the faint tremble of her body.

Next, you turned to Giselle, offering the same care and precision. Her flushed cheeks deepened in color as you approached, her gaze flicking briefly to Ningning before meeting yours. Without protest, she allowed you to lift her, her body pliant under your hands as you settled her beside Ningning. You guided her legs into the rests, positioning her with equal care. The deliberate spread of her thighs mirrored Ningning’s, the padded supports keeping her comfortably stable despite the exposure. The ropes binding her wrists brushed against her back, grounding her in the moment as her breathing quickened. A soft shiver passed through her as she adjusted to the position, the coolness of the table contrasting sharply with the heat blooming across her body.

The leg rests left them both completely open, their flushed folds glistening in the soft light with evidence of their earlier arousal. Their slightly reclined positions and bound wrists emphasized their vulnerability, making them acutely aware of their own exposure. The design of the table kept them secure yet unrestricted, every detail thoughtfully crafted to heighten their sensitivity.

Their gazes met across the table, their expressions a mix of embarrassment and curiosity, with undeniable arousal flickering in their eyes. The leg rests not only positioned them perfectly but also ensured they could see one another clearly—every curve, every trembling breath, every glisten of their shared vulnerability. This perspective forced them to confront not only their own openness but also the beauty of the other, creating a charged intimacy that crackled between them.

“Good,” you said softly, stepping back to take in the sight before you. Their spread legs, the sheen of sweat on their skin, and the soft flush painting their cheeks created a stunning tableau. “You’re both perfect like this.”

The praise sent visible shivers through their bodies, their breathing deepening as they settled into the moment. The tension in the room was palpable, each subtle movement and soft exhale amplifying the anticipation that enveloped them. The deliberate positioning, the careful exposure, and the warmth of your voice wrapped around them, leaving them completely immersed in the present.

From a nearby table, you reached for two butt plugs, their sleek surfaces already glistening with a generous coating of lubricant. The subtle gleam of the objects caught the soft light, drawing their attention. Your gaze flickered over both women as you held the plugs in your hands, your movements deliberate and calculated.

Starting with Giselle, you stepped beside her. Her bound hands rested behind her lower back, her body tense with anticipation. “Relax,” you murmured, your voice calm and soothing. Your hand rested firmly on the curve of her hip, grounding her as you brought the tip of the plug to her back entrance. The coolness of the metal met her warm, flushed skin, and she inhaled sharply, her body stiffening momentarily before yielding.

Her tight ring fluttered under the gentle pressure, the initial resistance giving way as you eased the plug inside with slow, deliberate movements. The sensation was unfamiliar but not unwelcome—a mix of stretch and fullness that sent a shiver through her. Giselle’s breathing quickened, a low moan slipping from her lips as her body adjusted. The weight of the plug settled deeply within her, the sensation of being filled creating a pulse of heat that spread to her core.

From her position, Ningning watched intently, her wide eyes fixed on the sight of the plug slipping into Giselle’s body. The intimacy of the moment left Ningning trembling, her lips parting as her own arousal deepened. A soft whimper escaped her, her thighs quivering as she anticipated her turn.

Giselle exhaled shakily as the plug settled fully into place, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson and her thighs trembling with the effort of holding still. “Good girl,” you murmured, your voice rich with approval. The tension in her shoulders eased, her body relaxing as she adjusted to the sensation. A soft moan escaped her lips, the fullness bringing a strange but exhilarating pleasure.

Turning your attention to Ningning, you moved beside her. Unlike Giselle, her body tensed visibly as you brought the plug to her entrance. Her tight ring quivered under the cool touch of the metal, her breaths quick and uneven. “Breathe,” you instructed gently, your free hand stroking the small of her back in soothing circles. “Relax. Let your body accept it.”

Ningning whimpered softly, her body resisting at first, but she focused on your voice, her breaths coming in slower, measured waves. With patient care, you applied gentle, consistent pressure, coaxing her to open for you. “That’s it,” you murmured, your tone low and encouraging. “You’re doing so well.”

Finally, with a soft, wet sound, the plug slipped inside, settling into place with a quick plop. Ningning gasped sharply, her body jerking slightly as she adjusted to the intrusion. The sensation was intense—a stretching, filling heat that left her trembling. Her head tilted forward, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. As she focused on her breathing, the tension in her muscles softened, and the unfamiliar weight of the plug began to sink in, igniting a low, persistent heat deep within her.

From across the table, Giselle’s gaze met Ningning’s, her lips parting in a small, knowing smile. The shared vulnerability in their expressions created an unspoken bond, their arousal deepening as they took in the sight of one another.

As their eyes lingered on each other, the plugs within them seemed to pulse in response to the visual stimulation. Ningning’s lips trembled as the subtle throb of fullness radiated through her, amplifying the heat already pooling between her thighs. Giselle’s cheeks flushed darker as her breathing quickened, the sensation of the plug sending shivers up her spine at the sight of Ningning’s wet folds and trembling thighs. Their bodies reacted in tandem, the intimacy of their shared position heightening the sensations coursing through them.

“Perfect,” you said, stepping back to admire the tableau before you. The sight of their flushed bodies, the plugs nestled snugly within them, and the glistening evidence of their arousal was nothing short of mesmerizing.

Your hands moved with purpose, brushing lightly along their inner thighs. The contrast of your warm skin against their cool flesh drew gasps from both of them, their hips shifting instinctively at the sensation. Ningning’s thighs quivered as she felt her wetness slick against her skin, while Giselle bit her lower lip to stifle a moan, her body trembling under your touch.

“Trust me to take you where you’ve never been before,” you said, your tone calm but firm, your presence a steady anchor in the storm of sensations flooding their bodies.

They nodded in unison, their gazes flicking briefly to the other’s exposed, flushed sex before returning to you. The sight of one another—the swollen, glistening evidence of their shared arousal and the plugs nestled intimately within—intensified their responses. Ningning’s lips parted, her breathing quick and shallow, as her hips lifted slightly, her arousal pooling beneath her. Giselle’s legs trembled visibly, her hands twitching faintly in their bindings as she struggled to maintain her position. The unspoken connection between them bound them tighter than any rope, their shared vulnerability becoming an electric force in the room.

You stood like a shadow of command, donned in sleek black gloves that seemed to absorb the dim light rather than reflect it. Every movement was deliberate, precise, as if you were an enigmatic conductor preparing to orchestrate a symphony of sensations. 

The room, bathed in a soft, ambient glow, felt alive with anticipation. The air was thick, a heady mix of warmth and the faint, musky scent of arousal that clung to the participants like a second skin. Every breath was heavier, every sound amplified, from the soft creak of the table to the slight rustle of fabric. Giselle and Ningning knelt in vulnerable expectation, their flushed faces glistening faintly in the subdued light, their eyes locked on you with a mixture of trepidation and eager surrender.

With the gloves flexing against your fingers, you moved closer, your gaze sharp and intent. “We’re raising the stakes,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding, sending a ripple of tension through the room. They watched, their lips parting as their breathing quickened, aware that the next moments would challenge their boundaries further.

The new clamps gleamed faintly in your hand, they’re longer, more elaborate designs promising a deeper sensation. You approached Ningning first, your gloved hand brushing over the soft, flushed curve of her breast as she let out a shaky breath. The room seemed to hold its breath as you secured the first clamp, the cool metal biting lightly into her sensitive peak. A soft gasp escaped her lips, the sting sharp but intoxicating, her body responding with a subtle shiver as the clamp tightened.

Giselle was next, her body tensing momentarily before she exhaled slowly, her chest rising toward your touch as you affixed the clamp to her. The device closed over her nipple with a firm click, its grip sending a wave of warmth radiating from the point of contact. Her lips parted as a low moan slipped out, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as she adjusted to the sensation.

But the clamps alone weren’t your final act. With calculated precision, you introduced a weight suspended delicately between them, its polished surface gleaming faintly in the soft light. The fine rope connecting the clamps grew taut as the weight hung in balance, a silent promise of the delicate interplay between pleasure and pain. The shift in pressure elicited a duet of gasps from the two women, their bodies adjusting instinctively to the new, heavier sensation.

You weren’t finished. From your pocket, you produced two pairs of panties—the same ones they had given you earlier, now slightly crumpled but still heavy with the dampness of their earlier passion. The delicate fabric, saturated with their arousal, carried a potent, lingering scent that filled the air as you held them up. The sight alone made both women’s eyes widen, their breaths hitching as they recognized their most intimate garments.

Instead of returning the panties to their respective owners, you swapped them. Ningning’s panties, still soaked, were brought to Giselle’s lips. The soft fabric brushed against her mouth, the dampness transferring a hint of warmth to her flushed skin. Giselle opened obediently, her tongue grazing the material as she accepted it, her lips closing tightly around the fabric. A muffled moan escaped her, her cheeks darkening as the heady taste of Ningning’s arousal filled her senses.

Next, Giselle’s panties were turned toward Ningning. The sight made Ningning’s lips tremble, her gaze darting toward Giselle briefly before parting her mouth. The damp fabric slipped inside, brushing against her tongue and flooding her senses with the musky essence of her partner. A soft whimper escaped her, muffled by the gag as her thighs quivered against the table. The mingling sensations of taste, texture, and the intimate act itself sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body, leaving her breathless.

But you weren’t done. With calculated precision, you retrieved a fine rope and tied it securely to the weight that hung between their clamps. The other end of the rope was looped through the panties now acting as their gags, the tension creating a delicate balance. The setup ensured that the weight’s position depended entirely on their ability to keep the fabric held firmly in place with their mouths.

“Hold it,” you instructed, your voice calm but firm, commanding their full attention. “If you let go, the clamps will pull free. The choice is yours.”

The weight of your words sank in immediately. Their glossy eyes darted to the rope, then to each other, wide with a mixture of trepidation and arousal. A silent understanding passed between them, their bodies tensing as they adjusted to this new layer of challenge. Both nodded, their muffled breaths quickening as they accepted the stakes.

Ningning was the first to react, her thighs trembling as she tried to maintain her composure. The subtle pull of the weight tugged at her sensitive nipples, the clamps intensifying every small motion. Each jolt of sensation sent ripples of pleasure and sharp stings coursing through her, her muffled whimpers growing louder as she fought to steady herself. The fabric in her mouth teased her tongue, the lingering taste of Giselle’s arousal adding an almost surreal intimacy to her predicament.

Giselle fared no better, though she held herself with a fraction more control. She bit down firmly on the soft, damp fabric of Ningning’s panties, her lips tightening as the weight swayed faintly between them. Every movement created a delicate tension that sent sharp, electrifying pulses through her clamps. The stinging pleasure spread across her chest and down to her core, each shift adding to the heat pooling between her thighs. Her muffled moans were low and throaty, her breaths coming in shallow bursts as her body fought to adapt to the exquisite torment.

The air in the room grew thicker, heavy with the mingling scents of their arousal and the faint metallic tang of the clamps. The ambient lighting cast golden shadows on their trembling forms, highlighting every quiver, every subtle motion. Their glistening folds, slick with evidence of their arousal, shone under the warm light, small beads of moisture trailing down their inner thighs.

You stepped back slightly, your hands folded behind your back, watching with quiet satisfaction as the weight swayed gently between them. Every tremor in their bodies, every muffled moan, sent ripples of shared sensation through the taut rope, binding them together in a fragile but electric equilibrium. The rope connecting their mouths to the clamps created a symphony of tension—each motion resonating through their bodies, amplifying the moment.

“Beautiful,” you said softly, your tone filled with calm approval.

They responded with muffled moans, the vibrations resonating through the soaked fabric of their gags. Ningning’s hips shifted slightly, her thighs trembling as her arousal continued to build, pooling beneath her. A bead of moisture slipped down her inner thigh, drawing a low, muffled whimper from her lips. Giselle’s chest heaved as she focused on steadying her breath, her body shivering with each pull of the clamps, her muffled cries blending harmoniously with Ningning’s.

With the stage perfectly set, you turned your attention to the vibrators resting in your gloved hands. The sleek, smooth surfaces glinted faintly in the ambient light as your fingers moved over them with a deliberate precision, each motion infused with purpose. For a moment, there was a hush, a reverent stillness, as you prepared for the next act of this intimate composition.

You stepped closer, the faint hum of the weight’s sway and the soft rustle of rope filling the room. Giselle and Ningning’s flushed bodies trembled in anticipation, their gags muffling their shallow breaths as their glossy eyes darted between you and the objects in your hands. Their legs spread wider, their glistening folds exposed to the cool air, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from their cores.

With exquisite care, you placed the vibrators on the outer lips of their eager sexes, the cold touch of the devices drawing gasps from both women. Ningning shuddered visibly, her thighs quivering as the initial contact sent ripples of sensation through her. Giselle’s hips twitched slightly, her muffled whimper vibrating through the fabric in her mouth. The vibrators rested there like poised instruments, their presence a tantalizing promise.

Then, with a flick of your fingers, you brought the devices to life. The vibrators hummed softly at first, their song blending seamlessly with the tension-charged air. The sound resonated not just in the room but seemed to echo deep within the women’s cores, a prelude to the symphony you were carefully crafting.

The first waves of vibration were subtle but insistent, coaxing their bodies into movement. Ningning arched slightly, a muffled cry escaping her as the gentle pulsing teased her sensitive lips. Giselle exhaled sharply through her gag, her chest heaving as she adjusted to the sensations coursing through her. Their reactions were immediate, their hips shifting involuntarily as the vibrators’ rhythm built slowly.

With deft adjustments, you increased the intensity. The hum deepened, growing richer and more resonant, filling the space with its intoxicating song. The vibrations now pulsed in steady waves, syncing with the rhythm of the girls’ trembling bodies. Their breaths became shallow, the rise and fall of their chests mirroring the unrelenting tempo of the devices. Giselle’s moans grew louder, muffled yet urgent, as her hips pressed closer to the source of her pleasure. Ningning’s hands gripped the edges of the table, her knuckles white as her body strained against the ropes and clamps that bound her.

Your gaze never wavered, every detail of their responses etched into your awareness. You adjusted the settings with the precision of a seasoned conductor, attuned to the smallest shifts in their cries, the slightest quiver of their thighs. The vibrators pulsed harder, their relentless rhythm sending jolts of pleasure through their already overstimulated bodies. The once-quiet room now echoed with the melody of their muffled cries and the low, persistent hum of the devices, the sound forming an uninhibited symphony of desire.

The crescendo built steadily, the tension between them palpable. Their flushed folds glistened with arousal, the vibrations drawing out a slick warmth that heightened the intensity of every sensation. The scent of their musk filled the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the clamps and the subtle perfume lingering in the room. The heady aroma wrapped around them, amplifying the connection between mind and body.

As the devices continued their tireless pressure, you introduced a new layer to the symphony. Your gloved hands began a slow, deliberate journey along the insides of their thighs. The cool material of the gloves brushed against their overheated skin, the contrast sending shivers rippling through them. Ningning whimpered, her gag stifling the sound as her legs quaked under your touch. Giselle’s hips jerked involuntarily, her body seeking the pressure she so desperately needed.

Your fingertips danced along their sensitive skin, tracing the delicate curves of their inner thighs. Each caress was maddeningly gentle, a featherlight tease that left them yearning for more. The touch wasn’t enough to satisfy—it was a whisper of contact that promised release but kept it tantalizingly out of reach. The fine rope connecting their gags to the weight pulled taut with every movement, adding an extra layer of tension to their predicament.

Giselle’s hips twitched again, her body betraying her need for more. Her thighs clenched briefly, only to relax as the vibrations overwhelmed her once again. Ningning moaned softly around her gag, the sound vibrating through the fabric as her head tilted back, her eyes fluttering closed. Her fingers curled tighter against the table, her entire body stretched taut with unfulfilled desire.

Then, with a swift, decisive motion, your gloved fingers plunged into the molten heat of each woman, their slick arousal enveloping you as their bodies reacted immediately to the sudden intrusion. Giselle let out a shocked, muffled gasp, her back arching against the tension of the clamps. Ningning followed with a deeper, guttural moan, her hips jerking as her walls clenched tightly around your fingers.

“Ahhh… mmmph!” Giselle whimpered, her voice muffled by the fabric in her mouth, her thighs trembling as she adjusted to the dual onslaught of your fingers and the relentless hum of the vibrators.

“Mmm… ohhh,” Ningning cried, the panties in her mouth softening her desperate moans. Her body trembled violently, the tension in her thighs visible as she tried to hold steady against the overwhelming sensations.

Your hands worked with calculated precision, thrusting and curling in perfect harmony with the relentless rhythm of the vibrators. Every movement was deliberate, each touch aimed at stoking the fires within them. The wet, rhythmic sound of your thrusts mingled with their muffled cries and the hum of the vibrators, creating an erotic symphony that filled the room.

The air was thick with the scent of arousal, a heady musk mingled with the faint metallic tang of the clamps. Each breath was heavier, laden with anticipation and desire. The clamps tugged faintly with every motion, the delicate chains swaying and adding a constant sting that heightened their already overstimulated senses.

“Look at each other,” you whispered, your tone low but commanding, cutting through the haze of their ragged breathing. “See the ecstasy on your faces. This is real, and it’s happening to both of you.”

Their gazes lifted, hesitant and hazy with arousal, before locking onto one another. Giselle’s flushed cheeks and glazed eyes mirrored the same overwhelmed passion radiating from Ningning. In that shared moment, they saw themselves reflected in the other—the trembling thighs, the arch of their backs, the unrestrained pleasure in their moans.

“Mmm… Unnie…” Ningning whimpered, her voice muffled but still carrying the raw intensity of her feelings.

Giselle’s own muffled response came as her lips pressed tighter around the fabric, her eyes locking onto Ningning’s. “Mmm… you look… so good…” she moaned, her hips shifting as your fingers curled again, finding the spot that made her tremble uncontrollably.

The sight of each other—flushed, vulnerable, and writhing in synchronized bliss—heightened their arousal to dizzying heights. Their muffled cries grew louder, mingling as they surrendered completely to the sensations.

Your fingers moved with an intuitive rhythm, delving into their cores with the precision of an artist sculpting a masterpiece. The pads of your fingers grazed over their most sensitive spots, curling to press against hidden nerves that made their bodies jerk and spasm. When your thumb brushed over Ningning’s swollen nub, her body jolted, her muffled cry vibrating through her gag.

“Ahhh—ohhh!” she whimpered, her thighs trembling as the dual sensations pushed her closer to the edge. Her walls clenched tightly around your fingers, the slick heat enveloping you in a way that made each motion fluid and electrifying.

Giselle wasn’t far behind. The relentless thrusting and curling of your fingers sent waves of ecstasy radiating through her. “Mmmph… don’t stop!” she moaned, her voice vibrating against the fabric. Her body arched, her hips bucking involuntarily as she chased the release that was tantalizingly close.

The clamps tugged with every movement, the sharp sting blending seamlessly with the relentless pleasure coursing through their bodies. The vibrators pulsed harder, their rhythm unrelenting, and the room was alive with the symphony of muffled moans, gasps, and the slick sounds of your fingers working them toward their breaking points.

Their gazes remained locked, the intensity of their connection building with every shared moan and cry. They weren’t just watching each other—they were mirroring, feeling the same overwhelming sensations, tethered not just by the clamps and chains but by the raw intimacy of their shared experience.

“Don’t look away,” you murmured, your voice both commanding and soothing. “Stay with each other. Feel this together.”

Their cries grew more desperate, their bodies trembling violently as the crescendo neared. Each thrust of your fingers, each pulse of the vibrators, brought them closer to the inevitable. The moment hung in the air, electric and heavy, as their bodies teetered on the edge of release. The symphony of their pleasure filled the room, their connection deepening as they surrendered to the shared ecstasy.

Giselle, her once porcelain skin now glowing with vivid hues of arousal, was the first to succumb. The vibrator pressed firmly against her wet sex relentlessly, the rhythm an unyielding assault that synced perfectly with the precise thrusts and curls of your gloved fingers. Each calculated movement was designed to draw her closer to the edge, her body reacting with a raw, uncontrollable urgency. Her thighs trembled visibly, muscles quivering with the effort to hold still as her hips instinctively sought more pressure, more friction. The soft, relentless buzz of the vibrator sent deep, reverberating pulses through her core, unraveling her composure thread by thread.

Her breathing was uneven, sharp gasps escaping her parted lips as the waves of sensation coursed through her. Her chest heaved, the rise and fall of her breaths drawing attention to the beads of sweat trailing down her flushed skin. Each shiver, each arch of her back, was a testament to the unrelenting pleasure building within her.

Across from her, Ningning moaned softly against the gag between her lips, her muffled cries carrying an edge of desperation. The relentless rhythm of the vibrator pressed against her own slick folds mirrored Giselle’s torment, while your fingers worked her just as masterfully. Yet, even as her body writhed and arched under your touch, her gaze was fixed on Giselle. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her partner’s unraveling—the way Giselle’s thighs quivered, her hips bucked, and her flushed cheeks glistened in the dim light.

The sight sent a jolt of shock and anticipation coursing through Ningning, heightening her own arousal. She whimpered against the gag, her muffled voice a mixture of awe and need as she watched Giselle’s mounting climax unfold. The connection between them—the shared vulnerability, the mirrored sensations—made every moment more intense, every touch and vibration more profound.

Giselle’s moans grew louder, sharper, her hips rocking desperately as she teetered on the brink. Her breaths turned shallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly as every muscle in her core pulled taut. The vibrator’s relentless hum dug deeper into her, and the precise thrusts of your fingers coaxed her closer and closer to release. Her body trembled violently, the tension building to an unbearable peak, so unbearable that…

She screamed.

It was raw, primal, and utterly unrestrained. The sound tore through the room like a thunderclap, shattering the fragile equilibrium and reverberating off the walls. The force of Giselle’s scream was so visceral, so forceful, that it dislodged the gag from her lips. The damp fabric fell away, dragging the taut rope with it.

The weight plummeted instantly, yanking the clamps from their places in one brutal, unrelenting motion. The sharp metallic clatter of the clamps hitting the table punctuated the moment, a harsh counterpoint to Giselle’s piercing cry. Her head snapped back, her body arching violently as the pain hit—a fiery, stinging jolt that lanced through her sensitive peaks.

The sudden movement caused the plug nestled inside her to shift, pressing deeper against her inner walls. The fullness was maddening, its weight tugging slightly with each convulsion of her body, adding a new layer of sensation that bordered on overwhelming. The plug pulsed with her every breath, each subtle motion an exquisite mix of pleasure and pressure that amplified the storm raging through her body.

Across from her, Ningning’s muffled cry of surprise transformed into a full-throated scream as the clamps tore from her nipples. The sudden, searing pain ripped through her chest, sending her body into a spasmodic convulsion. Her eyes flew wide, tears pooling at the corners as the shock merged seamlessly with the relentless pleasure from the vibrator and your skilled fingers. The plug nestled deep within her shifted with her movements, its girth pressing insistently against her sensitive inner walls. The sensation was inescapable—filling her completely, intensifying the uncontrollable quaking of her thighs.

Ningning’s body trembled as the sensation of fullness took hold, her muscles contracting around the plug as her hips bucked instinctively. Each motion sent it pressing against new nerve endings, the lubed surface gliding effortlessly but unrelentingly with every shift. Her breath hitched, a mix of sharp whimpers and guttural moans spilling from her lips as the combination of the vibrator, your touch, and the unyielding presence of the plug became too much.

The room was alive with their screams, their voices colliding and amplifying in the charged air. The sharp, fiery pain of the clamps’ removal didn’t detract from the pleasure—it magnified it, adding an edge that sent their senses into overdrive. Their trembling thighs pressed against the relentless buzz of the vibrators, their hips bucking uncontrollably as the sensations overwhelmed them. The plugs, nestled deep inside, provided a constant reminder of their complete surrender, amplifying every vibration, every contraction, every spasm of their bodies.

Their bodies convulsed violently, each arch and shudder a testament to the overwhelming collision of pain and pleasure. Their swollen, oversensitized peaks throbbed with every heartbeat, the absence of the clamps leaving their nerves exposed and ablaze. The plugs moved subtly with their contractions, nudging against sensitive spots that sent new waves of sensation coursing through them, adding depth to their uncontrollable responses.

The symphony of their cries filled the room, a raw and primal testament to the depth of their shared experience. Their voices echoed, weaving together into a cacophony of desperation and release, each sound layering onto the next. Their shared screams became the crescendo, building to the inevitable climax that would consume them both.

And then it happened.

You felt it first in the way their bodies tensed—a subtle tightening of their cores, an instinctive reaction as their climaxes surged forward like an unstoppable tide. The plugs inside them seemed to magnify the tension, each subtle movement adding to their unraveling. Their walls pulsed around your fingers and the unyielding plugs, gripping tightly in a telltale rhythm that signaled their impending eruption. Recognizing the moment, you withdrew your hands with deliberate speed, ensuring nothing obstructed the force of their release.

The dam within them burst, and from their cores erupted a torrent of liquid ecstasy. They squirted—streams of warm, clear fluid arcing through the air, an undeniable declaration of their release. The sight was mesmerizing, a luminous display of their bodies’ raw, unfiltered response. Each spurt carried the weight of their shared passion, the vulnerability of the moment laid bare in every glistening arc.

The liquid splashed against their trembling bodies, the warm essence coating their exposed, flushed sexes. The heat of their release mingled with the lingering vibrations of the devices, amplifying the intensity of their sensations. Ningning let out a choked gasp, her moan raw and unrestrained as her thighs quivered violently. The plug inside her seemed to amplify the sensation, pressing firmly as her body convulsed, each spasm sending it moving just enough to heighten her ecstasy.

Their streams weren’t contained to their bodies alone. The arcing jets crossed the space between them, spraying each other’s thighs and stomachs in a chaotic, sensual cascade. Ningning’s release splattered against Giselle’s trembling skin, streaking her flushed chest and dripping down her abdomen in warm rivulets. Giselle’s own torrent painted Ningning’s heaving stomach and thighs, droplets clinging to her glistening skin before sliding away in teasing trails.

The sheer force of their release left the table beneath them soaked, glistening with the evidence of their climaxes. Each surge seemed more powerful than the last, their bodies responding with an intensity that even you hadn’t fully anticipated. For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, a faint flicker of surprise passing through your otherwise composed demeanor as the sheer volume of their shared ecstasy unfolded before you.

The sprays didn’t stop at their bodies. Streams arced further than expected, warm droplets landing on the floor, the surrounding table, and even your arms as you steadied yourself near them. Some of their essence reached their faces, warm, saline splashes landing on lips and cheeks. Giselle’s tongue darted out instinctively, catching a droplet of Ningning’s release and tasting the faintly salty intimacy of their shared moment. Ningning, wide-eyed and trembling, whimpered as she felt the same—her tongue brushing against her lips and meeting the unmistakable flavor of Giselle’s climax. It wasn’t just a connection; it was a visceral, undeniable bond that transcended words.

Their bodies quivered uncontrollably, each wave of pleasure rolling through them in relentless succession. Giselle’s thighs quaked as her hips bucked against the relentless echoes of her climax, her hands gripping the edges of the table as though to anchor herself. Ningning, her cheeks streaked with her own release and Giselle’s, let out a soft, broken moan, her body trembling as the final spasms left her utterly spent.

The cries they let out echoed through the room, raw and primal, the acoustics amplifying every gasp and moan into a symphony of passion. The unrestrained music of their climaxes filled every corner, a harmony of desperation and release that seemed to resonate beyond the walls. Each sound, each trembling shudder wove together into a tapestry of sensory overload, a shared expression of the overwhelming pleasure that consumed them.

Even as their streams began to wane, smaller bursts continued to spatter against their already soaked skin. Ningning’s thighs were slick with her own release, her essence mingling with Giselle’s in a chaotic, intoxicating display of vulnerability and pleasure. Giselle’s chest heaved as she took in shuddering breaths, her flushed skin shimmering in the golden light as trails of liquid traced down her stomach and thighs.

Finally, the torrents subsided, leaving their glistening bodies sprawled and trembling. The table beneath them was slick, the evidence of their shared climaxes pooling in small rivulets that dripped to the floor. The air hung heavy with the heady, musky perfume of their arousal, the scent a tangible reminder of the intimacy they had just shared.

The stillness of the room was broken only by the sound of their shallow breaths. Giselle and Ningning lay limp, their flushed bodies trembling faintly as they came down from the intensity of their shared release. The faint sheen of sweat and evidence of their climax clung to their skin, a vivid testament to the raw passion they had just experienced.

You stepped closer, your movements deliberate and soothing, your presence grounding them in the aftermath of what had just transpired. Slowly, you reached down to Giselle first, your hand brushing lightly over her lower back as you murmured, “Breathe and relax.” Carefully, you began to ease the plug from her, the gentle but firm motion drawing a soft gasp from her lips as her tight ring fluttered around the intrusion. As the plug slipped free with a quiet pop, a small dribble escaped her slick folds, trailing down her trembling thighs. Giselle shivered at the sensation as she adjusted to the absence.

You took a moment, letting her breathe as you moved to her bound wrists. “You’ve done so well,” you said softly, untying the ropes with practiced care. As her arms were freed, she let out a small sigh of relief, her muscles trembling from the strain but grateful for the release. Her hands rested limply on her lap for a moment before she slowly began to flex her fingers, her expression a mix of exhaustion and contentment.

Turning to Ningning, you repeated the process, your hand resting reassuringly on her hip. “Easy,” you said gently, your voice a calming balm. Ningning’s body tensed slightly at first, her breaths uneven, but with your steady guidance, the plug slid free. A soft, wet sound accompanied its removal, and a glistening bead of arousal followed, slipping down to pool beneath her. She let out a shaky whimper, her cheeks burning with renewed embarrassment as she tried to steady herself.

You placed the plug aside before reaching for the ropes binding her hands. “Relax, Ningning,” you murmured, your fingers deftly working to undo the knots. Her hands fell free, her wrists showing faint marks from the ropes, though there was no discomfort in her expression—only a quiet, lingering warmth. She flexed her fingers tentatively, her gaze flicking toward yours with a dazed but grateful look.

For a moment, you let them rest, their bodies too spent to move. You crouched beside them, brushing damp strands of hair from their flushed faces, your touch gentle and grounding. Giselle tilted her head into your hand slightly, her eyes fluttering closed as if savoring the brief comfort. Ningning blinked up at you, her expression dazed but filled with quiet gratitude, her lips parting as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t yet find the words.

“Well done,” you murmured softly, your tone a mix of praise and reassurance. The weight of the moment lingered, heavy with intimacy and trust, as you let them bask in the quiet aftermath.

Finally, after a few beats of stillness, you straightened and offered your hands to each of them. “Come on,” you said, your voice steady but warm. “Let’s get you up.”

Giselle and Ningning each took your hand, their fingers weakly gripping yours as you helped them sit upright. Both winced slightly, the overstimulation evident in the soft, breathy gasps that escaped their lips. When they swung their legs over the edge of the table, they faltered, their knees wobbling beneath them as they tried to stand. You supported them gently, your hands steadying their arms as they leaned against you for balance, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of their shared experience.

“Whoa…” Ningning muttered, clutching your arm for balance. Giselle let out a shaky laugh as she leaned into you for support, her body still trembling. “I don’t think I can walk straight for a week,” she said, her voice light but still breathless.

“Take your time,” you assured them, your hands steadying their arms as they slowly found their footing. Once they were upright, you stepped back, giving them a moment to adjust.

“Thank you,” Giselle said, her voice soft but sincere, her cheeks flushed not just from exertion but from a lingering sense of awe. Ningning nodded in agreement, her lips curving into a faint, grateful smile as she echoed, “Yeah… thank you.”

Ningning turned her head slightly, her half-lidded eyes catching Giselle’s. A faint, breathless laugh escaped her lips. “That… was incredible,” she murmured, her voice shaky but filled with awe. Giselle, still catching her breath, managed a soft smile, her cheeks deepening in color as she nodded in agreement. Words seemed insufficient, the intensity of the moment lingering between them, heavy and unspoken.

You stepped forward, your movements deliberate but calming, your voice soft yet firm. “You’ve both done wonderfully,” you said, your tone carrying an unmistakable note of pride. “It’s over now. You’ve experienced all you came for.”

The words hung in the air, settling over them like the final note of a beautiful symphony. For a moment, both women seemed to process the finality, their breaths still uneven, their flushed faces reflecting a mixture of contentment and loss. An emptiness where the intensity had burned now lingered in its place, raw and unfamiliar. They exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them, before Ningning spoke, her voice hesitant but filled with newfound boldness.

“I don’t want it to be over,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing deeper as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “I don’t even know how to describe how I feel right now, but I want… more.”

Giselle nodded, her voice low but steady. “You’ve given us something unforgettable. We want to thank you—properly. Not just with words.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly, though your expression remained composed. A flicker of reluctance passed over your face before you replied, your voice calm but softer, tinged with sincerity. “That’s not necessary,” you said. “This was always about you—your experience, your journey. There’s no need to thank me.”

The two women didn’t falter, their gazes locked on yours with earnest determination. Ningning leaned forward slightly, her voice trembling with a mix of nerves and excitement. “We want it,” she said, the quiet intensity of her words ringing out. Giselle echoed her sentiment with a soft, “Please,” her lips parting slightly as her eyes gleamed with certainty.

You studied them for a moment, your expression thoughtful. Then, giving a slight nod, your demeanor shifted from instructor to something warmer, more inviting. “If it’s something you truly want…” you began, your voice deepening with an edge of authority that sent a shiver through them, “then it’s a possibility.”

Their faces brightened with anticipation, their flushed cheeks deepening as they exchanged a quick glance. With a steady breath, you gestured toward the door. “Follow me.”

You extended a hand, and they took it eagerly, their legs still trembling as they stood. You led them through another doorway, the atmosphere shifting subtly as the space opened into a luxurious room. The centerpiece was a large, inviting bed draped in soft, elegant linens. The lighting was warm and intimate, the scent of fresh linen mingling with the lingering musk of their arousal.

They exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them, before their attention turned fully to you. With a mix of boldness and reverence, their hands moved toward you, beginning the process of undressing you. Ningning’s fingers were the first to find the buttons of your shirt, her movements slow and deliberate as she worked her way downward, her gaze flickering upward to meet yours. Giselle followed suit, her hands trailing lightly across your shoulders as she slid the fabric away, leaving your chest bare.

The room seemed to hold its breath as their hands continued, working in unison to undo your belt and ease your pants down with careful precision. They paused briefly, their eyes traveling over your now-exposed form, and a shared breath escaped them, a soft sound of awe and anticipation.

Wordlessly, you guided them forward, stepping out of the last remnants of your clothing and moving to the bed. You settle onto your back with deliberate ease, the soft linens cool against your heated skin. Their eyes followed you closely, the intensity in their gazes growing as they climbed onto the bed, each taking a position on either side of your legs.

They hesitated for just a moment, their eyes meeting once again in silent understanding before turning back to you. The air between the three of you was thick with anticipation, the intimacy of the moment stretching taut as they prepared to continue.

The room seemed to hum with the charged energy between the three of you. Giselle moved first, her confidence shining as she leaned forward, her lips parting. Warm breath ghosted over your tip before her tongue flicked out, her first touch tentative but deliberate. She began with slow, exploratory movements, her lips pressing softly as her tongue traced deliberate paths. Her hands rested firmly on your thighs, steadying herself as her rhythm built.

Ningning watched closely, her wide eyes fixed on Giselle’s movements, her breath catching as she took it all in. After a moment, she joined in, her hesitation evident in her softer, more delicate approach. Her lips brushed lightly against your member, a tentative kiss that quickly deepened as her tongue followed, her confidence growing with every touch. Her hands mirrored Giselle’s, settling on your other thigh as she sought to match her partner’s rhythm.

The contrast between them was intoxicating—Giselle’s firm, deliberate strokes complemented by Ningning’s softer, more exploratory touch. Their lips and tongues alternated, each adding their own unique intensity to the experience. Sometimes their movements overlapped, their tongues brushing against one another as they worked in tandem. The accidental contact of their lips, faint and fleeting, sent a ripple of warmth through all three of you, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

As their synchronization improved, their rhythm became seamless. Giselle’s confident strokes guided Ningning’s more delicate approach, and together they created a dynamic harmony. Their lips sometimes pressed against one another as they adjusted their positions, their shared focus blurring the lines between their individual efforts. The wet, rhythmic sounds of their tongues and lips filled the room, punctuated by their soft, muffled moans.

You placed a hand on each of their heads, your fingers threading gently through their hair, guiding them closer as they worked. The warmth of their mouths enveloped you, their tongues gliding and flicking with growing intensity. “You girls are amazing,” you murmured, your voice thick with approval. The praise spurred them on, their movements growing more deliberate as they leaned into the moment.

Giselle glanced up briefly, her gaze meeting yours with a glint of pride before she redoubled her efforts. Her lips pressed firmly, her tongue moving with deliberate precision as she explored every inch of your shaft. Each stroke was confident, her focus unwavering as she worked with practiced grace. Ningning, inspired by Giselle’s lead, grew bolder in her own movements. Her lips and tongue mirrored Giselle’s rhythm at first, but after a brief pause, she shifted her focus.

With a soft hum of approval, Ningning trailed lower, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your base before moving to your balls. Her tongue darted out tentatively at first, tracing slow, delicate circles that sent a subtle shiver through your body. Encouraged by the reaction, she grew bolder, her lips wrapping around one side as her tongue continued its exploration. The warmth and softness of her mouth contrasted perfectly with the firmer, more focused pressure of Giselle’s movements above.

The dynamic between them shifted into something even more enthralling. Giselle maintained her focus on the shaft, her tongue gliding over the cock with deliberate care, alternating between firm strokes and teasing flicks that left your body humming with sensation. Meanwhile, Ningning lavished attention on your balls, her lips and tongue moving in gentle, rhythmic motions. The combination of their efforts created an intoxicating duality—the firm, deliberate touch above and the soft, warm caress below.

Occasionally, their coordination brought them close enough that their lips brushed faintly against one another, a fleeting contact that only deepened the intimacy of the moment. The gentle friction of their mouths meeting, even briefly, sent a spark of warmth radiating through you, adding another layer of connection to their synchronized devotion.

Your hands remained on their heads, fingers threading gently through their hair as their efforts intensified. Giselle’s moans vibrated against your shaft, each stroke of her tongue more deliberate and precise as she sensed the growing tension in your body. Below, Ningning’s quieter, reverent whimpers continued as her mouth explored your sensitive base. Her tongue traced languid circles, her lips warm and soft as they enveloped one side and then the other, her gentle rhythm a perfect counterpoint to Giselle’s focused attention.

Their coordination was seamless, a perfect harmony of passion and purpose. Giselle’s lips tightened, her pace quickening slightly, while Ningning pressed more firmly against you, her hands gripping your thighs for balance. The wet sounds of their tongues, the heat of their mouths, and the occasional gentle friction when their lips brushed against one another created an intoxicating symphony of sensations. Each flick of their tongues, each press of their lips, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

The intensity grew, your muscles tightening as you felt yourself approach the edge. “I’m close,” you murmured, your voice thick with the weight of the moment. The words hung in the air, a signal that spurred them both into action.

Giselle slowed her pace slightly, pulling back just enough to meet Ningning’s gaze. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and understanding as she reached down, her fingers brushing Ningning’s cheek. With a gentle but deliberate touch, she guided Ningning upward, encouraging her to take the lead.

Ningning hesitated for only a heartbeat before following Giselle’s lead, her lips parting as she moved to take your release. Giselle’s hand lingered on Ningning’s jaw for a moment, a silent gesture of encouragement, before she settled back slightly, her lips brushing against Ningning’s cheek as they passed.

As Ningning wrapped her soft lips fully around you, Giselle shifted her focus lower, her movements deliberate and exploratory. Her lips pressed against the sensitive skin at the base of your length, trailing lower, her hot breath ghosting over your skin. Slowly, she descended further, her tongue darting out to taste and tease the delicate area. Her exploration didn’t stop there—her lips found the sensitive ring of muscle below, and she paused for only a moment before pressing her tongue against it.

The first touch of Giselle’s tongue was tentative, a light flick that sent a shiver rippling up your spine. Your body tensed reflexively at the unexpected sensation, and a sudden, involuntary twitch coursed through you, pressing deeper into Ningning’s mouth. She gasped softly around your cock, her lips stretching slightly as her eyes widened in surprise. The movement only seemed to spur her on, her tongue stroking with renewed determination as she adjusted to the change.

The sensation of Giselle’s tongue was electrifying, her warm, wet strokes contrasting sharply with the cool air of the room. As she grew bolder, her tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles around your entrance, teasing the sensitive nerve endings there. Each lap was firm and exploratory, her lips sealing softly against your skin as she alternated between gentle strokes and firmer presses. Her low, muffled hums of satisfaction reverberated through you, intensifying the already overwhelming sensations.

Above, Ningning’s mouth enveloped you with unrelenting heat. Her tongue moved with purpose, circling and stroking with a rhythm that deepened the connection between her and the act itself. Her soft moans vibrated against your length, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Her hands rested lightly on your thighs, her fingers clenching slightly with every twitch and thrust, her arousal mirrored in her every action.

The dual sensations were almost too much to bear. The wet heat of Ningning’s mouth surrounding you, paired with the rhythmic lapping of Giselle’s tongue at your most sensitive entrance, sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body. Every nerve felt alive, ignited by their synchronized efforts. Your hips instinctively rocked forward, driven by the intensity of the pleasure building within you. The contrast between Ningning’s focused, deliberate rhythm and Giselle’s teasing, exploratory movements created a synergy that pushed you to the brink.

The throaty hum of Giselle’s muffled moans as she worked only heightened the experience, the vibrations reverberating through your core. At the same time, Ningning’s lips slid down your cock with an almost reverent focus, her tongue pressing firmly and swirling along the underside in perfect harmony. The combined sensations left you entirely at their mercy, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the overwhelming pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo.

“Oh, fuck… I’m cumming!” The words tore from your throat, raw and unrestrained, as your body stiffened in response to the tidal wave of pleasure surging through you. Your hips bucked reflexively, driving deeper into Ningning’s warm, wet mouth, while Giselle’s tongue pressed harder against your sensitive entrance, intensifying every nerve-ending’s response.

Loud, guttural grunts and moans escaped you in quick succession, each sound a testament to the sheer intensity of your release. Your voice reverberated through the room, blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds of Ningning’s mouth and Giselle’s deliberate movements. The primal force of your climax left you momentarily unguarded, your vocalizations echoing with abandon.

