#oc: flaring mind

[worldruins]

Burying all that with shitty OC sketches that I will tag in the morning. Good night!

[zombie-art-n-doodles]

Flare doodle dump. It’s funny to think at one point I actively detested drawing this maniac and now he’s one of my favourite characters to draw.

-

Oh btw the second drawing is him in his 2020 ‘Flare 1.0 design’ outfit, which you can see below.

[sugaredparchment]

i love creating aus for my works because sometimes it's chill and normal and sometimes I can go "oh this universe would have an entirely different timeline! :>"

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook can’t sleep, and he can’t stop kissing you either.

> fluff, suggestive / word count: 2.6k

> content/warnings: alexa play seven by jungkook! mentions of s^x, lots and lots of cutie kisses :( they’re in that afterglow <3 oc’s chest is his pillow :(

> in which masterlist!

note: hi hi. here’s ur slice of pure self indulgent fluff 🍰 i just had to write abt this jk :P there’s a reference to in which you always get what you want and jungkook is dying to kiss you 🥹 reblogs & feedback are vv appreciated. i’d love to hear ur thoughts so feel free to scream or laugh or cry <3

—

a fleeting white light passes through your closed eyelids, nearly blinding, as you hear the familiar shutter of your boyfriend’s polaroid camera.

“jungkook,” you whimper weakly due to the sudden disturbance, burying your face on the soft pillows while pushing the camera away.

“shit, shit- sorry, baby-” he winces, guilty of disrupting your journey to slumber, as he scrambles to fix his mistake. “forgot to turn off the flash.”

he places the polaroid face down on the space behind him to give it the time to develop the photo he had taken. much to your relief, the bedroom falls silent once more except for the quiet humming and breathing of the airconditioner. you return to properly laying your head on the pillow, taking a small gasp of oxygen, and jungkook smiles because of how adorable you are for still refusing to open your eyes.

“can i take more pictures?”

“did you turn it off?” you whisper as you stretch your legs to find a more comfortable position, unwittingly pulling down the comforter and exposing your nakedness to the cool air. this gives rise to goosebumps on your skin, causing you to shiver, but your boyfriend is quick to your rescue. he catches the hem before it could slide past your skimpy shorts.

“i did.”

a chaste kiss is planted on your shoulder before it is returned underneath the warmth of soft layers of cotton and fabric.

you sigh, melting back into relaxation. “okay.”

he re-anchors his elbow into the mattress, resting his head on his palm to admire the majestic view of you. jungkook likes this a lot, he lives for it— lying on the bed face-to-face with his sated lover, spending the rest of the night feeling like his heart is not a big enough vessel to hold all the love he has for you. the lights he is yet to turn off have splashed the dark room with a red glow that engulfs your figure as well, escalating his heartbeat, so hypnotic and tantalizing, he finds himself breathing heavier and heavier behind the viewfinder, or maybe he has stopped breathing at all. the shutter briefly fills the silence.

this is… the arch of your back is burned in his mind and he swears he still tastes you on his tongue, but seeing you like this feels so different.

he was consumed by his pleasure and yours just half an hour ago, admittedly almost blinded by his own sweat dripping from his forehead because he simply couldn’t stop wanting more of you, giving himself to you. you weren’t exactly innocent either, with your provocative touches and coquettish smiles, whispering lewd words that was gasoline to the lust flaring up inside of him. he revels in seeing that you’re just as desperate for it as he is, if not more, purely from the way you beseech him with your eyes mirroring stained glass windows. he knows you love it when he fucks you so good it brings you to tears, welcoming the delightful intensity of his nature, and that you were also trying to tire him out so he’d finally feel sleepy, but holy shit, looking at you right now, he wants nothing more but to hold you with utmost gentleness.

wildly concentrated with his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth, he brushes away the hair that fell on your face before capturing another exquisite memory to be burned into film.

jungkook is greedy when it comes to you.

a disgruntled whine slips from your mouth when the pillow underneath your head is replaced by his thick arm, which is then rudely cut off by his lips crashing on yours.

clearly, you’ve grown too comfortable in this relationship.

“i love you.” he drunkenly mutters, instantly going for another kiss and barely finishing his another- “i love you.” before he’s kissing you again.

“babe-” you chuckle then gasp, holding on to his wrist as his tattooed hand loosely wraps around your neck.

“i love you. i love you, i love y- i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you.” he repeats himself over and over, the volume of his voice gradually getting quieter as he runs out of breath, until his tongue becomes tied. grounded by the feeling of your steady pulse beneath his thumb, he silences himself by tenderly kissing you, soft lips molding with yours for a wordless declaration of devotion this time around.

pure static— there are no thoughts running in your head. your limbs feel numb but tingly. you feel like you’re floating- no, you’re falling. the bed has turned into an abyss and you’re falling endlessly and jungkook holding you close is the only thing that makes sense. you might have to consider this true heaven, nothingness with your everything, when the whole world is lights-out and quiet that it feels like time has been suspended, and the only way to keep track of it is through each pump of your heart.

at last, your eyelids slowly flutter open as he pulls away, and he greets you with that boyish grin. “pretty.”

his hand on your neck moves to stroke your face lovingly, eyes glimmering with various emotions as they wander your features.

“____ is so, so pretty.”

“hm, really?” you hum sleepily, leaning closer to his touch. “thanks to you.”

“me?” his doe eyes widen in confusion.

“you know, for the afterglow. i feel nice.” you giggle brightly at your own half-joke, positively out of your goddamn mind as you hide your warm face on his shoulder.

“ahhh- ah!”

enlightenment then dawns on your boyfriend.

his giggles blend in with yours for a harmony that strikes the same joy as the sound of wind chimes on a windy day.

jungkook tries not to appear too cocky about the compliment, but consequences be damned, he would die satisfying his lover.

“oh yeah, baby? do you now?” there’s a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face when you take a peek at him, which then morphs into a grin when your eyes meet. “i feel nice, too.”

“nice?” your voice comes out delicate, droopy eyes asking him for confirmation.

“nice.”

he feels a tug at his heartstrings.

“you know what? fucking great… i could never have enough of you.”

it becomes silent for a while. his tattooed hand slides under the comforter, letting his fingers skim across the side of your waist, feather-light touches on your bare skin before he’s pulling you closer to his body.

“i… i don’t doubt that feelings like this can only grow as time goes on but… it’s still amazing that when i think about it, even until now, all the time, i want to be with you.”

he involuntarily breathes out a shaky sigh, ears going red as they do when he’s expressing sincerity from the deepest parts of his soul.

“really, how do you do this…? what is this magic? why- why do i like you so much? i mean, i know why! of course! but, wow!” he squeezes his eyes shut to express his disbelief, clicking his head to the side. “it’s possible for it to be this much? do you get what i’m saying? i just have thoughts like that— love is so fascinating.”

you barely process his words with your brain still in a haze of bliss, but it’s funny, hearing these questions from the same man who has the entire world madly obsessed with him.

oh, this actually sounds familiar. he’s getting all sentimental and philosophical. again. and he’s not drunk. were you that good tonight?

“i won’t give away my secrets just like that. what if you use them on someone else?” you tease him, rubbing your tired eyes and shaking your head as you giggle.

you receive a dirty look from him, clearly offended and uninterested in the thought of putting in the hard effort to impress someone that isn’t you.

“aish, stop talking! i don’t like hearing you talk in that way.”

“then what else am i supposed to do? you’re the one who woke me up.” you retort in annoyance.

but you honestly don’t think there’s any secret to tell. jungkook is in love with you. plain and simple.

“you’re right, i’m sorry. go back to sleep if you want to.”

he dips down to plant gentle pecks on your shoulder, going down on a trail to your neck, and you unconsciously tilt your head to his convenience because he’s bringing the butterflies in your stomach back to life. it feels good, everything he does always feels good.

“you’re seriously not done?” you mumble against his lips, unfaltering with the kisses as if he would run out of them any minute now.

he stubbornly answers with a “no!” as his lips ghost over your cheek.

if only bam was here, jungkook would eventually leave you alone to rest. he would pester him with his late-night burst of affection instead while talking shit about you to your child because you dodged his kiss in your sleep.

“babe, you’re supposed to sleep. you have work later.”

“no, i don’t want to sleep. i… i want to kiss you- baby.” he protests as he continues to pepper your face with kisses, giving your body a particularly tight squeeze when he searches for your lips again.

you blink at him in confusion when he suddenly sends you a look of irritation, eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring.

“you haven’t even said ‘i love you’ back yet.”

“oh, i haven’t?” you wince innocently. “sorry. i love you.”

but he should be the one apologizing to you, since it’s his fault that you still can’t think straight, or walk for that matter.

you pat around the mattress behind his back until you stumble upon the camera, and it’s jungkook’s turn to be your beloved muse. you scoot away until the lens manage to capture him down to his shirtless abdomen. you watch him in complete awe behind the viewfinder. he squints at you, raising his eyebrows flirtatiously, and he smirks when you chuckle in amusement.

“ah wait- take this! take this! you have to take a good one, got it? i worked so hard on them yesterday!” he eagerly voices out a special demand.

he shuffles to flex his arm infront of the camera, showing off his well-defined triceps and biceps while releasing rich, throaty grunts. totally unnecessary, but so achingly jungkook.

your boyfriend is outrageously, ridiculously sexy— he’s still wearing that stupid black headband he hastily put on in the middle of sex because he got pissed off at his hair and he needed it out of the way so he could ‘properly see his love’s beautiful body.’

you roll your eyes inside your head.

what a fucking tease.

nonetheless, you acquiesce.

the flash goes off.

and another polaroid is crafted into existence that you selfishly want to keep for your eyes only.

“baby, let me see.”

“it’s mine!” you scrunch your nose with a childlike charm, hiding the polaroid behind your back.

he chuckles, hopelessly endeared by you.

“yes, i’m yours.” he coos in response.

and your unguarded heart is once again swept away by the taste of his tongue. the camera becomes an abandoned item. your fingers daintily pushes off his headband in favor of freely tangling them with his silky hair, and it also ends up getting lost somewhere in the sheets as his sweet kisses lull you in a false sense of security… because out of nowhere, that same blazing light burns through your closed eyes for the second time tonight.

jungkook playfully waves the polaroid infront of your face, and his toothy grin is met by your unimpressed expression.

“this is mine!”

he has been waiting to jump into this type of opportunity, to orchestrate a romantic moment to be stolen in film— you can tell by the sparkles in his eyes. reminiscent of that one late night in a tiny photobooth where your younger and clueless selves were cramped in, this is what you and his hyungs often talk about, how much you share the same fondness for the fact that jungkook hasn’t changed at all.

“just how many pictures of you kissing me do you need?” you ask him lightheartedly.

he juts out his bottom lip sullenly, and a few beats pass before he forms an answer. “i always need more for when i miss you.”

you copy his frown. “then what about me when i’m missing you too?”

“hmmm… i want you to always remember me like this, baby.” he melodramatically declares as he picks up the one and only polaroid you’ve taken of him tonight. “can you see my abs too…? oh- it’s not showing yet.”

he looks back at you shyly with a laugh, and he places it back down to let it continue developing.

“i’ll look later. i can’t even keep my eyes open anymore. ‘m so tired.” you sadly sniffle to gain his pity, fluttering your damp eyelashes at him. “let’s go to sleep, please?”

jungkook doesn’t find it in himself to articulate a consolation or protest, not when you’re tugging him down to coax him into laying his head on your chest.

“heaven.” he moans, overcome by contentment.

he adjusts himself a bit to be more comfortable before dragging the comforter further upwards to provide warmth for the two of you, all the while refusing to remove his face nuzzled up against you.

“why are you always like this? can you even breathe?” you chuckle with your eyes closed.

“i love your boobs.” his honest reply comes out muffled, cute for some reason, along with his satisfied hums prompted by your nails lightly scratching his scalp.

“i know.”

he turns his head to the side to look up at you, and he carries on to speak with his cheek squished against you. “i really, really mean it.”

“yes, baby. i believe you.”

a minute of silence passes. the ecstasy still flooding your veins becomes a stepping stone in the pond towards your dreamland, where all is either fantastically perfect or horrifically fucked up.

but then you feel sloppy kisses being deliberately scattered in the middle of your chest, leading down to your stomach, and you get rudely knocked over into the cold, clear waters.

yes, plea- oh no, no, no, no.

“jungkook, baby, stop. i can’t go another round.” you whine pathetically, being driven closer to the urge to burst into tears.

“AH! o-ow- ouch- baby, wha- i swear, i wasn’t even planning on it!” he loudly exclaims in surprise when you harshly pull him away by his hair.

“still…” your voice cracks. “you know i’ll get turned on!”

his chuckles are infuriatingly raspy and of no help at all, ego inflating upon hearing your response and the frustration obviously laced with it.

“okay, okay! i’m sorry! i’ll behave now!”

thank god.

he assumes his previous position, the place that he deems to be the warmest and the coziest. as he wraps his arms around your waist, your fist relaxes into an open palm that cradles the back of his head.

“____?” he mumbles, finally feeling the tiredness seep into his sore muscles now that he’s lying motionless.

“hmm?”

“let’s eat dinner outside after work.”

“…meat?”

“and beer!” he adds, brimming with excitement, and he salivates as he can almost taste them in his mouth already. they are his favorite, after all.

“i’ll come pick you up then.” you drop a kiss on his forehead, and he sighs happily. “but go to sleep or else i’ll kick you out of the bedroom again.”

his sweet embrace becomes an iron grip.

cold and alone, he swears those were some of the worst three hours of his life.

he squeaks in defeat. “goodnight, baby.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[rainbowrosegames]

This is so cool :O

Distort3d minds. Part 12/17

To be clear! Fresh doesn't need anyone else to make another parasite. he just needs enough energy. since he's usually just slowly eating magic, he just wouldn't be able to usually. but since he took so much magic from Error that's why Static kinda glitchy like him. and in Fresh mind he wouldn't of gotten enough energy without Error letting him keep him as a host so long. so technically Static is both their kid but also not. As for him having Static unintentionally, that's just plot contrivance not gonna lie lmao! Also the reason Flare can't kill Static is because they basically eat the magic right as it makes contact.

Also this part is considered the start of chapter 2.

First – Precious – Next {Master post.}

[invincibledc]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝑯𝑶𝑲𝑼𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑲𝑼𝑺.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

────୨ৎ────

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐎𝐂) 𝐗 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐒!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

── .✦ Synopsis: son of joker and Harley, Jacklyn “Jack” Quinn, has a crush on a simple bat. But the bat is tired of his hocus pocus.

── .✦ Genre: idk but I thought of this, could just be short story or whatever.

── .✦ Info: this is an OC I thought of cause I got bored. Reader is the twin sister of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically in my head and anything. Boy’s crazy but handsome. Yea the title is inspired by ICP. I love ICP.

Laughter rang out across the abandoned warehouse. A teenaged boy with gun pointed it to a hostage, the hostage sobbed. Getting ready to aim, a batarang hits the gun from his. “Ouch! WHO in the god blazing mind had the audacity to…”

The boy turned to see a girl in her robin outfit of her own design, the suit fitted her well. The boy couldn’t help but smile, seeing her again just made him feel giddy.

“Suga'! I see you foiled my plans again to get my father’s approval. What can I help you with darlin'?” The boy says walking forward to the girl before another batarang harshly impales the ground infront of his feet.

“Jack Quinn. You have no business trying to bring me out here.”

Jack pouts hearing the girl’s voice. “But puddin'” “I’m not pudding. I’m robin.” Jack rolls his eyes at the girl’s words before aiming the gun at her and firing it.

Y/n leaps from the shot as the shot was just a flare. “Okay, so you were right. I did bring you out here. But I can’t help but adore how you are with me!” With a crazed look, he rushed after the girl who gracefully hopped ledge for Ledge. Whilst the two mid teenagers were doing their things, the male robin, Damian appeared and started to untie the hostage.

“Why must we attract villains so much.” Damian scoffs lowly so the person wouldn’t hear. He wasn’t expecting to clean up his twin sister’s mess of attracting boys. But this was another case.

Back to y/n and the boy joker.

“Oh! Birdy, you’re so cute when you run!” He chased after the girl. The girl scoffs as she turned a sharp corner, but came to a stop when the clown boy hopped over a bunch of boxes and landed in front of her.

“You could give thanks to my mama, did you know ima momma’s boy.” He pulls three sharp cards out, one held an ace, a diamond, and a king.

“But suga' im just a king of all above a momma’s boy.” Jack said with a sickly sweet tone. He threw the king card at her, the king care glowed. Y/n’s eyes widen realizing and pulled her cape up.

Thanks to Bruce, her cape was made to protect her from anything. Explosive wise. As y/n put her cape down, there she see the clown boy running up to her before doing a cartwheel.

Y/n moved back, dodging a swift roundhouse kick. “What’s up with you!” She exclaimed, bouncing strikes with her hands from Jack. “What’s up with me?!” He exclaimed back before giving her a crooked smile, y/n put her hands up. But jack had other ideas than boxing with the young girl.

He grabbed the girl’s hands. Tugging her close, chest to chest. Y/n tried to pull away, but the boy was oddly strong despite looking thin. Jack started to make the both of them waltz, y/n gritting her teeth, eyes narrowed showing clearly of her domino mask.

“Don’t be such a sour puss.” Jack says rolling his eyes as he turned y/n around. “I got a joke to sweeten you up!”

“Say, Why don’t people like working with vampire bats? Because they’re a pain in the neck.”

Silence reeked into the air, jack frowns, “Aw cmon not even a giggle?” He was soon hit with a knee to his gut. Y/n moved back, not before sweeping him onto the ground. Landing with a grunt, jack opened his eyes just for him to be picked up by his collar.

He couldn’t help but stare at y/n’s face, “did anyone ever tell you, you look stunning in red?”

“Shut up, jack. I’m taking you in, and then we’ll take your parents in.” Y/n says, ready to zip tie his hands. Jack was oddly calm as he puts his hands out.

“Be gentle, I can’t risk my wrists being bruised.”

“Whatever.” Y/n goes into her belt of her suit, looking down. As she looked up, expect of the boy, there stood a rose with a note.

Y/n scrunched her nose up, grabbing the rose and damned note only for it to read.

“Next time, show up alone. Your brother is such a cock blocker!” Y/n crumpled up the piece of paper. A little fluster but mostly angry that the boy had gotten away. She didn’t expect for him to also realize she brought Damian along.

And said boy came by her, crossed arms and disappoint written on his face. “You really are like father. Always attracting villains to your whim.”

“Shut up. Let’s just go home…” y/n says, throwing the piece of paper behind her back. She hid the rose behind her back. Not letting Damian see it as he raises a brow.

“Keep your crazed boyfriend in control.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

A/N: I REALLY HOPE THIS WASNT BAD! I TRIED TO GIVE HIM A FULL MIXTURE OF JOKER’S AND HARLEY’S PERSONALITY😭😭

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part V

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

Warnings: toxic!p, language, sexual themes, themes of cheating etc

Wordcount: 5.8k

A/N: WE ARE BACK! no smut in this one sorry ik you love it but i think this a bit of a turning point in the fic :) again pls send me feedback and live reactions! it's the best part of writing this series ANYWAY GO READ ty for everything you guys do

-

We’re both sweaty, my skin sticking to hers as we try and catch our breaths - that fourth round had really done us in. If it hadn’t been for me, I’m sure the blonde next to me would’ve gone for fifth. That damn athlete’s stamina. This had become a daily routine the past week, ever since our sleepover.

“You stayin’ over, right?” Paige asks, hand in my hair brushing through it gently. I consider it, the idea of falling asleep in her arms, getting to wake up being held tight by her warming me, but in the back of my mind there’s something gnawing at me. I’m pretty sure I had something to do tonight. Oh right. Jay. Shit.

Clumsily climbing out of bed and pulling on my clothes with urgency makes Paige let out a confused chuckle as she sits up, watching me closely. “Damn ma, chill, you can go if you want.”

“No, I just-” I mumble through my red knitted sweater, pulling it over my head. “I was supposed to see Jay.” In fact Jay had insisted we celebrate because it’s been exactly a month since we started seeing each other. I didn’t really get it. Maybe if we were actually dating, and even then just after one month felt… Excessive to me. But she had insisted.

Paige goes uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, a hint of something unfamiliar on her face as I pull up my flared yoga pants. I check myself in the mirror, mascara smudged over undereyes, lipstick all over my face and my perfectly styled blowout matted at the back - I looked completely fucked out. The hickey on my collarbone, and the smell of Paige’s cologne on my clothes didn’t help my case.

“Paigeee!” I groan at the reflection staring back at me, scrunching my face as I force my long brown locks into a high ponytail, but the blonde sitting behind me on her purple comforter remains quiet, eyes low and face stoic. It’s so unlike her I turn around, tightening my pony as I watch her concerned. “P?”

She finally lifts her gaze from the corner of her room to meet my face, smiling weakly. I could tell something was off, and it made my stomach stir. Before I can ask Paige leans her head against the wall behind her, looking to the ceiling and taking a deep breath.

“You sure you can’t stay?”

It sounds vulnerable, almost pleading if I didn’t know better. For a moment I waver, but instead I brush it off, turning back to the mirror and fixing my makeup while Paige watches on the bed.

“Nah, she wanted to celebrate our one month… Something,” I murmur, reapplying the maroon lipstick.

A deep sigh from Paige fills the room as she fidgets with her hands before bringing them up to her jaw, rubbing it.

“Why are you with her?”

“Huh?” I ask, turning to her but she won’t meet my gaze.

“You heard me, why are you with her?”

I’m baffled, astonished by the question. A blush rising to my cheeks I suddenly feel defensive for some reason - mostly because there was no good reason. Jay was nice enough and I liked her company. Sometimes. But at least I knew for certain she would never do what Paige had done to me in the past. Never.

“Because she’s good to me! How’s that any of your business anyway?” my voice rises as I ask, my arms crossing but Paige is quick to get up and walk over to me, pulling me into a hug.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you right,” she quickly lets out, rubbing up and down my back and the anger immediately subsides. “Stupid question, sorry.” She sounds almost scared. I had never heard her sound like that. Trying to understand what it meant made my mind turn to mush so I focus on the way she kisses my forehead and holds my face, our eyes meeting.

“Thursday then? After my game?” Paige suggests, now kissing my neck, making me forget all about who was waiting for me. My eyes flutter shut as I hum, trying to answer.

“I can’t,” I murmur, Paige’s lips doing their best work as her teeth nibble my earlobe making me hiss. “Me and Jay are gonna come watch you play,” I admit breathlessly, making her pull away from me.

“Seriously?” She asks, brows furrowed in annoyance. I shrug, unsure why she was so upset.

“I’ve been beggin’ for you to come see me play and nothin’? But for Justine…?”

“It’s her birthday! I promised I’d do what she wanted!” I argue, my voice rising the tiniest bit once more.

Paige looks at the ground and shakes her head frustrated, breathing heavy through her mouth. I couldn’t help but feel a little bad, I never in a million years thought she cared this much about me seeing her play. I didn’t even care about going with Jay. Honestly, I just wanted to see Paige in her element. I loved listening to her talk about ball, the way her eyes sparkled with knowledge and passion. She might be a piece of shit and an asshole but I really admired her resilience and ambition. If Paige was anything it was incredibly focused and dedicated. Sometimes to her own fault, I thought.

“Besides I bet Claire or-”

“Clara.”

“Right, Clara, will be there to watch you play!” Her name tastes sour in my mouth.

“I don’ care about her, want you watchin’ me!”

“Well I will be watchin’ you!”

“With Justine!” Paige groans with a roll of her eyes, her hands waving around as she speaks. I watch her bewildered when it hits me. She’s jealous. Paige Bueckers is jealous.

“You’re jealous?” slips from my mouth with a confused scoff, making Paige freeze. She looks at me for a moment, debating, then shaking her head.

“No. I just- I don’ wanna talk about it, I don’t wanna fight,” she sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her fingers. There’s a hint of defeat in her voice which makes me waver. My annoyance and confusion slip away as I watch the way her blue eyes soften. 

“Let’s not fight Val, please.”

“Okay,” I hum and let her pull me into a hug. As her nose buries into my hair, for a second I think she’s smelling it, inhaling carefully - but I must be mistaken. She had never done that before.

“P I gotta go,” I murmur against her chest, not wanting to but knowing Jay was growing more and more suspicious as time passed. Frankly, we still weren’t exclusive so none of this was technically cheating. Still, I hadn’t told her. I had convinced myself that eventually I would. I just don’t know when.

“I’ll walk you,” she whispers, making me chuckle.

“Yeah that wouldn’t be sus at all huh?”

Paige grins, looking down at me. “Just tell her we’re fucking around.”

With a furrow of my brows I shake my head. “Nah.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Paige is smirking smugly now, staring into me. “Oh because then you’d have to tell her how I fuck you better than she do?”

I blush and roll my eyes. I wasn’t about to admit she was right.

Pushing her off me, I grab my bag from the floor and give her one last glance. She reaches her hand to my jaw and holds it, pressing a tender kiss to my lips making my heart flutter for a second.

“Text me when you’re there ma,” she murmurs against my lips before letting go and opening her door for me.

“I will.”

Waving bye to Jana and Allie too who I’d become friendly with this last week, I walk out of the dorm into the chilly evening, February still forcing me to wear my white puffer jacket. I wrap it around me tightly as I hurry towards Jay’s dorm, trying not to think myself to the grave over Paige’s behaviour  - loving, caring, a different Paige than I knew last fall. I almost wish she was the same as she used to be, the careless player who didn’t let me sleep over or get to know her roommates. Because now I had what I had always wanted from her. Except it wasn’t a dream come true. It was terrifying. My heart wanted to give in, to let myself feel. But I was horrified of what she could do again, how she might hurt me this time.

I’m still in my thoughts when I reach Jay’s door, knocking on it urgently. Before I can even lower my hand, she opens the door, a frown on her face.

“You’re late.” she says, letting me in nevertheless. The room is lit with candles, homemade dinner gone cold on the plates and a bouquet of flowers in a vase - my heart sinks. Not because I missed out on what Jay had planned, but because I didn’t want this. Not from her. I felt like a piece of shit for thinking that this was way too much. But it’s true. 

“Fuck Jay, I’m so sorry. I got caught up at Ted’s. I didn’t know a Tuesday night would be this busy,” I chuckle trying to lighten the mood, seeing a teddy bear with a big red bowtie sitting on the couch, giving me the creeps.

“Whatever Val,” she sighs, clearing the plates away. I watch, not sure what to say.

“Your roommates, where-”

Jay turns to me, tears in her eyes. “I paid them both to be out tonight, to make tonight special. But you didn’t even come.”

“I’m here now!” I say, walking over and grabbing her hands. I never knew what to do when someone cried, I wasn’t the consoling type, I was the advice type. My friends didn’t come to me to be comforted, they came to me to know what to do next. I always had a plan. But this was way out of my comfort zone. I hated when girls cried because of me.

“Look, I’m sorry, it was so busy. I didn’t even realise I was late,” I lie, looking straight into her blue eyes. It’s hard, I don’t like it, but the words slip from my lips more easily than I thought. 

Jay pouts and nods, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It’s not your fault just… next time call.” Her voice is weak. I really felt like an asshole. I had to end it with Paige, I knew I did. I just simply couldn’t. My heart didn’t let me for some reason.

“Okay, I’m sorry Jay. C’mere.” I pull her into a kiss, but it feels wrong, icky almost. She kisses me back though, her hands wrapping around my waist. I catch a whiff of Paige’s cologne on my sweater.

“Let’s order pizza, okay?” I ask against her lips, not wanting to open my eyes and face reality, the tugging of my heartstrings. I felt like I was being ripped apart, stuck between crossroads. I could feel myself falling for Paige. I knew it by the way my heart ached when we said goodbye, the way my eyes were constantly looking for her in a crowd. I was falling for her, yes. But the moment I admitted that the fear would come roaring in, like a tide, ready to bury everything underneath it. She had so many tools to hurt me, so many that she was unaware of. God if she knew how I felt I’m sure I’d never heard from her again. It would ruin everything. Being with Jay was good, secure, the right thing to do. Even if I didn’t feel half as much for her, my heart didn’t flutter for her - at least she couldn’t break it either.

-

Be you. Be great.

I watch the text from my dad flash on my screen, sitting in front of my cubby, legs bouncing nervously. I already knew we’d win today - we weren’t playing anyone special. An attitude Geno would surely smack the back of my head for, but it’s simply true. It wasn’t the upcoming game making my finger tap nervously against the back of my phone, it was the text I had typed out, my finger hovering over the send button, making my stomach flutter.

Miss u Val

“Yo warmups!” KK snaps me out of my trance, my finger accidentally pressing down on the send button. Shit. Now Valerie was gonna know I miss her. 

Sure it had only been a couple days since she was last in my arms, but being away from her made my heart ache. Usually the more I saw a girl the less I wanted to see her. Valerie, however, seemed to have the opposite effect. I couldn’t get enough. Guess it had something to do with the “feelings” I had for her.

“Shit you scared me,” I chuckle, my cheeks turning red as I hide the screen which KK does not miss. She grins at me, elbowing my shoulder teasingly.

“You texting Valerie?”

“Yooo,” I roll my eyes but don’t deny it, a sly smile forming on my face. Raising my brows and scratching the back of my head I look at the shorter girl standing in front of me. “She’s comin’ to watch tonight.”

“Oh forreal?”

“With Justine,” I scoff, standing up to join KK in heading in for the warmups, my jersey on, hidden underneath the warmup clothes. She snorts and shakes her head.

“Crazy work to name a child that,” She laughs.

Nodding, I snort a little. “That’s what I’m sayin’ like.” I might joke, but Justine was the one getting to bring Valerie to a game. Not me. I would take a stupid name like that too if it meant I got to do that.

“You jealous?” KK asks, noticing the way my teeth grind together. I quickly shake my head, not very convincingly, but flexing a little to make up for it. “Nah, I’m the ultimate rizzler remember? Nothin’ to worry ‘bout.”

Truthfully? I was a little worried. Taking a deep breath I try to push that feeling away as we enter the court, the seats slowly filling as the crowd makes their way in.

“Bro just tell her how you feel,” KK murmurs as we both stretch, watching some of the girls running around the court.

Her words make me scoff, how naive. “It’s not that simple,” my voice is stern. No one seemed to understand the pressure I was under, not even my best friend. To even suggest something like that felt insane. I couldn’t tell Valerie. Not with a natty on the line, not with all this pressure. 

Besides, what then? She feels the same and we date? I’d make a shit girlfriend, I know it. I was too selfish, an asshole. I wasn’t girlfriend material. Not for anyone as special, as precious as my Valerie. All she did was complicate things. Even now, my head was spinning with the thought of her. As if I don’t have to be at my best, have my head in the game in like an hour. God, I need to get a grip. Maybe I deserved to lose today. I was unfocused, a disappointment.

“Girl you’re an idiot,” KK sighs as we jog up and down the court. My eyes are immediately looking over the student section when her golden brown hair glimmers in the light like a beacon just for me to find her. She’s sitting in the third row, legs crossed in a mini denim skirt, much too short for the weather outside. An oversized black sweater reveals her left shoulder and collarbone, the mark I had left visible to everyone. Bold. I suppose Jay must have thought it was her doing. Boy if she knew. Part of me wanted everyone to know she’s mine. Only she wasn’t.

It’s not just Valerie’s hair, but the gold dangling on her wrist as she brushes her hair back, the rings decorating her fingers and the earrings contrasting against her dark locks that make the whole place shimmer, all because of her. I simply can’t look away. My twisted fantasies of having some sort of ownership over the brunette is quickly interrupted when Justine’s hand wraps around her shoulders and I notice the blonde girl, kissing Valerie’s cheek. My Valerie’s. I nearly trip over my feet, making KK laugh out loud - her laughter echoing around the court, taunting me.

-

���Guys what the hell is wrong with you, we should be up by 20 at this point against a school like this? That was the worst offense I’ve seen in my who-”

Geno’s scolding is ear-piercing as I sit in the dressing room next to the other girls, my elbows leaving red marks on my thighs as I lean against them and wipe the sweat dripping down my neck. My chest heaves as Geno takes turns chewing off each of us, dreading for my own turn.

We were only leading by four pathetic points, and had to struggle even for that. It was all my fault, I already knew. I didn’t need Geno or anyone to tell me that. I was unfocused, making bad decisions, causing turnovers - I even missed a free throw for the sole reason that just moments before I had seen Jay’s lips pressing into Valerie’s. God, just the thought was making me feel sick.

“Paige,” Geno’s stern voice snaps me out of it, my eyes lifting to meet his. But all he does is shake his head, and it’s even worse than him yelling at me. I wanted him to cuss me out, anything else.  “You know,” he simply says and I nod. I did know.

At least now I had the confirmation of everything I had suspected all along. A girl was nothing but a disturbance, a hitch in my plans. I can’t believe I had let myself do this, get distracted because of some girl. A classic fool. And I was about to make a fool out of my whole team too.

Once Geno leaves and gives us some time before the third quarter, I check my phone, my repentant thoughts quickly subsiding when I see the texts.

i miss you too p

fuck you look hot in that jersey

okay biceps you looking swole? when have you had time to hit the gym that much

wish i could come spend the night

My heart flutters, all of it is flattering sure. But it’s the first and last message that get me to take deep breaths. She misses me. She wants to spend the night with me. The weight on my chest eases up.

U should come over after

i can’t

promised jay

Fuck Justine 

Just come up w sumn

you really miss me that bad?

So fucking bad baby

Going to ted’s after the game

ok i’ll figure something out

Something about the texting and the adrenaline from the game made me bolder, more honest.

Valerie?

yeah?

U look gorgous

Gorjes

gorgeous?

Shut up it’s hard to spell :(

student athlete who

Gotta go warm up

paige?

Yeah?

go kill em

-

It’s hard to miss the moment the Huskies walk in, all in a big group in their navy blue Uconn trackies laughing and hyping up the blonde in the middle, whose face is scrunched up as she tells them to chill. I knew Paige well enough that she didn’t mean any of that, she loved the limelight.

