#really messy as always i hate rendering but i love colors.

[carrotkicks]

go back to your own body my guy

[handhourgalleries]

Having an open discussion about my art lead me to being told that though ___ loves my art, said art will never get a very strong public following because my art doesn't follow popular conventions of style (clean lines, bright colors, smooth rendering, etc.)

I think after a time of struggling with the idea of making my art more consumable, I've settled with the idea that I am most satisfied personally with my art when I lean into its "faults". The "prettier" I try to take it, the more it feels I am morphing my art style into something that no longer defines me. I hate that feeling.

I definitely want to progress my art and learn to implement different techniques - even after 30+ years of being a committed artist I am still a student, always learning. I never want to lose the soul of my art - even if that integrity is messy, unpolished, or even too dark in other eyes.

Sometimes I believe it, that I will never really have a strong following, though I do make an effort to connect across different social media. I have to settle that my art is not for everyone.

Those few that have expressed a liking for my sometimes mess of creation, it means so much to hear it. Know that I do this for you, and for me. :)

[jjungkooksthighs]

Yearn for You | jjk (m)

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

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

◊  Rating: 18+ / nsfw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook,” you whimper, “touch me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook, I-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          Jimin:

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

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

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

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

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

          Jungkook:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[chacha-tortuga]

How do you paint so flawlessly digitally (at least I hope it's digital, and I'm not making a fool of myself here...)? I like to draw and I like how my art looks with lineart, but I always end up hating what I make when I go painterly in my digital art, even tho I go with a painterly style in traditional? What's your secret?

of course, feel free to give me a short/non-answer. This all sums up to say that I think your art kicks ass and it's always a joy to see, even tho idk what Metro 2033 is 😌

Hello!!

First of all, thank you so much for your kind words, it really makes me happy to read messages like this :·))

Then, sorry for the delay of the answer, I figured it would be more efficient to actually draw a little tutorial on how I paint digitally, because for me visual representation is key for learning art (I see and I reproduce to build my skills).

So, here we go for a little explanation! (I use Photoshop but it can be applied to most art softwares of course!)

First of all, I’d like to point out that I stopped doing clean lineart to paint, because it restricted the workflow more than anything, so a basic sketch is more than sufficient!

To add the color base, I usually start with a dark and desaturated (but it can be any color really) background layer.

Then between the sketch and the background layer, I lay the colors I want, in a semi-flat, semi-gradient way : I use a brush that has pressure opacity (mine has a little texture and grain but a basic round one works just as well) so all the colors mix well with the background color. Never hesitate to use the color picker tool to get harmonious colors overall!

I finalise this step by tweaking the shadows, some color details I want...

Then starts the rendering process : I create a new layer on top of everything and then I use mostly that pressure opacity brush coupled with the color picker tool. The key is to keep the shapes and volumes of your drawing while very slowly (but not entirely) getting rid of the messy lineart.

What I love to do is draw on top of the lineart with a slightly lighter shade of it that I get by painting a bit transparently over it (you can see it on the bridge of the nose, the underside of the jaw, the strong shadow under the chin...). I always try to keep similar colors if I bring new ones on the drawing (redder nose or cheeks are just a tad more dark and sturated already existant reddish tone).

When I feel like I’m happy with the level of rendering, I add then the details : little lines for the hair, skin texture (scars, spots, facial hair...), eye color, and then like the interior of the ears and stuff, cloth texture... whatever!

And then it’s the magical process of tweaking with the adjustments!! I usually go kinda heavy with them because photoshop has really nice ones, but I’ll show you the ones I use all the time.

Brightness/Contrast : lowering the brightness and boosting the contrast de-flattens your picture

Vibrance and Saturation : makes those greyish colors more alive

Levels : I use them instead of the color balance but both are good for adjusting the colors!

And then I like to add a creamy background on another layer on top of it all to delimit where the subject stands. But if a whole background is already part of the illustration skip this step haha!

And there you go, now you know all my secrets for paintings!! Hope it was useful to you and to everyone who reads this :·)) 

Thank you again for the ask <3

(ps : Metro 2033 is a franchise based on a really good book (the one i base my art on) that i recommend you to read :•))

[shintorikhazumi]

A Warm Diana Chapter 5: A Higher Degree

A Warm Diana Chapter 5: A Higher Degree                  

A/N: at end of chapter. Hello.  Enjoy? ~Shintori Khazumi

~0~0~0~

Where do we go from here? Is there any other way other than forward? What is this dance we’re doing, a step forward, yet two steps back. How do we progress in this heated tango?

What are we waiting for? Where do we go from here?

~0~0~0~

Diana wouldn’t say she was a prodigious dancer, but she’s been to enough social events to not be terrible at it. Akko would obviously beg to differ because, in her eyes (and everyone else’s, she supposes), Diana was amazing at anything she laid her hands on, anything she picked up.

So, it was on this fine day, at this very moment, as she was seated on the wooden floor, in a little corner of the room with her back against the wall, that Akko would stare in wonder and amazement at her friend…friend? -Were they still at this stage? Most possibly with how Akko had been dancing (the only kind of dancing she seemed to be good at, as of the moment) around the issue of whatever relationship they both had. Though, she knew something had changed between them. There was this freshness in their relationship dynamic that had changed it in its entirety. That, she could not deny, nor did she want to. At the same time, however, there was equal amounts of intimidation mixed into this hot-mess recipe of a relationship.

They had yet to actually talk about whatever it was that would happen from that point of their relationship after the date. Diana said she would wait, and Akko was far from knowing what answer was the right one to give. She knew she loved Diana, but she had doubts, not of her partner-to-be, but doubts in herself. This had made their interactions awkward and full of tension- the good or bad kind, Akko didn’t know.

And so, days passed uneventfully as they were, again, (quite frustratingly in their friends’ books apparently) at a standstill.

Anyway, Akko stared at her “friend” as she was made an example before the class as to how to properly do the waltz as they would be having another formal with the boys from Andrew’s school as it was nearing the end of the school year.

Andrew.

Akko visibly winced. Thoughts of the boy were seldom pleasant these days. What had been a beautiful friendship between them, she no longer knew what remained. Would Andrew even look at her, much less talk or interact with her outside of the required pleasantries?

She had always enjoyed the company of the male, despite their differences. He had a completely different view of the world from her, from witches. In a sense, it was refreshing. She also enjoyed it when he’d send her little videos of him playing tunes on his piano, be it an extravagant piece or a personal composition. She admired him as she admired any of her friends. And like all her friendships, she’d like to keep this one, cherished in her heart for as long as possible.

Still.

It hurt.

His words had hurt her, cut deep into her soul. While his confession came as an enormous shocker, she felt slightly flattered that a man of high pedigree such as Andrew would see her country bumpkin self as someone worth having feelings for. However, it could never dismiss that chat on the bench that continued to scratch at her heart each time she remembered the words,

[You can’t.]

Her eyes stung, her heart lurched; she shook her head, ridding her mind, temporarily, of the memory. She didn’t want to grow to hate the man. She just… She just couldn’t face him right now. That’s all.

Vision focusing, she was surprised to see her eyes meet Diana’s from across the room where she sat. Apparently, the heiress had completed her demonstration and was in the middle of taking long sips from her water bottle. Her figure stood in front of the large windows of the classroom often used for dance, meditation, sparring, and other practical applications of magic. Light gleamed through them, courtesy of the afternoon sun, rendering a glow to outline her form.

A droplet of water slipped down her slender neck, almost disappearing at the base of her throat. Akko found herself bewitched, her sight having unknowingly trailed after the transparent liquid, gaze travelling from there, back up to a shapely jawline, to pinkish lips that seemed to be tipping upwards slightly.

Suddenly, Akko felt the need to see Diana’s eyes, and she felt her breath stall in her lungs. There was a different shade to her gaze. Somehow it seemed playful, pleased; shimmering with some form of mirth at having caught Akko shamelessly gawking, but at the same time there was this… heat that Akko couldn’t name. It felt like it could burn her very soul if she remained looking.

Was it just her, or was it actually getting hotter in here?

She immediately broke the staring contest, opting to poke at a small dirt spot beside her on a wooden panel. Here, she had been sitting quietly in the corner, dreading over one of her friendships that might soon cease to exist, but over there was another friendship that she… didn’t quite know… um… what…

Akko scratched at her head with both hands, feeling a headache build with great speed. Everything was just so… confusing and frightening, worrying, sudden, hot, cold…warm-

Warm. A warm hand had taken one of hers that had been pulling at- and roughing up her hair. Another proceeded to pat the top of her head so gently, Akko could have sworn it wasn’t really there. It smoothed out her messy hair strands before she felt a ghost of a kiss planted there. A bolt of electricity ran through her spine as she jolted slightly, forcing a blush away.

“Is it that frustrating to be told to sit out of this practice?” Akko could hear small bells tinkling, a soft melody playing, interlaced with a voice she had to admit she loved so much, as much as the person who owned it.

“Maybe.” She shrugged, still looking downwards. “Though it wouldn’t be the first time I was called out and filtered out from the rest of the class for sucking at something… or well everything.” That last part she whispered to herself.

Oh, but Diana was an attentive girl. Especially towards people she cared for deeply. She heard every word, and with a sigh, she knelt in front of Akko’s hunched form. “Akko…”

“Do-don’t worry about it! It’s not like I’m not used to it! I mean, I know I’ve improved quite a bit in terms of school and stuff… and other stuff, but really. Diana, you don’t have to worry-“

“Akko.”

Said girl flinched. Her gaze still on that little smudge on the flooring.

“Please… look at me…” The voice was so fragile, so soft. It pleaded for her to give her attention to blue eyes and a sad smile. Who would be cruel enough to destroy such a beautiful smile any further?

So, she looked up.

“Hi.” It was spoken in such a gentle whisper. Akko was mesmerized once more. Her eyes could not be torn away from such beautiful diamonds. She swore every precious stone could never amount to much if compared to the sparkling gems Diana had.

“Hi…” She replied in a quieter, more broken voice. “I-“ Her voice cracked, and she shut her mouth, opting to simply search Diana’s warm gaze once more.

“Class has been over for a while. This is also the last class of the day- in case you’ve forgotten.” Diana offered a kind smile. “You’ve been sitting here, unmoving. I suppose I got worried since everyone has already cleared the room.”

True to her word, Akko found that they were the only two people left inside. Even her teammates were nowhere in sight.

As if Diana had read her mind, she spoke, “If you are looking for Lotte and Sucy, they told me they needed to leave first as Sucy had been summoned by one of the professors from a higher year because she made another potion they could not quite decipher, and used it on one of the older students.”

Akko shook her head in amusement because of course Sucy would do something like that. Leave it to her to spice up any day. Both… figuratively and literally. Akko shuddered at the memory of being fed some concoction Sucy brewed up in their quest to create the quote-unquote, best hot sauce in the world.

Another realization came to mind that had her smiling. ‘”Lotte” and “Sucy”, huh… Everyone sure has gotten close.” The fact that Diana could now call her best friends by their given name brought about an inexplicable joy to Akko. It somehow made the weight in her heart lighter, her headache disappearing as she faced this gorgeous, amazing being in front of her.

“Thank you.”

Akko didn’t know what kind of face she had been making, but it must have been something special, seeing as Diana had suddenly flushed an adorable light red, seemingly losing composure for a few moments before coughing, and offering a confident smile to Akko.

“You are always welcome. Always.” Diana didn’t know what Akko was thanking her for, but she supposed this wasn’t that moment to question it. So, she responded, trying to hide how flustered she had been as Akko gave her the gentlest expression, the warmest- dare she say loving- expression she’s ever been on the receiving end of. The only other person she could remember to have looked at her that way was her mother. And still, it was something completely different.

There was this need that arose in her heart. It had always been there, but in this particular moment, with the golden rays of the sun hitting both girls in just the right way, Diana’s pulse quickened drastically as her mind felt like it had been wiped clear of any rationality. She subconsciously leaned forward, closer to Akko whose eyes went wide, mouth slightly agape, cheeks splashed a rosy color. There was an impulsive desire taking over Diana’s actions. Akko’s scent- the source was drawing ever nearer; it made her dizzy. Her hand, previously atop Akko’s head, now rested on her burning cheek, the other had fingers interlocked with Akko’s, squeezing it close to her heart. Her lips parted, she took a quick intake of air before she found her voice to say, “Akko, I lo-“

“Anyone still here?” Diana froze. Akko was already frozen long before.

At a speed faster than her broom could take her, Diana had detached herself from Akko, standing shakily a good four feet away now.

“Y-yes, Diana Cavendish is s-still here.” She spoke with all the confidence of a peanut on a pizza. And she didn’t think there were any peanuts on pizzas.

“Oh, miss Cavendish.” One of the janitors tipped his hat at her, standing by the door. “Miss Akko, too!” He gave a friendly smile and wave to the academy staff’s favorite witch. “I’m sorry if you were practicing or anything. I’ve been instructed to clean and lock up this room, so I have to shoo you away, regrettably.” He informed them kindly.

“It’s no trouble.” Diana released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “We were just about to head out, weren’t we Akko?” Said brunette nodded a bit too enthusiastically, not trusting her voice enough to speak. Brushing dust from her lap, she attempted to get up, only to fall back onto her bottom as Diana worriedly returned to her side in record time.

“Are you okay, Miss Akko?” The janitor asked, having entered the room now, mop in tow.

“Perfectly okay! Just a little weak in the shins, as they say.”

“Knees. It’s knees, Akko.”

“Right. Those.” She breathed. A pause. “What are those?” She chuckled nervously, head spinning. Diana’s sudden proximity did no favors for her erratic heartbeat as she felt a hand grasp her waist, supporting her onto her feet.

“Are you sure you two will be fine? Need me to call for help?” The worker offered, concerned gaze switching from one girl to the other.

“No, no need.” Diana smiled, arm not leaving its position around the small of Akko’s back. “I’ll make sure Akko returns to her room safely.”

“Okay then, I guess. I’ll be starting now, just head on out the back door.” He pointed to the other entry- and exit- way of the room, beginning his mopping.

“Thank you for all your hard work.” Diana gave a small nod of appreciation, Akko muttering her thanks as they were given a wave in return.

Gathering some of their belongings- towels and Diana’s bottle of water- they slowly walked to their classroom to grab their bags and head back to the dorms. All the while, Diana’s arm remained securely wrapped around Akko’s waist.

They both knew it was there. Diana could stand to ignore the fluttering of her heart, but it seemed as though Akko could not.

“Umm, Diana… If you could- I think I can walk by myself alright now.” Akko mumbled with her head hung low.

Diana retracted her hand hesitantly, feeling as though Akko would fall if she let go.

“Thanks.” Akko continued walking, not too fast to leave Diana behind, but not slow enough to fall into pace with her that they’d have to walk side-by-side. Akko found it easier to breathe if she walked just a bit ahead.

“Yes, of course, I-… my apologies for… if that made you uncomfortable.” Diana had promised she would wait for a proper answer, and Akko seemed so relieved, going home from their date. Diana thought it would be fairly smooth- with a few hiccups along the way- sailing for them and their “relationship”. However, morning came and days passed, and it could not get any more awkward as Akko would have moments of simply staring at Diana for extended periods of time, whether it be in class, during meals, as she patrolled the hallways; and this would be contrasted by moments like this. Moments where Akko couldn’t even look her way.

She felt her heart ache as she stared at Akko’s back. It seemed much smaller than it usually was. This period of Akko’s life made apparent that she was just as fearful and doubtful as any other. The believing heart that was her magic could also be stunted in the face of trials. And while those trials might not have to be saving the world and fighting large dragons, love and society were definitely scary things to think about as they grew into adults.