When the release came, it was powerful and unrestrained. A moan escaped Ningning as the warmth of your climax surged into her mouth. She froze momentarily, her eyes fluttering open with a startled glint before they softened again, her lips tightening instinctively to hold the full weight of your release. The heat filled her mouth, thick and overwhelming, her body trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment. She didn’t swallow—her cheeks puffed slightly as she held it, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Below, Giselle continued her slow, purposeful movements, her tongue still teasing and lapping as if savoring every reaction she drew from you. The lingering sensations were amplified by the combination of Ningning’s focused efforts above and Giselle’s meticulous attention below. The two of them worked in perfect harmony, each touch and movement adding to the unrelenting tide of pleasure that left you utterly undone.

As Ningning began to pull back, a small thread of your release slipped past her lips, streaking down her chin in a glistening trail. Giselle, quick to act, leaned forward with a tender tilt of Ningning’s chin. Her lips captured Ningning’s in a deep, sensual kiss, the act as intimate as it was deliberate. Their tongues met immediately, intertwining in a slow, exploratory dance as Giselle shared in the taste of you.

The kiss deepened, their movements unhurried yet passionate, each of them savoring the shared essence between them. Their lips glistened, the faint, wet sound of their tongues mingling filling the air as the room seemed to hold its breath. Giselle’s hand slid gently to the back of Ningning’s neck, holding her close as they exchanged every drop of your release, the warmth and saltiness a tangible reminder of their connection to you and to each other.

When they finally parted, a faint string of saliva and release still connected their lips, breaking only when they exchanged a final, gentle flick of their tongues. Their eyes met, a mixture of satisfaction and unspoken understanding passing between them. A subtle flush deepened their cheeks, and with a silent agreement, they each tilted their heads back slightly and swallowed half, the deliberate action slow and sensual.

The soft sound of their throats working in unison punctuated the quiet of the room, a shared act that carried both reverence and intimacy. When they turned their attention back to you, their gazes held a newfound confidence, their breaths uneven but steady as they smiled—content and radiant, their connection with you and with each other now etched into the memory of this profound moment. Their glistening lips, flushed skin, and languid postures spoke volumes, a testament to the depth of the shared experience and the bond it had forged between the three of you.

As the moment of stillness settled, Giselle’s gaze lingered on you, a spark of playful determination flickering in her eyes. Without breaking the charged silence, she moved with deliberate grace, shifting her position. Rising to her knees, she swung a leg over your chest, her movements fluid and confident, until she was poised above your face. The intoxicating scent of her arousal filled your senses as she slowly lowered herself toward you.

Simultaneously, Ningning moved with equal intent, positioning herself at your hips. Her hands guided your cock into place with a mix of precision and eagerness, the warmth of her touch electrifying. As she slid you inside her, a low, throaty moan escaped her lips, her head tilting back as her body adjusted to the fullness. The tight, wet heat of her walls enveloped you completely, her hips rocking experimentally as she found her rhythm.

Your mouth met Giselle’s waiting heat with deliberate intensity, your tongue darting out to taste her. She gasped softly, her thighs trembling as she pressed herself against you, her hands gripping the headboard for balance. Each flick of your tongue sent ripples of pleasure through her, her moans cascading down to mingle with the sounds of Ningning’s gasps and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin as she rode you. Giselle’s movements grew bolder, her hips grinding against your mouth, the wetness of her arousal coating your lips and tongue as you worked to bring her higher.

Ningning, meanwhile, moved with increasing fervor, her hips undulating as she took your cock deeper with each thrust. The sensation of fullness sent shivers up her spine, her moans growing louder as she adjusted to the rhythm of your movements. Her hands rested on your chest for support, her nails digging lightly into your skin as the sensation built within her.

The room was alive with the sounds of pleasure—Giselle’s breathy cries as your tongue found her most sensitive spots, Ningning’s desperate moans as she rode you, and the wet, rhythmic sounds of their shared arousal. The heat between the three of you was palpable, an all-encompassing intimacy that left no part of the moment untouched.

Their gazes met across the expanse of your body, each watching the other with unrestrained arousal. Giselle’s lips parted, her flushed cheeks deepening as she locked eyes with Ningning, who mirrored her expression with wide-eyed awe. The sight of each other’s pleasure only seemed to spur them on, their moans becoming more urgent, their movements more synchronized.

Giselle’s hips pressed harder against your face, her thighs quivering as she chased her climax. “Oh… yes,” she murmured breathlessly, her voice trembling as your tongue continued its relentless work. Above you, her chest heaved, her hands gripping the headboard tighter as her body began to tremble.

Below, Ningning’s rhythm grew erratic, her movements desperate as she leaned forward, her forehead brushing lightly against Giselle’s arm as her own release neared. The connection between them—the shared sounds, the exchanged glances, the mirrored vulnerability—heightened the intensity for all three of you.

Your hips met Ningning’s movements with deliberate thrusts, driving her wild with each upward motion. Simultaneously, your tongue flicked and pressed against Giselle’s most sensitive spots, her cries growing louder as she tilted her head back, completely lost in the moment. The three of you moved in perfect sync, an unspoken harmony that left the room bathed in the raw, unfiltered sound of shared passion.

Giselle’s cries grew louder, her hips grinding more insistently against your mouth as her body quivered. Each flick of your tongue sent electric shivers coursing through her, her arousal pooling and dripping down onto your lips and chin. Above, her thighs trembled with the strain of holding herself upright, her fingers gripping the headboard so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Oh—yes! Just like that!” she gasped, her voice breaking as she teetered on the edge.

Ningning was lost in her own spiral of pleasure, her hips rolling in erratic, desperate movements as she took your cock deeper with every thrust. The wet, rhythmic slap of your bodies echoed through the room, mingling with her breathy moans. Her hands pressed into your chest, her nails dragging lightly against your skin as she leaned forward, her forehead brushing against Giselle’s arm. Her voice was shaky but insistent, punctuated by gasps. “I can’t… I’m so close!” she whimpered, her slick heat clenching tightly around you.

As your tongue worked relentlessly against Giselle, your hands moved instinctively, your body attuned to their needs. Blindly, one hand slid down Ningning’s trembling body, your fingertips brushing against the swollen nub at her center. The instant contact made her gasp sharply, her hips bucking as your fingers began to circle her clit with deliberate pressure. The soft, slick heat beneath your hand pulsed with need, and her cries grew louder as the added stimulation pushed her closer to the brink.

Simultaneously, your other hand snaked upward, your fingers finding Giselle’s own sensitive nub above you. Your touch was firm but controlled, matching the rhythm of your tongue as it flicked and pressed against her. Her thighs trembled violently as her moans turned into incoherent cries, her body reacting to the dual assault of your mouth and fingers. “Oh my God—yes!” she cried out, her voice trembling with desperation as her pleasure soared.

The connection between them heightened the intensity, their gazes locking in an unspoken challenge as they each fought to hold on, to chase their climaxes together. Giselle’s flushed face was streaked with sweat, her hair sticking to her temples as she rocked against your mouth. Ningning, her lips parted and eyes heavy-lidded, couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances at Giselle, the sight of her friend’s pleasure fueling her own.

Your fingers moved in perfect sync with your other actions—pressing, circling, and teasing their most sensitive spots with unwavering precision. The added stimulation sent their bodies into overdrive, the tension in the room reaching a fever pitch. Ningning’s thighs quivered uncontrollably, her moans turning into frantic cries, while Giselle’s grip on the headboard tightened further as her hips bucked wildly against your face.

“Unnie—look at me,” Ningning gasped, her voice breaking with urgency. Giselle’s head tilted downward, her glazed eyes meeting Ningning’s as they shared a moment of raw connection. Seeing the desperation mirrored in each other’s faces was the final push they needed.

Giselle’s climax struck first, her body jerking violently as she let out a scream that echoed through the room. Her thighs clamped around your head as her hips bucked, her release flooding over your tongue in warm, powerful surges. She gasped and moaned, the cries spilling out of her uncontrollably as she gave in to the overwhelming pleasure.

Moments later, Ningning followed. Her walls clenched around you, tight and insistent, as her climax erupted. Her body convulsed, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries. “Oh, God—yes, yes!” she screamed, her hips jerking wildly as her release poured over you. The warmth and tightness of her pulsating core became the tipping point, the overwhelming pleasure building to an uncontrollable crescendo.

Your hips bucked instinctively, your movements deep and deliberate as the pressure within you surged forward. With a guttural moan, your release came, spilling deep inside Ningning as her walls fluttered and pulsed around you, her body seeming to draw every last drop from you. The sensation sent waves of electricity through your body, your climax prolonged by the sheer intensity of the moment.

The force of your release triggered a reflexive sound, a deep, raw moan that reverberated through the room. Giselle, still trembling in the aftershocks of her climax, felt the vibrations through her connection to you. The sound seemed to ripple through her, igniting an unexpected wave of pleasure that caused her to cry out once more, her body arching as an aftershock tore through her already sensitive nerves.

Ningning gasped at the sensation of your warmth inside her as her trembling walls milked you for every drop, her body convulsing as her cries turned into soft whimpers., her head tilting back as her hips rocked involuntarily, drawing out every ounce of the shared moment. Her breathing was ragged, her body trembling as her climax merged seamlessly with yours, leaving her utterly spent.

And then, like a pleasurable déjà vu, their bodies, already trembling from the force of their orgasms, arched simultaneously as a second wave overtook them. Streams of warm, clear liquid erupted from their cores, their squirting an undeniable affirmation that the first time wasn’t a fluke. Giselle’s release showered over your face, mingling with the wetness already there, while Ningning’s sprayed against your hips and thighs, the force splashing onto Giselle’s legs as well.

The air hung heavy with the scent of arousal and sweat, the room drenched in the evidence of your shared passion. Giselle finally collapsed forward, her body spent as she leaned heavily against the headboard, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Ningning followed suit, sinking against your chest, her trembling hands resting lightly on your shoulders.

The three of you remained entwined, the quiet punctuated only by the sound of your slowing breaths. Their bodies were slick with sweat, their flushed faces radiant as they exchanged a tired but satisfied smile. It wasn’t just the act itself but the undeniable bond you had forged that left an indelible mark on all three of you.

As the final tremors subsided and the intensity of the moment gave way to stillness, Giselle was the first to move. Her breathing still labored, she carefully shifted off your face, her legs unsteady but strong enough to carry her. Her flushed skin glistened in the warm light, her chest rising and falling as she ran a hand through her damp hair, trying to steady herself. A satisfied smile played on her lips, but her movements were measured, deliberate—a sharp contrast to the state of her companion.

Ningning, however, was visibly more affected. Her body quivered as she slowly lifted herself from your hips, her thighs trembling uncontrollably with every movement. She sank onto the bed beside you, dazed and breathless, her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes a testament to the intensity she had endured. Her hands trembled as she tried to adjust her posture, her body too overwhelmed to fully cooperate.

Giselle noticed immediately, her smile softening as she leaned closer to Ningning, her hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her friend’s face. “Hey, you okay?” Giselle murmured, her tone gentle but filled with concern. She wrapped an arm around Ningning’s shoulders, pulling her close in an attempt to soothe her. Ningning nodded faintly, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she rested her head against Giselle’s shoulder, her body still trembling slightly as she leaned into the comfort.

You moved with quiet care, sitting up and reaching out to rest a hand on each of them. Your voice was low and calming as you addressed them both. “You did beautifully,” you said softly, your hands offering a grounding presence. “You’re both incredible.”

Giselle gave a small, grateful smile, her hand rubbing soothing circles against Ningning’s back as she glanced at you. “Thank you,” she said, her voice steady despite the lingering exhaustion. “I don’t think we’ll ever forget this.”

Ningning’s eyes fluttered open, and after a moment, she echoed Giselle’s words with a faint, breathy whisper. “Thank you.” Her voice was trembling, but there was no mistaking the sincerity behind it. Her gaze drifted to you, still dazed but filled with gratitude.

As the minutes passed, the remnants of their aftershocks began to fade, leaving them both calmer and more composed. They moved slowly, helping each other sit upright as they prepared to dress. Their movements were tender and unhurried, an unspoken bond evident in the way Giselle steadied Ningning, offering a guiding hand whenever her balance wavered.

Once they were dressed, they turned to you one last time. Giselle, still steady and confident, spoke first. “Thank you again—for everything. This was… more than we could have imagined.” Her expression was filled with warmth, and she nodded firmly, as if solidifying the memory.

Ningning, though still leaning slightly against Giselle for support, managed a soft smile. Her nod came slower, her dazed eyes meeting yours briefly before her gaze drifted downward, her exhaustion still evident. “Thank you,” she repeated, her voice quiet but filled with sincerity.

You returned their smiles, your tone professional but warm. “You were both wonderful to work with. I hope you’ll consider coming back in the future. It’s been an absolute pleasure guiding you through this experience.”

Giselle nodded eagerly, her smile widening. “Absolutely,” she said, her enthusiasm clear. Ningning followed with a slower, smaller nod, her lingering haze making her response quieter but no less heartfelt.

You glanced toward the facilities with a small apologetic shrug. “Unfortunately, the shower is unavailable tonight. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Giselle waved the comment off with a laugh, her arm tightening around Ningning’s waist as they leaned into each other. “It’s okay,” she said lightly. “I think we’re good.”

Ningning hummed softly in agreement, her head resting against Giselle’s shoulder as they made their way toward the exit. Their steps were slow, their bodies leaning heavily on one another for support, but there was no mistaking the contentment in their shared posture. As they passed through the doorway, arm in arm, their laughter and whispered words faded into the distance, leaving behind an air of fulfilled intimacy and a bond that would linger long after the night ended.

The cool night air embraced them as they stepped outside, a stark contrast to the heat and intensity of the room they had just left. The crisp breeze kissed their flushed skin, sending a shiver through their bodies that brought a hint of grounding. Yet, despite the coolness of the air, the warmth of what had just transpired lingered, leaving their minds spinning.

Ningning clung to Giselle’s arm as they walked, her steps unsteady and her legs trembling beneath her. Her face was still flushed, her breath uneven, and her eyes dazed as if she were trying to process what had happened. Giselle, steadier but no less affected, kept an arm wrapped securely around Ningning’s waist, her own body swaying slightly with each step as they leaned on one another for support.

“I…” Ningning’s voice came out soft and trembling, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “I can’t believe we actually… squirted.” She blinked slowly, her wide eyes darting to Giselle, her words trailing off into the cool night air. “Not just once—but twice.” Her cheeks flushed even deeper as she said it, the disbelief thick in her tone. “For real. That actually happened.”

Giselle let out a breathy laugh, her lips curving into a dreamy smile. “Me neither,” she admitted, shaking her head as if to clear it. Her voice softened, her gaze distant as her words slowed. “That… that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Hands down.” She glanced at Ningning, her smile widening as a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “I don’t even know how to describe it—it was just… perfect.”

Ningning nodded, though her movements were sluggish, her body still trembling faintly. “Same,” she whispered, her voice hurried but tinged with awe. “I didn’t even know my body could… do that.” She let out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping Giselle’s sleeve for balance. 

They both laughed, the sound light and filled with a mixture of disbelief and wonder. Giselle tightened her arm around Ningning, steadying her as their legs wobbled slightly beneath them. The intimacy of what they had shared was palpable, creating a bond that felt unshakable, as if the experience had fused something deeper between them. Words felt almost unnecessary; the shared memory spoke volumes.

As they strolled down the dimly lit street, their earlier laughter began to fade, replaced by a contemplative silence. The golden glow of the streetlights bathed the path ahead, casting long, swaying shadows that moved in rhythm with their steps. Giselle crossed her arms tightly against her chest, bracing herself against the crisp night air seeping through her clothes. Despite the chill, her expression remained soft, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Beside her, Ningning adjusted her jacket with slow, fumbling hands, her flushed cheeks and unfocused gaze revealing her preoccupation. Flashes of the evening seemed to replay behind her eyes, each memory drawing her further into her own quiet reflection.

When they reached the corner of their block, their synchronized footsteps faltered. They both froze, their gazes snapping to the opposite side of the street. Emerging from the shadows under the muted glow of the next streetlight were two familiar figures: Karina and Yunjin.

Instinctively, Giselle and Ningning moved closer to the edge of the sidewalk, their eyes locked onto the pair. Karina and Yunjin’s presence felt almost surreal. The two moved in unison, their steps light and easy, their laughter floating softly into the quiet night. Yunjin leaned into Karina’s side, her arm looped loosely around her, her expression radiating a confident ease. Karina’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile as Yunjin whispered something that made her chuckle softly, their connection palpable even from a distance.

The direction of their path, however, was unmistakable. They were headed toward the same discreet entrance Giselle and Ningning had only just left. The heavy door loomed in the distance, barely noticeable to anyone unfamiliar, yet its significance was impossible to ignore.

Frozen in place, Giselle and Ningning exchanged a quick, wide-eyed glance, their unspoken thoughts mirrored in each other’s faces. They stood in silence, their breathing shallow, as Karina and Yunjin slipped through the door. The soft click of it closing behind them echoed in the stillness, as though punctuating a realization neither of them wanted to put into words.

No words were necessary. In that shared glance between them, everything was understood: the disbelief, the reluctant acceptance, and the strange comfort of knowing their personal experience wasn’t as unique as they had thought. Whatever had drawn them there clearly extended beyond their own curiosity—a thread of something universal, intimate, and quietly thrilling.

Without speaking, they turned and resumed their walk, their steps slower now, their pace deliberate as the surreal encounter lingered between them. The air seemed heavier, their thoughts weaving unspoken questions and answers into the night.

The faint sound of their laughter returned after a while, but it was softer, tinged with awe and a touch of disbelief. They moved in step with each other, letting the moment settle as they headed home, the night leaving its quiet mark on their still-racing minds.

-----

When they arrived back at the apartment, the faint glow from the living room spilled into the hallway. Giselle hesitated at the door, her fingers trembling slightly as she unlocked it. Ningning shifted beside her, her legs wobbly and her cheeks still flushed, mirroring Giselle’s expression. They exchanged a glance—nervous, uncertain, and still overwhelmed—before stepping inside.

Minjeong was lounging on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her and a tub of ice cream balanced on one knee. At the sound of the door, she looked up casually, her expression neutral for a moment before a slow, knowing smile crept across her face. She set the ice cream aside, tilting her head as her gaze swept over Giselle and Ningning.

Their clothes were rumpled, unevenly tucked, and their hair was a mess, clinging to their damp foreheads. A faint sheen of sweat still glimmered on their flushed skin, paired with the heavy, unmistakable scent of musk and arousal clinging to them. It was all the confirmation Minjeong needed.

“Well, well,” she said, leaning back into the couch and crossing her arms. “Look who’s back.”

Giselle froze, her eyes darting anywhere but at Minjeong’s smug expression as she clumsily shrugged off her jacket. Ningning fidgeted beside her, wringing the hem of her shirt with trembling hands, her blush deepening by the second. The air between them felt heavy, suffused with the weight of shared secrets.

Minjeong’s smirk widened, her tone playful but dripping with amusement. “So,” she began, letting the word hang tantalizingly in the air, “do you believe me now?”

The question hit like a challenge, undeniable and loaded. Ningning blinked rapidly, her flush spreading all the way to her ears as she stammered, “I… uh… what?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

Minjeong raised her eyebrows, clearly savoring every second of their discomfort. “The squirting thing,” she said with a casual shrug. “Do you believe me now, or should I assume you two just fell into a puddle on the way home?”

Giselle groaned loudly, slapping her hands over her face. “Oh my God,” she muttered through her fingers. “We’re not doing this.”

“Oh, but we are,” Minjeong replied smoothly, sitting up straighter as she gestured at them. “Look at yourselves. I’m pretty sure half the apartment can smell exactly where you’ve been.” She waved a hand in front of her nose with mock drama. “Seriously, go take a shower before you stink up the place.”

Ningning let out a breathy, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck as if she could physically brush off the embarrassment. “Fine, okay,” she admitted, her voice tinged with defeat. “You were right.”

Minjeong leaned back, her smug expression only growing. “Damn, I love being right.” She grabbed her spoon again, pointing it between them for emphasis. “And for the record, you two look way worse than I ever did. Way worse.”

Giselle opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, but one glance at Ningning’s equally disheveled state made her snap it shut with a resigned groan. “Okay, fine,” she muttered. “We get it.”

“So?” Minjeong continued, her voice light but probing. She looked back and forth between them, her amusement palpable.

Giselle and Ningning exchanged a look, their faces still burning from the intensity of Minjeong’s scrutiny. Finally, Giselle sighed heavily, her tone a mix of exasperation and reluctant awe. “It was… insane.”

“Amazing,” Ningning added softly, her voice almost reverent. “But absolutely insane.”

Minjeong chuckled, digging her spoon into the ice cream as she watched them shuffle awkwardly toward the hallway. “Thought so,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “Now go before you stink up the place.”

Giselle rolled her eyes, dragging Ningning along. “We’re going,” she grumbled over her shoulder. “And stop being so smug.”

The bathroom door clicked shut, and Minjeong leaned back against the couch, her smirk softening into a faint grin. “Told them,” she muttered to herself, taking another bite of ice cream as her eyes glinted with satisfaction.

-----

After their showers, Giselle and Ningning returned to the living room, collapsing onto the couch beside Minjeong. The TV murmured softly in the background as they all sat in comfortable silence, Giselle and Ningning still recovering from their experience. Minjeong barely glanced up from her mug of tea that she had replaced the ice-cream with, her smirk faint but ever-present.

A couple hours passed quietly, the three of them lounging in the warm, cozy space, the tension of the evening fading into the background.

Then the front door creaked open.

They all turned to look. Karina stepped inside, and the sight of her left them speechless. She looked utterly ravaged, as though every ounce of energy had been drained from her in the most unrestrained way. Her heels dangled limply from one hand, the straps swinging with her unsteady steps as her bare feet padded softly on the floor. Her mascara was streaked down her flushed cheeks, evidence of tears shed not from pain but from overwhelming sensation. Her lips were swollen, parted as she panted softly, her chest rising and falling in deep, labored breaths that made her shirt cling to her damp skin.

Her shirt was disheveled, one sleeve slipping halfway off her shoulder and exposing the curve of her flushed skin. The fabric bunched awkwardly around her midsection, twisted as though it had been yanked and tugged in the heat of the moment. The absence of a bra was glaringly obvious; her hardened nipples pressed against the thin material, betraying her sensitivity and the cool air that kissed her overheated body.

Her neck was scattered with marks—dark, blooming hickeys and faint, precise bites painting a vivid, unspoken story from just beneath her jawline to the delicate curve of her collarbone. Among them, faint but undeniable, was the ghostly imprint of a hand—its shape outlined in a faint redness across her throat, a testament to moments of raw, restrained intensity. The marks deepened in color toward her shoulders, a testament to the passion and force of the encounter. Her hair was a wild mess, tousled and damp with sweat, clinging in strands to her forehead and neck. A few stray locks stuck to her temple, framing her flushed face like a halo gone astray.

Her skirt, barely hanging on, was wrinkled and skewed, riding up on one side to reveal the faint imprint of fingers along her thighs where she'd been gripped firmly. The fabric clung to her hips as though it, too, had been caught in the chaos. A thin sheen of sweat coated her glistening skin, catching the light and accentuating the sharp curve of her hip bones and the subtle tremble of her legs as she took another step.

Karina’s lips twitched into a lazy, self-satisfied smile as she leaned lightly against the doorframe. Her eyes, half-lidded and glossy, carried the unmistakable glow of someone thoroughly and unapologetically satisfied. Despite her thoroughly wrecked appearance, she exuded confidence, her posture unbothered even as her body showed every sign of having been pushed to its absolute limit.

Minjeong, still leaning comfortably against the couch cushions, raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she took in the sight. “You good?”

Karina let out a breathy laugh, running a hand through her tangled hair, her voice husky and dripping with contentment. “Never better,” she replied, not even trying to straighten her clothes or clean herself up.

Karina’s lazy smile widened as her gaze flicked over to Giselle and Ningning, both of whom froze under her gaze. Tilting her head slightly, she drawled, “What happened to just experiencing, huh? All I could taste was the two of you the entire time I was with him.”

Giselle’s mouth opened, but only a strangled sound escaped. “I-I… we… it wasn’t—” Her hands flailed slightly before she dropped her head into her hands, groaning in embarrassment.

Ningning wasn’t any better, her face turning an impossibly deeper shade of red as she stammered, “It’s not… we didn’t mean to—ah, oh my God.”

Minjeong, sitting cross-legged on the couch, looked back and forth between them, her brow furrowing. “Wait… what? Taste what? What’s going on?”

Giselle and Ningning didn’t answer, too busy sinking into the couch cushions, their faces buried in their hands as they tried to suppress their embarrassment. Karina, clearly pleased with the chaos she’d left behind, simply chuckled and disappeared down the hallway, her door clicking shut behind her.

Minjeong blinked at the scene, utterly baffled. “Am I missing something?”

No one answered. The silence, filled with mortified tension, hung in the air as Ningning and Giselle continued to avoid Minjeong’s questioning gaze, their faces buried in their hands.

Minjeong raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning as realization began to dawn. “You know, I’d ask again, but I think I already have my answer,” she teased, her voice laced with amusement.

Ningning stammered, “I-It’s not like that!” but her words dissolved into incoherent mumbling as she slumped further into the couch. Beside her, Giselle shook her head rapidly, muttering something incomprehensible, her face still hidden in her hands.

Minjeong chuckled, leaning back with a satisfied grin as she grabbed her tea. “Right. Not like that. Sure. Whatever you say.”

Her casual tone only seemed to make things worse. Ningning shot Giselle a desperate look, silently begging her to do something, but Giselle merely groaned louder, sinking even deeper into the cushions as if trying to vanish.

The apartment settled into uneasy quiet, the faint sound of the TV providing a backdrop to the heavy tension. Minjeong took a sip of her tea, her expression smug as she glanced at the other two. The warmth in the room was palpable—tinged with shared embarrassment, reluctant amusement, and an unspoken agreement that this would not come up again.

At least, not anytime soon.

[a-shade-of-blue]

Urgent: Help Mahmoud's 17 Family Members Escape from Frequent Bombings!

Hi everyone. Mahmoud (@mahmoudfamily1) is trying to raise fund to evacuate 17 members of his family (including no fewer than 5 children!), and he has asked me to share his story.

Mahmoud found out the bombing of her sister Tasnim’s husband’s house, the house his entire family was staying at, on the news. He could not contact his family for 3 days after that. He knew that several people had died and several more injured, but he did not know whom among his family survived, and who didn’t.

When he finally managed to reach them, he found out that a close relative, named Alaa, had been killed, along with her children: Ahmed and baby Iman who was not even one month old yet. Alaa was a beloved member of their family. She was optimistic and tried hard to cheer everyone else up. For the longest time, Alaa believed that the world would not turn away from their suffering and the war would end soon. But an airstrike took her and her children’s lives, the bombing continued, and the world remains indifferent.

Mahmoud’s sister Tasnim, was severely injured in the bombing. The attack happened while the family was sleeping, and Tasnim woke up to find her body injured and broken, bleeding heavily with bones sticking out of her leg. She found her 6-month-old daughter under the rubble, severely injured, but thankfully still alive. Tasnim's leg was fractured in multiple places, so severely injured that they all thought it had to be amputated. Tasnim’s husband and her 6-month-old daughter, her father-in-law, her brothers-in-law and Alaa’s husband were all severely injured by the bombing.

A few days later, Mahmoud’s family narrowly survived a second bombing on the street, as the people behind them, too slow to escape from the attack, were killed. They hid in their car, watching the plane flying above dropping bombs, praying that it would not target their car.

Given Tasnim and her 6-month-old daughter’s severe injuries, the family used a lot of money and exhausted all means to get them out of Gaza to receive the essential medical treatment they require. While Tasnim and her youngest daughter managed to evacuate, the rest of Mahmoud’s 17 family members, including Tasnim’s 2-year-old daughter who sustained first degree burns from the bombing, are still trapped in Gaza.

Mahmoud’s 17 family members (including no fewer than 5 children!) risk being killed and injured from the frequent airstrikes every day. They have narrowly escaped death no fewer than 5 times. On 31 August, the IOF dropped bombs on the tent next to theirs, killing 9 young men and women, and Mahmoud’s family woke up to their broken bodies.

Look at the photos Mahmoud sent me. These children, they are all trapped in Gaza where bombs may fall on them anytime. Please do not look away. Please help Mahmoud’s 17 family members reach safety!!

Mahmoud’s campaign is vetted by association. Mahmoud is @hazempalestine's friend, see post here for proof. @hazempalestine is vetted by @/el-shab-hussein and is listed as #281 on the verified fundraiser list by @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi.

I’ve been trying to boost Hazem’s campaign, but we are both worried about Mahmoud’s campaign as donations are coming in really slowly for him. I hope you will support Mahmoud’s campaign and help him evacuate his 17 family members as well!

Extremely Low Funds! As of 3 September, Only $147 CAD raised of $80,000 goal! Last donation was 19 hours ago!!!

Please follow Mahmoud on @mahmoudfamily1 to get updates on his family's situation! And also, please, please, share/reblog, and donate if you can! Every donation helps!!

[jk-kiwi]

Warmth of December

Warmth of December (18+) Characters - Sergeant JK x Y/N reader (woman) Genre - slow burn (?), strangers to lovers, basically everything is war themed, the story takes place in old time but is not an accurate representation of real life events, pretty much an old mentality on how things should be and about how people should act, THIS is fiction.  

Summary - Everyone wants a chance at freedom once a brutal war starts taking place, this also means that taking risks and dangerous paths is part of it. But what would you do when a chance for survival appears before you? Will you reach out and take it? Warnings - war stuff (blood, death, mentions bad things done to women, weapons and fights, etc.), angst, drama, fluff, fictional characters, 5 years age gap (20/25), older Jk, suggestive/smut, Jk is kinda cocky/arrogant and sometimes a jerk, he gets better after a while and becomes a total sweetheart, Jk hits a women once (not you), mentions of enslavement, women are kinda treated like objects that have no function other than being obedient housewives that must listen to their husband, mention of chastity/virginity, a lot of mixed feelings, slight aggression towards the reader, mentions of pregnancy.

MINORS PLEASE STAY AWAY! Warnings for the not so holy parts (18+) - they get naked in front of each other without doing it, mentions of soft and hard manhood as well as female parts, reader is inexperienced, they take things slow at first, it’s consensual, I won’t detail what I’m about to write because I’m embarrassed so read at your own risk, no heavy/crazy stuff though I think, they do it 3 times along the story (once outside), has some other suggestive parts. X<

Author’s note - Y/L/N Y/N stands for your first and last name. Also, NEVER in my life have I written smut, first time so don’t come for me if it’s bad, please. BTW It’s been a while since I’ve written something, this is also the longest one I've ever wrote till now. If there are any mistakes please let me know!

Enjoy!  Word count - 19k

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

30 August 1955

“Keep quiet!” Poor heart beating out of your chest.

Step by step and you were almost out of this hell hole. You started clenching your long skirt tighter while the other three girls were following tightly through the thick blanket of rusty leaves. Escaping through the forest was not an easy task, especially for young women and since this damned war has started, more and more people seek liberty and justice. 

But it’s not that easy to seek freedom.

Around every corner you can find soldiers waiting to attack, and once you get caught by one of them, it’s game over. Dragged in a hidden place, if not taken right there and then for their own sick pleasure, losing all hope of a good life and just succumbing to the dark and shameful path you will have to live, if they pity you enough to let you do so.  

Every person wants a chance at freedom after all, right?  And because of this you are forced to take the risk. Either make it safe over the border, through the woods and get to a small town where you can start your life all over, or fall into the hands of the devil himself.  “I’m scared…” The youngest one of us, Mai, says, tears pooling in her eyes. At only 16 years old she’s forced to take such harsh decisions in order to gain safety. 

“Calm down, if you make too much noise we will get caught, that’s what you should be truly scared about.” Yun-Mi tries to reassure her, hoping she will calm down and not get us in trouble. With cold hands you push the bushes in front of our faces and look over to the hill we have to go across. Over the sun covered land we can see the thick border of trees, that’s it! That’s the last part we have to cross. After days of hiding and countless sleepless nights of looking around, we have finally made it.

”That’s it, right Y/N? That’s the border.” Jia, the oldest one exclaims in eagerness. “Yes, after that…we are finally free.” You can say, slight uneasiness crawling into your head, almost like you could predict something bad was going to happen. The three girls smile and hug each other, happy that they finally can get away from what the war has brought. “Let’s go then, what are we waiting for?!”

Oh, only if it was that easy. Perhaps this was the hardest part of all, beside the fact that this area was the most watched over because many attempted to cross over, the emptiness of the hill made the perfect chance of being spotted.

“Let’s go by the tree line, it’s much safer.” With a plan set, You try to take the lead.

Safe to say, the place looked deserted, the sun was almost setting and the only thing you could hear was the gentle sound of the wind. It was dangerous, luring people with its quiet demeanor, thinking you are safe until you wake up on the ground with a gushing gunshot wound and one or more soldiers on top of your body. With slow and steady steps the four of you go along the tree line, skirts raised above the knee level. If the nuns at church you used to live all these years would see, they for sure would pass out. 

“It seems clear.” Jia point’s out, looking around. And so you thought, until your head turned to look through the thick tree trunks, scanning the area below. In a split second making eye contact with a guy who was down at the river, he was watching you. 

Your blood ran cold, his head turned sideways, almost confused like, wondering if his mind was playing tricks. But when you saw him take his rifle out looking through the scope to confirm that what was happening was, in fact, the horrifying truth you will be living. “Get on the ground.” You managed to mutter when you saw him signal to someone while taking better aim, a horrifying grin spread across his face. 

“What?” The others ask. Your cold hands grab Mai by the shoulder, pulling her down with you, while yelling at the other two. “Get on the ground, now!” With your head down the only thing you could hear was a deafening shot. Looking back you see Jia holding her arm, bright red liquid staining the white fabric of her dress. All four of you fall to the ground, screaming and crying, finally grasping the situation. 

You try to keep composure, to look for a place to hide, but you were like a lost bunny that just fell into their prey's trap.

Dragging Mai away, Yun-Mi helping Jia follow, even though she screamed in pain and wiggled in shock. Looking around you try to find the best spot to hide, already hearing their footsteps getting closer. Still, you had some time to try and get away. 

“There!” you point at the overgrown bushes and piles of dead leaves and branches. They for sure will think you ran away and not look through the debris. So you get close, Yun-Mi stuffs Jia’s mouth with her apron to try to stop her screaming. 

“Keep quiet! They're going to catch us!” she manages to whisper, the girl nods and swallows the fear and pain she feels knowing this is the only chance for survival. And then you see one, pretty tall and muscular, a dark green hat covering his eyes, weapon in hand looking ready to strike anytime, clearly a soldier. Close to him another wonders, looking around cautiously trying to think of your steps.

You cuddle closer, hiding away in the leaves, eyes shutting tight holding your breaths. 

The two boys go down the path, while a surprising third goes up the hill towards the borders to check. That’s it, that’s our end. Knowing you are close they will continue to search until they find you, and then, God forbid, what’s going to happen. You try to think of a strategy, head running wild with possible solutions, in your madness I barely notice Yun-Mi’s hand tagging lightly on your skirt. “Y/N…” she whispers and then gulps. And so you open your eyes to see another pair in front, big and dark eyes scanning you like a predator. You reach under your dirty apron and slowly pull out the emergency knife you carried all this way, pointing it in his direction. He chuckles and tilts his head, amused by your bold reaction.

“Leave us alone!” You say, seeing his tongue pushing the inside of his cheek, his gaze still curious, but instead of doing something the only thing does is look around for his mates. 

That’s our chance! 

In an instant you try to launch at him and hit with the knife. With one hand he catches your arm, making the knife hit the ground. 

You wince in pain and he does not stop his actions, one of his knees presses over the knife while he maneuvers you around, your face hitting the ground roughly. 

You try to resist, but he catches your other hand and straddles your back making you unable to move under his heavy weight. 

“Get away from her!” Mai tries to come closer to hit him but his hands are quick, taking his pistol and pointing in her direction. “Have any other surprises left in you, pretty girl?” He says, hands starting to wander under my apron searching for other potential weapons making you feel disgusted. 

Though in fear, Yun-Mi drags her shaking body over, begging the man on her knees, her voice soft. “Please, I beg you, let her go!” The others crying too, probably aware of what was about to happen, seeing their fate being sealed through what was happening to you. “I have no intention of doing that, but I must say, you are some brave girls. Going around all this road for a chance to escape, on your own? No other man? Just four young girls.” He laughs a little, chilling your bones.

“Must say you have a lot of balls. You know what happens to people like you, right? If not, then I can only warn…not nice things.” He rises a bit, letting go of your arms, pistol pointed at the back of your head.

“Turn around, I want to see your face.” You obey and turn around, the man still on top of you, his eyes boring along your body making you avoid his gaze.

“Hmm, not bad. How old are you? 18, 19?” Rough hand comes in contact with your face wiping the debris that got stuck before gripping at your jaw, turning your head to look at him.

“I asked you a question, therefore you should respond. Aren’t you in a bad position? Why are you making stuff harder for yourself?”. “I’ve just turned 20.” You spit through clenched teeth.  

He hums, seeming satisfied with the response. In a flash he gets off of you, putting his pistol back in his carrier, taking the knife from the grass. Quick footsteps being heard in the distance. 

“Sergeant! Have you found them?! We lost track!” An older guy approaches you. “Yes, four of them, pretty young. All girls by the way.” He says boringly. 

“Oh my! They really are pretty. What a delight.” Three other guys gather from behind, eyes praying over you, their faces plastered with sinister grins. “So, what do we do with them, sergeant?” asks another impatiently, hoping to get a green card for some potential hideous actions. The guy who found you, despite his appearance, looked to be the youngest, but also seems to be the leader. 

His body was pretty muscular, black hair almost covering his eyes, one of his hands covered in tattoos. He looked at you and caught your gaze again. You can see how his hand dips in his military jacket, searching for something before responding to his mates. 

“To be honest, we should follow the rules, right? All that are caught are enslaved, no other funny businesses." The three whine but obey his orders. 

His body crouches to your level, putting the knife under your chin making you gasp and close your eyes.”But I feel a little pleased with today's catch. To see such young women trying to fight for their lives in such a brutal world, tsk tsk, truly a pity.” He pushes the knife upwards, making you tilt your head with it. 

“Who wants to live from here?” He says delighted, devious plan coming together in his mind. 

Is he a sadist or what? Playing with your feelings for his own pleasure, enjoying seeing you suffer and making you beg for him to let you live?

The three girls start begging, even Jia, who’s body became pale from all the blood loss, raises her hands to pray for forgiveness in front of the soldiers. So you do what seems the best option, you wrap your hands around his one that holds the knife, pressing lightly, but enough feeling a warm droplet of blood drip down. “Would you look at that?” He doesn't even flinch, but you could see his muscles contracting in trying to hold the knife steady. “Let go. Do you want to die?” His face was stern, but amusement was growing behind his facade. “Yes, I would rather die than get dragged to who knows where, letting man touch and spoil me over and over like a slut! I refuse to go to that hell, so kill me!”

He snatches the knife away, your head hitting his knee from lack of balance. You could hear his laugh seeing how pathetic you are in front of him. “You know…I really like you, very bold.” He gets up from the ground, his hand throws the thing he searched from under his jacket in your lap. You take it in your hands, it was a cold, shiny and silvery tag. It reads “Sergeant” on one side, with a few stars engraved showing his status, on the other side it’s only what I can figure it’s his name “Jeon Jungkook”. You look up at him, hands holding the cold chain, already knowing what it meant. He smiles cockily at you.

“Congratulations! I think you can call yourself a lucky lady, you know. If you think the place I was supposed to shove you was hell, then what can I say baby, I guess I just brought you back to heaven.” He says delightedly, before signaling his man to take your friends. 

You can hear them screaming and crying, trying desperately to free the grip these devils had on them. You bow your head down, refusing to witness the grotesque scene unfolding in front of your eyes. Jungkook comes over and with one arm he snatches you from the ground. “You need to wear it sweetheart, people will grow suspicious otherwise.” He puts the necklace over your head, sealing your faith as well. “Let’s go.” He says while dragging you with him, from now on his property to mess with. You tried to feel even in the slightest relieved, you were given a chance at a new life after all, right? 

The silver military pendant is only given as a token of proof for married women with high military men, showing their status and letting others know not to mess with them. But why did this feel different? Why you?

“I should be happier.”, that’s what you told yourself…happier that you lost your friends? Or that you are at the hand of such a man, someone you don’t know, that could use you like a puppet whenever he wants? 

You should've just taken the chance and stabbed yourself right there and then, only if you weren't such a coward. In the end, you just followed him around like a lost puppy, letting him drag you where he wanted, your body and soul now his to play with. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Shortly you two arrived at what seems to be a military camp, night already setting in. Your friends, nowhere to be found. 

The guy presumably named Jungkook took you to one of the tents, his by the looks of it. 

“We will leave tomorrow morning, I will show you where to wash up and I will bring you some clothes to wear.” He took off his jacket and boots laying back on the singular bed while you stayed close to the entrance, like a lost lamb. “Why are you doing this to me?” You ask quietly, breaking the silence, your eyes staring at the ground. Jungkook only sighed, didn't even bother to look your way. “You said you don’t want to go there, didn’t you? I fulfilled your wishes so be happy. You are not there, are you?” You didn’t know what to say or do, why did he even want to do this in the first place, it didn’t make any sense. “It does not make sense to me. Do you save all types of girls this way? If so, why not my friends too.” Now his attention was full on you, he sat up and looked at your figure. 

“Are you always such a pain? You got it better than the others, I gave you my tag, you get to marry a high rank military man, everyone is happy!” 

I scoff “I am not! I don’t understand your reasoning in wanting to marry me in the first place, I am just a low commoner that is basically a run-away! Why did you decide to save me and where did your men take my friends!” I ask authoritatively.  Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. “You really are a pain! If I knew I would’ve never taken you, maybe the crybaby would’ve been better.” He mutters the last part, but you hear it anyway. “I don’t need a reason to do this, I just wanted to. End of discussion.” He says making you look away annoyed. 

You see him get up, his body coming closer to yours. 