All of the second half of the game Paige had been glowing on the court, completely unguardable, the star I always knew she was. With her help the Huskies had won with a 20 point lead despite the rough first half. I could’ve watched her forever. Every shot, every pass, every block had me on my toes, and I swear I was always the first one to jump to my feet to cheer for her. I forgot about the crowd, even Jay next to me. On the court it might as well just have been Paige Bueckers, I wouldn’t have noticed the difference.

“Babe, tell Alex I’m right!” Jay interrupts my thoughts, forcing my eyes to snap from Paige to her sitting around a table with some of her friends, a red partyhat on her head for the birthday celebration.

I blink stupidly, having missed the whole conversation.

“Shots for everyone!!” I hear Paige yell behind me, forcing a crooked smile to grow on my face.

“Uh sorry I couldn’t hear you,” I admit, glancing over my shoulder hoping the tall blonde would notice me eyeing her. She was too busy leaning over the bar, clearly eager for the drinks.

Jay giggles and presses a wet kiss on my forehead. “You’re so cute,” she murmurs. I nearly vomit. 

Suddenly claustrophobic from her closeness, I brush Jay’s hand away. “I need another drink.”

“But you still have some-”

I quickly down the rest of my vodka soda, before standing up and taking quick steps in my boots towards the group of really, really tall girls surrounding Paige, flutters in my stomach growing with each step.

“Valerie!” KK is the first to notice me and wrap an arm around me. The sound of my name makes Paige’s head snap towards my direction, the smile on her face only growing wider when she sees me. Without thinking and before I can stop her, Paige is wrapping her hands around my waist and spinning me in the air, giggling, her head on my shoulder.

“Oh my God put me down!” My command is not cogent, the chuckles making me less convincing. Paige obeys anyway and lets me go, both of us glancing towards the table where Jay is sitting, still immersed in conversation with her friends. Feeling bold, Paige’s hand rapidly slides down my back to my ass, groping it harshly before letting go. The fact that Jay could see only makes me want her to do it again. Maybe I should see a therapist.

“Val I know you’re not working but can you make the Shirleys pleaaaase,” the blonde in front of me begs, her pleading blue eyes almost getting to me. “They’re fire.”

“No! I’m a free woman tonight!” I proclaim, leaning my elbows against the bar. Paige does the same, her side pressing into mine sending jolts all over me. 

“Fine, whatchu drinkin’ ma?” she asks. “Vodka soda?”

“With crush-”

“Crushed lime, I know.”

Paige orders the drink, paying for it without making it a big deal in any way. I always found her smoothness so incredibly sexy. Right now as she stood there, elbows on the bar, chewing on her bottom lip, shower fresh and beaming from the win, I swear I had never felt so attracted to her. It wasn’t just pure lust, but something else too. Something more.

“That third quarter,” I start, the praise immediately causing a smirk to grow on the blonde’s face.

“Yeah? You watched me?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

I smile too, looking down to my feet. “You were born to do that.”

When our eyes meet again there’s a hint of something vulnerable and genuine in Paige’s expression. All the other noise seems to quiet down, leaving us in our own bubble, just us two. It bursts quickly when I feel a hand wrap around my waist. I know who it is before I even look, evident by the pure annoyance on Paige’s face.

“Hey babe are you fangirling over here?” She jokes, kissing my cheek. I pull away a little but Jay’s a few too many drinks in to notice.

Paige quickly smiles and shakes her head, sipping her drink. “Nah, I was. She makes the best dirty Shirley around, trust.”

I stare into her blue eyes, secretly enjoying this little game we were playing. Tiptoeing the line between strangers and something more.

“Yeah she insisted on getting me a drink for all the times she’s been yelling into my ear to play Drake,” I tease back, my mind immediately going to the many nights Paige had made her way behind the bar, one time even getting on her knees on the disgusting, sticky floor and begging me to let her play a few songs. From the smirk on her face, I know Paige is thinking the same.

Jay’s eyebrows shoot up watching us, clearly surprised. “Hm. No one told me you two know each other that well.”

“I mean we don’t, I just know she works here,” Paige quickly corrects, her brows furrowing as she points to me. “Your name’s uh… Vivien?”

“Valerie.”

Paige and me both smirk a little, Jay missing it completely. 

“Riiight sorry,” Paige grins, sipping her drink and turning to the blonde next to me. “Sick hat.” She’s being sarcastic.

“Thanks man, it’s my birthday,” Jay answers, a little flustered at the attention she was getting from the girl in front of us.

“Damn, happy birthday,” Paige says politely, patting Jay’s shoulder in a manner only I knew was condescending. 

Excusing herself, Paige leaves me and the blonde girl by the bar, every cell in my body screaming to follow her.

“Paige Bueckers just wished me happy birthday,” Jay says in awe.

-

The girl whose waist I’m holding, kissing my neck might as well not exist - I barely notice her. My stare is locked on Valerie and Justine, giggling and dancing in the corner of the packed bar. They look happy. 

A pang of guilt washes over me momentarily. Here’s Justine who, yeah sure is short, but really seems to like Valerie, takes good care of her. And maybe Valerie would learn to be happy with her if I just let her. The nauseating images of them adopting a dog together, getting married, raising children and growing old with each other flash through my mind. It’s enough to cause a tremble in my lower lip, my eyes welling up. The ache in my chest was trying to tell me something I wasn’t ready to admit.

“Can we go back to yours?” Clara hums, her teeth nibbling on my earlobe when a single tear rolls down my right cheek. I quickly wipe it off, my eyes finally turning to the girl next to me. To my relief she’s too busy trying to turn me on to notice my red eyes.

“Not now Clara,” I murmur, my voice barely audible over the music and chatter.

The girl’s face scrunches up in annoyance as I push her off me, gently but with a firm hand.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been like this all night, it’s like I’m not even here.”

“Not now.” I rub the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes and trying to take calming breaths.

“If you don’t want me he-”

“I don’t want you here Clara, I didn’t even ask you to come.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence between us, the girl next to me staring at me with wide eyes, hurt written all over her face. I wasn’t strong enough to fight how I felt anymore. It was time to face my feelings, even if it scared me.

“This is over, okay?” I admit, my gaze meeting Clara’s. She blinks at me slowly, processing. I feel like I should say something, explain myself. But nothing I could say would make it better so I stay quiet.

In silence, I watch Clara hop down from the bar stool and look at me one more time.

“My friends were right about you.”

With that she leaves Ted’s and relief washes over me. I grab my phone, and type out a text.

I’m sorry but I can’t see u anymore, just got too much going on

I copy and paste it, sending the words to each girl on my roster, not bothering to wait for any responses before deleting their numbers. Zoe, Jenny, Sofia, all gone. It was almost exhilarating, the way my body worked before my brain could catch up. Glancing to the opposite corner of the bar I finally catch Valerie’s eye. I nod my head towards the bathrooms before heading in myself. She’s quick to follow, leaving Justine behind. It was time to be brave, the kind of person who deserved Valerie.

The bathrooms are tiny, both of us making the space more cramped when I let Valerie in, locking the door behind us. Before she can say anything, her big brown eyes blinking at me, I’m kissing her. Not with any other agenda except aching to feel her lips on mine. My left hand cups her face, right hand holding her body close to me by her waist. Hungry for more, my tongue slips between her lips.

“Paige…” Valerie’s voice is soft against my lips, her breathing heavy as her hands hold my hips. 

“Shh,” I hum, my hands gently brushing through her hair as my kisses turn from hungry to loving, our lips slowing down in their dance. After a while we both pull away breathless, our foreheads resting against one another. Before my brain catches up, the words spill from my mouth.

“Leave her.”

Valerie’s brown eyes widen as she leans her head back to look at me.

“I- huh?” 

I swallow, thinking about doubling down for an instant. No. This needs to be it. Be brave Paige.

“Justine. Leave her.” There’s a hint of anxiety in my trembling voice, but the way I stare at the brunette girl in front of me lets her know I’m serious. Her expression is hard to read, the cramped space muffling the sounds of the world outside. In this moment it’s just us. Frankly, I had no idea what I was doing. I might really screw us up now. Lose her forever. But I didn’t have any fight left in me. It was bound to happen.

“Why?” she asks, her dark brows furrowing a little.

I scoff lightly, taking her hands in mine.

“Why? You know why.”

From the way Valerie blinks at me confirms that she did know - this wasn’t just sleeping around anymore, this had gone beyond. We both knew.

My thumbs smooth over the soft skin of her petite hands, the red polish decorating her nails, the chunky gold rings cool against my fingertips. I was trying to be patient, giving her time to process. But the pounding in my chest was making me lightheaded, the anxiety making my cheeks turn red. I felt vulnerable, exposed, terrified. Yet, I don’t speak or hurry her.

“No, stop it.”

Before I realise what’s happening, Valerie pulls her hands away from me, her eyes full of suspicion. My stomach stirs as she reaches for the door but I stop her.

“No, wait, please Val,” I plead, hand on the door handle.

“I can’t do this again,” Valerie cries out, her eyes filling with tears. I reach to wipe them away but she moves back from me. It breaks my heart.

“No ma, ‘s not like that this time. I left Clara, I left all of ‘em. Fuck all of ‘em ok? I don’t want ‘em!” My voice is desperate, chasing the brunette’s brown eyes as she avoids my gaze. 

“I need some air,” she murmurs, unlocking the door. However she doesn’t get far before bumping into Justine’s chest, standing right outside the bathroom eyeing both of us.

All three of us go silent as the blonde girl stares dumbfounded. 

“What the fuck is going on?” She slurs, alcohol evident in her voice.

“Jay I-” Valerie starts but Justine is quick to flip around and take hurried steps towards the exit. I follow the brunette out of Ted’s, the parking lot quiet on a rainy night.

“Jay, please wait! Let me explain!” Valerie pleads, grabbing Justine’s hand but she pushes her away, forcing the brunette to stumble back a little. My fingers flex with anger as I step between the two girls.

“Whoa, yo nuh uh,” I say sternly, shaking my head at Justine who’s looking at me like she might actually jump me. I wasn’t worried, I could take her. “Don’t touch her.”

The blonde scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You can’t tell me not to touch my girl!”

Her girl? I feel anger rising from my gut, heat ascending to my neck and cheeks. I step into her space, looking down at her as I do. 

“Don’t you get it?” I chuckle, an arrogant smirk on my face, basking in the way she had to tilt her head up to look at me. “Val’s not your girl.”

“Paige-” Valerie’s voice is careful behind me, her hand gently reaching for my forearm.

“You wanna know why she been too tired to come over? Because she’s been in my bed, getting fucked like she deserv-”

“PAIGE!”

Valerie pulls me back by my arm, her eyes wide and furious as she looks up at me. The adrenaline was making me bold, I wanted the world to know she’s mine. No one else’s. My Valerie.

“Fuck you both.” Justine slurs, heading back inside the bar, clearly not the fighting type. Deep deep down I wish she had jumped me just so I had the excuse to punch her at least once for calling Valerie her girl.

The brunette lets go of me and scoffs, shaking her head as she starts walking away from me. Suddenly coming to my senses, I follow behind her apologetically.

“Ma, wait.”

“Paige what are you doing?” She cries out, a desperate frustration evident in the way she speaks as she turns to look at me.

I step into her space, hands itching to touch her. Better not. Not right now. Biting my lower lip I sigh and shake my head.

“Sorry it just pissed me off hearing her-”

She’s not listening but profusely shaking her head, eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t understand you, I don’t get what you want from me!” She bursts out. My hands come to hold her shoulders, taking it as a good sign when she lets me.

“I want you Val,” I finally admit. Not just to her but to myself.

“But what does that even mean?!” She’s clearly frustrated, tired of the confusing cat and mouse game we’d been playing since we met. I was tired too.

“Look ma, I’m done with all the other girls, and you’re done with Justine. I dunno what that means but-”

“But what? We date? Become girlfriends? Then what?” She spews. I rub my forehead and eyes with my hand, feeling my head spinning. Maybe I hadn’t thought this through.

“Maybe-”

“Until you find the next girl you wanna fuck? Or freak out again?”

“No Val not this time-”

“How do you know?” She asks, a hint of desperation in her voice, looking for any sign that this was a risk worth taking.

“I uh,” I mumble, my skin turning hot, bringing my hands behind my head, rubbing my hair, trying to soothe myself.

“How do you know, Paige?!” Valerie screams, her big brown eyes pleading with me for a reason. Before my brain could catch up my mouth’s already forming the words. The words I had not had the time to admit to myself yet - that feeling that had been gnawing at me for weeks now. The twist in my gut, the dizziness in my head. I finally understood.

“Because I love you Valerie!”

-

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[planetaryupscaled]

Yield to Temptation

Male OC x Jisoo

Tags: 13k, cheating, dub con, oral, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“You don’t really think that will happen, do you?”

It was the kind of night out that Jisoo hadn’t had in a very long time, maybe ever. Celebrating her friend special day, Lisa. the girls had all gotten together for a night out. Drinks, dinner, a black car to shuttle them all around.

After two glasses of wine at dinner, and then a shot or two of some fruity drink, Jisoo had settled into her seat at the table, enjoying the sights in a way that was hard to imagine for a married mother of two.

The other girls in the group were more rambunctious, and generally behaving like the wild girls that they had once been. Jisoo was more than happy to sit quietly, share an occasional laugh, and check out the eye candy.

One hour turned into two, and the shots were flowing freely. Even with only a few drinks in her, Jisoo was becoming three sheets to the wind. At five feet tall and a little bit more than one hundred pounds, even at her best Jisoo couldn’t handle more than a few drinks. Usually, she stopped drinking before she had the feeling of losing control, but with car service for the evening and a bit of coaxing from her friends, Jisoo was quite intoxicated as the evening wore on.

Lisa had disappeared into the back for a “private dance” with a muscular dancer whom she had been paying attention to all evening, courtesy of her friends’ generosity. “She’s going to get lucky tonight!” said Jennie to Jisoo as Lisa followed her chosen suitor into the back.

—

“You don’t really think that will happen, do you?” asked a surprised Jisoo in response. “I know it’s a 'private' dance, but there’s no way anything serious will happen, is there?”

Jennie laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m really not sure, but...if it’s up to Lisa, she’ll definitely make sure it does, and I doubt that they would mind.” Jennie smiled a bit, coyly, at Jisoo. “there’s only one way to find out...we should send YOU back there.”

Jisoo laughed. They both knew, of all of the girls, Jisoo was the least likely to do anything like that. Straightlaced, she married a businessman not long after she left the group, and other than having fun at her own bachelorette party, she hadn’t even touched another man in like, ten years?

Not that it would have been difficult to do. Jisoo had beautiful brown eyes, full lips, and a pretty face framed by dark brown-ish hair that fell neatly behind her shoulders. Despite her petite frame, she had curves in all of the right places. Her hips flared out into a perfect ass, and her slender tummy led up to a lovely set of tits. Her breasts were still wonderfully perky, even after two children. She was often referred to as cute owing to her size, or girl-next-door pretty, but there was no question that if Jisoo wanted to attract male attention, she’d have no lack of suitors.

“How about him?” Said Jennie drunkenly, pointing to Jisoo a tall, attractive dancer with big brown eyes and light reddish-brown hair. Jisoo giggled a bit...the dancer that Jennie had picked was indeed the one that Jisoo had been eying most of the evening. Either Jennie had noticed, or she just knew Jisoo’s type. a swimmers body… this was definitely the guy that Jisoo would have picked for a dance, but she had no intention of having a dance, in public or private, this evening.

Before she could say anything, though, Jennie was waving her arms, getting the attention of the guy in question. He smiled and acknowledged her, casually starting over towards their table.

One he was facing them, something else became clear. He was clearly very, very well equipped down below. None of the them seemed to be lacking in that department, given their job description, but the huge bulge that this particular performer had was clearly impressive, as if his shorts could barely contain it.

He arrived at the girl’s table, and was greeted to noisy catcalls from the now very drunk and boisterous group.

He introduced himself to Jennie first, extending a hand. “Hi, I’m Jin,” he said over the blaring music. “Are you ladies having fun tonight?”

“Absolutely!” Jennie replied. Motioning towards Jisoo, she continued, “My friend here is feeling a bit shy, but she would really enjoy a dance with you.” Jisoo felt her cheeks go red with embarrassment, and she looked away, a bit perturbed that Jennie was making a spectacle of her like this.

“Sure thing!” he said, enthusiastic. “I always love dancing for the gorgeous ones!” Jisoo felt her cheeks burn, but looked up to him and attempted a smile. His brown eyes stared back at her, as if sizing her up for something, and he spotted a broad grin on his handsome face. Jisoo did enjoy the compliment and managed a weak smile and a nod.

In response, Jin turned his attention away from Jennie and, facing Jisoo, extended his hand again. “Hi, I’m Jin. What’s your name, pretty?” The familiarity with which he spoke to her was actually calming, a bit. She felt her cheeks cool a bit, and extended her small hand towards him. He pulled it towards him, and his huge hand enveloped hers.

The warmth of his grasp surprised her. “I’m Jisoo,” she stated nervously, looking up at him apprehensively. His brown eyes sparkly as he smiled back warmly at her. A lump caught in her throat, and she smiled back, swallowing hard.

“Well, Jisoo, your friend tells me that you’d like a dance.” He stood very close to her, and she caught his smell, a clean, soapy smell. His hips thrust out just a hint, slowly. She realized how close her face was to his generous package, and started to get a bit unnerved.

She leaned back, away from him, and looked up. “I’m sorry if my friends gave you the wrong idea, I’m really not looking for that tonight.” Jisoo found herself laughing nervously as he said it.

Jin kept at it, though. “Oh, c’mon...you wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings, would you?” He gave a fake wounded look.

Jisoo giggled drunkenly. “You don’t want to dance for me, I’m no fun - I’m married!” She waived him off half-heartedly, but clearly enjoying the attention.

“A pretty lady like you, married? What are you doing in a place like this? Your husband is crazy to let you out of his sight!” Jin picked up her left hand, running his long fingers over her wedding band. “You’re lucky that you found me...there are some men in here who wouldn’t be as polite as me if they knew you were taken,” he continued, then His voice dropped into a husky whisper. “I’ll take good care of you, protect you from that element.” Jisoo giggled, and let his hand continue to linger on hers. In response, he placed his hand around her wrist, pulling her hand up and placing it on his flat, muscled stomach. She didn’t stop him, or pull her hand away. Instead, she blushed, running her hand up and down his chiselled abs. Her heart fluttered.

“Go ahead, Jisoo, have some fun for once!” Her friend Lisa called from the end of the table. Jisoo glared at her friend for a moment, and then smiled a mischievous grin.

“I’m not doing it in front of everyone!” She retorted, her hand still lingering on his chest. Her friends howled with laughter.

“Then we’ll get you a private!” Cried Jennie. “Jin, how much to send you in the back with this girl and make her smile?” She pulled out her purse. “She should be free, you know, she needs to learn to have fun!”

Jin smiled down towards Jisoo, and placing his hand over hers, pulled his head down and gave her hand a lingering kiss. “I agree, I wouldn’t dream of charging this treasure, the pleasure would be all mine.” They were clearly drunk, though the fact that she was even a part of this meant that she probably was as well. Oh well, she thought to herself, it’s just a little harmless flirting...

Jin grabbed Jisoo firmly but gently by the arm. She allowed herself to be pulled up, and found herself wobbling next to him, blushing like crazy and definitely drunk.

Jin took her hand in his and started to lead her away from the table. Her friends began to applaud and catcall her as she turned away from them, following Jin. He turned around once more, with a final grin to the table. “Don’t worry, ladies, I’ll bring her back safely before you know it!” Jisoo heard their howls of laughter as she allowed herself to be led away, towards what appeared to be a private area in the back.

Am I really doing this? She thought to herself as she followed the stranger down a dimly lit hallway. He turned to her and said, “relax, it’s really harmless fun, if you want it to be. The customer sets the limits, and we make sure everything is on the up-and-up.” He pulled her closer to him, and they stopped in the hallway. He placed his arm gently around her waist, pulling her in a bit. His other hand brushed her hair away from her face, behind her ear. He is gorgeous, she thought to herself, as he leaned in a bit. “I’m really glad you came here...most of the girls aren’t the type I’m attracted to.”

Jisoo continued to blush, but liked where the conversation was going; his compliments seemed genuine. “And what am I?” She asked, her response tinged with a bit of sass. If she was going to have fun, she thought, might as well enjoy the role for the evening and get a few compliments.

“You, Jisoo, are the type of girl I want to dance for in private, and impress. I love petite beautiful lady with lovely figures…” He paused, and pointed towards a wooden door next to him. “This is my private ‘dance studio’ for the evening. Would you care to see it?” Jisoo simply nodded. “Whew,” he said, grinning, “I was worried that you were going to let me down gently.” He opened the door, and Jisoo, curious to find out what would happen next, walked in. Jin grabbed his friend walking by, and whispered something to him

“What was that about?” Jisoo asked, her interest piqued. “Trying to get him to join us, don’t think you’re enough for me?” She giggled — she didn’t even feel like herself, this wasn’t her talking.

Jin grinned, “I was just letting him know to tell the manager I won’t be back on the floor for a while. As for if I’m enough for you...I’ll let you decide.”

Jisoo traced her eyes up and down his body, lingering on the bulge in his crotch, unable to look away, transfixed. “I think you might be too much for me...” She tentatively whispered.

Jin pulled his arm around her, and eased her towards the room entrance. “I promise that it’s just the right amount for you.” he muttered into her ear as she passed by. Jisoo had a chill go down her spine. What was this man expecting to happen? What, she thought to herself, did she expect to happen?

The room was dimly lit, with a small day bed next to it. The sight alarmed her a bit. “Umm...I don’t know if this is a great idea...” said Jisoo, worried a bit about what the bed meant.

Jin rushed to reassure her, standing behind her and rubbing her shoulders and neck. “No, the bed is just because it’s more comfortable and taller than a couch,” he assured her. “Most of the us are quite tall, this lets the customer be at the right level, is all.” He escorted her over to the bed, “here, sit down, remember, you set the limits, so if you’re ever uncomfortable, we can stop.”

“I should probably go,” she said hesitantly, “I really shouldn’t be here, or do this...” Jisoo looked up at Jin, innocently, but made no move. She was clearly drunk, and he knew, willing to be convinced otherwise.

“Don’t be silly,” he replied reassuringly, and he placed both of his hands on her shoulders, and, guiding her gently, sat her down on the side of the bed. Jisoo slumped down on the bed, and, his hands still on her shoulders, turned to the side to allow him to sit beside her. He sat next to her, only the outsides of their legs pressing against one another.

Jisoo tried to relax, rolling her head to try to get her bearings, shake some sense into herself. She closed her eyes to try to keep her drunk mind from swimming away. All of the alcohol had finally sunk in, and she was drunk, and getting drunker from the feel of it.

Jin’s hands began to kneed her shoulders to her neck, and Jisoo simply melted into him. Within seconds she was leaning back into the source of this bliss, as if she had been waiting for this backrub for eternity.

His hands were warm, and strong, and he massaged her shoulders, down to her arms, and then back up, to her back. She was lost in the moment when she felt his hand slip under the back of her shirt, and she murmured, “Hey, mister...I’m a married...”. But she offered no resistance nor moved in the slightest. His hands traveled past her bra back up to her shoulders, and Jisoo felt a contented sigh escape her lips.

Without a word, his fingers slid under the skimpy shoulder straps of her bra, and pushed them down onto her arms. Jisoo remained quiet, though pushing her arms out to aid him as he slid them down her arms. She was becoming a silent, yet willing, accomplice, she knew.

His hands moved in circles around her upper back, then moving down to her lower back, tracing her bra strap for the briefest of moments with his long fingers. He pressed expertly into her lower back, and Jisoo groaned at the unexpected release of tension. His hands moved slowly, deliberately out to the side, as soon stopped. He was pressed into her, she back into him, and she could feel his short breaths on her neck. The massage had stopped, briefly, and he was simply behind her, holding her tenderly, erotically. She yielded to his touch, leaning back further.

“Is this, okay?” He asked in a hoarse voice. His hands ran up her sides, slowly, pausing just under the fabric of her bra. Jisoo nodded her approval.

“Yes...” She whispered, “this feels so good...” His hands paused for a moment longer, then, began soft circles on her sides, under her arms. Jisoo relaxed her arms, allowing him easier access, subtly willing him to continue his slow, deliberate movement towards the forbidden. His index fingers moved further up, and towards the front, and began to brush against the underside of her bra. With each slow circle, he became bolder, and the fingers that were first simply stroking the sides of her bra, were now full running over her breasts.

Jisoo had been murmuring softly as the tease began, but was now frozen in place as she wondered how far she could let this go before it was over the line. After all, her passive response, along with the multiple drinks in her system, assuaged any guilt she might have had. She dismissed her involvement as simply being along for the ride. Really, she was just here because her friends had coerced her into it.

But now...what should be just a dance from a handsome stranger had turned into a shoulder rub, which was turning into a very erotic massage. She felt as excited and nervous as she had in high school, and then...the light touches on her bra turned into squeezing, gentle at first but firmer, so that her bra-covered tits were being firmly held by the stranger hands. Then she felt Jin’s very soft, warm lips on her shoulder, pressing down and lingering. Jisoo could feel her nipples harden in response to the attention that paid to her breasts. Involuntarily, she moaned, the overwhelming sensations and danger of the evening finally breaking through her prim exterior.

Jin took the signal and went with it. His hands stopped squeezing her breasts and, unceremoniously, lifted her bra from below, freeing her perfect, perky breasts. His hands ran gently over her aroused nipples, pinching them gently cupping her breasts underneath. Jisoo whimpered, softly, as his lips pressed down on her shoulders, then to the back of her neck. His strong arms had fully encircled her, and she was yielding to him, fully.

His lips were now at her jawline, and Jisoo realized that her lips would soon be on his at this rate, and what choice did she have, really? Clearly this man knew how to push buttons that she didn’t realize she had, and her friends had pressured her into this situation. She rationalized all of this as she fell deeper into her erotic trance, and became actually aware of how very damp she was between her legs. Jisoo knew that her primal instincts were taking over, and that the slippery slope she was on could get much, much steeper.

As if on cue, one of Jin’s warm hands released her right breast, and began to slide down her soft, tight stomach towards her waist. His lips pressed hard into her neck, almost possessively, and his fingers found their way under the waistband of her skirt. He pressed her labia through her soaking cotton panties, and an “mmm...” Escaped his lips as he acknowledged her clearly aroused state.

Jisoo swallowed hard, becoming nervous for the first time, yet incredibly aroused. He was seducing her, successfully. An expert, he was priming the innocent wife to be fucked, and she was failing every test of willpower. His right hand rubbed her pussy through her undies, and she whimpered, because she knew she was soon going to lose the battle of wills that she desperately had to win. His fingers pushed under the elastic of her underwear, and began to slide down towards the prize that he sought from her.

Jisoo moaned, in frustration, but tried valiantly to save her purity. Her hand reached across and grabbed his. “Jin- baby...I can’t. I’m married. You can’t touch me there.” Jin relented, pulling his hand out and dropping his other hand from her breast. He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her neck, repeatedly. Jisoo wanted to cry in frustration, she was so aroused. “I’m so sorry...” she whispered, trying to turn towards him. In her drunken state, she was actually feeling more guilty about leading him on than anything else.

“Okay darling...whatever you want.” He kissed her neck softly, lingering. “Can I dance for you, please?”

Jisoo nodded her head, as this would stop the physical contact between them which was set to put her over the edge. It would also, she thought, give her a chance to see his rock-hard body a bit more, and was clearly a safer option than the path that they had just been traveling down.

Jisoo adjusted her bra, covering her perfect, still-aroused breasts, and sat back a bit on the bed as Jin stood up.

His hands on his hips, Jin began to slowly grind his pelvis in front of her. She stared admiringly at the muscled body in front of her, and was clearly enjoying the show. Jin took one of her hands, and then the other, placing both of them on his hips. He moved in a bit more, and then, still dancing, slowly slid her hands with his towards his rear. “I am definitely too drunk,” Jisoo thought to herself as she squeezed his tight bottom with her hands. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to take advantage of me in my drunken state!” She said, trying to lighten the mood. She ran her hands up and down his tight bottom, lifting his cheeks with a gentle squeeze, as if to emphasize her point.

Jin murmured appreciatively. “I hope you like what you see,” he said, “you can touch anywhere you’d like, that you’re comfortable with. I’ll let you know if it’s not okay. But...”, and he paused for effect. “Anywhere you touch is okay with me.”

In her drunken state, Jisoo took the bait. She found herself leaning in a bit, running her hands from his backside, and then up and down his flat stomach to his chest. Her mind shut off, and animal instincts took over. She found herself breathing a bit heavier, as Jin moved ever closer to her.

Their bodies practically touching, Jisoo had a full view of the monstrous lump that had been apparent before. It was straining against the fabric, clearly swelled even further from their extracurricular activities just moments before. The soapy scent from his skin was heavy in the air, and part of her was thrilled, and nervous, that she was having such an effect on him. The knowledge that the attraction was mutual gave her a boldness that she didn’t know she had. She leaned in, and kissed his abs, gently. Then again, and again. His soft skin felt warm against her lips, and she could feel herself beginning to get wet, again. She could also feel the heat radiating from his groin, and she knew that he was enjoying this on much more than a professional level.

“You can kiss any part of me that you’d like.” Jin stated matter of factly. Jisoo was feeling tipsy, and somehow, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. It was still less dangerous than the situation from earlier, and now the petite housewife was the one in control found herself in control. She leaned in, giggling a bit. His g-string covered lump rubbed up against her cheek. it was hot, and she could feel it stir as it slid against her left cheek, then her right. His hip shifted, and there it was, in front of her.

“Go ahead, kiss it. There’s no harm...” She didn’t even look up to see his face, she could hear his grin in his words. Jisoo giggled again. This was getting crazy!

She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and without thinking further, kissed it, gently. It was just fabric, after all. No harm, really, just harmless flirting. And she heard his moan, and kissed it, again, her lips lingering against the warmth. She opened her eyes, to see it, rock hard, and she felt it pushing against her lips. He moaned again. Jisoo closed her eyes, her head getting dizzy, her lower body stirring in lust.

“Do you want to see it?” he calmly asked, and hypnotically, Jisoo simply nodded, her brown eyes opening again, to gaze on the massive bulge covered by shorsts. She wanted nothing more in the world than to see it. Jin’s fingers pulled down on the sides of his shorts, slowly. The shorts was pulled down, and what had been a tease, a fabric-covered lump, was now going to be very real, and very large, in front of her.

As the fabric pulled away, his penis sprang out in front of her, only inches from her face, quivering, throbbing, waiting. It was massive, at least nine inches or more, so thick with a large, purple head. It stood proudly at attention, hard as steel, and she felt mesmerized by the large veins of the underside, tracing from the bottom of the glans all the way to the base.

Jisoo simply stared, equal parts in shock and fascination. She sat frozen. It was perfect, in every way, and she felt her body start to react. Her mouth began to water, just a bit, and she licked her lips instinctively. Her cotton panties were clearly soaked, she knew. The desire her body felt for him, for his monstrous organ, was palpable. The martinis from the previous hour had removed any sense of decorum and most of her inhibition.

She stared up at him, apprehensively, her beautiful brown eyes locking on his, quizzically, as if deciding how to react. He smiled at her, and, reaching down and placing his hand on her wrist, as if waiting for her to make the move. This was so foreign to her, she didn’t know the decorum. “Can I...” She started, pausing. There was a moment of silence. Jisoo had to put it out there, but couldn’t bring herself to say it, and break the last remaining boundary between them.

He smiled at her, their eyes locking. “Do you want to touch it?” he asked gently. Jisoo, trembling a bit, simply nodded her answer. Yes, she thought, I want to touch it very badly.

“Touch it, then.” Jin whispered hoarsely, his fingers wrapping around her wrist, and pulling her hand upwards towards his manhood. “It’s okay to want to touch it. I want you to. I would love you to.” he added.

He pulled her hand up, and placed it, silently, on his massive member. Her fingers closed around the thick shaft, unable to wrap them completely around it. It was warm in her hand, she could feel it throbbing. Her curiosity overcame her, she squeezed it, gently. She heard his moan, and she looked up at him. He was smiling down at her, and she almost laughed at how surreal this was. This was so out of character, it didn’t seem real. Jisoo was a good wife, she would never do this for real...but here, it was just curiosity, just fun. It didn’t have to mean anything. And Jin’s penis was so obscenely large, it couldn’t be real, but it needed to be touched. She needed to touch it. Jisoo rubbed her petite hand up and down on the huge, veiny shaft, exploring her newfound toy.

She put her other hand on it as well, and with both hands wrapped around it, there was still an inch or two, before even reaching the massive head at the end. It didn’t seem real, but it was very much so, the heat that it gave off as she slowly ran her hands up and down it enchanting her. He murmured his appreciation, and Jisoo realized in her drunken state that she was slowly jacking him off. A slow, sensual hand job had begun. She stared at the diamond on her wedding band, glimmering in the light, as it dawned on her how much trouble she was going to be in if this continued. His sounds told her that he was enjoying this. Her primal urge was winning out. She wanted, needed this. And, as she was starting to realize that tonight at least...if she wanted it, she would get it, and good.

The pace of her strokes had begun to increase, and Jin’s breathing quickened, with Jisoo’s top hand running lovingly over his head, still hard but softer than the steel below, her finger tracing languidly over his hole. A small string of pre cum connected her finger to his glans as she pulled it away, and Jisoo bit her lip, in hunger and uncertainty. The string of fluid might as well have drawn her in. She felt her own breathing quicken, and she had to fight the instinct to put her finger in her mouth and taste it, knowing that one taste wouldn’t be enough, and lead to much worse. But it was clear, this needed to end, before it went any further.

Jisoo paused, her one hand never releasing his giant phallus. She looked up at him. “I should go...my friends will be waiting.” Jisoo knew that words rang hollow, her hand still slowly stroking his perfect cock, not willing to release its prized toy.