---------------

It was a silent walk the rest of the way to the dorm, and upon reaching Akko’s room, the pair halted.

There was only the soft rustle of the wind outside, a noise from down the hall.

All was completely still.

“Diana-“ “Akko-“

“Oh- you go first-“ “Go ahead-“

“I insist!” “No, no, you…”

“…”

“…”

“Pfft-“

The pair burst into soft laughter, tension easing from their shoulders. Diana felt happy tears slip from her eyes as they were tightly shut, her heart feeling lighter all of a sudden. Minutes could have passed by, neither girl was aware of how long they’d been laughing. Diana’s cheeks were starting to hurt. Akko’s giggles tickled her ears, and she just adored the way it sounded. Though light, a small pang of longing returned to her chest, along with a stir of frustration brought about by not knowing just what was going on.

Diana’s laughs subsided, ending neatly in a sigh, eyes looking to the tips of her shoes. It was not a view she often saw. She usually had her head held high in pride and confidence. Here, she was just as insecure as anyone delving into a territory so unfamiliar.

“Diana.” That voice called her, soft and anxious. “Thank you for walking me back.”

“Anytime.” The top student responded, lifting her head up to give Akko one final smile before she’d have to march off to her room without looking back as she always did to curb the restlessness of her very soul and prepare it for another day of tiptoeing ‘round eggshells and each other.

The sight she was met with today, however, caught her off guard. Though it had been so tense and awkward, stuffy that it made it hard to breathe so few moments ago, right now, Akko was anything but those things. She was smiling gently, as if any of the things that had been plaguing her the past few days, and maybe weeks hadn’t existed in the first place. She was smiling at Diana. Her eyes were so warm, gaze tender, her smile small but… just- Diana couldn’t explain, but it made butterflies run rampant in her stomach.

Calloused hands tentatively reached forward. Diana couldn’t seem to move. Akko cupped her face with a gentleness some would think was alien to the girl, what with her usual rambunctious nature. Diana found it all too fitting, though, because of how she knew Akko.

She searched Akko’s face, trying to find hints of worry, hesitance, fear. She herself felt those things, wondering if this was but another one of her day dreams as she waited for the reply that could completely take their relationship down new paths. She only found calmness and peace, and a bit of joy.

Somehow her eyes stung, and she felt a rush of heat throughout her entire body. Was this relief? At what? Diana could feel the corners of her mouth lift, though her lips shook. Perhaps she had let an emotion slip as she felt Akko brush the wetness away from her cheek.

What was going on right now? Diana wanted to know. She had grown accustomed to a daily push-and-pull of edginess and trepidation with every action they performed around one another. She was getting used to the somewhat cold goodbyes in front of Akko’s dorm room. She was familiarizing the hours she got up in the middle of the night to think about Akko and how to talk to her come the new morning.

So what was this warmth right now? Why-

“Why are you smiling?” Was that a weird question to let loose? Diana slipped up, she rarely did, but she wasn’t quite thinking clearly.

“Should I not be?” Akko chuckled.

“No, I love your smile. You look beautiful.” Diana responded in a heartbeat. She reveled in the way the red blossomed across Akko’s visage, and she found herself grinning in elation.

“You- I… you’re… more. Well, you’re- Diana!” Akko exclaimed with a pinch to the heiress’ cheeks.

Diana felt laughter bubbling in her chest once more, a tear slipping past only to be caught by Akko’s thumb again.

“And why are you crying!”

“Am I?”

“Well, I would think so.” Akko mumbled, massaging the area just below Diana’s eyes gently. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into you?” She quipped back. “Suddenly you… you… it’s like you’ve suddenly become comfortable around me.”

“I’m always comfy around you, what are you talking about?” Akko replied, though she was not looking at Diana as she did so.

“Akko, admit it. These past few days, our interactions could not get any less stressful- Ah yes, if I’m crying this is quite possibly stress-relief.” Diana chuckled, her words clearing up some things in her head, at least.

Those same words had a different effect on Akko, as she frowned.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized in a small voice. “That’s probably my fault. I’m sorry.” The guilt in Akko’s voice leaked out.

Diana felt the hands on her face loosen their hold, but she grasped them, holding them in place before they could let go. “No.”

“N-no?” Akko faced a serious Diana, wondering if her apology would not be accepted and this was as far as Diana was willing to give in to her selfishness.

“Oh, no. No, I mean- It’s not your fault. Or maybe it is, I suppose? Not exactly, not quite. Do you… do you understand what I’m trying to convey?” Diana said all in one breath.

Akko blinked, she felt like laughing all over again. They were both acting out of character. Akko didn’t know she could be so anxious, and another thing she didn’t know was that Diana could look so adorable with her cheeks squished between Akko’s hands, eyes wide and attentive towards Akko. It was so cute that Akko felt her chest squeeze.

“No, Diana. I don’t think I do. I don’t understand a thing, and I don’t think you do either.” Akko freed her hands from Diana’s, turning her back to the girl as she threw her arms into the air, yelling, “Hahaha, this is such a mess!”

She ran to a corridor window, looking at the empty yard below. Unlatching one side, she opened it just enough to shove her head out and scream another round of,

“This is such a mess! I’m such a mess!”

Whoever would hear the sudden noise during this quiet afternoon might get surprised, but not as surprised as Akko who felt a presence by her side, as the other side of the window opened, and an excited Diana hollered, “I’M ALSO A MESS! SUCH A HUGE MESS!”

Akko heard the clock tick once, before a grin painted itself across her face. “YOU’RE A FANTASTIC MESS!”

Diana’s eyebrows could almost touch her hairline, Akko swore, with how high they were raised right now. Then something flashed in those crystal blue orbs. A look of determination? Of challenge?

“WELL, THEN YOU’RE A BEAUTIFUL MESS!”

Oh. So that’s how they were going to play.

“YOU’RE A SPECTACULAR MESS!”

“YOU’RE AN INSPIRING MESS!”

“BUT YOU’RE THE INSPIRING MESS!”

“YOU’RE THE UPLIFITING MESS THEN!”

A deep breath. “THEN YOU’RE THE MOST GORGEOUS MESS I’VE EVER MET IN MY LIFE. SO GORGEOUS YOU’RE NOT EVEN A MESS ANYMORE? WAIT CAN A MESS BE GORGEOUS? AREN’T YOU A GODDESS INSTEAD?! YOU’RE HOT TOO SO WOULD THAT BE COUNTED AS A HOT MESS?”

“Akko- gh..pfft- you’re still screaming.” Diana laughed, wondering if the questions Akko had flung at the wind were things she was supposed to be asking our that loud.

“Well…” The girl seemed to have calmed, lowering herself from the window she had half-climbed out of, torso hanging dangerously above the ground with her legs keeping her locked in. “Maybe we got a little too excited.” She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

“Perhaps we have.” Diana reached a hand out for Akko to take-

“WHO IS YELLING IN MY DORMITORY?!”

Oops.

“Akko, do you fancy a little exercise?”

“Oh my god, Diana, are you proposing we run in the hallways right now? Inside school?”

“Time to think fast, love, time is of the essence if you don’t want to get caught.”

The pet name made Akko blush, but she could deal with that later as she grasped Diana’s hand, pulling her along as she began her take-off.

“Keep up with me if you can.”

“I think I’ve done that long enough to be fairly acquainted with anything you pull, and I can probably do better.”

“Is that a challenge, Miss Cavendish?”

“Depends on how you see it, Miss Kagari.”

As they ran as fast as their legs could take them, away from Akko’s room, searching for a way to lose those footsteps behind them, Diana’s lungs burned with the need for oxygen. But it felt good, somehow. So good.

Staring at the back of the person pulling her forward, fingers interlaced, she couldn’t help but smile. It felt like something else was moving forward. Their relationship, whatever it was- though still just as confusing-, was moving forward. Diana could feel it. It was getting better, and she prayed it would stay that way.

As her body temperature climbed a few degrees higher from the exertion, she couldn’t help but think that this love burned hotter too.

And as Akko chanced a glance back at her, a goofy smile splayed across her lips as she silently mouthed a, “Thank you, Diana.”, though she might not know what was going to happen from that point on, the top student couldn’t help but believe that their relationship was now also at a higher degree.

 A/N: It’s been… three years? I don’t even know what to say, honestly. Other than I’ve decided to commit to just finishing this story now. I don’t if I’ll write new ones, but I don’t wanna leave my half-assed work like this. The past two years have been… the best and worst learning experience for me. And now that I’m in college, I feel so unmotivated with everything. I’m wondering if picking up writing again will open up a passion I lost. Haha. Cheers! I’ve missed it a lot. Sorry for the bad chapter, I don’t know how to write anymore. Yes, their relationship is still kept vague, but please bear with me. 

I wonder if my old readers are still here with me.

~Shintori Khazumi

[multisfabulis]

Land’s Trust in Light

Arrival in Thornewind (Chapter 1/6)

Word Count: 4090

Oh, look, a new Corona's Shadow entry that doesn't feature Verreth? That's possible?!

I kid but it honestly feels good to not be writing Verreth for CS for a little bit. CS was never meant to be a Verreth love story, it only ended up like that because I went straight into writing "The Road to Forgiveness Be Damned" after finishing "A Single Ray of Light in a Sea of Darkness" because I simply wanted to write more Ven and I started to regret my decision around the time I wrote the rough version of the third chapter. Obviously, I stuck with that decision to the end but it was throughout that time I had wants to write Verreth and I wrote those as well. However, all the Verreth segments are what I consider to be side stories, which I know may be hard to believe but trust me, because Ven and Ferreth are not the main protagonists of CS. Eric, if anyone remembers him, is. The Verreth segments were only added to the CS series because I didn't want to make a whole new series entirely focused on Verreth and take them out of something they are main characters of.

Does this mean I'm done writing Verreth? For now, yes. Outside of occasional updates to "Only Through Acceptance Will Love Find Us", I wanna focus on both this and other smaller projects, like RLD and fanfics. Just in case anyone's lost hope, the next big project is Verreth-related, with Ferreth taking the protag role a la TRFBD. Let's just say we're finally getting a look at his backstory and a reason as to why he has self-worth issues.

God, it feels great to be writing in Eric's POV again. It's been over 2 years since I finished ASRLSD so I am making the most of this!

Surprisingly enough, there wasn't much change during the transition from rough draft to publication, which actually made this harder to write. I'm so used to there being at least one major change that I got tripped up by this. The only major change here is the addition of descriptors and needed elaboration and those, I feel like, are key to "beautifying" writing so I don't count those.

One last thing is the "flirting" present in here. I honestly don't know if that can be considered flirting because I'm not someone who flirts or is flirted with on a daily basis. I'm pretty much the dense harem anime protagonist so please forgive me for the terrible flirting.

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

     Thornewind was gorgeous. Sure, Eric was looking at it from a distance atop Asha, but it made one hell of a good first impression. Thornewind seemed colorful and vibrant and he wanted to explore every last inch of it. He gently kicked Asha’s side and she began walking at a slow, leisurely pace.

     Thornewind was a town nestled in the mountains north of Aurora Zenith. The tiny glimpse he saw of it left him awestruck, from its tall, rich buildings packed closely together to its bright windmills scattered across its many open fields. Then there was the sight that awaited him over the ridge, stealing his breath away.

     There were tulips that stretched as far as the eye could see. A sea of blue, red, orange, pink, and yellow blossoms swayed in the summery breeze. It was strange how all these tulips were in bloom when Augvesta had just rolled around but he didn’t put much thought into it. Botany was more of Ven’s expertise and she would be positively thrilled upon seeing this.

     It was soon after crossing the garden he arrived at the entrance. It surprised him to see how lax security was if they let a complete stranger in without so much as a request for papers. He didn’t mind it, though; it just struck him as odd since no one was allowed entry if they weren’t deemed trustworthy back in his childhood home. He and Asha passed through the threshold and was rendered speechless.

     Towering brick buildings loomed over him while a rainbow of others stood further ahead of him. Paths of smooth stone ran in every direction, the opposite of Aurora Zenith’s dirt roads that swept up dust with enough energy behind it. He could hear the tinkling of wind chimes and the fervor of voices all around him. Thornewind certainly had Brinegarde beat in its lively atmosphere.

     He hopped off Asha, making sure to keep the reins in a firm grip. Her deep brown eyes met his as he slowly put a hand on her face and stroked. She didn’t flinch, which was a good sign of progress.

     “You’re such a good girl, Asha,” he murmured, moving his hand down to stroke her neck. “Let’s find a place for you to rest, hmm?”

     It didn’t take long to find a stable. He led her into one of the empty stalls and fed her a couple sugar cubes as a reward for all the hard work she’d done over the past two weeks. The last thing he did was tell the stableman how to care for her during her stay and that he’d be checking up on her daily. Waving goodbye to Asha, it was time to explore Thornewind.

     With it being mid-afternoon, it was pleasantly warm as people crowded the streets on their day-to-day routine. The sound of the wind chimes grew louder and the scent of delicious meals made his mouth water in anticipation. Thank god his anxiety wasn’t ruining this for him. He could hardly contain the bounce in his step as he excitedly toured around the busy thoroughfares. It was rare for him to see and visit new places so he wanted to make the most of this trip.

     There were two things he noticed. First was that most of the people he saw weren’t humans nor were they elves. Their ears were similar to Ven’s and they had what seemed to be like fangs sticking out from their upper lips. What really threw him off, though, were their sizes. Many of them were easily a foot or so taller than him just from a distance and were definitely well-built. Whatever these people were, they’ve caught his eye and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enticed.

     Then there were the stares. He initially thought they were wondering what a human was doing here till he realized it was what he wore. It wasn’t like he was wearing an extravagant suit but he still clearly looked like a noble, or so he assumed. He wasn’t trying to show people up. He was just taught to always dress his best for important events and he considered his reason for being here to be one such.

     Now came the realization he was lost. He had become so engrossed in his surroundings, an hour flew by without him noticing. He needed to find the lord of this town and talk with them about the relationship between them and Aurora Zenith. Allies were essential in political affairs, after all. The bad part was, he had no idea on where to start looking.

     Well, as much as he hated to, he had to ask someone for directions. It couldn’t be that hard, right? All he’d have to do is go up to a random person, ask them on how to get to the lord’s house, and that’d be it. Simple and easy!

     He felt a hand touch his shoulder and heard a voice ask, “Hey, are you okay?”

     He let out a startled shriek and turned to face the stranger. There was a man in front of him with his hands up in a conciliatory manner towards him. One of the first things he noticed was just how big he was.

     He’d never seen anyone taller than Alek before and it honestly unnerved him. The man had the same pointed ears and fangs as everyone else so he must’ve been one of the not-human, not-elf people. He had dark brown skin, messy brown hair with a small braid that reached his shoulders, and bright green eyes. What was really peculiar about him were the bandages starting from the middle of his arms and ending all the way down to his fingertips. He was definitely hiding something underneath those but Eric could care less about what right now.

     “Hey, hey, hey, calm down, okay?” the man said in a soothing tone. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

     “I would hope not!” Eric breathed in, placed a hand on his chest, and breathed out. “It’s not every day some random stranger walks up, claps a hand on my shoulder, and asks if I’m okay right in my ear.”

     “Well, you seemed troubled so I thought you might’ve needed help,” the man replied, putting his hands down.