“Also, you better not tell a soul about this. If they ask, I just found you in a village and took you over because I fell in love with you, understood?” His presence was scary all of a sudden. Tall frame hovering over yours, dark eyes staring dangerously. 

“I saved you, so you owe me. If you say you wanted to cross the border and I took you in out of pity, or anything else that will bring trouble to me…then I will not hesitate to send you to a place worse than hell itself.”

You gulped even though your throat felt dry, he was intimidating.

“Those girls are not your friends anymore, we don’t speak of them, and if you want to live good then you follow what I say and are obedient to my words, understood?” His hand comes over to grab your cheek, not as rough as before, but with much more authority. You can only comply under his underwhelming presence. 

“Understood…” And with that he grabs your hand and a set of clothes, taking you to where the shower area is. 

… “So what do you think, prestigious?” He asks while you look around scanning the area. It was not much, but decent enough. It felt more like a communal shower than the prestigious luxury he was talking about. A simple room with a few shower heads and walls for a bit of privacy.

“You can shower wherever, the water is a little cold, but it’s still August, you should be fine.” And so you go behind the wall, slowly starting to undress. That is until you hear a whistle from behind the wall. 

“Why are you still here?!” You ask in horror only to make him laugh in response, already enjoying the situation. “I can’t let you THAT alone, what if you run away?”. “Don’t worry though, I promise I won’t peek, I’ll have all the time in the world to gush over your body.” He says suavely, making you gasp 

“I can’t do this like that! I am a woman after all, what about my chastity? Have a little decency!” You say in rage “And how can you even say such lewd words!”

“Relax, I will just stay here. I won’t just barge in like an animal. Plus isn’t it better? What if someone else decides to come and shower? You’ll be my wife soon, I will have to carve their eyes out if they see it before I do.” You were disgusted to say the least, such unscrupulous man. You sigh and with the little patience you had you decided that maybe it was for the best and just went with it. Jungkook seemed to keep his promise, every now and then your head peeking to look at what was he doing. 

He was leaning on the wall, arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed, he seemed tired. The peace around you was nice, but part of you was also longing for some discussion. 

After all, he was the first person to talk after all this time, of course, other than your now “not to speak of” friends. 

So you decided to break that silence and try to get to know him a little. “So, I should get to know you a little, I think.” Jungkook only hummed. “Jeon Jungkook is your name, as I recall from the tag, also a sergeant?” 

“Yup, I am him in flesh and bones.” “How old are you?” “24, 25 soon.” He was pretty stiff with his answers, but at least you hoped he responded honestly to your questions. 

You tried to think of some more stuff to ask, but Jungkook beat you to it. “How about you, I responded to all your questions, but I don’t even know your name.” “My name is Y/L/N Y/N” you tell him. “Pretty name.” He adds.

“So…Y/N, where are you from and why did you decide on doing these things?” You close the water and grab the towel Jungkook prepared. 

Sitting deep in thoughts while drying your hair, the bathroom became quiet.

 “It’s fine if you don’t want to say, I was just curious.” You can hear him taking a big breath of air before his steps start taking towards the door, he was leaving. “From a small village in the south.” You bluntly say, making the man stop in his tracks, his back facing you.

“I don’t have a family if you’re wondering, I grew up in the church. I wanted a better life since there was only misery there, that’s why I left.” 

You see the boy turn around, his eyes scanning your body, only wrapped in the towel, small droplets of water falling from your hair to the ground.

“It’s not polite to look at a girl like this, I didn’t wear my clothes yet so please just turn back around.” Embarrassment and shyness take over when you feel his deep stare, never being watched as exposed as now. 

He complies however, turning his body around, staying in front of the door, almost looking like he’s guarding it. 

“I see, so you are a church girl.” He snickers “I figured since I’ve seen you for the first time, the clothes gave it away pretty well, not to mention you look scared every time I get an inch closer.” “Is that a bad thing?” You ask. 

“Nope. Just so you know, I’m not exactly into practicing stuff like this, does not match my personality.” He says before exiting. Letting you put on some clothes, most probably his.

“How did you become a sergeant at such young age?” You cautiously ask him while going back to the tent. “My dad is the general of the east side of the army, I worked hard to match his steps, but in the end I got stuck as a sergeant and was given my pluton.” 

The man opened the tent to let you enter, him following right after. 

“How are you not married yet? Especially having such a function and family, aren’t girls throwing themselves at you at any given chance?” Your bold question takes him by surprise.

“You became even bolder I see, already asking me personal stuff? Are you worried I have a wife and kids at home?” He asks cockily, making you look back at him with wide eyes.

Sure you have your doubts, but your thoughts were still pure, asking just to get to know him better. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think my question was intrusive. I wasn’t under any means doubting you!” I rush to say, my cheeks heating up making him chuckle again. 

“Don’t be so stiff, sugar. I was just playing around. Plus, you have the tag, don’t you, so no other women are involved.” He closes the tent behind him, inside only the small oil lamp give in some light.

Without care he starts pulling at his t-shirt, leaving his upper body exposed in your sight.  

Your eyes go wide, cheeks brighter than they were already, your hands fly up to cover up your vision. “Oh my lord! Have some decency, I am also here!” 

In the end you close your eyes and turn your back to him. However, when you can feel his muscular chest stick to your back you stiffen up. 

He leans down, his breath gently caressing your neck. “I wonder what are you going to do after we get married? Hide around and let me play catch with you, little one?” You gulp down, pressing your legs to the nightstand in front of you, his hands come from behind resting on the wooden surface, your face pure red now.

“You know…you’ll have duties to take care of as a wife, I am a man after all, I have my needs.” His lips brush ever so slightly to the side of your neck, leaving a lingering feeling on your soft skin. You never felt like this before.

“Jungkook…please...” You breathlessly say while trying to get away from his hot embrace. But he only chuckles once again getting away from you. 

You can’t turn around, eyes fixed on the back of your hands while you can hear him taking his shirt on again and searching for a new set to wear. “I’ll go wash up too, go to sleep and don’t think of running away. This is my camp, I’ll find you.” 

And so he leaves. With shaky legs you lay on his bed. It smelled manly, a little bit like the forest, but it also had a sweet scent to it. Soon you get engulfed by the peace and quiet around, finally falling asleep in the comfort of his scent. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you woke up in the morning, Jungkook wasn't there. You can’t recall him entering the tent after he left for the shower nor getting close to you again. But soon enough his footsteps enter the confined space making you sit up. 

“Slept well?” He asked while starting to gather his stuff, putting everything into a big wood box. You just stared at him blankly trying to process everything happening. 

“I asked if you slept well, sugar.” That damned nickname again. “Yeah, I guess you could say so, better than caves and leaf beds.” He hums, pleased. “Then we should get going, people are waiting for us back in the city.” He throws next to you what seems to be your clothes, now washed and dried overnight.

You go out after you’re done and with Jungkook’s help you step for the first time in a car. 

You can see some men get in the front seats while others help boarding up all types of boxes and gear.

“Do we leave for good?” I ask looking outside the window “Do you want to live in the forest?” He says mockingly. “When I said you were lucky it wasn’t a joke, today we are supposed to swap places with another pluton, if you were to cross today, your fate wouldn’t be as lucky.” 

You didn’t know what to say after that, part of you wanted to let Jungkook know you are at least a little thankful for his acts, but your mind drifts to the thoughts of Mai, Yun-Mi and Jia. You hope they are safe.

Jungkook forbade you to talk about them, telling you that his man won’t dare to stand in front of him, let alone say something about what happened. And safe to say he ensured that if you were smart enough you would live a peaceful and decent life by his side, outside of ruins and misery. … Entering the city you were slightly mesmerized, it was not of luxury, but at least it wasn’t run down or bombarded like the place you came from. 

You stopped after a long ride in front of a pretty big house, with a beautiful front garden and even a fountain and a swing on the side. 

“We are here” Jungkook said, getting out of the car and helping you out, once again, showing a warmer side to you. “What is this place?” You asked, looking around, trying to take in every detail. 

“It’s my family’s house, let’s get inside.” But before you could take on, a lady’s screams could be heard.

“Jungkook, my days, you’re back!” The lady, looking young as well, with long and black hair flowing down her shoulders, beautiful clothes and even well done make-up jumped in his arms, hugging him tight, her lips coming in contact with his cheek.

“Hey! Long time no see!” Jungkook hugged back, bright smile on his face, and for the first time you felt weird, almost…small like. 

Yes, you only knew him for a day, but the fact that he wants to marry you out of the blue yet he’s having women jump him right when he arrives home makes you feel just a little strange, like you didn’t fit in the picture. “I thought you weren't coming back this month at how long it took! Did you eat well? You seem a little thinner than last time I saw you.” The woman lets go of him with one arm, starting to feel around his biceps for any muscle loss. Jungkook smiles even more, his head bowing a little, letting a giggle out. “I’m fine, Yuna, just tough business getting the best of me.” The girl named Yuna seems to finally notice your awkward presence, she tilts her head, eyes locking into yours, her smile disappearing quickly. “Who is she?” 

Finally the two part ways and Jungkook remembers that he also brought you along. “A shit, yes, I almost forgot.” He clears his throat scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

Coming closer he is taking your hand in his. “Yuna, this is Y/N.” 

His hand brushes over your shoulder coming in contact with the metal chain that rests on the base of your neck, pulling from under your ragged clothes his military tag. 

Yuna’s eyes widen when she sees you wearing his necklace, her body stiffening. You can’t help but feel like an intruder under her burning gaze. She tries to put on a smile, forced by any means. “So, you’re getting married…” That’s the only thing that managed to come out of her mouth. Jungkook smiles at you and says breathlessly “Yeah.” 

What a play pretend…

“That’s…wonderful news! I kept wondering when this was going to happen, being away from me and home all the time, I knew you would find someone to take your heart. I am so happy for you two!” Tears almost started forming in her eyes, but probably you were the only one to notice since Jungkook only thanked her lightly and started going towards the house, with your hand in his.

… “Don’t worry about meeting my father, he might seem stern, but he’s not a bad guy.” He instructs you 

“Yes.” “And don’t think he won’t like you because you are not rich or something, I am pretty sure he will be happy to know I found someone to love, even though it’s just a facade for us.” He whispers the last part.

“Yes, sure.” You were out of it, mind going blank now that you were here. He gave a small squish to your hand trying to knock some courage into you and knocked on the door, entering with you behind. “General!” He saluted, letting go of your hand, and waited for what seemed an order. “It’s fine, son, you are dismissed for today!” He got up from the chair and came over to pat him on the back. 

“I heard you did very well at the border, less people managed to escape this month, good job.” He smiled warmly. 

“Thank you, father.” They engage in some conversation that you don’t really grasp.

Instead, you stare at the ground hearing how he is so praised for doing such “horrible” things. 

Yes, it was his job after all, you knew it already. But it still felt painful thinking of all the other people that didn’t manage to escape. They exchanged some more words before his father’s eyes laid on you, same questions addressed, same acts put up. 

You only smiled at him, being as polite as possible while staying in front of such a big figure in the community. “You’re getting married!” He exclaimed with a big smile on his face when Jungkook points at the dangling tag you wear. 

“Oh thank the lord! It was about time, Jungkook!” 

Both of you were pretty embarrassed to say the least, his dad was already making plans on when the wedding should take place, where you two should stay and how many grandchildren he wanted, but to your relief Jungkook cut him short.

“Next week father, no fancy stuff, no big parties, I just want to get it done fast.” And so his smile witheres. 

“But son, this is your wedding! You will only have one, it can’t just be like this, you are a general’s son and also a highly respected member of the community!” His father argued, definitely not pleased by his son’s roughness in handling such a “big” event.

“I don’t care, I just want it done fast, you know I am not the man to celebrate such stuff. I just want to focus on future work and…my wife.” His eyes met yours, they looked brighter at you, reassuring even, making you wonder why is he so good at pretending. 

“But how about her, Y/N is this what you also want?” Your future “husband” looked a little stressed when you were addressed with such questions, not knowing whether you will comply with his act or not.

Smiling bright, you chuckle before responding. “Yes, sir, if this is what my husband wants I will comply, I trust his decisions.” You could finally see his features softening a little, relieved and happy with your answer. 

“Then…it’s set. It might not be what I dreamed of for you, but if you are fine like this then I will ask the priest to officiate the ceremony next week and move you into an apartment downtown.”

He smiled at us one last time, exchanging a few more words with his son and making the arrangements for our future before letting some maids show me around. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

7 September 1955

The days have gone by quicker ever since you got into the city. You had a nice room where you stayed alone since Jungkook’s father said it’s immoral for the both of you to share the bed before being properly wed. The food was plenty and also the facilities were high quality, and the people around seemed decently kind.

The only downside, if you could call it like this, is you haven’t seen Jungkook as often since he’s apparently very busy all the time.

However, you had your chance at speaking with some of the people around his house, collecting crumbs about him and what he truly is like. 

The place was nice, and soon you started to feel much more at peace with the future life you were going to live, finding out that despite his appearance and inappropriate runny mouth, he was a well raised man. Right now you are standing in front of a mirror, dressed in a simplish white gown, hair and make-up perfectly done and a bouquet of white flowers in your hand. This was your big day, and looking back on what happened not long ago made you realize how much you've already changed.

After today you will not be a little kid anymore, you won’t need to run away or plan a better future. Still, everything is making you unsure, giving yourself away like this, for a man you barely knew made you just a little sad. “Are you ready? Oh my, how pretty you look!” In the time you spent at Jungkook’s house you managed to get along with an older lady, Miss Min, someone that knew him ever since he was a young child. 

You talked a little and bonded over tea and biscuits in the afternoon. She was the only one that really acknowledged your presence since Yuna only gave you stingy glares and huffed when you asked her little things, clearly not being fond of you, and the others only greeted and shied away knowing you will be a sergeant’s wife. “I think I am.” You said, going over the bottom of the dress once again, making sure there are no wrinkles and then taking a deep breath. Miss Min accompanied you to the church's door, where Jungkook’s father was waiting. Since you didn’t have any parental figure next to you, he took it upon himself to lead you to the altar. Inside the place was beautiful, there was some music playing in the background, and all of the people Jungkook knew were here, everyone was either a friend or relative to him. 

His father led you to him and you took his hand into yours. Looking around once again you felt alone. His smile was reassuring in a way, trying to calm your nerves down, but you just felt empty. The ceremony went over almost too fast, the priest said what he was supposed to say until now, the moment everyone was waiting for. “Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take Y/L/N Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?” 

“Yes!” 

And then he repeats his sentence, your eyes looking into Jungkook’s. Silence took over the place waiting for your response.

What should you do next? Say yes? If this was the answer, it felt wrong. 

You could feel a squish of your hands bring you back to where you are, the reality you are supposed to live, his eyes looking sternly while waiting for your answer letting you know that blowing your cover up now was not a good idea. “Yes.” And yes you say, people cheer, but there is no smile on your face. 

In other words, you feel like crying. 

Why were you doing this? Why are you marrying this man? The ceremony continues, vows are exchanged, vows that are fake, rings are exchanged, rings that just trap you into this unreal story, tied to a man you barely met.  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”  And now a kiss. It was supposed to be the one you love to do this with you, to take these steps with you, but it’s not and so you close your eyes, a warm and soft pair of lips meet yours for the first time in your life, the saltiness of your tears taking away from how bitter everything feels. Everyone congratulates you, they are happy, and you, once again put on your facade and tell yourself to be grateful for what you have. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time flies and after the wedding you are in front of your new apartment, smiling and saying goodbye. 

And then you find yourself inside the living room and soon enough in the room you are supposed to share, looking dumbfounded at your now to call husband. “Take them off.” He demands, arms crossed. 

No way you’re doing this…like this! “Can’t you hear me? Take your clothes off, I want to see you.” 

Your face burns red, arms wrapped around yourself, gripping the soft fabric tighter around you. Your ears refuse to acknowledge his words.

“If you don’t then I will.” The man takes a step further and you run towards what is supposed to be the bathroom door…locked. 

“So you really want to play like this, I thought you would be more understanding.” Jungkook comes over,  his hands drag you over to the bed sitting on the edge with you in front of him.  “Take your clothes off.” Burning gaze almost rips the dress itself. There is no escape from this so you start peeling at your clothes under his stare.

First is the vail that falls from your head, next he helps you with the zipper and then there you are, all naked in front of him, hands trying to hide what’s left of your dignity. He doesn't seem satisfied however, arms still crossed, eyes still burning on your body. 

“Are you a virgin?” You look up to him in shock, eyes wide, blood rushing to your already red cheeks. 

Was this a way to shame you? Asking these types of vulgar questions, making you do such things in front of him. “Is this your way to humiliate me?” You ask, voice small. “Nope, not at all.” You feel tears burning into the corner of your eyes, arms bending even more trying to make you disappear. 

“Is this embarrassing to you?” He asks curiously. 

“Yes…” you say in a whisper, hoping to ease some of the shame he’s making you feel. 

The man gets up, still fully clothed, big hands push you gently on the bed. 

You close your eyes, expecting something to happen, but you only feel a cold piece of material being thrown over you, a blanket. 

You are looking back at him confused, wondering if he’s just playing with you or making fun of you, but when you see him take off his clothes as well, you start to panic a little, not knowing where to look. “There you go, are you feeling better now that we both are naked?” You can’t look at him, body burning up under the covers. If you could dig a hole and crawl into it you would do so. 

Once again you expect him to do something, but he goes out of the room leaving you naked on the bed. Maybe he’s crazy, you think, but when you see him return with a knife you get worried. “What are you doing with that?” Gulping you asked. “Well it’s clear you have no idea of what we are supposed to do, and, to be honest, you don’t even seem fond of having sex with me.” You gasp at the boldness of his words. “See, you can’t even bear to hear the word itself!” “Meanwhile, just the thought of doing it LIKE this, makes me uncomfortable. It can’t even get up, see?” And you look at his member then away once again, making Jungkook laugh. 

“How about the knife, what are you doing with it?” Your mind is still filled with worry.

“You see, everyone expects us to consummate the marriage, Nana Min will come tomorrow to clean up. But since we can’t right now, I need to make it believable. I will just snip my finger a little, they won’t know where the blood came from anyways.” You try to calm down, at least he’s not forcing you into stuff, it’s just that, it’s weird. Doing so much for something so fake, he’s really on the long run. With a small wince he cuts himself a little on his palm, letting a few drops of blood to stain the covers. “Done.” The boy wipes his hand with a spare cloth until the blood stops and then crawls into the bed, laying on his back. “Let’s just go to sleep.” 

You stay seated at the edge of the bed, covers still fully on you so Jungkook takes this as a sign to try and comfort you, finally feeling a little bad about the way he acted towards you. 

Gently, pulling you back, until you lay flat against the bed, he unwraps the cocoon you created around you and pulls the sheet over both of you, leaving a little space in the middle so your naked bodies don’t touch. “You’re worried?” He asks. “I am.” You respond, turning your back to him.

“We can talk if you want too, don’t be so closed around me, aren’t I your husband?” “Fake husband, Jungkook, everything about this is fake.” Jungkook hums. 

“Yes, but…it doesn't mean we can’t work it better.” He proposes. “What even is the purpose? You don’t love me and I don’t love you.” You say revolted. "Y/N. How can I explain this to you?” He sighs. 

“I know we don’t know each other, and this is a play pretend right now, but we can work it out, we just need some time?” “Time for what?” You sound defeated, and so you feel, especially everytime you’re standing in front of this man, if you can’t read him, how can you even get close to him later on?  

“For the fact that I’m not as unfond of you as you think.” He blurts out taking you by surprise. “What?” You turn to face him, letting him see your tears, his hand coming to your cheek to wipe them away. “Come on, do you really think I would go this far for someone I want nothing to do with? Getting married, saving you and what not? I can’t say I love you right now, I just met you. But…you seem nice and I won’t complain if I get to spend my time with you.” You scoff shoving his hands away.

“So you only saved me because…I seem nice?” You prop on your elbow and look at him. “Yeah, and fierce, and determined, not someone who will beg for her life like all the others do, you seem like a strong woman who actually wants to do something in her life.” He also props himself on his elbow, looking at you with soft eyes. “I could’ve just sent you there with the others, but something in me just decided to keep you, that’s why we are here.” A fresh new wave of tears threaten to fall from your eyes “So you want to tell me, that you only got me to this point because I was appealing to you, like…an easy catch?” You scoff once again. “Yes, shitty reason, but these are my valid feelings, and I’m sorry if they hurt you.” You could feel the anger bubbling in your veins and it wasn’t even for Jungkook. He thought you were just a nice piece of meat he could have, and he was right. You just fell into his den and now he can just devour you whenever he feels like, only because you were that dumb.

You offered yourself to him without a fight since that seemed to be the most profitable option for you back then. 

“You think I’m a jerk right?” Oh and so much more, but now this is the jerk you are stuck with.

“Yes, I do, a big one, thinking of me as just an object you could have.” “You’ll learn to love me one day. I don’t plan on getting away from you.” The sincerity his eyes hold just confirmed everything you needed to know and “Never.” was your answer, deep inside knowing that this was not how things will be. Those were the last words spoken that night, before a sigh left his lips, probably tired and unsure himself of all of this.

You turned around, body seated as far as possible from him, emotions running wild, letting only time say how this will unfold. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

22 December 1955

And time truly heals, at first it felt horrible, long days spent inside these walls, your husband being away, not like it mattered that much since you two were not making it easier for each other, being at each other's throats almost everyday. 

It’s been a month since you met, and then it’s been two, then three, and things started to calm down. 

And now you stay in front of your oven, almost end of December, eyes sparkling while looking at how beautifully the snowflakes fall from the sky before getting lost in the darkness of the night. 

The smell of baked cookies fills the apartment, maybe not as big as his father’s, but big enough for you two. 

Jungkook is not home yet, or so you think, but when you feel two strong arms wrapping around you from behind you can’t help but get startled. “Did I scare you bun?” His voice was gentle, his cold embracing slowly becoming filled with your warmth. Things did get better, and he was right. 

It took a while for him to pull at your heart strings, but once he started it was way too hard to stop. 

First, it was the nicknames, then he started to give you some of the space you needed to explore what you like, coming across your knitting hobby. 

He made sure you felt spoiled, always bringing back stuff so you could cook and bake for him since you were fond of homemade food, and he became fond of your cooking. 

He became more gentle and opened up about a lot of stuff to you, and slowly so did you. It was coming along nicely, you were both learning how to love each other. “What are you making?” He asked while sniffing the air. “Just some basic cookies, Christmas is right around the corner and I need to prepare. You said we are going to visit your father and I thought we could also bring some goods to him.”

He nozzles his nose on the side of your neck, a new stuff he likes to do to bring some butterflies in your stomach. “Did Nana Min come around today?” He asks while leaving a kiss on your cheek. “Yes, she did.” 

Ever since the first night here, lady Min made sure you two had great comfort, being his maid for so long already made things easier, and you don’t want to admit it but her presence did make you two get closer faster. “You smell nice.” His hands leave your waist and start getting dangerously low for your liking. Even though you two have been married for quite some time, you were still uneasy when Jungkook initiated things further than kissing, that also being a step taken very hard in your relationship.

He didn’t want to pressure you either, into doing something you possibly wouldn’t enjoy, but as he said once, he was a man and his needs started growing a little beyond the line, especially since you two started getting way closer. Stuff like intimacy was discussed before, he knew you didn’t have experience and you found out he lingered around sometimes, from having a few flings here and there to actually going to the more “exclusive” places of your times where you can pay for such services.

You were a little horrified to find about this, but he assured it was long in the past, just when his youth was kicking in, and it’s been years since he stopped going there. However, he did say he’s never gone with a virgin, so the doubts were still there, both of you felt them.

Your body rigids when his hands slips under your blouse. “Jungkook.” You try to warn him, but his mouth starts leaving small kisses to the side of your neck. 

“Relax baby.” And you try, until one of his hands slips under your bra, cupping your right breast. You whimper a little, eyes closing and only then Jungkook knows he’s gotten you right where he wanted once again. “Let’s go upstairs.” He stops the oven, leaving the cookies half baked, slowly guiding you to the bedroom. Hungry lips come in contact with yours even before entering the room, and you could feel that everything about this is different, but you don’t stop.

You learned now that he will never hurt you or go beyond something you don’t like, you just need to tell him and he’ll stop. “Can I take this off?” He asked since your bra straps were already going down your arms under your blouse. Jungkook’s hands were already toying with your breasts, yet he still was sweet enough to ask if he could remove your upper wear. 

“Yeah, please do so.” Your small voice was not uncertain yet, truth to be told, you’ve gone a few times through him groping and kissing on your body, more or less naked, but he never dared to touch beyond that, and you always made sure to stop him out of your own fears. With careful hands Jungkook takes off your blouse, unclasps your bra and lays you down on the bed, head right between the pillows. His lips trail down from your neck to your chest, stopping right above your breast before taking your nipple right on. He manages to rip a louder moan out of you, your back arching at the feeling making him grin. His hands help you out of your skirt, now only in your pair of panties in front of him, and when one of them starts to play with your underwear that’s when you let all of your insecurities take the better of you.

“Jungkook, stop.” You rise from the bed and try to avoid his gaze, you know he’s annoyed with your behavior, always stopping him before things become more serious, but he also realizes how scary this is for you. 

Your hands grip the sheets, eyes getting teary in frustration, a warm hand cups your face. “Look at me, Y/N.” Head turning slowly, soft dark brown eyes bore into yours. “We are never getting past this if you don’t trust me.” He says a little worried. “But I do trust you…I just…don’t trust me.” You sniffle and wipe the tear that just fell from your eye. The man in front of you giggles, he pulls his uniform off, leaving him only in his boxers and he rests his head on your shoulder leaving feathery kisses. “I told you I don’t care, good or bad I want you.”

You also rest your head on his shoulder, more tears wetting his skin in annoyment with yourself. “Will you be gentle with me?” He hums, wrapping his arms around your body, dragging you on his lap, letting you feel how hard he is for you. “I will go easy, and if you feel really bad just tell me to stop.” He lays you back eyes looking for reassurance before sliding your last piece of clothing off your body, and you give him the green after so long. Jungkook feels excitement bubbling inside him and he tries not to let his feelings get the best of him at this moment. 

“You look so pretty.” His palms start rubbing your legs up and down before parting them to look right where he wanted. One of your hands makes their way down quickly, but before you can hide away he takes your hand away making you whine. 

“Don’t look, please!” You say, embarrassment running through your veins “Then what am I supposed to do? I want to see it.” His comments always bold, making you bright red for him. “I have to touch you a little, you won’t be able to take it otherwise.” You bite your lips at his remark, already too embarrassed to say anything. You saw him, not once after that night, sometimes soft, sometimes hard, he was a lot. 

It worried you a little, however, his touch on your private parts made even the clearest part of your mind cloud. He touched lightly, playing with the bundle of nerves first, making you feel stuff you’ve never felt before, and then you felt it, one of his fingers, thick and slightly rough to the feeling, entering you. “Oh my God!” Your whole body contracted. It felt weird, not exactly bad, but weird, a new feeling. 

“Shhh, relax for me.” He made sure to kiss and caress you in such a way you wouldn’t feel the second going in just after. And slowly, you whimpered and squirmed around as he was pumping them in and out. 

“I don’t think I like this.” You say, a strange new feeling already developing inside of you. “You’re just close, don’t worry, you will feel better in a second.” He picked up his pace, thumb rubbing over your clit every time he pushed his fingers into you. “This is scary, please.” 

His lips reassure you a little when they make contact with your temple. “It’s going to be better, let it out, my soul.” And you overspill, all the emotions that bottled up spill right in that moment, a wave of pleasure washes over you making you almost scream. It takes you a minute to get down from the high you just had, your husband whispering how good you did for him while his hands leave your fluttering count. You close your eyes for a little until you hear some rustling around you. Jungkook is getting out of the bed, boxers still on hard cock threatening to escape out of them. 

“Where are you going?” You ask confused, awaken fast from the mind blowing pleasure you just felt. “I’ll run you a bath, I’ll be right back.” You rush to get up, hand managing to catch his.

“But why? Are we finished yet?” He smiles gently at you and pats your head. “You are a little overwhelmed right now, you just had your first ever orgasm, my love. Don't worry about me, if we go further it might be too much for you.” 

He tries to soften your grip and go but you hold even tighter. “No!” You jump out of the bed with wobbly legs, dragging him towards the bed and making him sit down on the edge. “You’re just working me up for nothing? I’ve been waiting for this and now that I have the courage you stop? What kind of man ar…” You try to revolt and anger him a little. And you also obtain what you want, he turns you around manhandling you, face in the sheets, his hard on pressing on your bum making you gasp. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, I won’t be able to stop if we continue.” 

You turn your head to the left looking up at him, eyes clouded. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.” He growls a little, warning you. “This attitude you have! Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you in any way, it will just make this experience bad for you.” 

He lets go and you turn around. “Please, I want this.” You beg him to please your wishes making him sigh once again, head dropping, finally giving in to your desires. “Just…hit me if it hurts or I don’t stop.” He crawls back in bed, sitting once again on top of you, his hand slip his boxers off, knocking the breath out of your lungs when you see him stand so tall in front of you, hand gripping his hot cock, his eyes clouded by his own desires.

“Spread nicely for me, love.” And you do so, much more confidently this time, excited even. Jungkook looks down at you, seeing how small you look under him, a little unsure if he really wants to continue, but you seem so excited to finally let things happen, so he caves in. Pumping himself a few times he rubs up and down to collect some of your left over wetness, his hand guiding the tip at your entrance. “It will hurt .” He warns. “It’s fine, I trust you, Jungkook.” You whisper, making his heart skip a beat knowing that you trust him so much. He bites his lip and with a small nudge he pushes lightly past the ring of your entrance looking over for any reaction, anything and he will pull out instantly.

You seem quiet and calm so he gathers some more courage to push just a little further, just until his head is in, and then he looks over to you seeing the signs already, tears pulling in your eyes and fists lightly clumping his pillow. 

“I’ll stop.” “No!” You say once again, more determined to try new stuff with the man you are finally in love with. ‘But you are in pain, love.” He coos softly. “Just do it please, it’s not that bad.” Jungkook pushes further and further until he is almost fully in, his face comes closer to yours just to kiss your lips and face and soothe the pain away, letting you adjust to the new feeling, giving him a nudge when you feel ready.

“I’ll move now, tell me if it’s too much.” And he slowly pulls out, a few droplets of blood staining the sheets. You moan harshly when he pushes in again, this time fitting all of himself inside you. 

And he holds you through the pain until you start to claw at his back, more sounds coming out of the both of you. “It’s starting to feel good.” You breathlessly say while the man above you seems to have his mind almost out of this world. It doesn't take much for the feeling to start appearing once again, warm bubbles forming in your tummy. “I’m close.” You say calmly, knowing what’s about to happen. “Me too, baby.” Your husband whispers breathlessly.  

Jungkook’s starts being a little rough making you whine while your walls contract at the sudden peace. “It’s just me baby, relax for me.” He says making you melt in his embrace. 

In a second the bubbles burst making you arch your back, scratching Jungkook’s with your nails in the process. And soon you feel it, the sloppy pace, the trembling and the even warmer feeling within your walls. Maybe you were inexperienced, but you knew what this meant. “Jungkook, did you…” Both of you were trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry…I came inside…I told you I can’t stop.” The boy was ashamed, not being careful could lead to greater consequences, and he, for sure, did not want to knock you up on the first night you shared your love. 

Slowly he pulls out, looking at the mess he’s made, saying sorry once again. “If I get pregnant, you’re in big trouble, mister.” You laugh a little pulling him down for a kiss. 

“But until then let’s wash you up, you must be tired.” He says picking you up and carrying you in the bathroom. Life just gets sweeter and sweeter from a point, that’s what everyone says. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

4 March 1956 Thankfully you didn’t manage to get pregnant from your first try, or second, or third, and the many more that followed after. At a point you even wondered if it was possible for you to carry. But your husband was not worried, he always said “When’s the time, it will happen.” 

To be honest, you think he was just grateful he didn’t have to worry about protection. You were at Jungkook’s family house right now. He was on his border shift and whenever that would happen, you would stay over with his father and the others. 

Winter was finally over, flowers started to bloom again and the weather was pretty warm for the beginning of spring. 

You were waiting patiently, it was time for your husband to return and everyone waited eagerly ever since they heard this month, due to their skilled squad, nobody managed to pass the border. 

You got used to it by now, old events long forgotten, your mind and soul accepting Jungkook’s work more and more, after all it was also part of him. Playing with the chain of your silver necklace, rocking on the swing in the front garden, looking outside through the thick fence at the various people passing by. Humming gently while letting the breeze run through your locks, a surprised voice calling your name. “Y/N?” You look up, eyes widening in surprise, happiness washing over you at the sight of Yun-Mi. She looked ravaged, her clothes were pretty dirty and she had some visible bruises on her, not to mention the prominent belly she was carrying. You wanted to say hi, to ask her how she’s doing, what happened all this time, worried about how did she end up in this state, but before your body to make a move Jungkook’s words came up in your mind “Those girls are not your friends anymore, we don’t speak of them, and if you want to live good then you follow what I say and be obedient, understood?”

So you stop, you can’t do this. You avert her gaze and slowly get off the swing, turning your back to her, feet rushing to get inside. You hear her scream, her hands open the gate running after you. “You can’t do this to me! Why are you pretending you don’t know me?!” “I don’t know you! Please leave, this is private property!” You look back, she’s struggling with all that’s going on, but you don’t stop. In front of the door Yuna appears out due to all the noise and screams. You look at her expecting to call some guards, or do something about the situation but she just sits there, a small grin plastering her face in satisfaction. Within seconds, you fall to the ground, your feet tripping over a stone. Yun-Mi’s body turns you around, getting her form on top of you, one of her hands gripping your hair while the other hits the arms that tries to cover your face. “Get off me!” You scream in pain. “How can you do this! Filthy bitch! You don’t know me anymore? You don’t want to know what I went through while you lived a good life?!” And she hits even harder, tears coming out, running on your face. You close your eyes expecting more, but the only thing you can hear is her yelping. With trembling hands you try to arrange your hair. Looking up, your eyes only see the very furious figure of your husband, his hands gripping Yun-Mi’s hands above her head. 

“How can this happen in my yard, on my property!” His soldiers drag Yun-Mi’s body out of the garden while she’s pulling up a rage fit, screaming insults. Jungkook doesn't look at you first, his eyes lay on the girl in front of his house, who’s now avoiding his gaze, his father coming out from behind her shock plastered on his face. 

“What is happening here?” He rushes over to see your state. Jungkook grits his teeth, heavy and fast steps taken towards Yuna, both me and his father turn around to watch him. His hand came in contact with her arm, pulling her towards him. “Why did you let this happen?” Yuna bows her head, avoiding his glance. “Yuna, I’m asking one more time. Why did you let this woman hurt my wife?”  She looks at him through her lashes, biting her lips, spitting venomous words between her teeth. “She deserves it for stealing you away from me.” Slap Her face turns to the side, eyes widening and tears gathering in them. The man shakily exhales, his hand running through his hair in anger. 

“If you ever let my wife get hurt and do nothing about it, I will throw you out on the streets. Remember who brought you here and be grateful, not a greedy bitch who wants a married man’s attention.” With a low, dark tone he tells her. He’s finally coming closer to you, his father scolds him for hitting a woman, but he doesn’t seem to care. He tries to be gentle with you, but you can see he's still full of rage. “Are you okay, my soul?” You shake the dust of your dress, brushing your hair back, collecting the few strands that fall. “Yeah, I’m fine, a bit scuffed, that’s all.” He sighs, helping you get up from the ground. “Let’s get you inside and clean your wounds, I have something to discuss with my father.” He takes your hand in his and helps you inside the house, passing by Yuna whose body was on the ground, shaking from all the crying. Lady Min took care of you while Jungkook and his father went into his office to discuss. It didn’t take long to hear the shouting and arguing, at a point even some glass smashing to the ground.

“Oh my, what is happening in there? Today is not a good day.” She bandages you with worry and by the time she is done your husband storms more enraged out of his father’s office. “Come on Y/N, we’re leaving.” Using your name surely startled you, after months of being used to praises, your name felt strange coming out of his mouth. “You are not doing as you please, Jungkook! This is not your decision to take!” His father screams while going after him. “You can’t make me stay, this is my life! I’m 25 for fuck’s sake! I am allowed to make my own decisions!” And with that his hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the house, and pushing you into the backseat of his car. 

His dad still screaming after his son, but he wouldn’t turn back. He buckles up into the driver’s seat and drives you home. … “Pack up, tonight I’m coming for you.” He said sternly after you two entered the house. “Jungkook, what’s happening? Where are we going? Why were you fighting with your father?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, annoyed. “Answer me, please.”  You could see him clench his fists. “Pack up I said! And don’t ask stupid questions!” He growls violently back at you. Startled by his anger, you bow your head and nod, a little scared by his actions. What was happening to him all of a sudden?  You wanted to have answers, to not be in the shadows, clearly he didn’t want you to know. But you could only wonder, did something bad happen? Your husband sighs and comes closer to you, pulling you into his embrace, finally trying to calm his nerves down. “I’m sorry, love, didn’t mean to scream at you. Just pack up and I’ll explain to you on the way.” He kisses your temple going out of the door and right back at the car, leaving you alone in the cold and empty house.

… Packing up was definitely a challenge for you since there were many things you had now and don’t know if you need, but after a few hours you think you finally have everything essential down. 

The sky is dark now, a car stops in front of your door, and one of Jungkook’s soldiers boards your items in the trunk. In the backseat, your husband reads over some documents, his eyes soften when he sees you enter, he is way calmer now. “Hey.” His hand comes in contact with your hair, brushing gently through it. “Hey” You respond with a small smile, hands fidgety. “I know you are confused, but don’t worry. I’ll explain everything to you.” And he does. He told you how some of his soldiers died in a border attack, and how he was tired of doing this work, always seeing his mates pass away. He put up a petition to move departments and work in city patrolling and other governmental work instead, and it got approved. 

Not by his father though, who taught he doesn't have to move away in another city and work with the government, that sparked the argument between the two. He insisted on his son staying close to home since the war was getting rougher with many more enemy squads were coming closer to habitable places, the borders being attacked more often. 

But Jungkook made his decision, he was a 25 years old man after all, he needed to think about his whereabouts more and also take into consideration all ways to keep you safe. 

And now there were you going, another city, another house, another life to live. Looking into the night, part of you was conflicted. You knew your husband only wanted the best for you and himself, but leaving behind all that he knew, friends and family, was this really a good decision?  Your thoughts were all over the place with everything that happened too. I guess you could say your husband noticed your worries since he took you into his embrace, cuddling you close to the heart that was now beating only for you, your eyes slowly closing while listening to it, letting go of your worries for tomorrow.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

21 July 1956 

Months have gone by fast in the new city. At first, accommodation was hard. You knew no one and making friends was not an option when Jungkook, a highly seen sergeant now working with the government, was your husband. 

The place was poorer than the one you lived in before, that’s why people avoided you, being commoners made them afraid to engage so they don’t end up in prison or enslavement. In this case you remained alone, now already used to the feeling. However, your husband was more often at home since his duties didn’t make him take so much time apart, mostly working in the place you are settled. This also makes it easier for you to get even more closer to each other, almost a year passed since your meeting. Dates occurring more often, just like right now.  The last few days it rained quite a bit, but now the weather is starting to warm up again, making it perfect for spending your time out. And after spending so much boring time in your house, you filled a little basket with goods, took a nice blanket and urged your husband to get out for your little picnic, it was his day off after all, he should enjoy it. “Come on, Jungkook! Be a little faster!” You found yourself on a little hill right outside the city, it was pretty similar to the one you had back home, but with a better view and not as dangerous. You let your basket down, hands spreading the blanket nicely between the taller grass and the pretty summer wildflowers. Your husband chuckles at your eagerness, his back laying on the blanket while watching you rummage through the goods. “I hope I didn’t forget anything at home.” His hands pat your back urging you to lay down next to him. “We will enjoy what you brought, honey. Just sit and enjoy for now.” You sigh and shoot him a glance, but quickly conform and lay next to him staring at the clouds in the sky. “There are many clouds today, I hope it won’t rain.” Jungkook hums next to you, closing his eyes, enjoying the summer breeze. “I want to do it.”  You sit up so fast, clearly taken aback by his words, making him grin. Sure, you learned the hard way that he is the type of man who gets what he wants when he wants it, but right now? “Are you serious? This is supposed to be a nice evening that we both enjoy!” You nag at him. “And we will both enjoy it, I promise.” His arms wrap around your waist, dragging his body closer, lips make contact to your clothed thigh. 

Your hands try to push him away, but he doesn’t budge. “Jungkook, not now! We are in the open eye and…and what if someone just stumbles across us doing inappropriate things? That’s only going to ruin your reputation and make me want to vanish from the face of earth!” You try to fight back but in vain, his hands push you down to lay back on the blanket, his body hovering above you. Your hands grip his biceps, trying to stop him from running your skirt upwards, but when his sweet lips melt on the side of your neck you loosen up a little, letting him do whatever he wants. Soon enough the skirt of your dress is ridden above your waist, panties long forgotten to the side. Jungkook smirks while looking at how wet and glistening you are. “I missed this, I’ve been so busy lately that I forgot how pretty you look.” You slap his hand lightly, being embarrassed. He hums thinking about something, while you just lay there expecting his touch. “Is everything alright?” You ask, a little worried when he doesn’t touch you. “I’m contemplating on what to do, my fingers are dirty so I can’t use them, and going without prepping you will hurt.” 

Oh…he was just so thoughtful that it just melted you. You wanted to tell him that he can just put it in, you’ll endure. But before you can say anything his lips come in contact with your warm clit. You gasp in shock, fingers already tangling in his hair to try and push him away. He’s never done this to you before.  “Oh my lord! What are you doing!” But he doesn't budge, he only sucks harder around your folds, making you lean your head back moaning loudly. One of his hands pushes you down before coming to spread your thighs even more. His lips and tongue working wonders on you, almost making you forget about everything around, but getting you so, so flustered by all the slurping and licking sounds that fly in the air. Soon you feel your high coming and when the tip of his tongue brushes past your entrance you lose it, a high pitched moan leaving your throat while stars start to appear in the day sky. You breathe heavily, chest running up and down, legs shaking. Jungkook emerges from the skirt that fell down over his heads, lips glossy and grin almost as big as his pride from making you come so fast. “I think you are prepared enough now.” He pulls your skirt back up, gripping your legs and putting them over his shoulders, almost folding you in half. 