Jin just chuckled a little bit, and ran his hand from behind her ear, to her chin, leaving it there. “Your friends paid for you to have a half hour of fun back here, and it’s only been a few minutes. I guarantee they have completely lost track of time, anyways,” he reasoned with her. “We don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to, okay? We can stop anytime.”

As if to demonstrate, he backed away from her slightly, but Jisoo didn’t release her grasp from him. He looked down at her hand, the contrast between her small, ring-covered hand and his monstrous manhood was apparent, and very erotic. “Besides,” he added, motioning down, “I don’t think that you want to stop, do you?”

*

Jisoo averted her gaze from him, shame filling her a bit. “No,” she quietly replied, “I don’t want to stop.” She stroked his shaft lovingly, from the very tip to the base. Her other hand reached down, and stroked his exposed testicles. They were heavy in her hand. Jin groaned quietly. He loved it, she knew it. There were no limits anymore.

Jin had her, and they both knew it. A moment of awkward silence followed. He ran his hand absently through her hair, and then placed his hand underneath her chin, propping her head up. Her large brown eyes stared at his sparkling ones, and he smiled. “Then don’t. You know what to do.”

His hips thrust out, moving towards her face. Her hand remained on the base of his cock, and his hips gyrated, and Jisoo found his monster brushing against her cheek, slowly. Jisoo turned her cheek away, still a bit nervous about what was to come. Again, he slowly rubbed his cock head against her other cheek, this time, more slowly. Jisoo moaned. It was so close. “I can’t do this...” she heard herself say, as she prepared to do exactly what she shouldn’t. She felt the warm tip of his huge cock trace slowly across her lips, and she held still...paralyzed...entranced. It drew away from her, slowly, reluctantly, when she did not offer access to it.

And then she saw a thin line of fluid, connecting from her bottom lip to the hole on his glans. Oh no...she thought. Her free hand reached up to her lip. Feeling moisture, she knew. Instinctively, her tongue licked her bottom lip. It was sticky, sweet, yet salty. She moaned, as she tasted it, involuntarily. She felt herself getting wet, down there. Jisoo whimpered once more.

“I’m a good wife, I’m not like this…I need this,” she thought to herself. No one has to know, she reasoned with herself. Jisoo was quickly sinking in deep, talking herself into it.

She was a good wife. She was a faithful wife. But she was going to be neither tonight. She was giving it all up tonight - for a stranger’s cock.

Jin knew it as well. She was so close to breaking, and he knew that she just needed the smallest, gentlest encouragement. He slowly placed his huge cock against her lips, and Jisoo could hear his breathing, shallow, his excitement matching her own. “Please, baby. Put it in your mouth. You’ll love it. We both will. Please...” he paused. “Just for us. Let’s have tonight.”

“No one will ever know.”

She was frozen in place, staring at his mammoth snake, still with her hand wrapped around it. He leaned carefully towards her, slowly, and his giant mushroom head kissed her still-closed lips.

Jisoo looked up at him with trepidation. “I can’t...” she murmured, but he simply used the moment that she opened her mouth to push forward. The tip of his head rested for the moment on her bottom lip, her mouth open just a touch. Her pretty eyes locked on his, revealing her confusion, and her lust. They pleaded with him, make this decision for me...they said. I won’t say no. He smiled, and slowly pushed his monstrous head between her lips, and instinctively, passively, she opened her perfect lips further. His head slid in, barely fitting, his hand placed behind her head, holding it there, caressing her hair lovingly. Jisoo was sucking cock tonight, whether she wanted to or not.

Jisoo’s head was spinning — explaining everything else was possible, but there was no way to explain a penis in her mouth, another man’s fluid on her lips. Jisoo tried to speak, feebly, half-heartedly seeking to extract herself from this situation, but as she opened her mouth to utter words, she felt the hand caressing her hair hold her in place. She was too drunk and aroused to know what to say.

Attempting to breathe, to get some air, to clear her head, she opened her mouth further, and he took this invitation to slide further into her mouth. She felt her tongue slide under the huge head now in her mouth. The taste of his pre cum swirled in her mouth, and she felt herself getting turned on even more as she realized what a wanton position she was now in. His one hand massaged her hair, and then her neck, and she heard his soft moans as she bobbed her head, slowly, down over his cock head and top of his shaft. She loved sucking cock, and this was the most beautiful cock she had ever seen. She was going to do this, she knew. Her hand was wrapped around the base of his shaft, not even half of him fitting in her petite mouth.

Jisoo took more of him into her mouth, no longer passively allowing him to have his way with her, but lovingly and enthusiastically pleasuring her new lover. His hands left her neck, as it was clear that she was now in deep and was entirely complicit in this act. She paused, pulling it out of her mouth, kissing the tip and slowly licking underneath. She felt herself falling deeply in love with this cock. She wondered what it would feel like to be penetrated by something so large...

His hands wandered down her back and under her top. She felt one hand swiftly and expertly release the clasp from her bra. Jisoo whimpered nervously but did not stop him from freeing her perfect, breasts from her bra. The same hands casually reached down and pulled her top over her head. For a moment, she released his cock from her grasp, and putting her arms up, allowed him the pleasure of seeing her nearly half-naked body.

She felt the air hit her bare chest, only her unclasped bra keeping her from being entirely nude from the waist up. She stared up at him again, and he smiled as his hands removed her bra completely. Her tits stood out proudly, her large, pronounced areolas erect from the combination of the exposed air and the eroticism of the situation that she found herself in. His hands cupped her firm tits, one in each hand, squeezing them gently. Both of his thumbs rubbed over the tips of her nipples, and Jisoo moaned with pleasure. She felt her pussy getting wetter, and began to wonder how to best take care of her need for release. She had never before felt so sexual, so desirable.

“Go ahead, you can touch yourself.” Jin commanded. “I want you to enjoy yourself with me.” Jisoo obeyed, sliding her hands underneath her skirt and past her already damp panties. She became vaguely aware that she had never before been as aroused as she was now, her right hand stroking her special spot as Jin’s hands massaged her tits. Jisoo never even masturbated, and now she was rubbing herself while sucking on a strange man’s penis. The wedding band on her left-hand gleamed, her small hand wrapped around his fat engorged penis.

Seeking a more comfortable position, Jisoo found herself sliding off of the bed, her knees pressing against the tile floor of the dimly lit room. Her hand remained pressed between her legs, rubbing her vaginal folds as she briefly paused from feeding herself this man’s beautiful penis.

Jisoo looked up at him, lust filling her brown eyes, and with Jin his perfect cock from her mouth. Slowly and deliberately, she kissed his tip, and then gave a long lick to the veiny underside of his member. She kept her eyes locked on him, and her large, liquid, coffee-colored eyes continued to plead with his in lust. She wanted him, and he could have her. She made it clear with only a look. At that point she knew she had lost any control of the situation. Jisoo, now on her knees in service to Jin, was surrendering to the moment. Jisoo was becoming a slut. And she loved it.

Jisoo looked up at this near-stranger, a look of lustful desperation in her eyes. “Please don’t come in my mouth,” she whispered, “please don’t make me swallow.” The implication was clear. He could cum, and she would help him climax, make him climax. This was no longer a moment of curiosity gone too far, this was a sexual moment that would go to full completion. Jisoo, now an unfaithful wife, couldn’t even pretend anymore. She wanted deeply to satisfy him, and herself in the process.

In speaking those words, Jisoo didn’t realize that she had given up any control of the situation. She was asking for something, but left the decision to her new partner. In somehow trying to maintain her dignity in a losing battle, she was surrendering to his decision. If he wanted to, he would cum in her mouth. And both of them now knew that she would let him, and she would swallow every drop if he so chose.

Jin just smiled at her, and said “Don’t worry, beautiful, that’s not where I want to put my cum.” In her drunken lust, Jisoo didn’t understand the meaning of those words, she just wanted his warm, throbbing cock back in her mouth again. She soon would learn what he meant.

She looked back down at the beautiful, gigantic cock in front of her and, looking back up at Jin’s brown eyes for approval, placed it gently into her mouth again, and resumed loving his huge manhood as best as she could. They locked eyes as she worshipped him with her mouth, her left hand grasping the base of his phallus while her right hand returned to her inflamed, nearly-bare pussy.

Here she sat, a married woman, kneeling on the floor next to a flimsy bed, sucking off a complete stranger and his huge cock as he played with her tits. She found her own orgasm starting to build as she stroked her clitoris in rhythm with her sucking, her tempo building and the buzzing beginning in her head, so close to release...but then, she felt his hands leave her swollen breasts, and reach under her arms, pulling her up from her knees and pushing her backward onto the bed. She fell drunkenly back onto the mattress, nearly on fire for an orgasm, and looked hopefully, nervously up at Jin. Her hand return to her exposed womanhood, and she prayed that he would soon give her release, with his own fingers or tongue. But that was not to be. Her new mate stared down at her intensely, and simply said “I need to fuck you now, gorgeous.”

Her legs splayed defenselessly, his hands reach towards her panties and made quick work of them, sliding them down her smooth legs and tossing them on the floor beside the bed. Jisoo offered no resistance at all - enthralled by what was happening. In a bemusing attempt to retain some form of modesty, she propped herself up on her elbows awkwardly, and shook her head no. “I can’t do that…I’m- I’m married,” she pleaded. She knew how hollow the words were. She knew if he pushed harder, she would give in. She wanted it as much as he did.

Jin reached for the table next to the bed, and pulled out something in a wrapper. “It’s OK, beautiful, I’ll wear a condom if you want.”

Jisoo fought her feelings, her urges, and almost gave in... Almost. “Not that...I- I just can’t,” she said “please - I’ll give you a blowjob, please?”

Jin laughed quietly, his hands peeling apart the condom wrapper. “No, baby. You want this, so why don’t you help put this on? Either that, or...I don’t have to wear one...” his voice trailed off, teasingly.

She sat up and grab his engorged cock and proceeded to put it back into her mouth, ending the discussion for the moment. Her hand return to her now unguarded pussy, stroking her clit wantonly. The blowjob had become urgent, not just out of lust, but needing to avoid what would be a far more dangerous scenario. Deep down, she knew that if Jin didn’t cum soon, his giant dick was going to find its way inside of her tight married womanhood. Her resistance was waning as her arousal built. She was curious about his huge cock, and if he tried again to fuck her, she knew that she would put up no resistance as he took her chastity.

He again pulled his massive cock from her lips, and she found herself staring at his hand, in which he held the condom. She looked up at him, and Jin smiled and placed the rubber into her hand. Jisoo took the condom, nervously, between her fingers, and, grasping the base of his cock, attempted to roll it on him.

It barely fit, and only with an obscene amount of stretching did the condom even manage to contain his massive head. Jisoo’s shaking hands did nothing to help matters, and she thought back to all of the times where she laughed at the idea that a condom wouldn’t fit. This one barely did. She also knew that she wasn’t just putting on a condom...she was giving permission for Jin to fuck her. Her heart was beating, and her face flushed, as she realized that the monstrous organ in front of her would soon be making its way inside of her most special of places.

It was on him, now, stretching only halfway down his huge appendage, and her hand continued to stroke the uncovered base of his cock as Jin’s hands returned to fondling her perky, perfect breasts. Then he began to lean into her, and Jisoo felt herself sliding backwards, onto her back. She released his manhood, and her back hit the soft blanket on top of the bed. She saw his shadow looming over her, and, her mind swimming, she closed her eyes, and felt the squeak of the mattress springs, and opened her mouth slightly as she felt her legs being parted by his large, rough hands. No sound came out.

In moments, he was on top of her, kissing her lips, the taste of Jin’s pre cum still in her mouth. She kissed back against his soft lips, his massive, sheathed penis pressing against her perfectly flat stomach. It occurred to her in her still-drunken state that this was their first kiss...it was nice, but it somehow made everything feel...real. Thoughts started to flood into her mind. She had been gone for quite some time...her friends sending her to the “back room” was nice, but it had probably been far more than a half hour since she had disappeared. They would wonder where she was.

“Jin,” Jisoo saying his name for the first time, “I have to go...my friends...” He put his finger to her lips. “Your friends think that you got sick and called for a ride home. When we were in the bathroom earlier I had my friend pass the word along.”

Jisoo gasped. Her ride home was gone. Her friends thought that she had left, and realizing the state that she was in, and how she looked, she knew that she couldn’t go back out there now without it becoming a scandal.

Jin smiled, as if he could read her thoughts. “If you want to go...I can make that ride happen. But you seemed to be enjoying yourself. “He leaned in and kissed her again. The struggle in her mind was waning quickly, and she kissed him back. Jisoo wasn’t going to be anyone’s wife tonight. She was going to be someone’s slut.

She felt his body wedge between her small legs. She knew what he was preparing for, but in her drunken passion she did nothing to slow him down. She felt him rub the underside of his latex-covered cock up and down her exposed labia, teasing her. She moaned. Up and down, up and down, her pussy leaking her fluids all over him, preparing for its invasion.

“We can’t do this, please...” He reached down and rubbed his tip against her entrance. Jisoo looked down...her fluids were coating the tip, her own body clearly inviting him in. She knew that her words were hollow, and the inevitable seemed only moments away. “Pleaseee...” She moaned again as his massive head began to rub between her pussy lips. But this time she wasn’t sure if she was saying no, or asking for it. And she knew it didn’t matter anyways, she was going to get fucked, and good. He chuckled softly and kissed her, silencing her protests.

The very tip of his penis pressed against her tight pussy lips, searching for the sweet spot where it could begin its journey inward. It was clear that Jin had no intention of foreplay, and Jisoo’s wet mound made it clear that none was needed. He again rubbed his cock head against her folds, Jisoo’s body providing the lubrication to be penetrated, despite any protests to the contrary. Her head spun, the reality of the situation and what she was doing starting to overcome her lust. “No. Jin, please. I barely know you.” He kissed her again. And again. And finally, she kissed back. She felt herself giving in, what choice did she really have?

The tip of his penis rubbed once more against her entrance, her slick vagina inviting him in, begging for it. Jisoo groaned, her body clearly welcoming this invasion and her mind fearful of how far this was going.

“Please don’t...you’re too big...it won’t fit...” she pleaded with him to stop, her head still holding out hope that her body would resist. Jin began putting pressure against her tight entrance, searching for her sweet spot. Closer...closer...and then he found it, and Jisoo gasped as he started to push his fat cock head into her.

Jisoo felt her breathing grow heavy as her married pussy prepared for its invasion. As he slowly pushed his cock into her, she was being more than filled up...she was being stretched, beyond comfort, to a painful level. “Oh my God, no, stop!” She frantically tried to push him back, but he was too strong, and clearly had reached a decision point. He was fucking this lovely bride, and, he was convinced, she was going to let him.

Jisoo wore a painful expression on her face and held her breath, tense, trying to push him back. She could barely get words out. “Oh...oh...ohhh...my God...” she gasped, as she made a final, half-hearted attempt to keep him at bay.

But Jin kept up the pressure on her, and even with only the very tip in, he had stretched her to the point of ruin. He pushed against her as he pulled her by the hips. “Ssshhh...” he whispered to her, “relax...you’re going to love it,”

He pushed the final bit needed to convince her. He was going to get in, and she knew it. Her hands went slack. Jisoo closed her eyes and turned her head, biting her lip hard.

She uttered one, final, quiet, “no.”, and then she surrendered, inviting him into her.

The whole of his head popped through her defenses, and she moaned in a way she never had before, the guilt that she felt being overcome by her lust to be filled. Only his head was in, but still, she felt her body beginning its surrender to the inevitable, reflexively her hips tilting upward to welcome in the cock that she craved. “Oh baby, you’re so tight...you feel amazing...” he whispered to her as he punctured her throbbing vaginal lips.

Jisoo was intoxicated by his clear desire for her, his demand for her, and could only sigh helplessly as he pressed further into her. “Spread your legs further, gorgeous...it’ll make it easier to take me.” She obliged, straining to take in his size into her small opening. Anything to make the stretching easier, somehow less painful.

Even through the stretched-out rubber, Jisoo could feel the heat of his foreskin folds against her inner walls as an inch, then another, pushed into her. Jisoo closed her eyes as she felt him completing his invasion of her body. She could barely even try to dissuade him. She had welcomed it. And now she was feeling another man inside of her for the first time. She realized that she no longer only belonged to her husband, and all she could do was let out a sad groan of acceptance. She needed this.

He was barely halfway in when their eyes locked upon each other. “Jin, we shouldn’t do this...I’m married. Please don’t go any deeper, please?” He smiled, and grabbed her hips, drawing himself still further into her. Jisoo closed her pretty eyes and let out a choked cry, a mixture of sexual release and pain. “Please...you’re too big for me.” She exhaled, trying to relax, to make it easier. “Oohh...it hurts, you’re going to ruin me...” her voice trailed off as he pushed further into her.

He paused. “I’m sorry, beautiful, but I need this, and you want it so badly. Does it feel good?” She nodded guiltily. It felt so good. He pushed in further. “Do you like it inside of you?” She moaned, and nodded. “Are you going to cum all over it?” Jisoo winced at the words, and then, with a look of shame on her face, slowly nodded. “Tell me.”

He started to pump his organ in and out of her, slowly, going just a bit deeper with each thrust. Her brown eyes remained closed, her beautiful, delicate features intensely reflected the orgasm building inside of her. “Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how it feels.”

“It feels so good...” Jisoo moaned in response. She wiggled her rear against the bed, trying to pull more of him into her tight body. Her pert breasts bounced as he pumped against her on the mattress.

“Are you going to cum all over my cock?” Jisoo winced at the dirty language, but nodded in response.

“I’m...I’m going to cum soon...I’m going to cum so hard...” she heard her voice. The first waves of an orgasm built up inside of her. Usually she had to concentrate to climax, everything had to be perfect. This was different, it felt as though her orgasm was being fucked out of her. Jin’s giant penis was pressing against every sensitive nub of her body, his hands tracing along the smooth skin of her married body, forcing physical responses that she never intended to have. “Don’t stop...” she whispered.

Jisoo felt the orgasm wash over her, and she gave in, finally, completely. She felt herself, heard herself, cry out in perfect agony, as she climaxed on the giant organ of a complete stranger. He didn’t even begin to let up, and as her orgasm triggered, and continued, she felt as though he was just starting. Her response triggered a change in his pace. He began to thrust in and out of her with alarming speed, and her body responded with utter physical joy. She came again, immediately, the second orgasm on top of the first, a sexual crescendo that didn’t let up.

Jin pushed deeper into her, harder, and Jisoo could only grab at him with her hands, trying to pull him down into her orgasm. He whispered into her, “You’re so beautiful...do you always cum like this?” She shook her head. “Do you ever cum like this?” he asked, his words punctuated by an extra hard thrust. She could only moan, and shook her head. “I’m not even all the way in, beautiful. We’ve just started.” He reached down and kissed her, forcefully, to punctuate his words.

He then slammed into her, as far as he could go into her petite frame. Jin hit her cervix, always a sensitive spot, where she always made her husband stop. She knew that Jin would not pause as she was used to, she knew he would not be gentle. “Oh God…” she cried out, “I can’t take you…you’re so big...” Jin smiled in response, then slid in again, and again - slowly, and forcefully.

He was hitting her cervix, repeatedly. Jisoo cried out for him to stop, each time. “You’re to- you’re too big...please stop…you’re too big”. The petite married woman was reduced to babbling incoherently as her lover fucked her senseless. Still in a haze post-climax, Jisoo had lost any control.

Still, the pain from his forceful thrusts was receding, as her body began to become accustomed to his unusual size. Jisoo saw him reach for her legs with his arms, and he placed them, gently, on his shoulders as he leaned down into her. Her feet dangled just over his broad collarbone, and she lay helplessly as he thrust in and out of her pliant womanhood, she moaned and cried out continuously as he pressed further and further into her.

Jisoo spasmed again, as he reached further into her than ever before. He hit a new spot, he was impaling her. She let out a choked gasp of surprise, and shuddered involuntarily. “Is that a new spot?” Jin grinned at her. “No one has ever hit that before, have they?” Jisoo stared at him in wide-eyed surprise. She shook her head. “That’s my spot, baby. That belongs to me.”

Jin began whispering to her as he plumbed her depths with his monster cock.

“Do you love it?” he grunted, pushing his entire length into her. Jisoo could only nod, speechless at the feelings that erupted in her. “Are you mine now?” Jisoo, wide-eyed, nodded again. Jin leaned in and whispered to her. “You’re so sexy...you make me want to take off this condom and give it to you properly. Do you want that?”

Jisoo lay still as a rag doll, getting fucked slowly like the toy that she now was. She stared at her new lover, and closed her eyes, shaking her head no. It didn’t matter that she did want that, and that her body was now accustomed to, and loving, this new, huge visitor. The pain went away, and waves of pleasure washed over her.

Jisoo felt him pause, asking her again if she wanted his skin on hers, direct...no protection. She nearly cried in agony. He started to fuck her again, but his words threatened to stop unless...unless...

Her eyes closed and rolled in the back of her head. She cried out as a deep, guttural orgasm washed over her. She heard herself begging to be fucked, and she didn’t care how. “You can do anything to me...please...fuck me. Just fuck me.”

He slowed his thrusts, but didn’t even begin to bring Jisoo back to reality. He paused, and shoved into her, roughly. She groaned. “Fuck me, Jin.” He thrust in hard again, hitting her cervix. She spasmed, hard. “Fuck me.” Again, he bottomed out inside of her, and she could only lay back, and plead for more. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me...” Jisoo heard her soft voice plead and whisper to her new lover, as he explored depths of her that had never been touched.

He continued his ministrations, and stared down at his married conquest. She stared back in rapture, high from her post-orgasmic bliss and continued fucking. “Do you love my cock? Tell me that you love my cock...”

She stared at him with her large brown eyes. “I love it. I love it so much. Please fuck me with your big cock. Please, I want to cum. I need to cum more...” Jisoo had lost any self-control, and words poured out of her mouth that she would never utter.

“You’re mine, do you understand?” He asked. Jisoo closed her eyes and nodded, biting her lip further. Her beautiful married body was betraying her, responding to his carnal invasion with its desire to fulfill its natural duty. “Who is inside of you?” he asked quietly.

Jisoo whispered back, “You are, Jin.”

“And does it feel better than anyone else?”

Jisoo could only nod.

“You belong to me, now. Your pussy belongs to me. Is that clear?” Jisoo could only sigh and nod, as his penis had completely taken over her body at this point, there was no point in denying the truth. “You’re going to let me do whatever I want with you, aren’t you?” Jisoo paused, the mystery behind those words sounding almost threatening, but she already knew the answer.

“You can do whatever you want to me. Use me.” the last words were pleaded, not spoken, and sounded less like an admission and more like a request. Jin’s condom-covered cock had made her see what sex was really supposed to feel like. His many inches filled Jisoo, and at that point she would have done anything for more. In the span of an evening Jisoo had become an absolute whore for a stranger’s cock.

Jin pulled out of her formerly-tight vagina, and Jisoo gasped, the feeling of his absence made it clear the damage that his organ had already wrought to her female parts. His strong arms scooping under her back, he pulled her off of the bed into a sitting position. Reaching down, he kissed one breast, then another, pausing to suckle at her left breast for just a moment. Jisoo could only close her eyes and revel in the sensation. “I love your tits..” he commented as he finished his oral worship of her nipples.

Unceremoniously, he then turned Jisoo onto her stomach, her aroused breasts rubbing against the fabric of the bed, her head pushed down on one cheek into the comforter. His left hand pushed down between her shoulder blades, and she felt her breasts being pushed hard into the mattress, her instinct was to arch her back, the result of which was that her still-dripping pussy was propped into the air. An offering to him, she thought to herself.

She felt his large hands grab her from behind, squeezing her soft, round ass. She felt his lips tenderly kiss one cheek, then the other as his hands drifted to her hips. “I love your ass...” she heard him say, “I love it so much I might have to fuck it someday...” the words thrilled her and yet alarmed her. There was no way that his massive erection could fit into her virgin rear, but just knowing that he wanted such a thing made her even more aroused. The word “someday” floated around, dangerously. Jisoo knew that this one-time fling could very easily turn into a regular thing, if he wanted. Jisoo already knew that she would do as he told her.

His hands pulled at her hips, and she felt him kneel down behind her. Turning her head, she could dimly see that he was prostrate to her, and she felt his lips make tender contact with her dripping wet pussy. His tongue followed, tracing a long, slow, luxurious path from her clit up to the very end of her. He repeated the move, and again, pausing after the third time to deliver a gentle kiss to her exposed pussy, followed by his tongue pushing into her, hard. He could hear him murmur his clear arousal, and he pulled away, muttering “you taste so good...I need to make you mine,” followed by further, eager licks to her pussy. Her clit was vibrating as he slowly sucked on it with his mouth, and Jisoo’s knees trembled as another orgasm began to build in her loins.

To her dismay, Jin stopped his oral worship of her, and Jisoo found herself subconsciously, slowly, shaking her rear as his tongue left her, straining lewdly for him to continue making love to her with his mouth. Her moan of frustration was met with a quick response, his hand placed firmly on her sex again, his fingers probing her, stroking her, rubbing up against her.

His other hand was placed firmly on her hip, grabbing the soft padding on her side and pulling himself into her. His hand left her sex, and was replaced by the smooth, warm skin of his cock head, again rubbing against her. But this time...it felt different.

Jisoo pulled her head off of the bed, and tried to turn around to confirm with her eyes what her body was feeling, but she could see nothing except him smiling, staring down at her backside, clearly focused on guiding his monster into her tight body. She felt him slide against her, seeking the right angle with which to penetrate her dripping cunt. “Jin...” she nervously spoke, “Are you wearing protection?”

Jin looked up at her, and as they locked eyes, she could see the answer in his eyes even before he shook his head. No condom would separate them further.

Jisoo struggled to prop herself up, but a firm hand on her back pushed her back down. “You don’t want me to use a condom, trust me. You want to feel this, don’t you?” She felt his other hand guide his cock against her exposed opening, again rubbing slowly, up and down, searching for the sweet spot.

Jisoo wobbled drunkenly on her knees, trying to stave off what seemed inevitable. “Jin...” Jisoo pleaded, “you have to wear a condom...please...” She felt his tip pause at her opening, but soon there was pressure there, from his body forcing it into her petite, married hole. “Please, please...I hardly know you...”

His hands ran from her hips up her side, past her ribs and gently cupping her breasts which hung beautifully below her, rolling her nipples between his fingers. She felt his lips in between her shoulder blades, gently kissing her soft skin. “I know, baby...that’s why we’re going to get to know each other much better now...” his words wafted to her ears, and his hands unclasped from her breasts, and traveled to her shoulders. She felt him stand up behind her.

The pressure from his penis was as firm as the previous entry, but this time, Jisoo’s body was prepared, even eager, for his entrance. He pushed into her firmly, and she felt his skin ripple against hers, every vein and bump of his huge cock sliding against her tight vaginal wall, stretching her out obscenely. She closed her eyes and gasped. Jin was fucking her bareback, and it felt amazing.

One inch, and another, and another went in. Having never had sex doggy style, Jisoo was unaccustomed to how she should position herself, but Jin had taken control. Her soft, round bottom waived in the air, offered to him, and he was taking her gift. Jin was taking her, completely. He was only halfway in, but Jisoo could already feel him deeper than ever before.

Jin pulled her firmly into his huge cock, and she felt his erection bump against her cervix, causing an involuntarily spasm. Her moan only encouraged him, and he went deeper still, the angle of his penis pressing against parts of her that she had never felt touched before. Jisoo turned her head, trying to catch his gaze. “Please...I’m not on birth control...please...” He smiled at her and leaned in, hunching his body over hers and sloppily kissing her, his tongue invading her mouth as his penis had invaded her body.

One of his hands traveled down her body, brushing her aroused nipples, sliding down her flat stomach, and ending at her engorged vaginal lips. His index finger traced slowly, languidly, towards her clit, pushing into her moist folds and finding her small button, stroking it gently. Jisoo closed her eyes and whimpered softly. “Please...don’t...Jin...please...”

“Shhh...relax and enjoy this. I want you to enjoy this. I want you to cum for me.”

Jisoo became overwhelmed, from the continuous stroking on her erogenous zone and the massive penis that throbbed inside of her. She felt her pussy clamp lovingly around her new lovers phallus as the first waves of an unwanted orgasm crashed over her. Each moment of pleasure weakened her resolve further, and she found her head buried in the mattress, groaning softly as he pushed deeper and deeper into her.

“Pull out before you cum...please?” she heard herself weakly ask, and she felt him pause mid-thrust, only his massive crown was still inside of her now sore and stretched cunt. Her hands were stretched out in front of her, she realized, her hands with a death grip on the bed sheets that she was being fucked senseless on. Jisoo knew how half-hearted her request sounded. She also knew that she was absolutely going to take his cum if he demanded it.

He thrust his penis back into her, slowly, rotating his hips to explore every nook of her tight womanhood as he did. “Whatever you want, gorgeous. It’s your night...” His words brought her some comfort, and relaxing her grip on the sheets, she turned to him and gave him a worried look. Still, she consented to his further penetration, and he resumed slowly defiling her married body.

In and out, in and out, each stroke brought him deeper, and Jisoo learned what it was like to be truly fucked with every pump of his hips. His hands, which had been pulling her slowly into him, relaxed, and began to caress her areolas, as she began to drive her own body into his, gaining comfort with his massive prick and wanting, needing more of it inside of her.

He pulled her up into his embrace, and she felt his lips kissing her shoulders, her neck. She could feel his hot breath on her as he inhaled the scent of her dirty blond hair. She heard his low voice “Mmmmhhh” in approval, and his hands guided her hips down onto his from the top of her hipbone.

Jin’s hands then ran up her body to her firm tits, and he cupped them possessively as her petite curves bounced up and down on his cock. Fucking him was getting easier, as her body adjusted to the size of her new lover and as a result of the copious lubrication that her own body was providing. His hands roughly pinched the tips of her nipples, perched perfectly on top of her silver-dollar sized, light brown areolas. She whined in satisfaction, her petite body responding to his forceful touch.

“You’re so beautiful...” he whispered in her ear, “Let me cum in you.” Jisoo shook her head, but continued to let her pussy be massaged by his massive prick.

“Baby...I’m going to cum.” Jisoo sank once more onto him, deeply, and then, fighting the cravings of her body, climbed off of him. Not wanting it to end, she got onto her hands and knees, in between his legs. She took his slick, glistening erection in her hand, and quickly and hungrily put him into her mouth. She tasted their mixed lovemaking on him, and, feeling a small trickle of pre cum, moaned in hunger and anticipation for his semen. She paused, taking him out of her mouth. She stared up at him. “I will swallow you...” she whispered. It was a gift for him, it was something that she had never done before, but now Jisoo needed it, badly.

Jin sat up, and stroked her cheek. She put his wet erection back in her mouth, running her tongue along his shaft as she did. Bobbing up and down, Jisoo cupped his scrotum lightly, waiting for his inevitable groan, mentally ready for his warm cum to flow into her mouth.

He groaned, once, and then pushed on her shoulders. Confused, Jisoo leaned back, and felt him push further onto her shoulders until she fell onto her back. “Jin...what...” His strong arms grabbed one leg each at her knees, and separated her smooth, long legs.

He was propped over her, on his knees, and she watched him release her left leg and grab his prick, aiming it towards her neatly trimmed mound. In one smooth motion, he was back inside of her, and Jisoo felt the hard pressure of his erection as he pushed into her quickly, urgently. He began to stroke in and out of her, a frantic pace that hadn’t existed before.

The urgency of his actions and speed surprised her, though his motions inside of her gave her what she craved. Jisoo stared up at him, confused and lustful at the same time. “Jin, what are you...” He cut her off with a quick, intense kiss.

“Baby...you’re mine now.” His strokes slowed, and he went deeper. One push in, and then another. His grip on her legs tightened. Jisoo felt her perfect tits jiggle from the force of his thrust. “I need to cum inside of you.” he grunted, and then closed his eyes.

“Jin, no, don’t do it...please...” Jisoo tried to struggle off of the bed, but she was pinned down by the size of his body. “I’m not on birth control! Stop!” Her words were cut off by another kiss, which she instinctively responded to.

The kiss ended. He moved to her neck, leaving marks with hard, possessive bites. Jisoo closed her eyes...this can’t be happening, she thought to herself. His husky voice whispered into her ear.

“You’re such a sexy lady...you wanted this from the first moment we started...now you’re going to get it.”

She gasped. “I can’t. I’ve never done this before with another man...please...pull out. I’ll even swallow your cum, I’ve never done that before, ever...please, PLEASE!” She became frantic.

Jin just smiled at her, and rocked his hips, his cock already planted deep inside of her, reminding her of what her body wanted. Jisoo moaned at the guilty pleasure washing over her. “Please...” she whispered, “I’m not a slut...”

“Yes, you are,” he murmured, “You are tonight. And you love this.” His hand slid up her leg, and his thumb found her engorged clit, and began to stroke it slowly. “You’re going to cum all over this cock, and I’m going to cum in you, and you’re going to love it, you married slut.”

“I’m not a slut,” she whispered uncertainly, as his giant cock slid in and out of her closely-trimmed, swollen pussy. She felt her lips eagerly wrap around his shaft, milking it. Her body was betraying her words as it did its natural duty. Jisoo was starting to realize that her body wanted her lovers cum inside of her, and it was now taking steps to ensure that she would get it. She felt another orgasm building, and her vagina began to contract, squeezing his cock, urging him on. Maybe I am a slut... she thought to herself, as a dull roar formed in her head. Her orgasm was near.

“You’re a slut. You want to swallow my cum, don’t you? You’re my pretty little married slut. Tell me that you’re my slut, and I’ll let you swallow it all.” He pulled her hips towards his, he was completely inside her. Jisoo cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain. He was impaling her, he was ruining her, she knew.

The combination of being called a slut repeatedly, of knowing that it was true, and the insistence of his invading penis broke her, finally. Tears welled up in her eyes as his monstrous cock forced another small orgasm from her. She cried out. “I’m...I’m a slut. I’m your slut. Let me swallow your cum. I’ll swallow your cum. I want your cum.”