     Feeling rather embarrassed with himself for that pathetic display, he cleared his throat and asked, “As a matter of fact, I do. Could you please tell me where the lord of this town is, I need to speak with them right away.”

     “You wanna talk to Bris?”

     “If that’s their name, then yes. I have some important business to discuss with them.”

     “He’s not far from here, I can take you to him if you want.”

     That would probably be the best course of action. He was never good at memorizing directions and reciting them to himself only confused him more. He had no one to blame but himself for being in this situation to begin with so…

     “Sure, that’d be great,” Eric conceded. At least this guy was kind and generous enough to show him the way there.

     “All right, let’s make our way over there.” The two men began walking down a street that wasn’t as busy as before. “By the way, my name’s Ferreth.”

     “I’m Eric, it’s nice to meet you,” he said, flashing him a friendly smile.

     “So what brings someone like you to our fair town of Thornewind?” Ferreth asked. “I thought I’d recognized all our visitors since those don’t come by very often.”

     “It’s as I said. I’ve traveled a long way to see Bris in the hopes of discussing important business with him.”

     “What kind of business? Are you an important person?”

     “I’d say being lord counts as pretty important. I’ve come all the way from Aurora Zenith to see if our two towns could potentially become allies.”

     “Oh, wow. I, uh, didn’t think someone as cute as you could be lord.”

     He tilted his head in both curiosity and confusion. “I don’t see what my appearance has to do with anything but I can assure you I wasn’t lying.”

     “I didn’t think you were. I just wasn’t expecting a man in your position to be so…good-looking.”

     “So what were you expecting?”

     “You know, somebody the complete opposite. I mean, I’m figuring you’re, like, smart, charismatic, kind, and everything else Bris is like.”

     Ah, that’s what was happening here. He had an inkling of it the first time Ferreth mentioned his appearance but now he was sure. Alek had never done it with him and there wasn’t really a need for him to. As flattered as he was by it, his heart was and always will be Alek’s.

     Chuckling, he said, “Well, I think my boyfriend would agree with you on some of those things but I’m more modest about them.”

     “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Ferreth had a defeated smile on his face, gracefully accepting his loss. Eric liked how easygoing he was.

     “So what’s your relationship with Bris like?” he asked.

     “Oh, me and him are best friends. We’ve known each other since childhood but I’d say we’re more like brothers than friends by this point.”

     “Sounds like you get along with him really well.”

     “Don’t get me wrong, Bris and I have had our fair share of arguments but what friendship hasn’t? We have each others’ backs and no fight’s ever gonna change that.”

     Ferreth had a certain fondness in his voice when he spoke about Bris. It was easy to see the love and devotion he held for Bris and it warmed Eric’s heart. He was admittedly envious of their friendship. He never had any friends as a child aside from Alek and, while Alek’s irreplaceable, he wished he was able to make some back then. At least that seemed to be changing with him befriending Ven during his trip to Brinegarde so maybe he still had a chance to form everlasting relationships.

     “Here we are!”

     The two stopped before a giant windmill. Dark red brick made up the exterior and the blades turned gently in the breeze, creaking ever so slightly. There were hardly any windows aside from the two in front and there was a wraparound balcony set up just below the wooden roof. Eric didn’t know windmills could be habitable, which made him want to live here if only a little.

     “Wow…”

     “Let’s go on up, shall we?”

     They climbed up the stone steps leading to the front door. It was a tall, dark wooden door stretching up towards the wraparound balcony, with a black, wrought iron ring on the side as its knocker. Before he could think of a script in his head, Ferreth grabbed the ring and hit it against the door a few times.

     Almost immediately after, a woman answered. She wasn’t much taller than him, though he figured the top of his head would be just scraping her chin, and the slim blue dress she wore did little to hide her defined muscles. She had porcelain skin, long, wavy rose pink hair flowing down to her waist, and sandy brown eyes, reminding him of the shores of Aurora Zenith’s beaches. She was stunningly beautiful and his throat felt suddenly dry.

     “Ah, Ferreth, are you here to see Master Brirsyrun today?” she asked. Her voice sounded soft and airy like a lovely breeze.

     “Hey, Aissyl, I’m actually here because my new friend wanted to speak with Bris regarding some important matters, right?” Ferreth put a hand squarely on Eric’s back and pushed him forward slightly.

     “Oh, uh, yes!” he spoke quickly. “My name is Eric Travere and I’m the lord of Aurora Zenith. I’m here today because I needed to talk to Brirsyrun about improving the relationship between our two towns.”

     “I see. I shall ask Master Brirsyrun if he’ll see you now, please wait a moment.” She closed the door.

     That could have gone a little better, he thought as he released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. He heard Ferreth trying to stifle a laugh from beside him and promptly wanted to die. Guess he wasn’t the only one she had that effect on, if this has happened before.

     “She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Ferreth asked, pretending like he didn’t know the answer.

     “Yes, well, I can’t deny that she’s quite beautiful,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Have you tried anything with her?”

     “When I first met her, yeah, and she swiftly turned me down.” He clicked his tongue, as if remembering the memory wasn’t pleasant. “Let’s just say she’s not interested in men like us. Or any man, really.”

     Before he could say any more, the woman known as Aissyl opened the door and invited them inside. The room he entered seemed to be what he’d liken to a waiting room or lounge. What little of the walls he saw that weren’t decorated in exquisite murals were painted a warm honey color. There were a couple of cushioned chairs sitting by the small window and a low table set in front of them. He didn’t have time to check out much more before Aissyl led them through an arched threshold into another room he presumed to be Bris’ office.

     It wasn’t terribly big but it worked fine for its purpose. Unlike the lounge, the walls were a cerulean blue, similar to the sky at dawn before the sunrise. There were tall bookcases standing on one side of the room and a spiral staircase leading up to the second floor on the other. A leather chair sat behind a pine desk atop a nondescript forest green rug. He figured the unusual empty space in front of the desk was for additional chairs if they had guests over. They must not get many of them if they hadn’t gotten a chair specifically for this room. A man was sitting at the desk when he looked up and Eric believed him to be Bris.

     The first thing he noticed was the cream-colored scarf worn around his neck, which he found odd since it was late summer. He looked to have a lean yet muscled body and, when he stood up, seemed to be just shy of Aissyl’s height. He had sun-kissed skin, cropped blond hair, and cloudy gray eyes. A smile broke out across his face upon seeing Ferreth and he walked around his desk.

     “Hey, I was wondering when I’d see you,” said Bris.

     “Well, I was planning on coming by here anyway but my new friend here--” Ferreth wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulders, making him jump slightly-- “needed help finding you so why not save a trip?”

     “Right.” Bris walked up and offered a hand. “I’m Brirsyrun, son of Nulzrot and Tallo of the air.”

     That was a…unique way of introducing himself, he thought curiously as he put his hand in Bris’ and said, “I’m Eric Travere, lord of Aurora Zenith.”

     “Aissyl said you had some important matters to discuss?”

     “Yes, well, I wanted to talk with you regarding the relationship between Thornewind and Aurora Zenith.” He took a step forward, shrugging off Ferreth’s arm. “You see, I’m planning on going to the rest of the major cities and asking them for their cooperation. In simpler terms, I’m in want of allies. I already have the town of Brinegarde as one so Thornewind’s my second stop.”

     “I see. Well, I’d like to talk more of this tomorrow morning because I have some things that need attending to today. Will that be all right with you?”

     “No, that’s good, that’s great! I’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

     Wow, a guaranteed meeting? No waiting for someone because they were fooling around instead of doing work in their office? This trip was already leagues better than Brinegarde’s and it was all due to Bris being a responsible adult. That pompous jackass Lianthorne could take some pointers.

     “I think, with that being settled, we’re done here.” Bris gestured towards Ferreth. “Ferr, could you show Eric to the Dravitae Inn so he’ll have a place to stay during his time here?”

     “Of course, my lord,” Ferreth replied with a joking smile.

     “Don’t call me that, even if it’s a joke,” Bris protested, despite his own grin.

     Aissyl led the two men outside with Bris following behind. Eric and Ferreth gave a short wave goodbye and they were off. He made sure to remember any and all distinctive markers on the roads as they walked. He didn’t want to be late for the meeting tomorrow because he was lost again.

     “So, how was your first impression of Bris?” Ferreth asked, folding his hands behind his head. “Pretty nice guy, right?”

     “Yeah, he seems like a really decent person--” he let out a chuckle before sighing wearily-- “which is a lot more than I can say about Brinegarde’s lord.”

     “I’m guessing they weren’t as nice.”

     “God, you would not believe. They’re probably the most arrogant and pretentious asshole I’ve ever met.”

     “At least Bris isn’t like that, thankfully.”

     “Yeah, thank god.”

     Despite his complaining of it, he didn’t regret his trip to Brinegarde. It was a beautiful town, like many other coastal towns, and the sweets were to die for. Meeting and becoming friends with Ven, however, was easily the best part of that trip. No beauty or tasty treats will come close to the joy having her in his life brought. She was Brinegarde’s saving grace.

     “You know, I’m curious…” He put a finger to his chin as if thinking about something before continuing. “What do you do around here, Ferreth? It must be a job that gives you a lot of free time if you’re allowed to cart me around all day.”

     “Oh, I guess I’m what you’d call a handyman,” Ferreth replied. “I do general repairs wherever they’re needed and I basically do work people don’t wanna do themselves.”

     “So it’s like you’re an errand boy, then?”

     “I’d say handyman’s an upgrade from that but yeah. It may not be the most ideal job but it lets me help people and it doesn’t pay so bad, either.”

     “No offense and all but…isn’t there something you’d rather be doing than being a handyman? I mean, I guess I don’t really understand it but still… Do you have something to aspire to?”

     He swore he saw him tense up and a glimmer of something he couldn’t quite detect before it disappeared as he answered with, “Not really.”

     That was most definitely a lie. He couldn’t figure out why Ferreth would lie to him over an innocent question like that but it was none of his business. There might’ve been more going on underneath the surface and they had only just met earlier today. No sane person tells a complete stranger their entire life story hours after meeting them. He was entitled to his secrets, as was he.

     It was soon after they arrived at the Dravitae Inn. It was a simple four-story building, with pale green walls, a dark red shingled roof, a pair of large double doors serving as the entrance, and windows on either side that allowed passersby a peek inside the establishment. On the corner was a hanging metal sign that had the name of the inn inscribed on it with a sleeping dragon below. It seemed like a good enough place to stay in during his visit.

     “Here we are.” Ferreth turned towards him. “You gonna need help getting to Bris’ tomorrow?”

     “No, I should be good. Besides--” he placed a finger to his temple-- “I have a pretty good memory so I think I have the path there memorized.”

     “All right, well, good luck tomorrow,” he said, gesturing his hand in a motion reminiscent of a salute. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.”

     He began walking back the way they came. Eric watched his figure shrink smaller and smaller before he was out of sight completely. He hoped he’d have a chance to talk with him more throughout his stay here in Thornewind. He had questions he wanted answers to, such as the nature of the people here and what he was like. For now, though, it was time to check in.

     A quick chat with the innkeeper later and he had his room. It was slightly smaller than his room back at home but it brought some comfort. A queen-sized bed sat on the right side of the room and an average cupboard opposite it. The armoire was tucked away into the upper left-hand corner while a small table and chairs were in the upper right-hand corner. A single window was set at the back, which gave him a decent view of Thornewind in the late afternoon.

     He set his bag and key down on the table before flopping onto the bed. God, he wanted nothing more than to lay there for a minute or hour. He still wasn’t used to walking and talking by himself so he was thankful for the short rest. Hey, maybe by the time he goes to Emberranth, he’ll have the skills of a functioning human being and not that of an introverted shut-in.

     He sat up, reached into his pocket, and took out his pendant. The crystal inside the bottle glinted slightly upon being held up to the light. He smiled as he brought it close to his chest, hoping his mother was watching over him.

     Tomorrow was his meeting with Bris. Other than that, he had a few days to spend time doing whatever he wanted. Sightseeing, buying souvenirs, trying out Thornewind’s cuisine, he may as well treat himself as a tourist more than a visitor. He never got to do these things before now so he wanted to make the most of it.

     May he leave Thornewind with an unforgettable experience.

[softbiker]

A Familiar Place - Part 2

Warnings: a bad word or two, literally zero editing 

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Not sure if I’m satisfied with this, but posting to celebrate hitting 200 followers!! Thanks for being here, I love you all! As always, let me know what you think :) 

This is not an “x Reader” or romance story.

“Okay, I’m 100% sure it’s not supposed to look like that.”

“Shut up, bird brain.”

“Will you two stop it I can’t hear the instructor.”

Three soldiers exchange glares behind their easels, brushes poised over canvas. Their stools are set in the back of the class, clustered close together so they can peek over each others shoulders. Other easels are arranged  in semi-circle rows towards the front of the classroom, with the instructor at the epicenter, walking back and forth and making comments to the students. To her credit, she tries to ignore the fussing commentary from the back of the room, only sparing them a glance every once in a while.

An oil painting class. Painting was never Steve’s strong suit - he prefers pencils and charcoal, quick messy sketches under his flurried fingers, captured on the spur of the moment. Bucky faintly remembers a smaller, softer Steve, the graphite on his hands, the smudges that covered his nose. Pencil fixed behind his ear, where Bucky would have placed a cigarette. But when they came here, settled into their place in Bed-Stuy, Steve decided to try out something new. And today he invited Sam and Bucky to join him.

Steve takes easily to new mediums, whatever his protests about not being a “natural” painter. Sam has no idea what he’s doing, but Bucky knows that has never stopped him from having a good time.

Bucky, though.

Bucky feels nervous each time he dips his brush, blends his paints. He feels somehow wasteful, putting his own brush to the canvas. Hand him a knife, a gun, hell - even one of Stark’s high-tech weapons, and he’s steady. A deadshot. But a paintbrush? He doubts every stroke and line. Without a talent like Steve’s, he thinks, this canvas would be better off with someone else.

But Steve is having a good time and he hates to ruin that, so Bucky quietly frowns at his canvas, tongue poking between his lips. Today’s class is a still life, their reference a pale blue vase of flowers on a table in the center of the room. Steve has rendered it beautifully, even captured the soft lighting from the windows on the west wall of the room. Sam’s attempt is passable, for someone with no training at all in studio art.

It isn’t that Bucky doesn’t have some skill, or proficiency, or artistic eye. He remembers sitting through a couple of figure drawing classes with Steve - he managed to learn a thing or two, when he wasn’t winking at the models. And his work isn’t bad, he knows that, but -

Well. He doesn’t think it’s worth making.

**********

He keeps coming to the class for a few weeks, when Steve’s schedule is free from missions and meetings, of course. They sit near the back of the room and Bucky makes good attempts but he’s not really sure if he’s making art.

“You know, I’m really not sure if oils are your medium.”

The class is over, and the instructor stands at Bucky’s elbow, looking at the row of paintings laid along the shelf to dry. Bucky had been comparing his work to his classmates, thinking pretty much the same thing.

“Not that you don’t have a hand for painting,” the instructor continues, hands slipping into the pockets of her overalls. “But I think you’re letting it intimidate you - you put too much pressure on yourself and then you hesitate. I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Bucky shrugs. “I guess.” The instructor laughed a little, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of her nose.

“See? You hesitated to tell me that you hesitate.” She was shaking her head with a not unkind smile.

“Jeez - you have a side gig as a therapist?”

“Nope - just good at seeing people.”

Bucky shifted his feet, not used to the feeling of being closely observed - it definitely wasn’t something he liked. Seeming to sense this, the instructor took a step back, shrugging her shoulders and looking away from him.