“I don’t want to know where you learn all of these nasty things from.” You say, finally getting back to your senses, only for a short time though. He laughs and pushes in, his cock sliding in and bottoming out instantly at how well prepped you were. “Would you look at that?” He cockily says. It only took him a few seconds of accommodation before starting to thrust quickly into you, making your breast almost spill from the confinement of your top. His lips eagerly nudge at your neck, hands not letting your legs slip from his shoulders. “Don’t worry, sunflower, you were the first one to try this. Until today I only saw it done by others.” He whispers in your ears, making you clench tightly around him. Your arms grab him by his neck, pulling him closer, sweet sounds pouring into his ears making him hiss.

“I’m embarrassed right now, you always pull stunts like this.” He laughs wholeheartedly, peace never slowing down. 

He gets up from your chest, eyes staring lovingly into yours before he stretches upwards, making him go even deeper if possible, also taking a moan out of you when you feel his tip gently nudge your cervix. “You’re a little deep…” Your heart flutters, fingers gently caressing his face. You could feel so much love all around you. Feeling your second orgasm come close, you turn your head looking at the sky above. It felt like you were the only ones under it at this moment. “I’m close, love.” You say. Jungkook’s peace also starts to wither, getting close to his own high. “Me too, my soul.” In an instant the love blooms between you two, your bodies burning up with passion and desire, the knots untying letting you claim each other once again. Both of you breath heavily, sweat running down your foreheads. He doesn’t pull out, but his arm reaches above your head, pushing him a little deeper once again, making you whine.

He comes down quickly not to hurt you, placing a daisy in your messy hair. “My beautiful flower.” He whispers, rough hands caressing the soft skin of your face making you blush even more. He collapses on top of you, your legs falling off his shoulders, but still feeling a little uncomfortable from all the soreness that’s appearing.  “Can you pull out, please?” “Nope.” He raises his head smiling smugly. “I’m getting sore.” “Sorry baby, but I’m starting to get a little worried by now. It’s been a year yet you are still not pregnant, not that I’m eager for a child, but I wonder what’s happening here.” He smiles and pecks your lips quickly.

“So these are your worries now? Weren’t you the one who said when it’s time it will come?” You scoff. “But it’s been long, what if you can’t get pregnant?” 

You frown a little, baby talking was a pretty sensitive topic, especially after so much trial and error. You didn't think it would affect you in any way, you were still young and if it was to come you will be more than happy to welcome a little bundle of joy. 

Jungkook didn’t seem very fond of the idea of having a baby either in the beginning, always saying how he was too busy to care for one. However, you are a little hurt now. Giving him a child is a dream of yours, but if that doesn’t happen, is your relationship going to stay the same? Maybe he will leave you for someone else that can give him one. Worry and insecurity starts growing into your veins. “It hurts, can you please get off.” You start to wiggle and he finally complies, pulling out and wiping you clean with a napkin. “It hurts badly? Did I hurt you?” He also grows worried, pulling your leg to inspect whether he hurt you badly or not. “It seems just like any other time after we’ve done it? Where does it hurt?” He asks, concerned. 

“Here…” You point to your heart, hurt more by the thoughts of him possibly leaving you for someone else then the soreness between your legs. 

He takes your hand in his and looks over you with worry. “Why? Is it bad, do we need to see a doctor?” You shake your head sitting up. “Will you leave me?” He tilts his head holding your hand close to his chest. “Leave you, no. Why would you think that?” “Because I might not be able to bear your children.” You sniffle. He laughs and puts your palm under his shirt, right where his heart sits. “Do you feel this? It beats for you and you only. Even if we can’t have them, this, what I feel for you…will never fade away, trust me.” The sincerity in his eyes and words make you tear up, cuddling closer to his chest to listen to the way his heart beats. And you stay close, holding each other until the sun almost dies down, enjoying his presence and eating all the goods you made. Packing everything up, Jungkook helps you on your feet, hands grabbing the basket and blanket. Thick and dark clouds covering what’s left of the sun. “I think it will rain tonight.” “Yes, so do I, we better hurry. I’m already dirty and I don’t want to wash up in the rain.” With quick steps you get back to the city. Welcomed by agitation right from the beginning. You grasp Jungkook’s hand tight and stick closer to him. “What is happening?” He asks, concerned.

We make our way into the madness, the rain starting to pour all of a sudden. Nobody can say anything, they just wander around, running and gathering what seems to be their belongings. Are they leaving? With heavy steps and hearts you arrive in front of your house, a car filled with military men waiting in front. “Stay here.” Jungkook instructs you, leaving the basket in your hands and covering your head with the blanket. 

You try to get closer to hear what’s happening, but all that you can see is Jungkook’s worried eyes. He gulps thickly and turns to you for a brief second, finally letting you see his glossy eyes. Without a word he jumps in the car and leaves. You remain alone on the streets, clothes drenched, the wooden basket falling from your hands on the ground. You stare into nothingness not wanting to believe that he just left without an explanation after sharing so much love. After what seemed to be an eternity, your sore and cold body finally moves. With shaky hands you pick up all the food that spilled on the road, most of it washed by the rain. Unknowingly tears start running down your face. You gathered everything and went inside. It was warm, but you just felt cold. 

After you wash up and lay in bed you can finally let all your emotions run wild, painful sobs being heard around the room in hopes of someone hearing them.

All you could do was wait…wait for his answers, wait for him to return home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

19 August 1956 It’s been almost a month. A month since Jungkook left and never returned. You waited for a sign, you waited for him to show up at your door and jump in your arms. You always told yourself that no apologies can make you forgive him for this, but the truth is that you only needed to see his eyes, to feel his warmth and you know you will forget anything that has happened. You tried getting answers, but nobody knew much. You asked other military man to drive you to where he was, knowing that they knew where he was, but in vain. You were stuck for almost a month in this city, living like a widow instead of a happy wife. But now you know, a soldier came into the city and you overheard him saying how General Jeon was on death bed due to being injured in an attack in the city, his son getting ready to take his place. You almost fainted out of shock, not wanting to believe that was the truth, the reason your husband left without a trace. With the little power you had, after being drained out for so long, you gathered some necessities and jumped in the first communal carrier that was passing through the old city you lived in. And there you were, after many hours spent on the road, feet planted in front of the Jeon family house. The look of the place now eerie due to the attack of the enemies. You step inside the big garden, once decorated with pretty flowers, now only dirt and mud covering the yard, even the swing was just a pile of broken wood. Getting closer to the door you could feel your feet soften, shaking hands come in contact with the door knob. You enter, the house seeming devoid of life. Putting the little suitcase you carried down you scan the place for any movements. From the corner of your eyes you could see Jungkook’s father's office with a slightly open door. Your feet take slowly towards it, peeking through the gap. A figure sits lonely in the chair, head resting on the desk. Your heart skips a beat when you notice the messy hair of someone you know very well, Jungkook. Slowly you make your way in admiring his sleepy figure after all this time. His eyes carried dark circles under them, tired by all the work he had to do. Your hand makes its way to his locks, now just a little longer than you remember, but just as soft. You can’t help but let out a sigh at the sight of him, slight pang growing in your heart. He must have felt your touch, stirring in his sleep until his eyes opened and looked at you. He is shocked, jumping from his chair, strengthening his posture looking like he’s just seen a ghost. 

“Long time no see.” It’s the only thing you can say after so long. You had so many questions you wanted to ask, but it was hard to form them. “Y/N…” He mutters, hands rubbing his eyes in confusion, wondering if you would disappear. But you are still here, yet too calm. 

“You came.” He says. “You left me.” You respond.

He avoids your gaze, conscious of his actions and behavior. “I had no choice, my father is sick, I had to return, and…” “Stop, Jungkook.” He looks up at you, goosebumps appearing on his skin from your stern voice. “I don’t want to hear your nonsense, you left me. Why did you leave me?” He puts his hand on his forehead, eyes closing, trying to think of something to say. “I didn’t leave you, this is temporary, I would’ve returned to you, I would’ve come back home.” He argues back.

“When? I waited for a sign from you for almost a month.” You sniffle, eyes burning with tears that threaten to fall, the feeling way too overwhelming. 

“I waited for a letter, or a call! Someone to just appear at my door with any information. Hell, anything would’ve done!” You spit out in a blurry rush, afraid that he might just disappear again, leaving you alone and cold.  

“But you? You just left me there without any care, to rot and die from missing you so goddamn much…” You try to swallow the boulder you feel in your throat, but nothing can stop the feelings who already overspiled. Jungkook turns his head, eyes getting teary as well. “I had no choice, Y/N. He’s dying...” “And so was I!” Your fist hits his desk, rage burning like the salty tears that run on your face. “I was dying little by little everyday! I lived with you being away because I knew you would return. But now…you left without a word, I was worried sick! I didn’t think I'd see you again!” You bite your lip, the pressure making it almost bleed. “Stay out of it.” Your shoulders slouch, figure softening at his words. “Go back home and stay out of it, Y/N.” He looks sternly at you, after all this time still pulling this stupid obedience game. You’ve had enough. “If you don’t want me here and just continue to push me away, throwing me into the shadows then so be it, but don’t expect me to welcome you into my house, or my bed, or my heart anymore.” You grip with cold hands the tag that you wore for almost a year. In a swift motion, take it down from your neck, making Jungkook widen his eyes. “Don’t you dare!” He says, voice shaking. “Screw you.” Your hands throw the tag on the floor, landing right at his feet, turning your back to him you run out of the room, forgetting about everything else. Jungkook's body is stiff as a stone, head trying ever so hard to process what just happened. He missed you, he missed you like crazy. He imagined in his head the way you two would meet again, the way he would make it up and make you forget that he was even away. 

He ached to have you in his arms, to feel your touch, to kiss your lips. Now all that he could do was grip the piece of cold metal in his hands, sobs leaving his body uncontrollably. 

A warm hand places itself on the crown of his head, hoping that this was not the end, that you came back and forgave him, that he didn’t just lose you forever. It was Lady Min, however. Her eyes soft and warm, holding so much pity for the boy she raised all these years. “Oh my Jungkook. My swell little boy.” She pats his head while he cries and sobs, just like she was doing when he was just a small boy. “I-I lost her. Right?” He says through hiccups making her sigh.

“You only lose something you don’t care about anymore, Jungkook.” Her hands wipe his tears and help him back on his feet. “You are a soldier yourself, young boy. Are you going to lose without a proper battle?” He wipes his tears and calms down, holding the chain tightly to his chest. “No. I don’t want to let this happen.” “Then what are you waiting for? You’ve surely made many mistakes, but we are all humans after all, it’s in our nature to make mistakes. Y/N is a sweet girl, she will forgive you.” Jungkook gets a little courage from her reassuring words. “Go after your girl, Jungook. Don’t let her break away from you.” He nods and rushes after you, hands holding the tag like his life depends on it. … Things were just as heavy for you, already regretting having such attitude towards your husband. It was getting late and you needed a place to stay, since your old apartment was most probably sold already. You sigh, trying to wipe the remaining tear stains of your face, until a hand grabs your arm. You turn away alarmed, sensing that coming your way was only trouble. A man. His uniform was one of a soldier, face grinning from ear to ear, making goosebumps appear on your skin, this guy ment danger. 

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing at such late hour? Should I accompany you home?” You gulp and try to take your arm out of his grip, keeping as well as you can composure. “I’m fine, my husband’s waiting for me.” You say trying to free up once again, hoping he gets the signal and leaves you alone, but instead, another guy makes its way towards you two. “Is there a problem here?” He asks, looking at the shorter guy in front of him. You look pleadingly, hoping that he will instruct the one in letting you go, but you are so wrong. “She’s alone at night, in such place, I figured I could help her get back home.” 

The other guy laughs and shakes his head. “It’s pretty late, you are right.” And then you see it, the nasty stares you get, the way his hand goes ever so slightly upper on your arm. “Let go of me, I am a married woman, if my husband finds out both of you will be killed.” You try to say confidently, after all it’s the truth. You just gave them a chance to not experience their eyes being carved out, because if he finds out they touched you, not even begging and praying would help. “Come on, don’t be so stiff, it’s just some fun we can have before you get home, doesn’t it sound tempting?” You shake your head, finally understanding their motives. The other hand moves to pull out Jungkook’s tag, only to touch nothing in return. 

You threw the tag at him. You start gulping harder, body tensing up and muscles starting to shake. “Let go of me, I am not joking, my husband is in high military, if he finds out you will be tortured!” The men only laugh, the second guy comes close to you, gripping your hands from the back, while the first one plays with the ties on your top. 

“Let’s see what we have here.” He says untying your top, your cleavage now on sight. “Let me go, this is your last chance!” You try to wiggle out, but it’s in vain, they are way stronger and bigger than you. His hands work fast, dragging your top low enough for your bra to be in full sight, his disgusting hands pull down your arm one strap. “Oh! So pretty, do you see this? Such a tasty dinner for us.” Tears fall once again while you still try to resist, the soldier's hand reaches to cup your breast through your bra, but it never touches it. Everything stops in time for a second and you look at his wrist, blood rushing, a huge hole in it. The soldier looks confused until the pain and shock starts to kick in and he falls to the ground. The other one lets you go, trying to run away but two more shots could be heard, and he falls to the ground with a wound on each leg. You cover your chest with your arms, looking in the distance to see your husband. Eyes burning red in anger, in his hand shining the piece of metal you needed back so much. 

He rushes over, putting his hands on your shoulders to examine whether you got hurt or not. You feel too ashamed to look at him, other men have touched and seen your body. His hands put your necklace back on, his jacket is gently placed over your shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I am here now.” He grabs your trembling body in his arms, caressing your head and back, shushing and calming you down. He grabs you even closer while some of his men appear at the scene, he made his whole pluton to look after you. 

“Sergeant! What’s your order?” The men salute him with respect. “Get them away and I don’t care what you do to them, just don't have mercy, they touched what’s mine.” He said through gritted teeth, a dangerous, dark look on his face. “Yes, sir!” They all comply and try to take the two who are crying and begging for their lives, but Jungkook doesn’t budge, he just holds you close to him until you get back to the house. … After he made absolutely sure you weren’t hurt, he let you take a bath, saying he wants to discuss once you are ready for bed. And he stayed truthful to his words this time. Entering the room also ready for bed, he comes closer to you letting his body rest. “We should talk.” You hum, turning your body away from him. “I know you are upset with me, and you have the right to be so. But I love you, Y/N, I would never want to do something as cruel as leaving you all by yourself. I should’ve explained myself first instead of just leaving like an idiot.” He comes closer to you wrapping his arms around your form from behind. You shy away at his touch. “Please, don’t hide from me, I’ve made mistakes, I know, but I am so, so sorry, forgive me.” He whispers, his nose buried in the back of your neck. You want to cry, and it’s not even for the reason he thinks, you feel disgusted about what happened. “I’m dirty now, right?” You ask biting your bottom lip. “Dirty? In what way?” He slowly asks. “They’ve seen and touched, I’m disgraceful.” you say while your hand presses the tag closer into your skin. Jungkook rests on his elbow and turns you around so you could lay on your back. Hi other hand cups gently your face. “You are not dirty nor disgraceful.” His hands caress your features gently. “Don’t feel that way, please.” “But they touched me, they almost saw me naked.” 

Jungkook leans down and kisses your eyes, then goes lower and lower, spilling praises along the way, his lips stopping at the nape of your neck. “If you really feel like this then how about you let me see and touch? I would make everything go away, my sun, you would only remember my eyes and lips on your pretty body after this, what do you think?” You look away and lightly tug at the top, loosening it for him to see and touch, and he complies. “That’s my girl.” His touch was gentle, cupping everything he could, kissing everywhere was skin.” 

It felt intimate, not lustfull or filled with desire, just intimate. His hands gently run up and down your waist while his mouth runs over every little crevice making you forget those two disgusting men even exist, imprinting only Jungkook’s lips and scent in your skin. “Are you better now? No more bad thoughts?” He asks, head resting on your chest. “Yes, and I also want to say sorry, I shouldn't have reacted like I did, it only led to trouble.” He smiles and kisses between your breasts once again, then looks up and also captures your lips in a slow and tangy kiss, something to remember. After your quick reunion, Jungkook tells you all that has happened in the city and with his father, and how the government wants him to take his father’s place and become a general. You listen to all his worries, you cry together and laugh together, sharing some love in between. You stay up all night just talking and catching up, and until dawn arrives he also reveals that you two have to move away again, in the countryside this time. They have a vacation house there, and since the enemy started getting closer and closer, it would be best for you to remain in a safer and unpopulated area. Even though not pleased with the plan, you comply, knowing that he only wants what’s best for you, and getting you hurt or potentially killed is not in any of his strategies.

After all that you fall into a deep slumber, entangled in each other’s warmth, even though both of your heads were clouded with worry, you at least have each other, and from now on without any run-aways. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11 September 1956 After all that happened you wanted to stay and celebrate Jungkook’s 26th birthday, still hoping for some more time together, however, you were shortly after sent alone to the location of his vacation home. A beautiful, cozy house, with a big yard and a lake behind. It looked straight out of paradise. Jungkook kept sending you letters when he was away and couldn’t contact you on the landline, he promised to come and visit somewhere around mid september, before he will take on a dangerous mission, trying to annihilate all the enemy’s camps from your region.

You were scared to say the least. You were seeing him less and less and now he was about to go to war and fight for your region’s freedom. But you waited patiently, hoping that he will arrive soon so you can get a piece of his love once again. Possibly even the last, but you didn’t want to let those thoughts linger around your mind, he was a strong guy, you knew he could lead such missions with minimum damages done and high success rate. And so you waited, day after day, from sunrise till dusk. He promised you, and you knew he would come. Tonight was no special, September began warm in the beginning, but right now the cold started to settle more and more. It was just like you were feeling, the warmth you once felt was slowly losing its power, making you grow colder without him by your side. Putting one more log in the fireplace you sit down, eyes glaring into the open flames who burn hot and red. It’s quiet. But not even the quietness lasts long once you can hear a car stopping in front of your house, heart starting to beat faster, mind racing. He’s home.

With quick steps you rush to the door opening it, in front of you a tall figure, dressed in military attire, his smile bright when he sees your figure. You jump in his arms knowing he will catch you, and he does, even though outside was cold, his arms felt just as warm as ever. His lips even come in contact with yours, leaving a sweet feeling behind. “You came.” Voice barely a whisper, fighting back tears since you’ve cried too much lately. “I promised.” He also whispers to you, leading you both back inside, you still wrapped around in his arms. Once your feet were on the ground you could examine him, wondering if he’s eating properly, or taking care of him the way he always did. He looks almost the same, only his eyes seem a little tired, but they hold so many emotions that is easy to forget about it. “I can’t stay long.” He says, voice sweet but sad, you look down, staring at his feet. “You just came, now you have to leave?” You ask a little upset. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, tomorrow we set trace for the first camp. I wish I could've come sooner to spend some time with you, but I had so many things to take care of, they didn’t allow me to leave.” His hands caress your cheek, taking in that you were upset, making his heart swell with pain. But it was for the best, his duty is to keep the people safe, you being his first priority. 

And since the attacks started being more and more aggressive, his only choice was to send you away from population until he manages to take everything under control. “When will I see you again?” You ask, biting down the sobs that want to erupt. A war could take months if not years. Jungkook bites his bottom lip and looks away from you, his voice a whisper when he says “I don’t know…”. You fall on the rocking chair, head in your hands, breaking down in the end. He comes closer and kneels in front of you, resting his forehead on top of your head, breathing heavily while trying to surpass his own tears. “Please…just stay tonight.” You mutter, looking up at him with doe, teary eyes. “I can’t, love.” He tries to resist his desires to hold and love you. “You can leave in the morning, just stay tonight, please!.” You plead, and plead, begging him to hold you tight like your life depends on it. He swears and looks away, getting up from the ground and straight to the phone on your wall, finally giving in. He calls at his base to inform them he will be there first thing in the morning, but he can’t make it tonight. He turns to you giving a small smile. “You see the things you do to me? Didn’t I say a while ago to not bring me trouble?” You laugh and open your arms for him, not taking long to feel them wrap around you. “I wonder how you didn’t see I was trouble from the first time we met?” Your voice suave, enchanting even, luring him in even more. “Oh God, how I missed you.” He says leaving kisses down your neck. “Didn’t you say you weren’t a believer when we first met?” He grins at you unbuttoning your shirt, eyes never leaving yours, making you feel hotter than the fire burning next to you. “You start to believe a little when this is the woman you have next to you.” You laugh caressing his hair gently, looking how he manages to take off your top, bra following right after. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this, still the hottest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He says managing to make you blush. “Let’s go upstairs.” You say trying to pull him up, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, his arms carry you to the couch nearby, laying you down on it with him on top. “Here?” You ask unsure. “Yes, here, I can’t risk letting too much time pass by.” His hands worked fast, stripping you both of your clothes and turning you around to lay on your stomach. “What are you doing?” You ask looking back, but he doesn’t respond, only maneuvers your body in such a way that your bum is up in the air, making you exposed for him. 

“Jungkook, what is this?” You ask concerned. “Relax, I’ll make you feel good in just a bit.” And then you feel it, the tip of his member running slowly from your bundle of nerves till your entrance. You gasp at the feeling, having been deprived of touch for so long made you so wet and ready. He runs up and down a few more times before you could feel him penetrate your warm walls. “Honey, this is.” Your words get stuck in your throat when he fills you up fully without any warning or preparation, but you were so excited to have him again that he just slid right up without much worry. “You take me so well, so ready for me all the time, didn’t need preparation either.” He says, hands gripping the flesh of your ass firmly while moving in and out. “I missed you, that’s why.” You manage to make out through your moans. He whines when he realizes he touched your sweet spot, making you yelp loudly, hand thrown back trying to grip his wrist. He starts going a little faster making you see stars and shapes all around the room. “I’m close.” You say, high approaching at a rapid state, but in your disbelief he denies you and stops, pulling out completely making you whine. “Why? I was almost there.” He’s never denied you in the past, why now? “Don’t be greedy, soul. I need to have you for a little longer. Who knows when I can get another glimpse at this sweet pussy.” You gasp in embarrassment as he turns you around, your hands already gripping his strong back. He kisses you once again, longer, harder and so much sweeter before entering you again. This felt different than anything you’ve done with him. Hot bubbles of pleasure were bursting around you, both your bodies warmer than the burning fire. It felt so raw and so pure, just sincere love being exchanged like it was for the last time. Getting closer to the edge once again, your husband seemingly close too, this time. He rests his head on your shoulder, his breath tickling your neck. You scratch his back when maybe the best orgasm he’s ever given you washes over, followed by the feeling of warm cum stuffing your walls. For a few minutes the only things you could hear in the room were the creaking of the fire and two bodies trying so hard to catch their panting breaths, foreheads resting against each other. 

Jungkook raises his head to look at your figure, your eyes closed in a blissful haze. He smiles sadly knowing he can’t be here much longer, lips coming closer, catching yours in another kiss. “I love you.” He says, your eyes meeting just like the first day, this time instead of terror, only love and care could be seen. “I love you too.”

All night was filled with love, your two bodies melting into one another in front of the fireplace. Jungkook made sure you knew how much he loved you and assured you that you will meet again someday. Opening your eyes, trying to adjust to the light that was peeking through your bedroom window. You scanned the room remembering the events that happened last night making you smile, turning around you expected to see the face of your sleeping husband, but the bed was cold. You frown, knowing what it ment, he already left. 

He did say goodbye last night, but you were too tired to acknowledge it. You get up from the bed, legs almost giving up. You were dressed up in warm pajamas and even cleaned out, he must have done it for you while you were falling asleep. Going down the stairs, the house was empty, the car was not in front of your door anymore, the fire long gone. On the kitchen table there was a singular piece of paper, a letter. “My dear wife, Y/N. I’ve been gone for so long the past few months, busy and away. Forgive me. I know I might have never been the best husband for you, I always felt like I’ve been depriving you of the freedom you always craved for. But, believe me, all that I do is for you to get that freedom one day. I might be a hypocrite, making you wait over and over for me to come home just to give you bits and pieces of what you truly deserve.

And I thought of letting you go, having you achieve your own dreams and goals, but I am a greedy man…

It does not matter how far you run, it makes me run even faster after you. It does not matter how much you push me away, it just makes me want to come to you even more.

So, please, forgive me for everything. Not being there for you, letting you in the dark, wandering around uncertain paths. 

And in my shame I ask for you to wait for me once again, carry the thought of me in your head, and the tag I gave you close to your heart so you don’t forget me.

Until we meet again, my soul.

Yours to love, Jeon Jungkook.”

Soft tears fall onto the piece of paper, making the ink run, you fall to the ground clutching the piece close to your chest. 

How can you even forget him? You are so grateful for what he’s done for you. You smile, wiping your tears. The silver tag dangling in the air. You bring it close to your lips, leaving a warm kiss on his name, the name of the man who makes you feel so much. “I’ll wait for you, my love.” You whisper, clutching everything tight to you, praying he’ll come home safe and unharmed. One day you’ll have him back in your arms again.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

31 December 1956

The last day of December.

Outside heavy snow is ripping through the night sky, letting a thick layer gather on the ground. In the suburbs a house could be seen, on the front porch the snow has been swept away. Looking towards the house, the man admires the scenery in front of him. Inside only a small light could be seen coming out from the front window, lighting his way. He takes small steps through the crunching snow, feet planted right outside the door when he’s hit with the warmth of home. His home. He doesn’t knock, only opens the door slowly, letting his frame inside.

In front of the fireplace, rocking on a chair, a woman could be seen. Her hands quickly knitting what seemed to be a small blanket. His eyes warm up at the sight in front of him, and she finally acknowledges his presence, stopping her hands to look at him. He smiles, taking a step closer until his eyes widen in surprise. With love filled eyes she looks at him, while her small hands uncover what seem to be the small outline of a belly. “Welcome home.” She says, opening her arms, making his eyes burn with happy tears, gently throwing himself in them.

Resting his head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat,

December has never felt so warm before.

[cuinaminute229]

With death comes life

pairing: Agatha x Rio x reader

summary: To fall in love with both life and death is almost impossible. They contradict each other, they are different sides to the same coin. Agatha once managed the impossible. But time and grief can break almost anything, and this time it breaks what feels like everything.

a/n: there will be more parts to this. I find this dynamic rather interesting and I am definitely going to explore it. not a lot of warning in this part except for mild swearing. slightly protective Rio.

...

Life and Death go hand in hand.

One can not exist without the other. 

It’s a partnership that transcends time itself.

Agatha Harkness does not understand this. She can not, because for the longest time all she has ever known is death.

All she has ever done is take. She takes and takes and takes until there is nothing left to give. Until there is nothing left you can give.

Death will love her. Life will despise her. 

That is how it will be for centuries.

…

The witches’ road is a place that does not welcome you. It fights you every step of the way.

It is a graveyard. It takes what it wants without thoughts of sympathy or solace. It digs up fear and trauma like gold. It twists and stretches and tears the desires of witches brave enough to step foot on the road.

You hate it and yet you are summoned.

The dirt between your fingers is a sensation that feels as familiar as holding death's hand. Clawing your way from beneath the earth is not something you're very familiar with.

You're not usually summoned alongside her, this is different.

The echoes of multiple screams ring in your ears as you crawl your way out of a fresh grave, growling through clenched teeth when you finally break the surface.

Your joints and bones pop as you twist and jerk to realign what's been broken. You swear you're going to ring the witch's neck that's summoned you. 

You tilt your head and feel a crack in your neck, you grimace before you jerk your head and relief seeps into your muscles.

With a flex of your fingers you adjust your clothes before the colors of the leaves scattered amongst the ground catches your eye.

Just as the realization settles and you finally understand where you are, a hand that brushes against the length of your back is the only thing that seems to ground you. You lean into her touch with a slow forced exhale.

Rio is here, that is the only comfort you feel. 

You absolutely hate the witches’ road.

When you finally glance up at the witches who were just screaming bloody murder, you notice her right away. 

Her thick brown hair falling against her shoulders, the white button up shirt that complements her dress pants, the locket that’s always with her. 

Agatha Harkness and this coven of four have summoned you and Rio to the road. 

The rage that heats your blood is a sensation that you will never get used to, it burns like the sun and yet it's all you can feel as you glare daggers at her.

The only thing that stops you from lunging at her is Rio’s quick reaction. The hand that was resting on your back has encircled your waist, she tugs you back against her, resting her chin on your shoulder. 

“Easy there tiger.” Her soft chuckle of amusement is not distraction enough from what you want to say. 

“What the fuck are you doing Agatha?” Your words are harsh and yet you feel no sympathy when she flinches at your tone.

“Excuse me?” The witch in the pink dress places a hand over her heart like you personally offended her. 

“You’re excused.” You pay her no mind, your eyes are only on Agatha. “Now answer the question.”

Agatha says nothing. Her eyes look from you to Rio and back like she can barely believe what she’s seeing. Like she didn’t intend for this to happen.

“Cat got your tongue?” Rio teases, her smile predatory, the hold on your waist a touch possessive. 

“How did you—?” This time she points at the two of you. 

“We were in the neighborhood.” Rio interrupts her with a casual response. There is no need to explain further, she will know the truth.

“But uhh,” The youngest member of the coven, a teenage boy, lifts his hand up like he’s waiting to voice his question. You frown at the notion, not quite understanding.

“Yes Teen?” The oldest of the group turns to look at the kid who answers once the attention turns to him. 

“Why are there two of them?” He gestures between you and Rio, his confusion clear as he then turns to look at Agatha like she has all the answers.

You scoff at the thought, she knows nothing. Not when it comes to you and especially not when it comes to Rio. That was made very clear centuries ago.

Agatha glares at you as if this time you truly have offended her but all you do is glare right back.

The moment of eye contact drags on longer than you thought it would. The witch's pride is a strong thing and you know she hates backing down first but you are not in the mood to give in. 

You refuse to give her what she wants.

When fingers dance along the thin fabric that covers your ribs you jerk involuntarily, turn to glare at Rio. She gives you an innocent smile but her eyes burn with something that silently tells you to calm down.

“Doesn't matter.” Agatha's anger is a harsh bite, hiding the vulnerability that comes with seeing the both of you. “We have a green witch. Now let's go.”

The whoosh of her coat is followed by a slow breath that relaxes your shoulders. You can not let your anger get the best of you while here. The road will only take it and twist it until it gets a chance to throw it in your face.

“Being summoned is so much fun isn't it? Just like old times.” Rio teases you, presses a soft kiss to your shoulder in a silent apology. 

Before you can turn and properly question her about why you are here a voice calls your attention. “Uhh hello?” 

You roll your eyes but turn to glance at the three witches that have lingered after Agatha stormed off.

“Hello.” You merely say in return. You owe these witches nothing more.

“So uh did we summon two green witches?” The witch with red in her hair gestures to the two of you. You feel Rio shake her head from where her face is still pressed into your shoulder, her chuckle is low enough that the others do not hear it. 

You find her amusement endearing and annoying.

“To keep things simple, yes.” 

The continued looks of confusion merely make you smirk at the unsuspecting women. 

With one last brush of fingers over your ribs, one last ghost of a kiss that tickles the skin of your neck, Rio steps away. Her smile is bright, the twinkle in her dark eyes promise nothing but mischief and self entertainment.

“We're supposed to walk this thing right?” She steps around you and points toward the road. When she only gets a few shrugs of consensus she hums in response before leaving you behind with these confused witches.

You shake your head with a soft smile, of course she would find a way to ignore all your questions for even just a little bit longer.

“Let's get this over with.”

...

part 2

[catchastarorten]

—A long day.

Pairing: Cho Sang-woo x wife!fem!reader

Summary: being a professor at the same university your husband taught at was exhausting at times, but at least he knew how to comfort you... that was until a student walked in to ask you a question about an assignment.

Content: fluff, you two are both professors in this au, kisses/neck kisses, making out, caresses, an unlucky student unfortunately walking in on the two of you, English isn't my first language, mistakes should be present, not proofread, sorry!

Word Count: ~ 1.4k

The classroom was quiet now, emptied of students and the hum of chatter that had filled it just hours ago. It had been a long day of lectures, discussions, and endless paperwork. The only sound was the scratch of your pen against a stack of papers that seemed never-ending.

Your head ached slightly from the day, eyes burning from reading through assignment after assignment. You were so caught up in your work that you didn’t notice when someone entered the room.

It was the warm pressure around your waist that made you still, your breath catching for just a second. The familiar scent of him—clean, crisp cologne with the faintest hint of coffee—settled around you, and before you could turn to look, his fingers gently traced along your hip, caressing you in slow, deliberate strokes.

You exhaled slowly after seeing him, running a tired hand down your face. “You scared me.”

Sang-woo hummed lowly, and you swore you saw a rare hint of amusement in his eyes. His hold on you tightened just slightly, his warm body hovering behind yours. “You were too focused. Didn’t even hear me walk in.”

You leaned back into him instinctively, his warmth comforting against the cool air of the empty classroom. “Mmm... maybe because I’m exhausted.”

“I figured,” he murmured, his voice smooth, soft. His hands slowly traced along your waist before settling against your hips again, grounding you. “Long day?”

You let out a small sigh, finally setting down your pen. “The longest. I swear, every student had a question after class today. And half of them didn’t even need to stay. They just wanted to chat.”

His lips curled into a small smile. “You’re too nice to them.”

“They’re still just kids,” you shrugged, though you couldn’t hide the tired smile that tugged at your lips. “Besides, if I don’t help them, who will?”

He sighed, and you felt him shift behind you, his hands moving up to your shoulders, kneading them gently.

“That’s exactly why you run yourself into the ground.” His thumbs pressed into a particularly sore spot, making you hum softly. “You need to take breaks.”

You reached up, covering one of his hands with yours. “I know.”

“You say that,” he started, fingers still working against your tense muscles. “But here you are, still at your desk after hours, barely aware of your surroundings.”

“I was grading,” you defended, though you knew it was a weak argument.

You turned to look up at Sang-woo fully—dark eyes watching you intently, a quiet concern hidden beneath the usual composed expression he wore so well.

“You look tired,” he said, softer this time.

You sighed. “I feel tired.”

He studied you for a moment before his hands shifted, one sliding up from your waist to cup your cheek. His thumb brushed over your skin, warm and reassuring. He tilted his head just slightly, eyes flickering between yours before he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips—just a soft press at first, barely there. “Then relax.”

You huffed a quiet laugh but said nothing, closing your eyes briefly as he stroked his thumbs along your skin. It was so easy to sink into him, to let go of the stress clinging to your bones when he touched you like this.

When you opened your eyes again, his gaze was softer than before, his face so close that his breath brushed against your lips.

The moment stretched, anticipation curling through you, before he kissed you again—deeper this time, slower, as if he had all the time in the world.

When he pulled back, he didn’t go far, his forehead brushing against yours. “Let’s go home,” he murmured, as if he was making a statement, not a question.

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

His lips barely curved. “I figured you’d say that.”

“Mm.” You smiled a little. “But maybe I can be convinced.”

Before you could find a reaction from his face, he kissed you again, deeper this time, more deliberate. His lips moved slowly against yours, unhurried yet insistent, as if savoring the taste of you.

Your fingers found the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric lightly as you kissed him back, letting yourself sink into the feeling of him.

When you shifted, pressing closer, his back met the board behind him with a quiet thud, a quiet muffled noise came from his lips. His hands wandered, sliding over your waist, your back, pulling you just a little closer as your mouths moved together in a slow, intoxicating rhythm.

The collar of his neatly buttoned shirt was slightly askew now, the usual composure he carried beginning to unravel in the way his breath grew heavier, in the way his hands roamed with a little less restraint.

When he finally broke away from your lips, his mouth found your jaw, then lower, pressing slow, deliberate kisses down your neck. His lips were warm, the press of them making your breath stutter as his fingers traced lazy patterns along your back.

Before you realized it, he was guiding you, his touch gentle but sure, until your back met the edge of your desk. He lifted you onto it effortlessly, stepping between your legs and barely breaking the kiss.

He wasn’t rushing—he never did. Instead, he took his time with each kiss, each touch. His fingers slid to your hips as he pulled you even closer, lips never leaving yours for too long.

You were wrapped up in him as you sat on the edge of your desk. His lips trailed away from yours again, tracing a path of featherlight kisses down your neck.

You exhaled, tilting your head slightly to give him more room, your fingers threading through his hair. His breath was warm against your skin, his hands steady as they held you close.

And then—

“U-Um—Professor?”

The voice cut through the room like a knife.

You and Sang-woo froze.

Your head turned toward the doorway, where a student stood wide-eyed, gripping a notebook tightly to their chest as if it was a shield.

The poor thing looked like they had just walked in on something they definitely should not have seen.

You reacted first, pulling back quickly and clearing your throat as heat rushed to your face, shifting off of the desk easily. Sang-woo straightened as well, adjusting his collar and stepping back just enough to create a more appropriate distance between you.

The student, clearly horrified, looked between the two of you as if trying to process exactly what they had interrupted. “I—um—I just had a question about the assignment, but I can—come back later!”

You waved a hand, trying to compose yourself despite the very obvious tension lingering in the air. “No... no, it’s fine! What’s your question?”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Sang-woo trying—and fumbling—to button up the collar of his shirt, running a hand over his slightly ruffled hair before slipping back into his usual composed demeanor.

The student hesitated, clearly dying to flee but also too dedicated to their grades to abandon the reason they had come in. “...It’s about the essay. The word count requirement—uh—do quotes count toward it?”

You cleared your throat again, pushing some loose hair behind your ear in an attempt to gather yourself. “Yes, they do, but try not to rely too heavily on them. Your analysis should still be the main focus.”

The student nodded quickly, still looking like they were processing the absolute disaster they had just walked into. “R-Right! Got it! Thank you, Professor! I’ll just—um—I’ll go now!”

And before you could say anything else, they spun on their heels and bolted out of the room.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then, you turned to see your husband failing to hide a smile.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Why didn’t we lock the door?”

Sang-woo let out a quiet exhale, stepping closer again. “A lesson learned.” He leaned in, pressing one last kiss—soft and lingering—against your forehead before murmuring, “I'm assuming we could go home now.”

With your heart still racing and your face still warm, you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah… yeah, okay. I’m done for the day.”

Hopefully that student still shows up tomorrow for your class?

[mingis-orangejuice]

Asking the L&Ds boys "What are we?" Part 4: Sylus

Summary: MC and her boy have been in a sort of situation-ship but MC wants to know why they haven't officially called her their girlfriend

a/n: This ended up being much longer than I thought so I'm making it into 4 parts (one for each boy) Here's Sylus' part its the longest part, but also my favourite. hope you like it. also, I probably mixed up Luke and Kieran multiple times so just ignore it lol.

Genres/Warnings: lots of Luke and Kieran shenanigans, a bit of angst, fluff, kinda slow burn

Word count: 1936

Previous Parts 1 2 3

You were spending the day with Luke and Kieran, it was supposed to be with sylus but something came up. He didn’t want you to waste your day off so he arranged for them to escort you around Linkon and basically do whatever you want for the whole day. While you were happy to have a chill day with your bodyguards/friends Luke and Keiran you were really looking forward to spending a whole day with Sylus. But recently lots of things have come up and he kept rescheduling all your dates. Was he trying to tell you something, is this his way of saying he’s not actually interested in you romantically but he’s too chicken to tell you? No, he wouldn’t do that, Sylus is one of the most direct people you know, if he didn’t like you, he’d just say so. So then why does it feel like he’s just stringing you along, when is he going to make you two official?

“MC?...MC?...” Luke’s voice snapped you out of your train of thought. 

“What? sorry I was a little spaced out.” you turn to the twins standing above you while you sit at one of the tables of the Linkon Mall foodcourt.

“I said where do you want to go for lunch? There's so many choices” Luke gestured to the row of different restaurants among the foodcourt.

“We could always have the boss’s favourite, ever since you let him try your instant ramen that's all he asks the chefs to make for him when you’re away,” Kieran suggested as both boys took a seat next to you on the other side of the table. “There's a ramen place right over there”

“Umm… I’m not sure… I’m not really hungry right now” You looked vacantly across the mall foodcourt starting to space out again

“The boss said there's no limit to how much we can spend today so we don’t have to eat here. Or if you can’t decide on what to eat we can buy a bit of everything and you can taste them all” Kieran suggests while taking out Sylus’ black credit card from his pocket.

“You have to eat something, the boss doesn’t want you to skip meals he told us to make sure you eat something or else” Luke warned in a fake threatening voice.

“Well, I guess if I have to in order to save you two from Sylus’ wrath, then I want something homemade, not this cheap generic stuff, so let’s go back to the base and see what we can cook up, what do you say?” 

“Anything for the Boss’s girlfriend,” Kieran said with a smile, he stood up and put out his arm for him to escort you to the car.

“Huh… what did you say?” You stopped reaching for Kieran’s arm at the word girlfriend.

“Anything for the boss’s …girlfriend…. I’m confused, are you not his girlfriend” Kieran looked embarrassed like he might have misread the situation.

“Well yeah…but .. he’s never said it before…so I didn’t think he thought of me as his girlfriend.” you stood awkwardly looking at the floor and playing with your hands.

“Of course he thinks of you that way he gets all smiley when he or anyone else mentions you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the boss smile so much before you came along” Luke grabbed your bags as you guys started to head to the car. “The boss just has a hard time expressing his emotions. ”  he mentioned brightly

“Yeah for the first year of us working for him he pretended not to remember our names cuz he didn’t want to seem soft, even tho he could already tell us apart after the first day even with our masks on.” Kieran said as he looked up to the sky like he was reminiscing on the Good-old-days 

“But he always calls you his girlfriend around us” 

“Right, he even calls you his girlfriend in the task memos he sends us” Luke shows you his phone with all the tasks set out by sylus. He clicks play and a voice recording of Sylus starts. 

“1. As I’ll be away for the day take my girlfriend to the mall and get her anything she wants, to keep her happy

2. Make sure she eats something for lunch, she tends to skip meals and gets really tired halfway through the day because of it. If she doesn’t eat anything, a punishment will be waiting for you upon your return.