“Tell me again...” he growled. “Tell me what you want...”

Jisoo stared up at him, her eyes pleading with his. “I want your cum. Please. Just give me your cum. Give your little slut your cum.” She closed her eyes as another orgasm washed over her, tears ran down her face as she admitted the truth. “I’m just a slut.”

“Wrap your legs around me, baby...”

Still in an orgasmic haze, Jisoo obeyed, just needing his cock deep inside of her. Her petite, smooth legs locked around him, and the widening of her hips allowed him unfettered access to her. The pretty housewife had completely surrendered to him. She licked her lips, knowing that he would soon be pulling out and feeding her his semen.

Instead, Jin’s hands returned to her hips, sliding under her bottom and using his weight to push his full size into her. “You’re going to take it all, slut.” he groaned deeply, an animalistic sound coming from him. “You’re mine.”

Jisoo realized what was happening, as if in slow motion. But Jin was holding her legs, and his massive prick was completely buried in her, their groins pressed together. Jisoo gasped, and grabbed for his arms to pull them off of her legs. His arms held fast. A small sob escaped from her pretty mouth, and staring up at his face, watched as the pleasure that her body gave to this strange lover manifested itself on his face.

“Please don’t cum in me...” she whispered plainly, not a plea, just a quiet request from a broken woman. Her head slumped down onto the mattress, defeated. A tear rolled down her cheek as she realized that she was just going to have to take his seed. After putting herself in this wanton position, it was what she deserved.

His thrusts slowed, deeper, as he bottomed out into her. She felt her body adjusting, to fit this new angle, and she knew from her prior experiences that this natural response meant only one thing: her body was preparing to mate, to accept her partner’s seed. Jisoo exhaled, trying to relax, and felt her legs wrap tighter around his back, sealing her fate. She knew it was only moments. She knew that her body wanted his cum.

Jisoo accepted her fate.

Jin moaned out, and Jisoo felt his cock begin to throb as his semen pulsed through it. The petite woman could only let out a small whimper as she felt the first flood of semen pulse into her waiting womb. “Ohhh...” she whispered in shock, her pussy eagerly milking his mammoth organ for its illicit seed. She no longer tried to push him off, instead wrapping her arms around him, instinctively, pulling the father of her next child closer.

“Ohhh...you came...I love it...” her small voice only encouraged him to push deeper, deeper into her. Jisoo cried out in relief and realization as she felt each pump of his cum spraying against her waiting womb. He collapsed against her, spent from his gift, as she could only whisper out, “Jin...I’m not on birth control...” She let out a small sigh, as the finality of her betrayal dawned upon her, as she realized what she had done.

Jisoo’s mind reeled as their mating concluded, she could feel his penis, now coated with his cum, slickly pump in and out of her unprotected pussy. She came again, despite herself, as the overwhelming eroticism of their act hit her in totality.

“Yes, yes, take it, you pretty little married slut. You love it, don’t you?” Jin smiled, his eyes still closed. “You’re mine, baby. Forever.” He leaned down and kissed her. “You’re still holding me in...you love it.” He was right...throughout all of this, Jisoo’s small legs wrapped tight around him, holding him close to her. “I couldn’t have pulled out if I wanted to...Ughh...” he grunted as Jisoo felt the last of his cum drain from his still erect penis. “I knew I was going to put my cum in you the minute I got you back here. Your married pussy was begging for it. You’re so tight.” He kissed her again, his tongue invading her mouth. “We’re going to have to meet up again soon. I want to fuck you again, and you’re going to let me. Your husband isn’t going to like what I have in store for you...”

He pulled his giant cock unceremoniously out of her, and a gush of his cum poured out of her defeated, used cunt. She lay still, silently staring at this stranger whom she had just allowed to defile her, and he climbed onto her chest wordlessly. Wracked with sobs, tears slid down her face, she saw him straddle her chest, his distended penis, coated with both of their fluids, lay heavy down near her mouth.

“Clean me off...” he stated gently, “And then I’ll get you your clothes back so that you can walk out of here with some dignity.” Jisoo looked up at him, hopeful, that he wouldn’t make her do such a disgusting thing. He shook his head at her hopeful glance, and put his hand behind her head, guiding it up to his slick cock. Feeding it into her pretty mouth, Jisoo learned what it was to be truly loved. Her married sex had always been gentle, loving. This had been steamy, forceful. Now she learned the full extent of this passion. He pumped his cum covered cock into her mouth, and managed to ejaculate a bit more semen into her as a final gift. She shuddered at the sour, salty taste of it. “Swallow it all...every drop, show me that you love it.”

Jisoo closed her eyes and nodded silently. He was right...she had tried to fight it with words, but her actions spoke differently. Her body had wanted it, sought it out. She had given up every bit of purity to him, and had loved it. Cleaning him off made it no worse, it was only a fitting finale for their tryst. She finished cleaning off his still-erect cock with her mouth and tongue, and, as a goodbye present, gave it a long, wet, slow kiss, running her tongue along the head. The taste was utterly perfect. She wanted him again, already. Jin shivered, and, satisfied, finally, he climbed off of her.

The next minutes were a blur. She put on her clothes, and was hustled through a back door, where a black car waited for her...the car that had been called for her, she supposed, long ago. As she slumped, disheveled, into the back seat, the black, middle aged driver gave her a knowing look, and nodded - clearly she was not the first housewife who had explored her erotic side after too many martinis. Jisoo gave him her home address to the driver, and stared out of the window, as the car took off into the night. She felt Jin’s cum drying slowly inside of her and on her leg and panties, as the smell of their lovemaking surrounded her. Her mind reeled as the city disappeared into the night.

[theseinfernalangels]

Princess - Garrick Tavis

Synopsis: Sometimes, nicknames can be a little too accurate. 

A/N: FINALLY something for our man Garrick. This ties into my little OC universe, so give this a read first. I adore Garrick and Cosette’s dynamic, so I’ll definitely write some more for them soon. Happy reading!

Includes: Secrets, Garrick being cheeky, hurt-comfort. Takes place before Fourth Wing.

It, you decided, was much too bright in the sparring gym. The light beats against your eyes in a way that feels entirely too suffocating, starting from the back of your neck into the expanse of your scalp.

You’re concussed, most likely. You’d taken quite the beating on the mat, although you’d won in the end by virtue of threatening to — and almost actually — slitting another cadet’s throat. It was worth it in the end, but the pounding in the back of your brain made you really start to question if you should have just yielded for the sake of saving yourself.

You slump further into the corner of the gym, where the light just barely reached into the little crevice you’ve inserted yourself into. You felt dizzy and unfocused before, just barely managing to drag your way behind the other cadets to give yourself a moment to rest.

Stupid, you scold yourself. You look like a weak fool. 

It’s hard to watch the rest of the matches when you can barely look up without feeling nauseous. It’s loud, too; the whoops and cries of your classmates combined with the thuds and grunts of people hitting the ground was making you feel worse. You almost wish your father had dumped you with the Scribes instead. It would be boring, sure, but at least it would have been quiet.

You’re just about to drag yourself out of the gym to try and soothe your mind when the aching light is obstructed from your view, dimming the space around you just enough so that the pain isn’t searing. What the hell?

You squint. That’s most definitely a person standing with their back to you; their definition is broad and tall, but it’s a little hard to tell who’s saving you from a wicked migraine until something else catches your eye:

Cloudy, ink-like swirls stretching up an arm. Marked. From their sheer size, to the fact that they’re doing this act of kindness for you at all…

Ah. Your savior of the hour is Garrick Tavis.

You’re not sure how this little…arrangement of yours came about. Garrick, by all means, should probably hate you for a multitude of reasons. You thought he was going to kill you the first (and only) time you actually managed to pin him during a match. Instead, though, he’d just lazily grinned up at you, his (admittedly gorgeous) hazel eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Damn,” he’d said in a low voice. “Who knew a princess could have some bite to her?”

You weren’t even sure if he actually knew your secret. The man was smart, sure, but you thought you were smarter. If he knew who you actually were, he didn’t indicate it. The nickname, the one that pissed you off to new extremes, the one he’d defaulted to using every time he had to interact with you, just felt way too intentional. 

Maybe you were just paranoid.

Glancing back up at him, you smile weakly. “Playing my saving grace again, Tavis?” you tease, wincing as you rest your head against the wall.

He half-turns, keeping you in his peripherals. “No offense, Camden, but you look like you’re about to keel over. You went down pretty hard earlier, no?”

You sigh. You supposed you probably did look like shit. You certainly felt like it. “Fair. You, uh…don’t have to do that, you know. I was about to head over to the infirmary, anyway.”

He scoffs. “Not a chance, Princess. They’re not letting us out of here for another hour, tops. No exceptions.”

Your temper flares a little. You start to rise before another bout of dizziness hits you, sending you directly back on to the ground. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

Garrick turns fully, crouching in front of you and searching your eyes to see if you were actually about to faint. Luckily for you, though, he’s tall enough that him crouching is still enough to block out most of the irritating light of the gym. 

“A lot.” He smiles slyly. “But it suits you. You’re no damsel in distress, but if you weren’t here, you’d probably be up in some manor waiting for diplomat studies. You’re pretty enough for it, at least.”

Oh, the irony. You wish you were still in diplomatic studies.

“Well, still,” you say with a scowl. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Of course.”

A beat. His eyes sparkle.

“My Queen.”

Shit. You almost choke.

“How embarrassing,” you hear your dragon muse in the back of your mind. “Say something, Ríoga. The Wind-Wielder will capitalize on any moment he catches you off-guard, you know.”

You try to slow your racing heart (whether it’s from being flustered or panicked, you can’t tell) and just raise an eyebrow, although your fingers twitch. “That has to be some form of Navarrian blasphemy.”

Garrick’s head tilts back as he laughs. “Blasphemy?” he echoes. “Hardly. If anything, it’s a prophecy.”

He leans a little closer, leaving the two of you knee-to-knee. His tone lowers. “I’m serious, Camden. You’re fucking stunning, even when you’re sort of out of it. You hate being called a princess, but it really does suit you.”

You hate that. You despise it. You’ve gone your whole life being reminded time and time again that, even if you did have that Tauri blood running through your veins, you’d never be royal. Bastards, no matter how great, no matter the good they did, no matter the legends they conceived, could never be truly royal. Not in ways that mattered.

Coming from Garrick, though…

Huh. The title felt different. Perhaps because he didn’t spit it the way other, more aware people did. He never taunted you with it, never sneered it, never looked down on you. You weren’t considered a real princess, but you could be a princess to him.

Your lips twitch. “Please. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

His expression falls into one of incredulity. “You’re kidding. Look in a damn mirror.” 

He looks as if he’s about to go on a whole rant before he’s cut off by a sharp, “Tavis! Get your ass back on the mat!”

The both of you falter for a second before you grin. “I guess that’s your cue.”

You think you catch Garrick looking slightly…disappointed before he schools his face into a teasing mask.

“Guess so,” he says before leaning a little closer. His lips brush against your temple, making your heart pound exponentially faster.

“See you around, Princess.”

[bangtanintotheroom]

On the Nose (M)

I'ma put this pussy on your face

Open up boy, come and get a taste

🔊 just wanna - iggy azalea (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: Dokyeom x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Humor, Smut, Friends to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 2.5k

• Summary: Seokmin thinks his nose might be too big. You’re quick to give him reasons as to why he’s wrong.

• Warnings/themes: insecurity, reassurance, OC with the compliments 🥹, Seokmin getting carried away, face-sitting, oral (f. receiving), groping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

• Notes: Look, all I'm going to say is that my thing for noses flares up whenever I look at DK and that was the inspo for this drabble. So sit and enjoy AJ's unhinged mind 🤪✨ thanks again to @wooahaeproductions for being an awesome beta! 💖

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you’re interested in all future fics I post!

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is my nose too big?”

Your friend’s out of nowhere question made you pause your mobile game and look up in bewilderment. You found him standing in front of his dresser, head leaned in close to the mirror.

“What? No, it’s not.”

Seokmin hummed, the tone unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You can be honest with me, y’know.”

Frowning deeply, you set your phone down and rose from the bed to walk over and stand next to him.

“Seokmin, why would I lie? Your nose is fine. Did someone say something about it?”

“No…”

His trailing off did not deter you from digging deeper.

“Seokmin.”

Your biting tone and hard stare made him flinch, not wanting to feel your wrath.

“No one said anything, per se, but they were looking. Really hard.”

“Who?”

Seokmin’s reflection shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Multiple people. We’d be having a conversation and I’d just notice their eyes going to my nose at some point.”

His explanation gave you some clarity now, but were they really thinking negative thoughts about it? You couldn’t understand why the poor guy was so concerned about his nose all of a sudden. To you, it was one of his best features.

Yes, he had a blinding smile. Yes, you would kill to have his cheekbones. Yes, he was just a handsome guy in general.

But having a dignified and regal nose increased his looks by at least fifty percent (if you were being modest).

It just suited him so well that you couldn’t picture him with anything more basic or minuscule. Anything less pointy and upright would not fit Lee Seokmin.

“Seokmin, maybe they were looking because they like it.”

Your friend turned away from the mirror to study you with interest.

“You think so?”

You gazed up at him confidently.

“I know so.”

“But don’t people usually prefer smaller noses?”

A scoff left before you explained, “Fuck what beauty standards say, I think big noses are one of the best things anyone could have. Think about it. When people get plastic surgery, they can only go smaller, not bigger, right?”

”Right…”

“So it’s something that’s natural and only special people are blessed with! Like yourself!”

Your reassurance was paired with a tap to said special feature, pulling a bright grin from Seokmin.

“Y/N, you know just how to cheer me up, don’t you?”

“Of course, dummy. That’s what friends are for!”

The both of you giggled, the atmosphere lighter than before due to your affirmations. It felt good to ease his worries, but as you laughed, one last fact came to your brain.

It wasn’t as innocent as the previous ones, but it was a truth for you. One you had personal experience with on more than one occasion.

“Seokmin.”

“Hm?”

“You know what else big noses are really good for?”

Seokmin’s dark brown eyes watched you with curiosity and a hint of eagerness.

“What?”

You looked up at him, face blank like a sheet of paper.

“Sitting on.”

He became a cartoon character immediately, eyes bugging and mouth flying open to let out a yelp while his hands covered his ears.

“Y/N! What?!”

“Hey—” You reached up to rip his palms down so he could hear properly. “—it’s true!”

“Is it, you…you…pervert? Or are you just making things up to make me feel better?!”

A scowl came across your face as you lightly punched his arm.

“I’m serious, idiot! Have you never heard of a girl using someone’s nose to get off?”

“No! Well, I mean, maybe, but I wasn’t paying attention if anyone did say that.”

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and readied yourself to continue convincing him.

“It’s true, okay?”

Seokmin blinked before squinting his eyes.

“And who’s your source?”

You met him with nothing but passiveness.

“Me, myself and I.”

All he could do was gape at you like a fish, stunned that you were revealing such an intimate secret about yourself.

Now, you were used to Seokmin’s dramatic reactions to mundane or extreme situations, but he usually did it out of fun. Yet something about the way his eyes darted all over your face told you that it was genuine astonishment he gave.

Which led to you challenging, “What, you’ve never had anyone sit on your face before?”

“No!”

Huh. Shocker.

“Really?”

His frantic nod only made your brows raise in wonder. It was a shame that this man had never been privy to the act. God strategically placed his nose at such an angle to reach crevices deep within women and it was being wasted for everything else but that.

An idea began brewing in you, wanting to convince him that he was missing out on something fun.

Licking your lips, you cocked your head to the side and let your suggestion out.

“Wanna try?”

Seokmin became too stunned to speak. All he could do was sputter at your offer.

“I— Y/N, you—!”

“Seokmin, I’m serious. It’s an experience.”

The way you grinned slyly was akin to suggesting your friend cut class with you, not let you use his face as a grinding pad.

“How am I going to convince you if you won’t let me sit on your face?”

Seokmin’s ajar mouth finally shut, jaw clenched as he looked you over from head to toe, gauging the seriousness of your offer. He saw little deceit and seemed to relax a bit.

“Y/N…would you really do that?”

You nodded.

“If it’ll make you feel better about your nose, absolutely. You’re welcome to say no if you don’t want to, though.”

The other pulled in his lower lip as he mulled over his answer. You were middle of the road right now. If he said no, you would take no offense and carry on like nothing happened. But if he said yes…

“Then…let’s try it.”

Oh. Neat!

Smiling in triumph, you held your arm out towards the bed.

“Go get comfortable.”

Seokmin’s lips quirked lightly at your instructions, walking over to lie on his back in the middle of the mattress. His head lifted to peer at you with query.

“Is this a good position?”

“Perfect. You’re a beginner, so it’s best if you stay completely flat.”

Humming at your reasoning, his eyes widened when your hands reached for your bottoms, undoing them as if you were undressing at the end of a long day. You saw him visibly swallow when your pants pooled around your ankles. But then he clutched the sheets when your fingers crept under the elastic of your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Seokmin tried his best to look less petrified as you looked up after stepping out of your clothes and walked over. Climbing onto the bed, you kneeled next to his torso, raising a brow down at him.

“Ready for me?”

An audible gulp came from your friend before he nodded quickly. With a sigh, you eased, “I’m not gonna suffocate you. Relax.”

The reminder seemed to lessen his nerves as he laid back again, giving you a jerk of his chin. The invitation prompted you to straddle his chest and keep an eye on his facial expression, only to catch him staring between your legs.

“What?”

Seokmin’s cheeks reddened before he shook his head quickly. “N-Nothing. So how does this go?”

“Literally just eat me out like you would with any other girl. But throw your nose into the mix.”

“Like, nudge you with it?”

“Mhm. Just follow your instincts, there’s not much wrong you can do with it.”

The man underneath you nodded before taking in a deep breath. As soon as he motioned you to scoot up with his eyes, you moved forward to hover over his lips. Trusting your core to keep you balanced, you let out your own held breath.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Seokmin gave a thumbs up, waiting until you lowered down so your folds were a whisper away from his mouth. He leaned up to brush his lips against them, the light touch making your spine straighten. It felt as if he was testing the waters, wanting to see just how sensitive you were. But he didn’t wait long to up the pressure, pulling the quietest of gasps out.

“Better?”

You would’ve giggled at the way his voice came out somewhat muffled if it wasn’t for the warmth starting to build in your gut.

“Yeah. Just do what you usually do, ‘Min.”

“Let me know if I have to switch it up.”

He returned to work, bringing his tongue into the mix to trace up and down. A louder noise came from your mouth at the thorough sensation, eyes fluttering. The question of whether Lee Seokmin was good at oral never crossed your mind, but now the answer was going to remain cemented in there.

Especially when the appendage sunk in between to run up and down your entrance.

“Oh shit—”

You were too distracted to see Seokmin’s eyes crinkle at your low moan, continuing the action to be rewarded with more. But after a while of this, you remembered the main reason why this was even happening in the first place. Swallowing a sound, you croaked out, “Seokmin.”

“Mm?”

“Your nose—”

The reminder had him make what you imagined was a noise of realization. And just like you wanted, the end of something soft yet sharp nudged your swollen clit.

“Ah— There you go.”

You gave encouragement, hoping it would push your friend to use his God-given gift to the fullest. It took some time, but Seokmin nuzzled the bud harder while simultaneously working his tongue below. Your warmth expanded into a tingling heat that traveled up and down your spine and into your fingers and toes, soft pants beginning to fall from your agape mouth.

You weren’t sure how long he had been at it, but you began to feel the telltale signs of a climax approaching. Not wanting to throw him off his game, you bit your tongue and allowed yourself to continue enjoying this experience of Seokmin learning the benefits of having a perfectly sculpted nose.

As the throes of ecstasy began to wash over your body, you hoped that he would carry this lesson through the rest of his life to treat any lucky girl.

Panting softly as you came down, the attention between your legs paused for a bit. But just as you were about to climb off and congratulate your friend for a job well done, the motions started up again, forcing you to gasp in sensitivity.

“’Min, what are you—”

A harsh bump to your still throbbing clit interrupted your query and a poke to your twitching cunt silenced you completely. All you could do was sit above Seokmin in utter shock as he continued to please you with his mouth.

Your complete surprise melted the further he went, brain shutting down to simply enjoy what he was giving you. At one point, you felt vibrations and started to hear something akin to mumbling from between your legs.

“Huh?”

The vibrations went on, but you still couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Seokmin, I can’t hear you, stop for a second.”

What might have been a groan sounded against your slick folds before Seokmin pulled back to husk out, “Sit on my tongue.”

Your mouth dropped, stunned at the request and the way he stuck out said muscle between his slick-coated lips.

But your hips went on autopilot and moved forward to grant him his wish. As soon as you sat down, the desire to use his tongue as a grinding pad came over. It seemed to be a wise choice as you could feel the strongest vibration so far against your pussy.

Seokmin surprised you again when one of his hands moved from the bed to rest on your waist before sliding over and up your torso. It seemed to be on autopilot as it aimed to touch your covered breast, only stopping short just as his fingertips were about to brush the bottom curve. Clicking your tongue at his unwanted hesitation, you covered his palm with your own and brought it to its intended destination.

“Don’t hold back.”

As soon as you let go, Seokmin took your command and ran to the bank with it. Long fingers groped and massaged at the mound, making your back arch in enjoyment. Enjoyment that pushed you higher and higher to another precipice, faster than before. While you trembled above your friend, you couldn’t believe that he kept this up. You figured that once would be enough to prove your point, but he just would not stop.

He continued even after you came for the second time, giving everything he had. You could feel yourself hurtling towards a third orgasm as Seokmin wouldn’t let you be. But when the tip of his nose felt too pointy and the flat of his tongue too rough for your sensitive folds, you decided to put an end to the experience.

“S-Stop—“

Pointless. He just kept going.

Stifling a whimper of discomfort, you were forced to reach down and pull at his dark brown locks.

“Christ, Seokmin, stop!”

Finally, your prayers were heard. Seokmin winced at your tug and removed his mouth from you to gape incredulously.

“Yah, why’d you stop me?”

You ignored the unusually titillating rasp of his voice to scowl down.

“I think you proved my point…too many times!”

Your emphasis was supported with a flick to his wet nose.

“You trying to kill me?!”

“No! I just got caught up in the moment! I’m sorry.”

The genuine remorse in his explanation made you relax a bit, soothing his scalp with a gentle ruffle of his hair.

“It’s alright, ‘Min. You did good…too good.”

As expected, Seokmin’s smile outshone the sun itself, thanks to your praise.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Returning the grin, you realized that you should give your friend some breathing room and climbed off to lay next to him, a tingle still present in your toes.

“So what have we learned today?”

Seokmin puckered his lips as he looked up in thought.

“I learned that my nose is big, but there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Um…that I can use it when I’m eating someone out.”

Your lips tilted.

“Go on.”

A melodic hum came as he continued to rack his brain.

“Mm…oh! How could I forget the most important one?”

You watched as his head turned to fixate you with a sweet grin.

“If I’m ever feeling insecure about anything, I can come to you for help.”

His answer made you smile wide, heart warming at how at ease he seemed to be now. Granted, you never expected to sit on his face, but if it made him feel better, you’d do it a hundred times over.

“Anything for you, ‘Min.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[bueckersbitch]

Grace and Grit - paige bueckers x oc

chapter four: so high school

𐙚 grace and grit masterlist

𐙚 characters: hopkins!paige x oc

𐙚 warnings: none!

𐙚 word count: 2.4k

𐙚 authors note: here it is!! long awaited and i’m so sorry i haven’t put out a new chapter, life caught up to me unfortunately. anyway in this au larkin dance studio is in hopkins and jalen goes to school with paige. this is all fiction!!! enjoy <3

𐙚 taglist: @rosemariiaa @thaatdigitaldiary @pboogerswbb @sierrale8ne @lupinqs @xxloveralways14 @vamptizm @bueckersfive @lovegalor333 @d3arapril @mrsarnold @janaelalfysblunt

The consistent hum of Blaire’s alarm woke her from dreamland. Her last first day. One more year, then she wouldn’t have to step foot in her confining high school ever again.

Blaire brings her hands up to rub her eyes, trying to exude sleep from herself. After failed attempts to wake her up, defeated, Blaire gets up slowly, trudging her way over to her vanity. Sitting down in the pink padded chair. Her seventeen years of dance experience had trained her makeup skills, the requirement of knowing how to do a full face in less than ten minutes was something she had to learn how to do on her own. While her dance friends sat restless in front of their moms at the ripe age of eight, getting their makeup done and being gushed over, Blaire simply watched, longed, and yearned for that experience that was stripped away from her. But she was never one to complain, so she did it on her own, learning how to contour, winged eyeliner, and apply false lashes all by the time she was nine.

Blaire turned her vanity mirror light on, the soft white illuminating her puffy face. She reached for her skincare, the coolness of the serums and moisturizers working to depuff her face. Swiping on some concealer, bronzer, blush, and mascara, was all Blaire could bring herself to do. Shoving herself up from her vanity, she goes to brush her teeth, breakfast in the morning makes her sick. The fresh mint hit her teeth, a slow moment finally found after a rushed morning, but when her mind slowed, she could only think of one thing, well, one person, Paige.

She recalled that night in the ice cream shop, a small gesture, sure. But Blaire had never experienced someone so interested in her before. Everything was perfect, like everything Blaire had been waiting for in a girlfriend was presented to her in a beautiful, bubbly, blonde, package. Blaire tried to focus on the task at hand, she really did. But something about the thought of the way Paige’s eyes scrunched up when she smiled, and the way her cheeks showed a tinge of pink whenever she looked at Blaire, was enough for Blaire to lose track of time. Glancing at the clock, Blaire was now off schedule, running late by three minutes. She quickly spits into the sink, swishing mouthwash into her mouth before expelling that from her mouth as well.

Blaire stumbles on her rug, grabbing onto the door frame as she drives herself into her closet. Regaining her balance, she flicks the light on. Pink bow wallpaper adorns the four walls. She reaches for the outfit she had picked out last night, black flare leggings, a white tank top, a light grey shrug, and a black headband. Boring, maybe, but Blaire couldn’t really care less what people thought of her outfit.

Blaire slid on her shrug, the last piece of her outfit. Realizing she had a bit of down time before she had to leave, she wonders if she should peek at Paige’s socials, something she had been doing a bit too much recently. It’s almost as if her fingers have a mind of their own, skidding across the screen to pull up Paige’s profile before she could even finish her thought.

She studied her profile. In a way, it almost exactly mirrored Blaire’s. A different sport, of course. But the posts wishing her friends happy birthday, photos from past state championships, the trophy being held up to the sky, ones where her and her teammates are biting their medals. Blaire knew the feeling all too well. It was just an instagram profile, but the memories of Paige’s time in high school flood her phone. It was sweet, the way she looked so intimidating on the court, her taunts cracking the confidence of her opponents, all for her to really just be a normal girl going through high school.

—

It was the end of fifth period now, Blaire’s AP Chemistry class ending with her teacher wishing them a good rest of their first day. It was lunch period now, all of Blaire’s friends either had schedules that let them out early, or a different lunch period. Blaire scratched her scalp, a consistent throbbing settling into the rear of her head. Continual reviews of class syllabi meant her teachers repeating the same rules like a mantra, late work policies, honor code, extra credit assignments, and test outlines were all things Blaire had grown bored of. Sighing, she hops down from the stool, picking up her Larkin Dance Studio backpack, the thread at the straps fraying from being her companion the last three years. Blaire stilled, the air around her restricting her, but also allowing her a chance to breathe. She moves one ugg clad foot in front of the other, making her way to the door, annunciating a quick “Have a good day Mr. Stone.” with a smile, pushing the door handle and stepping out into the hallway.

It was overwhelming, really. Looking out into the hallway. Blaire had navigated these hallways more times than she could count, but something about the masses of people bumping into each other, clueless as to where they were going, hurdled her anxiety into overdrive. All she needed to do was walk herself to her car, where she would eat her lunch, after, she had two more periods. Almost to the finish line, the wiring of school could be erased from her mind when she stepped back into her studio, being able to regain her consciousness.

Blaire gripped her phone in her hands tightly, her earbuds in her ears as an attempt to drown out the surrounding noise. It was no use though, the shrieking of high pitched voices cut through her soft music like nails on a chalkboard. In the midst of all the chaos, Blaire swears she hears her name called out. Glancing around, she’s met with nothing but bodies of teenagers. Brushing it off, Blaire keeps moving, shuffling slowly towards the doors that lead out to the parking lot.

Blaire feels a tug at her shoulder, yanking her earbuds out from her ears, turning to see what the fuss was about. Instead, she’s met with the smile and scrunched eyes she had been musing about in the earliest hours of the day. Paige and Blaire’s schedules had matched up for one period so far, study hall. Now, it seems that they had lunch together too.”Blaire! Who are you sitting with at lunch?” A curious Paige asked, Jalen poking her arm, ushering her towards a clear path to the doors. “I was just planning on sitting in my car, all my friends have different lunches.” Blaire responded with. Before she could register what was happening, she felt the comforting warmth of Paige’s fingers wrapping around hers, subtly dragging her along with herself and Jalen, while saying, “S’You’re sitting with us in my car now.” Blaire couldn’t help the soft smile that wound up on her face, her cheeks heating up at the kind gesture by the girl, something that hadn’t happened since their study hall during third period.

The three of them walked together to Paige’s car, Jalen walking backwards in front of them to talk to the two girls. “Soooooo… You’re Blaire, right?” He started. Paige groaned, trying to shut him down with a, “Jalen, bro.” while her hand ran over her face. Blaire observed the two, she knew what it meant, Jalen, Paige’s best friend, knowing who she was. Blaire pushed the thoughts of her heart gushing to the back of her mind, trying to focus on not messing up first impressions.

“The one and only, and you’re Jalen?” Paige’s eyes peek from in between her fingers, widened at the fact Blaire wasn’t weirded out by the prodding. Blaire wasn’t weirded out, in fact, she was overjoyed by the fact she seemed important enough to Paige to be mentioned to her closest friend. The boy smiles, his hands in his pockets, “Sure am, hear you’re a dancer. You tryna do that in college?” Blaire nods, “God Willing, something about Juilliard is calling me, but it’s nice to know I have U of Minny and Ohio State as cushion if that plan falls through.” Jalen’s mouth drops open at that, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, “Damn, so you’re like, good good, then?” Paige smiles, wrapping an arm around Blaire, patting her head with the other, “Hey! I told you she was good. You doubting me is disrespectful.” The blonde says. Blaire shrugs, slightly surprised by the fact Jalen even knows how major of a deal both colleges are. “You could say that. How do you know about dance anyway?” Jalen responds without a beat, “I got sisters, they don’t dance but they like watching uda nationals.” Blaire smiles, it seemed being welcoming was something prominent found in Paige’s friends too.

As they got to Paige’s car, Jalen started to swing around to the passenger side, a routine perfected since Paige got her license. He whips his head around though, the blonde pointing at him saying, “Jalen, you’re sitting in the back.” Jalen’s face showed confusion, Blaire didn’t want to intrude, so she tugs at Paige’s shirt, “Hey, I can sit in the back, it’s okay.” She assured. Paige let out a laugh at that, an obvious fake one, “collecting” herself, she turns to Blaire, telling her, “You gotta be crazy, what kinda host would I be if I didn’t let you sit in the passenger seat?” Blaire scoffs, but under the front she put up, she liked the fact Paige was so persistent with her, really liked it. “Host? It’s your car.” Blaire said with a playful attitude. Paige cocks her head, “Whatever.” She says to the dark haired girl.

“Ooo, P’s got a crushhhh.” Jalen gets out, the two girls' eyes break away from each other, pulling to look at the boy waiting outside the back car door. “Seriously, stop.” Paige says, annoyed.

–

The loudspeaker starts up, it was eighth period, Paige sat clad in her Nike shirt and basketball shorts, Playing with the loose string that had managed to unravel from the hem of her shirt. Her calculus teacher was cut off by the announcement, “Good Afternoon Royals! I am overjoyed to welcome you all back to campus!...” Paige tuned out the voice of her principal, opting to look around at her classmates around her, all working on the pre-assessment for the class. Her eyes are drawn to the bulletin board, full of clubs and different volunteer opportunities. But one poster stands out, a specific dark haired girl that had been consuming her thoughts. Her teeth in a smile as the words around her talked about a dance gala, auctions being held at it to raise money for cancer research. Paige took a mental note of it, being snapped back to reality when she heard the euphony of backpack zippers, “Just like always, seniors will be dismissed first, if you’re a senior, you may make your way over to your car now!” Paige closed her eyes for a moment, the stress easing away from her as realization dawned upon her. She made it through the first day.

Pulling out her phone, she makes a new group chat with Blaire and Jalen, shooting a text about grabbing food at Panda Express, the Chinese food sounding awfully good to soothe the hunger that had settled into her stomach, she didn’t eat during her lunch period, wanting to talk Blaire’s ear off as much as possible in the allotted time.

–

Paige rushes towards the door, wanting to reach it before Blaire, stumbling over her excited feet, she yanks the door open, flashing a smile and wiggling her eyebrows at Blaire.

Jalen had gotten roped into helping his parents with stuff at home, but the two girls decided to grab food before Blaire’s practice anyway, the two of them both agreeing that Panda Express sounded too good to pass up.

Paige watches Blaire order, a simple bowl of white rice with some honey sesame chicken, and while she trains her ears on what Blaire was ordering, she couldn’t help but notice the small details about the girl beside her. How her nose moved slightly while she talked, her hands picking at the nail polish that slightly flooded over the sides, her legs crossed, and her eyes squinting to see the menu a little better. The truth is, Paige hadn’t felt this in a long time, her last relationship had lasted a while, but honestly the two of them had been done for a while, just not having the guts to call it quits, Paige was dragged through an emotional rollercoaster, but the familiarity of it comforted her enough to get her to stay. That was over now though, Paige felt grateful that it was, because the girl in front of her was so intriguing to her, she hadn’t known her for long, but she wanted to peel back all her layers.