“Look, you should keep coming,” she offered. “You have some talent, that’s for sure. But you can try other things. Doesn’t have to be oil paint and flowers. What do you want to make?”

Steve is waiting outside the classroom, reading the bulletin board in the hallway. Fluorescent-colored flyers litter the board, interspersed with lost pet ads, ride shares, roommate offers, and piano lessons. Steve fingers one, tears off the number for an Asian cooking class, and tucks the slip of paper in his jacket pocket. He turns when he hears Bucky’s footsteps, that classic smile curling up his mouth.

“You, ready?”

“Yep.”

They take the subway back, dutifully ignoring the raised eyebrows and cell phones that turn their way. It’s New York - sooner or later people get over it. Bucky’s metal hand is wrapped loosely around a pole that Steve leans against, supersoldier strength and balance making him barely shift as the train speeds and slows.

“Sam is supposed to get back from that recon op this afternoon,” Steve says, his voice low enough keep their conversation private. “He’ll probably want takeout for dinner.”

Bucky nods. “He always does, after a mission. Milks it for all he’s worth, so we have to get his favorite - I bet he’ll want fried rice from that Thai place, and we better make sure there’s cold beer in the fridge.”

Steve just smiles, glances down at his sneakers, shifts his feet a little. He’ll never say a word, a single goddamn word, about how much Bucky and Sam pay attention to each other. About Bucky remembering Sam’s takeout order from every single one of their usual places; about Sam bringing home new exotic fruits from the health food market so Bucky could try things that weren’t available back in the day. He will never breathe a single word about how Bucky took Sam’s laundry and scrubbed the blood out after that mission in Denver went bad, or Sam driving back and forth to Bucky’s therapy appointments, in spite of the distance.

Loose lips, Rogers. Nope. His are sealed.

**********

“If I didn’t know any better, I would honest to God think that Stark didn’t respect me,” Sam shakes his head, shovelling rounded lumps of rice into his mouth with his chopsticks. His cheeks are comically full, but he continues to talk. “I mean, the guy really asked if I needed air support. Me? Baby, I am air support.”

Steve makes a noise of assent around a mouthful of noodles that he continues to slurp into his mouth. Bucky says nothing, but smiles into his egg roll. The coffee table in front of them is littered with takeout boxes, some still full, some already emptied. Steve and Bucky have already finished 2 beers each - Sam is drinking at a slower pace so he can continue to talk.

“I fucking invented air support. Pssh.” Sam rolls his eyes, settling back against the cushions of the couch and pulling his standard blanket over his lap.

The TV is set to a sports channel, a college basketball game they’re not too invested in carrying on in the background. Sam talks and talks, the other two barely getting a word in, but that’s alright - he always needs this, after a mission. Sam has to get it all out, decompress, debrief, de-everything in that post-victory rush of adrenaline he’s still high on when he comes home. They let him - they sit around in their sweatpants and half-watch a ballgame and shoot the shit over beers and Thai, and let Sam come back to himself.

“So,” Sam sighs, sipping his beer. “What’d you old farts get up to while I was gone, huh?”

“Mm, not much.” Steve’s reply is muffled as he continues to inhale his noodles. “Art class. Running.”

“Getting some goddamn peace and quiet,” Bucky pipes up, crumpling up the now empty egg roll bag and reaching for a full styrofoam container of steaming fried rice.

“Ha ha.” Sam doesn’t even look up from his food. “Y’all know it’s boring as hell around here without me. And who else is gonna help you two to meet some females? Hm? You think people are lining up to wingman for your hundred-year-old asses? No way!”

“What would we do without you, Sam?” Steve asks, that ironic twist to his mouth that Bucky has known all his life.

“You’d be star-spangled roadkill, I can tell you that much.”

They laugh and settle, eyes passing over the ballgame as one of the teams lines up for a free throw. It’s just the three of them in their little place, but it feels full. It’s enough. It’s home.

**********

Over the next few weeks, Bucky takes the painting instructor’s advice.

He rolls out huge canvases on the floor and slings paint in random patterns, layers of splatter until he feels like his eyes have crossed. The freedom, the lack of pressure, the fun of throwing paint around like a child - all of that he likes, but still.

“Still not sure if it’s my thing,” he tells Steve, as they look at his finished piece propped up against the wall. Steve nods, lips pursed.

“Well, we could hang it up at the compound. Tony keeps talking about needing more art around that place.”

Bucky just rolls his eyes.

“I’m not five, Steve. You don’t have to hang my scribbles on the fridge.”

He goes back to the studio and slings pots - pots and vases and key bowls and jewelry dishes and mugs. They’re passable, usable, functional - these are the words he thinks of when he glazes them in soft blue and yellow shades. Bucky likes the feel of it under his fingers, the wet firmness of the clay that yields to his hands. He’s gotten little bits of dried clay between the metal plates of his arm, but he doesn’t mind - he’s learned they’re easy enough to dislodge with a toothbrush. He gives away or takes home all of his little projects, happy to see them used.

Sam gifts him with a polaroid camera he found going through some of his parents things, and Bucky fiddles with it until he’s quite good at taking pictures. Whenever they go out he has his camera slung around his neck, an extra packet of film and a flashbar in his backpack. He has dozens of photos now - photos of Steve sipping coffee and flipping off the camera. Photos of Sam and Rhodey laughing, in full gear, when the team had drinks at the compound last month. A few photos of Natasha and Wanda, who come over to the brownstone sometimes - Natasha’s legs are folded over the end of the couch, while Wanda gets a piggyback ride from Steve. He tacks the pictures up, covering nearly half of the wall of his bedroom, not caring about the holes he leaves in the drywall.

It’s Wanda who introduces him to knitting, one weekend when both Steve and Sam get called out on a potential terror situation in London. There’s a rule - unspoken, unwritten - among Steve’s friends that someone comes to check on Bucky whenever they have to leave him alone. He doesn’t protest, knowing that they do it out of kindness and loyalty to Steve; he knows all about being loyal to Steve.

Wanda sits cross-legged on the couch, her fingers working the knitting needles at a hypnotic pace. He likes Wanda; she’s quiet and sensitive, all soft smiles and knowing eyes. A room always feels calmer with her in it. She had used his hands earlier to loop the yarn, and now he watches her over the top of his book, which he has all but abandoned.

When he asks her about the knitting, if she can show him, she looks up. Soft smiles and knowing eyes.

Bucky has always been good with his hands, so no one is surprised that he’s good at knitting. Eventually, they all have something he’s made: a beanie for Sam, a scarf for Steve, fingerless gloves for Wanda, and blankets galore for their too-cold brownstone.

**********

It fills up his time, somehow.

Bucky makes drawings, and paintings, and little origami birds out of grocery receipts. He makes bowls he can give to his friends and pictures that he can keep and blankets that he can share. He scours google and breaks a few (literal) eggs and makes banana bread that fills the brownstone with a smell that he could float on. He makes pancakes and poems and -

Bucky makes.

On the subway with Steve - a figure drawing class tonight - Bucky is staring at his hands. Ungloved metal and soft scarred flesh. His hands are tools, they’re instruments. They can be molds or looms or brushes or chisels.

“Weapons” doesn’t even enter his mind at all.

Tags:

@vacant-writings

@bitsandbobsandstuff

[samingtonwilson]

Relationship Tutor: (7) Critical Mural Analysis

relationship tutor masterlist

Summary: College AU. Bucky, a relationship novice, asks for your help in dating your friend. Unable to say no to him, you agree despite everyone and everything telling you not to.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: language

A/N: i really love this chapter-- not sure why. maybe steve? also, the gif below is not mine. if you’re reading this after may 7, 2020-- just know i’ve edited a part about the scrub because we should not be using scrubs on our faces, ladies! chemical exfoliation is the way to go. 

The night of Bucky and Natasha’s first date, you spent hours in Steve’s bed— the two of you rolling around, tangling the sheets, and breathing heavily as you finally lay beside one another.

Of course, you were fully clothed, covered in different colors of paint, and the sheets were made of canvas so you could help Steve with a piece he had due for one of his many art classes— but it would be much funnier to tell Sam the first synopsis upon his asking of where you’d been.

You turned your head to laugh with Steve, your orange, yellow, and red paint covered hand set atop your stomach. You pinched the fabric of your equally colorful t-shirt, spreading and blending the paint to form brighter, deeper, and even murkier shades before lifting that same hand to brush the latex swim cap stretched over your hair. “This is getting uncomfortable.”

“Would you rather get the warm colors in your hair?”

You shrugged, wrinkling your nose upon noticing the blue, green, and purple spread on his skin brightening the baby blue of his eyes while the swim cap made him look like some sort of Olympian. “You’re very pretty. Cool colors and all.”

“Yeah? Set me up with Wanda.”

You snorted. “I’m not running a dating service.”

“You should.”

“Like Will Smith in Hitch?”

“Haven’t seen that.”

“Have you seen anything from this century?” you asked, carefully peeling yourself from the canvas to avoid any marks that Steve didn’t approve of. You stepped onto one of the many tarps, fanning your toes out to watch the color bleed over the fabric. “You’re in your twenties, you know, not your nineties. There’s no harm in watching corny popular films, and listening to corny pop music, and paying attention to corny pop-culture.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you wiped your fingers onto the holey black leggings you didn’t mind wrecking. “And liking corny pop art.”

He gasped dramatically, lifting his head to meet your gaze with a playfully offended expression. “Pop art? How dare you?”

“There’s integrity in pop art, Steve.”

“There is,” he agreed with a nod. “I just subscribe to a more… meaningful style.”

“It’s a wonder you manage to stay upright with a head and superiority complex that large,” you quipped, laughing when he shot you a glare. “Relax, I know you’re joking.”

“I still hate pop art,” he added after a moment, managing to stand upright without so much as rustling the sheet.

“Just like you still have a bit of a superiority complex. Only a small bit,” you clarified with a single nod. You yanked the cap from your head and shook your hair out while very loudly sighing in exaggerated relief.

He rolled his eyes as he asked, “Was it really that bad?”

“No, they just always do that in the movies.” With a swirling motion of your index finger, you told Steve to turn around, pulling the stained clothes from your body and changing into the clean pair you’d brought with you.

Once you tied the drawstring at the waistband of your wide leg cotton pants and a plain t-shirt was slipped into place, you cleared your throat and smiled at Steve when he spun to face you. “What’s this for again?”

“Background of a mural I’m doing,” he shrugged with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You sure you didn’t want to shower before changing?”

You nodded, seeing color already smudged onto the cuffs of your sleeves. “I’ll just wash off what I can at the sink and have Sam deal with whatever paint gets onto these later. He’s a wizard with a spray bottle of Oxyclean.”

Steve frowned in consideration and motioned to the bathroom down the hall. “By all means.”

The bathroom was tidier than you expected. You’d never known Steve or Bucky to be particularly messy— they would spend the morning after a party they’d hosted scrubbing everything down and not minding it one bit, they actually kind of enjoyed it— it was just surprising that everything seemed to almost sparkle as soon as you flicked the lights on.

You scrubbed your forearms with a large glob of antibacterial soap, trying to scratch the paint off your palms if you had to. You then snagged the green tea cleanser you remembered Bucky bragging about and squeezed out a little, inhaling the matcha as you spread it over your cheeks and forehead.

The iciness of the cleanser tingled across your face, brushing your cheekbones, chin, and jaw with your fingertips and sighing contentedly. It suddenly made more sense to you why Bucky’s skin always looked like velvet, why the peach that had a tendency to flush constantly glowed.

You leant against the counter and found yourself imagining what he must smell like, if you could catch a whiff of mint and tea when you got close enough to press your lips to his cheek, his jaw, his lips, his—

You shook your head to yourself and patted your skin with the hand towel one last time, your hair smoothed well out of your features which looked refreshed and renewed once you’d stolen a bit of the matching moisturizer, too. 

“Steven,” you called while stepping into the hall. “Are we ordering dinner or are you the type to take a tumble in the sheets and not feed a girl afterwards— Bucky.”

His head was tilted as he gaped at you, slate blue eyes wide and hair appearing as if he’d only just combed his fingers through it, left shoe halfway off. His eyebrows came together. He stared silently for almost twenty seconds.

You opened your mouth. “Uh, —”

“You and—” he paused and shook his head. “You and— Steve and you, you and Steve.”

You raised your own eyebrows, leaning your shoulder against the adjacent wall and biting down on your bottom lip to keep from smiling. “How was your date, Buck?”

He blinked a few times, his mouth fallen open. “My, uh— My— You and Steve.”

“Italian?” Steve asked, emerging from his room in all his blue, green, and purple glory. He smiled at you knowingly. “Or Thai?”

“I’m in the mood for Thai,” you replied, nodding at him once with a sly wink. “Could you call the place on Benton? I want to say it’s called Jasmine?”

“Sure. What’d you want?”

“Veggie pad thai— extra tofu, extra spicy.”

He nodded before sparing Bucky so much as a glance. “You hungry at all, man? Want me to order you—”

“The two of you?” Bucky interjected, looking between you and Steve. He threw his hands up in exasperation. “You two?”

“Buck, I want you to look at Steve,” you said, nodding towards the man you referred to. “Then look at my hands,” you held your palms out and rolled up your sleeves to show the paint you’d missed, “and my ears— which I’m very confused by.”

You grinned when Bucky began to stammer once more. “The jealousy was very cute, though. What was that? Twice in two days? First with Tony, now with Steve.”

“S’not jealousy,” he snorted, shaking his head unconvincingly. “I’m just— I’m attached to the fabric of our group.”

“The fabric of our group?” Steve repeated, holding the phone to his ear as he squinted.

“Yeah, you know, the quilt of our friendship,” Bucky nodded. “Our friendship quilt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, and our love blanket and kindness parka.”

“Our sensitivity comforter,” Steve added, leaving the two of you in the hall as he ventured back to his room to rattle off your joint Thai food order.

“I wouldn’t fuck Steve without telling you, you know.”

Bucky looked up from his own phone wordlessly.

“You two are practically brothers and you’re one of my best friends. Kind of makes Steve my brother by proxy,” you shrugged with a laugh. “It’d be like incest, or something.”

He quirked a single dark eyebrow. “Does that make you and I like siblings?”

You shook your head with a wrinkled nose. Had the two of you actually been like siblings, your thoughts of how snuggly he would fit inside you would render a need to take yourself to a mental health professional immediately. “You and I— You and I are like husband and wife.”

“Husband and wife?” he echoed, smiling in that soft way that flipped your stomach and ached your chest. “Old married couple?”

“Absolutely. So old and dull, in fact, that your wife is helping you bag a mistress.”

He frowned in consideration and pushed off the wall, walking towards you to seemingly reach his bedroom at the end of the hall. He stopped when his shoulder brushed yours, however, and leant towards you to whisper, “S’a good thing this husband-wife thing is metaphorical.”

You looked at him, your noses close enough to bump together. You could smell the mint and citrus on his skin. “Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “If we were married, even for fifty years, you’d never catch me so much as looking at someone else. Forget about having you bag me a mistress.”

You simply stared back, your lips parted. Your heart felt as if it had stopped altogether, your ribs aching. You managed a smile when reality forced a thumping that could have brought you to your knees and pushed him gently. “I hope you used some of that charm on your date.”

He started down the hall again. “You’re not gonna split as soon as your food gets here, right?”

“Depends on what you want me to stay for.”

“Dissect the date with me,” he told you, tossing his navy blue bomber jacket into his room along with the shoes he’d toed off earlier.