3. Carry everything for her no matter how much she buys, rent a truck if you have to, I don’t want her straining herself before tonight’s special event…”

“Wait” you click pause on Luke’s phone. “what event, he never told me about that.” 

“Uhh…oops” Luke quickly puts away his phone “You weren’t supposed to hear that. Just pretend it didn’t happen”

Kieran slaps Luke’s arm “You idiot, that was supposed to be a surprise, the boss is gonna kill us”

“Just what is he planning?” you interrogate the twins. Both of them looked at each other as they opened the car door and helped you in.

“our lips are sealed.” they both said in unison while placing their fingers in an X over their lips

You guys were now in the car on the way back to the base. You’ve fallen silent thinking about this special event. just what kind of event was this? It couldn't be something bad, right? Was he breaking up with you? Is that why he let you use his card with no limit, to give you one final good day then he’d cut you off??? You couldn’t take the suspense anymore, you had to know. You took your phone out of your purse and called Sylus. Your phone was connected to the car’s speakers and Kieran saw that you were calling him and got a little nervous. Sylus picked up almost immediately. 

“Yes, Sweetie? What's wrong, are Luke and Kieran not treating You well, do you need me to get rid of them for you? I’ve been looking for some new Henchmen anyway” He said with a chuckle

“Hey, we’re right here you know?” Kieran said in a hurt voice

“I know, that's why I said it” “Sylus joked

“And you wouldn’t get rid of us, right boss?” Luke asked, “We’re your favourite henchmen, right?”

Sylus completely ignores Luke's question “...So why did you call sweetie? Remember when I said I was very busy today and that we’d see each other later tonight?”

You didn’t want to beat around the bush so you got straight to the point.“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to ask about, what exactly is happening tonight? What's the Special event and why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 

There was silence on the other end and then an annoyed groan. “Did you two tell her?” Sylus sounded like he was about to jump through the phone and punch both of them in the face.

“No boss we promise all she knows is that there’s an event tonight she doesn’t know anything else,” Kieran said frantically “Please don’t get rid of us”

Ignoring them again he sighed. “Where are you right now babe?”

“We were on our way to the base for lunch.” You informed him

“at least those two can do something right” he sighs. “Ok then I’ll be waiting for you at the base and I’ll explain everything.” *Click* he hangs up

Now you were even more curious, what was sylus planning?

“Do you think the boss is really gonna get rid of us?” Luke asked you in a scared voice.

“I doubt it, you guys mess up all the time and he hasn’t gotten rid of you yet, what's one more mess up” you say in a joking tone “Plus if he’s as nice as you say he is, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Later back at the base you all walk into the living room to see Sylus sitting on the couch reading a book. “Oh, you’re back.” Sylus puts down his book and pats the space next to him for you to join him on the couch. “Come, sit. Let’s talk.” as you sit he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer. He then looked up to where the twins were standing. “You two, I’ll deal with you later. Leave us be for now.”

“Yes boss.” they both say and hurriedly walk out of the room.

On the way to the base after the phone call you just couldn’t stop thinking about what this event could be and mixed with your thoughts from earlier you were only coming up with every bad result it could be. All those thoughts and emotions were boiling inside and before Sylus could say anything they overflowed “What are we?” 

“Huh?” Sylus looked confused “Sweetie, what do you mean?”

“Why do you keep avoiding me and why won't you call me your girlfriend? Apparently, you’ll say it in front of everyone else but me.” You moved back so you were out of his grip 

“Those two, I’ll fire them for sure this time,” He says under his breath.

“And what is this event? Why didn’t you tell me about it, is it about me? Did I do something wrong?” Your voice slightly cracked on the last word and your eyes started to get misty.

“Woah, slow down, if I knew it would make you feel like this I would have explained sooner.” He pulls you close again, holds your face in his palms and wipes your tears with his thumbs  “First, We are Sylus and MC the strongest and most feared couple in the N109 Zone.” He chuckled. “Second, I’m sorry that I made you feel this way. I knew you were curious but I didn’t know the curiosity would get to you this much. I wasn’t avoiding you, I’ve been setting up the special event that I’ll tell you more about in due time. But, as for your third question…” Sylus pulls your head in closer and places a soft kiss on your lips that nearly takes your breath away. He pulls away and looks at you with a smirk “You’ve also never called me your boyfriend so I guess we’re even” 

“Yeah well…I didn’t want to assume… I” You start to stutter both from the kiss and his accusation.

He stops you and places another kiss on your lips “I guess we both felt that way” 

“So then what about the event?” you’re now sitting closer to him his hands on your waist to keep you close.

“Oh yeah, the event… I was gonna let you watch while I fire Luke and Kieran. I set up events every time I want to fire one of my men, why do you think I had you keep them out of the house the whole day?” He joked.

You softly slapped his chest and rolled your eyes “ I know you’re joking those two might be idiots but you’d never fire them. Come on seriously what is it really?”

“Ok, I'll tell you, if you can tell me something first, what day is it today? He asks, hoping you’ll know the answer.

“Uh, Sunday?” you say confused as to why this day of the week had any significance.

“You can’t even remember yet you want me to call you my girlfriend,” Sylus said pretending to be offended “It’s the anniversary of when a little kitten first wandered into the N109 Zone and…” he pulls you into a hug “ into my life”

[fishnapple]

The 5th house - What kind of lover are you

About me | Masterpost

As the 5th house is 2nd from the 4th house, it's the tangible manifestation of your core, the creation of your inner emotional world, your heart. From it, your heart connects with the world around you. From it, love is given out to the world. The 5th house is generally regarded as the house of "romance", I think more specifically, it shows your "part" or "role" in that romance, your side of the story, who you are in a love story, what kind of lover are you.

♥ 5th house in Aries/ Mars in 5th house - "The Ardent Lover"

The one who sees love as the purest principle, something that needs to be revered and pursued with dedication and passion. No mind games, no dirty tricks, no manipulation, no timid guessing, just an honest declaration of love. To be the apple in your eyes is to be placed upon a pedestal. Once you're in love, you put your all in, it will be their greatest focus and inspiration. Each heartbreak is followed by rising up with a new hope. Love never loses its lustre to you. You are direct, straightforward and impulsive in your advances. Your passion and desire rule your actions. Competitions and the act of chasing make your adrenaline rushing. You want to "win", victories, whether over other competitors or your own lover, is of paramount importance. The need to conquer can make you seek competition where it's not needed. Can turn indignant and defensive when your love and faithfulness are being doubted. You can be perceived as "aggressive" and "rough" by the more sensitive people. Physical intimacy and physical touch, in general, are key to keeping your love burning.

♥ 5th house in Taurus/ Venus in 5th house - "The Indulging Lover"

Love to you is like honey, natural, nutritious, sweet, fragranced, viscous. Something that you want to dip yourself and your lover in, indulge and sink deeper and deeper into it. Love is simple yet eternal, "never let you go". A true romantic, you breathe love to keep your heart alive. Everything looks more beautiful when you have someone to love, and that someone will be the object of your adoration. You don't go out of your way to pursue someone, has anyone ever seen Venus do the chasing? No, lovers come to you, willingly, because they know that it's futile to resist the lure of Venus. You attract, by being your most beautiful self, by subtly sending signals to all the senses of your person. It can be quite a sensory overloaded experience for your lover. It's not easy to please all of your desires, not easy to turn your heat all the way up, but once it's ignited, it's not easy to snuff it out, fierce devotion. To an impulsive lover, you can seem to be slow and passive, to a patient and passionate lover, you're the forest they want to get lost in.

♥ 5th house in Gemini/ Mercury in 5th house - "The Exploring Lover"

The one who loves with their mind, you can be confused all the time about whether you're attracted to someone simply because you have interesting conversations with them or if there is anything more to that person. Love is a mental pursuit, a chess game, a word play that you want to go on and on. Love is light and exciting. The longest conversation. You show your love by communicating with your lover, to keep the connection line going. Teasing, asking questions, about them, about everything that comes to your mind. "Is there anyone willing to look at my mind and be willing to let me look at yours?". A simple smirk, two hands brushing each other, entwined fingers, a sparkle in the eyes, a hearty laugh and then giggles, those things can melt your heart and in turn, you can melt other's hearts with those. You take your lover to a wonderland, where your minds can be free to play, but also calm enough to rest. Life and love is an endless adventure, and you need a companion who can tag along, who can play juggling with you. Being held down and bored, in any sense, are your greatest nightmares. You want to have sweet dreams only, but nightmares can grab you if you don't focus and pay attention.

♥ 5th house in Cancer/ Moon in 5th house: "The Enveloping Lover"

Love is like a flood that washes over both you and your lover. The shared experience of being enveloped by emotions of all kinds, both the highs and lows, nothing is spared. You search for a lover who can allow you to feel safe enough to experience a love that can feel so engulfing at times. It's that emotional safety, knowing that you can reveal your full heart to somebody, to be spontaneous and moody without being judged. Being loved by you is like being wrapped in nostalgia of a time when everything was simple and pure, when everything was safe and taken care of, there's a childlike playfulness and simple quality to your love. To someone who didn't get to have those actual memories, you can create that memory for them, as if you created an alternative past for them. "Love" is synonymous with "Protection", you want both of you to protect each other, from the harsh world, from the demons inside, to create a home so safe that one doesn't want to get out of, one yearns only for it wherever they go. It's hard for you to let go of a lover, and it's also hard for them to let go of you. The hold may wax and wane, but never disappears completely.

♥ 5th house in Leo/ Sun in 5th house: "The Shining Lover"

Love, the warm sunlight that nurtures your heart. You are like a tree when in love, while artificial light can sustain you. You truly thrive only when you can have the most natural light source, the strongest and purest of them all. Authenticity, a love that doesn't hide or shy away, no hidden motives, no twisted desires, just pure exhilaration, basking in the glow of love. The love you give is unfiltered, as if you're giving your own heart away. Not everyone is capable of taking care of it properly, you learn the lesson of protecting your own heart and be more discerning of whom you can let in. Even then, the natural impulse is to spread whatever goodness inside you, out into the world. Being in love makes your life feel more colourful and lively. And you, in turn, wish to inspire your lover just like how you're inspired, it pains you to see a sinking spirit. You instil vitality into your lover's heart, making their heart beat to the rhythm of life. Some can feel your love too bright and burning, shying away from it, trying to darken it. This leaves you puzzled, you might even attempt to dim your light, but your dignity won't allow you to do that for long. No tree stops blooming just because one or two humans didn't appreciate it.

♥ 5th house in Virgo/ Mercury in 5th house: "The Devoted Lover"

Love is the quiet thunder that rumbles beneath the cool, serene surface of your heart. You want to build a lasting love, yes, "build", love doesn't strike you like lightning that makes you busted into intense fireworks, love is like knitting, one stitch at a time, stitch by stitch, line by line, until you get a cosy sweater that keeps you warm for many years to come, it takes skill and dedication. You also extend that comfort to your lover. To love is to worry, to care, to be there for that person. You would want your lover to thrive, to be spared of the burdens of responsibilities, you're willing to take on those burdens for them, to make their life better. But a truly fulfilling love is when you can receive that same devotion from your lover. You also need to be cared for just as much as you care for them. But sometimes, your lover's love doesn't measure up to the "silent" standard that you have, in a way, no one can love you perfectly like how you want them to. While knowing that, you still choose to be by their side, because you accept their imperfections, their imperfect love, because that's how you love.

♥ 5th house in Libra/ Venus in 5th house: "The Ideal Lover"

Venus's mirror, love reflects back at you all the beautiful things about the world and yourself. You also want to reflect them back on your lover. You can find yourself mirroring your lover, encouraging their shining qualities, making them aware of their own virtues, and simultaneously erasing their vices. You can turn your lover into a prince charming, a lovely princess, because you're one. You want you and your lover to be two beautiful human beings, both inside out, to walk on this Earth hand in hand. The words "we" and "us" have enormous significance to you. You seek to beautify everything, everyone you touch, to let them see the goodness in this world, yes, you're an optimistic lover, never one to lose hope for an ideal love. Love is like a harmonious melody that plays soothingly everywhere you go, everywhere you look. Harmony, peace and indulgence, the gifts you offer your lover, uplift their spirit, inspire their creativity, soothe their soul, and spoil them rotten with sweetness. You find yourself more alive, more beautiful when you're in love. You can fall in love with love itself. You seek harmony with your lover, nothing should be one-sided, everything should be equal give and take, a delicate dance.

♥ 5th house in Scorpio/ Pluto in 5th house: "The Burning Lover"

The molten volcanic soil underneath the calm and cool lake, whose soul is brave enough to venture there? Love for you is an all-consuming force that sweeps away all commonsense. You want love to be a devouring force, swallowing whole both you and your lover into the pit of the unknown. You push for more, to feel more, to be more. The word "mild" can't find a long-lasting place in your dictionary. Everything, joy, pain, longing, existence, all have to reach a boiling point in order for you to feel truly in love. A love too safe, too soft, too peaceful might get ignored by you. You chase the extremes, sometimes along the way, get burnt yourself, but often, you leave behind burnt lovers. You want to be your lover's only one as they're to you. You want to be the only existence that your lover seeks. There can be the issue of who dominates who, who has the upper hand, love can feel like a power play. You're vigilant against betrayals, you need absolute loyalty, making your lover jump through endless hoops to prove their love to you. Sometimes, you could feel so exhausted by the all-or-nothing love, but you would rather be like that than to be content with a "good enough" affection.

♥ 5th house in Sagittarius/ Jupiter in 5th house: "The Expanding Lover"

Have you ever felt like there's an infinite well of love you can give? not just to your lover but to life. You love someone because they're part of life, to love is to live. Love for you is like a ray of sunshine that wakes you up in the morning, or the breezy wind stroking your hair when you're standing in the middle of a field or on top of a mountain, a piney scent that lures you wandering deep into the woods. Love makes you want to move, explore, enjoy, and celebrate. So you can't feel fulfilled in a relationship that makes you feel small, that shackles your feet, that makes you lose hope. "Potential" is the word, as long as you can feel a potential for a future, you want to give your all, to take a gamble. Fortune favours the bold, you will find your luck in love when you're free and adventurous, when you inspire others. A benevolent lover who wants to help, guide, to protect their lover. Grand romantic gestures, spontaneous expressions of love, laughter that makes your cheeks hurt, deep conversations that stirs your mind, those can be the secret ingredients to capture your heart and also what you use to capture others.

♥ 5th house in Capricorn/ Saturn in 5th house: "The Steadfast Lover"

The life investment you make with your heart, love seems like a tangible thing that you can touch, that you can nurture and turn into a masterpiece of a lifetime. Things of value should be able to last for eternity, that's your motto and your belief in love. Love for you is not fickle like the wind or soft like a cotton candy, love is the steady heartbeat, the more you take care of it, the healthier it is. Thrilling adventures, passionate proclamations of love, over adorned for attention, those things pass right out of your vision, what is that? definitely not what you expect from your lover. You expect commonsense and predictability, you expect constant loyalty and devotion, quiet touches and deep gazes, the hand that holds yours when you're in pain, the silent smile that says "I will be here for you, with you". You stoke your fire with unwavering effort, never letting the flame burn out of hands or die from neglect, just enough to keep both lovers warm and safe. Some say you're picky, that you should loosen up and just give yourself to love, but you're a visionary, you look for love that you can work hard for, that can last the test of time, so no rushing.

♥ 5th house in Aquarius/ Uranus in 5th house: "The Whimsical Lover"

"Love at first sight" probably was invented by you. The sensation of being pierced by Cupid's bow, being struck by lightning, being hit by love out of nowhere is not something you're unfamiliar with. Love visits you like a summer downpour, a breeze that sends fragrances from afar to your nose, a sprouting that grows overnight, a laughter that bursts out amidst deadly silence. Love comes to you unexpectedly, and you find love in unexpected places. To love is to be free, the greatest gift you can give your lover and yourself is freedom, to be yourselves, to find safety in the ever-changing current of life. Who can say staying still is safe and stable? For you, movement is what nurtures a connection. You don't let your love stay stagnant, the novelties are your stable diet. Your love is not for the stubborn of heart, though you can be pretty stubborn and rebellious yourself when you're in love, it's a contradiction that perplex and vex your lover, but it's also the allure that they want to get a hold of, not that they will be successful, but they will try anyway. Like trying to catch lightning, trying to grab light. The only way they will ever get close to you is to be themselves and hope that one day, you two will stumble upon each other as fate wills it.

♥ 5th house in Pisces/ Neptune in 5th house: "The Dream Lover"

This is someone who can elevate the experience of falling in love and being in love to the height of poetry, of songs that lovers sing together. Love is art, art is love, love is the soothing balm that erases all the pain, but also the blind that covers your eyes. Oh, the extent you're willing to go in the name of love. Everything seems to take on more vivid colours, music seems to accompany you everywhere you go, you hear your love through the songs that randomly play in the mart, through the absentminded remark of a stranger, through the flowers that sway gently in the wind. You hear your heart echo back at you through the eyes of your lover. While your eyes hold an ocean that promises blissful abandonment, endless treasure and a subtle warning of being drowned, but others are too busy getting mesmerised by you to stay lucid enough to heed your warning. How many lovers have you drowned? How many seas have you swum alone, longing for a rescuer who can take you to land and keep you warm? You need a love story that feels like a fairy tale, but you also need a love that is real.

[sleepy-fiction]

FIRES OF SHAO LAO.

lin lie x f!reader x shao lao 🐉🔥 NSFW

syn: once a month on the full moon, shao lao possesses your club member, lin lie. on a uni camping trip, you get chased through the forests and pinned down by lin; whose fuelled with the fires of shao lao. his only desire? to fill you with the seed of god's and men's

tgs: bdsm, powerplay, hunter/prey, cunnilingus (fem reciving), breeding kink, oviposition, laying an egg, dubcon(?), brat/brat tamer dynamics, possesion, lin physically over powers reader, p n v, freaky and cringe

an: after days of trying to figure out a new, unique lin lie fic w a fresh story (that was different from the others), I finally found it. the Adam warlock fic is becoming my longest one yet, it's a enemies to lovers slow burn and it's taking some time to cook up!! so I thought in the mean time I'd drop another lin fic for the covettes (if ur waiting for the Adam fic ur gonna have to wait longer!!) yes this is inspired by the nessa barrett pornstar edit of lin on tiktok BARELY PROOF READ

5.6K WORDS (ESTI)

Your university's Mythology club put together a fun camping trip. There were 16 of you in total in the club, split between 9 girls and 7 boys. You knew that one of the members, Lin Lie, had a crush on you. It was obvious from the longing gazes he threw your way when he thought you weren't looking, or how the cute brunette would come up to talk to you after club meetings, running hands through his soft black hair, staring at you with those sweet brown eyes.

He was so handsome, you'd admit. He was large and muscular, though he tried to hide it under various dark sweaters. His hands were about as big as your head. His presence was strong, secure, and safe. You always let out a relaxed sigh whenever he was around. Uni is borderline hectic. All these kids start off their lives as fresh "adults" lacking the maturity of middle schoolers. Or at least, that's how you'd describe the men.

Lin Lie was a breath of fresh air. He was responsible, protective, and incredibly aware of his surroundings and social standing. He was the guy you'd flock to find at a frat party, and even if you didn't talk to him at it, you always made sure you were in his line of sight. You had no time for childish men, or any sort of relationship at all. You had a Bachelors to earn.

But still, you let the handsome Chinese man in your class talk you up. He was flirty and confident at times, unearthing a side of him you didn't know out side of the quiet, responsible one. There was something wild flickering behind his eyes. And you let him entertain you with it. It got to the point where you started getting giddy whenever he was around, already knowing what he was preparing to say, and how he would lean in close to say it.

So when this trip came around, you and many women of the club almost said no to going. That was the case, until Lin Lie decided to come along. That's when all 16 members decided to pitch in, instead of the original 6 that were planning to go. Being the woods with a bunch of nerdy uni boys sounded ass. Being in the woods with uni boys and the strong, masculine Lin Lie? Hell, that scale balanced over quick.

Lin Lie was popular.

Not that he'd agree. He was one of the popular loners, mysterious and incredibly fine, living a quiet and busy lifestyle. You similarly fit the description, but that's only because you were in so many clubs.

You remember the drive there, your club leader, Peter Parker, Lin's closet friend, had rented a bus for everyone to take everyone to the camping grounds. Oddly, as you got on the bus, you were hoping for Lin to sit next to you, but he didn't. In fact, he didn't even look at you. Unlike him, he sat all the way in the far back, his navy colored hood resting high down on his forehead. He looked pale, and he almost immediately fell asleep at the back.

You hummed. You leaned forward to the seats next to you, tapping your clubmate on the head. The blonde turned around, his honey golden eyes flickering with annoyance. You spoke, "Hey... What's up with Lin today? Doesn't he seem... kind of sad?"

"I dunno. Peter said something about him being ill..." He murmured.

"Aw damn. If he was sick, he should've stayed at the dorms... Poor guy," you whispered.

Another clubmate chimed, shaking his head, "Hell no. Lin can't stay home cause then the girls wouldn't wanna go."

The blonde classmate chuckled, "Yeah! I swear if the girls bailed I'd strange, em."

As if he could.

You couldn't careless about their convo after that, softly glazing back at his groggy form, how his arm twitched in his sleep. Your eyes softened, sadness dwelling in your body as you stared at soft eyebags under his eyes. Still you couldn't crack a tender smile. "Responsible as ever, Lin... You always sacrifice yourself for others," your heart grows warm.

Maybe if he keeps it up, you might fall for him. You chuckle sadistically to yourself, turning back around and plugging in headphones. Preparing yourself for the rest of the trip.

The view of the countryside from the windows were gorgeous, as you followed from the busy city to endless rolling hills to dense greenery with the charmastic, singing crickets. When the bus stopped at the campsite. You found yourself engulfed in fallen autumn leaves, orange and green leaves singing in the lulling wind, as the middle of autumn was quickly approaching. The sun was low in the sky, as the club quickly set up camp for the night.

After dinner, poorly made steak and salad by the guys (food you noticed Lin did not eat), Peter gathered us all up by the fireplace. He grinned with an ecstatic expression, "Myth-busters!" The shoddy name Peter made for the club, "As you all know, for the past weeks, we have been going over Greek Mythology. Now, today we are here because this is the perfect season to view Ursa Major! Ursa Major heavily conmected to the Greek myth, associated with the story of Callisto, a nymph transformed into a bear by the great and powerful Zeus," He called on.

The club cheered and dummed excitedly, and you too couldn't help but be swayed by his words. The sun was beginning to set. Peter pointed to the mountain behind us, "That mountain leads to a cliff clearing where we can see the beautiful constellation in full. We're gonna hike there."

The club was a mixed group of cheers and boos, but Peter paid no mind. "Here's the deal. We're going to split into pairs. We're gonna need a pair system to make sure all of us are heading up! It's gonna get dark out here, so there's no way in hell I'd let any of you get injured," he huffed. "So everyone, let's pack up our gear and get into groups," he cheered.

You stood along with the buzzing crowd, already giggling as you exchanged looks with a few clubmates. You already knew you wanted Lin. You nonchalantly rushed on over to him, your hands behind your back as you cleared your throat. "Hey, Lin. Why don't we be buddies," you asked.

He flinched at the sound of your voice, never turning around to face you. He stood there silently for a second, his shoulders tense, his hand grabbing onto his wrist. He cleared his throat, his voice gravelly and cold, "No. Someone's gotta watch the setup... Peter chose me."

"A-Ah," even you couldn't bear the sudden ice he was throwing your way. You almost dreaded the words, as you knew he didn't want to talk anymore, "You okay... Lin?"

He winces, "Just a cold."

"Ah... Hah. Well... Get well soon?" Your confusion is imminent as you rejoin the group.

Everyone had already split into groups, save Peter, who was the hike guide. And with the odd number now that Lin's out, you were all alone. Peter noticed the mellow aura about you, as his eyes nervously flickered from Lin to you. He had this knowing look on his face. He gulped with a nervous laugh, patting your shoulder, "He gets moody when he's really sick! Ah, the g-guy... You know, always want to protect people... Even when he's in pain, he thinks not showing it is uhm... N-Not uh," Peter was oddly nervous.

Well. Peter was always a little socially awkward.

But this? You narrowed eyes on him.

He knew something and was trying to hide it. Peter awkwardly squeaked under your glare, dropping a hand from your shoulder and clapping instead. "Well! Y-You can um... Be the backline watch! Make sure nobody strays from the path, and keep an eye out on... The-uh," he turns away from you, gathering the club with a clap, "Alright, everyone, let's go!" He didn't even stay long, as your glare got too suspicious. Too tense.

Something was up. Still, you followed up the trail, beginning your way up the mountains, the campsite slowly beginning to disappear behind trees, the sun almost set behind the horizons.

Something really wasn't right.

Your gut burned.

Instincts screamed at you to stay with Lin. He's never sick, and when he is, he's never so... Brooding, so dog tired, so growlish and cold. No way. You at least need to glance to see if he's okay. You cave in, giving the campsite and Lin one last glance as it begins to disappear behind trees up the path.

That's when you saw an odd beam of green light. It was bright and quick, the odd color was a neon teal, the kind present on digital ads, not in the wild. It shot like a beadon high into air before it was swallows quickly up by foliage. A strong urge of wind flew up from the direction. What the fuck was that? You stop dead in your tracks.

You blink.

The forest was normal, the chittering of cicadas and the singing of crickets. Nothing was out of place.

You're not crazy are you?

You blink again.

No you definitely saw something!

You begin to sneak down the path, catching the smallest glimpse of the campsite, with Lin no where to be found. It was weird as you tried to duck around to see if the trees gave way to more glimpses of him on the campsite, but it didn't.

A hand clamps on your shoulder, you gasp, as you hear Peter speak, "(y/n)."

You whip around. The whole club's stopped and staring at you. You gulp in embarrassment.

Peter's eyes become serious, as if warning you with them, "(Y/n) let's stay on the path. Lin will be fine. We don't need to go back to the campsite." His grip on your shoulder is so foreboding. Foreboding also, was the aura that surrounded you in this moment.

You didn't understand it. But you shut up quickly.

This was. A little scary.

"Trust me, Lin's gonna be okay. I'm his best friend, you know," Peter tries to get all cheery as he holds your hand and brings you back up the mountain with the rest. "You know what, guys, let's make smores when we get up there!" He says to the group as he slips back up to the top, and the line starts moving.

You stare blankly down at the ground, your grip on your electric lamp tight.

"Hey, (y/n)... You okay?" You hear MJ ask, her brown eyes melting with concern.

You shake your head, "Must worried about Lin... I hope he'll be okay by himself."

She smiles at you, tucking her wild brown curls behind her ear, "Yeah... Lin's strong. Don't worry."

Don't worry was what you told yourself when you made it to the cliff clearing. Don't worry, was what you told yourself when you helped set up the fire. Don't worry is what you told yourself as you mingled with the group. Don't worry is what you told yourself when Peter put out the fire so we could all see the constellation.

It was beautiful but.

You looked back at the pitch black, foreboding forest behind you.

That mysterious light.

You blink.

You've gotta check it out.

You glanced back at the club. Everyone was relaxed, drinking hot cocoa and enjoying their stores. All pre-occupied with drinking in the moment. Best of all, Peter was snugging up with MJ at the front of it all, lost in the sauce. If there was one thing you learned about Peter, was than when he was with MJ, he saw nothing else.

Neither did he, or anyone else who cared, as a few frats saw you sneak off, catch you dip away back down the trail.

This was so damn stupid of you. But you always trusted your institution. Something was wrong with Lin.

You can't help but think of the worst as you rush down the path. It's about a ten minute walk back to the campsite, but you're booking it like a mad woman, your heart about to erupt in your chest. You can cut the time in half if you go fast enough.

So many horrible anxieties rush your mind as you follow down the path, jumping over stones and missing entire flights of the steps entirely. But you're moving at a rapid, steady pace, a treat from the sports clubs you've joined to make your uni-life more memorable. You can't help but think, with a racing heart and panting lips, about Lin collapsing somewhere - somehow, unable to call for help.

And that green light. What the fuck was that green light?

RROOOOOUGHH

An earspliting growl ruptured your eardrums. It's sound was chasmic and ferocious, animalistic-- yet deathly uncanny. It stopped your heart dead in your chest, slowed time, caught you off guard as your head turned to where the sound came from, your foot in the air as you were caught in the middle of a jump.

The roar was animalistic. But it didn't sound like an animal.

It sounded like...

Just as your eyes turned, in this slowed moment, you saw a flicker of flowing green, unnatural as it warped behind a shady, black figure. It was human, glowing, setting two black eyes on you from the dark.

You screamed, missing your landing, your ankle rolling in distress as it collided unnaturally with the ground. Unnatural, as you slipped down the paths stairs, unnatural as you rolled down the steps and cried. Unnatural, as a firehouse gusto of wind overcame you, unnatural, as you felt terrifying arms encapsule your body. Unnatural, as with a hearty crunch of leavs and sticks, you found yourself pinned to the ground before the giant bone fire your club lit back at the campsite.

Unnatural as you peeked your eyes open to find... Lin Lie?

Lin stared down at you with dark, unreadable eyes, his lips downturn, both of your hands captured above your head with a single palm. You were breatheless. There was this teal aura whipping and flickering in the air around him. You watched it leak out of his skin like sweat and take flight like whimsical plasma. How his face was still cast in a dark, heavy shadow despite the glow of the fireplace. How his hoodie was torn poorly off his body, ripped in devilish places as the fabric stringed about like a useless accessory.

His body was glistening with sweat, and you could finally see how broad and muscular he was. He was cosmic, built like a Greek god, chiseled finely in some holy defile of purity, as you clenched in your panties immediately. His scent was strong as it floated with his aura, the smell of these odd, almost pheromone like scents dripping off his body. It made you squint and shudder off a breath.

But you couldn't look away from those broad shoulders, that barn-like chest, how his arms carried all the force and the raw powerful to put you out of your pitiful misery.

Aderaline was losing in you body, as you could suddenly feel how fucking badly your ankle burned. "A-Ahh," you whimpered out, breathless and afraid.

All of Lin Lie's body helped him push out of a deathly, terrorizing grunt, it spilled out of the bowels of hell, trilling with an animalistic flare.

You whimpered even more, unaware of how your eyes began to water. You squirmed helplessly, flinching to not upset up, as you mustered up all of your courage to cry, "Luh... L-Lin... What's gotten into you," you wailed.

He growled over uou again, sinking his head closer. You squeaked and flinched away, shutting your eyes deathly tight. Your breath was sucked out of your body as you felt him suck in a strong gust of air. It blew cold against your neck, a direct contract to the deep huff that he released on your neck, it was hot enough to burn your skin. It sent tingles of fire down your body where it met you, as when you looked down at it, surges of green plasma flowed down the waves of your body.

"Unngh haa--" it drew out your voice, the surge of energy forcing a vulnerable whimper out into the air. He breathed deep and doggishly against you like this, each time making your knees rattle, your thighs lock themselves tight.

Your head tilts back at the bonfire, your body drowning in the passionate plasma. It made your neurons fire, your pussy to throb, combined eith the raw smell of him, your mind was becoming hazy. "L-Lin! Get off muh-- me," you gasped out, feeling ever the more light headed.

Lin opened his mouth, but a fire of passionate mandarin slew out his lips. "Zhū shén fā, wǒ wúfǎ tíng xiàlái... Zhū shén fāshì, wǒ kěwàng nǐ."

by the gods, I cannot stop. by the gods, I long for you.

He boomed it in your ears, his voice deep and chasmic, it withered and hissed, echoed twice within itself, present with a glorious entity. Something straight out of a cheesey c-drama, yet it flickered devilishly before your eyes. He boomed with authority in thus moment Whatever it is that he said, your sanity was taken with it. You gasped erotically, sickeningly.

He boomed.

As if he were a god.

You lost it, tears flying out of your eyes, drowning in an array of endless desire, letting those sweet plasmas to caress your skin, letting yourself give way to that holy voice, letting your body limp like the helpless ragdoll you were. You were set aflame everywhere, the fear of his strength made you impossibly wet. This was something you didn't even know about yourself.

Lin's powerful hands rolled you onto your side by your hips. You slumped over, sliding your knee up, hiking your ass up in the process. You tried to pick your body up, with your hands, but you felt him sink onto his forearm behind you, his other hand cupping your chin.

You sniffled and whimpered in his warm palm, as it slipped up to hold your face, his large thumb wiping your under eyes.

His body was so close to yours. His face and lips so dear to your skin. You could feel his heat, feel it as he tilted his head, voice deep in your ears. He hushes, "Nǐ chàndǒu ba, wǒ de tùzǐ……wǒ xià dào nǐle ma? Wǒ xiǎng hé nǐ zuò'ài……wǒ xiǎng zài nǐ de zǐgōng lǐ bō xià yī kē shén de zhǒngzǐ..."

You're trembling, my rabbit... Did I scare you? I want to make love to you... I want to plant a god's seed in your womb.

You shake, slobbering out, "I-I... I want to... Please... I want to see Lin... What-- What have you done to Lin-- please... Lin.. Let me see your face." Your run down of mythology helped you deduce some god had possessed Lin. But you couldn't exactly figure out which one. Chinese Mythology was what got you to join this club. Lin himself hosted it, and it was filled with wonder.

But your brain was foggy with needy trembles and whims of sex and fear. You could feel Lin's broad chest against your side. The god turns your head to face him, and from the shadows of his face, you see Lin's hooded eyes glimmer with untapped zeal.

"For I am Lin,"

"Yīnwèi wǒ shì Lín,"

"And Shao Lao, who has saved this body,"

"For I have reborn him, and given him life. Therefore, once a full moon, Shao Lao owns it."

"This vessel hungers for you. My Lin.. I, Lin Lie, hunger to drop seed in you. The seed of gods and men,"

His voice echoes, two voices pouring out at once. One was the roar of a dragon, hissing in mighty mandarin, the other was Lin's, booming with prowess and power. Every word, it doubled like so.

Your hips buckled, your eyes heavy.

"S-Shao Lao," your memory flickered from Lin's passionate teachings, "The Dragon god slain by K'un-L'un, walking the earth without a heart-- resurrected by Yu-Ti, t-trialed to die again and again at the hands of t-the Iron Fists? That they may gain p-power through your deaths?" You spit out, trembling under the dragon's stare. It cackles delightfully at your words, well pleased as it leans down to rub it's nose against your neck.

Despite it being Lin, insides it's body, you can feel it's cosmic shift, noting that in this second, it was fully Shao Lao. You moan out, and it takes a deep sniff in the crook of your neck. He can smell how horny you are. Your panties are wet with slick, drenched to uselessly stick to your pussy like a wet bathing suit. Shao Lao is pleased by the scent, releasing deep, strained breaths.

"Yes, little one."

"B-But... What does a such a god want with me? Come now, S-Shao Lao... Breed me tomorrow, or the next day, where I will be ready to take care of you," you manage out, sweaty in his embrace.

The Dragon cackles, slipping a hand up your tank top, hot fingers trailing up your stomach and pushing up your bra, cupping your breast. Your nipple is hard already. He simply pulls and teases it.

"Wise, hare. The full moon will not arrive tomorrow or the next night. Neither would it any night but tonight. You cannot trick me. This vessel cries for your womb. And I, I am delighted by your wisdom and beauty. You have sealed your fate, you have interested me more. Behold, your your trickery has planted you in deep water,"

He growls out. Hearing Lin and the mandarin dragon echo such words in unison had your eyes rolling back, mouth agape. The dragon played with your nipples, squeezing them between rough fingers, dragging a hot, fiery tongue up your neck. You shudder and mewl out, your eyes already dancing between the clouds.

The dragon hums, a pleased trill escaping Lin's plump, sweet lips.

"Amuse me, rabbit. Why do you resist when your body aches with need? What do you gain except frustration?"

You giggle, gulping, "I waste a god's time and gain his fury..."

You hear a fiery rattle burn through the dragon's throat.

"Then shall I meet you with a heavy hand."

The Dragon scoops you up into Lin's gorgeous biceps, the crackling shadows around his face just hazy enough for you to see the face eating grin the dragon bares. You shudder, as it carries you into his den, or more commonly known as Lin's tent. He pitched his closest to the bus and farthest from everyone else, the rest of the tents in his circle were MJ's and Peter's.

The Dragon carries you into the teal tent, where you see shredded rope and mountains of bottled water stacked on the side. His tent was in utter disarray, but the Dragon pays it no mind as he drops you down on the plush sleeping bag. He undresses, and your eyes behold the gorgeous stature of Lin's bare body. He's wonderfully built, stockier than a barn, a giant powerhouse of pure muscle with a small waist. His cock is glorious, eight inches with a fat tip, his thickness stocky and grand. Your mouth watered.

Shao Lao kicks some of discarded rope, laughing,

"This vessel believed it could restrain me, prevent me from hunting you... Indeed, it is true that I would have not taken you. But you came down the mountain for him, did you not? It was you who sold this fate..."

You gasp in disbelief, but it doesn't fester as the dragon pulls your shirt from over your head, watching your breasts as unlatches your bra. Your pretty titties fly out, and you watch as a pink tongue emerges from the hazy black fog.

"You do, wish to be devoured, little human?"

You look away, "Is Lin okay?"

"This vessel only wishes for your safety."

"Ah... Then... Breed me, Shao Lao."

Behind the smoke, you can see the dragon's eyes widen. But something about it was so uncharacteristic for the proud serpent. Was it? Lin? You blink in surprise. Just as you notice the change, it disappears.

Shao Lao undresses you briskly, picking you up when he needs to, and you help him by kicking off your panties and pants when he drags them down. The dragon bares a deep, pleased sigh at the sight of you, admiring the way your body ebbs and flows, the softness of your skin, adoring your shape. He parts your legs with rough hands, you brace yourself as Shao Lao, in Lin's heavenly body, dives into your neck.

The Dragon nips and suckles your neck, using Lin's whole tongue to do so. Adverse to the way a human would do it. It's such a small detail you notice that makes your mind hazy, a reminder that a true god is trying to fuck you. He cups the other side of your neck tightly, forcing you into his sharp love bites and vigorous slurps.

He does so hungrily, diving out with unsatisfied huff.

"This is not enough,"

He hisses with all of his belly.

He drags all of his tongue down your collarbone and to your breasts, slurping one of your nipples up. It suckles and twirls it's blazing hot tongue around it, letting go with a pop as it swells around the underside, sucking you in fill his mouth, all while his freehand squeezes and teases your other.

You shiver and whimper, feeling his teeth against your skin. His jaw restricts, threatening to bite you. You know that if he did, you'd be disfigured. "Mm-aah," your pussy throbs.

He grunts worser, releasing you. His grunt is filled with pure agitation, his shadowy eyes darkened in a crazied haze.

"This human body restricts me... This is not enough."

It puff and heaves with anger, and with a strong vigor, the dragon slides his tongue down the valleys of your breast, down your ribcage, down your belly, over your womb, through your hair. And as he grabs your thighs, pulling them up in ease with thick hands, the dragon eats up your cunny in one full lick.

You whine as he uses all of Lin's tongue to part open your labia. The hot, fat muscle is fully flat against your hymen before it slides up and trills against your clit. You buck up into it with a cry, "S-Shao Lao!"

The Dragon hisses gleefully like a snake. It vibrates its tongue with ease against you, trilling up with a vigor as if it were merely rolling an 'r'. You jerk with all of you, as you reach and grab chunks of Lin's short raven locks. For a moment, sweet eyes gaze lovingly at you, but you fail to see it before it's overriden.

The Dragon licks up your clit with all of its tongue, the flatliness bigger than your clit as it strokes you once then twice, before he pulls a little away to speak.

"Tender, sweet, and juicy..."

Shao Lao burries his nose into your pussy, taking a deep sniff. The green energy sends tingles against your body. The dragon leans up, rolling out his tongue with a soft gag, there, from the midst of the smoke, you can see something round and orange glow, slipping out from the back of his throat. It slides down his tongue, revealing itself to be a little glowing orb, as it's guided right into your hole. The dragon leans forward, digging into your cunt as it forces it deep into your walls.

It sets you aflame, you grow impossibly more wet, drowning our from the magic of whatever it was that was placed within you. Your cervix sucks it up into your womb. And in awe, you can see it glow beneath your skin.

The Dragon laughs,

"I can perform much greater trembles than this in my original, blessed body. You truly are one graced human. You do not know the merit you are being bestowed, if you did, you would be worshiping me now... Paying hom--"

You pull Lin's hair, shoving your cunny back in the dragon's face, watching it disappear beneath the shadows. It narrows dangerous eyes on you. You only return with a grin.

The Dragon reaches, grabbing your wrist with a crushing pressure. You wince, pitifully letting go. As Shao Lao sits up, broad chest flexed forward with prestige. His darkened eyes glimmer with ferocity. Eyes that read, "you should not have done that".

Shao Lao drops your wrists, using Lin's mighty and quick hands to grab both of your ankles. He stands up with them, and with a scated cry, your body jerks forward, your legs held up in the air. He pulls higher, higher until your neck is the only thing keeping you on the ground. "Aah! Shao Lao! I'm so--" you can't even get a chance to speak, as Shao wraps his bulging biceps around your hips, dropping you in the candlestick pose, except your knees rest your legs on his shoulders, your hands shaking, helplessly grabbing chunks of raven locks.

With a deep, burling growl, Shao Lao buries himself into your cunny, trilling against your clit at an unforgiving pace, rippling his tongue against you in a fluttering frenzy, your throbbing clit swelling under the abuse. You cry out, saliva spat out in the intensity, as the way he's forced you down, you can't do much but claw at the dragon's biceps, or tug at his hair.

"S-suh-- Ahh! Shao L-lao! Ooh," you cry, your legs shooting up with an electric spark before slopping back down. Your toes arch, your breathing is constricted, overstimulated tears prick your eyes.

He'll only stop his devious defilement to suck and slurp up your clit in intervals between flickering his speedy tongue against it. The abuse complimented by Lin's fat juicy lips as the insides of them run over your clit inbetween slurps. He'll pull back to run a flat tongue side to side vigorously on your clit, only to slurp it up, suck on it, and smooth right back into flickering.

You yank intensely on Lin's hair, weak tears streaming down your face as your thrust into an intense orgasm. You legs jerk and fly up into the air, kicking at nothing before shooting straight up and flexing, flexing as you curse out into the sky. They never meet back down, as after your orgasm, Shao Lao is still on you just as intensely, not allowing you a break for your high. Your moans turn into frantic, pant-filled wails, slobbering sobs dribbling down your forehead and into your hair.