Paige and Blaire slid into high stools, well, Blaire had slid onto her stool, and Paige had sat right next to her, scooching hers close enough for their legs to touch. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Blaire said, referring to when they were up at the register. Paige shoved her card into the reader before Blaire could pull out her wallet, murmuring a slick, “You don’t gotta pay when you’re with me ma.” Paige shovels her food into her mouth, swallowing and licking her lips, “Stop pretending like you don’t like it.” Blaire rolls her eyes at that.

Paige holds the trash can open, Blaire disposes her bowl and fork. “Sooooo… I know parties aren’t your thing, but you gotta come to senior bonfire. It’s tradition” Paige perks up as she says this, hoping that Blaire will cave in. “Paige, you know I don’t do well with those kinds of things, too much opportunity for things to go wrong.” Blaire reasons, Paige fakes a pout, “Oh c’monnnnn, if you worry too much about ‘what can go wrong’ you’ll miss out on experiences that’ll go right!” Blaire gives a puzzled look to the taller girl. “Okay, that didn’t really make sense, but you get what I mean.” Paige answers to Blaire’s questioning look, Paige is persistent, tugging on Blaire’s shrug sleeve while repeating the word “please” more than one should say in a lifetime. “OKAY! Fine, I’ll go, but you have to promise to stay with me. If something happens, I’ll never forgive you.” Blaire pointedly says. Paige’s hands shoot up in defense, silence between them before a notification sounds from Paige’s phone, “Deal.” The blonde says, smiling in triumph.

[kumkaniudaku]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: Terry and Nyla work together to bring Patrice some Christmas cheer.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Language

Previous: Back Up

Santa came down the chimney 

Half past three, y'all 

Left all them a good ol' present 

For my baby and for me, ha, ha, ha

Terry bopped his head along to Otis Redding’s classic playing from some soul Christmas station he found on Spotify as he examined his handiwork with a mouth full of baby fingers and no idea what he was doing. 

When he set off to decorate the house on Patrice’s behalf, he hadn’t considered all of the meticulous planning that went into her creating their personal Winter Wonderland. Ribbons needed careful tying to make beautiful bows. Garlands he thought could be tossed on any surface he chose required deliberate care to achieve their festive flare. And, to his surprise, Christmas trees out of the box did not come pre-fluffed.

He was so confident that he could start and finish his side project in his mother’s final hour of childcare that he didn’t change out of his office attire. The tightness of a half-buttoned polo and stiff slacks with a sleepy little girl cradled in the crook of his arm reminded him of just how wrong he was.

Clear bins labeled by function and location crowded their quaint living room with Patrice’s arrival coming quicker than he was prepared for. He squinted at the tree, trying to understand how he’d managed to put every single ornament on only the front while leaving the back side bare. The sensation of Nyla’s fingers tightening their grip on his bottom lip brought his attention from the eye sore he’d created to the four-month-old with her mother’s smile. He pretended to gnaw on her hands. 

“What you looking at, girl, hm? You watching Daddy tear up Mommy’s tree?”

Sleepy baby giggles lit up her round face and dark eyes as her pacifier bobbed in her mouth, thoroughly entertained by her father’s voice and smile. He leaned down to kiss her forehead before smoothing a hand over her soft hair. 

“Hopefully she likes it. Mama hasn’t been feeling like herself so we gotta bring the Christmas joy for her. What you think? Did I do a good job?” He adjusted Nyla in his arms to turn her toward the tree for her opinion. She squirmed in his grip, whining and fussing before releasing a small cry as the only way to communicate that she’d seen enough. He took the hint with a chuckle. “Oh-kay. You are Patrice’s child, I’ll tell you that.”

With Nyla providing lively company, Terry adjusted and re-adjusted earth-toned ornaments of all sizes in a failing attempt to salvage his surprise. She cooed along to Terry’s chatter about work, music, and life, offering commentary here and there like a child who’d been speaking for years.

He listened to her grunt and kick at the mention of watching football on Sunday and smiled. “Maybe me and you can go to a game together one day. Don’t get your hopes up for the Panthers being good though baby girl.”

Nyla laughed as if she understood Terry’s jokes, making him laugh in response. From the foyer, their back and forth sounded perfectly ridiculous to Patrice’s already scrambled mind. Motherhood had come with an unexpected price. Every day came with the overwhelming responsibility of balancing work and home life. Months away from her desk only to return during the end of semester swirl made reaclimating to eight hours away from home grueling. Her emotions were a jumbled mess that she traversed on a fraying tightrope. Exhaustion was her default setting these days. No matter how much her family assisted her, there were never enough hours in the day. 

A sigh of relief rushed between parted lips as she pressed her back against the front door to seal her home from the frigid early evening wind. A single minute of tranquility couldn’t erase the day she’d had, but it came close. The rest needed the help of her two favorite people in the world. 

The alarm’s chime stopped Nyla and Terry’s conversation, alerting them to their queen’s arrival. 

“Petey! You’re home,” Terry exclaimed from the living room. 

Patrice scoffed and rolled her eyes as she placed bags on the ground. “Don’t play with me, Terrence. I don’t wanna have to knock you out in front of your best friend.”

“I’m not worried about it. She got my back. Right, MiMi? You got Daddy’s back?” Patrice smiled at Nyla’s squeal in response, listening and watching it intensify as Terry appeared in the foyer. 

His standing there, tall and thick with a baby carefully balanced in his arms and an incredible softness in his eyes, instantly awakened senses that had long taken the day off. 

“How you doin’, beautiful?” 

“I was exhausted until I saw you. You married or just out here fine for no reason?”

He chuckled at her shameless flirting and flashed his ring. “Happily married. She a little off in the head too, so be careful.” 

“That was perfect. Make sure you say it just like that every time.” 

Terry closed the gap between them, pressing quick kisses to her forehead and lips as he helped her shrug out of her coat with his free hand. 

“Was your day okay,” he asked, a hand gripping her elbow to hold her steady while she kicked off her boots. She shrugged. 

“I didn’t feel like crying by the end so that’s a step up, right?”

“Sure, but I don’t want sad at all. Is there anything I can do?”

Patrice attempted to answer Terry’s concern with a weak smile. “No, but I appreciate you lookin’ out for me. I’ll get better. For now, let's talk about this smiling girl instead. Come here, my sunshine!” 

Nyla kicked her little feet and panted from excitement as she transitioned from one set of arms to the next. She worked overtime to ward off sleep for dueling kisses on both cheeks from doting parents elated to have their baby girl earth side. 

Terry pulled away from family time to collect the heap of bags left by the door. “What’s all this?” 

“Just me tryin’ to find some Christmas cheer. I figured we could bake some cookies with Ny before she goes to bed. Then we can have a drink, order in, and watch a movie or something? I don’t know. Tell me if that sounds stupid.” 

Uncertainty was thick in her delivery. She hadn’t been sure of anything in the past four months. Herself, her parenting skills, being a good wife, her teaching - nothing. The need for validation was growing more dire by the day. 

“We can do whatever you want, baby. I’ll dress up like Santa if you need me to.”

His affirmation came with a gentle kiss and a slight squeeze to her backside that made her giggle like a teenager in the presence of her crush. “Thank you, Pooh. You hear that, Naomi? Daddy’s gonna dress up like Santa and let Mommy sit on his lap.”

“That ain’t all Mommy can sit on but we have to wait until you’re asleep for that part.” His joke came with a suggestive eyebrow raise that incited a hearty guffaw and butterflies in Patrice’s belly. She leaned in to rest her forehead on his chest for as much touch as she could handle. He rested his chin atop her head to speak. “There’s a surprise for you in the living room if you’re up for it.”  

“Does this surprise have something to do with my baby being drenched in all this glitter?”

“No. That’s courtesy of her grandma and her outfit earlier today. You know your mama loves sparkles.”

Patrice attempted to dust silver flecks from Nyla’s face to no avail. “Then lay it on me. I’m ready to be surprised. At least I think. I never know when you two get in cahoots.” 

True enough. Terry and Nyla usually found a way to cause havoc, whether in the middle of the night with a dance party or throughout the day with a host of loud distractions. Terry couldn’t deny his propensity to look for trouble with his partner in crime, but he could convince Patrice that, this time, their mischief was something she’d enjoy. 

Carefully, he pulled Nyla from Patrice’s arms and led her into the living room with strict instructions to keep her eyes covered until he gave her permission. Anticipation had Patrice nervously bouncing from foot to foot while she waited for the signal. Nothing in her immediate area gave away what she might see on the other side of an extended blink. There were no smells outside of something hearty with a hint of spice simmering nearby. The soft murmur of what sounded like Christmas music didn’t seem out of place. She attempted to feel for clues with one hand out in front but came up empty. 

“Can I open my eyes now,” she asked for the third time. 

Terry chuckled as he positioned her in the center of the room. “You’re so impatient, baby.” 

“Now, don’t make me start on you. We just had our first wedding anniversary on our original wedding date but I’m impatient?” 

“Yeah, yeah. Open your eyes before you go too far.”

All of Patrice’s smug laughter slowed to a halt as her eyes feasted on every detail in the room. Crooked garlands dusted in artificial snow adorned the fireplace. Gaps in the Christmas tree created portals to the blank wall behind it. Ornaments sat jumbled together with no rhyme or reason. The skirt meant to hide the unsightly plastic tree stand was comically flipped inside out. Her Christmas star, passed down from her mama’s mama sat glittering under soft white light, waiting to take its rightful place on top of her most eclectic tree to date. 

Each imperfection made her heart swell ten times its size, creating a steady stream of tears that coated her cheeks. 

She released a shaky breath, the sound betraying the emotions she attempted to keep at bay while she marveled at the tree with her back turned to her helpers. “Oh wow. You did all this for me?” 

“When I told Ny how much you love Christmas she was like, ‘Dad, we should do something for Mommy since we love her so much.’ It was all her idea. I only opened my wallet. And put stuff together. And held her the whole time because she hates her mat.”

“Yeah,” she asked, laughing to release nerves and wiping at her face as she finally turned to face them. “You talk that much, little girl?” 

“Oh, she’s a great conversationalist. Give her a little formula and she’ll yap all day.”

Patrice stepped closer to rub her nose across her daughter's cheek, inhaling the fresh baby scent that never failed to calm her often racing thoughts.

“This is…so sweet. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” she started. “It’s been kinda tough to get excited this go round. I can’t really find that spark like before and I’m trying so hard.”

“I know. You’re doing a great job, Mama. A perfect job. I wouldn’t wanna be doing all this with anybody else,” Terry reassured while he pulled her into a hug. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing with all the love in her body when no words could get past the heavy lump in her throat. The leak in her emotional dam had erupted into a crater, turning small tears into a near sob that made her head hurt. She’d cried all of her sadness away in the dead of night or when sitting in traffic between work and home. This was happiness. An unmistakable joy and gratefulness for being blessed beyond her wildest imagination. 

Terry didn’t intervene or coax her into deep breaths to stop her crying. Instead, he held her close with one arm and alternated loving pecks between her head and Nyla’s face as the infant rested on his shoulder for comfort. Her tiny hand reached out to leave little pats against Patrice’s forehead, finally making her giggle as her crying paused. 

“You’re right. Mommy needs to get it together,” she laughed. “I’m killin’ the vibe big time.”

Terry chuckled. “MiMi cried when I showed her, too. Is this a happy cry or do you hate it?”

“I love it and I love y’all. So much. So, so much.”

“We love you more than we can put into words. You know, since one of us literally can’t talk.” 

Patrice's belly laugh made Terry grin from ear to ear in triumph. His chief concern was bringing her happiness, even if only for a few hours. He’d take today as a win and try to top it for the rest of his life. 

Wiping fresh tears from her eyes, she took a deep breath and received another whiff of the aroma wafting from the kitchen reminding her that she was starving from a day of educating the leaders of tomorrow. She hummed at the smell with her eyes closed. “Why didn’t you say you cooked? What is that? It smells good.”

“That is your other surprise. Think about it and tell me what you think it could be.” 

Hints of cayenne and the spice of fresh jalapenos made her nose tingle. Something warm and sweet followed as the perfect accessory to the savoriness commanding attention. The smell felt familiar. It felt like her childhood. It felt like home. 

Her eyes shot open and up to his in sudden realization. “Daddy’s chili! Really? Is that what that is?”

“I owe him some help in the shed but it’s worth it for you. Hope it brings back some magic for you.” Patrice stared at Terry, eyes misty and lips drooping in a deep frown that confused him. “Wait, what did I -”

“Oh my God, whyareyousoperfect!?” 

All of her words came out in another muffled sob as she dramatically buried her face into his chest. He couldn’t help but tease her, whispering comments about her theatrics and how she could’ve been a movie star from her ability to burst into hysterics at the drop of a hat. 

Drooping eyelids from their pride and joy forced them to share hushed laughter while Patrice regained enough of her composure to help add the finishing touches to their first Christmas display as a unit. Watching Patrice gently bounce Nyla to sleep while she adjusted ornaments and decor to her liking filled Terry with enough warm fuzzies to make him blink back emotions he didn’t know he had brewing. 

He had a family.

For all the ups, downs, and haymakers life had thrown him, he had two people looking up at him like the sun rose and set in his eyes. The thought alone took him back to his first time in the same spot with a pecan pie and a carefully wrapped gift in his hands. 

Terry slowly approached Patrice from behind to assist her in the effort to place the topper where it belonged. “Remember our first Christmas together?” 

“The one when you stayed too long and had your mama worried,” she laughed. “Yeah, I remember. Now look at you. Still over here after all this time.”

“I always knew what and who I wanted.” His declaration came with silly, loud smooches to her exposed neck while they wiggled the star into place atop the tree.  

Perfection. Patrice smiled at their joint effort and the feel of Terry holding her and Nyla close. She angled her head to watch him shower their little one in soft kisses.

“Hey,” she called to get his attention. “Merry Christmas, baby. Thank you. For everything.” 

He met her thanks with a tender kiss and the gentle graze of his lips against hers, sharing a silent conversation between lovers that needed no explanation. 

“Of course. Merry Christmas, honey.”

-----

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[hoseoksluna]

MIST | myg ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!yoongi x oc (feat. jungkook)

genre: angst, smut

word count: 11.3k

summary: one encounter with jungkook makes you forget about your boyfriend.

playlist: mist / pinterest board: mist

warnings: the unfolding of polyamory, provocation, cuckold kink, cum eating, oc and yoongi fight, use of vulgar names, mentions of female masturbation, punishment, spanking, hair pulling, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, nipple play, disobedience, use of a sex toy, multiple orgasms, yoongi isn't comfortable with a certain sexual practice at first, spit kink, oc feels pain and likes it

note: it's here, you guys oh my god. this is part two of STEAM. i thought this would have only two parts, but when i got to the end, it was evident that it needs another one. i worked hard on this, guys. if you haven't read my little updates, i was literally sick today and threw up my breakfast, but i still somehow managed to get this writing done, so make sure you let me know how much you love this, hate this, what you expect and what you're feeling. pls!!! my inbox is open for you always x enjoy reading, love you all. ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

side note: HOBI'S NEW ALBUM IS OUT SLDKFJSDLFJSFJSLDF.

The night is feverish. 

So much that small pearls of its perspiration settle over the arc of your hand, between your thumb and your index, peeking from beneath the enfolding of your crossed legs. It’s as if the darkened heavens were hot and bothered while eavesdropping on the conversation you’re having with the two males sitting by the table, one right next to you and the other across from you. Even the clouds have halted their drift and the stars… they haven’t dared to blink, focused entirely on the question slipping from the mouth of the male you’ve known the least amount of time. 

Is this gonna be a one time thing? 

You will your mind to be empty, for if you allow yourself to think about it, your answer is as clear as the flare of those lights above. And you don’t want to voice out how much you like the idea of the sex being continual in fear of being turned down, in fear of Jungkook wanting this to be a one night only matter. What’s worse, you’re terrified of awakening Yoongi’s wrath. You believe the wine in your hand is the only bitterness you can manage to swallow. 

Oh.

You chuckle. 

A mist blankets your shoulders, the softest of summer drizzles. A briskness that steals your attention from the double meaning swarming in your brain. But when you lift your eyes to welcome in the small rain, it’s Jungkook’s gaze that you meet. Dark eyelashes, heavied down by the weight of the half-drunk bottle of red that you and him have been drinking. An ivory swirl of brightness glossing over dilated pupils, fixated on you. On your own blurry left eye, the sheen of your mouth, past your neck to the shimmery glow of your collarbones and your right eye. The coldness of the mist thickens, yet it’s not the reason behind your gooseflesh. No, it’s quite far from it. 

What roughens your skin is that very intentional stare. The slight narrowness to his once perpetually round eyes as he, for a mere second, shifts his gaze from your boyfriend back to you, adamantly expecting a response, one you refuse to have. It’s such a stark change to his countenance that, besides being stirred by it, you’re completely in awe of it. The smooth forehead, the slightly raised brow and smug mouth, now adorned with a lip ring that wasn’t there before. You don’t find the good man with purity in his eyes that, days ago, made a ruckus out of your life sitting before you, but someone else entirely. 

A man, whose arousal emanates out of him like fragrance, seeping into your fresh mango scent scattered along the perimeters of your skin. 

A man, like Yoongi had predicted, came to you like a puppy through him, asking you out for dinner. 

Horny puppy. You squeeze your legs, hiding your faint smile behind the rim of your wine glass, tilting the carmine nectar into your mouth. Jungkook examines the bobble of your throat, the dart of your tongue as the muscle drifts across the rosy brownness of your bottom lip and you’re heedful of it—a moonlight personified, the mist around you like the clouds clinging to that planetary body.

Jungkook calls you by your name. “What’s funny?” 

A momentary stillness. You thought your soft laughter was unheard. Your brain goes empty, mouth parts, the entirety of your vocabulary vanishes— 

“I think that’s something we decide after the night is over,” Yoongi answers Jungkook’s question lowly, propping a strong palm on the cloth of the table. The wet breeze dampens his hair, leaves a glow to his pale face. You wonder how he feels—if he’s still as okay with it as he was while fucking the life out of you—if he’s now, perhaps, facing some internal doubts that you know nothing of, that he hides beneath his words. “A collective decision.” 

He looks at you and beams at you with a tight-lipped smile. An expression that conveys that he wants this for you. You let out a sigh of relief, placing your hand on top of his and Yoongi makes a space for your fingers to fold in between his. Like he always does when he’s giving you backshots. 

A gooseflesh changed for hot flashes. You become the night, its fever thudding inside your lit skin. A familiar ache begins to grow in between your legs, demanding it. As if Jungkook’s lustful expression and energy wasn’t enough, your boyfriend had to remind you of something so intimate. 

You want both of them—right now.

Jungkook’s gape falls on your intertwined hands. Lover’s grasp. You note recognition, and perhaps a flashback, pulses with a dimmed light for a mere heartbeat in his eyes. It worsens your ache and, like Yoongi’s hair, you feel your panties dampen under your dress. You squeeze your thighs one more time before you untangle your legs, your heels clanging on the concrete, your knee bumping into Jungkook’s.

So close to him, yet so far away. 

You let yourself dream about how he fucks. Rough strokes, those muscled thighs straddling you—

“You agree with this?” 

A question from him directed towards you. Your throat dries up, dizzy from being pulled back to Earth. You take a long sip of your wine, but it doesn’t help your state. On the contrary, the buzz of the alcohol makes you tremble all over, intensifying your lightheadedness. You want to be fucked. Multiple times. Until you can’t walk. 

You wet your lips. “Of course,” you say, squeezing Yoongi’s fingers once, twice, letting him know through your own version of Morse code how horny you’re becoming, hoping he gets the memo. “It’s smart. If we made the decision now, who’s to say you won’t get sick of me?” 

Your response hurt you and you cringe, regretting your words. Your knuckles turn white, the breeze brushes through your hair and you relax your hold. Let out a hard breath. 

If he got sick of you after fucking you, you’d hate yourself for the rest of your life. Move out to a cave, far from civilization, so no one would see you ever again. 

Jungkook raises his brows, shaking his head. The smug smile on his lips remains, as if sewn into his skin. You wish you could wipe it away and straddle him right here in front of everyone—

“Sweetheart, don’t think that. I won’t get sick of you.” He toys with the foot of his wine glass, fingers moving it in slow circles as though he was—

Such a fucking tease. 

Your clit throbs. You won’t think that, all right. You’ll keep your mind empty and stupid just for him. 

You watch the movement of his digits, smiling slyly. The night rushes within you and, mentally, you wrap a collar around your neck in order to stop yourself from crawling across the table and taking a seat on his lap. A yearning forms. A yearning to feel the semi you know full well he’s sporting in his pants. You bite your lip, squeezing Yoongi’s hand again. He merely chuckles, aware of what the pair of you is doing and it’s too much for you. 

You need a dick rearranging your guts. Right now. 

Perhaps, two. 

You stifle a groan. 

“Tell you what. I have a cabin out in the mountains. With toys,” Jungkook says and you widen your eyes, his deep voice fraternizing with the night in you. Toys as in…? “An hour away from here. I can show you there how much I’m willing to not get sick of you.” 

Yoongi’s chuckle amplifies and you’re struck. Fucked up. Your cunt drools, ruining your panties. Your cheeks flush. Feverish, beyond feverish—you’re on fire. Your breathing gains speed and fuck. Toys? 

You have no thoughts. All that your brain is filled with is dick. Two dicks. 

Yoongi lifts his hand, unsnarling your intertwinement, and he sneaks it beneath your dress. His fingers feel up the drenched material of your underwear and hums. You reckon he already expected to find you wet and his sound of approval coaxes more of your dewiness to try and come into contact with him, but to your dismay and his, the fabric stands in the way. 

For two beats of time, Yoongi puts pressure on your clit as he feels up more of you and, faintly, so no one hears, you mewl, hiding your face beneath your palm. You swallow your whine for more, instead you sigh, camouflaging your moment of weakness. Bury your gaze into Yoongi’s, silently pleading him to take you home. 

Yoongi only smirks down at you before he faces Jungkook. “She’s wet. I think it’s safe to say she’d like that.” 

You slap his arm and Yoongi takes his hand away. The men laugh and you feel terrible, but not for long. You decide to take charge of the energy. 

“What kind of toys?” You will your voice to be confident and it’s only a split of it that comes out. You don’t mind—it’s enough because it silences their laughter, seriousness taking place instead. 

Jungkook licks his lips, adjusting in his seat—like Yoongi during that video call—and you sense it moving through you. You also feel the need to adjust, to peel your panties away from your cunt, discomfort seizing you a little. “I’ll show you tomorrow. Or the weekend after that?” Your eyes widen in panic. No—no, you can’t wait that long. He smiles fondly at you, sensing your emotions. “Tomorrow, then.”

You sigh in relief, downing your wine, but Jungkook isn’t done with you. 

“Will you pack your little red robe?” 

You choke. 

Amidst the chaos of the situation, you didn’t even realize he saw you. You didn’t even detect his eyes drifting that low. Thought Yoongi’s body colliding into you prevented him from seeing your intimate nighttime attire, but then you grasp that due to your shock, you might have missed that. 

Jungkook’s smirk widens. 

Oh, you want to say you’ll pack your little lace number that Yoongi particularly likes, along with your garters and stockings, though you opt to say something else entirely. You decide you want to steam him a tiny bit. Dominate the energy. Make him uneasy. For ulterior motives. 

“Will you brush off the cobwebs on your condoms  when packing or should I buy you new ones?” You quirk your brow, finger wiping away the drop of red that slipped out of the corner of your mouth. It’s all just talk—you want him to fuck you raw—a straight allusion to his loneliness that Yoongi told you about. Amused, Jungkook’s darkened eyes follow your movement. 

“Will you lick that finger?” 

You’re convinced your bloodstream came to a standstill. You don’t breathe, you don’t hear anything—your entire being becomes him, melding with the night, the moonlight. It’s him who now erases your brain. Yoongi touches your thigh, his fingers skimming the bare skin, but you don’t feel them. No, you pierce your gaze through Jungkook’s, penetrating right into his soul. And you simply decide that you want to own it. 

So much for steaming. 

“Do you want me to?” you retort, fluttering your lashes, the smile you give him as seductive as moonlight fluttering in you. You tap your finger on your bottom lip. Watch as his hand drifts somewhere beneath the table. 

He taps your knee in the same, identical beat. And, instinctively, you widen your legs. Your other knee bumps into Yoongi’s thigh. 

His first touch on your skin. You burn. Thank the heavens for slipping the idea inside your mind to wear a short dress. You inhale a breath in. Bite your lip, impatient for his answer. Tense your body so your trembles aren’t evident. You want to be strong, confident, despite the fact your body longs to submit to Jungkook—to be at his complete disposal, to be his, his to smooth down those quivers. 

Jungkook spreads his fingers along the roundness of your knee. Caresses you once. Then, nods. “Lick it for me.” 

Your heart jumps out of your chest. Right into his glass of wine. A flashback fills your brain—Yoongi saying familiar words to you on the night that perpetually changed your life. Stick it in your mouth for me. It must have rustled through his being just like it has in you. Has caused enough mayhem in him that he used those words. For me. He wants you to be naughty, be a little slut that listens to his commands—for him. 

Oh, and you shall do as he asks. 

Yoongi spreads an arm on the back of your chair, fingers sinking into your hair. The attention of both men, the lewdness, your wetness coating your panties, the warmth of the wine in your stomach, the night and the soft rain—you brim with life. You’re so elated that you’re sure you’re luminous. 

You plunge your red-tinged finger into your mouth. Keep it open for both men to see how you swirl your tongue around the digit before you close it. You make exaggerated sucking noises, your instincts and habits telling you to roll your eyes, but you decide against them. You’re in public after all—and you don’t really want to give Jungkook the full experience. Not yet. 

But then Yoongi pulls your hair and unwittingly, in a second, you moan. You shoot him a look, withdrawing your finger. He only chuckles, loosening his hold on your hair, the love in his eyes growing, mingling with joy and excitement. The sight of it calms you like still, deep waters and suddenly, you’re suffused with the desire to kiss him. 

Jungkook steals your attention, however. In typical fashion. 

He squeezes your knee between his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him. He’s propped his elbows on his thighs and the position broadens his shoulders more, the fabric of his black linen shirt taut around his muscles. The breeze quivers his lashes, strengthening the dimness and the lustfulness in his eyes. No glint of light to be found—just an abyss, bottomless eternity, enlivened by the scent of chocolate, the color of his eyes. It doesn’t unnerve you, on the contrary it boundlessly stimulates you. 

“You listen well,” he drawls, skimming his first knuckle down the smoothness of your shin before trailing back up. Gooseflesh—hard, thrilling gooseflesh. Your breath comes out choppy and you’re too transfixed by his feisty, lascivious aura to do something, anything about it. “But can you misbehave?” 

Your jaw falls open. At a loss for words. Brain muddy, cunt dripping. Your vocabulary long gone, your decision to be the one who takes charge of the situation long forgotten, long erased—more like—by someone who’s proved himself to be more dominant than your own boyfriend. Your boyfriend who has made you cry multiple times during sex. 

You let your trembles show. Bare, vulnerable. 

Yoongi strokes your hair, nuzzling his face behind your ear, placing a singular kiss there and it grounds you. Envelops a shield of safety around you. The breeze nourishes it. 

Jungkook slaps the side of your thigh softly. You gasp almost breathlessly, the impact vibrating through your body, the pulse on your clit a full drum. 

“Tomorrow then. At my cabin. Bring your robe,” he mutters, hypnotizing you with his gaze and you submit to it, unreservedly. This time, he drags his palm down your shin and his warmth guides you as you extend your leg for him, propping it between his outstretched legs, on the edge of his chair. He straightens, welcoming your gesture. “No condoms, no panties. Pussy dripping, preferably.” He halts the venture of his hand at your ankle, long fingers stretching to grab a hold of the heel of your stiletto. Flicks his eyes to Yoongi. “You can either make sure she’s wet or,” he pauses, whisking his gaze back to you. “You can touch your pussy for me? How’s that?” 

A carousel of dreams floods your mind and, fighting against the lodge in your throat, you voice out the one you like the most. You don’t want Yoongi to decide for you—you desire the decision to be yours, yours only. “Can I call you then?” 

Jungkook quickly raises his brows, stupefied by your answer. He didn’t expect that from you, and that fact makes you giddy. Night flowers begin to bloom in you, evening primrose and chocolate daisy—his flowers. They spread their petals when he says, “of course you can. Call me from his phone.”

Ever so persistent in the game of the roleplay. You could have exchanged numbers, but no. He wants it to be from the cuck’s phone. 

Yoongi grips your thigh, hard enough to make you wince. Even through your hypnosis, tipsiness and arousal, you sense that something is wrong. You turn your head to look at him and you discover that the love in his eyes, joy and excitement has gone out. Solemness has replaced it and into it, little by little, like the bottle of red Jungkook now tilts to your glass, overflows his wine of wrath. 

The threat you feared the most. 

You drop your leg to the ground and Jungkook lets you. Yoongi slackens his hold and you wonder what it was exactly that Yoongi didn’t like. The fact that Jungkook touched your leg or the plan between the pair of you—you touching yourself for him—that never had his approval? You release a breath, aware that you’ve done something very bad and your hypnosis and your smile declines with it. You even push your glass away, sobering up. The night flowers in you wilt. 

Yoongi relaxes beside you and you slip your fingers between his. 

You must have overdone it and the perception of that causes guilt to pool in your core. You should’ve at least looked at Yoongi to make sure he’s okay with it before jumping head-first. Nerves rise within you and you reach for your pack of cigarettes, hoping to chase your negative feelings away. Both men watch you, but the energy has already shifted. Arousal has evaporated and now, like the mist, seriousness settles in its place. Jungkook gives you a soft smile and you realize that your guilt is written all over your face, but he doesn’t say anything. Not to you; not to Yoongi.

The man before you returns to the good man you know, although his smug pride doesn’t let him become the healer that you know him to be. 

The ride home is silent. 

Jungkook texted Yoongi the address to his cabin as soon as you said your goodbyes. Your boyfriend scowled at the message before he pocketed his phone, taking your hand and walking a little faster to his car, as if to run away from the mess you’ve created. You felt so bad that you let him trail you behind him like a child, chin tilted to your chest, the heft of your guilt pressing down at you like a murky cloud. 

The rain is thickening by the time Yoongi drives down the familiar road to his apartment. He keeps his hands tightly wrapped around the steering wheel and the gear stick, knuckles white like the moonlight that left you and fled back to the dark heavens. He doesn’t reach for the radio or his phone to play some music. Lets the rain sing instead; lets the rain mend the tension between you. You overfill, uncomfortably, with so many beginnings to your sentences, but none of them fit right—none of them really portray what you think you should say to him, so it all falls into the abyss of the night that still lingers within you. 

It’s Yoongi who speaks first when he kills the engine, as if he needed the fifteen minute long car drive to think about what just happened, but it’s not the words that you want to hear. He stares ahead at the line of cars parked before him, at the canopy of trees bending to their roofs. The pitter-patter sounds of the raindrops worsen the guilt eating at your insides, especially when Yoongi remains seated with his hands in his lap.

“You’re not calling him tomorrow.” 

Your deduction was right. He didn’t like the idea of you calling Jungkook while you’d be touching yourself. You get that he has the right to not feel comfortable letting his friend in on a particular sexual practice, but you want to know why. If you’re not getting your own way and he gets to decide everything, you at least want to know the reason. 

“Why?” you ask, calmly. I want to, you don’t add. You fold your hands on your lap similarly to him, mirroring his body language. Feel the bubble of your disappointment sizzling in you. 

“You’re fucking him tomorrow and that’s the end of it,” he mutters, waving a hand through the air sharply to emphasize his words. Doesn’t look at you. Not once. “No collective fucking decision. One time and that’s it.” 

You will your calmness to stay, even when a foam of your own wrath pours into your disappointment. Do your own wishes and desires not matter at all in this situation? Or does the unfolding of it only belong to Yoongi and you have no say in it? Are you to shut your mouth or speak up? 

He was the one who made a comment about your self-pleasure to Jungkook when he was fucking the shit out of you and picked up his phone to call him. I recall her saying your name would be pretty to moan while she played with her pussy. Why did he say it if the thought of you pleasuring yourself on the phone with his friend makes him jealous? Did he really think Jungkook wouldn’t latch onto it, not want it to play out in real life?

The uncertainty, the questions devour your gut, but you go back to the start. 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Yoongi sighs. Hangs his head and rakes his hands through his hair. “I said—”

You suck in a breath. “That’s not what I asked,” you spit out with a venom that you didn’t mean and Yoongi finally looks at you—catches you closing your eyes at the rush of your emotions and turning your head away from him. “I want to know why.”

Yoongi scoffs. “How come you don’t know, huh?” His voice raises in volume and it paralyzes you with fear—he’s never yelled at you before. The question itself strikes you cold and you don’t like the feeling of it crawling up your legs. “How come I have to fucking remind you?” 

You’re embarrassed that you don’t know what he’s talking about, caught in the middle. You want to get out of this car and walk home, afraid—so terribly afraid of what might come next. Fuck the rain, you don’t care. 

Silence, intertwined with the long breaths that he’s trying to calm himself with, floods the car. You don’t know what to say and Yoongi keeps it at that. You consider the conversation finished. 

Your hand reaches for the handle. 

“Stay in the car.” 

Your back faces him. “I don’t want to be here.” 

“Then get drenched in the fucking rain.”

In disbelief, you turn around to look at him. Yoongi boils with anger, elbow propped on the door, index finger outstretched along his cupid’s bow, staring down the myriads of cars before him, setting them on fire with his gaze. 

“And I will,” you bark, frowning at him, needing to have the last word. “Don’t come running after me.” 

Your hand reaches the handle again and pops it open, your foot swinging over to the wet ground, but Yoongi grabs your leg and hauls you back inside, closing the door shut.