You laughed dryly, loudly, and very sarcastically. “Yeah, no thanks. I have to watch the paint dry in Steve’s room. There’s also some grass outside I wanted to watch grow.”

“Very original.”

“Thank you.” You tipped your nose toward the ceiling. “I’ll stay here on one condition.”

“What?”

“You tell me where the fuck you got that skincare shit in there. My face smells like a matcha latte.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “S’my sister’s. Stole it from a package she got from Korea.”

“Well, I guess I’m going to lose more than half my paycheck to Korean skincare this month.”

“Beauty is pain, Y/N.”

It was a half hour before the food was delivered, Steve’s head in your lap so your fingers could fiddle with his blonde hair while the two of you watched recorded, protected, and backed-up episodes of The Wire— something you only agreed to upon Steve’s promise that you’d get your fill of Idris Elba.

Bucky set the two brown paper bags onto the coffee table and collapsed beside you, hair still wet from his shower. He wiped his hands down the lap of his sweatpants, leaning his head back against the upper edge of the couch. “Can we talk about the date now?”

You nodded and hoped the deep breath you took was inaudible. You shook Steve’s shoulder and laughed when he grumbled and sat up with hair pointed in every direction. “You good, old man Rogers?”

He offered you a sarcastic expression. “Phenomenal.”

As Steve busied himself with his dinner, his phone, and any tidbits of The Wire he could pay attention to, Bucky handed you your container and a pair of chopsticks before pulling out his own food.

You rose from the couch only to sit on the floor, your back against the foot of the sofa and your legs folded beneath you. You smiled at Bucky as he joined you, his back against one of the large lounger chairs. “Tell me about the date.”

“Well, we got coffee.”

Your voice thick with an unswallowed bite, you quipped, “Call me psychic, but I already knew that.”

“D’you ever consider being a stand-up?”

“I did, but they get paid dirt and I’m worth more than that.”

He shook his head with a small smile, his eyes on the contents of his dinner. “We sat at the booth you said she’d like. Back corner, with the amber hanging light.”

You nodded for him to continue, adding a bit of Sriracha to your noodles.

You continued to add hot sauce to your food until the heat became a distraction, until you could no longer blame the warmth in your cheeks and the warmth creeping up your neck on what Bucky was telling you.

Just like Bucky, you were unable to admit to yourself that you were jealous.

The delight over his features, the nervousness in the faint tremble of his fingers, the simple laughter in his voice made you wish you could be in Natasha’s place— but how could you admit that to yourself when the noble portion of you wanted his happiness above all? Selflessness was a virtue, wasn’t it? And selfishness a sin?

You were above petty jealousy and selfishness, you wanted Bucky to be happy and wanted the tears in your eyes to be blamed on the chili sauce in your food rather than the aching in your chest.

“When’s the right time to text her?”

You snorted, using your sleeve to wipe your eyes when he pushed off the floor and walked to the kitchen. “That’s not a thing worth being concerned about.”

He cocked an eyebrow as he came back into the room, occupying the same space as before. He watched as you set your container aside and polished off half of your beer in one ago, a smile pulled at his lips. “They’re always concerned about it in the movies.”

“Because movies do mirror real life seamlessly.” You set your bottle onto the table. “Just text her, tell her you had a good time, and want to see her again soon.”

“What about a casual run-in?”

“A what?”

“A casual run-in. Do you just not watch romantic comedies?”

You frowned. “I watch romantic comedies. I’m a complex person, James. I just— The idea of a casual run-in makes me uncomfortable. Like, what? Are you gonna stalk her and wait for the perfect time to jump out and make it look casual?”

He wore a scowl of his own. “When you say it like that, —”

“So that was the whole date? Coffee, talking about your lives, and walking her to her place?”

He nodded. “Kept my hands to myself, too. Slow and organic.”

“Slow and organic,” you agreed with a small, maybe even relieved smile.

PART 8: TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY ROMANTICISM 

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[affectionatespy626]

Title: Honey Colored Rose

Type: AU Fan-Fic

Origin: Mystic Messenger

Genre: Fluff (?), Sweet (?)

Words: 1978 (?)

Prompt: Flowers | Sweets

Day 5 Entry for @saeranchoiweek

[written in Saeran’s POV]

______________________________

Two long years ago, was when she came into our lives, bringing a string of changes in our days and into our home where awkward silence prevailed between my brother and I. Who would ever expect such a small, fragile looking child would be the reason for me to improve myself and my relationship with my brother? For she didn’t just needed a stable place to call home, but also needed a warm and loving family she could truly call her own happy home.

If my memory serves me right, it was the peak of autumn season when my love returned home to my side after a week of leave, along with her a small child around 2 years of age. Her appearance was almost the spitting image of my lady despite the differently colored hair and pair of eyes. The moment my gaze met those hazel colored eyes, I could feel her curiosity, wondering about my existence in the lady’s life. To be quite honest, I was so worried that I almost forgot to speak as my mind fell into a standard halt. For a while, I fell into a staring contest with the child, and I was amazed at how calm and unfazed she looked despite being around an unfamiliar person and at an unfamiliar place.

“I’m home, Saeran. I missed you.” Hearing my lady’s voice turned my attention to her, and as I walked up to her and welcomed her home with a happy embrace, I couldn’t help but feel self conscious as the child continued to stare at me with so much wonder. After that brief moment on welcoming my princess home, I couldn’t help the worries cluttering inside my head about how to introduce myself to this child without coming off as arrogant or scary. I have no experience with dealing with children, and honestly? I am terrified that I’ll become someone horrible to this precious child, like how horrible my own parents and guardians were to me. I wouldn’t want that to happen, but fear is slowly causing me to falter.

“Saeran….” But then my lady clasped my hand in hers, her warmth spreading through my veins, seeping into my heart, as my tensed body slowly relaxed itself at the mere sound of her voice. “You don’t have to worry on your own, my love. I’m always here for you.” She stated, a gentle smile curving her sweet lips, striking an arrow down my heart, as my worries began to fade and dissolve at her words. I already knew I wasn’t alone, but I suppose I just needed to hear those words from her for my mind and heart to listen and abide.

Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the little lady, her little hand clutching tightly at her mother’s hand as she saw me approaching, ready to shy away from me out of wary. And I understood how she felt. Having an unfamiliar person approach you sends alarm bells ringing, and I recall having the same reaction as a child whenever someone else other than Saeyoung tried to approach me. Always scared… always on guard… Always wary and anxious...

“Hello there.” I tried as I could to sound and look friendly, hoping with all my heart that I wouldn’t scare the child away. “My name is Saeran. May I be your friend?” At my question, I could hear my lady’s quiet chuckle, painting my cheeks a hint of pink. This is something new to me, so I am truly afraid on messing things up. I glanced towards my lady, worry dwelling in my eyes. Yet in response, she smiled at me, her eyes twinkling in delight, amused even.

‘I know you’re finding this amusing, but I’m really worried she won’t like me!’ My mind screamed and cried in frustration, a sigh leaving my lips, my shoulders falling in defeat. I rose up to my feet, crestfallen at not receiving any response from the child but a mere unfaltering gaze.

And days went on by without having any progress. My lady reassured me that the child doesn’t dislike me or anything. That she was only wary for the sudden change of her surroundings and was still trying to take in said circumstances. And with her encouragement, I tried many times to win the little lady’s favor while trying different methods. I tried making her sweets or cooking her something she may like, inviting her to a day out at the park or go to an ice cream shop, made her a colorful flower crown that was similar to her mother’s, and even went to research about things little kids may like, but still to no avail. I couldn’t believe how affected I was being rejected and ignored by a child, and it was more painful for me because she was my beloved’s daughter and I love her mother so much that I would literally do anything to make her and her loved ones happy. And I definitely want to make her child happy. And I will give it my everything to make it happen.

But then one day, while her mother was out at the store for some groceries, the little lady was left behind with me as we sat at the kitchen counter, silence ruling over us inside the room.Noticing that it was starting to pour outside, I was left in worry that my lady would be stuck in this autumn’s downpour or worse: getting caught in it and rendering her falling sick. I was debating over my head whether to go in haste and fetch her, but then I knew I couldn’t leave the child behind all alone. If I did, I would become a horrible guardian, and I would hate myself if this child ends up feeling abandoned because of my reckless behavior. At that very moment though, my brother came to my line of sight as he walked past by the kitchen pathway down to the living room as quiet as he could, trying to be as discreet and unnoticeable probably to avoid upsetting me, but I found this as an opportunity instead to ask his help whether I liked it or not. As I rose up from my seat with the intention to find Saeyoung, a hurried rattle echoed in the quiet kitchen, reeling my attention to its source and found the child missing from her seat, causing me mometary alarm. But I never expected little hands to desperately cling onto my hand, feeling it tremble and cold, and as I turned my gaze upon her, I could see fear misting in her eyes. A painfully familiar feeling that had always infested me ever since I was born. And it pained me to see it flicker in those honest hazel eyes. By instinct, I immediately crouched down to meet her face to face, hoping to ease her fears but what left her lips was something I never anticipated. Not in my entire lifetime.

 “Pa...pa… Don… go.”

 I couldn’t believe what I just heard. I was so dumbstruck that I literally just stared at her in shock, not exactly knowing what had just occurred. Then I heard it again.

 “Don go… papa… don go…”

 And this time, I was certain I didn’t mishear a word she said. Sure, it took me time to process her words, but once it finally sank it, a surge of inexplicable happiness filled my heart that I impulsively threw my arms around the child, overjoyed by her words.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

After hearing my response, the child suddenly bursts into tears, pouring her heart out as she clung desperately onto me. I lifted her up in my arms and let her head rest on my shoulder as she continued to cry streaming tears. But they were not sad but happy tears. I knew they were because the very same ones were falling down my cheeks.

Perhaps alarmed by the sound of high pitched crying, Saeyoung rushes in like a  storm to the kitchen, his face painted with extreme worry. “Saeran! What happened?!” As he yelled out his worry, both the child and I turn our attention to him. His hair was all messed up and his eye glasses were literally falling off his face, while the area around his mouth was stained with bits of chocolate smudges. Probably finding it funny, the child stopped crying and broke into a fit of laughter instead. Small humorous laughter lingered inside the place that it practically made made the whole house more brighter and glowing with life. And as contagious as it was, her laughter also made me laugh. And despite not knowing the situation, Saeyoung also fell into a fit of laughter along with us.

I couldn’t believe how one simple moment such as that allowed me to share a laugh with my brother, and from that point, my interaction with him improved for the better. It was all thanks to this precious child who unconsciously reminded me how my life is incomplete without my brother.

Moments later after my lady has come home safely from her errand,  I couldn’t help notice the surprise in her face when she spotted Saeyoung and I in the same room, playfully bickering, freely smiling, truly enjoying each other’s company while we were busily decorating a cake together and that  her child was having fun herself along with us as she tried to add honey colored candy roses on the cake we ended up making together. I was honestly expecting her to be angry and scold us when she dropped the bags of groceries from each hands after spotting the messy state of the kitchen, but noticing her sway and slowly crumbling to the floor caused alarm to me and Saeyoung and we soon raced to her side.

“Princess, are you alright?!”

“Hey, are you alright?!”

The moment Saeyoung and I yelled out in unison, we were met by her sobs as my love broke into tears. Seeing her mother in tears caused worry to the little child, leading her to hurry up to her and hugging her tight.

“Mama!” As she was still not able to speak well, all the child could do was do her best to wipe her mother’s tears away clumsily with her palms, and the sight awed Saeyoung and I, causing us to curtly exchange glances, then breaking into smiles.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. Mama’s just happy to see you having fun together.” My love comments as she glances at us fondly, a beautiful smile blossoming from her face. That alone made my heart sing in utter delight that I could almost leap to the skies.

“Here, hold onto my hand.” As I offered her my assistance and helped her up, my brother immediately catered to the bags of groceries with a little hum and skip in his step.

“Mama, cake!” The little one however, urged her mother to look at the cake she helped decorate, and with a proud smile she stated, “Fawas!” My love chuckled at the sight of her child so excited about the honey colored candy roses. “Mama, fawas!”

“Yes, sweetheart. They’re beautiful flowers.”

My heart melted as I watched my beloved lady and her child walked hand in hand to marvel at the  cake we made together. I couldn’t exactly describe the happiness I felt at that point but I know I wanted to imprint this picture into my memories, and etch it in my heart, and protect it at all cost.

 “How sweet~” I found my brother muttering the words as he stood right next to me, watching along as my lady and her child happily conversing among themselves.

“Hey, Saeyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you….. Think this is what if feels like... to have a happy family?”

“............”

“....................”

“I believe so it is, Saeran.”

[verdandir]

Honest Q&A Meme: Solange pyr Polus

What is your full name?

“Solange pyr Polus.”

What do your friends call you?

“Most just call me Sola.”

What is your favorite animal?

“Oh… well… small, cute. Fluffy. There are just so many! I’ve seen so many since I was deployed it’s amazing compared to back home. I want to gather as many up as I can and take them home to Aurelia.”

Where were you born?

“The Capital of Garlemald.”

Do you have children?

“Oh hell no! While deployed at war? And with who? Not happening.”

Is there a person/people you love?

“Aside from my family… my dearest sister, Aurelia? My squad, they’re a fine bunch… just watch yourself during leave if drinks are involved. Good fun or no, they’re like as not to lighten your purse with errant dice or sly cards if you let them.”

What is your favorite color?

“Pale blue, like the sky just after a storm passes… or once you get up high over the clouds. Ever been in an airship before? It’s an amazing experience. The sky is… something.”

What is your full occupation?

“Soldier, Decurio. Lead a fine squad but I’m afraid I can’t really discuss what we do outside of take care of patrolling, the peace, look after civilians and other... duties as ordered. Sorry.”

Are you good at physical fighting?

“I’ve trained most of my life for it. So I certainly hope so. I think most of my squad, and any unfortunate recruit tossed at me when they’ve screwed up and I get stuck filling in for drill duty, can attest to that.”

Which form are you best at?

“Well, since I’m best with a gunblade… trained with pistol and straight up brawling and wrestling in case of close-quarters engagement? Garlean Military Close Quarters combat training at high levels. We’ll leave it at that. You want to know more? Enlist… I’ll be sure to ask you join me for PT if you make it that far.”

What about magic?

“Ah, no… we Garleans are not exactly skilled or able with such things. Fascinating though it is, of course. We’ve adapted the use of ceruleum, however, in some very… interesting ways.”

Which type are you best at?

“Again… unfortunately, not. However, if I can just get my hands on some of that ceruleum enhanced… well, never mind.”

Craftsmanship?

“Bit more of a fighter than anything else. I never really had time else for fiddling, nor the mind for magitek. Aurelia was more to Father’s nimbleness with mind and hand in that kind of thing… though she’s far too sweet and gentle for all of that.”

Any other skills?

“I read a lot. I enjoy the arts as a… bystander? Nothing would make me happier than to get a chance to see some of these Eorzean concerts and museums… you know, without having to sneak in hunched over with a sack over my head. Bloody difficult to really enjoy things that way, you know? Trying to avoid getting the locals riled up and also avoid getting your commanding officers riled up for sneaking off.”

Are you an only child?

“Luckily, no. Eldest, so a lot of responsibilities and so on… But my parents blessed me with the most delightful and adorable sister there could ever be. Aurelia is perfection… so sweet. And if Father marries her off to some boorish lout of a politician that treats her poorly before I get back… I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Where do you see yourself in five years?