You rut into his tongue over and over again, trying to squirm but your hips are locked in place by meaty biceps. You're forced to look at the shadowed over pink-tipped nose Lin was always equipped with, buried into your vulva. You're bullied into another orgasm, cumming with all of your body again, he doesn't rest while you ride out your high.

You plead, while you cum hard, barreling out like a frantic shout, "G-Grace-cious-- Shao Lao pleas-suhh! Please forgive m-me! P-Please-- M-Mighty-- gaw--"

You can't continue as you groan out, finally feeling that fat tongue stop, laying flat against you. You sigh out, feeling your neck ache, and your senses return, your legs sag forward to your head.

"Mmuh! Sh-Shao Lao... I beg... aah... Please... forgive me-- I'm so... so aah... sorry... I'm sorry, S-Shao," you slur out, already fucked out of your mind.

By the grace of god, he releases your hips, slowly guiding you back onto the floor. You can feel your spine cry out with glee, your eyes rolling back with relief. Shao kneels between your legs still, biceps meaty and glowing, his arms folded forbidden, glaring down at you with serious eyes. Ever the reminiscent of Lin's face scolding and disappointed stare, shaming you of your very existence.

The god is still not settled.

You meekly reach and touch his elbow with the tip of your fingers.

"My god... My Shao Lao, please don't let this offend you... Remember your selfishless desire to bless me with the seed of a god's... Show me your true self, your kindness... Please take me another way to subside your rage... S-Show me... Show me who you are," you whisper-mewl, a whorish expression of need overtaking your face.

Shao grins.

He slams his large palms on either side of your head, your flinch, the ground shakes beneath you. Your body is sent aflame in shivers, excitement dribbling throughout your body. Your hands greedily trace down Lin's gorgeous body, feeling his gorgeous chest, it's bouncy and built. You moan out under Shao's stare. He's not moving again.

You whimper, "God hurry up Shao."

He laughs, finally taking in your sweet lips, slurping up your tongue, burning with passionate friction. He leans upright as you melt into the kiss, slapping down your titties, your nipples arching into them. He sits you up with ease, grabbing your ass, kissing your neck as he commands, "Turn around, bunny."

Your eyebrows quirked, too fucked out of your mind as you obeyed, slipping back to turn around, your ass popped back for him to enjoy. You sprawl out almost immediately, doing the cat yoga stretch, arms out infront of you, palms against the floor, ass up and perked.

You can hear Lin hum deliciously, his voice ebbing with lust.

Something's off.

You ask, "My dragon, does this pose please you?"

"It does, my bunny," speaks, rubbing your ass with both hands.

You grin, "Does it please your vessel as well?"

He pauses, then speaks again, "It pleases Lin greatly."

Lin Lie.

That was you wasn't it?

Did Shao switch so he could have this?

You stay quiet with your knowledge, a purr of excitement building up. The knowlege intensifies the feeling of Lin's fat tip kissing your entrance. You moan in anticipation, rocking against it, as he grabs full control of your hips. He waists no time to plunge in, his hard, fat cock slips right in from how wet you are. It doesn't even hurt either, as you bottom out eight inches of burly, stocky thickness in milliseconds.

You wail, toes and fingers curling up. He pulls back even a little a slips right out of you, releasing a charmastic laugh. Lin... It really was you wasn't it. He slips in, your walls expanding in fullness, the feeling enlarging and all compassing. Your hymen muscles burn and enjoy the stretch, both loving and hating it, blending into a delicious mixture as he slowly thrusts in and out.

The plunge is deep into your walls, stimulating the farthetes depths of you with a fat thickness. It's a sultry sensation, as your jaw slacks, as a marvelous gasp whines out of you.

"Mmh, you like that? Shao Lao's fiery cock," he hisses out.

You giggle, "Yes, m-mighty Shao Lao."

He starts to fuck into you now, speeding up with a haste precision. You moan, but it's interrupted as Lin slaps a heavy hand against your ass. The stung is sharp, burns with a hiss before it's washed away with the tides of pleasure. "I'll show you, Shao Lao's fury," he moans out.

With one hand he grips your hip in a vice, the other comes crashing down on your red cheek as he fucks hard and deep into you. His hard, hot rod slices you open, as you stretch and flex about him. He can feel your pulse when he digs in deep, how your pussy squeezes vice around him. "Aah-- Fuck, r-rabbit," he's trying so hard to keep up the facade. But you already know if Shao Lao was here, he'd slam into you relentlessly, not caring if your knees gave out; without moaning once, as he fucked you into the ground.

That's not to say Lin isn't doing you justice right now. You can barely handle this speed, as you whine and cry, as he penetrates your poor pussy, fucking into it with barely any care, slipping around and enjoying the clap of your pretty ass. He cracks a punishing blow against your already red and bruised cheek, enjoying the way you welp.

"Aah-- Mm- Come take this God's cock," he grabs you with both hips and slams you back into him. You jerk onto your palms with a breathy mewl, as he begins to pump you on his dick like a fleshlight.

"Fuck-fuck-- Lin!" You cry out, your orgasm surprising you. What sent you prematurely was how his tip slammed your cervix, the sensation painfully delicious, it sent you into a frenzy.

He didn't give in, as he dropped his head back, using his pumping biceps to pull you all the way off, just to carelessly slam you back down. "Gimme' your damn hands," Lin hisses, ans obediently you give him one at a time. He grabs your wrists, pulling you back, forcing all your weight to be dependent on him.

You jerked about like a ragdoll, overstimulation riddled in your body. Despite this being Lin, you could still feel his energetic plasma flicker around. He was supercharged and boundless.

Lin started to precisely bump his tip down against your g-spot on his way to your cervix, fucking up into you to meet in the middle, loving the way your walls spasmed from the aftermath of your orgasm. Your moans were useless screams by now, the sensation of your speedy abuse complimented the pusles from your swollen, defeated clit.

You whine, "'M cummin' M-- Cumming!!"

"S-shi-- (Y/nn)," he whines.

With one satisfying slam, Lin shoots hot rods of cum into your womb right as you splatter, coating the orange orb in your body with your cum, as it sucks up Lin's. You feel the orb vibrate in your womb and it glides down to your cervix, feeling it push back against Lin's cock.

You gasp, "L-Lin! Pull out!"

He obediently listens, laying you down and slipping right off. With a heavy grunt, your push the growing orb out your body, as it expands in your vagina, before slipping out the size of a large duck egg. You frantically look back, eyes wide in shock.

Right between your legs is a duck egg sized, orange orb.

Your eyes flicker up at Lin, his eyes are darkened and hazed over.

"S-Shao Lao," you cry out in fear.

He crashes as strong hand against your ass. You yelp, but he smooths it over with the carress of his palm.

"Why are you surprised, my hare? Have I not fulfilled my blessing?"

"I'm-- I'm on birth control! That's the only reason I said yes, I can't raise a baby," you huff.

"Not a human child. You will hatch another god. She will know her purpose the moment she hatches, and will take flight to it... We dragon's do not dwell on sentimentality the way humans do... Our affection for our birth is shown in our magic and prowess... Not hanging around as useless, crying, flesh... Your daughter will bless you, much like Lin as the Iron Fist."

Your eyes widening in shock, unable to process which sentence was crazier than the last.

"What the fuck are you talking about!"

"You are immortal now, (Y/n) (L/n). Your have bore the seed of the next generationg of gods."

"What!"

You heard the voices warp, as Lin speaks, "(Y/n) I didn't know this would happen."

"What... The fuck... " you whisper, blinking, "so do I sit on it until then- o-or?" A humiliated flush covers your cheeks as your turn back slowly, carefully sitting down on your sore, stretched out ass.

"I will guide her in the realm of the gods. She cannot stay here on Earth. But she will return to grant you one blessing, before she starts her eternal journey at home... Where she belongs. We dragon's are not meant to be bound to humans... But I am. For the--"

You gasp, "Wait!"

"Yes, my hare?"

You point at Lin's body, "He's The Immortal Iron Fist?"

"Yes. He is my vessel."

Your slaw lacks.

"Your friends will be arriving soon. I must take my leave, my hare. I will breed you again, for I must spread my seed--"

"What!"

"Until then, I implore you to enjoy my vessel..."

The smoke and plasma mix together spining above Lin's head, and out of it comes a glorious dragon. Heat surges the room, as the flying serpent is made of pure fire, it swallows the egg up in an instant, turning back from wince it came and descending into the cloud of smoke into Lin's body.

You watch Lin surge and gasp, no longer drowned in a shadow haze. His skin flushed and bright, his lips bright red and bruised, the taste of pussy still lingering on his taste buds. You watch his shaggy, sweaty hair lean down over his raven locks, his sweet eyes wide with shock.

No one says a word.

You slowly drop your head down onto the sleeping bag.

"What the fuck just happened?"

There's a this guilty look on his face as he sits next to your feet. "I'm sorry about that I-- Trust me, (Y/n), I did everything in my power to stop that. Shit, once Shao Lao learned I like you... In that way... He sort of... Listen I'll tell him off, me or him, we won't ever see you again. This will not happen again I will assure you."

You pause, quietly staring at the top of the tent. "Nah," is all you whisper.

He perks up, "What?"

"Don't go away... I sort of... I like you Lin... I tried to deny it, but I do. I was so worried about you, you know... I'm sorry for... My part in this... If I said no then we wouldn't be here," you sigh.

He gasps, "Oh god, no, I should be apologizing.. No matter what I'm the one who should've--"

"I'm not mad, Lin," you flush.

"I yet you're saying that now but--"

You wince, "For fucks sake, Lin! I'm saying--" you stop, watching as he leans forward, eyes plagued with worry. You pause and correct your tone, "I'm saying I liked it... I liked it. I mean its kind of an honor to be fucked by Shao Lao... I wanted it, and I don't really care about the damn dragon god baby- if its anything like its father it'll fuck off and be conceited-- I just... I want my bachelors, and... I don't mind... Seeing you, m-more after this."

Lin stares at you with bewilderment.

You squeak ans hide underneath your palms, "God this is too surreal."

He gulps, "W-Welcome to the superhero squad?" He tries to be funny.

"Fuck you," you're mad, but, a grin splits your face open, man your pussy feels good. You were stunning in the after glow. You'd do it again, with Shao Lao. And as you glance up at Lin, who flashes an amazed smile at you. You'd do it again with Lin too

He lays down next to you, folding his arms on his chest. "You're pretty kinky, (Y/n). You always seemed so regal," he whispers it. His face bright red.

"I can't believe you're Iron Fist," you mumble. You look over at him, he joins you. "You think my dragon'll grant me with riches," you blink.

"Mm," he looks up in thought, "Maybe. They usually gift items. Like my family's heritage is a sword. Maybe... Maybe you'll get a lucky necklace that makes extra money grativate in your life." He blinks at you.

"Mm... Maybe that's shallow thing to ask," you sigh

"Nothin' wrong with money. I like money," Lin speaks. "Besides, you can ask for something else after the second dragon you make," he giggles, leaning up and wrapping arms around you.

"Yeah I could-- Hey! S-Second," you whisper, laying hands on his broad shoulders.

He chuckles heartily, caressing your face with his thumb. "You okay? How's your body?"

"It's fine actually, it doesn't hurt surprisingly? Maybe the egg's got something to do with it," you whisper.

He sighs, "Good. I'm glad you're safe." You relax with Lin, as he drops his forehead down against yours, releasing a relieved sigh. You revel in the soft tranquility, its a great contrast to the endless brutality of Shao Lao.

God what the is your life going to be like now with these two. Or well one, who knows if Shao'll be back next full moon. He's got a baby to take care of. Lin helps you onto your side and spoons you, wrapping a warm hand around you, cupping a titty while he's there. He buries himself into your shoulder, running his nose along your edges. You flush.

You squeak out, "Why's this more embarrassing than the..." Although you can't finish your sentence, he chuckles, but he doesn't flee from giving you affection.

"Actually--"

"(Y/n)! (Y/n)," You hear Peter shriek from distance.

The two of you shout, "Oh fuck!"

You scramble to get dressed, but you're too weak to stand. He ushers you into the sleeping bag once his pants are back on, and he tries to wipe away the cum stains with his shredded hoodie. When the flurry of voices searching for you get closer.

Lin frantically unzips the tent,sticking his arm out as he waves bashfully to everyone. He's mer with a flashlight the the face. "She's fine! She's here! She-- uh... Ran back to," he doesn't have to finish it. Everyone can get the vibe from here.

Afterall Lin's disheveled, sweaty, and shirtless. It's MJ who laughs first, mostly in a mixture of pure horror and relief. Then the rest of the club follows short, but Peter's quick to dismiss everyone.

"Alright! Shows over go off to bed guys," he cries. MJ slicks off into Peter's tent, and Peter's takes the time to frantically rush over to Lin. His eyes are bulged out, terror in his voice, "Dude? Does she know? Is she okay? Did Shao do anything?"

Lin shushes him, glancing back you with a reassuring smile before whispering, "She knows I'm IronFist, and it's a crazy story that I'll tell you later - But Pete' she's immortal now too."

He shrieks, "What!"

[ditzydoe444]

I'm being haunted by the image of tying Jason to the bed and riding him slowly to tease him. Keeping him tethered on the edge and when he finally has enough of your games, he snaps. Your back hits the bed as he slams into you. You think you can just tease him like that the whole night and expect nothing to happen to you? No, no, no. Now you're gonna have to deal with the consequences of edging him.

-🌙

MDNI 18+

jason todd smut

“don’t fucking tease me sweetheart,” jason groaned lowly as he watched you toy with him, sliding your slick cunt across his dick and barely putting the tip in before teasing him again and again. “i’m not teasing you jacey,” you batted your eyelashes at him, your voice sounding innocent despite the small grin on your lips seeing him hiss at the friction.

jason was big, strong enough to lift you up on his shoulders with one arm with no struggle, so when you said the flimsy pink ribbon you tied him up with because you thought it’ll look pretty with him, the moment the fabric strained you panicked. you knew it was a stupid idea tying a man as big as him up with a ribbon, but it was all you had, since you didn’t have the same strength as him when the roles were reversed the ribbon worked just fine.

in a matter of seconds the ribbon snapped, jason gripped your hips and slammed you down on the mattress, pinning you down with his weight. “don’t say i didn’t warn you,” he whispered lowly as he nibbled your ear. “you’ll be getting a lesson.”

with no warning he slammed into you, the sheer size of his length making the stretch burn slightly as he abused your gummy walls. “m-mmph jay,” you whined as you tried to wiggle your way out of it, only to have your hands pinned. “i warned ya, you don’t get to tease me and get away with it.”

he abused your cunt, his balls slapping against your ass as he buried himself in you, your walls clenched around him, “always so damn welcoming sweetheart, it’s like your pussy knows where home is.”

jason watched as your slick coated his cock, the way you whined and writhed under him as you turned into a babbling mess. “hm what’s that sweetheart?” he cooed teasingly before slamming back into you.

“s-so much jay,” you moaned as your eyes shut tightly when he slammed back into you. jason knew you were a sensitive little thing, the way you moaned over the slightest touch of his thumb grazing over your sensitive clit was enough to make you come alone. he watched as your arousal dripped down to his pubes, “fuck, always making a mess sweetheart?” he teased watching your mouth open in a pathetic little ‘o’ as he slammed back into you.

“sorry jacey,” you whined as your legs buckled, bouncing with his thrusts. jason chuckled, “yeah sweetheart keep telling yourself that.” you could tell jason was teasing you, the way his strokes slowed down when your moans increased and he would drag out letting you come for the longest time.

“jacey need to come,”

he shook his head, “you teased me sweetheart, and you’re not getting away with it.”

[yooniivrse]

sunlit shores | myg

summary. in which you convince yoongi to take a (very much needed) break to spend time with you by the beach for a few days

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff, slightly suggestive :>

word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: oc and yoongi go on a little vacation / yoongi's a tease / weird man hits on oc / they celebrate yoongi’s birthday / allusions to sex / they're just cute and i love them sm

notes: this was supposed to be completely different, but i miss summer and saw an edit on tt so i just has to write this. it’s actually the longest drabble i’ve written :33 asks, comments, liked, reblogs and feedback is always sooo appreciated <3 enjoy reading!!

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The hum of the engine vibrates through the car, the tires rolling steadily against the pavement. The road ahead stretches out like an endless ribbon, disappearing into the horizon where the sky meets the land. It’s late afternoon, the sun casting a golden glow across the landscape, and you can feel the warmth of the light pouring in through the windows.

You glance over at Yoongi, his fingers casually tapping the steering wheel in time with the music playing softly through the car speakers. His face is relaxed, eyes fixed on the road, but there’s an easy sort of smile on his lips. You’ve been on the road for a few hours now, and the miles seem to slip by effortlessly in the quiet comfort of his presence.

But this wasn’t just a vacation for you—it was something you begged him to take. The past few months had been draining for him, the studio consumed by deadlines, the constant pressure of work eating away at him, and you could see it in the way his shoulders had slumped, the exhaustion in his eyes. So, one night, you’d cornered him after he came home late from another long studio session.

"You need this," you’d told him, your voice firm but gentle. "I know you love working, but you can’t keep burning yourself out. We’re going on a vacation. No work, no emails, no studio. Just us."

Yoongi had been reluctant at first, his natural resistance to anything that pulled him away from his music. He’d argued that he couldn’t afford the time off, that there was always something more to do. But you weren’t having any of it. After weeks of subtly nudging, persuading, and finally all but dragging him away from his work, he had finally relented. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but you could tell he needed it—needed to breathe, to recharge, to remember there was more to life than deadlines and endless tracks.

Now, as you sat beside him in the car, you couldn’t help but smile. The slow, contented sigh he had let out earlier when you mentioned stopping at a beachside seafood restaurant was proof enough that, despite his initial resistance, he was starting to enjoy himself.

"Are you sure we’re heading the right way?" you ask, half-joking, as you stretch in your seat, trying to get comfortable.

Yoongi glances at you, the corner of his lips lifting just slightly. His eyes flicker to the GPS on the dashboard before he glances back at the road. "It’s a road trip," he says, his tone low and a little teasing. "The whole point is to get lost."

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest spreads as you watch him. Yoongi doesn’t exactly love spontaneity, but when it’s the two of you, everything feels easier, more relaxed. His usual sharp edges soften when it’s just the two of you alone on the road, no one else around, no expectations to meet. Just you and him, and the open road.

"I thought we were supposed to be at the beach by sunset," you say, resting your head against the seat, staring out the window at the rolling hills and scattered trees. "The sun’s already dipping."

"We’ll make it," he replies, a smirk playing on his lips. "Besides, the best part of the trip is the drive anyway. We’ll get there when we get there."

You sigh, smiling softly. He’s right, of course. It’s not about rushing to the destination, but enjoying the journey. You love these moments with him, the ones where time seems to stop, and it’s just the two of you, sharing small, simple things. The sound of his voice, the low hum of the car, the quiet sway of the world around you.

You pull your camera from the bag at your feet, the one that’s become almost like a second appendage over the years. You’ve been snapping photos of the road, of the scenery, and of small details as you go. The reflection of the trees in the side mirror. The wind brushing past the rear view. You snap a shot of Yoongi, his profile sharp against the fading sunlight, the warmth of the moment captured forever in the frame.

He notices the click of the camera and turns slightly, his eyes catching yours with a glint of amusement. “Are you planning to take pictures of every mile we drive?”

You laugh, the sound light and carefree. “You make good road trip scenery,” you tease, and his lips curl into that familiar, lazy grin that makes your heart skip.

"Is that so?" he muses, a playful edge creeping into his voice. “Well, don’t forget to capture my good side.”

“I don’t think it matters,” you reply, flipping the camera around to show him the photo you just took. "You look good from every angle."

He glances at the screen, then back at the road. His smile is barely visible but undeniably there. "Shut up," he mutters, but the slight blush on his cheeks tells you everything you need to know.

You grin and settle back in your seat, the sun casting long shadows in the car now. The road continues to wind on, the scenery shifting as you pass small towns and open fields, but all you can focus on is the steady rhythm of the drive and the quiet, contented peace that fills the space between you.

The radio station switches to a new song, a soft ballad filling the air, and you can feel Yoongi’s hand slowly inch toward the dashboard to adjust the volume.

"Are we there yet?" you ask again, though it’s more for the comfort of hearing his voice.

"Almost," Yoongi says with a gentle chuckle. "We’ll stop for dinner first. Anything in particular you’re craving?"

"Something with seafood," you reply, turning slightly in your seat to face him. “Maybe something with a view. Somewhere we can see the ocean.”

You settle back into your seat, the breeze coming in through the open window carrying the faint scent of saltwater. You can't help the content smile that spreads across your face.

“Seafood by the beach sounds perfect,” he says.

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By the time you finally make it to the resort, the sun has almost disappeared below the horizon. You barely caught the last streaks of orange melting into the waves as you checked in, and now, after the long drive and an even longer meal, exhaustion is settling deep in your bones.

The dinner had been worth it, though. Fresh seafood, rich flavours, a cold drink in your hand, and the ocean just outside the restaurant’s windows. Even Yoongi, who had initially grumbled about how full he was getting, had scraped his bowl clean before leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.

Now, the two of you stumble into the hotel room, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over the space. The sliding doors to the balcony are cracked open, letting in the cool night air and the distant rush of waves. The room itself is simple but nice—soft white sheets, a king-sized bed, and just enough space to stretch out after hours spent in the car.

The second your shoes are off, you collapse onto the bed with a groan. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this full and this tired at the same time.”

Yoongi chuckles somewhere behind you, the sound low and tired. “Told you we should’ve stopped eating before the extra side dishes.”

“You’re the one who ordered them,” you remind him, eyes still shut.

There’s the faint rustle of fabric, and when you peek one eye open, you catch him pulling his sweater over his head, tossing it onto a chair before sitting on the edge of the bed. He stretches his arms over his head, his t-shirt rising to reveal a sliver of skin before he sighs and flops onto his back beside you.

“We should shower,” he mutters.

“Mm.” You don’t move. Neither does he.

A few beats of silence pass, the distant sound of the ocean filling the space between you. The exhaustion is pressing in, making your limbs heavy, but there’s something about the quiet that makes you hyper-aware of everything—the slow rise and fall of Yoongi’s breathing, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the salt from the ocean air, the way his arm is just close enough that if either of you shifted, you’d be touching.

You turn your head slightly, looking over at him. His eyes are closed, his features relaxed in a way they rarely are. Without the tension of work, the exhaustion of deadlines, he looks softer, more at ease. It suits him.

“You awake?” you murmur.

“Barely,” he mutters. Then, after a pause, “Are you about to say something that’ll make me regret staying up?”

You smirk. “Just wondering if you’re planning to sleep in jeans.”

Yoongi huffs out a laugh but doesn’t move. “Too tired.”

You roll onto your side, propping your head up on your arm. “You’re really just gonna lie there?”

He finally cracks one eye open, glancing at you with something unreadable in his expression. Then, in one slow movement, he shifts, lifting an arm to rest behind his head, his gaze still on you. “Why? You got other plans?”

It’s casual—his voice, his posture—but there’s something in the way he says it, something teasing yet unreadable, that makes warmth creep up your spine.

You scoff, nudging his leg with your foot. “You wish.”

His lips curve slightly, and he exhales, letting his eyes slip shut again. “Just don’t steal the whole bed.”

You grin, settling back onto your pillow. “No promises.”

A comfortable silence stretches between you, the hum of the waves filling the space. The exhaustion is winning, but your mind is still half-awake, lingering on the fact that this is the first real break Yoongi’s had in months. It feels like a luxury—to be here, away from the weight of responsibilities, with nothing ahead of you but ocean air and slow mornings.

“You wanna wake up early tomorrow?” you ask after a moment.

Yoongi groans. “Why would I ever want to do that?”

You roll your eyes. “Because we’re at the beach. You don’t wanna see the sunrise?”

He cracks an eye open again, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “We barely made it to sunset. What makes you think I’m dragging myself out of bed before dawn?”

You snort, turning onto your back. “Fine. What about a late breakfast, then? Maybe a walk by the water?”

Yoongi hums, considering. “That, I can do. As long as there’s coffee involved.”

“There will be.” You stretch, letting out a deep sigh. “And maybe we can rent some bikes? Ride along the coast?”

Yoongi groans again, but there’s no real protest behind it. “We’ll see.”

You glance over at him, catching the way he’s already half-asleep, his breaths deeper now, his body sinking into the mattress. You don’t push it—he’s here, he’s resting, and that’s enough.

“You better not complain tomorrow,” you murmur, closing your eyes.

There’s no response, just the sound of the waves rolling in. But just as you’re drifting off, you feel the faintest movement beside you—Yoongi shifting slightly closer, the warmth of him barely brushing against your side.

────

The sand is warm beneath you, fine grains sticking to your skin as the waves roll lazily onto the shore. The morning sun hangs high in the sky, the gentle breeze off the ocean keeping the heat from becoming unbearable. The rhythmic crash of the waves, distant laughter from fellow beachgoers, and the occasional squawk of seagulls fill the air, but none of it is loud enough to drown out the presence beside you.

Yoongi stretches out on the sand next to you, one arm bent behind his head, sunglasses perched on his nose. He wears a loose t-shirt, his toned arms catching the sunlight, and his dark swim trunks contrast against the golden sand. He looks utterly at peace, limbs loose, expression unreadable behind his glasses—but you know he’s comfortable. You can tell from the way he sighs deeply, like the weight of his usual world has finally started to lift.

You glance at him over the top of your book, watching as he absentmindedly sifts his fingers through the sand, letting it slip between them. He must sense your gaze because he tilts his head slightly in your direction.

“Are you staring at me?” he asks, voice lazy, teasing.

You scoff, lifting the book slightly higher to cover your face. “As if. I was just making sure you weren’t sleeping. You said we’d go in the water soon.”

Yoongi hums in response, the sound deep in his throat. “Mm. You’re the one reading. You’ve barely moved in the last thirty minutes.”

You grin behind the pages. “Maybe because I’m enjoying my book. You should try it sometime.”

“I do read,” he argues, rolling onto his side to face you. His elbow digs into the sand as he props himself up, peering at your book cover. “What’s so interesting that you’d ignore your very handsome, very entertaining vacation partner?”

You roll your eyes. “Handsome? Sure. Entertaining? Debatable.”

Yoongi huffs a short laugh and flicks a bit of sand at your leg, making you gasp dramatically. “Rude,” you mutter, brushing it off.

There’s a beat of silence between you, and when you glance at him, Yoongi is staring at the waves, his expression unreadable. But before you can say anything, he moves, sitting up and reaching for the sunscreen bottle sitting next to your bag.

“You’re going to burn if you stay like that any longer,” he comments, twisting the cap open. “Come here.”

You blink up at him. “I’m fine.”

“Turn around.”

With a dramatic sigh, dog-ear your page and roll onto your stomach, resting your chin on your folded arms. The next thing you feel is the cool touch of sunscreen against your back, quickly followed by the warmth of Yoongi’s hands as he rubs it into your skin.

His fingers work slowly, spreading the lotion across your shoulders, the touch firm but gentle. You try not to shiver at the feeling, the way his thumbs press into the knots in your muscles, moving in slow circles. It’s distracting—so much so that you almost forget to breathe properly.

“You should do this for a living,” you mumble, voice muffled against your arm.

Yoongi chuckles. “Oh yeah? Quit music and become a full-time sunscreen applier?”

You grin. “I mean, I wouldn’t complain.”

His hands pause briefly before continuing their slow, methodical movement down your spine. His voice drops slightly, playful yet laced with something deeper. “Well… I do have a habit of getting my hands all over you, don’t I?”

Your breath catches for just a second, but Yoongi’s fingers don’t hesitate as they move lower, working the sunscreen into your lower back with lazy, practiced strokes.

You huff a soft laugh, though your cheeks feel warm. “Are you flirting with me, Min Yoongi?”

He hums again, slow and knowing. “I don’t know. Am I?”

Your lips part slightly, but before you can answer, Yoongi leans down just a little, voice just above your ear. “You’re lucky we’re in public.”

The warmth spreading through you has nothing to do with the sun anymore.

But just as quickly as the moment settles between you, Yoongi pulls away, tapping your side lightly. “Alright, you’re all set.”

You roll back over, sitting up and stretching your arms, but you don’t miss the small smirk playing on his lips. The knowing glint behind his sunglasses tells you he’s very aware of the effect he has on you.

“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, tossing a bit of sand at him.

Yoongi just grins. “And yet, you love it.”

You don’t deny it. You both know the truth anyway.

The two of you settle into an easy silence, the sounds of the waves filling the air between you. After a few minutes, Yoongi suddenly shifts, reaching into the small cooler you brought with you. He pulls out a bottle of cold water, unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip. Beads of condensation drip onto his chest, the droplets catching the sunlight as they trail down his skin.

You try not to stare. You fail.

Yoongi catches you looking and smirks before holding the bottle out to you. “Thirsty?”

You snatch the water from him, mostly to distract yourself. “Shut up,” you grumble, taking a sip.

Yoongi chuckles, leaning back on his elbows. “What time is it?”

You check your phone. “Almost two.”

He hums. “Lunch soon, then?”

“Sure. You pick.”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “You’re really letting me choose?”

“Well,” you say slowly, grinning. “I did already tell you what I want.”

He smirks, tilting his head. “Seafood again, huh?”

You nod eagerly. “Something fresh. Something grilled. Maybe shrimp—ooh, or lobster.”

Yoongi shakes his head in amusement. “Alright, seafood it is. But if we’re doing that, then you’re driving back later. I’m getting a drink.”

“Fine by me,” you say, standing up and brushing off the sand. You reach a hand out to him. “Come on. Let’s go wash off in the water before we leave.”

Yoongi sighs, but it’s not one of protest—it’s that fond, indulgent kind of sigh, the one you’ve learned means he’s willing to follow you anywhere. He takes your hand, letting you pull him up, and with fingers laced together, you both head toward the waves.

────

Lunch turns out to be everything you wanted—grilled shrimp, buttery lobster, and fresh oysters, all paired with chilled drinks that taste like citrus and summer. The restaurant is open-air, shaded under a thatched roof with the ocean just a few steps away. A lazy breeze drifts through, ruffling the linen curtains and carrying the scent of salt and grilled seafood.

Yoongi sits across from you, stirring the ice in his drink with a straw, watching as you peel another shrimp with practiced ease. “You were serious about this seafood thing,” he muses, resting his chin on his palm.

You grin, dipping the shrimp into a small dish of sauce. “I don’t play around when it comes to food.”

“I’ve noticed.” He takes a slow sip of his drink, eyes scanning the restaurant. It’s a mix of tourists and locals, couples laughing over shared plates, friends clinking glasses. Somewhere near the bar, a group is taking turns posing for photos in front of the ocean backdrop.

Yoongi checks his phone before glancing toward the entrance. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick. Don’t get kidnapped while I’m gone.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll try my best.”

He smirks before sliding out of his chair, disappearing into the restaurant. You go back to your plate, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the easy atmosphere—until someone steps into your personal space.

“Hey there.”

You look up to find a man standing beside your table, tanned and confident, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. He’s got the kind of swagger that suggests he’s used to getting what he wants, and unfortunately, his attention seems fixed entirely on you.

“Uh, hi?” You blink, unsure if he’s lost or actually trying to start a conversation.

“I saw you earlier at the beach,” he says, leaning casually against the back of the empty chair Yoongi had just vacated. “Figured I’d say hello.”

You force a polite smile. “Oh. Hi.”

He doesn’t take the hint. “You here on vacation?”

You nod, keeping your answers short in hopes that he’ll get bored and move on. “Yeah.”

His smirk widens. “Same. You know, I’ve been here a few times. I could show you around, take you to some of the lesser-known spots.”

You open your mouth to decline, but before you can, he pulls out his phone. “Here, let me give you my number—”

A shadow falls over the table, and then Yoongi is there, sliding effortlessly back into his seat like he never left. He doesn’t say anything at first, just casually reaches for his drink and takes a slow sip, his expression unreadable behind his sunglasses. The guy straightens, looking slightly caught off guard.

Yoongi sets his glass down and finally speaks, voice even. “Everything good here?”

The man hesitates, glancing between you and Yoongi. “Oh—I didn’t realise you were with someone.”

Yoongi lifts a brow. “Yeah? You do now.” His tone is mild, but there’s something unimpressed about it, like he’s not in the mood for unnecessary conversation.

The guy shifts his weight, trying to play it cool. “No harm in saying hi, right?”

Yoongi doesn’t blink. “Sure. And you’ve done that.”

A beat of silence. The guy forces an awkward chuckle and pockets his phone. “Well, enjoy your vacation.”

You don’t say anything as he turns and walks off, but as soon as he’s out of earshot, Yoongi snorts. “Two minutes. You were alone for two minutes.”

You groan, sinking into your seat. “Don’t even start.”

He smirks, reaching for a shrimp from your plate like it’s his by right. “At least pick a guy with some creativity. ‘I can show you around’—what is this, a budget romance novel?”

You swat his hand away, making him chuckle. “I wasn’t exactly encouraging him.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” He leans back in his chair, looking amused. “You get hit on a lot when I’m not around?”

You shrug, reaching for your drink. “I mean, occasionally. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Yoongi hums, watching you over the rim of his glass before taking another sip. He doesn’t say anything else about it, but you catch the way his fingers tap idly against the table—like something about the interaction lingers in his mind.

The tension dissolves as the conversation shifts back to food, and soon enough, the two of you are making plans for the rest of the day.

“Beach again?” you ask, spearing a piece of lobster with your fork.

Yoongi shakes his head. “Let’s go into town. Check out the local markets.”

You perk up at the idea. “Oh, yes. I want souvenirs.”

“I figured.” He smirks. “Try not to buy useless junk.”

“No promises.”

────

By the time you return to the hotel room, the sun is starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow through the windows. The scent of saltwater clings to your skin, a lingering reminder of the day spent exploring the bustling local markets and wandering through narrow, winding streets filled with the scent of grilled meat and fresh fruit.

Yoongi drops onto the armchair by the window with a tired groan, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I don’t even want to know how much money you spent.”

You grin, plopping down on the edge of the bed, where a chaotic display of your shopping haul is spread out—a mix of trinkets, postcards, handmade soaps, and a questionable amount of keychains. “I regret nothing.”

Yoongi eyes the mess. “That is a lot of junk.”

“It’s meaningful junk,” you counter, picking up a small woven bracelet and tossing it at him. He catches it easily, turning it over in his fingers with mild interest before slipping it onto his wrist.

He stretches again before pushing up from his seat. “I need a shower.”

“Go for it,” you say, already distracted by sorting through your souvenirs. As soon as you hear the water running, you move quickly, pulling out the real surprise—a small, delicate necklace with a simple silver pendant. It had caught your eye at one of the quieter stalls, and you knew immediately it was perfect for him. Understated but elegant, something he could wear without it feeling too much.

Carefully, you set it down in the centre of the bed, right next to a small cupcake you had managed to smuggle back from the market. A single candle sticks out of it, waiting to be lit. You know Yoongi isn’t one for big, dramatic celebrations, but something small and thoughtful? That, he would appreciate.

As you finish arranging everything, you step back, taking a moment to appreciate the setup. A soft breeze drifts in from the open balcony door, rustling the curtains. The sound of running water from the bathroom hums in the background, and for a moment, anticipation settles over you like a warm blanket. You imagine his expression, the way his features soften when he’s caught off guard by something sincere. You hope this is one of those moments.

When the bathroom door finally swings open, Yoongi steps out, towel-drying his hair, his loose shirt sticking slightly to his damp skin. He pauses mid-step when he sees you sitting cross-legged on the bed, looking far too pleased with yourself.

“What now?” he asks, wary.

You gesture to the bed. “Surprise.”

He glances down, taking in the display. His brows lift slightly at the cupcake, then at the necklace resting beside it. “What’s this?”

“A little something for you,” you say casually, as if his reaction doesn’t make your heart do a small flip. “I know you don’t really make a big deal out of birthdays, but... I still wanted to do something.”

Yoongi exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he steps closer. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Of course I have to, I'm literally you're girlfriend. Besides, I wanted to.”

He picks up the necklace first, running his fingers over the pendant. His expression is unreadable, but you recognise the slight softening around his eyes. “This is nice.”

“I thought you’d like it,” you say, trying not to fidget under his gaze.

Yoongi sets the necklace down and reaches for the cupcake next. “You really got this through the entire day without squishing it?”

“It was a challenge,” you admit. “But I was dedicated.”

He chuckles, shaking his head before looking at you again. “Thank you.”

And just like that, the effort is more than worth it. You grab the lighter from the nightstand, flicking it on and leaning in to light the candle. The flame flickers between you as you meet his eyes, smiling.

“Make a wish, birthday boy.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at the nickname but doesn’t argue. Instead, he watches the candle for a moment, a contemplative look crossing his face before he leans in and blows it out.

The small wisp of smoke curls upward, and for a second, the room is silent, filled only with the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the lingering warmth of something unspoken between you.

“What’d you wish for?” you ask playfully.

Yoongi smirks, reaching for the necklace again. “Not telling.”

You pout, but the sight of him fastening the necklace around his neck is enough of a reward. It suits him, resting just above the collar of his shirt, catching the dim light of the room. He tugs at it once, adjusting it before glancing at you.

“Looks good?”

You nod, satisfied. “Looks perfect.”

He hums, brushing a hand through his damp hair before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Alright, what else did you buy? Let’s see the rest of this junk.”

You laugh, shoving a bag toward him. “Prepare to be amazed.”

Yoongi starts sifting through the items, making the occasional unimpressed noise, but you can tell he’s entertained. You lean in closer, nudging his shoulder when he scoffs at yet another keychain.

“You’re judging too hard,” you accuse.

“I’m judging just the right amount,” he counters, lips twitching.

You roll your eyes, but before you can respond, Yoongi suddenly tugs at your wrist, pulling you toward him. It’s unceremonious, quick—like he’s just following an impulse without thinking too hard about it. One second you’re sitting up, the next you’re half in his lap, your nose brushing against his.

Your breath catches, but he doesn’t let you linger in uncertainty. His lips press against yours, firm and warm, stealing the last of whatever teasing remark was about to leave your mouth. It’s not slow or dramatic—just easy, natural, like something that should’ve happened ages ago.

When he pulls back, he stays close, his forehead nearly resting against yours. His thumb traces absentmindedly along the inside of your wrist, his expression unreadable but his gaze steady.

“Happy now?” he murmurs.

You exhale a small, breathless laugh. “I mean, yeah. But what was that for?”

Yoongi shrugs, casual as ever. “Felt like it.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but the corners of his lips quirk up like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, but you don’t move away.

“And yet, you like me anyway,” he muses, leaning back against the pillows.

You shake your head, but there’s no real protest in you. Instead, you reach for the bag of souvenirs again, handing him another ridiculous trinket.

“Shut up and look at your presents.”

────

The morning moves slowly, stretching like honey between the sheets.

Yoongi is still half-asleep, his face buried in the pillow, hair an absolute mess. The soft rise and fall of his breath is steady, undisturbed, and you take a moment to simply watch him—how the sunlight paints his skin in soft golds, how the necklace you gave him glints faintly against his collarbone.

It suits him. The necklace, this moment, the quiet way he exists beside you.

You shift slightly, and Yoongi stirs, letting out a sleepy, disgruntled hum. His hand finds your waist under the covers, fingers splayed lazily against your skin, and he tugs you closer like it’s instinct.

“You’re staring again,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

“You’re pretty when you sleep,” you tease.

Yoongi groans, rolling onto his back. “Gross.”

You laugh, nudging him with your foot beneath the sheets. “It’s a compliment.”

“Sounds fake.”

He finally cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy, unimpressed look. But there’s no real bite behind it—just that soft, quiet fondness that lingers in the way he watches you.

You prop yourself up on one elbow, suddenly energized. “Okay, we have a lot to do today.”

Yoongi blinks at you, unimpressed. “It’s too early for whatever this is.”

“I’m serious!” You tap his chest lightly. “It’s our last full day here, and there’s so much left. We should go to that one café by the beach, and then maybe take the ferry out to the little island we saw. Oh! And I found this place that does boat tours at sunset—”

Before you can finish, Yoongi moves.

It’s effortless, the way he reaches up and tugs you down, cutting off your words with a kiss. It’s warm, slow—his lips brushing over yours in a way that makes you forget whatever else you were about to say. You melt into him, your breath hitching slightly when his hand slides up your back, fingers tracing the bare skin at the nape of your neck.

By the time he pulls away, you’re blinking down at him, momentarily speechless. He looks way too pleased with himself.

“Yoongi,” you start, trying to regain some sense of composure. “I was talking.”

“Mhm,” he hums lazily, tilting his head against the pillow. “I heard you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Then why’d you—”

“Because,” he says, his fingers drifting along the curve of your waist beneath the sheets, “you’re trying to drag me out of bed when I’d rather just stay here with you all day.”

Your breath catches slightly, and Yoongi smirks, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

You scoff, trying (and failing) to ignore the warmth spreading through you. “You can’t just distract me with kisses.”

He hums again, this time pressing a slow kiss to your jaw, then lower. “Seems like I can.”

Your resolve wavers embarrassingly fast. The idea of spending the entire day tangled up with him, the world outside fading away, is incredibly tempting.

Still, you try one last time. “But the boat tour…”

Yoongi sighs dramatically, flopping onto his back with a hand over his face. “Fine. We’ll go.”

You brighten instantly, about to roll out of bed, but before you can, he grabs your wrist and pulls you back against him.

“In like… four hours,” he adds, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You laugh, exasperated but completely endeared. “Two hours.”

“Three,” he bargains, eyes closed, a small smile playing at his lips.

You sigh, fingers absentmindedly tracing the necklace resting against his skin. “Fine. Three.”

Yoongi hums in approval, his hand slipping beneath the sheets to rest against the small of your back. You expect him to settle back into sleep, but instead, he tilts his head, pressing an unhurried kiss to your collarbone. Then another, slower this time, his lips warm against your skin.

You bite back a small whine. “Three hours is going to turn into all day if you keep that up.”

He smirks, finally looking up at you properly. “Exactly.”

And when he kisses you again—lazy, unhurried, like there’s nothing waiting for you outside this bed—you think maybe he has the right idea.

[happysparklingshadows]

A Certain Hunger (6/?)