You open your mouth to yell at him. “What is your—”

Yoongi takes your face in his hand, puckers your lips and kisses you harshly. You groan, but you don’t fight it. In fact, you kiss him back, needing him—needing him warm and not cold to you. He stays nose-to-nose once he withdraws, watching as your irises dilate. The sadness that you catch whirling past his eyes punches you in the gut, hard enough that you regret the fight you’ve caused, regret every word you said and every action that can never be erased. You hate yourself for your desires, for your ugly soul and your abhorrence becomes an anchor wrapped around your heart, dragging it down. 

You whimper, but no tears come out. Yoongi pulls you onto his lap and cradles you, folding you into his chest. He rubs you back in circles, sweeps your hair to one side and you cling to his heat, wondering what the fuck just happened. 

You and him never had an argument before, never met each other halfway through the decaying meadow of negative feelings while being two opposite forces. You both were always there for the other person, absorbing their feelings, on their side through and through. Until now, you’ve truly never been two separate people with separate emotions and it’s a reality check. A breath of fresh air—the sudden, brisk disentanglement of an unhealthy attachment. 

Jungkook didn’t just make a ruckus out of your life, but out of your relationship, too. And by that ruckus, he healed it. 

And right then and there, you find the beginning to your sentence that you were searching for. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into the fabric of his polo shirt and your apology stops Yoongi’s motions. You lift your head to look into his eyes. “I should’ve checked in with you—I admit that. It was wrong of me. You’re allowed to not be okay with something and I should respect it, act accordingly, even when I might have a different opinion.” 

And your opinion shouldn’t change to be identical to his. Your thinking is your thinking. You’re your own person. 

The anchor loosens and falls from your heart when that understanding takes form within you. You feel much lighter. 

Yoongi frowns, but it doesn’t perturb you. Not anymore. “I will say this once so listen to me carefully,” he says, curling a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m not letting him see you touch yourself because that belongs to me—that’s what we do. Remember that.” 

So that’s what he meant. Guilt clenches your heart in a deathly grip for not knowing, for not realizing it. 

“If you so much as touch your clit tomorrow when he fucks you, I won’t think twice to carry you away and leave him with blue balls,” he continues, keeping his hand on your cheek.  “You’re still mine, even when I’m letting him have you. You’re mine. You got that?” 

You place your hands on his shoulders and nod. 

“Are you still okay with it, though?” you ask, not expecting him to go along with it after this and you wouldn’t be disappointed, not anymore. The healing that took place is bigger than your desire. The freedom that you feel is better than anything your intimate parts ask for. Your relationship at this very state, at this very moment, has grown past the sexual part. Before it was just lustful love. “We don’t have to do it. Jungkook would understand, wouldn’t he?” 

Yoongi sighs and presses a kiss on your cheek. You feel all of his stress and wrath dispersing into your skin. “I want this for you, honey. You were so excited about it, so into it. I’ve never seen you filled with so much light before.” 

You do the same for him—you press the same kiss, on the same right side of his cheek. “So just tomorrow then?” 

A tight-lipped smile, like the one at the beginning of the night. Yoongi nods. “Just tomorrow.” 

You disobeyed in every way you could. Brought panties and condoms. Left your red little robe at home. Didn’t look once at the lace little number you planned to pack. Decided you wanted to keep that for Yoongi’s eyes only. 

Decided you were going to paint your encounter with Jungkook with different colors, one that differs from the stained ones on your palette that you use with Yoongi. 

He wants you to be bad. Yoongi wants you to be good. 

It’s all your mind is suffused with as Yoongi drives into the woods and the sunlight spilling through the windshield, cutting through the trees, tempers it. No music, no conversation. 

You’re empty. You think the brown barks of the passing trees have more life in them than you do and along with that difference rise questions. Questions of what you’re allowed to do and what you’re not. Questions that you’re wary to ask. 

Not because there’s a lingering tension between you and Yoongi after the fight. As a matter of fact, he made love to you after you both ran for the door. Licked you clean of the rain while breathing in the heady scent of petrichor on your skin. All that had been broken was mended, beautifully. The reason why you’re nervous to ask is that you don’t want to venture back to that place of wrath. Where you are right now is a place of brisk freedom, one that you don’t want to leave, but to have a clear state of mind, you reckon you have to risk it. 

You place your hand on top of Yoongi’s on the gear stick, breaking the silence with your body language. You turn your torso halfway to face him. Meet his angelic early-afternoon-kissed countenance, hidden by his black shades and the long wisps of hair falling to each side of his face. 

Murmuring his name, Yoongi only hums at your call. 

“I have some questions,” you say slowly, carefully making your way to the place you’re timid to go to.

“Ask away, honey.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I know I’m not allowed to touch myself and I won’t, I promise. But is there anything else that’s off limits?” 

Yoongi also swallows sorely, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He takes a moment to think about it and because you’ve already brainstormed what he might not like, you make it easy for him. 

“Is he allowed to kiss me?” you try, fingers grasping your dainty necklace to play with, to distract your nerves. 

“Kissing is a part of sex, but if you’re not comfortable with kissing him, you don’t have to. Please,” Yoongi says your name with a sigh. “Don’t force yourself to do anything that doesn’t feel good. I beg you.” 

A hit of your liquid emotions. A little vein of life springing in your body. You blink the sudden tears away, dipping your fingers into the space between his. You’re so grateful to have such a thoughtful, intelligent man like him. 

“Okay, what about blowjobs?” 

Yoongi sucks in a breath. Ponders it. “Well, that’s an important part of the kink, isn’t it?” He looks at you momentarily before bringing his eyes back to the road. “Watching your girlfriend suck someone else’s dick. That’s the appeal.” 

“Besides watching her get fucked.” 

He chuckles shortly. “That’s what I’m most excited about.” 

A soft smile. “You’re excited about watching me get fucked?” Yoongi nods, but you didn’t get the answer you wanted. You go back. “So you’re not comfortable with me sucking his—”

Yoongi sighs, rubbing his forehead before slapping his hand back down on the steering wheel. “I don’t know yet, honey. We’ll see when we get there.” He squeezes it, the white of his knuckle appears and you take a mental note of that. No blowjobs, or no overindulging in the act, more like. Not knowing is an answer, too. 

“And he’s allowed to eat me out?” 

He doesn’t smile as he says, “he’s skilled with his tongue. You’ll lose your mind. It’s all I could ever want for you.” 

You raise your brows in doubt. “No one is as skilled as you.” At that, his coy smile finally rises and you brush your thumb across the side of his hand. “Will you join in or are you just gonna watch?” 

Yoongi shifts the gear and speeds down the road. “I was planning to watch only, but I guess it depends on the situation. I’m willing to join if I feel like it.” He lifts your hand and kisses the soft skin. “You nervous, honey?” 

You still feel slightly empty, no nerves to be found. You shake your head ‘no’. 

“You’re gonna like it there. It’s a nice cabin.” 

What Yoongi said was an understatement. 

When you witness the greenery enveloping the mountains, you stand gaping with your mouth half open. A warm summer wind billows in and out of the balcony, ushering in such liveliness and joy of life that you feel it slinking into each and every pore of your body, filling you up with all that you’ve been lacking. Giddiness clutches you and lingers, the flimsy curtains quivering against your thigh with each movement to and fro. You willingly become the nature—the sunlight and the slowly diffusing mist wrapped around the grays, blues and greens. The trees curtsy at your presence and a fond smile blossoms on your face. 

Now, at last, you can’t wait to get fucked. You’re glad it’s going to happen at such a lovely place like this. 

Jungkook, dressed in a white oversized T-shirt and a pair of cargos, takes your travel bag from Yoongi’s hand. He looks so soft that it’s hard to believe you’re staring at the same man from yesterday—he changes drastically when he’s aroused, like you takes on the likeness of the dark whenever he hears its call. It’s fascinating to you. 

“Come see the room upstairs.” 

Quietly, you and Yoongi follow him, your feet thudding along the wood of the stairs. And there, there your breath gets snatched altogether. 

A white, heavenly canopy above the king sized bed, white furniture—void of any dust—adorned with nourished plants that sway and rustle in the wind. The summer breathes through the open wide windows and in the corner, next to a dresser, a mirror stands, a mirror with a rocking chair right beside it that causes gooseflesh to prick at your skin. 

If this is where you’re getting fucked, Yoongi will have first row view of it. It’s as if Jungkook planned it all along and that speculation causes a shiver to run down your spine. 

Jungkook sets your bag and Yoongi’s on the mattress. Skims his surroundings in case there’s any untidiness that he hasn’t touched and one glance at Yoongi tells you that he spent the first half of the day cleaning up the place. 

Cute puppy. You and Yoongi share a smile. 

“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” Jungkook says, straightening his spine. 

“We’ll be sleeping?” you joke and the men shoot you a look, which makes you burst out into laughter. The sound blends into the song of the birds and the sway of the trees. You feel a spark of joy perk up in your chest. 

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.” 

Oh. 

He said it so casually that you feel hot all over. You glimpse at Yoongi, though his face utters no words of emotion. Eyes fixed at a point on the hardwood floors, hands in his pockets, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. Did he not say he was excited to watch you get fucked? Have you made a mistake? 

You rake a hand through your hair, exhausted of your questions and doubt. 

Jungkook leads you back down to the main floor, but Yoongi stays behind. Wants to take a shower before lunch. Nervousness nips at your fingertips at the thought of being alone with his friend, but you nod anyways, having no other choice. 

You watch the swing of his body as he goes down the stairs, little wisps of hair bouncing on the back of his head that you find immensely endearing. They’re like some floppy ears of a puppy to you. Your breasts bounce as well with each skip down and you become aware of how full they are in your low neckline as with each movement your bare, pebbled nipples graze against its fabric, stimulating you, sending a familiar ache down to your intimate parts beneath the ruffles of your skirt. 

You need to be very careful from this moment on upon this dangerous territory. 

“I want to show you something,” Jungkook says, walking towards the balcony. He doesn’t look back at you, he just expects that you’re following him blindly and something about that overwhelms you peculiarly. You want to slap yourself for getting aroused so quickly—you just got here. 

He extends his arms along the railing and you saunter to his side, taking a peek above his shoulder but failing, miserably. All you face is the hard wall of his muscles, even when you lift yourself on your tippy toes and it makes you huff out a frustrated breath against the material of his T-shirt, despite the fact his tall form dampens your cunt—

Is it your ovulation day? Fuck, you make a mental note to check that later. 

Jungkook turns his head to look at you and chuckles. Grabs the back of your neck to push you closer to the railing and you fear your eyes will pop out of their sockets due to the way you widen them. The second body part he touched—one of many. You hope, you pray he keeps his hand there but he withdraws as soon as your fingers wrap around the wood of the railing. You narrow your lips in a tight line. 

He points to what he wanted to show you. You try your hardest to not notice the details of his tattooed hand, to ignore the silver ring around that index finger of his and the ghost of his touch on the nape of your neck. You close your eyes for a heartbeat to regain your composure before they catch the view he’s pointing to. 

A pond. A clear body of water under a thick weeping willow that wets its petals in the freshness of it. Your mouth parts. You sense his gaze on you, but you can’t reciprocate it. Not when such a lovely view like this lulls your soul, permeates it with the pleasure of beauty. 

“Can we get closer?” you ask, mesmerized completely. 

Jungkook grabs your elbow. Another body part. He drags you to another set of stairs. And you realize that the balcony is a veranda of some sort. The feeling of grass under your bare feet is exhilarating and, like a child, you begin to run to the pond, your skirt furling around you, exposing a sliver of your bottom. Jungkook lets you. Walks sluggishly with his hands in his pockets, watching you—smirking at that piece of skin he got to see. 

You crouch to touch the stillness of the water, your fingertips reflected upon it. The coldness, despite the steaming sunlight, is so refreshing and you long to take a dip, to fill your hot body with the briskness it so evidently needs. 

Standing upright, you twist to yap about how beautiful the scenery is—but Jungkook pushes you into the water. 

You were so wrong. So very wrong. 

Your feverish body didn’t need the coolness of the pond to dull your arousal because when you come up for air and your little outfit sticks to you body, your heartbeat picks up its speed, thumping in tandem with your clit. Jungkook wipes his smirking mouth at the sight of you and you’ve convinced that’s your undoing. 

Nipples stiffened through your little top. Skirt shrunken. Skin wet and glossy. You run your palms through your hair, squeezing water out of your strands, feeling sensual, confident and so fucking playful. You smirk right back at him when you wade your way to him. Pull your shoulders back, tits on full show for him, when you lift your leg onto the grass. 

And you stalk him down. You thought he’d move but he stays put. Those hands still in his pockets, those eyes zeroing down on yours—now different, now much smaller. Darker. Willing you to come after him. 

“Prick.” You screw up your face at him, your chest tightening, an inch away from his. 

Jungkook releases a breath. Grins smugly, briefly, swiping his tongue down the side of his inner cheek, as if he liked the fact you called him something like that. His irises drift down to your tits unabashedly and you swear you can see his hands twitching—

“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs, irises back on yours, twinkling, dilated. “Wet.” 

You blush. Ache to be touched. Think about Yoongi and whether he’s finished with his shower because you need to be attended to. Taken to a safe place where the pleasure of his words and energy can unfold, where you can enjoy it. But Jungkook hypnotizes you again—and you don’t know how he does it, how he manages to draw your body close to his without hands. You hate him for it. 

“Prick,” you repeat, more to yourself than him, drops of water trickling down every perimeter of your skin. 

Jungkook cups your chin, raising it to his level. “And what else?” 

You dart out your tongue and wet your mouth— slowly around the arc of your top lip to tease him. Then, you narrow your eyes even more at him. “Asshole.” 

Affectionately, he titters, influenced by your actions so much that you catch flecks of drunkenness in his features. It makes you feel so brilliant that you beam up at him and once his laughter softens, he reciprocates the grin. Like you and Yoongi had, but in a different way. 

The swish of the willow tree. A teetering bird. Jungkook fondles your glowy cheek. 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

Your breath lodges in your throat but you push against it. Want to speak up. “I couldn’t.” 

He frowns. “But did you want to?”

You nod. The question causes you to blossom, shed the last of thorns left in your body from the attachment. He’s the only person you could say this to and naively you trust that he won’t peep a word to Yoongi. A relief bolts through you that you put yourself first and spoke your truth for the first time in your life. You understand the reason why Yoongi isn’t comfortable with that practice and you promised him you wouldn’t do it. Intending to keep your word, it doesn’t change your opinion, however. Your opinion being that there’s nothing wrong with letting him see this part of your sex life. 

It could be reversed. Jungkook being the one who watches. 

He wraps his fingers back around your chin, hovers his thumb an inch away from your lips, as if he’s fighting himself from touching them. “Tell me with your words.” 

A question that makes the time stand still. Do you listen or misbehave? 

The decision is fast. 

You press up your body against his. Jungkook sucks in a breath at the sensation of your stiffened nubs beneath his pecs, the water of the pond soaking through his T-shirt, marking your tits on him. You interlock your hands behind your back and Jungkook withdraws his hand. Surprises you when he lets it roam down your arm until he finds your clasped wrist. 

He’s waiting for your answer. You know he is. And you want to gratify the puppy. 

“I did want to rub my clit for you,” you breathe out and the hotness of his exhale envelopes you in a heat, even more so when his other hand grips your wrist and nuzzles you even further into the shadow of his body. 

Hard length against your tummy. The roundness of his nose nudging against yours. It’s too much, way too fucking much and you mewl—to which Jungkook immediately responds, approves of the sound, of your neediness and presses you closer to him, your tits squished against him. 

Lips above your ear, he whispers, “would you have called me or would you have let me see?” 

He takes both of your wrists into his fist and his other hand goes to your wet hair, smoothing down the strands. You find the gesture calming, calming enough for you to say, “let you see.” 

You inhale his scent—wood, vanilla and fabric softener. The fragrance of gentleness. 

“Hm, would you have fingered yourself for me?” Jungkook continues, pulling your hair so you look at him. No hint of darkness in his eyes, but tenderness—a healing kind of tenderness that makes you give yourself over to him. 

“Yes. More than once.” 

Jungkook grunts. Turns you around and flips your skirt to see if you’re wearing any panties. Is met with the bareness of your behind as your choice of underwear for the day is a white thong. Optical illusion. 

A quick heartbeat. Dry throat. 

He straightens you and presses you back against him—this time from behind. Lips to ear, the same one. You feel the shape of him on your palms. Thick. Big. You roll your eyes back. “On the count of three, you run and hide. If I find you, you get fifteen spanks for wearing panties when I specifically told you not to.” His breathing turns ragged, in sync with yours, the thought of punishing you turning him on. 

“What happens if you can’t find me?” You squeeze his full balls and you hear that grunt again, vibrating through you. 

“You don’t wanna know. Did you forget I have toys?” 

With that, he pushes you and you gaze back at him with horror—a lustful horror that blazes you. What kind of toys does he have? You want to find out, badly enough that you don’t mind misbehaving. 

Jungkook begins to count. 

You don’t wait until you hear the number three before you run for your life. 

Inside the cabin, near the balcony, you bump into Yoongi’s naked chest. And you don’t have time to react before Yoongi scowls down at you, ridding you of any sounds of shock that desire to pour out of you. 

“Why the fuck are you wet?” he asks, bracing you with both hands, skimming a glance upon the sight of you. 

You panic. “Yoongi, I—”

A creak on the hardwood floors behind you. You round your brows. Will you ever make a decision on your own? Your fate was, again, picked for you. By Yoongi, by Jungkook—who didn’t give you enough time to hide. 

Even a tendril of disappointment doesn’t have time to perforate your being because you sense another hand on the ruffle of your dripping skirt. 

“Tell me why you didn’t take the second to make sure she was bare for me? You don’t check her holes?” 

A deep, indignant murmur. Not expressed towards you, but towards your boyfriend. Yoongi’s scowl deepens, but you smile through your shock—the sun leaking through the clouds—and you sneak a finger along the definition of his abdomen that tenses under your touch. A conveyance that it has begun—that he should play along. You nod your head even, shortly, letting him know it’s okay. 

Yoongi relaxes. Drifts his hands to your palms, holds them. Flicks his eyes to Jungkook above your head. Swallows. “She’s a brat that has a mind of her own,” he says and perhaps he’s right. Now you get to be one, at last. “She didn’t even pack her robe. Did she tell you that?” 

You freeze. Jungkook fists your skirt. 

Lips back to your ear. Heat radiating. You hope Yoongi didn’t see the marks of your breasts on his T-shirt. “Is that right?”

Vigor courses through you. You get to be a brat. And the possibility makes you feel infinitely alive. 

“Yes,” you giggle, and when Yoongi gives you an endearing smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, you find that safe place you were searching for, that you needed. “I figured I should be naked for the occasion.” 

Jungkook scoffs. “And yet you disobeyed me. Do you even use your brain or are you just that horny?” 

Your lashes quiver at that, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, feeling stupid, although you know the reason behind your defiance. 

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your response. He pushes you towards Yoongi until you collide into his chest. If your panties weren’t drenched from the pond, his manhandling would’ve taken care of that already. “Turn her around and strip her.” 

You panic. Fear that Yoongi will see your tits on his T-shirt. Noticing your emotions, Jungkook understands. Pinches the back of his shirt and flings it on the back of the couch. Broad shoulders, big pecs, deeply defined abdominal muscles and the lines of his V leading into his intimate parts. No happy trail. Jungkook smiles at your relief. Your body flutters. 

Yoongi’s hands grasp the hem of your soaked top and swiftly pull it over your head, making your full breasts bounce from the impact. He can’t help but knead them, face nuzzling into the crook of your forest-scented neck to pepper kisses there, and you catch the protest in Jungkook’s eyes—only to watch it dwindle away with the slow realization that he can’t tell your boyfriend not to touch you. 

It makes you whimper. And the licks of Yoongi’s tongue and harsh kisses merely heighten that sound. 

He continues as his hands find the waistband of your skirt and drag it down your hips until it plops onto the floor. And to fully present you to him at last, he hooks his thumbs under your thong—at which Jungkook shakes his head, disapproving. Walking towards you, he kneels before you and Yoongi blows on the traces of saliva he left on the side of your neck. Shivers, ones that Jungkook smooths down on your thighs to calm you down before he rips your panties in one motion. 

If Yoongi wasn’t holding you, you’d fall to the floor—your legs boneless, jelly. 

Like a leaf out in the forest, your ruined thong plummets to your feet. Jungkook lifts your ankle, helping you step out of it. Throws the scrap on top of his T-shirt, perhaps as a keepsake. 

He doesn’t rise. Gazes upon your cunt, instead. Upon the glistening of your folds and lips, the swollenness of your clit. You part your legs wider for him. In appreciation, he looks up at you and strokes the back of your knee. Pupils dilated, the black swallowing the brown. And when Yoongi presses his length against you, pinches your nipples and you roll your eyes back, your attention stolen, Jungkook rises to his feet. 

Licks his fingers and places them on your clit, starting a speedy series of circles—and you can’t catch your breath. Not when Yoongi rolls your nipples under his digits, not when Jungkook narrows his eyes at you and commands, “apologize.” 

The pleasure overwhelms you so fast and you can’t speak. Can’t for the life of you remember how to apologize and what for, especially not when you grind your ass against Yoongi’s length and he grunts into your ear, not when you’re aware of the quickening of Jungkook’s breath. 

Briefly, Jungkook speeds up his pace before he plunges the same wet digits into your hole. Doesn’t let you adjust, but instead keeps filling you to the brim. Then, with the same rapidness, he fucks you. 

And you can’t stop yourself from coming and drenching his hand. The second fastest orgasm of your life. Your drops of essence are added to the pile of chunks of dry mud, grass and the pond water dripping from your hair on the floor. 

Jungkook withdraws, completely. And you feel cold without his heat, without his closeness. “Why did you come?” 

Yoongi begins to focus on your earlobe and you perceive the smug, proud smirk on his mouth. You don’t know what to say—beyond overwhelmed, beyond fucked out. All you know is that you don’t have enough, that you need more, that you hated how quickly your orgasm came upon you. 

Jungkook takes Yoongi’s hands gently and rearranges them. The right one on your cunt, the left one on your jawline. To your surprise, he lets him. Something about that coaxes a string of your wetness to trickle down your thigh. 

Yoongi’s hold on your chin is rough, causing a litany of soft mewls to spill out of your mouth as you wait for the next move. Needy, horny. And your mewls turn into loud moans that waft out into the forest when Jungkook grips your tits, pushes them together and licks against both of your nipples, your whole body fluttering, trembling, weak and stimulated. Yoongi begins to rub your clit and Jungkook catches you go cross-eyed, stifling his chuckle, but smiling at you regardless. 

Drawing close to you until your bare, wet nipples come into contact with his skin, he glimpses at your mouth once before boring his eyes into yours. “Apologize,” he says lowly. “Apologize for wearing panties.” 

Yoongi squeezes your cheeks, puckering your mouth, despite the fact this is something you only do together. Then, Jungkook tilts his head to the side and kisses you softly, owning you entirely. The puffy tenderness of his mouth, the gentleness which he pressed that kiss with—Yoongi squeezes your cheeks even harder, opening your jaw, giving Jungkook the green light to use his tongue and you’re gone. 

You’re gone when Jungkook swipes his tongue on top of yours. Gone when he toys with it, swirls around it for a moment before closing his lips around yours, kissing you deeply—the smacking sound so loud in your ears, so delicious that you moan, losing your strength to stand and sagging a little bit in Yoongi’s arms. 

“Fuck,” you utter once he lets you breathe and even through the hypnosis, the hot flashes signaling the upcoming of your second orgasm and the blurriness of your vision, you can see how much that kiss affected him. 

Softening glossy eyes, features loosening—smirk wiped clean, unbelief, wooziness and arousal in its place instead. Mouth parted, puffy, shiny with saliva. A beautiful, extraordinary sight. 

“She can’t apologize, but she can swear,” Jungkook comments, but it doesn’t reflect the turmoil happening on the inside of him. And it doesn’t explain what he does next. 

He kisses you again. More gently than before. A slight whirl of tongue around yours before he closes his lips against you all over again. Although this time, he doesn’t stop. He pinches your nipples with his fingers, over and over, while moving his mouth against yours, a slow ripple of the pond behind you if there ever was one. And you feel the heat, the sweat coating your body and you feel Jungkook feeling you come. You don’t have to make a sound. He knows. 

Your orgasm is a deep current moving through you. Like that kiss. You lose yourself in it, eyes rolled back into darkness, fluttering to and fro—from light to dark—and when you resurface, you find Jungkook’s cavernous, enthralled gaze fixed on you, fixed on the forging process of your orgasm taking roots in you. 

Yoongi lets you drop to the floor, breathless. Jungkook shoots him a dirty look, but you reach for the button of his pants, not caring. He stops you with a gentle grasp of your wrist. Bends to your level. 

“You’re not sucking dick. Not mine, not his,” Jungkook snarls, helping you stand to your feet. Hooks an arm under your knees and back and lifts you into his arms—carries you upstairs, without any other words spared. 

He sets you on the bed. Gently cleans your feet with a wet cloth and when he’s done, he takes a seat on the white rocking chair across from you. Palms his length briefly before he manspreads, propping his elbows on his thighs like he did at dinner. Once Yoongi arrives, he pats your head and caresses your hair, an apology for letting you fall. You’re on the verge of tears. 

Jungkook doesn’t even look at him. “Fifteen spanks from him for wearing panties. Fifteen more from me for not apologizing. To me.” 

Yoongi never spanked you. You recognize it’s as much of a punishment for him as it is for you. They haven’t been friends for a day. Jungkook must be very well aware of Yoongi’s disliking of any impact play. He might like to make you cry during sex, but he never uses violence to do so. He uses his words, his dominance and his length. 

Jungkook is teaching him a lesson for letting you drop to the floor. And it coaxes an onrush of foreign emotions to swarm within you. You’re touched. Deeply, deeply touched. 

So much that you don’t take in the fact you’re getting spanked thirty times. 

Yoongi scowls and you’re sick of seeing it. Getting on your knees, you wait for him to sit down. He remains standing. 

Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Sit down, hyung.” 

Power play. He has no business ordering him around and calling him hyung while at it. Has no business to be in control when he’s the bull. Your essence sticks to your thighs. 

“I’m not spanking her,” Yoongi mutters. “Do it yourself.” 

Jungkook leans back, a finger to his temple. Darkness soaks him in heat and he shines, dimly. “You allowed it to happen, so you punish her. For me.” In other words: You dropped her, so you’re getting punished. 

Yoongi has no other choice. You can see the defeat wrung into his face and he doesn’t look at his friend as he sits down. You do. 

And the look you share should mangle your heart, but it doesn’t. You should feel bad that you’re on his side and not on Yoongi’s, but you don’t. 

Purposefully, you angle your pussy so Jungkook has a perfect view of her as you crawl on Yoongi’s lap. One leg on the mattress, the other in the middle of his thighs—

“Lie down,” Jungkook orders and you listen, immediately, plopping down on Yoongi’s lap, making him gasp. 

Yoongi cages you in. Pushes you farther towards his back, but you fight against it. You want to look at Jungkook when you’re getting spanked by your boyfriend for the first time, and so you twist your torso to the side. Just in time to catch a sunray penetrating his aura of darkness, enkindling him softly. 

With his hand wrapped around his still clothed cock, Jungkook nods at Yoongi. You didn’t even realize he was waiting for his signal. Your pussy drools. Jungkook squeezes his girth in response. 

The first spank is tender. And so is the second and the third. Jungkook sighs, rubbing his temple, but he doesn’t say anything. Not yet. 

Fourth and fifth—it gains a small amount of intensity, barely. Sixth and seventh, he rubs both of your cheeks as if it hurt, when in reality it was a caress to you. 

Jungkook slowly blinks at you, telling you to be patient through that gesture. 

Because it’s the tenth one that makes you gasp. The prickling pain coursing through your body, pooling at your core—your core that shows him how much you liked that sharp spank. Jungkook smiles, proven right. 

Yoongi’s breath shakes. His cock twitches against your stomach. 

“Harder,” Jungkook mutters, his own breath quick, eyes never leaving yours. “For the last five. And faster.” 

Yoongi obeys. Your moans grow in volume with each spank, your bottom painted in faint red. Yoongi quickly pulls you up to face him, brushing your hair away from your face. 

“You liked that?” he asks in disbelief, eyes flicking between yours, looking for any hint of discomfort. 

You nod. “I need—” Him, you don’t say. You can’t. 

The rocking chair creaks. Jungkook walks towards you. You twist your body again to meet him halfway and he caresses your cheek, rewarding you. You go to turn your body wholly, but Jungkook stops you, holding you steady by the waist. While you still straddle Yoongi, knees on either side of his thigh, he gently prompts you to lift up your bum against him, arching your back, tits in Yoongi’s face. 

“Stay like this,” he whispers into the waterfall of your hair and as you rub your cheeks against his manhood slowly, he hums, pressing a deep kiss onto your scalp. “Hold onto his shoulders.” 

You do as he says. As if Yoongi knows something you don’t, he latches his hands onto the back of your knees, clamping you down on the mattress. 

The first spank causes you to squeeze your eyes shut, pain so acute striking your body like flashes of lightning. And unlike Yoongi, Jungkook doesn’t stop. He keeps spanking you, each hit harder and more painful than the one before and you lose count of how many you’ve taken. You grip Yoongi’s good shoulder with all your might, wrapping your other hand around his neck. 

You like the pain. You like the pain so much that you stay still. And because of that, Jungkook tilts your chin so you can look at him, coming to your side and propping a knee on the mattress. You see amusement and amazement swimming in his eyes when you finally open yours, dazed. He smiles at you, softly and tenderly. And you pucker your lips at him, asking for a kiss. 

Jungkook willingly obliges. Gives you a deep peck full of meaning that you don’t know the language of yet—and it sinks down your body, makes a bed there. The coldness of his lip ring turns you whiny. Jungkook kisses you over and over again, just to hear your sounds. 

Yoongi is red when you glance down at him. He’s at loss for words and there’s a puzzling look to his face that you don’t want to decipher. 

“Five more,” Jungkook whispers, tracing the outline of your abused, sensitive ass. “Can you handle five more? You’ve taken it so well so far.” 

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and the fact you asked for it makes both of the males still. Jungkook sneaks a hand between your legs and circles your hole, gathering your arousal, teasing you, finding you wetter than before. 

Yoongi begins to suck on your nipples. And when Jungkook finishes his punishment faster than you anticipated or even noticed, your bum burning, you could come like this—but you don’t. Jungkook sticks his tongue down your throat, does what Yoongi does on your nipple and you begin to tremble, making a mess on Yoongi’s thigh. 

As if pitying the abuse, Jungkook kneels before you and peppers gentle, wet kisses on the red flecks of your disobedience, making it right, healing it. Careful with his lip ring, careful not to suck on the skin. 

Then, he places a singular kiss on your clit, making you shiver. Stands to his feet. Walks over to his dresser. “Both of you lean back against the headboard. You against his chest. Keep her legs open, hyung.” 

You hiss at the change of positions, your cheeks hurting, even when Yoongi places a pillow underneath your butt. It worries him, your expression of pain and he tries to alleviate it by kissing you. There’s so much difference to the way he does it that it makes you emotional, drags you deeper into the madness of your hypnosis. 

“You enjoyed that?” Yoongi asks, knuckles brushing against the side of your face, as if he truly can’t believe you enjoyed the inflicting of pain. 

And you’d want it again, if your skin wasn’t so sore. 

“I loved it, Yoongi.” 

Shock flares in his eyes and you look away. 

Jungkook crawls upon the bed with a pink toy in his hand. A small egg with a small gap in the top half. You smile at him, excitement surging in you, and he reciprocates it. Lifts your leg to your shoulder and Yoongi holds it in place. 

“Butt hurts?” Jungkook asks, noticing the pillow, and you nod. “Good.” 

You laugh, softly. 

Placing a hand on your mound, covering it entirely, he brushes his thumb across your cunt, checking your arousal, spreading it on your clit. Doesn’t think there’s enough, which you find ridiculous, and he spits on her, making you moan. Turns the toy on. 

“Spit on her again,” you command, grinding your hips, feeling the trail go down to your hole. 

Jungkook smirks at you. “Filthy girl.” 

Bends to your cunt and spits at her again, tongue darting out to lightly keep the liquid love, where he wants it to be. And you mewl, welcoming his tongue on your clit, and you yearn for more, lifting your pelvis even though it hurts, but Jungkook withdraws. Places the toy on it, thumb clicking on the intensity, rising it, rising it high so much that you widen your eyes—

It sucks on your clit. 

You cry out, pleasure seizing you in its grasp and all you can do is close your eyes and feel it. It paralyzes you, takes your breath and—

“Look at me.” 

You can’t. 

“I know it feels good, but I’m not letting you have it until you look at me.” 

He takes the toy away. You grip his tattooed arm, opening your eyes. 

“Please, Jungkook—”

He doesn’t listen to your plea. Lifts your other leg. Doesn’t give it to Yoongi—keeps his hand there, nice and firm. Begins to concentrate on the back of your thigh, leaving behind wet marks of red and purple, tongue sliding on the skin before he sucks on it, keeping his eyes on you as he does it. You grab a hold of his hair. Soft, so silkily soft, short and healthy. You imagine the tiny petals on the weeping willow outside have the same softness. 

You’re spellbound. Jungkook places the toy back on your clit, pleasure flooding you—now more fervent and extreme, with his puffy lips still sucking your skin in tandem. And hearing your moans, Jungkook fires them back at you, setting your body ablaze. 

“That’s it. Keep looking at me,” he husks and Yoongi squeezes your other thigh, kissing your hair, reminding you he’s here with you. But he’s not the one who moans along with you. It’s Jungkook. Your eyes lid, but you try your hardest to keep them open, your feverish body swaying, the nearness of your orgasm at hand. “Yes, like that. I’m gonna make you come for me.” 

Letting go of your thigh, he sinks the two of his fingers inside your heat, gasping along with you. Stuffing you to the brim like he did before, he doesn’t have to fuck you fast to bring you over the edge. He moves the toy from side to side—and it’s the feeling of fullness, the twist of his features as if he was the one pleasured that makes you come all over his hand, the pillow and the bedding. 