“Ah, hopefully safely home with a stable country and world, my sister happy and content… MAYBE married… IF someone *WORTHY* is actually out there… and no more wars. Realistically? I’d rather not think about it right now, the way things are.”

Have you ever almost died?

“I’m a soldier. In war. Yes.”

Do you have a secret, not just a secret, but like a really big secret hardly anyone knows?

“Well, I mean… I suppose I could talk about my family’s political leanings. It might get me in trouble, and them, if it got out. Which would get my squad possibly in trouble. And then I’d have to hunt you down and deal with you before I was caught. That would be messy and against what we are really wanting to achieve. So… I’d rather just not talk about it for everyone’s sake right now while things are so… tense.”

Salty or sweet?

“Both, actually! I really enjoy a good steak… but I have to admit, the little sweet buns on sticks that they sell in that neutral trade city… Kugi.. what was it… yes, Kiga..  no. OH! Right, thank you. Kugane. They’re right on addictive.”

Do you like yourself?

“I think so. I’ve stayed true to what my Father and Mama taught me. I keep to my honour. I love my country and my people. I respect the civilians I am there to protect, regardless of race or country of origin. And I understand and salute the soldier I face every time I’m ordered to the line. I have no reason to regret who I am when I look into the mirror. Can’t say the same about the politicians who put us here… but perhaps I’ve said enough about that.”

Do you believe in the Twelve?

“The who? Ah, an Eorzean belief? No, I’m not one for these constructs at all. I mean, if it makes them feel better or gives them a… mmm… not sure how to word this… but anyway, as long as they’re not doing that whole… summoning business with it, I don’t really see the problem with it as a whole? I guess. But I don’t prescribe to the whole idea, myself.”

Are you religious?

“Oh, I guess I sort of answered this already, didn’t I? No. I’m not.”

Do you carry prejudice with you?

“I don’t think anyone exists that isn’t in some manner or another. But my Father worked very hard to raise my darling sister and me away from the current… mainstream beliefs of the Empire towards those not Garlean. I don’t have much tolerance for the term ‘savages’ towards other countries that are just as advanced as our own, simply specialized in other areas. We have magitek, they have… magic? So what? How does that make them worse or us better? Their art is unique. Their history vast and old. I don’t know… I’m rambling now.”

What do you consider entertainment?

“I mean, for a soldier it’s leave, drinks and cards or dice… depending on where we’re deployed and what we have access to. And how the locals actually feel about us? It isn’t like we’re deployed in areas where we can just walk around and mingle happily or freely. I can’t do what I’d like to do, go to a musical or art show to soak in the local culture. Or really try to get to know the people. Most of them would rather try to stick something pointy in someplace I didn’t have armour. Which really is a pity… they’re so unique and amazing to see. Did you know some of them have horns? Isn’t that wild?! Ah, it’s not fair… I mean, there are places where we’re ‘in control’ but that’s not where I get sent. That’s not what I… do. We’re not… you know, never mind.”

Favorite drink?

“A good solid mead with a kick. Mama always bemoaned that I never developed the refined pallet, but Father told me it suited me just fine considering deployment would render fine wines and costly smoky liquors beyond my reach unless I wanted to tangle with the locals… something not always a comfortable endeavour and I want to try to leave as decent and respectable an impression as I can, my fellow countrymen’s behaviour notwithstanding at times. Besides, I can kick back with my squad better.”

Do you have any family traditions?

“Mm… Well, we’d celebrate the major calendar events or ‘holidays’ with large family dinners at our manor. The extended family would show up. Mama always fussed that I didn’t dress properly, but I was already in training to join the military with Father… I wasn’t going to wear dresses. And we always sat for family portraits when Father was home from deployments… and once he retired and before I was deployed… once a year. After that… well… whenever I’d have leave to go home. So it hasn’t been for awhile.”

Are you a good person?

“I’d… like to think so? I try to be. But I’m sure there are some… I guess a lot… who would hate me simply for the fact that I’m a soldier in a war. I do my best to treat everyone fairly and right. To uphold the rules and codes of conduct… protect civilians and treat everyone equally. Hold everyone accountable for their actions. But in the end, I suppose it’s a matter of perspective. We’re all just people in an ugly situation that most of us never asked to be in.”

Thank you for answering my questions.

“Oh, not a problem. It was nice to talk to someone friendly. The drink is on me, enjoy it.”

[insomniasix]

The Lady.

Ok, so since I started making my old fics FFXV related, I’ve decided to make all of them as such. I’ll add them to a Masterlist of their own later on. 

This is a piece I created for a competition and I thought it fit perfectly for @nemo-ne-impune-lacessit ‘s Evita Hemlock and Ignis. So I did something with that. 

Some might’ve already read it before (It’s been uploaded before) but I finally fixed some of my own mistakes and added a few more FFXV lines and events in it. 

Words: 2782 | Characters: Evita Hemlock , Six Ulric , Ignis Scientia | Trigger Warnings: Death, Fire, Injury and some more death along the way.

Thank you for taking the time to read! I hope you like it!

“Tell me a little about yourself.” The man with the dirty-blond hair asked.

He’s from Insomnia. Evita was certain because of his accent. Born and raised. You don’t really see psychologist from Insomnia. After the fall, there was only one other she’d come across. Ignis seemed to know a few things though.

Her molten gold eyes kept wondering behind him, following the patterns of the dark green. Under different circumstances, Evita would be mesmerized by his incredible features. A face build by perfect carves and lines, no scars or wrinkles; and those eyes, emerald green and filled with compassion and love, even for the people he didn’t know. Like her.

She wondered for a second. Could a person really carry on with such feelings? Or is it simply part of his job?

She didn’t care about it. She didn’t care about anything anymore!

In any other time, she and her sister, Six, would be rendered speechless under the gaze of such a man.

“He’s the man of your dreams, isn’t he?” she heard her sister’s stern voice.

She’d thought about it a couple of times; a man worthy of her own beauty.

Evita was a young lady, she was to turn twenty on the next week; she didn’t care about that either.

Tall, olive skinned, with golden almond-shaped eyes and coper colored, short, messy hair. Her black streak always being her trademark.

She looked a lot like her mother. Or so she remembered.

She didn’t have time for romance.

Evita and Six grew up alone. They were orphaned at a young age when the apartment they all lived in caught on fire. The flames taking mommy and daddy with them.

That wasn’t the reason she’d decided to visit the psychologist, though. The reason was… a dream!

“Evie?” she heard his calm voice ring inside her ears. It felt like an invisible hand, caressing her away from her dark thoughts, away from the wall her eyes kept staring at; leading her straight to his soft lips.

She wanted to listen to him, hear his advice. Take it, so she could save herself. Or so she thought.

“Daydreaming?” he blessed her with a soft smile.

“There’s no reason to dream anymore.” The words fell from her lips like whisper. She didn’t want the world to listen. The world she’d come to know, was cruel, judging, painful. There was no place in it for her. “The world doesn’t give you a reason to dream.”

“How about life?” the young man asked again, mesmerized by her way of thinking; by the darkness that surrounded her.

“Life is just a game, doc.” She smiled a bitter smile.

“Please, call me Ignis. Would you care to elaborate on that notion? Is life a game for you?” it was incredible, there was nothing but compassion in his voice. No hate, no fear, no dread towards her, her words, her idea of the world.

That was… new.

“Not just for me. For everyone. It’s just a pointless, stupid game, that someone, somewhere came up with. A game where all of us are bound to play by someone else’s rules. Forced to do whatever others tell us. Unable to leave whenever we want; just whenever they get bored of us. When they’ve had enough. We all have our own daemons, but…” she took a few seconds to blink the hot tears away from her eyes, rearranging her thoughts as her eyes darkened “ you can get out of it if she blesses you. If she accepts to put you out of this misery we’ve learned to call life. It’s not always a blessing though. Sometimes, it’s the exact opposite.”

“Who is she?”

Evita smiled wearily “Lady Death. The forbidden child of Shiva and Ifrit. The cursed child; abandoned by the Six Astrals and the world beyond.”

Ignis wrote something on his notebook “So you wish to tell me, Death… is a female figure.”

“Isn’t every wrong thing in the world a female figure?” she smirked “The Original Sin: Eos, Shiva, Leviathan; everything began with them.”

“I am curious,” Ignis continued after nodding at her chain of thought “this… Lady Death, tell me about her. Explain to me, how do you picture her?”

Evita’s look was dead serious the second the words left his lips “I don’t picture her, Iggy.” Her voice strong and low “She’s not a fragment of my imagination. I’ve seen her.”

Ignis’ heart skipped a beat at her words, a certain uneasiness taking its hold on him. He fixed his glasses before continuing “The dream for which you came to me.”

“Not exactly.” She breathed, her eyes falling upon the texture on the wall once more “See, it wasn’t a dream.” She explained what the Lady was for her “A tall figure, young face, a thin yet strong presence. Long dark hair, hugging her body like a vail; and her eyes… milky white and screaming chaos! Spreading terror as they fascinate any soul that dares to look at them. She always wears a long dark tunic, taking extra care not to hide her beautify terrifying face. On her right hand, a scythe, even more monumental than her own form, a shiny blade under which countless souls have fallen! That’s how she answers your song, when you call for her. Her face,” Evita let out a heartening sigh and a shiver run down Ignis’ spine as his blood had started to freeze. He didn’t know why, but something in her words, in the meaning of them, seemed so alive, so real; like he could almost see her, standing by her side “her face is so sad. She doesn’t like what she’s doing. Though, there’s no other way, she, herself, is just another pawn of the Astrals.”

“Stop telling him everything! He doesn’t need to know.” She heard her sister’s voice once again. Six was there, whispering in her ears.

Evita stopped talking.

“Can anyone call for her?” Ignis asked. He was so absorbed by her, he hadn’t written anything down in his notebook. Thinking back on that little detail, he smiled to himself for having pressed the recording button.

Evita didn’t answer. She was waiting for Six’s blessing to do so. The latter didn’t speak. She just walked around the room a little longer. Her silver eyes falling on every single picture and frame the doctor had, hanging on the rooms walls. Pictures of his trip with his friends.

“You can tell me.” Ignis smiled “I don’t plan on calling her anytime soon.”

Evita’s eyes fell on Six’s figure, right behind him, leaning against the dark green wall with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Tell him then. I’m not sure Her Highness will be more bothered than I am.”

Evita opened her mouth, as if to say something but closed it right away. She took a small breath, trying to pick the right words “Have you heard of the Swan Song?”

“Yes.” Ignis answered, filled with interest and need for knowledge “Swans sing before they die.”

“That’s just what humans do as well. A little before we die, we let out a soundless scream of sorrow and regret. To her ears, that scream takes the form of a song. A summoning spell.”

“How is it that you have seen her, then?” Ignis thought about her words “You’re still here.”

“It all started when my parents died. I was twelve years old and my sister was fifteen. Our apartment caught on fire because my mother forgot that damn cigarette before dad threw it away.” Six let out a huffed laugh at the thought of one thing leading to another. “It all happened so fast; I can’t recall how fast the fire spread along the house. I just remember… Her! She came for mommy and daddy. She came for me! She lowered herself above me, like a mother, tucking her beloved child in bed before sleep. She whispered how it wasn’t my time, but we were to meet again. She moved so quickly, yet I, like the little child I was, followed. I needed to see; I needed to know what she was doing. Who she was.” She took a breath in, eyes wondering, following her sister’s moving figure; falling on the mesmerized eyes of her listener “They sang for her! I could hear their call. She lowered herself over them, like she’d done for me and; I couldn’t understand why but… she cried for them. It was only a single, heavy tear. When it fell and touched their foreheads, they went silent.”

Ignis was nailed in place. Unable to move, like her words were hands, keeping him down in his seat. Everything he heard, so real. Like he was the one to live through it. Like it was his parents, leaving their last breath in the arms of the dark-dressed woman. Images bombarding his mind; the apartment, the fire, the Lady in black, the shaking of fear and the smell of dread.

“And then,” Evita continued “She opened her ripped black wings and the room went dark.” She mimicked the movement a bird makes when it flatters it’s wings “I woke up in my sister’s arms the next morning. Six never spoke about it, but she’d seen her too. I know. I could see it in her eyes.”

“So tell me, Ignis.” she ordered after a few seconds of silence, her eyes glued to his “How can two kids, who had never felt pain or misery in their lives, dream about such horrid things? How can all this be but a dream? Let me tell you.” she smiled “It’s just another rule. What one cannot understand, must be just a bad dream. ‘Childish Imagination’ the previous doctor called it. ‘A teenager’s dark subconscious’. Six and I know better than that.”

“Talk to me about your sister.” Ignis tried changing the subject, get her mind working on something else “Did she treat you right? Were you happy with her?”

“He’s pushing it.” Six roared, behind gritted teeth. Getting very close to his face while he just sat there, not even flinching; not paying any attention to anything but Evita.

“You’re pushing it, doc.” Evita’s eyes moved from her sister to him “We’re here because of the ‘dream’; not my sister.”

“I’m just trying to understand, Evie. Help me put the pieces together.”

“He’s either very good at his job, or a complete idiot!” Six breathed, raising her eyebrow at him. This time she was sitting in the chair behind him, her intense look not once leaving his figure.

“What should I help you understand?” Evita asked, not paying attention to her sister’s words.

“What brings you here.”

Evita brought Six back to the center of attention, despite her sister’s protests “My sister, Six, is my guardian angel.”

“Is?” Ignis noticed “I thought…”

“You thought right.” Evita cut him off “My sister is dead!”

“We always carry the thought of the ones we lost.” Ignis quoted, fixing his glasses at the bridge of his nose. “Would you tell me how it happened?”

“She was murdered.”

Evita took her time to collect her thoughts while Ignis waited for more information. He pushed her, with his own kind way, so her mind could think of the details, get everything he could out of her. He really wanted to help her move on.

Ignis made a notion with his hand and she continued.

“Her song was beautiful! It was the second time I saw Her. It was a rainy day, back in Insomnia. We hadn’t been back for a year. She went inside the Citadel while I waited with a couple of friends, she had a duty to fulfil. A few moments later, I heard her song and a tear fell down my face. See, the Chancellor of Niflheim was there. He had it out for her ever since she uncovered his plans for the Peace Signing.” Evita looked at the celling, taking a moment for the hot tears to dry out. “And well, here we are.”

“We?” Ignis found himself surprised by her choice of words once again “There’s none other here but you, Evie.”

Evita tilted her head to the side, looking at him with wonder in her eyes “You’re wrong, Ignis.” she said “There’re four of us in this room.”

The blood inside his veins froze solid, terror spreading all over his body. The vision of the young lady he had in front him had changed in an instant. The sweet, innocent version had become cold, like a porcelain doll.

It was only then that he noticed the wounds, scratches and bruises all over her face, neck, arms and legs. There was one, in particular, he got terrified upon noticing. A big wound on her eye! How? When? Why was he noticing them just now?

“What are you saying, Evie?” his voice broke, fear taking the better of him as it consumed his heart and mind.

“You still can’t see her?” Evita smiled a sad smile “She’s right there!” she pointed at the leather couch next to the office’s door.

Ignis’ gaze followed her delicate finger. His eyes instantly falling upon her.

The tall girl with the vail of raven hair and eyes grey as a winter’s cloud. She was dressed in white, just like Evita and she was also covered in wounds and scratches. Ignis’ eyes fell upon the left side of her entire body –the parts he could see anyway. It seemed as if it was still burning. How was that possible? The wound seemed to start at the middle of her cheek, running down to her fingers and toes.