Chapter 5 ✿ Chapter 7

Summary: Passion and fear go hand in hand. You find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place; you might as well enjoy yourself while you're here. Playing games and playing with fingers distract you from the looming dread that everyone and everything is falling apart. Your adult self is slipping back into old habits and fears, rediscovering how she used to listen through the trees.

Pairing: Surviving!Poly! Yellowjackets x reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Smut (18+), Angst, loss of virginity, the reader has sex against a tree after her weird trippy episode in the last chapter, Natalie finally puts the moves on the reader, Lowkey period sex but its chill, Natalie is a messy toxic 90s bisexual who is still figuring it out, Mentions of menstrual cycle, Mentions of stalking, the 90s setting with the views of the time, internalized homophobia, Mentions of body and body weight, the occult, and possession.

Word count: 18k (the longest so far and I am sorry if that is a turn off!)

Notes: Happy Season 3 premiere!! The title of the French chapter, "Friends on the Other Side," is for anyone who is wondering! All French will have translations at the bottom of the chapter. Happy to use my one year of college French for good use! I also have put this series on wattpad and Ao3, and made a playlist for this story if you wanted to check it out.

❀ A03 ❀ wattpad ❀ spotify playlist  ❀

‘96

🎵 This is how we do it 🎵

“One, two, one, two, three, four!”  Mari yells out with her fingers matching her words over the music. Everyone around you starts to jump and dance to the music, appreciating the little music you have heard in the last few months. 

🎵 This is how we do it  🎵

“Running Man, Running Man!” You all say as you wave your hands above your head to dance to the song from the MTV video. 

“Bart Simpson, Bart Simpson!” You stepped back as some of the girls stepped forward, smiles and giggles dancing around the air as you joyfully sang to Montell Jordan. You barely even notice the pinch in your neck as you giggle. Your eyes met with Misty, who meekly stood in the doorway and swayed to the music, too scared to join in but watched on. You all step back to the wall, bump into Laura Lee, and giggle, grabbing her hand that was reaching for yours with a shared laugh. 

“And Javi! Javi!” Mari giggles as she pulls the thirteen-year-old into the center to dance for everyone. You whistled to him with the others, encouraging him to dance. Seeing the shy kid come out of his shell a bit was sweet. This is the most you have seen him interact with the group, and it made your smile grow on your cheeks. 

“Designated driver, take the keys to my truck.” All of you sing and whip your hands outstretched in front of yourselves, like you were driving a car. “Hit the shore ‘cause I’m faded.” you all continued as you ran a hand over your eyes to cover them, turning to someone side yourselves. “Honey’s in the street say, “Monty, yo, we made it.” 

You gave up singing along as everyone took to their own rhythm and moved their bodies freely, your arms flailing above your head as you swayed your hips around. “It feels so good in my hood tonight. The summertime skirts and the guys in kani, All the gang bangers forgot about the drive-by-” 

The music weakly tries to continue but dies pathetically in the middle of the song. Everyone stilled in disappointment as Van walked to the walkman with a grumbled damn it. 

The room filled with panting of the girls, yours being one of them, as you felt your chest heave, breathe in like a suffocating person, “What happened?” Jackie asked Van from beside you. 

“I don’t know,” Van grumbles again, frustrated about the death of her beloved Walkman as she slaps the box. “Oh, no. Has hitting something ever fixed it?” 

“M-Maybe try blowing on it?” Mari says, coming closer to the girls and circling the box. 

Creak. Creaaakk.   

“The fuck is that?” Mari asks the group. 

“Hey, you heard it too?” Lottie asks the group quietly as she looks around the room, 

“It was probably just a branch.” Taissa reasoned, unimpressed, with her hands on her hips, stoic as ever. 

“Inside, on the floor?” Mari asked her with wide eyes. She was floored by any explanation other than a ghost. “What if it’s... him?”

“What, the dead guy?” Shauna asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Um, yeah,” Mari grumbled. 

“You know what it probably was? The dead guy’s missing fingers trying to crawl their way home.” Natalie smirked as she spoke, trying to scare everyone mischievously. Akilah slaps Natalie’s chest at the joke. Everyone jeers on at Natalie and some tell her to shut up for even joking. You laughed at her joke even though you shouldn’t, you couldn’t help it. 

“You really have to encourage them?” Taissa sighs. 

“You got to admit, it didn’t sound like it was on the roof.” Akilah says to Taissa with a worried wrinkle on her brow. 

Jackie reasoned, “Fine, then it was a rat, or a raccoon, or something. I don’t know, it-.” 

“Shh!” Lottie interrupted, looking up to the ceiling, trying to listen in on whatever was up in the attic. 

“Oh my god.” Taissa completely deflates her arms and turns to her makeshift bed shoved into the corner 

“Shh. Listen, " Lottie says, focusing on what she hears.

 You all wait for something to happen, but nothing does. 

“Well, I don’t hear it now.” Mari broke the silence.  

“See?’ Taissa jeered with a smirk, she laid her blanket on the ground. 

“Alright. Alright. You know what I think it was? I think the ghost decided it was time to get some sleep. And we should probably do the same, yeah?” Coach Ben reasons. 

Everyone whined and booed at Coach Ben, but everyone started to lay out their beds on the floor. Some were whispering in the corner of the room like Misty and Krystal about the ghost upstairs, but the cabin's ground floor came to a lull and was peacefu when everyone fell asleep.

You lay down, sandwiched between Jackie and Shauna, staring up at the ceiling. 

Your period was heavy this month for some reason. Your cycle has been all messed up since the crash, and it was beginning to become normal again. Your first month in the woods, you were so anxious for when your period would start, only for it never to come as the others all started around you. You and Shauna both snickered at the blessing of not having your periods before getting rescued. The next one was surprisingly light and quick, only lasting three days, it was a dark pink and watery red spotting, but as you lay in your makeshift bed, you were on the fifth day of heavy, deep red. It was your first real period in the woods, and your body made sure you paid the price for having some peace in your womb by giving you extremely painful cramps and nausea that would sneak up on you in the hot August sun.  You used 6 of the makeshift pads yesterday and felt embarrassed, especially because you had to make a new one almost every time you needed a new one. The makeshift pads were made from shirts and stuffing from one of Travis’s orange puffer jackets, which he packed and offered up instead of Laura Lee’s bear. When everyone was having a discussion, and the girls talked about how they were going to make the pads, everyone looked over to the brown bear lying on Laura’s blanket. Travis offered his coat, saying his mom made him pack the stupid coat that he never wore and might be best used for stuffing our pads. It shocked you. You didn’t realize he had the ability to have empath after all his assholey comments, but it was making you see the guy in a better light slowly. But after he offered it, he demanded never to be informed about our periods again and stormed out of the cabin while Ben chuckled and Javi was mortified. Thankfully, it seemed to mellow out within the last day, and you were hoping your period would completely calm down before tomorrow. 

The cabin's ceiling had dust stains and caked-on cobwebs that had been built upon themselves for years stare back down at your tiredness. Your legs twitched under your blanket, you felt your heart pounding in your chest somehow. Your mind was numb and thoughtless as you felt the fuzzy fabric of your mother's handmade blanket caress your legs. The hours went by with no sleep in sight for you. You sat up quietly and looked around at the others to see if anyone was still awake. You couldn’t find anyone as you tried to stand up without a sound, you crept to the door and to the pile of shoes everyone had left. You slipped on your shoes and hugged your blanket around your shoulders.

You open the door a little to sliver so it won’t groan, and so you won’t wake the others. After you slip through the crack, you close it behind you. The cold summer air hits you first as you start walking aimlessly. 

It was dangerous. It was dark, and you got confused last time. 

At least, that's what you like to believe and what others think as well. They believed you were dehydrated and got confused, and they decided it was no longer okay for you to go out on your own because they believed that your weight loss could be the main reason. You wanted to fight back against them, but you were two sizes smaller than before the crash almost four months ago, and it concerned Jackie and Shauna the most. But, something within you couldn’t fully believe it was just because of you. You are the smartest student at your school, scored the highest on the ACT, and were supposed to go to NYU in September. And somehow, the others look to you for guidance in the wilderness like a leader. You knew you were of sound mind, and you wouldn’t have imagined a tree creature watching you, or not noticing a significant amount of hours passing. It was something else. 

You didn’t want to think about the tree woman again, you didn’t want to think that day even happened. You made sure to skip that day in your journal. As you have for most days after that scary one, except to log your period and take notes of the food everyone got in the day. You felt depressed as your period came with an almost bored feeling lording over your head all day. 

You continue to walk on, you decide to turn left at the fork in the path towards the poop bucket cliff, and you hear the tree whistle beside you. It was calming you down. You didn’t feel the fear of the forest anymore because you hadn’t seen the creature yet, and you hadn’t felt the energy that you had that day either since. 

It became your escape once again. Away from the others momentarily and to feel your feelings away from your friends' prying eyes. You loved your friends, the first- and second-year students, and their coach over the time you have been out here, but they can be overwhelming with their questions and concerns. You knew they couldn’t help that they didn’t have wilderness survival drilled into their heads since they were kids, and they couldn’t help being nervous about the things they didn’t understand. But you wanted to sometimes scream at their immaturity and recklessness. 

The chill in the air woke you up as you came closer to the bluff cliff of the mountain, and looked up to the sky. You look down at your feet anxiously, thinking you might fall over even though you stood 6 feet away from the drop-off, and you sit down on a smooth rock you had become fond of when you had poop duty. The rock was at the base of a tree and was big enough to be a seat. 

You look up at the clear night sky, littered with stars and a full moon lighting up the night. You take a deep breath of the clean, crisp air, a breeze from the top of the mountain. You can hear the whole forest where you sit, and it makes you feel so peaceful and safe. The water from the lake, the feet of small animals crawling up the trees, the berries and leaves dancing in the bushes, and the branches breathing beside you. 

You couldn’t help but grasp the fuzzy blanket closer as the thought of your mom came to mind. Your lip pursed, but no tears came to your eyes. “I hope Mom is looking at this moon. She would love how bright it is, " you thought as you relaxed more on the cold rock. “Dad would love the view… Dad would be proud of me, I think. I have gone good so far.” 

A smile came to your lips as you knew what you thought was right. You have done well as a group so far, and it was all thanks to your father. You knew that you would be thanking him so much if you were saved. 

If you were saved.

It grossed you out to even think about the possibility you all wouldn’t be found in time. The cold breezes of the summer make you think of the colder and harsher months ahead when food will become rare. What if you all starve to death, get the flu and die from lack of vitamins, or fall asleep without a fire in the fireplace on accident? You had to push those thoughts to the back of your mind for later days, as for now, you try to relax on your rock. Hoping that maybe tonight was the night a plane or helicopter would fly by. 

You look up to the clear sky at the stars that shine for what seems like only for you. The moon was almost half the sky from your angle on the mountain. It was like looking at the proof of a god because nothing could just be that beautiful and serene. 

Snap!

You turn your head to the side and see Taissa standing there with a blank expression, which startles you. 

“Oh! Taiss-” 

“Find her,” Taissa rasped, her eyes staring past yours. Her voice didn’t seem like her own as she stepped closer. Under the moonlight, her eyes almost looked red. 

“What?” You asked as you stood up from the rock, a little scared at how quickly she approached you. 

“Find her,” she repeated as a smile started to curl on the corners of her lips

“Taissa? What are you saying? Why are you here?” You sternly said as you stepped back out of confusion, why was she here? How did she know you were here? 

“Uh—” Taissa blinks, and slowly, her face becomes hers again. She rubs her eyes. “I don’t—sorry, I am half asleep. I saw you weren’t in the cabin and got worried.” 

“Oh—” you say as you look over her in concern. It doesn’t make sense why she would know you were here. “Oh, okay! It’s okay! I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Sorry, I don’t know. I fell asleep while I was looking for you! That was crazy!” Taissa chuckled, pulling her hand out to lead you back to the cabin. “Let’s go back to bed. It’s cold out here,” she added. There was dirt caked underneath her fingernails and her cuticles, it made you pause before you took her hand. But you took it so as not to cause a scene, just wanting to leave the situation and get back to your bed. 

“Okay, let’s go to bed. I’m exhausted,” you sigh as you look at Taissa. You can’t help but ask, “How did you know I was here?” 

“I hear you.” 

“I didn’t do anything.” 

“I don’t know. I heard you breathing,” Taissa said as she looked down at her shoes, not even knowing her answer and how she knew you were there. 

You didn’t notice the symbol carved on the back of the tree, on the opposite side of where you were leaning your back, dripped sap onto the ground as you walked past it. 

You woke up later than normal today as the sunlight shined right into your eyes. The others must have given you a break. You give yourself a moment of peace as you stare at the ceiling. Your body felt achy and unwell, your inner thighs sticky and wet with sweat, and you softly became aware of the dull pain coming from deep in your stomach. When you finally pulled yourself from the ground and stood up, you noticed the only other person still lying down was Jackie. People would have tried to wake her up, but she had lied back down. “Lazy Jackie,” you think to yourself as you loom over Jackie’s lying body on the ground. You couldn’t help but chuckle, softly lift your leg, and shake her shoulder with your foot. 

“Jackie.” You say to her like a lure, only to have Jackie groan in response and not move. “Come on, wake up.” 

Jackie cuddles her blanket to her shoulders and groans, “I’m so cold.”

You look down at her with an unimpressed purse of your lips, and she rolls onto her back with a grimace of pain, “I have cramps.” 

“No, duh, Jackie. We’re all cramping; we’re all synced up, and Mari has Endo, so you don’t have any excuses, princess.” You say as you kick her shoulder again, and she groans loudly again. But she reluctantly sits up as you watch her. She yawns. You pat her shoulder and smile, “Shouldn’t be too much work today, just keeping up.” 

You and Jackie get dressed for the day, and she comments on how the two of you should match, to which you agree wholeheartedly. Jackie and you were as close as you used to be in the wilderness. Jackie would always find her way back to you in the forest fishing to sit and talk. 

Despite the circumstances, you were so relieved to know Jackie still sees you as her sandbox friend as you did, and even more so now than ever have the two of you relied on each other with Shauna. 

Your overpacking for the trip was such a blessing in disguise, and your body insecurity, making you have many changes of clothes, benefited you by having almost a new pair of clothes every day. But it always bit you in the ass when it was your time to do laundry, and you had to carry all your weight clothes on an incline—multiple times. 

“Hey, do you want to wear your blue shirt? Match with me?” Jackie says as she starts to button up her blue and white-striped button-up. She looks at the blue shirt you wore yesterday, lying on top of your luggage or, lately, your dresser, and then over to you as you pull your pajamas over your head. 

“I can’t. It’s dirty. I only have my butterfly shirt and my cardigan clean, " you replied, shaking your head softly. Then, you pulled your shorts off your legs. 

“Why are you wearing a cardigan? It’s like 100 degrees outside.” Jackie snickered as she struggled with a button, looking at you humorously. 

You felt a small wave of insecurity come over you. You had a habit of wearing long sleeves to hide your arms. You didn’t like the idea that someone could see your chubby arm jiggle when you simply grabbed something, but you were sweating like a pig because it was 100 degrees outside. “I don’t like my arms, " you answered your best friend as you looked at your feet for a second out of embarrassment. You continue to pull up your jean shorts from your ankles as you wrap the belt around your waist. 

Jackie didn’t say anything for a moment as she looked you over softly with her buggy brown eyes, and she always hated when you put yourself down for being fat but she wasn’t going to disagree when it was about your feelings about your body. She was always mindful about that.

“I don’t see why you have to overheat; you have limps on the side of your body like everyone else. But the sweater is cute, so I will let off easy this one time for not matching with me this one time, okay.”

You just shake your head jokingly and narrow your eyes, “Other people have arms too?” 

She rolls her eyes at you as she finally finishes her shirt. “Oh, haha. You know what I was trying to say.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You giggle as you nudge Jackie’s shoulder, and she returns the giggle with you as you both leave the cabin.

You were stopped by Alilah making a makeshift pad. She sits infront of the fire with the hunting knife in her hands, two of your big pots hang from their hooks on the fireplace crane. 

“Hey!” Alilah says with a smile sent both of your ways, pointing the knife to the two pots, one an orangeish brown and the other a deep red, “Bloody Soldiers on the left and breakfast on the right, okay! Don’t mess them up, like Travis did.” Aliliah finished by turning her head to the boy behind her eating his breakfast. 

“Okay, you guys are disgusting. I’m-” Travis cringed, getting up from his tree trunk. 

“Shut up,” Aliliah replied softly with a chuckling shake of her head. 

“Yeah, shut up, dork. You’re the one who wanted to eat the red one, " you say to Travis with a soft eye roll. You were growing to not hate the guy, but he somehow still got on your nerves. 

“Whatever.” Travis says as he storms off to the cabin, passing by you. You felt the wind swirl from his movements away from your standing body. 

You smile at Alilah and the other girls; Mari stops Jackie beside you, thrusting a bucket in her hands. “How about getting some more water? Breakfast isn’t going anywhere.” 

Jackie stood stunned by Mari and looked on with an open mouth. She looked over to you for an answer. You felt satisfied that Jackie had finally been called out for not helping out, but you didn’t like the feeling of her sad brown eyes looking at you. 

“Okay, a little bitchy Mari, but yeah, Jackie, go get some water and your morning walk in.” You say it with a smile, sending Mari a sharp look but a smile to Jackie. “You can help Laura Lee with laundry today and get your feet in the water.” You offered Jackie with a soft voice to lure her into trying it out.  

“Okay,” Jackie grumbled, a pout on her lips as she walked away towards the lake. 

You felt yourself pause at the fact that Jackie wasn’t pulling her own weight, as she hasn’t your whole friendship, and that she is becoming increasingly lazy as the days drag on. You didn’t want to act like you were doing favoritism and make the others jealous, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scold Jackie, at least on your own. You look down to see Shauna staring off where Jackie walked away from, and her eyes slowly traveling to yours. Your eyes communicated the same thing; something needed to be said before it became a bigger problem. 

“Here,” Shauna mumbled as she handed you her mug of water. You took a big gulp of it without question. The summer heat was getting to you already this early in the day, and you panted softly as you took the mug from your lips. 

“Thank you, Shauna.” You cheer down to her with a smile, then turn to the others around the cabin doing odd jobs like cutting the firewood, eating, or hanging clothes on the clothing line. 

“Hey Guys! Good Morning!” You say out to everyone with a big wave of your hand. You look over to everyone, giving you their complete attention. Misty is already raising her hand to ask a question. “Cleaners and Cooks, you are off the hook today! Um, if you have any time, try to find some mud or clay to patch up the crack in the window! And cooks, keep smoking out the jerky; it needs to be completely dry before we can eat it!” 

“(Y/n)?” Misty asks politely as she lightly lowers her hand as your eyes meet hers. 

“Yes, Misty?” 

“I was hoping I could go out and forage today to find some more medicine for our periods, and Ben-” 

There was loud snickering in the corner of Mari, Alilah, and Marlissa, and you looked at them with a sharp eye for a moment. 

“Have something to add, Mari?” 

Mari looks at you with wide eyes for a moment in shock. You would call her out for the second time this morning: “No, but Misty is trying to make a love potion or something!” 

“I am not!” Misty flushes with a deep red on her cheeks, her voice laced with shame and embarrassment. It wasn’t the first time Misty was shut down for her requests or mocked for simply standing around, you have grown tired of the bullying Misty has been put through out here. 

“Okay, so, you're going to make fun of her for trying to find some pain relief while we are all on our periods, Mari?” 

“Well-” 

“You’re going to be real happy when Misty finds something that can smooth out your endometriosis, but you just fine making fun of her in the meantime?” You lecture as you talk with your hands and slap them to your sides as you add, “It’s pointless, why say that?” 

“(Y/n), I wasn’t trying to say anything like that-” 

“Mari. We are all in the same boat. Misty is here with us, and I am happy she is here because all she does is try to help out, as much as anyone else, and she cares. She is the reason some of us are even still alive.” You say to Mari with almost a stoic brow that you felt you had authority over the girls and needed to use it for the team's betterment. Infighting will only cause more unneeded tension. You turn your face from the almost crying Mari, ashamed underclassmen around her, then to Misty.

Misty looks on at you in awe, a creeping smile on her face, awkward, and pushes her glasses closer to her face. The flush on her cheeks didn’t go away with time.

“Misty, do whatever you think is necessary. " You turn your head back to the group, now looking to the ground. “You all will go with her for safety and to build empathy. It seems to be the wilderness skill you all lack.” 

“But-” Mari stammered with a soft pout of disgust on her lips. 

“What?” You ask her softly, you're eyebrow-raising without your control. You could hear a snickering behind you; you knew Van and Shauna were watching you control the underclassmen with amusement. They always remembered you as someone who was too nice, and seeing you talk sternly yet sweetly to the younger girls made them want to laugh. You didn’t stop the snickering from behind you as a smirk softly tried to come to your lips. It was Mari’s own karma. 

“Nothing. Fine.” Mari says as she looks to the ground. 

“Okay, great, happy to get that sorted.” You say with a sigh, your hands on your hips, and you look behind yourself to Shauna and Van, trying not to laugh when your eyes meet their amused ones. “Alright, Natalie and I will go mapping until noon. Then, Natalie will go hunting with Travis. Javi, I want you to go wood cutting with Taissa, and Taissa, I want you to look out for any tracks.” 

Taissa nods her head at you with a smile when your eyes meet. She sits across from Van now as she eats her breakfast gruel.

Laura Lee raises her hand softly, “May I speak?” 

“Of course.” 

“Is anyone going to look at the plane? You know, see if it could work. Or use the radio to communicate with someone to rescue us.” 

You pale slightly at the thought of returning to the old passenger plane. You said, “I don’t know if it’s safe, but if you felt like you needed to check, go for it. Please don’t try to start it or go inside of it too much. Read the book if you want.”

Laura Lee smiled and nodded her head, “Already on it.” 

You smile back, “Okay, just don’t hurt yourself.” 

“God willing.” Laura Lee agreed with an earnestness that made you smile more. 

“Okay. Alright, is there anything else? Except mending clothes and cleaning our rags?” You ask the group as Jackie struggles behind you with the bucket full of water. No one had anything else to add so the morning announcement ending unceremoniously.

“Fuck.” Jackie gasped from behind you as she leaned over the bucket. Van and Taissa share sharp looks of annoyance at Jackie’s panting, just proving their thoughts about Jackie being lazy. It made you feel bad as you didn’t know what to do. You sent her to do her chores, and she could barely do them. Everyone looked to you to correct her, but you didn’t even know how to confront those thoughts.

Shauna stands up, notices the looks, and comes to Jackie’s on a mission: “Hey, do you need a hand?” 

“No, it’s okay.” Jackie sighed. “I got it.”

Jackie flexed her aching wrist as you approached the conversation with your best friends, “Why are you so chipper? Don’t you have a blood sacrifice between your legs like the rest of us?” Jackie asked Shauna with a soft concern in her eyes as she rubbed her wrist. You turn your head to Shauna with your head tilted a little, and the memory of her not having a period with you the first month comes to mind. 

“Um, I’m late this month,” Shauna replied quickly. “Uh, we were in a plane crash. It’s probably just stress.” 

You nod your head beside Jackie as you accept her response. “I didn’t even have a period our first month, but it came back, it’s kicking my ass now.” 

“Yeah, lucky you’re a virgin or we’d really have to worry.’ Jackie chuckles as she smiles at Shauna and yourself, leaning down to get the bucket. “Anyways, enjoy it while it lasts, I guess. This rag situation is a fucking horror show.”  

“I know! I had to make myself 6 two days ago because I couldn’t stop bleeding. I wanted to die!” You joke to Jackie as she walks to the cabin to put up the water, Jackie laughs with a snort as she struggles away. You turn your head to Shauna to see if she thought it was funny too only to see her staring blankly at Jackie’s back. 

“Hey, you okay, Shauna?” You ask her with your hand coming to her shoulder. 

She tried to smile as pushed your hand away, “Yeah. I just have to get some water.”

She walks away as Van approaches you. You don’t even get to move an inch as Van comes over to you and says, “Hey, can I help you go fishing today? I wanted to give it a try on the pole.” 

You laugh softly, “What? But, yeah okay! You can come whenever you want you don’t have to ask, Van!” 

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you wanted to hang out with me for a while.” 

“Of course, Van, you're my friend.” You smile and touch her arm softly, and you can see Taissa looking at the two of you talking. “I can tell you all my secrets now.” 

“Oh, (Y/n), has secrets? I didn’t think you could keep a secret.” 

“What do you even mean by that?” You question with a smile on your lips and a chuckle in your voice.

“I don’t know, how about when we were smoking in the back of the cabin, and you told everyone you have little stories about Vampires.” 

You blush in embarrassment, “Oh my god, Shut up, please!” 

Van laughs as Taissa walks by you two with five cut logs for firewood. As she passes, she says, “Hey, I just beat your record.”  

“What?” 

“I carried more than four logs of wood!” Taissa stuck her tongue out to you as she snickered. She’s mentioning the logs you were carrying when you found them kissing. 

“Oh, what the fuck ever!” You laugh at everyone and turn your back to walk away to go to the bathroom.   

‘21

You: Callie is home now. But yeah, she slept over my house because she was having some friend drama.  Shauna: Did she tell you what it was about? You: Not really, and to be honest its very petty stuff.  You: Some girl is talking about how Callie is being fake for being nice to her even though she is friends with her boyfriends ex  Shauna: Okay, that makes me feel better but I wished you had called me You: Callie came into the house screaming and upset, and we talked for hours and by time I could call you I knocked out You: I’m old now Shauna: We’re the same age!  You: We’r so old  Shauna: *We’re  You: fuck you Shauna: whatever loser You: Callie picked out my outfit for the romance convention  You: and the reunion You: She found my New York clothes Shauna: Oh she found the good stuff Shauna: You’re going to the reunion? You: Are you? You: I don’t know if I can go if you don’t. I don’t want to be the only one there, you know.  Shauna: Are you going to brunch?

You pause as you read your text. God, it’s almost Jackie’s 43rd birthday. 

You put your phone down on your lap as you sit in the driver's seat of your car. You wanted to text Shauna when you dropped off Callie. You were getting ready to leave after making Callie lunch when you got a call from Misty. You couldn’t help but sigh a little when you saw her call you again, making it about 10 times since you left the car with her—after impulsivity, eating her out in her driver’s seat. You knew she meant well, and she was lonely. She couldn’t help how creepy she came off as.

She told you to meet up with her at Natalie's hotel, which you told her you couldn’t go to because of how tense it was between you two last time. 

Misty asked again, promising it was only to figure out what had happened to Travis. The guilt in your stomach didn’t let you disagree that you owed Travis this, even if you knew there was no killer deep down. It was himself. He couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t blame him. You remember how much you hated him at first, and how he grew to be a friend out there in the woods. You remember a lot about him you wish to forget, but some you hold dear. He was gentle when it counted. 

So, You turn towards Natalies, and with your luck, you got there before Misty. You knew you needed to face Natalie again and be honest about how you were far too brutal with her the last time you spoke. 

You kiss your teeth, reapply lip gloss, and slap your mirror shut. You hated it when you were in drama with them. 

You knock on her door politely as you have your emotions under control. 

Natalie opens the door with narrow eyes and sharply asks, “What are you doing here?”

“Misty told me we needed to meet for something related to Travis.” You pause and try to smile at her. Then you ask, “How are you holding up?” 

“Why are you here?” 

You tilt your head and feel confused yourself, “I guess because I want to get answers to what you were right about. And also, because I didn’t like how we last spoke.”

Natalie leaned on her door and looked deeply at you. She knew you were being honest, "Like it always does.” 

You shrug as her words bring back many memories—before the crash, in the woods, and after—good moments and bad. “Well, I will always love you even if I can’t be there for you. I am here now. I want to support you and Travis, " you say to her and smile again. This one came from something deeper in you than just this moment. 

She gives you a smile back. Maybe the cycle you shared with her wasn’t healthy, but none of your relationships were. She opens the door to let you in, and you take a seat on her bed without question.

She just stands there and looks at you with pursed lips like Natalie is trying to find words for you. “I hope you know I get why you did go with Misty. I just didn’t know how to respond to it all.” 

“It’s okay, I was just really testy that day for some reason. I saw my dad and it just- yeah, I’m sorry for being so hurtful but someone was lurking to get you to spill.” 

“You know I can handle myself.” 

“I know. But, I didn’t know if she would be asking about Travis, not the wilderness.” You say to her as you look at your lap and play with your fingers to soothe the small shake. “I didn’t know if you could talk about him with someone looking for answers. I wanted to protect you.” 

“Protect my feelings?” Natalie asked, raising her eyebrow mockingly. “You know where that led you before, (y/n). Be careful.” 

You chuckle darkly with a shake of your head. Fucking bitch. 

“Okay, will do, my queen.” You smirked with your mock back to her. You didn’t need Natalie of all people, to tell you about your habit of overweighing others over yourself. 

There was a knock at the door. It was in Morse code. 

“ I told you we didn’t need a code.” Natalie spat as she opened the hotel door for Misty. 

“I’ve got good news and bad news.” Misty cheers as she hands Natalie a pink present with green tissue on the top. Walking inside of the room. 

“Which one is this?” 

“No, open it,” Misty says. She turns in the motel room, smiles as she sees you sitting on the bed, and waves to you. You think she is excited to be inside Natalie’s room finally. You smile back and wave, telling her you and Natalie are alright now. “It’s an Aroma Diffuser. Ylang-ylang with a hint of gardenia, subtropical florals are very, very uplifting.”

Natalie opens the box as Misty speaks. She looks over the owl diffuser and then at you as you watch the women walk around the room. Misty is indifferent to Natalie opening the present and looks around the room curiously. She opens a little file to see what is inside. “Good to know. What’s the bad news?” 

“Well, uh, my contact can access the files, but he’s a bit of a D-bag.” 

“Who is this person, exactly?” Natalie asked as she looked over Misty’s body. 

“We only know each other by our Citizen Detective chat handles. He’s mad at me because I didn’t tell him it was a police file,” She paused to push up her glasses, “so now he wants to meet in public to ‘discuss’ the terms of the exchange.” 

Natalie looks at you quickly, the two of you share a look for a millisecond as you both process the information. “Oh, we’ll meet all right.” Natalie chuckles. 

“Is that going to work, Nat?” You ask as you loom over Natalie’s crouching figure; she is siphoning gas from a car outside the chinese restaurant. Misty anxiously standing beside you as the both of you try to hide Natalie’s body from onlookers. 

“I mean, most restaurants won’t let you bring in drinks or food or anything." Misty adds as she hands Natalie the mobile coffee cup. As she inserts the tube to fill it, Natalie spits the little that got into her mouth. 

“I don’t know, you tell me, guys.” Natalie says to both of you as she fulls up the cup. “I’ve still got that rifle in the truck.” 

“Well, I don’t know how we’d get that into the restaurant,” Misty asks, disappointed that she hasn't figured out why the gun should be used instead. You pale at the thought of the gun. Natalie sighs. 

The three of you walk into the restaurant with a swayer you haven’t felt in years, maybe since you were a young woman clubbing in New York. The restaurant was lit in red and held tiny lanterns on the ceiling of the place, divers between every table. You find a single man sitting alone at a table. 

You smile as you approach the table and sit beside the man with the cup in your hands. You say in your best sexy voice to the man with a ponytail, “Stallion99?”

“African Gray?” He asks you back as he looks at the two other women across the table. 

“Yeah, that's her.” You point to him carelessly to Misty as you smile wider, his eyes lock into yours and back to Misty, then back to yours and a glance down to your breasts. 

“I’m African gray, " Misty said as she looked at the two of you. You let your hand snake on his shoulder with a soft squeeze. 

“I…” He looked flustered at you, then glanced back at Misty and said, “I didn’t authorize anyone else to come to this meeting.” He whispered to Misty, leaning over the table slightly so she could hear him. Your hand ran to the back of his neck, and you saw the touch-starved goosebumps on his skin prickle. 

“Well, cool out. I can vouch for them.” Misty whispered hissed back to him as she tried to look cool in front of Natalie and yourself. 

“Oh my god. Just tell us what you want.” Natalie sighs as she stares the man down. 

“I want in.” 

You laugh out loud, out of control, looking at him with raised eyebrows and a mocking smirk. It unsettled the man, and the other people in the restaurant, but the two other women looked just as amused.  Who, in their right mind, would want to be with the yellowjackets? 

“On what?” 

“You operation. The stiff in this file, I looked him up, and he doesn’t exist.” 

“No shit, ‘cause he’s dead. And he’s none of your goddamn business. So you should just give us the file to look after it.” Natalie slowly spoke. You knew her threat was deep as you looked over at the man. He’s not taking it seriously. Your finger playfully unscrews the cap of the coffee mug. 

“What’s it worth to you?” 

“You have no idea.” You giggle a little when you slowly pour out the gas onto his crouch, wetting his pants. He reacts quickly, trying to stop the pouring with a grunt, “What the hell?” 

“If the question is, “Is me lighting your dick on fire and going to jail worth me getting my hands on that file’” Natalie says as she pulls out her lighter and lights it without hesitation. She stares him down from across the table with her sharp blue eyes. 

“You guys are fucking crazy! Here!” he pulls a flash drive out of his breast pocket and gives it to Natalie, you pull away from him in the booth. Natalie and Misty quickly get up and start to leave. You do the say and send the man a quick, “Sorry, it’s really important!” as you rush behind the girls—a small giggle in your throat. 

“You should ask that guy out. You two have so much in common,” Natalie chuckles jokingly to Misty. Her eyes find you quickly as you laugh a little with the two women. Misty scoffs beside you two with a shake of her head, and you can’t help but giggle a little at her face.

‘96

You walk peacefully beside Natalie through the greenery, looking up at the leaves above you. Natalie looks down at her shoes as she adjusts the rifle strap. She looks around for tracks, but she is still learning them. 

“Natalie?” you ask as you look at the blonde bottle. You have felt nervous whenever you have been around her lately. You felt your heart beat hard against your chest, and you could feel a little lump form in your throat.

“Yeah?” 

“Have you ever gone camping before all this?”  

Natalie chuckled and shook her head, amused. “With my big happy family, we always go camping at national parks every summer.” She darkly jokes with a rasp you only heard when she was trying to be tough. You felt like she was mocking you a little bit as you felt your eyebrow furrow and realized she was technically talking about you and your family before you could speak. “Shit, sorry, I wasn’t making fun of you, I was trying to joke about my own fucked up family.” 

“I didn’t think you meant it.” You reassure her as you look at her with round eyes, trying not to have her hurt feelings. You felt so better and not offended after seeing Natalie try to fix her fuck up. 

“You don’t have to lie for my sake.” Natalie stops walking and looks at you with hurt eyes. Her blue eyes, looking into yours, melting your heart. 

“I’m not, I just give you the benefit of the doubt, I know you wouldn’t hurt my feelings on purpose. You were just being sarcastic.” You smile again and touch her arm to reassure her that her comment didn’t hurt your feelings deeply.

Natalie looked over your face slowly, as if she couldn’t trust your response. “Why are you so nice? I know I didn’t mean it, but it sounded like I was talking shit about you. You know you can be a bitch to me, right?” 

You chuckle, and a smile grows as you shrug, “Natalie, why would I do that?”

“I don’t know! Just don’t let me walk all over you, it pisses me off.” She says with a raised eyebrow, she just looks over at you in a judgemental way. 

You raise your eyebrow at the energy of her getting cagey with you being kind to her, you let your lips purse as you say to her, “I’m not letting you walk all over me. I am just being a good friend. I know you, Natalie, so you weren’t trying to put me down. Just drop it if you are going to be weird.” 

“You know what? Let's be honest since we’re stuck out here and have all the time in the world. What's the game?” Natalie asked you with narrowed eyes, resting her hand on her hip. She was studying you, and she didn’t trust what she saw. 

“What game?” you ask, offended. “Why are you giving me the fifth degree for asking if you ever went camping?” 

“I’m not. I just don’t know how you can be so nice when there isn’t any reason for it. I don’t trust it.” 

“What the fuck, Natalie?!” You yelled as your eyes widened in shock. You take a step back from her and look her over. What happened to the girl you would flirt with? “I can’t be myself without you acting like I am pretending! I don’t understand-”

“It’s not normal for people to be this kind without getting something it. For, like, the first year of our friendship, I thought you were being fake.” 

You felt your heart sink into your stomach and your throat dry up. You wanted to cry but you were so overwhelmed with how Natalie was talking to you, “I don’t-”

“I’m not trying to be mean, I’m being honest. You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met, and I don’t know if it’s real or if I’m the messed up one for not knowing people could be so nice.” Natalie says, her voice softer as she continues to speak. Her eyes were looking straight into yours, and you wanted to explode with all the emotions going through your body. “I never went camping, by the way. I have slept outside before because my parents locked the doors. I slept outside in my trailer’s shed.”

You paused as you looked at her in sadness. “I didn’t mean to bring up something sad for you.” 

“Almost everything about me is sad compared to you,” Natalie replied, looking at your face softly. You couldn’t describe the air around you two at this moment. 

“I don’t think so.” You mumble out as you take a step back, and your back hits a tree. You keep your eyes locked onto Natalie’s for a moment as you try to think. “I think you’re one of the coolest person here.” 

Natalie smirked softly as she took a step forward. “Oh yeah? Well, I think you’re the prettiest. And the sweetest.” 

You blush at those words and shy away as if trying to understand why she would say that. 

Before you can react, Natalie’s hand cups your cheek to face her again, and she leans down to kiss you against the tree. Her other hand planted against the tree's bark and caged you into the kiss. 

You couldn’t help but let your body answer for you as your hand came to the back of her bottle blonde hair, pushing her closer to your body. 

Your body arches against the tree, and when Natalie lays a hand on your cheek and onto your left breast, a soft moan comes out of your throat out of excitement. Your body delights in her caresses as you let her tongue enter your mouth. 

Her hands softly rub against the fabric of your shirt and bra, and your nipple hardens under her touch. Her fingers knowingly pinch the tent made under her touch as she raspily chuckles, “You like me touching you like this?” 

“Y-yeah.” You stutter as you pull her into another kiss. The hot summer sun made your skin sticky as you touched each other but it didn’t stop your lust from taking over your mind. “I’ve thought about this a million times.” You say in between kisses as you feel Natalie slide her hand down from your breast over your plush stomach, to your pants button. 

Your mind went blind in confusion and passion. You didn’t understand why you two were dry-humping against a tree; nothing you had discussed before made the events happen. Nothing this morning hinted at this possibility. 

You moan loudly as Natalie pushes her hand down your pants and pushes your underwear under her fingers, her fingers gently rubbing in circles on your clit. You groan as you instinctually roll your hips against her touch.  

Natalie shushes you quietly in your ear, her hand gently goes down until her two fingers enter your greedy cunt. She thrust her fingers into you recklessly and viciously. “That’s right, good girl, take it from me.” She whispers darkly into your ear as you try to bite your lip to hold in your screams. 

Ah. Ah. Ah~ 

You couldn’t help yourself as you let your sexual frustrations completely melt away with each delicious thrust, you felt your shirt pulled up to your neck and Natalie’s needy hands recklessly grabbing your bra away from your breast. Her lips attached themselves hungrily to your hardened nipple as she owned it as she harshly sucked onto the tender flesh. 

You let out a muffled scream into your hands as you trembled under her touch, as an orgasm rips through you. Your eyes close tight as your thighs shake violently when Natalie doesn’t relent her thrusting fingers, Natalie chuckles softly as she looks up at your pleasureful face, “Good, good girl, cum on me, that’s right.” She whispers as she rubs her free hand on your thigh, touching the bare flesh in reverence. 

You pant as you slowly look down at her, and you pull her into another kiss. This one felt romantic and blissful, like you had always imagined with Natalie.

You let your hand caress down her shoulder to her chest, until you got to her pants button. You wanted to do to her what she did to you. But as your finger starts to pull her shirt from under her jean shorts, however, her hand softly pushes yours away. 

As you pull away with a smile on your lips, you notice the slight drop in Natalies. 

It made your heart drop. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask as you caress Natalie’s cheek. You leaned against the tree for a moment to support your almost jelly-like legs. 

“I, uh,” Natalie stumbles as she took a step back. She wipes her hand of you, a clear slick with a pink tint to it, on her shorts and looks at the unbuttoned fly of your pants. There was an almost panic in her eyes, “I like Travis.” she blurted out to you. Your high instantly sobering up. 

The air got sucked out of the forest. You felt like you were stabbed in the heart. You wanted to cry. 

You smile, hiding your disappointment and heartbreak as best you can in the moment, you blink slowly as you think, “I-I, uh, I know. I saw you give Travis heart eyes last time you got a deer. Don’t-” You say as you quickly try to button yourself up. “Don’t worry about it! We just got wild, it’s okay. I’m sure guys like Travis like this type of thing!” 

You wanted to vomit. This was wrong. She was supposed to like you. She just fucked you. She took your virginity, and you couldn’t help yourself from getting upset inside. You try to keep your eyes off of her so she doesn’t see how hurt you are. How much this meant to you. 

It broke your heart knowing this was just a hook-up for Natalie. A moment in the woods to forget about: she was just playing with you this whole time. 

“(y/n), I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Natalie tries to say as she comes closer to you but hesitates. 

“I’m okay! It’s all good-” you try to say without your voice breaking, but it fails as you get to the end. You wanted to sob. “I get it! You are straight and like Travis, and I am your gay friend. I’m okay with that.” 

“(y/n), I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just have gotten feelings for Travis since we started hunting and-”

You couldn’t hear another word without wanting to sob. You put on your mask as best you could. 

You straighten out your shirt and tell her with a smile, “It’s okay. I get it. Go to Travis.” You say with as much kindness as you could find. “It was just a little moment between me and you, and he doesn’t have to know. Just go hunting. It’s past noon.” You say as you try to find a way to run away from all of this. You blink a lot, and no tears appear in your dry eyes.

You knew this was going to happen. 

You knew no one really wanted you. 

“Okay…” Natalie said as she started to take a step back. She looked hurt and confused, a mix of emotions that she had caused. “I’ll be back later. See you then.” 

“See you then.” You quickly say as you immediately turn around to walk away. You felt your face twist and your body shake softly as you tried to hold back your cries. You refuse to cry anymore out here. 