It’s like being submerged under the water of the pond and you keep your eyes open the entire time, the endearment on his face and his attentiveness taking care of you, watching over you as he talks you through your orgasm. 

“Don’t hold back for me, yes, take it, baby. Good, so good, I know,” he says it in such undertones that you sob, emotions rushing out along with your release, trickling out of your tear ducts. You feel so safe and so well taken care of, so content that you don’t shy away from your feelings. You let both males be witnesses to it. 

It’s Jungkook first, who reacts. Brows knitted, he wipes your tears away. And it’s him who decides to take a break. 

“Let’s eat lunch.”

Your focus is enveloped around him so tightly that you don’t even know how your boyfriend reacted to your tears. You don’t feel him when he lets go of your leg and stands up to his feet to dress. It’s Jungkook who cleans you and checks the redness of your ass if there are any bruises. 

Yoongi doesn’t wait for you as he goes down the stairs. 

And it’s you who feels defeated now. And when Jungkook looks at you, he knows. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist / READ part one 

[professorsnape394]

Day 4: "Me or Her?"

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC

Rating:😠🥰

Prompt: Torn

Summary: Severus must chose between his old life and his new life, or risk losing those closest to him.

A/N: Can't resist a good angsty moment. Writing this broke me a little bit in the best possible way. My heart was aching.

Warnings: alcohol.

Word Count: 2184

Credits to Gif Creator

Halloween had always been a difficult day for Severus. While the rest of the world gathered their friends to dress up in ridiculous costumes and gallivant around from door to door, Severus opted to stay at home, mourning the loss of his first love and childhood best friend.

He remembered that night like it was yesterday. It was the height of the First Wizarding War; The Dark Lord had learned of the prophecy and was setting out to murder any new parents with a son born at the end of July. Severus had begged Voldemort not to hurt her. Dumbledore had promised to keep her safe. At that point Lily Evans was the only person in his life who had ever saw the good in him. He needed her to be kept alive.

As it turned out neither wizard kept their promise to their most loyal subject, and Lily Potter was murdered on the 31st of October 1981 Severus was the one to find her; lying lifeless on the floor of her son’s nursery. Her son, who infuriatingly had survived the Unforgivable Curse that was meant to end his life, remained unharmed and wailing in his crib. Lily had not been so fortunate.

Snape fell to his knees beside her limp body, cradling her in his arms. Sobbing openly for the loss of his best friend.

Halloween marked this occasion every year serving as a cruel reminder of everything he had lost that day. So instead of celebrating like everyone else, he chose to drink.

The potions master kept an old photograph of himself and the young witch hidden away in the drawers of his desk. It depicted a moving image of the two of them side by side as young teens, posing and giggling hysterically at the camera. It was his tradition to set the picture on his desk once a year and drink himself numb on a bottle of Firewhiskey.

This year he had thought would be no different. The picture lay flat on his desktop, the uncorked bottle of alcohol stood beside it. Yet, he hesitated.

Without warning his office door swung open, revealing a stunning young witch dressed in a deep red velvet gown with flared sleeves stretching almost to the floor.

“Are you nearly ready honey, if we don’t leave now we’ll be late the party.” Her temporary vampire teeth peaked out through her blood red lips.

While his enchantingly beautiful wife was hard to resist looking at as she relaxed against the doorframe, a party on this night just felt wrong.

“I’m not coming.” He muttered, his hand automatically reaching for the bottle.

“But you promised…” She whispered, the grin dropping from her face.

“I’ve changed my mind, I think I’d prefer to be alone this evening.”

The hurt on his wife’s face could not be clearer; this wasn’t the first time he had let her down at the last minute.

“It’s time to move on Severus.” She removed her fake teeth, not wanting her next words to be slurred.  “If you always insist on living in the past, those here in the present will get tired of waiting on you.”

While she had always been sympathetic to her husband’s emotions, she couldn’t help but feel rejected by him. That if Lily had somehow survived that night, she would be the one standing in her place instead.

Severus stared down at the old photograph, not daring to meet his wife’s watering eyes.

“Answer me this, Severus, because I’m only going to ask it once. If she were here. If it was me or her. Who would you choose?”

The question shouldn’t have come as a shock to the man, he had always suspected it had been on his wife’s mind. But hearing it out loud came as a blow to his chest. He knew the answer but it would hurt him deeply to say it aloud. So instead, he loosened the cap of his whiskey, poured himself a large glass and drank until only a few droplets remained.

A frustrated sigh filled the room.

“I’ll be back around 11. If your still conscious enough, feel free to join me in bed.” She snapped, slamming the door behind her.

Severus buried his head in his hands. Of course, he knew his ritual was unhealthy, and now that he was married it was well past time that he stopped it. But still, he worried that by giving up this day that he dedicated to his young love, he was somehow letting her down yet again. That it was his fault she died and by letting this routine go, she was somehow dying all over again. He worried that his memory of her might be forgotten if he didn’t spend at least one day a year wallowing in his grief for her.

He drained a second glass of whiskey.

Snape had fucked up big this time, and now his worry was he was at risk of losing his wife, the only woman who had ever truly loved him back. 

Looking down the barrel of his third drink, Severus heard a faint knock on his office door.

“Come in.” He called out.

In bounded a girl no higher than his thigh, clad in shades of pink and purple tulle, paired with a set of translucent net wings and topped with a silver plastic tiara.

“Hi Daddy.” She beamed up at him.

“Hello sweetheart.” Severus picked the girl up by her armpits, placing her gently on his lap. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“Eh, I’m a fairy princess, duh?” She mumbled, brandishing her pretend wand at him.

“Of course, you are.” He nodded in understanding. “And the most beautiful one at that.”

His daughter blushed appreciatively, but almost immediately fell into a look of disappointment.

“Mummy said you’re not coming to the party again.”

“That’s true, darling. Daddy has to stay home this year.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid I have things I need to do at home. But you and Mummy can still go to the party and have so much fun.”

“No.” She shook her head vigorously. “Mummy is always sad when you don’t come places. I don’t think she knows how to have fun without you Daddy.” The girl pouted.

Severus heart dropped in his chest. He knew his wife was disappointed in him staying at home, but he had always assumed she was out enjoying her time with her friends while he stewed in his self-pity.

“Doesn’t she dance with anyone at the party? I’ve never known your mother to miss out on an opportunity to frolic around a dancefloor.”

His daughter shook her head again, dark ringlet curls swishing through the air.

“She doesn’t even take part in the costume contests, which is rubbish because I bet she’d win every time. She just sits at a table all night watching everyone else have fun, it so boooooring.”

Severus’ mouth turned dry and he struggled to swallow past the lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe that the vibrant woman he had married would sit on the side-lines, dimming her light because of him. She was the life of the party, the one who went all in on everything she does, the one who makes everyone smile just by simply being in the same room them. She was everything he was not, which is why he loved her so much. He couldn’t bare the thought of her losing everything that makes her special because she always felt second best to a dead woman.

“Come with me.”

Severus took his daughter by her tiny warm hand and led her out of his office, but not before grabbing one last thing on his way out.

Yet another crack opened in his chest at the sight he stumbled upon in the kitchen.

His wife sat hunched over their dining table, sobbing into the palm on her hand, while tears poured down her cheeks, streaking her makeup as they fell.

“Y/N.” He croaked, laying his palm flat on her back.

The woman stiffened at this touch, quickly wiping away her tears and composing herself once more. She never let her husband see her cry.

“Oh, would you look at the time, sweetie.” Y/N gulped. “We better get going or else we’ll miss our chance to enter the costume contest, I really think we have a good chance at winning this year.” Her tone was unusually high pitched and alarmingly positive, but Severus could still hear the small sniffles she couldn’t repress every time she took a deep breath.

Y/N turned her back on Snape, rushing to the hooks by the door to grab her daughters coat and shoes.

“Y/N.” Severus repeated, his voice now full of pity.

“Like I said; we should be no later than 11, possibly earlier if this one has a sugar crash, but no need to wait up, I know you have more important things to do.” She didn’t dare even look in his direction.

Doing up the final button on her daughter’s coat, Y/N took her child by the hand and ushered her out the door.

“Y/N!” Snape said a final time, his tone firmer this time. “Look at me.” The woman froze on the spot but hesitated to face him.

Whispering in Delphine’s ear to go play, Y/N knew she couldn’t run from this conversation any longer.

Y/N forced her posture ramrod straight, tilted her chin up, took a long but shaky deep breath and finally turned to face her husband. It was obvious to him that she was trying her best to remain stoic, not wanting to show any weakness in front of the man who had none.

“You’ve made your choice, Severus. I can’t claim to understand it, but I’ll respect it. I know now that I’ll never be able to live up to the woman you first loved. I used to think that maybe if we were together long enough and I tried hard enough that I could be enough for you. I just wish I knew when I married you that would never be a possibility. I have always loved you, with every fibre of my being. I was foolish to think I deserved the same in return.”

“Y/N.”

“Stop saying my name. Please.” She squeezed her eyes shut tight, like it physically pained her to hear his voice. “Delphi deserves to have a stable home, so I’ll stay. But I can’t promise I’ll be the same woman I was. I’m sorry I couldn’t be enough for you.” A tear escaped Y/N’s eye, this time she let it fall. There was no need to be strong for a man who loved someone else.

“Shut up, you foolish woman.” Severus scorned.

“Excuse me? Don’t you dare talk to me like that I-”

“I made my choice a long time ago. I fell in love with an incredible woman. She was uncommonly kind, remarkably clever and surprisingly very funny. She had this ability to draw the attention of any crowd but somehow never made it about herself. Her smile could light up any room, turn any sad man happy. She would dance until her feet hurt, and then get up and do it again, even if it meant she had to go barefoot. She is singularly the most strikingly beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. I made my choice a very long time ago, Y/N.”

“I appreciate your honesty but I don’t want to hear it.” Another tear fell.

Snape slowly stepped towards his wife. He could see her shoulders tensing with every tap of his heel on the hardwood floor.

Severus wipes away her stray tears with his thumb, cupping Y/N’s face between two hands.

“The woman I fell in love with is so stubbornly strong, she has spent the last five years hiding away her tears from me. And it hurts me deeply that she thinks she could ever be second best to anyone. The day I met you was the day I realised I had never truly felt love before.  There is no second place in my eyes, you have always been the only one for me.”

“But what about- “

“She was my friend.” He interjected. “And I failed her in the worst possible way. Just as I have done with you; by not showing you how much you mean to me, that changes today. I’m coming to the party.”

“You don’t have to.” She tried to escape his embrace.

“I want to.” He pulled her closer. “For you and for Delphine; the only two girls who have ever mattered to me.”

Reaching into his pocket, Severus revealed the old photograph of him as a teen. He felt his wife’s breath hitch at the sight of it. The source of all her anguish, one silly little picture he had obsessed over his whole life. He wouldn’t subject her to that anymore.

With one singular rip, Severus tore the portrait right through the centre, severing himself from the past.

“No more.” He promised. “I love you, Y/N. No one else.”

[penvisions]

services requested {chapter six}

Pairing: Kept Man! Joel Miller x Sugar Momma! Reader

Summary: Time apart allows Joel to focus on the renovations of your home while you busy yourself with working alongside a close friend. But the way you to communicate in the meantime might be considered the complete opposite of the agreement to move slowly you two made...

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: Warnings: no outbreak au, modern au, age gap (joel is mid 50's, reader is late 20's / early 30's), reader is more of an oc written in the x reader style, reader is described to have a scar and tattoos, mommy vibes, reader see's joel and knows she wants to provide for him, joel is older and tired, power dynamics, sexual undertones, instant connection, mutual pining, flirting, casual touches, mutual attraction, angst, family drama, strained family dynamics, mentions of past trauma, mentions of physical attack (very brief), allusions to predatory behavior, allusions to power imbalances within the tattoo world, soft joel, oral (m receiving), um i think that's it?

A/N: OKAY I LIED ABOUT NOT POSTING WRITING but am now officially shifting into focus on finals lol this is a long one, but with the help of @lotusbxtch and @itsokbbygrlbutworsethistime i think the narrative worked out better than my first drafts. also if you were tagged in a poll post- tumblr decided to eat that and i haven't redone it yet lol

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You’re so warm.

You’re so comfortable.

Burrowed in the blankets with a breeze sneaking in through the screen of the cracked open balcony door, the smell of salt in the air like a soft balm.

You feel a weight beside you, creating a slight dip in the bed that you’re sunk into on your right. A huff of damp breath on lands on your shoulder in an even pattern, the brush of thick scruff there too and you smile hazily through the tendrils of sleep that don’t seem to want to let you go.

Everything is slow and syrupy, the way your body hums at a low frequency as you shift to your side, loose hair falling over your shoulder. It tickles and causes goosebumps to sprout along your shoulders, the soft fabric of your sleep tank top caressing in a way that makes you clench your thighs, nipples hardening at the cooler air that sweeps underneath the covers.

A small huff, a heavier breath hits your collarbone while a thick hand curls over the flare of your waist.

You dip your head low and press your lips to the tip of Joel’s nose, the skin so warm on your lips. A gentle one to the full pout of his bottom lip, to the butt of his chin, the column of his neck. Mind slow as sleep wanes naturally, you realize it’s some of the best sleep you’ve had in a while, because of the man who lays beside you.

He doesn’t stir but his lips purse the smallest bit as you gently push against his chest with both your hands onto his back. The hand around your waist drags over the fabric of your sleep shirt, pulling it with the deft weight but you pay it no mind as you continue to kiss down his sturdy body. He’s bare save for a pair of boxer briefs, his own shirt shucked off sometime in the night and his dark chest hair is soft against your palms as you caress him gently.

The sheets move with you both as you settle yourself over his legs, chest pressed to the thick trunks of his thighs, the little glimpses of ink below each knee sending a jolt of pleasure down your spine. He’s got such little tattoos, from the two you now know he has on his legs to the bullseye on the soft spot between his thumb and pointer finger on his left hand. They’re a little blown out with age and it makes you wonder how old he was when he got them. He’s got one on his inner right wrist as well, but you know the meaning behind it as your mom cried to you over the phone one day after moving into the neighborhood.

It's an ode to his mother.

Such a sweet, kindhearted man.

The total opposite of what you were used to and it…it mists your eyes a bit as you gaze up at his face from where you lean over his soft stomach. He’s good, you know it in your very soul. Even if your mind is taking a moment to catch up- always watching for signs to run. You really hope you wouldn’t have to run from him, he’s…he’s filled your life with so much and you’ve only known him for a handful of months.

You hope to know him for far longer.

You press the thought, the prayer, into the skin above his belly button, trialing your nails down the same path a dark trail of hair makes to his waistband. He’s half hard beneath the fabric on his waist, his chest rising and falling with deeper breaths as his body revels in your soft attention. His plush lips part as you nuzzle your cheek against the weight of him. He pulses as you do, again as you press a kiss to the length, to the head. Just as your fingers begin to trace the outline of him, your palm whispers over him until there’s suddenly a hand clamping down over yours and pressing it firmly against the full hardness that’s built up.

“Oh!” Your breath leaves you, completely caught up in your slow, sensual exploration of Joel’s body. Eyes flick up quickly to see him peering down at you with sleepy, hooded eyes. But there’s no mistaking how dilated his pupils are, how fast his breathing turned.

Without a word, he’s helping you push the elastic down and the thick, hardness of him springs up. It lays heavy against the softness of his belly and you keep your eyes locked on his as you lean in and lick a stripe up the underside. The moan that breaks free from his chest is deep, a rumble you feel in your bones and sends pleasure skittering over your skin like lightning.

The skin below tightens, draws up and you feel the bump of his balls on the sensitive skin of your neck, heady and so fucking soft. You lean back a little to press a kiss there, a garbled sound floating into the air as Joel’s neck arches, head flat against the pillow to display his messy curls in a halo around his beautiful face. With steady hands, you cup them and massage the velvet skin, nails scratching delicately. His cock twitches and you feel powerful.

But you don’t abuse it, keeping your attention soft but steady as you reach underneath just a little to rub the pad of your middle finger just behind them.

“Sh-shit-!” His large hands tangle in your hair, almost holding you in place. His knuckles pop and his hips jerk, the heat of him lands against your cheek, smearing his arousal there. You reach for him, wrapping a firm hand around the base and circle your tongue to taste where it leaks from him, eyes peering through lashes to see him staring down at you with such a wrecked expression.

With a small nod, more of a twitch of his chin, you wrap your lips around him and hum.

He’s sitting up suddenly, pushing your shoulders back to duck his gaze and see your own wild eyes.

“I want to see you, will you let me?” His hands clench around the fabric, the pull of it taut to stretch over your breasts and give him a visual of how hard your nipples are. The jiggle of the flesh there taunts him, makes his tongue heavy in his mouth for the feel of it between his teeth. You lean back on your haunches, making such a pretty picture for him in the dimly lit room, the sunlight sneaking in from where the balcony curtains aren’t quite shut all the way. The fabric is tugged over your head, thrown to the end of the bed and he gulps as he takes in your full figure.

“Perfect, darlin’,” He presses the compliment to your collarbone as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer.

“Just…no um, no looking down there.” You whisper, self-consciousness and a little flutter of nerves lighting you up along with the pleasure of feeling him so close. You nipples brush his bare chest and your lashes flutter, head knocking back as he peppers kisses to your shoulders and neck. “But you can touch.”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with is good enough for me.” And then he captures your lips in a searing kiss and maneuvers you back down on the bed.

“Dad has a crush on the neighbor’s daughter.” Ellie says as soon as Sarah and her pull up to the pickup line at the airport. Joel is standing there in a nicer pair of jeans they’ve never seen before paired with a silk shirt that has abstract splotches of color. The glitter of a gold chain about his neck and the screen of his phone flash in the bright sunlight. He’s peering down at the screen through a new pair of sunglasses, thumbs working fast as he types into the device with a crooked smile.

“No way! I can’t believe you didn’t tell me as soon as you landed,” Sarah pouts, eyes watching the way her father is completely absorbed in what he’s doing. “Is that why he flew in separately?”

“Dude, it was straight out of one of your romance novels! Grey’s mom came over to give him the keys for some work he’ll be doing on her house because she left on a trip. And man, the moment he knew she was about to board a plane alone- he took off! He literally just-“ Ellie mimes turning a wheel harshly and screeches lowly to imitate tired peeling on the street.

“He’s never really showed interest in anyone before,” Sarah muses as she catches sight of her dad throwing his head back in a deep laugh- she can practically feel the vibrations of the loud wheezing that sound when he does. His curls bounce and the dimple in his right cheek creates a shadow amid his trimmed scruff. He’s fucking glowing and it makes her feel warm all over- all she’s ever wanted for him is to be happy.

“He spent the past few days with her in fuckin’ LA. That’s where he’s been, not some job or whatever he might’ve told you.”

“He didn’t say much, just said that something came up but he’d be here.”

“She’s badass, Sar. Like full fledged tattoo artist with a giant following. She’s hired him as like a personal contractor, he’s gonna help build her new shop front. Keep him busy without breaking his back, like he tends to do throwing himself into jobs he takes on too close to each other. Her only works for her and whatever else he chooses to take outside of that.”

“He can focus on his woodworking…” Sarah feels an immense relief, the worry of him being on job site after job site with little to know space between them easing at the thought of him being able to have more agency to pick his work now.

“He always did like that a little more, making the cabinets and furniture for the places he does remodels on…” Ellie continues, thinking the same thing but also knowing that you would give him better compensation, better budgets, a reason to continue with a little more caution than throwing himself into everything he can take on to keep the business afloat. She’s already a witness to the shift in Joel’s energy, the way he doesn’t sluggishly wake each morning before the sun rises after practically collapsing into the bed or couch at a late hour.

“Should we ask her to get a workshop, so he has more room than the garage?” It’s a question that neither of them know you’ve considered already.

“He’d never ask for it himself.”

Then Sarah is honking the horn to finally get Joel’s attention, and his head snaps up.

“There’s just one more thing…” Ellie’s voice dips, as if she’s almost…nervous to say the thing stuck in her throat.

“She’s around our age isn’t she?”

“She’s got about six years on us.”

Just as Joel opens the back door of the SUV, they break the conversation up and greet him with enthusiasm.

“So, a- uh, friend of mine, got us some open reservations for a spa and a nice steakhouse we should pin down times for. Gift for all of us.”

“Hell yeah, happy dad’s birthday!”

“Happy dad’s birthday!” Sarah cheers as she shifts the gear into drive with a glance in the rearview mirror. Joel is looking down at his phone with a goofy smile and she mirrors that too as she drives off from the pickup zone.

Your phone is trilling before you even realize you’ve pressed the call button. But it’s still set on the table as your eyes rove over to where your friend wandered off to. She’s barely at the bar when a man approaches her, arms displaying beautiful ink. Her eyes drag over him, her attention caught completely, and you can’t help but giggle at the heat behind their eye contact even from so far away.

“Sweetheart, everythin’ okay? All I hear is loud music and I think you just giggled. Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice is like a faint breeze, not quite registering in that moment as you feel the pulse of the bass playing from the speakers and your eyes follow the colored flashes of exposed skin and shadows from the lights that illuminate the club in an erotic way. The alcohol in your system is making everything glow and tingle, captivating your mind and making you feel like you’re truly living. Moments like that still few and far between, even if it’s been nearly six months since you’ve completely revamped your life.

“Hey there, looks like my friend and your friend have left us in the dust.” A tall, gorgeous man approaches you and slides into the seat that is now empty. “How about another round on me until they make their way back?”

“Grey!” Joel hollers, not wanting to hear whatever is going on and unsure if you dialed him on accident, he turns the muted television off in the room Sarah’s given him for the week. It’s the downstairs one of the townhouse, Ellie upstairs in the other, so there’s no chance of anyone hearing the slight desperation in his tone. You hear him this time and scrabble for your phone.

“Sorry, this is important!” And you scurry up and out the front door, waving at your friend to signal you were stepping out. Your voice is sweet like honey, thick and drawling a bit like his does when he’s tired at the end of the day or just woken up from a good night’s sleep. “Hiiii, Joel, how long have you been on the line?”

“A few minutes, where are you, are you okay?” Joel doesn’t dare ask after the voice that approached you…you two hadn’t exactly talked out the specifics of what ‘going slow’ meant when it came to the attraction you shared. He knows he isn’t the type to give attention to someone else while traversing this shifting dynamic with you, but you’re younger and you encounter far more interesting people than him on nearly an hourly basis.

“Yes, yes, yes. I am A-okay, how are you?” He can hear the slur of your words, the breathy way you’re speaking, he can practically smell the rose of your perfume mixed with whatever alcohol you’ve obviously consumed. “I was thinking about you, the bed is so big without you in it.”

Good lord, he thinks as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Disjointed memories of your skin underneath his roaming hands, the whimpers he kissed from your lips as he pulled pleasure from you, his own skin prickling even as heat races down his spine and he huffs out a disbelieving laugh, you’re drunk dialing him.

“Are-are you havin’ a good time, sweetheart?”

“Ye-ah, but- but if I have one more person come up to me and tell me a corny pick-up joke, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Don’t like ‘em?”

“I…I like them, but not if someone is serious about it.”

“Well,” And Joel settles into the bed, pulling the covers over him even as he bends his knees and feels the length of his cock between his thighs. The hardness there begs for attention, for hands to caress, but he’s alone and only has your voice on the other side of the line. His voice dips deeper, like gravel heated by the sun in midday and he murmurs into the phone. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing?”

You make a sinful little sound, like a whimper that you’ve clamped down by biting your bottom lip. And he knows he’s done good if the pulse of his cock is any indication.

“Are you askin’ me if I’m wearing underwear, Mr. Miller?” He groans, reaching to press a palm to his cock, the fabric damp where the tip of him strains.

“Fuck, are you?” He rasps out before he can stop it, this was supposed to be a joke to soothe your annoyance. But it feels very, very real.

“Nope.” You’re all smooth confidence when the ‘p’ pops and he pictures the purse of your lips around the word.

He’s about to say something else but then the line goes dead. He tries to call but it goes straight to voicemail and then his text just displays ‘sent’. Feeling considerably cock-blocked, he realizes that your phone must’ve died. So he does what any sane person would do and checks your socials. The Instagram page that he had last seen was your old one, kept up for now set to private for reasons regarding your ongoing litigation with the court system. But he got the name of your actual one and scans the profile.

There’s a video of you dancing with the friend you must be out with, all strobing lights and bumping music, a scene he’d never frequented himself even before Sarah came along. He scrolls through the photos as his body calms down from your exchange, seeing flashes of your life through them. He can clearly see the transition from where you were before to where you are now in Austin.

His heart skips a beat when he notices the back of his head and shoulders in one photo, his hands dirty with dried mortar as he lay tiles down in your parents kitchen. Tendrils of your loose hair blur the corner of the photo- you must’ve leaned over him when he was caught up in the work.

And then there’s a new photo of you that resets his spot in the middle of your feed to the very top.

It must’ve been set to post because he really does think your phone died in the hectic outing you’re on.

It looks professional, your make-up is done and you’re standing in front of a shopfront, the shot taken from far enough away for him to see the name painted onto the building’s façade. The post is announcing your guest residence at the shop with the date for tomorrow being the grand opening, inviting people to drop by to mingle and make an appointment in person. Your assistants information and profile is linked for a better shot at securing something.

Joel saves the photo and assigns it to your contact before locking his phone and settling into the bed completely.

“Beau?” You call as you open the door to the shop you’ll be working at for the time being, guest spots are always tricky but they get good word of mouth and social traction online. You want to help make your friends own dream a success and if that means spending some time in Los Angeles, then who are you to disagree?

“Ba-by, you made it!” The second you’re through the door, a figure encloses you into their arms and squeezes you. Easy laughter rings out as you wrap your arms around the tall man and brace for the spin you know he’s about to do. Lifting you easily, he does. Spinning you a few times before he settles you back down on your feet.

“Beau, you are as energetic as ever.” You press your chin into his chest and simply breathe. This man, you feel so incredibly safe with this man. He’s seen you through your worst moments, helped you to escape a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in. Beat the crap out of your ex-husband when he found out what had you ignoring his calls and disappearing from a shared social scene. Helped to testify against the bastard and get you a good protection clause from the judge that resided over your case. He’s a good man. One of your true friends, he hadn’t turned on you like some of the others. Siding with the wrong person in an obvious person in a black and white situation.

“All for you, baby.” He leans down to press his lips to your forehead, and you deflate into him. He holds your weight and simply holds you. Something you’ve grown an aversion to, basic human contact beyond that required of your trade. Joel is the only other one who’s felt safe enough.

“Wait a minute…” Beau is pushing you back a little to look over your face and he sees the spark in your eyes that’s been gone for far too long, lingering below the surface but not shining through. “You totally had sex, didn’t you?”

Your answering scoff and avoidance of eye contact is all the answer he needs.

“You did, is that why you didn’t come out last night?”

“He actually left two days ago and Kumi dragged me out to some really loud club down on Sunset.”

“Hmm, I know the place,” His green eyes watch you as you avoid his gaze. Knowing you’ll share your thoughts with him in your own time.

“We didn’t… have sex.” You detangle yourself from him and begin to look over the decorated entry way to the shop. Completed but not open yet, that would be tomorrow, after the little party to kick off the announcement held tonight. You approach the counter, glittering body jewelry beneath shining glass and open one of the binders laid out atop it.

“But you did let someone in your pants,” Beau rests the length of an arm against the countertop and leans on his shoulder to watch you with soft eyes.  

“Well, more like I got into his, but-“ You wave a hand at him while the other leafs through a binder atop the counter that will act as a check in and transaction point for the shop. “Semantics.”

“Grey, that’s so good to hear. And not because I’m a raging pervert like you like to tease.” He reaches a hand out to latch onto your wrist. “This is genuinely good, you deserve to feel comfortable and to have someone you care about like that.”

“It…it scares me.” You confess in a small voice.

“That means it’s real.”

Ellie is all but shoving her phone under his nose one evening as he melts into the couch, head leaning back over the top of the backing cushions. He’d finished the flooring installation in your kitchen, the bathrooms, put plush carpet down in your bedroom and upstairs hallway today. His back aches and his knees keep clicking but he doesn’t mind if it means you’ll have the perfect house.

“Geez, kid, gonna pop me one like that.” He rights himself a little, hand taking the device from her small one. Pulled up on her screen are photos you’ve posted within the hour. You’re standing wrapped up in the arms of a man, posing for the camera with a wide smile and a lot of skin on display. The name of a magazine branded above you both, your names listed on in smaller text beside your center image. The announcement for the shop you’ve flown all across the desert for in print.

“She’s gonna be gone a while, says she’s helping to get everything off the ground and running.” Joel hears her as he scrolls through the caption announcing as much, a month- a little more and many thanks and praises for the press and the friend you’re helping that can only be the man wrapped around you.

He’s fucking handsome, Joel will admit that much. But not the twinge of jealousy that rises and wans in his chest quickly.

“Yeah, she’s pretty important.”

“She also teased the announcement of her own shop opening soon. The one you’re building. She put your name and said some pretty nice things about you in the article.”

“I am buildin’ it for her.”

“Yes, dad, I know.” Joel looks up from the little edited video of you seated and hunched over someone’s back as you outline a giant formation of flowers surrounding a cattle skull. Your concentration is furrowing your brow, your arms flexing with the wipe of the spot you’re working on before you press the tip of the tattoo machine back down. The video flashes to a party inside the shop the post is about, so many beautiful people mingling and laughing. Tilted party hat atop your head as you and your friend raise shining flutes in a cheer.

“The last slide is of her talking about, um, the thing you told me about.”

‘Ah, yes, I was waiting for you to ask about that.’

‘Only if you don’t mind sharing some of what happened. We know that you’re currently going through the court system but have always been vocal about equality and personal safety within the scene. But we do, unfortunately, see it all the time in this industry. The play of power and the intimacies that develop between apprentices and the people leading them into the scene.’

‘My own experience was a little extreme, but rest assured, the shops and people I associate with are vetted and do not tolerate anything toxic. Or that could lead to toxic behavior developing. We really want to try and nurture positive energy here, with the work we do and the spaces we create. It’s about the art, about the sharing of something that can be so deeply personal to everyone that walks through the door.’

‘You’ve worked alongside a lot of officials to try and change general contract wording, to raise awareness for the things that have happened and could still happen in these spaces. But we still see the almost…defense for the people who dole out the quid pro quo exchange of sexual favors in exchange for guidance and teaching of skills when they meet a certain… standard of appearance.’

‘Yes, we do see a lot of defense for perpetrators in those cases. People romanticize situations that can crop up. Things along the lines of ‘they can train me any day’ or ‘learning a new skill and sharing a bed, sounds like a dream come true’. But it’s not. The trauma of being asked that let alone accepting the conditions proposed by someone in a higher standing than you, it’s…it’s a disrespect to both the art and the parties involved. Infatuation and physical attraction are one thing, reading about those types of relationships in books and online, but…there is that rare instance that a genuine connection can bloom from spending so much time with someone and working alongside them day after day.’

‘We’re erring into fantasy territory and the like, wouldn’t you think?’

‘Haha, yes we very much are. And that’s okay! Fantasy and exploring situations in which you find tempting or even as a way to cope with things that have happened to you are all a part of being human. So long as all parties involved give full consent and are okay with playing out scenarios, go right ahead with your little horny selves. But don’t forget the real-life trauma of human connection shattering when it’s not and certain lines are crossed that shouldn’t be.’

‘Genuine connection is the whole reason we’re here, isn’t it? Finding an artist that can convey the thing you want and then creating it for you to permanently place on your skin. Finding friends and making social connections with those in a shop that you feel comfortable it. Finding a scene that accepts you as you are and helps you to be more yourself.’

‘Couldn’t have said it better myself. We’re all just looking for that- to feel seen, to really connect with someone. Someone taking advantage of another person’s vulnerability in any way is a fucking disgrace.’

‘There you have it, be nice, be respectful and believe that Grey here will put you behind bars if you so much as think of abusing your power in the tattoo scene!’

Laughter fades out as the video ends, the screen going blank in his hand.

“She’s really somethin’, ain’t she?” He’s completely unaware of the look Ellie gives him as his eyes close and he feels a comforting warmth in his chest. You’re so eloquent, so free with the things you share for the sake of others, the best kind of good that he can’t believe he’s been privy to in quiet and shared moments.

“She’s a fucking badass.”

“Shit.” Joel’s tires screech as he breaks to a stop right outside your house, truck idling in the street as he notices a foreign car in the driveway. He feels his heart thud heavily in his chest as he realizes that he can see a shadow pass by the living room window to reappear in the kitchen one. Frowning, he pulls the truck into the drive beside it and puts it into park, making sure to block the exit way if the person comes running out.

You weren’t due home for a few more days, and he was just driving by to see if something for the backyard had been delivered. He can hear the blood rushing in his ears as he grabs a hammer from the cab’s small back seat where his tool belt is set. He can’t hear anything but the rustling of boxes being moved, but they should be securely in the garage alongside your vehicle. The door opens, unlocked and he frowns at that. He remembers locking it two days ago when he had finished painting. He was set to assemble the furniture he made you, some of it based on the things you linked in an email or you were trying to find things that measured correctly for the new dimensions of spaces. Some of it he bought outright with the card supplied to him and others he put built himself.

Rattling sounds from the kitchen and he slowly approaches the threshold from the entryway. He raises the hammer and rounds the trim he just replaced.

“Drop it!” He barks, voice bellowing deep and loud.

“Shit!” You squeak, scrabbling for the chef’s knife you just unpacked from one of the boxes that has the label ‘kitchenware’ on it. You wield it tightly, held high as you turn around, blood rushing in your ears as you brace for an attack. You can hardly hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears and your vision is sharp, almost too bright as you take in the form of a large man in the doorway that leads into the rest of the house.

The second Joel’s eyes land on you between the island and the counter that runs along the opposite wall, he’s lowing the hammer and taking a deep breath. All of the rage and anger leaving him as he realizes he just scared the crap out of you. Guilt slams into him as he see’s you almost frozen, your chest the only thing moving as your breaths come and go too fast for his liking.