“Hey, Iggy!” Six waved with a smile when he’d finally realized she was actually there as well.

“Who are you?” Ignis raised from his seat “How did you get in here?”

“Get –“ Six sighed while rolling her eyes “I was here from the start. You were just not ready to see us.”

“See… you?” he was starting to lose it, he was sure of it “Evita, what –“

When his eyes fell upon her, Evita’s dress was covered in blood, seemingly running down from the wound on her eye. He run to her side, wanting to help her; but she just stared at his direction, her golden eyes now milky white and her face… nothing like he was expecting.

Ignis expected to come across something. Pain, agony. The only emotion she showed was… regret.

That’s when he remembered.

“Lady Death.” He whispered, feeling his heart ready to burst out.

“Can you see her now?” She asked.

“I…” he’s voice broke at the emotions bombarding his mind “This can’t be happening.” He fell on his knees in front of her.

“It’s all just a dream.” Evita caressed his cheek while she explained as he leaned into her touch “Your way of avoiding the pain. All the stories you heard from me; all yours. The fire, that took your parents when Niflheim attacked Insomnia. The ‘murder’ of your ‘brother’, Noctis. All yours! Your very own Swan Song.”

Ignis’ eyes where filled with agony when he looked at her again “Who are you?”

“I am a Reaper.” She smiled wearily “I’m here to remind you of who you truly are.”

Ignis burst out in tears at her words, realizing it was his time. That this was real.

“Your song is the most beautiful tone I’ve ever heard!” Evita breathed “You truly do not want to die!”

“But you must come with us.” Six stepped in, voice stern and yet breaking for him “Accept the end.”

And then, amongst the pain, the fear and the agony that ripped his heart apart, Ignis saw her standing in the corner, near the exit door.

A dark, shapeless figure; moving closer with every passing second. A single ray of light running along the blade of her scythe.

“My Lady.” He managed to say in between his shallow breaths her sad gaze caused.

‘She doesn’t like what she’s doing.’ He heard Evita’s words in his mind again ‘She’s just another pawn of the Astrals!’

“She’s not here for us, Ignis.” the sisters said in unison, their merged voice caressing his ears like a song “She’s here for you.”

Ignis looked at her through his eyelashes, coming across her haunting, void eyes. She bowed above him and shed a single tear. Suddenly, all the feelings he felt were gone. Pain had become peace, sorrow had become bliss.

It was all over.

But he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything anymore!

Lady Death stretched her black, ripped wings and darkness fell over the room.

“Death,” she whispered in a haunting screech “is only the beginning.”

Tagging: @nemo-ne-impune-lacessit @mzargentum @nykamito @thedragontamerying @fieryfantasy @ladye11e @glacian-apocalypse @asonataspassions (If you want to be added or removed please let me know! Thank you again!)

[aion-rsa]

How Do We (Maybe) Say Goodbye to Wynonna Earp?

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

Everyone deserves love. If this ends up being Wynonna Earp‘s final legacy, then it’s a fitting one for a show that moved the needle on queer representation on TV and always had an immense degree of empathy for its characters, even and perhaps especially when those characters got things wrong. In a pop culture that still skews heavily towards glorifying performances of White, male stoicism, Wynonna Earp has always been unapologetic about granting its sloppy, sentimental characters grace.

Messy women don’t often get the benefit of the doubt in culture, popular or otherwise. We’re scorned, doubted, and belittled. Asked to stay quiet, to do the emotional labor for boys and men, and to give our own socialized performance of perfection while we do so. Wynonna Earp doesn’t just make space for the messiness of women; it revels in it. It celebrates it. It has fun with it. Too often, when discussing the need for better representation and inclusivity in our pop culture, we’re given a false binary: that something can either be “politically correct” or it can be fun. This is usually a bad faith argument. Just because something isn’t (fun) for you, doesn’t mean it isn’t (fun) for someone. Wynonna Earp has made its mark by understanding that just because something is pleasurable for women, doesn’t mean it isn’t important—in fact, in a culture and media that so rigidly polices women’s pleasure, that’s exactly why it’s important.

“Everyone deserves love,” Waverly tells silk-witch Brigitte in “Old Souls,” the maybe-finale (🤞) of the series and the definite finale of Season 4, and she may be talking about the murderous jilted bride, but she’s really talking about every character on this batshit wonderful show. Waverly has long been the heart of this series because she’s long been Wynonna’s heart—a manifestation of the goodness of the world Wynonna is tasked with protecting. In “Old Souls,” Waverly asks Wynonna to try to find that goodness in herself (you know, after they successfully murder the haunted wedding dress). Because how exhausting it must be to constantly fight to save a home that you believe you have no place in. “Do you want to go?” Waverly asks Wynonna about Doc’s invitation to travel the country together. “I want to protect you,” Wynonna replies.

If you’ve been socialized as a woman in this society, then odds are you are better at advocating for others than you are at advocating for yourself—you’re better at protecting others than you are at protecting yourself. We’ve seen the toll this mindset has taken on Wynonna, especially this past half-season. She’s bitter, and sad, and oh-so-tired. She’s lonely, too. She’s made a place for herself—alone—in her job as the heir, the protector, because she doesn’t think she has any right to ask for what she wants. No one ever taught her how. Waverly is there to remind Wynonna that she does have a right to ask for what she wants… if she only lets herself believe that she deserves it. So Wynonna stops fighting solely for other people, and she starts fighting for herself too. She lets herself believe that she deserves happiness (spurred on by the support of her loved ones), and she throws on her leather jacket, hops on the back of a motorcycle, and she goes to find it. Because, on Wynonna Earp, everyone deserves love—in whatever form(s) it may take—and that shouldn’t be as goddamn radical as it is, but here we are.

Rachel deserves love. She deserves the space to heal and thrive. She deserves to enjoy being a kid again, after losing her mother and having to fend for herself in a factory full of zombies. After being Nicole’s family for a hard year and a half, dressing in Wynonna’s clothes and trying to distract Nicole from looking towards the horizon for the woman she loves and lost. She deserves to go fishing with Nedley, and to take Billy along too, after fighting so damn hard to remind everyone else to save him. She deserves the chance to prove Wynonna wrong about Purgatory, and what kind of home it can be. She deserves to sing for her family, and to call it what it is: a gift.

Nedley deserves love. He deserves to see Nicole continue to grow into the role he left behind for her, and to walk her down the aisle—because just because he isn’t her biological parent doesn’t mean he isn’t her dad. Nedley deserves to binge-watch Pretty Little Liars and any other “guilty pleasure” TV show he damn well pleases (because it knows there is no such thing as a guilty pleasure—only the things that society tries to shame us for loving). He deserves to run Shorty’s for the business, sure, but really as an excuse to help take care of the town that takes care of him in return.

Jeremy deserves love, even if the show has not always known how to give it to him. (If there is one thing Wynonna Earp has consistently struggled with, it is finding space for its characters of color in a very White world and story.) He deserves a chance to run an institution like Black Badge with community and hope rather than hierarchy and violence (and to maybe find a deeper piece with what happened to Robin). After everything he has lost, I love that—just like Wynonna—when Jeremy meets someone he likes, he is still able to choose vulnerability.

Doc deserves love. He deserved the chance to turn from a cowboy into a cowman—because he took accountability for his actions and strove to be a better human. I love that Doc’s redemption has been found in loving and caring and nurturing (himself and others) rather than in the killing that got him thrown into a well to begin with. I love that this series never believed that, just because Doc was from long ago, he had to be filled with “period appropriate” hate. Instead, it believed that Doc would love as hard any anyone else, and that he would be the one to stand next to Waverly Earp at her wedding. Doc saw the goodness in Wynonna, even when she couldn’t see it in herself, and he also understood that the path to loving ourselves is one we must all take for ourselves. “Yes vengeance drove my thinking—kept my alive, gave me a purpose. But when it was dark and I was scared—and I have been scared for a long time, Wynonna—I mostly thought about love.”

Nicole deserves love. She deserves a chance to be chosen by the home she chose for herself again and again, something she has found with the Earps and in the sheriff’s office. Nicole deserves infinite peace and happiness, even if that isn’t really a thing. After 18 months losing hope, she deserves to wake up to it next to her every morning. She deserves to be at home with her wife, going on all of life’s adventures and holding her hand when the firelight grows dim.

Waverly deserves love, and she is that rare TV character who has almost always understood that. She is a superhero not because of her angel father, but because she has always found a way to be ferociously kind. Waverly Earp is Wynonna’s whole damn heart, and she kept it safe when her sister couldn’t, but that’s no way to live, and Waverly knows that too. “My biggest fear used to be that you’d never come back. That you’d never get to know the real me. But now I know you always will, Wynonna.” Waverly’s greatest wish came true when she got her sister back in the series pilot; everything that’s happened after that has been dreams she never even thought to wish for.

Wynonna deserves love. She deserves to be the hero of her own story. She deserves to ride off into the sunset with the man she loves, and her sister and best friend only a phone call away. She deserves to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and how Alice is doing. She deserves, finally, to travel light.

Everybody deserves love. We all deserve to see ourselves represented in the pop culture we love—and not just in sad subplots with tragic endings. (See, other TV shows, it’s actually quite easy not to bury your gays.) If this really is the end, then I think I will remember Wynonna Earp for the way it loves its characters and wants good things for them (even while putting them through tons of delicious angst and misery for narrative purposes). I will remember it for how it unapologetically believes that (queer) women deserve pleasure, deserve fun, deserve messy heroes, deserve love. It’s hard to believe this show has only had four seasons. Its legacy feels so much bigger than that.

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Goodbye, Wynonna Earp. Until we meet again…

The post How Do We (Maybe) Say Goodbye to Wynonna Earp? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3dSqBLk

[fatgirlwritesscenarios]

Poolside

((This is not a request. This is just something I decided to put together because I realized that I hadn’t done anything for Seungcheol in a while. Also, this is dedicated to my beautiful curly-haired, plus-sized, women of color who are K-Pop fans, but don’t really get any representation in scenarios or imagines. We deserve love, too, ladies! More of these will be coming, ya’ll. Stay tuned!))

Pairing: SeungcheolxChubby-Black!Reader 

Genre: Fluff/The barest hint of angst

Word Count: 7,521 (Apparently I go hard for the leader) 

Summary: Summer days were on the verge of murdering you, but Seungcheol had a way of making it all better. All he wants in return is for you to be happy...to believe his confession...and to say yes. 

Winter had come and gone with Spring making its way out, allowing for Summer to settle in quite concretely. The blazing sun was kicking up its intensity on this particular Wednesday. The day was beautiful, but the heat left a lot to be desired, like constant air conditioning wherever you go. At the university, most of the students weren’t even entertaining the idea of long pants or long-sleeved shirts…and you were one of them.

“My god, this day is broiling hot, but this man is even hotter.” Laying down in the green grass and eyes glued to the phone screen held over your face, you mindlessly scrolled through Instagram.

“Who are you talking about?” your friend asked from beside you, her back pressed to the base of the tree and quite focused on her Statistics work.

The both of you had posted up under a shady tree in order to escape the early noon heat, the shade offering some reprieve, but not enough to keep from feeling sweaty and sticky. It was far better than being in the dorms, though. Well, at least the ones without air conditioning.

You lifted your phone up to show her the picture of Charlie Hunnam you had been staring at for five minutes. She glanced at it then snorted, shaking her head in amusement. “You and King Arthur,” she muttered, going back to her work, “What’s so enthralling about him?”

“It’s not King Arthur himself. It’s the guy playing him,” you corrected, swiping the tip of your tongue over your lips with a little giggle, “He’s just so…sexy.”

“Who’s sexy?”

That voice caused a small skip in your heart and your ears to tingle in embarrassment that he heard your choice of praise…and then a little more embarrassment when you saw who the newcomer was. Seungcheol was just tossing his bag against the base of the tree and sitting down next to you with a pout on his face. He looked quite delicious on this day with his disheveled hair sweeping in front of his dark eyes and silver earrings, his sleeveless shirt showcasing his arms.

He looked at you accusingly, nodding at your phone, “Who are you talking about?”

“My future husband,” you answered smoothly, focusing back on your phone and attempting to keep your heart from running away with itself. Thankfully, the darkness of your skin kept the blush burning just beneath the surface of your cheeks from showing.

He laid down next to you and you could just feel his cheeky grin, “Oh, so you’re talking about me then.”

“You wish, Choi. You may be cute, but you got nothin’ on Charlie Hunnam,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, flashing that same picture of the King Arthur actor with his ice blue smolder and rugged appearance.

Seungheol pretended to scowl at the picture before nudging your bent knee with his fist, smirking at your giggles. Ever since the day the both of you met, this had been the dynamic of your friendship: playful teasing and platonic flirting. You weren’t exactly sure what it was about you that made him feel comfortable enough to flirt so shamelessly, but you didn’t question it. As long as it meant that you got to keep him in your life, you would play along…no matter how badly you wished it were real…no matter how much you actually liked him.

Seungcheol was the kind of guy that looked far too intimidating for his overall warm, charismatic personality. Women fell hard for his pouty lips and expressive eyes and then practically dropped to their knees when they discovered how sweet he was. The only other person who was similar in initial appearance was Kim Mingyu and he only seemed more intimidating because of his height. You were one of the few females lucky enough to be included in Seungcheol’s inner circle, to be a true friend to him, but you would be a liar if you said you didn’t have deep, intimate feelings for him as well.

Not that it mattered. Of all the women he could choose from, you doubted he would choose you and it wasn’t because you didn’t think you were attractive enough. On the contrary, you fancied yourself quite the beauty in your own way, as was everyone; you just thought you looked too…different for him, too unlike his type.

You turned on your side with his back facing him after he nudged you, listening to him whine about the actor while you laughed and continued to scroll through your feed.

“I didn’t know you were into white guys, Y/N,” he challenged and you could practically hear the pout he no doubt still had on his face; for one reason or another, he hated it when you showed interest in other guys. You just figured it was because it took away from the fun he had of always flirting with you.

“I didn’t know you would get so jealous over a Hollywood crush, Choi,” you shot back, turning over again when his hand gripped your hip and tugged you onto your back. Your skin burned where his hand had touched, feeling the imprint of his fingers and palm on your body…which was just great because it wasn’t like you were hot enough already.

“Of course I’m jealous. You’re making eyes at a blue-eyed medieval king that I can’t even compete with and ignoring me. Who am I supposed to flirt with now?” He didn’t appear to notice, but Seungcheol never removed his hand from your hip, simply sliding it across your stomach to let it settle on the opposite one.

Heat trailed wherever he touched and you squirmed with how good it felt, wishing you could tell him to touch you more. Since that obviously wasn’t an option, and a response was still needed to his childishness, you settled for rolling your eyes loudly and turning to look at him. Unfortunately, this was at the exact same time he decided to try and be cute and reached out to flick your forehead. You gasped and retaliated by smacking his stomach, Seungcheol curling up with a cry and laugh.

“First of all, I’m not ignoring you; kind of hard to do that when you’re practically in my ear. Second of all, don’t you get enough attention from literally every other woman on campus?” you asked.

“I’m not getting yours, though,” he countered.

“You’re so greedy.”

“Only for you, baby.”

“Drama king.”

“A queen needs a king.”

“Guess I’ll be hitting up King Arthur then.”

“Why do you hurt me like this?!”

“I just noticed that you two are wearing almost the exact same outfit.” Your bickering came to a momentary halt, you and Seungcheol looking up at your friend as she studied the both of you closely, “It’s kind of adorable.”