It doesn’t take long for your legs to take you back to the cabin, and you feel like something is sitting on your shoulder again. Now, another is attached to your chest. 

You look over at the fire and the two pots. Akilah is cleaning the cooking pot of all the morning's soup, and you see that the period pad pot is unchanged from this morning. As you walk to the camp, a metallic, musky, Ammonia-like odor comes from the pot. 

You wanted to act like nothing had changed, like you were still the same as you were a few hours ago, “Hey, Akilah, we need to clean this pot. It’s fucking gross.” You say as you poke a stick into the pot to pick out the washing pads. You scrunched up your nose. You try to act as nonchalant as possible.

“Sorry, it was so much more heavier than this one,” Akilah says quickly as she comes over to you without a question. The underclassmen were always willing to do what you asked them to do, and you thought it had to be with how you treated them sweetly and comforted them when they cried. You felt like their older sister.

“It’s okay; take the other end, " you say as you point to the handle on the other end. You lift the hot pot from the fireplace, panting a little as you walk towards a berry bush by the cabin.

You both placed the pot over the bush and poured the red water onto the leaves. The dirt below it was wet, drinking up every drop you poured.  

“Why do we even pour this on the bushes? It just seems like extra work.” Akilah whined and panted as the two of you let the pot down for a moment. 

“It helps the berries. The iron helps it-” You pant as you start to pick it back up again, “There will be more berries because of the iron in the blood.”  

As you walk back up to the cabin, holding onto the big pot with Akiliah and looking down at your shoes in almost numbness from everything that happened, you hear Mari screaming from within the cabin. Jackie and Shauna sit at the fireplace, and Laura hangs laundry. They all turn to see the commotion. You and Akilah put the pot off to the side of the fireplace.  

“Get it off, get it off, get it off, get it off!” Mari panics as she runs out the front door. She shakes her shirt so that something can fall out of it. 

You rush over to her with all the other girls circling her. “Hey! Hang on! Hey! What's wrong!” you say to her as you help her pull up her shirt. A memory of lifting Natalie’s shirt comes to mind as you try to push it aside, ashamed, pulling out Mari’s tucked-in shirt.

“I don’t know!” Mari groans as she still twitches and writhes in spot. Akilah comes to the both of you, as does Shauna, as everyone starts to fuss over Mari. “I-I was standing under the trapdoor. But something crawled down my shirt!” 

“I don’t see anything!” You say to Mari as everyone except the hunters starts to circle in on the situation.  

“It’s fine. There’s nothing there, Mari!” Shauna tried to reassure her, with a hand on Mari’s shoulder. 

“There’s nothing there,” Akilah added to it.

Mari slowly calms down as she stares at Shauna in disbelief, “But-” 

“Must have been the ghost.” Taissa dryly stated on the porch, arms crossed and a smirk growing on her lips. 

Mari turns her head sharply at Taissa with fear on her face. You try to rub her shoulder to soothe the fear, but you look over at Taissa with sharp eyes. “Don’t say that!” Mari demanded softly, she was afraid. You know that Mari comes from a superstitious family and believes full-heartedly that the house has a spirit. 

“Wh- You guys!” Jackie comes in with a smile, an eureka face plastered on Jackie’s. She gasps as she jumps into the inner circle, “Okay, you guys, I just had a brainstorm. We should have a Seance.” 

You felt your head unconsciously shake, you didn’t want a seance. You didn’t want to feed the fears of the others and make things harder for you all, someone was already having mental health episodes daily, and you didn’t want them to get worse. But you looked up quickly to see how proud Jackie was of her idea and having a job she could do for everyone, you stopped it before anyone could see. Fuck. You thought. I’ll just do whatever Jackie wants. 

Taissa and Van laugh at first, then look at Jackie in disbelief. “That’s a terrible idea. Also, we’re not in middle school.” 

“But remember how fun this shit used to be?” Jackie offered, raising her eyebrows, because she really wanted to do the seance. “Besides, maybe if we can laugh about this, then it would help,” Jackie added. 

“The occult is no laughing matter.” Laura Lee bluntly stated, disapproving of the entire idea. 

“It’s not the occult, Laura Lee. It’s a game. Come on, Shauna, (y/n), tell them. It’ll be fun.” Jackie replies, now insisting that everyone goes along. She looks at both of you as backup, and you both crumble to the pressure of her eyes. 

“Um…” Shauna looks over at everyone and says, “Well, I mean, it’s not like we have anything better to do. And maybe this dead guy can give us some life advice.” She says as she looks over to Van and Tai. Both laugh and nod their head, “Okay.” Van relented. 

“So, it’s settled. Tonight, the attic.” She says as she points to everyone, now amused by the situation. “We make contact.” 

Everyone giggles softly except Laura Lee who looks down angrily. You rub her shoulder and say, “Can you pray for us downstairs while we do it? To protect us if that's what you believe.” 

“I will be praying for everyone’s soul,” Laura Lee says seriously as she walks away in a huff, her hands in surrender. You chuckle softly at her, and the others giggle a little harder at the seriousness of the situation. 

‘21 

Shauna: You’re never going to believe this Shauna: it’s so messed up.  Shauna: I’m a bad mom.  You: Omg what happened?  Shauna: I went to the club with Adam.  You: Why are you still talking to him? Shauna: I DON’T KNOW Shauna: I went out with him because Jeff was gone again and we ran into Callie You: NO You: NO YOU DIDNT  Shauna: yep  Shauna: She was wearing Jackie’s uniform as a costume.  You: WHAT THE FUCK!! SHAUNA!! You: I AM GOING TO GIVE HER HELL NEXT TIME I SEE HER  Shauna: She was on Molly, too.  Shauna: I don’t know what to do anymore. She’s out of control, but so am I. I am just so messed up from her wearing that uniform and brunch tomorrow.  You: I can Imagine. 

You sit on the toilet in Natalie’s hotel room, and you quickly throw away your tampon into the trash can before you flush the toilet. You wash your hands and quickly rejoin the others as they look over the folders worth of papers you had to print at Misty’s house.

You didn’t have much of a stomach to look at the autopsy photos. You wanted to cry when you read that Rosa Martinez picked up his ashes as soon as she could. His mother survived him, and there was no one to survive her. You could only think of her pain of losing everyone in her family, surviving only by memories 25 years ago. You wondered if she ever moved on; if she lived a new life after you all came back. 

“Hey guys, I am ordering Chinese food. Do you want some?” you ask as you leave the bathroom, pulling up the number on your phone. 

“Really? Right now?” Natalie asked you with a look of disbelief, she was looking at his autopsy photos. 

“Yeah, I’m starving. Misty?” 

“Steak fried rice and wonton soup, please.” Misty asked with a smile as she read over the coroner's report. His death was ruled a suicide by asphyxiation with construction equipment. The police of his country didn’t have to look too hard to see that he had changed his name, he was once a part of the yellowjacket plane crash and said that was the reason for his suicide. It was cut and dry. It was honest in your opinion.

“Okay, Natalie, you're getting the same. Are you okay with that?” You ask as you start to diel the chinese place down the road. 

“Yeah, sure.” Natalie dismissively says. 

“Well, You can save it for late when you're hungry then.” 

“Okay, mom.” Natalie sassed as she continued to look at the photos. 

You rolled your eyes as you cheerfully answered the phone. Then, you ordered everyone their food and yourself, adding egg rolls to everyone’s order. 

You smile and sit back on the bed, looking over the papers. You see, there were still more photos and reports on him in the folder. He went to a rehab clinic about 3 years ago, and he went to the hospital the past year for acute bronchitis. You decided to look at the crime scene photos instead, the ones without his body in them. 

You noticed something that raised your eyebrow. A little black smudge was on every single photo. You couldn’t turn your face away from it. It was in all of them. 

“Guys?” You say out loud as you lay out one of the photos for the two other women to see. “What’s that thing? It’s in all of them.” 

You put another photo out that was connected to the other one. 

“What, that smudge?” 

“And here,” Misty whispers beside you, looming over your body a little to look over, her finger pointing to another. “Does that look like wax?” Misty asked.

Then, Misty pulls the photos from your hands and starts to look over the landscape of the photos. She started to line them up perfectly and continued placing the images down one by one. She pulls out a sharpie and starts to connect the smudges. 

Natalie and you stand behind her just watching as Misty work her magic, and she intensely focuses as she lines the marks together. 

First, there is the circle, then a triangle, with two arms off to the side, one short on the left and the other all the way through the triangle, and then the hook at the bottom. 

You wanted to vomit. 

“This is bad.” Natalie says anxiously beside you, swaying, arms crossed. “This is so wrong. Travis didn’t believe in any of this shit.” 

You raised an eyebrow at that. You didn’t want to correct Natalie.  

“Then why is it in the place where he died?” Misty asked back blankly. 

“I don’t know, but I promise you, he did not put it there.” 

You wanted to laugh, and you knew he did. You knew Travis very well—not in your later years, but out there. You remembered his prayers and devotion, which made you want to vomit more. 

Knock! Knock! 

You felt a cold wave come over you as the knocks startled your overwhelmed body. You quickly grabbed the money in your pocket and opened the door, trying desperately not to cry, you didn’t want to see that symbol. “Thank you, keep the change.” You say as evenly as you can, but it failed, you close the door before you feel your eyes damn over. 

You turned back to Misty and said, “Sorry, I am still not ready to see that thing sometimes—uah—you know.” Your breathe gaves out as you led your hand over your racing heart. 

Your heart felt excited and terrified. 

Misty comes over to you with wide eyes, taking the food out of your hands, “Are you alright? You’re crying?” 

You didn’t realize your eyes were just rivering tears without you blinking. You haven’t felt this kind of dread since the wilderness. Unconsciously crying, your face stayed the same. Embarrassment comes over you as a rush of darkness curls in your stomach. “I-I-I don’t un-understand-” You studdered out as your breath panicked and tightened at your throat. Natalie then approaches you with a hand on your shoulder, concerned. The two of them have seen you like this before. 

A cold sweat comes over you, and your breathing is shortens more as you heave your chest; an unpleasant tingling engulfs your entire body as you tremble in the corner of the room. Your eyes were blurry from your tears as you were coughing out apologies for crying and acting crazy. 

Misty goes to her purse as you slide down the wall. You hold your chest, and Natalie stays beside you, holding your shoulder and breathing deeply into your face. Your eyes lock together as she tells you through the mental fog, “Breathe. It’s okay.” 

You breathe slowly as you look deeply into her eyes. Misty comes back with a paper lunch bag, and you are so grateful Misty was there. You start breathing in the bag and watching the bag expand with your air, calming you down slowly.

Scrrrrappppeee! Scrrrapppeee!! 

You screamed as the trees outside of Natalie's hotel room scratched the window. You push the two women away and shout. You feel hot tears burning your crazed eyes, “Stop! Stop! I don’t want to hear it!”

Laisse l'obscurité te libérer.

You wail as you hear the voice through the leaves. You have forgotten how to hear the voices in the leaves since you have been back, you knew they were in your head. 

“(Y/n)-” Natalie cupped your cheeks, trying to calm you down as you sob violently, weakening and pushing her off of you. 

“It’s talking to me! Make it stop! MAKE IT STOP!” You sob helplessly into Natalie’s hands as you fall to the floor, pressing your forehead to the ground. “I had a brain tumor- I had enough! There is nothing outside! There is nothing outside! There is nothing outside! It is not here. (y/n) stop, please-” You whisper to yourself as you pathetically cry to the ground, trying to stop the panic attack. 

Laisse l'obscurité te libérer.

The two women standing over you, both have tears from their eyes as they see you age regress. They've seen you panic like this before. They see you wail as you are now. It wasn’t pleasant to see you now as a stable, the most stable in their eyes, adult crying like a child. 

The leaves outside whistle in the wind as the tree knocks on the window. You fearfully sob in your hands on the ground. “I-I’m sorry! I don’t mean to-” 

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Natalie says behind you as she kneels down and rubs your back. She knows how much the wilderness took from you and how much all of this would weigh on you, but she doesn’t see past it. She knows you will keep pushing on even after this, but she cannot help but pity you now. She pulls you up and hugs you, and Misty quickly jumps in as well. You sob into Natalie’s neck. 

“The leaves won’t stop talking-” 

“They are just leaves. They're not saying anything.” Natalie stated that she was trying to kill the idea before it came closer to her adult life. “We’re home, and we are safe. It is going to storm, and the trees aren’t talking to you.” She sincerely says, knowing that what you experienced in the woods felt real to you. You couldn’t help but believe what you saw and heard from the others, your brain was vulnerable. It still was. 

You tremble as you hug her close, and Misty pets your hair. Misty says, “You’re safe and healthy, the trees are just moving in the wind. I promise, you're safe.” 

You wanted to vomit as you saw the tree in the window sway to the heavy wind like it was waving at you and smiling.

‘96 

Jackie, Shauna, and you all worked on decorating the unused attic to prepare for the seance. Although you didn’t want to help, you knew this meant a lot to Jackie, so you stayed by her side and helped, as you always have in your life. 

“No, no, no. Not like that.” Jackie waved her hand over to Shauna as she was placing down candles. “Put them on the marks that are already here. This symbol thing is totally seance-y.” She says as she places a candle on the mark with a little thud for dramatic effect. 

You chuckle as you shake your head, you pull up a blanket over the mirror in the back of the room. You giggle a little as you pull out some crystals your mom put in your carry-o for good luck. Your mom was really into nature and natural gems, decorating your house with them and putting them in your bags and her own. Your dad had a tigers’ eye necklace just because your mom told him to. Funny enough, you didn’t have a crystal for safe travel, but you did have one for protection so that was fair enough. You placed it in the middle of the circle. 

“Laura Lee will have a seizure if she sees this.” You joke as you look around the room, and Shauna starts to place the candles on the carved marks. 

“Isn’t this kind of, like, a waste of candles?” Shauna says to Jackie, ignoring you. You roll your eyes at the familiar feeling crawling up your back. 

“Not if we’re getting rid of a ghost.” Jackie scoffs, as she shrugs her shoulders. 

You jokingly roll your eyes, “Yeah. Shauna.” You mock as you put up little homemade charms the others made tonight to hang from the ceiling. 

Shauna softly laughs, looking down. “Yeah, whatever.” She does as Jackie says, circling the candles in the places where the craved symbol is on the floor. 

As the two finish up, you pause momentarily and ask Jackie, “Isn’t it a little creepy that we will be in the middle where the mummy was?” 

“Yeah, but it just adds to the ambiance. Come on, you guys can’t seriously believe there is a ghost in here?” Jackie asked as she stood up, dusting off her hands. “If there was a ghost in here, he’s long gone. He died in here a long time ago, he would have gotten bored of the cabin.” 

You chuckle and shake your head, “I am scared. I don’t like messing with this stuff you know.” 

“What? Because one time, the Ouija board spelled out your mom’s name.” 

“Yeah, and 4 months later she got cancer!” you defended and you pointed to Jackie. You then look up jokingly to add, “Well, she had cancer a long time before that so it doesn’t matter! The board is creepy!” 

Jackie rolled her eyes and said to you sarcastically, “Can you just call people up here to do the damn thing.” 

You chuckle and nod, heading to the door. You call down the attic steps that it is about to begin if anyone wants to talk to the dead guy. Laura Lee bitterly states that she will be reading her Bible downstairs, and if anyone wants to read with her, it only makes more people come up the stairs, except Taissa and Javi. 

Almost everyone comes upstairs, smiling at you as you greet them at the door. Even Natalie eventually comes up. When she comes up the steps, you smile at her with a blush coming to your cheeks. 

When your smile meets her eyes, she looks away sharply. Then, she moves away from the stairs, you, as quickly as possible. 

You felt a dagger stabbed you in the heart again. 

You shouldn’t have told her your feelings. 

You shouldn’t have let her hand down your pants. 

“You didn’t have anything better to do. And it felt good.“ you thought as you sat down next to Lottie and behind the standing Shauna. You saw Natalie from across the way next to Travis and bitterly thought, “If I’m nothing to you, you’re nothing to me either, asshole.” 

Lottie looks at you with a serious face and softly touches your arm. “It’s going to be okay. We might be able to ask him to leave.” 

“What?” You snap your head back at Lottie. Then, everyone starts to sit down in a circle.  

“You look nervous? Your scared about the ghosts?” Lottie questions as she rubs her hand on your thigh comfortingly.

A memory of Natalie caressing your thigh comes to you as you put your hand on hers to stop it. You hold Lottie's hand for a moment and joke, “If I jump, catch me okay.” 

“Okay.” Lottie chuckles as she looks at your hand, holding hers for a moment before letting go of each other. Jackie starts the seance. 

“O keeper of this wild and hidden place…” Jackie chants as she swirls her finger in the reddish brown paste and puts her finger on Shauna's forehead. Shauna stood still with a blindfold over her eyes and the butcher knife tied to a long shoelace to act as a pendulum. “We anoint ourselves with blood and earth,” Jackie added, putting a small cross on Shauna's forehead.

She walked away to hand the small bowl to Travis, “Here.” 

He doesn’t take it for a second as he stares at her nonchalantly, you roll your eyes deeply at his presence. You were in competition with him?

“It’s just dirt and deer blood. Classic witch recipe. Relax.” 

She smiled as he took it, sitting next to him with a big smile. She raised her arms to the ceiling and said, “O spirit, we offer our sister as your instrument. Come to us and speak your peace.” 

“It is I,” Shauna states, in a mocking deeper voice, “Jacques.” 

Everyone fell into a stifled giggle at her voice. Shauna clears her voice and repeats, “Jacque.” Everyone laughs harder this time to Jackie dropping her arms defected, “Ask your questions. The pendulum will answer them.” 

“Okay,” Van says and she hands you the bowl. You look down at the tiny bowl with a small grimace as you dip your finger in it and put a cross on your forehead, passing it to Lottie. Van clears her throat and says, “Dear dead hunter guy… did O.J. do it?” 

You laugh as everyone around you giggles as well, Jackie sighs across the circle and says, “Come on, guys, real questions.” 

“The veil is thin between our two planes. Ask what is in your heart.” 

“I’ll go.” Mari smiles across the way, she holds her hands on her knees as she leans forward, “Is Principal Berzonsky screwing Ms. Dewine?” 

You giggle again, feeling in good spirits again and forgetting about the whole Natalie situation, you look forward to the pendulum, and you see it lean towards yes, with Van letting out a little oh. 

“It is certain.” Shauna snickers, holding on to the deep voice. Everyone giggles loudly as we hear the amazing gossip. 

“Okay! Hunter guy, if we hadn’t crashed, would we have won nationals?” Alilah asks, excited with a smile on her lips, your eyes look back to the pendulum with a smile. It leans towards no, and everyone's boos and giggles come from your throat. 

“I don’t believe that!” you bravely stated as you asked, “Now, is our math teacher Mr. Mattz really a pervert for marrying his young wife?”

The pendulum moves quickly and sharply towards yes to your question, it made you shake back with a laugh everyone did as you continued, “So is it true she was once his student!” 

It moves back to the center and back to yes sharply again. Everyone erupted in laughter, and you felt yourself fall back onto Lottie a little bit, with tears coming to your eyes. “Of course he is!” You cackle, and everyone continues with the laughs. 

“Is Frenchie Deveto’s boobs fake?” Marlissa asks with a big blushing giggling grin. 

Natalie chuckled and shook her head. You felt a lull in your happiness while she spoke. “They’re obviously fake. Do you really need a ghost to tell you that?” Natalie asked Marlissa as Javi came up the steps. 

You looked away from Natalie to smile at him, which he bashfully shared. Javi sat down next to Natalie and Travis. He was a sweet kid who didn’t talk much, and you always tried to be sweet to him. 

“You think?” Mari agreed from across the way. “But who would’ve paid for them? Her parents?” 

“I think they got divorced recently. It could have been guilt money.” 

“Well, that’s just creepy.” Mari looked at Van in disbelief, and you and Lottie shared a look of humor.

“Your mom and I are splitting up, but don’t worry,” Van mocks a man's voice as she cups her breasts for effect, “‘cause your tits are gonna look amazing!” 

Everyone giggles as Van jokes. The pendulum does not move, and it hasn’t since everyone has been joking. Taissa comes up to the attic as Jackie waves her hands around to say, “Guys, guys, okay, focus. Next question.” 

Misty raises her hand, and Jackie smiles at her. You smile softly, and Misty politely and shyly wants to participate. “Misty?” Jackie asks. 

Misty nervously chuckles and pushes her glasses up. " Um...” She takes a deep breath to calm down. “Dear spirit, I need to know the truth.” Her brown eyes look at you once before nervously shooting back to the ground. “Does the person I like like me back?” 

There was a silence caused by pursed lips and trying not to laugh at her, and you couldn’t help but feel pity for Misty. Coach Ben will never like her, and it is clear that she lusts over his every move. It was sad. Jakie rests her chin on her fist and says, “Awh.” 

You wanted to laugh loudly at her little comment but bit your lip. You see Taissa sitting in the chair in the corner, the mummy’s chair, and you take a little longer look at her. Her eyes seem lost for a moment as she clunches the arms of the chair tightly. 

The pendulum moves towards yes, and Van looks down at it unimpressed, “Okay.”

Travis whistles for Misty, and Natalie slaps his chest in response with a smile on her lips. You wanted to scream. Everyone giggles softly as Misty excitedly takes in the news. “Yes, Misty!” Mari cheers for Misty with a smile, and everyone seems to be actually happy for her a little bit. 

“Okay, next question.” Jackie says softly with a smile.

Javi raises his hand with a sad look, and you feel something coming.  Jackie’s nods and says, “yeah?”

“Are we all going to die out here?” He asks gloomly. He was dead serious.

The lightness in the room was sucked with that question. You look over at him with concerned eyes, “Why ask that, Javi? We’re doing okay, that is too dark.” You say quickly as you see the pendulum move a little bit. You felt like a mom hiding the grim reality from their kids. You didn’t want the answer to that. You ask loudly before anyone else can speak, “The better question is, Is anyone looking for us?” 

The pendulum sharply points towards yes. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but as we started to look at Javi again for asking such a depressing question, it started to move towards no, then back to yes, as if in a trance, quickly going back and forth. It was shape like an 8.

You feel pressure at the back of your head, and you look behind you quickly towards the window. Nothing was there. You were getting paranoid.

“Okay, an eight? What’s that supposed to mean?” Van asks grumbly, as she hugs her knees towards her chest. She was also getting scared. 

“It’s not an eight; it’s an infinity.” Lottie corrected as she looked down at the knife. She looked behind herself too as she also felt the pressure like you just felt, you turn your head, too, on instinct.

“Yeah, okay, Aristotle.” Van snipped back to her best friend, frustration building from fear. 

There was nothing but the trees outside. You were about to turn your head back as Lottie let out a bloodcurdling scream.

BOOM!

The window flings open from the outside, slamming against the wall of the attic, blowing out every single candle at once. You scream in response as Shauna drops to the floor in fear, she pulls her blindfold off, as you step back into her, “What the hell!” You scream as everyone in the room yelps and screams in terror. 

“Who has the matches?” Jackie panickingly asked the group as she crawled forward. Lottie continues to scream at the top of her lungs. Everyone started to yelp in fear.

Taissa had run cover to close the window behind the two of you.

You come over to Lottie and say shakingly, “It’s okay, there was nothing out there!” 

Lottie hyperventilates in your arms as she stares down at the ground in an intense trance. Spit is dripping from her open, panting mouth as her palms press against the wooden floor.

“It’s okay!” You try again and rub Lottie back. Van comes over to you two as she also rubs Lottie’s back, “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Guys, something’s really wrong with her.” 

Lottie sobs violently as she grabs the side of her head, she doesn’t blink as she cries, her mouth curling with primal groans. 

“I-I don’t think she-” Akilah comes over to look at Lottie and tries to calm her down. 

“It wants… It wants…” Lottie sobs as she starts to curl her lip like an animal. 

“Misty, what do we do?” Van sternly asks the blonde in the corner, wanting answers on how to fix this. 

You stare at Lottie blankly as you don’t know what to do. You just listen to her, “What does it want?” 

“IT WANTS!” Lottie yells back as her body starts to tremble under your touch, a layer of sweat lining her face. 

“Lottie, I swear to god, if you are fucking with us!” Mari cries as she slowly crawls away. She is horrified. Marlissa and Gen stare beside her in fear. You wanted to rush over to the underclassmen and hug them, make them stop crying. Lottie’s thrashing and screaming made you look back to her.

Her once brown eyes stare into your in a reddish crazed haze. Something like a giggle and sob comes out of her throat as she stares at your face. A pained smile spreading on her pink lips.

“I think she’s, like, possessed,” Akilah says as she tries to hold Lottie's face to see if she is biting her tongue. 

“Listen, Lottie, Lottie, Sweetie-” Shauna tries to lure Lottie back to reality, kneeling in front of the girl. “What’s going on? What is ‘it’?” Shauna asks her with her face right next to Lotties. 

Lottie groans in pain as her tears rush down. She shakes more as Shauna presses, “More like, what does 'it' want?” 

“Hungry.” Lottie sobbed as she stared down to the ground. You followed her eyes, and she was staring at a symbol. “Hungry,” she whispers. She seems to tire for a moment, but she starts to giggle. You freeze at this moment, locked in your own fear. You knew it. This wasn’t fake. Lottie’s eyes looked a little red in the moonlight, like Taissa’s the night before. Lottie shushes the air, as she grabs ahold of your arm. She slowly looks up at your body until her brown eyes into yours, “it’s in you already.” She says as her neck cranes back to Shauna, like she was answering Shauna and not you.

You shake in fear as you look into her eyes.

Something is in her.

Something wasn’t right here.

“Lottie, Knock it off. This isn’t a game.” Taissa hissed, not believing in what was happening. 

Lotties eyes look back up to Taissa’s as she whispers, “Il voulait du sang. Il veut toujours du sang, Il veut plus de sang.” 

“Is that French?” Marlissa asks the group, pale. 

Lottie would have failed French without your notes. You don’t understand. You had the best grade in class, yet you couldn’t speak French like she could in this moment.

This wasn’t right. 

“Il voulait du sang. Il veut toujours du sang, Il veut plus de sang.” 

“Since when has Lottie ever spoke French?” Natalie asks the group as she stays away from the situation. 

“Jackie-(y/n), W-wasn’t she in your class?” Shauna asks both of you, her head snapping from you back to Jackie. 

Jackie panics, her arms out in surrender,  “Yeah, but she sucks at French.” 

“Well, what is she saying?!” Mari asks with a hiss to Jackie. 

“It wants blood, always wants blood. It wants more blood.” You try to translate as you try to single out all the other voices besides Lottie chanting one. You just let Lottie’s hand squeeze your one so hard your bones were touching more than they should.

“Il veut plus de sang. Il voulait plus de sang. Le sang coule ici. Ici, ici, il faut…"

“Always wants blood. Something flows. It must… here? Here?” You say with your eyebrows furrowing together tightly in confusion.

 “Il voulait plus de sang. Le sang coule ici. Ici, ici, il faut… ”

“Blood flows free here? Here, here, it must—" You tried to understand what she was saying as she abruptly stood up, circling her spot until she saw the window.

She approached the window with a mission: “Ici, ici, il faut… ” Lottie whispered as she gently touched the cold glass.

“There’s blood where Lottie?” Van asks, she follows Lottie closely behind. 

“You really have to be encouraging her, Van?” Taissa asks from across the way, deadpan. 

Van points a finger at Taissa to shut her up, snapping her head back to Lottie, “Blood here, or out there?” 

“le sang féminin nourrit les baies et les nourrit.offrez-lui ce qu'il veut et il se nourrira. tous se nourriront. Ici, ici, il faut!” She whispers as she presses her sweaty palm on the glass. 

You can’t bring yourself to say it to the others. You don’t believe what Lottie was saying. The idea you all have been giving offering to some spirit for weeks without knowing disturbed you. “Here. In here.” You say and pause in disgust—your periods. 

Lottie turns her head slowly towards you, making eye contact, her eyes wild and complete detached from Lottie, “Laissez les ténèbres vous libérer. Laissez le sang couler et il ne vous décevra jamais. Il a seulement faim comme nous, laissez-le vous consumer. Oui, Oui!” She whispers softly as her eyes twist in contern, she shushes the air as she comes back to the window. “Écouter… Écouter…” she lets the tips of her fingers touch the window. 

You ask her, your lip trembling and your eyes filling with tears, everyone watching on with terror, “I am listening. What darkness are you talking about? You don’t make sense! What’s hungry!? The woods?”

Her breath rasps as she looks into the glass, focusing on the wild outside, she whimpers, “You must spill blood. Or else…” 

“Or else what, Lottie?” Jackie asks still frozen to the ground. Lottie only pants louder as she doesn’t move from her spot, looking out the window. “Lottie, what are you-” 

“Laisse l'obscurité te libérer.” Lottie whispers as she suddenly slams her head into the thin glass with a disgusting crack. Van, Akilah, and yourself coming up behind her quickly. Blood trickles down Lottie's forehead as she wails out to the girls, almost like a child to its mother. Lottie touches her bleed forehead in confusion as she falls to the floor taking the other girls with her. 

A roaring thumping up the stairs could be heard as Laura Lee stormed inside the attic. Her face was stoic and serious, and she held her Bible. She was over whatever the hell happened tonight. 

“The power of Christ compels you! Begone, Satan!” Laura Lee desperately yells as she holds up her bible to the groaning Lottie. “The power of Christ compels you!” 

Lottie countries to wail and groan on the ground demonically as Laura Lee’s eyes panic, “Lottie! Lottie, stop!” She demands that she throw the heavy leather-bound bible onto Lottie’s lap. 

Lottie yelps as her eyes widen in shock. Her face regains color within seconds, and she takes a few breaths. “Ow!” She whines as she looks up at Laura Lee in shock and confusion, blood dripping down her cheek dramatically. “What the hell, Laura Lee?” 

Everyone stared at the girl in the center. The only sound was people panting, and a relief was washing over everyone. 

“Seriously?” Mari demanded Lottie, angry and starting to believe it was all made up. “What the motherfuck just happened?” 

Laura Lee doesn’t move as she watches Lottie, completely amazed by her abilities and believing god worked his magic through her as a vessel. Lottie’s face twists in confusion as she lifts her finger to feel the dripping sensation from her nose, she panics a little at the sight of blood.

You wanted to vomit.

“Lottie, do you even remember what just happened? Are you okay?” You ask as you come over to the girl with soft eyes.

You completely believe her just from her eyes. She really thought something had come over her. There was no way she could speak French like that. There was no way Lottie would shove her face into the glass. 

“No- I- Why am I bleeding?” Lottie asked, confused as she continued to touch her nose. You look over to the others to silently say to them something you couldn’t figure out. Lottie has gone too far into her delusions.

You hug her shoulder and say as you rub her arms, “Come on, let's get you cleaned up, you hurt yourself. Let's get you to bed.”

You anxiously lay down in your makeshift bed sandwiched between Shauna and Jackie. You felt your eyes stare at the ceiling unnerved to even close your eyes, you held your blanket up to your chin as she listened in on the conversation in the corner. You knew everyone was too scared to go to sleep.

“Do we think it’s still up there?” Akilah nervously asks the group, and she plays with her fingers as she looks down. 

Taissa, who was lying just off your left, sprang up and hissed, annoyed, “You all need to stop. There is nothing up there. Lottie has been acting weird for weeks.” 

Everyone was silent as you looked around. Then, you saw Van nervously watching over Lottie, her best friend, and Akilah nervously sitting up doing the same. Lottie was deep asleep on her pillow, curled up, with a small wrap around her head from her head wound. Everyone nervously lay down in her bed and tried to act like they weren’t listening. 

“Fine!” Taissa says, standing to her feet and taking her pillow and blanket with her. She grabbed her backpack and slung it behind her shoulder,  “I’ll prove it.” 

“You’re going to sleep up there?” Akilah asks Taissa in disbelief. 

“That’s right. Who’s with me?” Taissa states that she turns back to see that no one is following suit with her. Everyone was still scared from earlier. 

Laura Lee started whispering a prayer louder in her bed. She was praying for all our souls and for protection from darkness in these woods. Van shakes her head quietly and looks down as she continues to watch over Lottie. 

“Fine. More room for me, then.” Taissa sassed as she walked through the floor littered with bodies in their bed. She walked to the cabinet with the ladder to the attic. 

No one moved for a moment as she left the room. No one had the courage to come with her; no one was as fearless as Taissa. You felt a pang of guilt come over you as you felt you were partly to blame for everyone's freakout. 

Shauna sat up and looked towards the ladder. She whispered to the two of you, “We should go up there with her.” 

“In the attic? No frickin’ way!” Jackie says with no hesitation. She shakes her head as she lies on her pillows. 

“Well, she shouldn’t be up there alone. I mean if it weren’t for us-”

“Shauna, whatever happened tonight was not because of our dumb seance.” 

“But everyone is so freaked out because we wanted to do it.” You added as you played with your cuticles and started to pick them. Your stomach growls. 

“Okay but-” 

“If you want to sleep up there, fine, be my guest. I’m staying down here.” Jackie stated that she had finished the conversation with the three of you and that you all would stay with her. You felt so much guilt for staying, and now you didn’t want to upset Jackie. 

Jackie then huffily turns to her side away from both you and Shauna. You stay still for a moment as Shauna lays back down. 

You both just lay down in the shared bed for another 10 minutes before you turn your head to look at Shauna. She was already looking at you and when your eyes met, you decided you would leave at that moment. 

You stand up and say to Jackie, “I can’t leave her up there, I don’t want to make anyone worry. I promise I will come back down here tomorrow, but I can’t leave Taissa up there.” You say as you grab your pillow, Shauna is already leaving the maze of beds to the attic. You follow behind as best you can until you climb up the ladder. You see Taissa curled up in her pillow with her blanket up to her chin in fear. She sits up when she sees the two of you. 

“We were just going to keep you company,” Shauana says to the two of you as you both stand in the doorway. “If that's okay?” 

“We couldn’t let you sleep alone up here.” You add as you walk closer to the laying girl.

Taissa stays quiet for a moment as he puts your thick foam, taken from a plane seat next to hers. You smile at her softly as you lay down a blanket and pillow. You start to lie down with your fuzzy blanket dragged over your legs. Shauna follows suit and puts hers next to yours. 

Everyone sits down momentarily and takes a breath, taking in the situation in the dark attic. You are only lying 5 feet away from the man who took his life. It wasn’t a good feeling up these stairs, but you didn’t care. 

“How far along are you?” Taissa whispers into the air, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. You felt your eyebrow raise as you turned your head to look at the two other girls, you knew she wasn’t talking to you but what was she even saying? Shauna’s eyes widen just a little as she slowly turns her head to Taissa, and your heart drops to your stomach. 

Oh, no. 

The two look at each other for a moment as you watch on. You realize quickly that Shauna and Taissa’s conversation, but you have no context,  was happening because they trusted you with this information as much as each other. You were the moderator. You keep quiet as you nervously look over Shauna's body. “You are pregnant, right?” Taissa asks again gently, looking over Shauna. 

Shauna blinks slowly as if she is finally accepting the fact, she whispers, “You guys won’t tell anyone… Will you?” 

Taissa shakes her head immediately with a quick, “No. I won’t.” 

You reach your hand over Taissa's body to touch Shauna’s shoulder, “Nothing for us to tell. That’s only if you're okay with it.” You reassure her in a whisper. You rub her shoulder as you feel your eyes sprinkle with tears. A mix of emotions was coming over you for your childhood best friend. You were excited to see her baby and to be an aunt as you always dreamed of becoming for her kids and her to your own one day, but you felt dread at the thought of a baby growing inside of her. You were hungry tonight, and you were sure Shauna was too. 

Taissa whispers as she looks at you, and your eyes meet quickly to exchange worry and stress about the situation. “But if we’re stuck out here long enough, I have a feeling it’ll come out one way or another.” 

You felt yourself nod a little at her words, agreeing all the way. But you couldn’t shake the want to comfort Shauna at this moment with her eyes fearful and nervous at Taissa’s words, “That’s not for tonight.” You say softly to Taissa as you rub your hand on Shauna’s shoulder, “She’s not showing now, and a lot can change in time. People are looking for us, and I am sure Shauna will get to a hospital before anything happens.” You try to reassure her. 

You look at Shauna fully now. Tears well in her eyes, and she is worried, and you feel like you are a mirror to her. But at this moment, you want to give her some peace. 

“You’re having a baby?!” You excitedly whisper to Shauna with a smile, a tear rolls down your cheek, and a chuckle comes to your throat. You didn’t even know Shauna wasn’t a virgin anymore, you didn’t know who the father was, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that. At this moment, you assume that this was something you missed while taking care of your mom, and you will get more details on who the father was later. For now, all you could care about was Shauna and their baby. 

Shauna’s worry falls away for a moment at someone reacting positively to the pregnancy, the only one to have it, and she tries to smile back. A chuckle comes out of her mouth as she wipes a fat tear from her eye. “Yeah. I think I am.” 

“That’s amazing!” You say with a wide grin, tears falling. You giggle again, uncontrolled. Taissa, below you, chuckles, too, feeling the excitement that you are holding. “That is great news, maybe not out here, but Jesus Shipmen, we’re having a baby!” You whisper as you run your arm down Shauna’s arm to her hand, holding her hand tightly. 

Shauna starts to cry as you congratulate her fully. You know she wasn’t happy, and this wasn’t what she wanted, but she needed support. You hold her hand, and Taissa puts a hand on Shauna’s head. “We’ll be here for you no matter what. We’ll keep it a secret. We’ll do whatever we can for you and the baby, Shauna!" you add to the attic's darkness. 

The three of you hug on the attic floor as Shauna softly cries into both of your chests, you and Taissa try to calm her down until the three of you fall asleep, exhausted from the day you had. 

‘21

You try to forget about the night you had last night as you read over more editors' notes for the 10th chapter of your novel. It was slow work to comb through every paragraph, every sentence, every word to make sure it all made sense. It had foreshadowing but was not too oblivious. It had depth without being melodramatic. It was tiring, but you kept going. There were another 22 chapters in your novel to go through, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care that it was grueling. 

You needed to have this sent and done for printing by the end of August for it to be realized by October, and you needed to look normal and mentally prepare for a press conference. You needed to promote the book before it came out for presales. They need you to talk about the smut and the angst that will excite the long-time readers. 

You’ve done this circus before. Nothing was new. You knew what questions were going to be sent your way. You used a pen name as your name, and you have aged 25 years since the crash, so most people don’t talk about that anymore. Most don’t even know you were a part of the yellowjackets. They just thought you were a hermit romance author who doesn’t do a lot of interviews. But, you remember at your first convention where someone asked if you had eaten people and if you used your experience to write your vampire series. They were taken out by security, you saved face every well by tearing up, and the questions were sent away from you. It’s been years since then and now you mostly get lonely people asking questions about your characters like they were real people. You happily indulge because it's the reason you became a writer. 

Your phone vibrates, and it is Natalie. Your heart skipped a beat. 

You answer, “Hey, what's up? Before you say anything, I just want to say sorry-”

“You’re sorry about last night?” Natalie interrupted you with a chuckle. No, don’t be. Please come over. We have something important going on, and I trust you the most.” 

Your eyes widen, “You do? Thank you, okay, what's wrong?”

“You have to come over, I called Shauna over too. It’s an emergency.” 

You pale a little bit at the thought of your friends contacting each other without using you as the messenger. “Okay, coming as soon as I can.”

“Can’t wait.” Natalie snarky replies as she hangs up the phone. 

You click save on your document and get out of your chair. You had no more meetings today or any reports to look over for your story, you just have to edit. You grab your purse and fling it over your shoulder as you anxiously leave your house. 

When you got to Natalie’s hotel, you noticed that Misty's white minivan wasn’t there but another expensive white Tesla beside Natalie’s black Porsche. It made your eyebrow raise as you didn’t know anyone who would have such an expensive car, but you were happy to get there before Shauna did to ask if Natalie could downplay how much you have been in contact. You know Shauan will be wrathful upon knowing you were hanging out with other people, especially Natalie and Misty, behind her back. 

You knock softly on the door and hear Natalie talking to someone. You smile when she opens the door. Natalie lets you into the room and acts like the night before never happened. You feel grateful until you turn to look at Taissa standing in the kitchenette. 

You stood still as you looked at her. You haven’t seen her since 2006. Your phone, which you had been using to call the other girls, was in your purse because of her. You didn’t know what to think. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi, (y/n). You look nice.” Taissa smiled, then looked at you nervously. She knew she wasn’t who you wanted to see. Your history with her was a little too personal after the rescue, and it didn’t end pretty. You bit your tongue as you looked at her expensive outfit. 

“Thank you, you too. You look like you’re already a senator.” You say back, with a smile of your own back at her. Trying to keep it short and sweet with her. Your eyes look down gently to the table where the photos from last night were tapped together to keep the written symbol in one piece. “Oh, god, why is it still here?”

“You know about this?” Taissa asked as she looked down at the table. “Did you get a text from the blackmailer?” 

You snap your head in shock towards Taissa with wide eyes, “Blackmailer? What are you talking about?” 

Taissa showed you her phone and the top text was “Gather 50k cash and await further instructions. Do NOT discuss this with your teammates - I WILL KNOW.” and an emoji version of the symbol. 

You felt pale as you stared at the screen. 

How could someone know anything and blackmail you? 

The only people to know what happened out there were you guys or dead. 

“Did you get the same text?” Natalie asked as she came from behind. 

“No.” You confess as you hand Taissa her phone again, your hands go to open your purse, “Did you call Misty?” 

“That conniving, poodle-haired, little fucking freak doesn’t need to know anything. Keep Misty out of it, okay.” Natalie said as she pointed a finger at you. You pulled out your cigarette bag and pulled out a cigarette. “She told Shauna Travis died! She didn’t even tell Taissa or tell us she told Shauna.”

You roll your eyes as you place a cigarette in your mouth, You look over to the women and say, “Okay, fine, do you guys want a cigarette? I need a fucking cigarette.” 

Taissa comes to you with her hand out. You hand her one stick, light your end off, look at Tai, and then light hers. 

“Hope you know, you’re getting a cleaning bill after your stay here Natalie.” You say as you blow the smoke out the window beside the table. You knew this was a no-smoking hotel, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the room. 

“I don’t fucking care. Where the fuck is Shauna?” Natalie stressed as she peeks out the window beside you. 

Translation for Amis de l'autre côté

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