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so sorry!” He’s setting it on the island and rounding the corner as the knife clatters to the ground from your shaking, his voice triggering the tremors. He hovers while you seem frozen in place, not sure if he should reach for you. “I thought it was someone stealin’.”

You turn away from him and his heart stutters at the tears you try to hide with the action. But he doesn’t reach for you, even as you wrap your arms around yourself.

There’s a honk that sounds from the street and he curses before saying he’ll be right back. You hear the tires of his truck along the road before you hear the engine cut off. Just as he’s walking back through the door, closing and locking it behind him you’ve wiped the tears away and offer him a watery twitch of your mouth.

“Did you really leave your truck running in the street?”

“Well, uh,” He pockets his keys and looks a little bashful as he looks over the open boxes and the way your sandals slide along the new tile. “I thought someone was in your house and-“

“You’re a silly man,” You walk right up to him, despite the little trembles that shake your hands still. His breathing picks up. Leaning up, you press a kiss to his jawline. “But admirable.”

“Did you take a look around, everythin’ to your liking?” He deflect. But you allow him the grace and follow him around the house as he shows you the minor work he’s done in your time away. Parting with another apology for startling you and a brush of his knuckles against your cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear afterwards.

“Knock knock!” A distant voice calls, pulling your focused attention from the tablet you’re trying to connect to the printer. The bell above the door jingles even if the door doesn’t open, though someone is certainly trying to get in through it. You set the tablet down atop your station and peer around the corner toward the lobby. Ellie is peering through the glass with a cupped hand and her face breaks into a silly smile when she spies you.

“Grey! Lemme in, yeah?”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” You project your voice with a smirk as you approach the door and clock the lock open.

“I’m such a pleasure.” She winks at you before looking all along the walls and taking in the heavily decorated space. “So…I’m actually here to ask you something.”

“Is your dad okay?” Panic flares suddenly, thinking the worst of things that could happen. Her next words don’t exactly lend comfort but they do dispel the extremes floating in your mind.

“Dad’s fine, but it is about him. Not even complaining about the way that he nearly broke his finger yesterday hammerin’ something all to hell in the garage.”

“Okay?” You worry for a moment about that statement, but you look around the small parking lot to find only your own vehicle. “Did you take the bus here?”

“What? Oh yeah, no car equals public transport.” She waves off your concern, mind already thinking of a way to approach the subject with Joel. Ellie is tough, but with school in the middle of a semester you wonder how she’s getting to and from campus safely. “I wanted to ask you about the city block you bought.”

“Sarah and I have been trying to get him to sell his woodworking for years, but he’s always got this list of excuses, ya know? Too much space to rent, doesn’t have the proper tools, doesn’t have the time blah blah blah.”

“Ellie, are you asking me to ask your dad to build himself the perfect spot for him to exactly that?” You could almost laugh at the very same thought process you were trying to nail down into more a more concrete idea.

“Well, yeah. I know you aren’t exactly…shy about doin’ stuff for him and this would help him to maintain a hobby.” She shrugs, though you see the way her fingers twitch at her sides- exactly like how Joel’s do when he’s nervous or thinking something over to hard, accessing.

“I’m not shy about doing stuff for him, you’re right. But he- uh- this is kinda big.”

“But you’ll try?” She holds out a hand for you to shake, an agreement between the two of you. Obliging her, as you really didn’t know what to do with the space other than to potentially rent it out to artists for shows or as a shop front for a local business looking for a new space, gifting it to Joel makes perfect sense.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” You clasp your hand with hers and shake it.

“I’m really glad you two met and not just cause you’re loaded,” She laughs something bright. “Not just cause of that, but he’s also…happier.”

“He makes me happy too.” You confess to her. Her eyes catching on the print with a bunch of different moths framed on the wall has your mind shifting into business mode. Watching closely as her hand coming up to rub at the thick scar tissue on her right forearm.

“You know…I can draw one of those up for you to put there.” Her face swings up to you, smiling softly at her. “If you want?”

“Well, well, well.” You trill as you lift your sunglasses from their perch on your nose up to the top of your head. The sounds of drills and hammering echo all around and the very real frame of your shop stands in front of you on half of a city block downtown. But that’s not what has your attention- it’s Joel Miller in a rather fitting shirt and dirty pair of jeans walking towards you with a little sway of his slim hips.

The broadness of his shoulders, the way his boots give him an extra inch or two over you. Your eyes linger on the way his jeans are held up by a sturdy belt and just below that…is a tool belt laden with different gleams of metal and wood.

“Like what you see?” He’s smirking at you as he raises his hands up and spreads them wide, flashing you a bit of his tan abdomen as the hem of his shirt lifts up.

“I know I do!” One of his men holler from somewhere within the collection of lumber planks that will eventually be your home away from home.

“Shut it, Hank!” He tosses over his shoulder with a little frown. His voice is a bark that stirs something in you, but it isn’t fear. “Let’s get on the exterior!”

“Be nice, they love you.”

“We do not!” A chorus bellows out and you try to muffle your laughter behind a hand when Joel’s shoulders inch up closer to his ears.

“Hear that? That’s the thanks I get for keepin’ on their sorry asses in the shift from public to private business.”

“What about me?” You project your voice, ducking around Joel’s reach for you. Your boots scuff the ground and stir up dust. You click the fob for your trunk to open and the smell of baked goods and fresh coffee float through the air. All sounds of work stop and Joel rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms- watching the way the five guys rush toward you both. His biceps bulge at the action and your eyes snag there as a smug smile breaks out on your face.

He catches the look and dips his head when your eyes flash up to his, he feels like he’s won the little exchange until you turn around and bend over to retrieve the supplies from your trunk and your short skirt inches up to reveal the backs of your thighs, the ink there soaking in the warm sun and stalling his breath.

He’s about to approach you when the guys flow past him with quick steps and loud praise for you and the breakfast you’re gracing them with. You smoothly step aside, though none of them reach to pat you on the shoulder or a fist bump, they know and respect the way you aren’t fond of causal touch. Joel’s heart titters as he watches the tension in your shoulders remain until they’re all over by the trailer used as an office and the tables in front of it for them to have somewhere to sit for breaks.

The pastry box is open, the large to go coffee carafes are set up and the small collection of creamers and sweeteners you brought are removed from paper grocery bags and placed into the serving tray full of the ice they’ve cut out of a plastic one. It’s cute, the way you tried to get a little of everything for them, for him. But it seems you’re holding out on the others as you hold out a square of foil to him. It’s warm when he takes it, fingers brushing yours.

“Foreman gets a breakfast sammie,” He resists the urge to pull you into him and wrap his arms around you, to press a kiss to your temple in thanks. “I…also wanted to run somethin’ by you.”

“Let’s-“ And then he is touching you, a hand at the small of your back to guide your willing body toward the trailer. “Let’s go inside if it’s gonna be more than a minute.”

“Okay.”

Once inside, with cooler air surrounding you both and you’re alone do your shoulders finally loose that tension held there in the muscles.

“So the second building, we’ve got the parameters for the outline. Marked ‘em.” He brings out the blueprints for the entire block when you ask after them, his sandwich held in one hand as he takes a bite and watches the way your eyes rove over the flattened paper. Long nails trace the markers and then the small lot for parking that will be filled and paved in a few days’ time.

“I wanted to talk to you about how to design the space the best way for a workshop.”

“Sure, I can do some research. What kinda workshop were you thinin’?” He says around a mouthful, reaching for the water bottle he’s got on the desk.

“Well, I don’t want you to think I’m like trying to keep you on a leash or like within my sights or-or- or something like that-but um, a woodworking shop?”

“Why would I think- oh,” His gaze knocks up from where he’s sitting down. “That’s…that’s a lot to offer…me.”

“But it’s…it’s okay that I’m offering?”

“Of course it is, sweetheart, but it’s- it’s a lot.”

“I just…I love what I do and you’re making me the space I’ve always dreamed of.” You sit on the edge of the desk, fixing your skirt to cover your thighs. “I just wanted to offer you a space of your own and the girls, they said…they said it would be a good thing for you to have it away from home. A shopfront to sell your cabinets or furniture and-“

“You and the girls talked it over?” Wide eyes, brown and captivating in their expressiveness train on you, causing your chest to feel tight and your palms to sweat despite the ac running in the small space.

“We did, they care about you so much, Joel. They want you to have everything you want and I-I do too.”

“You want me to have everythin’ I want or that you care about me?” He’s rounding the desk and stands in front of you, hands twitching at his sides.

“Both, Joel.” You take in everything about his hopeful expression, the pure goodness of him. “And that terrifies me.”

You wring your hands together, a little nervous to bare true emotions even in the company of someone who has been nothing but honest with you in turn.

“I thought about you every day I was gone and that’s…that’s new for me to miss someone. I mean, I’m barely a year out from being divorced and you-I, Joel, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Missed you too,” He connects the things he feels with the ones you’re telling him you feel, bridging the gap in a way that he never anticipated doing again.

“Sometimes…genuine connection sneaks up on you.” His palms curl over your knees and he’s stepping between them as he parts them.

“Are you quoting me to me?” You narrow your eyes at him, a little self-conscious that he saw the stuff circulating online. It wasn’t that you didn’t regret the things you said in that impromptu interview, but that it was your heart on display for the world to see. You could handle what the world may say but Joel…you cared about what he thought.

“More like paraphrasing.” His lips brush against yours, so fucking close but not quite touching fully. You feel the way he rolls them, feel the wet heat tease of his tongue as he runs it along his bottom lip. “I’m only teasin’…a little.”

Just as you open your mouth to connect it with his, the door to the trailer swings open.

You jump up, nails digging into Joel’s arms nearly breaking his nose with how your head flies up. Joel too, has pushed away, head swinging around to the door.

Tommy Miller stands there, his looks of surprise hardening into one of thinly veiled anger at the sight of you two tearing apart like a couple of guilty teenagers.

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[awkness]

No Man Is An Island (Part 2)

(Paternal Platonic Yandere oc & Injured Teenage Genderneutral Reader)

(Part 1)

After discovering the flare gun the Henry kept hidden and the confrontation that comes after, you become more determined to leave the island. But Henry becomes more determined to make you stay

Content warning: forced confinement, delusional thinking, briefly mentioned death, general yandere stuff. This one's pretty mild tbh

Word count: 5.7k

Authors note: okay. I know this has taken forever to put out after I said I would and tbh I have no excuse. I just suck at keeping a decent writing schedule lol. This is going to the finale for the series because plot wise, this is the best stopping point. However, if anyone has any suggestions for little drabbles or oneshots I would be okay with writing them. Henry is a fun little critter to write for

You stare down at the flare gun in your hands, trying desperately to grapple with the implications of it existing in Henry's room

How long did he have this here? Why didn't he tell anyone he found it? Why didn't he use it last night when the plane was flying over the island?

While you scramble for answers, you hear a commotion coming from the entrance of the cave. You dully realize that Henry and his fishing group had come back

Adrenaline kicks in, and you shove the flare gun back in its bag and tuck it into its hiding place. You don't know why you're so afraid, but there is something in you that doesn't want Henry to catch you with it

You're making your way to the cave entrance when Henry spots you, walking up to you and telling you about what they've caught: clams, crabs, and whatever else could be foraged

Under normal circumstances, you would be happily talking with him, excited about the successful fishing trip and grateful you didn't have to eat sea cucumbers again. But this time, you were nodding along distractedly, letting Henry carry the conversation as your mind stayed preoccupied with the flare gun that rested a few feet away

He noticed how distracted you were, and he became concerned, asking if you were okay, or if you were starting to get sick, as you seemed pale. He had become much more vigilant over your health since you blacked out after hitting your head a few weeks ago

You reassured him that everything was fine and that you were only hungry. It seemed to have convinced him, and he happily walked you down to the small cooking fire just outside of the cave where everyone else was gathered

As you sat around the fire eating, you found yourself unable to listen to the conversations happening around you, absorbed in your own thoughts about the flare gun and everything its existence implied

Your first thought was to tell the others, let them know that Henry had kept something so vital hidden away from the group because... you couldn't fathom why. Or maybe you could, you just couldn't bear the thought

But that was a serious accusation to makend, especially against Henry, who everyone looked up to not only as a leader but as a means of survival. If you were being honest, you're pretty sure the entire group would have died long ago without him, and everyone knew it. They practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and no one dared to question his word. Their faith in him was unshakable. Why would they believe he kept something so important from them?

Besides, even in the best case scenario where everyone believed you, what could they do? Even though a couple of the people have managed to pick up on his hunting and fishing skills, they weren't at the point where they could sustain the group on their hunts alone. Henry was still pulling in about half the group's food. Everyone was dependent on him, especially you

Despondent, you resolved to keep knowledge of the flare gun to yourself. Instead, when Henry left tomorrow to go hunting again, you would take the flare gun and hide it somewhere only you knew, so that the next time a plane or boat passed by, you would stand a chance to get off the island

As you were deep in thought, you failed to notice the way Henry kept glancing your way, a suspicious look in his eyes

Later that night, when you were getting ready for bed, doubt and anxiety clouded your mind. What if he had a good reason for keeping the flare gun hidden this entire time? What if you were making a mistake in trying to take it from him?

Logically, you knew there was no good reason to keep the flare gun a secret, but your mind couldn't fully accept it. Henry had been nothing but kind to you since the moment you crashed here, a safe, stable presence you could depend on without fault. Even with physical proof and the weird conversation you had the night your group saw the plane, you still couldn't believe he would do this

You wanted to confront him about it, but your more rational side held you back. Still, youu still wanted to ask him something, anything, just to know if you were making the right decision

So you blurted out the first thing you thought of

"If you were home right now, what would you do?"

He looked up briefly from where he was fixing the palm leaves on his makeshift bed, a slightly bewildered look on his face.

"Home?"

"Yeah. If you were magically transported back home right now, what would you do?"

He gave a small chuckle as an easygoing smile spread on his face.

"Kid, this is my home."

Your heart rate spiked at his words and you shifted in your seat.

"Okay, fine. If you were taken back to the mainland, what would you do?"

"I'd do everything I could to get back."

A brief moment elapsed as the weight of his words sunk in.

"And you? What would you do if you were back there?"

His words were casual, but there was something hopeful and searching in his eyes.

You spoke honestly.

"I would find my family, and I would have them take me home."

He gave you a slight smile and a nod, but it was all wrong. Even in the dim light, you could see that it was tight and sour, like he was fighting to keep it on his face

You didn't bother speaking after that, and neither did he. You simply went to bed. As you lay awake on your own pile of crushed bamboo and palm leaves in the dark, listening to the snores of your fellow survivors and the buzzing of a million insects both in and out of your cave, any doubt about what you needed to do was gone. You were going to take the flare gun and rebuild the signal fire on the coast, even if you had to do it by yourself

When morning came, your nerves were calm, making it easier to play along with your normal morning routine. Wake up at sunrise, gather water so you could bathe, and then wave goodbye to Henry and the rest of his hunting group as they went to get breakfast.

As soon as they disappeared into the trees, you went back into the cave to grab the flare gun

You found the bag right where you left it, but something was off. It didn't feel right. You opened the bag to find a moderately sized rock inside. No flare gun in sight

Shakily, you put the rock inside and tucked it back into its hiding spot. Only one thought rattled inside your head: he knew

You stand there for the longest time, shock keeping you rooted to the spot before you got a hold of yourself. With little choice left, you grabbed the flint and steel that Henry kept in his side of the cave and hurried out as fast as your makeshift crutches could carry you

As you passed the cave entrance, you barely took notice of the person tending to the cooking fire, Jessica, you think, until she called your name

You turned and she began to ask you about where you were going and why you looked so distressed

This was... odd. You knew this girl or, to be more precise, knew of her. With everyone living so close together, of course you had talked to her before, but it was never over anything meaningful. She had certainly never asked where you were going or expressed concern for you before. Hell, it took her a few weeks to even learn your name!

You told her you were headed for the beach, and that seemed to make her nervous. She stammered out something about how the weather would turn bad soon, and that you should stay inside of the cave. You looked up, and the sky was clear. Not a cloud in sight. You then stared back at her nervous face for a moment, not a word exchanged between you two, before heading towards the beach

She quickly got up and followed you, saying something about how she had wanted to go on a walk anyway

As you made the trip, you gathered whatever dry wood you could find, making Jessica carry it for you

When you made it to the edge of the beach, you gathered up the wood and began striking the flint and steel, trying to get a flame to catch. Jessica stood off to the side, shifting in place while eyeing the jungle, neither offering help nor discouragement

After a few minutes, a small flame caught, and you gently blew on it to get it to grow, until it was able to survive on its own. Slowly, you began feeding it dried twigs and sticks

Jessica eventually decided to sit next to you, watching the flame for a while before asking you why you built one so far away from the caves

You explained that you wanted a signal fire on the beach so passing ships and planes could see you. Something sad and conflicted crossed her face as she tried to tell you it had been nearly half a year, and that no one was coming. You cut her off and told her that as long as you were alive, there was hope of leaving. She didn't say anything else, and you didn't either

The sun crawled across the sky, and the temperatures rose with it. Jessica tried to get you to head back to the caves to get food or at least some water, but you refused. You may be thirsty, hungry, and miserable from the humidity and the exertion it took to walk out here with a broken leg, but the thought of returning made your blood run cold. Something inside of you said that if you made the choice to go back, then it was all over. You would never be able to leave the island

By mid-afternoon, Jessica left, mumbling something about going to get water. You didn't acknowledge her, almost certain she wasn't coming back

When you heard the sound of footsteps half an hour later, you thought she had actually returned. Surprised, you looked up to greet her, only to see Henry smiling, a jug of water in his hand and a couple of skewered fish in the other

You reluctantly accepted the food and water, and the both of you sat in silence while you ate

The sun was starting to set by the time Henry tried asking you about the fire. You didn't respond. He kept pressing the issue, then tried switching to different subjects, asking about your leg, how you were feeling, anything and everything to get you to talk. Eventually, you interrupted him

"Where's the flare gun?"

That got him to shut up. For a moment, he said nothing, staring into the fire like it could give him the answer. Finally, he spoke.

"... For a while, there, I thought I was being paranoid when I moved it. That I read the situation wrong. But then Jessica came back and told me where you were, and I realized I never doubted my decision, I just didn't want to be right. I was afraid of having this talk. "

"Where is it?"

"Bottom of the ocean."

Your heart plummeted to your stomach, but Henry pressed on.

"I know you're not gonna believe me, kid, I don't expect you to. It still sounds crazy to me, but it's true."

"After... the accident, I was lost. All I had ever wanted was to be a dad, and it was taken from me. I spent years trying to find myself again. I sold everything; my car, my house, and anything I couldn't carry in my pack and traveled. First, it was just across the US, roughing it in whatever place I'd end up, then backpacking my way across Europe, trying to find some kind of revelation that could make sense of what happened, but I never found it. I was on my way to Australia when our plane crashed, and I thought it was a punishment. That after failing to protect my family and running away from it all, that this is what I deserve, to die on an island in the middle of nowhere with no one to grieve me."

He began to smile, but it was tight, like he was fighting to keep it down.

"But then I saw you, the spitting image of my baby all grown up. And then we found the cave, and the fresh water, and I realized this wasn't a punishment. This is my reward. After all the pain and the suffering, I finally have what I want. I can be whole again."

"What about all the other people? They don't deserve to be stuck here!"

He shrugged, his smile never wavering.

"Collateral, I suppose. They don't matter much."

"What about me? I had a family already and I loved them, and they loved me! I didn't deserve to be taken away from them."

"I know it seems like they loved you and that you were happy, but I promise, you weren't. It wasn't real. The island wouldn't have brought you here if it was. You're meant to be here, just as much as me. It might take a while, but you'll realize it eventually. You'll grow to love it more than you ever loved your old home."

You looked at him, his smile almost ghoulish in the waning light of the sunset. You tried to reconcile this man with the same man you saw the first day of the crash, his calm, comforting demeanor of him talking you through those horrible events of the first day, and it clashed with the deranged image before you. It made no sense. How long had he been like this? Was it the effects of the island, or was he always like this? Unable to make up your mind, you say the first thing that pops in your head

"You're fucking crazy."

His smile didn't waver. He merely nodded at your words.

"I had a feeling this was how it was going to go."

He clapped his hands on his legs as he pushed himself up and walked towards you.

"But it'll all turn out fine. There's plenty of time for you to come around."

With that, he kicked sand on your fire until it fizzled out. You tried to stop him, but it was gone in only a matter of seconds

The most disturbing thing about the island that you had never been able to adjust to wasn't the bugs or isolation, but the dark. Every night, after the sunset, you were practically blind, unable to make out anything in front of you. And on moonless nights like tonight? Complete and utter darkness. Unless you had a torch with you, it made navigating the island impossible

You yelled at him, asking him why he would extinguish the only light you had. How would you get back to the cave? He waved off your concerns like they didn't matter

Suddenly you felt a pair of arms lift you up, and your first instinct was to struggle against it, but you stopped yourself. Even now, you knew you couldn't make it back on your own. So you clung to him, letting Henry carry you back to the cave

As he walked, you noticed no hesitancy in his movements. No bumping into bushes or trees, no feet getting caught in roots or holes, absolutely nothing. And you knew that he was just as blind as you were out here. It was like he knew the island like the back of his hand

Jessica was at the cave entrance, tending to the fire like she had this morning. She gave you a wave and a small, apologetic smile, but you didn't return it

He took you to your bed and wished you a good night before he returned to his own

It took you hours to fall asleep, and when you finally did, it was troubled, full of half-remembered nightmares and fear. When you woke up, it was well past dawn, and Henry was already gone

You sat up and tried to reach for your crutches, only to realize they weren't anywhere near you. Panic and confusion flooded your mind until you remembered what happened last night. You didn't walk back here, Henry carried you, leaving your crutches behind. Distantly, you wondered if he did that on purpose

You sat there for a while, trying to wrap your mind around your mobility problem when a voice called out to you. It was Jessica, carrying your crutches

After she gave them to you, she started to explain that yesterday, Henry had expressed worry over your mental state, telling her that the fall you took might have been more serious than he previously thought, and that he's only catching on to it now. He had asked her to watch you and make sure you didn't leave the cave

She wasn't sure what to make of it. Though she didn't believe there was something wrong with you, she also didn't know you that well, and who was she to question Henry? And, according to her, she had always been a pushover, so she agreed

But then you were leaving, and she couldn't find it in herself to make any serious effort to stop you, so she followed you instead. Watching you navigate your way with your broken leg, and your determination in starting the fire, your reasoning for it all, it spoke to her. Maybe Henry and the rest of the survivors were resigned to stay, but she still wanted to go home, too

A spark of hope lit in your chest. For the first time since learning about Henry's betrayal, you didn't feel alone

Hesitantly, you told her that Henry had put out the fire when he brought you back. She seemed shocked, but not disbelieving, commenting that he seemed to enjoy living on the island a little too much for her comfort. If only she knew the full story

You considered telling her, but you didn't want to sound crazy and lose the only ally you had. So, you simply nodded, and together you formed a plan

The both of you would go down to the shore and pick a spot that Henry wouldn't suspect. Then at night, one of you would go down and start and maintain the fire throughout the night

Unfortunately, Henry had figured out what was happening rather quickly. One night, he followed you down to the beach, only revealing himself when you started the fire

You expected him to put it out and carry you back to the cave, but instead, he sat down next to you and apologized for kicking out your fire the other day. You didn't think he was sincere for a second, but you nodded at him anyway. He took that as a signal to start talking, ang he eventaully started telling stories, and not just any stories, but the corny kind you tell around a campfire while roasting hot dogs and marshmallows to try and scare each other. All overdone spooks and muffled laughs and good cheer. The non-serious attitude he had made you uneasy, but you didn't know what to do, other than let him continue

The next time you came down, he walked with you, and you saw that between your shifts, he had made two elevated cots made of bamboo, cordage, and palm leaves next to the firepit

He seemed proud of himself, going over to them and telling you how they were made, where he had learned how to make them, and other bits of information you didn't bother listening to, too caught up in your own thoughts to care

Seeing these cots finally made you realize why you disliked him telling you those campfire stories the night before: it meant that he didn't care about you trying to get rescued, because he genuinely didn't believe it was going to happen. That this was all useless, and that you would eventually fizzle out and stop trying to contact the outside world. That this would all amount to nothing more than memories of camping and bonding with the man who was convinced he was meant to be your father

Mechanically, you went about lighting the fire and carefully tending to it like you had every other night. Henry watched you work, a passive look on his face. He complimented how fast you put it together, and how much better you've gotten at it since you started. You couldn't hide your grimace

Two months had passed since you lit the first beach fire, and emotionally, you were worn out

It wasn't how humid and hot it was sleeping outside of the caves, or how much the night shifts threw off your circadian rhythm, or how isolating it was to spend most of your waking time maintaining the fire. (though all of these did suck) What really did you in was Henry's company

Despite everything that he had done, he still acted like the same Henry you knew. Patient, soft-spoken, slightly socially awkward, with a penchant for terrible dad jokes. And above all, he was caring. It didn't matter how much you bristled at him trying to care for a cut palm, or how often you brushed off his concerns over your worsening sleep, or rebuked what seemed like honest sympathy in your worst moments when you were all but convinced that help wouldn't arrive, he would still find ways to talk you into letting him help

And when he finally did... it felt nice. Of course, you also felt anger and a deep sense of shame, but none of those could drown out the relief of having someone take care of you. You had missed your parents so much, and even though you knew he wasn't a substitute for them, the attention and concern from him felt so similar. You often felt a pang of sadness when you thought about it. In another life, he would have been a good dad

Then, there were those nights when you were so worn down that you couldn't help but give in and talk to him. In those moments, it felt like nothing bad had happened between you two. Henry wasn't a sad, delusional man trying desperately to fill the hole in his heart, and you weren't a castaway kept prisoner by him

In your mind, you could imagine that you and your parents went on a camping trip with Uncle Henry, a close family friend. They were off gathering supplies from the car while you and Henry tended to the fire, him teaching you about wilderness survival and stories of his trips abroad to pass the time while waiting for them to come back

You wondered, when you finally got rescued, if that has to be a fantasy. Maybe when you got back, you could urge him to seek help, and perhaps, he could get better. Introduce him to your family, invite him over for Sunday dinners with your other aunts, uncles, and cousins. Let him know that he doesn't have to be alone or suffer in his delusions. That he can still have a family without having to keep it trapped, that you can be free and loved

By the end of the second month, you were on the edge, wondering how much longer you could continue doing this. Jessica was worn out as well, and you could see the conviction slowly leave her eyes, day after day. You wondered when she would finally come up to you and tell you that she was done

Tonight, you were alone, slowly feeding the flame dry sticks and grass, staring aimlessly into the horizon

You barely noticed it at first, it blending into the night sky like a wallflower. But then it got a little closer, a little brighter, and your eyes refocused, fixated on it. A light in the distant, black horizon creeping closer

Adrenaline pumped through your body, lighting your chest aflame as you raced into the edge of the jungle and started gathering more wood to pile on the signal fire. You ignored the bites from mosquitos and cuts and bumps from the trees and plants around you. Your pain didn't matter, not like the fire did

You began feeding the fire as much wood as it could take without smothering it, eyes rapidly moving back and forth from the light to the flame

As the light grew closer, and closer, your heart beat faster and faster, threatening to burst out of your chest. You were almost lightheaded with joy, unable to think straight. The moment you began to make out the faint outline of a ship heading your way, you started screaming and waving your hands like a lunatic, not caring if they were still too far away to hear you. You couldn't stop yourself

A few minutes later, rustling could be heard behind you, and then a burst of noise, cheers and screams tearing through the night. You turned to find that a few survivors had come out of the cave to see what you were yelling about, Henry included

The group was ecstatic, yelling and waving and crying in joy, but Henry stayed back, stock still, staring at the boat with the same subdued face of panic that a person seeing an oncoming tsunami would have. Full of despair and fear over what was to come, but knowing you were useless to prevent it from happening

It dampened your delirious excitement for a brief moment, and you walked up to him, touching his shoulder to get his attention. His eyes snapped down to yours, alarmed at the sudden touch. You gave him a small smile and tried to reassure him

"I know you didn't want this to happen, but this is a good thing, I promise."

There was no response, only wild, fearful eyes. You could only hope it brought him some kind of comfort

The rest of the group made it to the beach and began yelling and cheering as well, and you decided to join them, finding Jessica in the crowd. She all but jumped on you, hugging you close as she cried

Some way off the coast, the ship, a commercial fishing vessel, came to a stop and a smaller boat was lowered into the water, a lone man naviagting his way to shore

When he finally made it to land and the excitement was overwhelming. Everyone welcomed him with an enormous amount of joy before he could even speak a word. One survivor even ran up and flung themself on him, kissing him on the cheek, to the fisherman's amusement and shock

It took a few minutes for everyone to calm down long enough for the man to speak, informing the group that they could only bring over a few people at a time. To your surprise, Henry asked to be a part of the first group taken to the ship. After everything that he had done for them, no one in the group questioned it, easily allowing him the spot. You were also part of that first trip, considering you were injured. There was a medic on board, and they wanted to have a look at your leg. A few more people were placed on the small boat, and then it was back on the sea, heading towards the main ship

You gave a brief wave to Jessica as the before the boat sped off, and she waved back, eyes still watery. For the first time since you crashed, you thought you would be okay

As the ship grew closer, you spared a glance at Henry, who hadn't taken his eyes off it the entire way there. His face was fixed, eyes glazed, like he was lost in thought, completely immersed in his mind. You let him be. You knew how tough this was for him, and you were happy that he was finally accepting his this

Everyone was pulled on board, and the ship's crew became preoccupied with taking care of the survivors, with you being taken to see the ship's medic. You easily lost track of Henry in the confusion

You were taken to a room, and inside a middle-aged, graying man with a worn-down face and a warm smile greeted you. He looked over your leg and commented that it looked nearly fully healed, and that you must of been well taken care of. Wistfully, you agreed

He tells you that you're all set to leave, and points you in the direction of where all the other survivors were being kept

In the short walk between rooms, you let your mind drift, thinking about all the things you'll do when you finally make it home, and how wonderful it will be to finally have a real shower, sleep on a real bed, and finally not eat food with seasoning again. You were completely lost in your daydreams. Perhaps this is why you didn't hear anyone sneaking up behind you

One moment, you were walking down the hall, the next a hand clamped over your mouth, and another secured itself around your torso, dragging you into the nearest room

Cloth was stuffed in your mouth, and you were easily wrestled down to the floor, limbs pinned down as your attacker hogtied them together

You tried to fight, but it was useless, the figure easily outclassing you in height and weight. But you tried to anyway, survival instincts already kicked into overdrive

In your frantic struggles, you finally caught a glimpse of who your attacker was and stopped moving

It was Henry

He locked eyes with you, and for a moment, no one moved. He only stared, his face grim and regretful, mouth pressed into a thin line

Shock finally wore off, and you took this opportunity to headbutt him in his nose

He easily dodged your attack, and then finished binding your limbs. With practiced movements, he dragged you over to a closet and placed you inside, disturbingly gentle in the way he handled you

He gave you a look before muttering a quiet apology and closing the door

You immediately started squirming on the floor like a wild animal, screams trying so hard to leave your mouth, only for it to be muffled by your gag

No amount of pulling or wiggling could get you free of your restraints, the knots were too tight, the rope too strong

You resorted to kicking against the door, hoping beyond hope that someone would hear you and come to your rescue

Minutes passed, and though you slowed down, you didn't stop, despite how tired and heavy your legs grew. You couldn't stop. You were almost home. What was Henry doing?

Finally, the door opened, and for a moment, you were overtaken with joy, only to see that it was Henry again

You pushed yourself as far away from him as you could, but there was no point. You couldn't get away from him. He picked you up and carried you out of the room, rapidly making his way to the deck, towards the same tiny lifeboat you had been rescued with

He lowered you into the boat, and next to you were boxes of food and medical supplies that weren't there before, before getting on the boat himself and starting the boat's motor, making his way back to the island

The fight was burnt out of you now, body sore from the exertion and emotional rollercoaster of the past hour. You could only lie down and try and think of another way out

Quickly, you realized the futility of what Henry was doing. Okay, he had managed to get you and him back to the island, but so what? People were going to notice that you and Henry were missing. Couple that with the missing lifeboat, and it would become pretty clear what had happened. The fisherman may not be able to reach you without the boat, but they knew where you were. They would go back to the mainland, inform people of where you were, and rescue would come again. Henry had only bought himself time, but he still lost. You were going to get off this island. You were going to be okay-

A skull-shatteringly loud explosion and a blinding light came from behind the lifeboat, drowning out your thoughts. Shockwaves were sent from the explosion that caused waves, rocking the tiny lifeboat and pushing it even closer to the island

You tried to prop yourself up to see over the walls of the boat, to show yourself that what you thought happened didn't happen at all. But it was only after the boat came ashore and Henry pulled you out and gently placed you on the sand did you manage to finally get a look

Out in the horizon, in the dim twilight of the early morning, the sinking wreckage of the ship you had just been on only minutes before was up in flame. There was no movement other than the floating debris, no sound other than your muffled cries

You could only stare, watching the fire get smaller as it sunk into the sea

"You know I had to do it, right?"

You glance back to Henry, and saw the worried look on his face. Desperate, almost pleading. It aged him more than a million days on this island ever could.

"I didn't have a choice. They were taking us away. I couldn't let that happen."

He kept staring at you like he was looking for something. Forgiveness? Reassurance? Even if you did want to offer those to him, you couldn't. Your mouth was gagged, and your hands were tied. All you could do was watch him fall apart

"I couldn't go back. There's nothing out there waiting for me but pain and loneliness. Do you know what's it's like to be so alone? To not have a purpose? It would of killed me. I can't-"

He placed his face in his hands, took a deep, shaky breath, and released it. He gripped the side of his face as he slowly fell to his knees on the sand, eyes wide and far away as you continued to cry into your gag and stare

"I had to. I didn't have a choice. They would of taken you away. I had to, I had to, I had to..."