True to her observation, when you looked at Seungcheol’s outfit, you saw him clad in distressed, light-wash jeans, a white sleeveless shirt with a red, long-sleeved plaid tied around his waist and black Timberlands. It was identical to your own attire of distressed, light-wash girlfriend shorts, white tank top with a red plaid short-sleeve over it and black kicks. You blinked and Seungcheol smirked.

“It is adorable,” he agreed, finger the hem of your tank top, “We make a really cute couple!”

Your brain was jamming up and you couldn’t formulate a witty comeback quick enough. It wasn’t even the fact that he agreed with your friend- he had been making similar comments to you since day one. It was just the circumstance of the entire situation: the clothes, his touch, the sparkle in his eye that rendered you far too weak…those kissable lips, messy hair and strong arms! It was too much to immediately ignore. You wanted to be a cute couple, you wanted this to be true…you wanted him to say it and mean it. Hiding the grit of your teeth and the furrow of your brow, you sat up on your knees, facing him and your friend while stretching your arms with a deep sigh.

“It’s too hot to deal with you and your shameless flirting right now,” you said, tossing him an amused smirk to which he only grinned and winked while sitting up as well, “It’s too hot to do anything at all.”

You shook your curls with a groan, the tresses plastering to the back of your neck as the briefest of cool breezes teased you. Your dark skin still felt sticky with seat, your thick thighs slick and your tank top sticking to the pudge of your stomach. You didn’t notice, but your friend certainly caught Seungcheol drinking in every inch of you, admiring your beauty.

“You know the pool is open to all students now since it’s getting so hot. Why don’t you go for a swim?” she asked while you reached for your backpack.

“I’m so down,” you answered, checking the time on your phone and deciding you should start heading for your next class, “but I never have time during the day. Between all of my classes and my part-time job, I’m only ever free at night and by then, the pool is closed.”

She laughed at your disgruntled expression, shrugging her shoulders, “Guess you’re out of luck.”

“Shit out of luck, apparently,” you mumbled pitifully as you moved to your feet with your backpack pulled over your shoulders, “Anyway, as I suffer, I have to get going to my next class. I’ll see you guys later.”

Just as you turned to go, you felt a tug on the strap of your backpack that almost sent you toppling backward. Looking over your shoulder, Seungcheol’s smiling face met your gaze as he, too, stood up.

“I’ll walk you,” he stated, dusting off the back of his jeans of any grass.

You quirked an eyebrow and crossed your arms, tossing him a little grin, “Really? Is that so?”

He met your gaze with a flirtatious one of his own, “I have to make sure the queen makes it to class safely, don’t I?”

“Even though your class starts at the same time that mine does and is clear across the campus in the other direction?”

“A sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

Giggling and stepping closer to him, you dusted off bits of grass from his shoulder, “As tempting as the offer sounds, Choi…this queen says no.”

Instant pouting as his brows furrowed at you, “Why?! How come?!”

“Because I’m not trying to draw attention to myself by walking to class with you and 300 groupies!” you answered, putting your finger up an inch from his lips as he went to argue, “And don’t even bother trying to tell me that it won’t because it has and it will.”

You smiled sugar-sweet at him then patted his chest, “Stop pouting and get to class, Choi. I’ll see you later. Later, Y/F/N, enjoy the pool for the both of us.”

With that and a pivot, you were sauntering away, groaning in discomfort the minute the sun’s rays hit you full on once you left the protection of the shady tree. Seungcheol watched you go, pout still firmly in place and a deep sigh passing through his nose. Your friend’s laugh made him look at her, though she kept her gaze on her notebook.

“She’s not wrong, you know. There’s already a gaggle of girls over there trying to collectively work up the courage to approach you.” She pointed her pencil off to the left where, indeed, a group of six girls were huddled together, taking tentative steps towards Seungcheol and your friend, giggling amongst each other and fluttering their hands. Seungcheol quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t acknowledge them, giving his attention back to your friend as she continued speaking.

“With that being said, and noting the size of your little fan club, it’s no wonder you’re not getting anywhere with Y/N. She doesn’t think you’re seriously flirting with her, so you’re going to have to try a little bit harder, like actually confessing to her.”

He flinched at the emphasis as a deep blush dusted his cheeks, a frustrated sigh passing his lips, “I know, but how?”

“I don’t know. You’ll think of something,” she said, starting to pack up her things at this point and moving to stand up, “but it better be soon or else Y/N is going to come to the conclusion that there’s no future with you beyond friends and permanently friend zone you. Don’t want that now, do you?”

“Don’t threaten me like that,” he said, half playful and half serious even as she fell into full laughter at his plight.

“I’m just stating the facts, friend. Like I said, though – you’ll think of something.”

Once on her feet, she gave Seungcheol a friendly pat to his back and made her leave. He tossed her a small smile, eyes trained on the spot she once occupied and a deep sigh passing his lips. He rubbed the back of his neck in thought, knowing full well that your friend was right and he did have to make a move, a real move, before someone else got smart and started to pursue you, too.

Question again, though: how?

“Hi, Seungcheol! How are you today?”

Thoughts interrupted, he looked up to see the group of fluttering girls circling around him, obviously having found the courage to approach him at long last. He found it cute, but inconvenient, wanting only one girl’s full attention instead of six that only had a hand in spooking the one away. Regardless, he smiled at them, hiding how much he wished they would just disappear.

“Hi ladies. I’m doing well. How are you?” he asked in return.

“Well! We’re doing well!” one of them answered, a fair-skinned girl with a short hairstyle and cute round eyes that the others obviously chose as their spokesperson, “You…You look really handsome today.”

The others giggled and Seungcheol laughed a bit nervously, his dimpled smile causing them to swoon, “Ah, thank you. That’s kind of you to say. I have to get going now. You all have a good day.”

“Oh! Seungcheol!” He paused in his escape and looked at the girl expectantly. “A bunch of us are going to the pool later this afternoon. We were wondering if we’re going to see you there?”

It was like a lightbulb went off over his head! A 100 watt smile lit up his face and caused the girls to flutter more. Their hopes were dashed when he shook his head, though his smile never wavered.

“Sorry, but not this time,” he said, turning away, “I have to get to class now. Bye.”

He left the girls there to frown after him, Seungcheol making his way across campus with a bit of a skip in his step. He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he mentally worked out his brilliant plan, though the first part would be trickier to accomplish than the rest. Regardless, he would get it done and by the end of it, he would either have a girlfriend or a broken heart. He hoped it would be the former.

*~*~*~*

It was around 9:30 PM and that Friday’s heat seemed to be carrying over into the night. Or maybe it was just your heat-trapping pod room with little breeze from the open window that made you feel like you were being baked. The desk fan barely provided any relief as you lay in bed, clad in your bra and short-shorts to minimize the feeling of suffocation. You supposed you could take a cold shower to relieve the heat.

“That may be my only option,” you mumbled to yourself, drawing your hands down your sweaty face, “It’s not like I have very many other choices.”

You let your arms fall back by your head, taking a deep breath…and groaning loudly as you rolled onto your stomach, “Ugh! This sucks!”

A sharp knock to your door pulled you from your pity-party as your friend and pod-mate burst in without waiting for your consent; not that it mattered much to you.

“Yo,” she greeted, making a beeline for your closet.

“Hey. Where’s the fire?” you questioned with a laugh, hearing her snicker.

“Don’t even joke like that. It’s hot as fire in here,” she retorted, rifling through your clothes.

You pulled yourself to sitting up with a sigh, messy curls wild around your head and your stomach making cute rolls while you slouched, “What are you looking for, anyway? None of my clothes even fit you. “

“I’m looking…for this.” She pulled your swimsuit out of your closet- a cute little tankini in blue and white- and tossed it on your bed next to you, “Put it on.”

Quirking your brow, you asked, “Why? Where are we going?”

“We aren’t going anywhere, but you are. Seungcheol is taking you out.”

You practically fell off the bed reaching for her, tugging on her arm before she could leave the room, “What do you mean Seungcheol is taking me out? Taking me where?”

She smirked at the hiss your voice dropped to, panic hidden in your tone, but flashing bright in your eyes. She could only guess, but she was about 80% sure your heart was about to start galloping away at the mere thought of Seungcheol seeing you in a swimsuit…and she wouldn’t be wrong.

“I have no idea where he’s taking you, but apparently it needs a swimsuit. You should hurry and change. He’s waiting in the living area,” she advised, laughing at your squeak.

After she left, you stood there with your mouth gaping like a fish, whipping around to stare at your swimsuit as if it were the culprit that put you in this situation. What was Seungcheol thinking? And where was he trying to take you? This wasn’t the first time he swooped in at some strange hour to kidnap you for an impromptu adventure- you two would often go on little foodie adventures if Seungcheol found a new 24-hour place. However, this was the first time an outing required such specific attire.

A searing blush tipped your ears, “Now I’m starting to regret buying this swimsuit…”

You fingered the material, remembering the day you bought it with the intention of flaunting yourself around at the beach with friends. It wasn’t exactly your plan for Seungcheol to be one of the first to see it on you; maybe after you broke it in and embodied the sexy confidence you wanted to have before he saw you. After deliberating for a second more, you huffed and started to change, unbuttoning your shorts and pulling them down.

“He’s going to see me at some point anyway. Why not tonight?” you mumbled, removing your bra and underwear before pulling on the swimsuit, tearing the tags off.

Within a few minutes, you were exiting your room with your shorts pulled back on and a loose red tank top with a cute design hiding the suit top. A small pouch holding your phone, keys and wallet was slung over your neck, resting by your hip.

You walked into the living area just as your friend was going into the kitchenette, spotting Seungcheol leaning against the wall by the fridge with a gym bag strapped over his chest. You noticed that he was already wearing swimming trunks the same color as your swimsuit along with a red sleeveless shirt, wondering how he kept managing to make anything you wore into a ‘couple’s outfit’ with him.

He had already been laughing at something Y/F/N said, but the second he saw you, his smile turned up a few notches.

“It took you long enough!” he teased, pushing off the wall to approach you, sliding his fingers to the back of your neck where they tangled in your curls, “What were you doing exactly?”

He manipulated your head by making you shake it back and forth until you whined and shoved his arms away, “Trying to figure out where you’re trying to take me that requires a swimsuit. The beach is almost an hour away and I would sooner take all core classes and get a full-time job next semester before I go swimming in a lake at 10 PM at night.”

He grinned, mischievous as always, and placed a finger to his lips, “It’s a surprise.”

You groaned, your head lulling back, “Choi, it’s too hot for your surprises! Don’t do this to me.”

“Hey! Why don’t you trust me?! Have I ever lead you wrong?”

He got you there. You sighed and relaxed your shoulders, casting him a softer smile, “No, you haven’t.”

“And I’m not going to start now, so trust me. You’re going to love it,” he assured you, dropping his hands onto your shoulders as his warm smile disarmed you.

You were hyper aware of how close the two of you were, the lingering scent of his cologne tickling your nose. It was moments like this that made you absolutely hate the dynamic of your relationship, to be so close for a kiss and yet not able to close the distance. It was killing you; softly and slowly, but definitely. You just nodded at him in answer and followed his lead when he turned you around by your shoulders to push you towards the front door.

“We’re leaving, Y/F/N! I’ll bring Y/N back safely!” he called out, the both of you slipping into your shoes by the door.

“You better!” she called back, you and Seungcheol sharing a laugh before closing the door behind you and stealing into the night.

The dorm building where your pod was located trapped the day’s heat as efficiently as your own room did, your skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat you obtained just walking through the halls. You were only too happy when you stepped outside and inhaled lungfulls of fresh air, no matter how warm it was. You quietly crept through the campus, passing by other students lounging in the grass in groups, obviously deciding it was better to laze around outside than to dehydrate in the dorms. Your heart jolted when Seungcheol smoothly slipped his hand into yours, clasping it securely and tugging you just a little closer to him. The gesture was so sudden, you had to take a few moments to remind yourself that this wasn’t real intimacy; Seungcheol probably didn’t even realize what he was doing.

Regardless, you didn’t pull away yet. You wanted to enjoy the feeling of his large hand encompassing yours for as long as possible. That lasted almost 10 minutes, the athletics building looming close and Seungcheol leading you around the back. The smell of chlorine hit your nose and you wrinkled it involuntarily while your brows furrowed.

“Are we at the pool?” you asked, Seungcheol releasing your hand and pulling out his phone.

“We are. Can you hold this and shine the light here?” He turned his phone flashlight on and placed the device in your hands, pointing towards the lock on the door you were approaching.

You looked between him and the door, dumbly holding the phone with the light shining on the lock while Seungcheol rifled through his bag. “Choi!” you hissed, anxiety bubbling in your chest, “You’re not seriously breaking into the pool, are you?!”

“Can’t break in if you’ve already got a key.” The silver of the key he pulled from his bag glinted in the light, a smirk touching his lips.

You were speechless, simply staring with your mouth gaping open even as he unlocked the door and carefully pushed it open. He stuck his head into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness and checking to make sure the coast was clear. It was then that you finally found your voice, snapping your mouth shut.

“Seungcheol, where did you get the key?” you whispered, slightly concerned; this type of behavior wasn’t normal for him…not really…not breaking and entering, key or no key.

“I have my sources,” he mumbled ominously, deeming it safe and gently taking your wrist to guide you inside.

You were quiet, and thoughtful, as you followed in him, the flashlight only intensifying the shadows surrounding you once the door had closed. “…You stole it from Joshua, didn’t you?” you asked flatly.

He choked and you could almost make out the scandalized look on his face in the limited light provided, “Hey, what kind of man do you think I am? Of course I didn’t steal it!”

“So Hong knows you took the key that was entrusted to him by the swim coach to sneak into the pool way after hours?” you challenged, crossing one arm over your chest while the other held the flashlight steady.

“I didn’t say that.” He grinned at you, “But if it makes you feel better, this isn’t Joshua’s key. It’s a copy.”

“…That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Aish, do queens always worry this much?” he teased, pinching your cheek ever so gently, teasing you and soothing you in the same gesture, “You said you would trust me, Y/N.”

Damn him and his puppy-dog eyes that he somehow managed to let melt into his voice, a whine reaching your ears and quieting any other concerns you had. For now. You obeyed when he told you to stay put while he went to turn the lights on, taking the phone with him and your eyes following the bouncing light as he left. The darkness seemed to swallow you whole and the heat only continued to make sweat trickle down the back of your neck. A few minutes later, the lights were flipped on, bathing the room in fluorescent white and highlighting the blue of the pool. As soon as your eyes landed on the water, you felt an incredible urge to jump in, to cool yourself down. You had been exceptionally hot all week with your only reprieve being a cold shower every night, but that could only do so much. You didn’t get to enjoy the pool like all of your friends did.

You heard a low whistle and your heart nearly dropped. Did someone catch you? Was it campus security? Were you about to get expelled? No, no you weren’t. It was just Seungcheol being impressed by the size of the near Olympic-sized pool.

“I knew it was big, but it doesn’t look this big when dozens of people are here at a time,” he mused, making his way back towards you and bumping your shoulder with his, “Don’t worry, Y/N, I won’t let you drown.”

You scoffed and side-eyed him, “That’s funny because you and I both know you would be the one drowning and I would have to save you.”

“If it meant that I got to kiss you, I would risk it.”

…What the hell? You were grateful that he wasn’t looking at you as he took his bag off because you went stock still, eyes staring wide at him like a deer caught in the headlights. That was a new kind of joke and you weren’t sure how to take it! He sounded so sincere, but his usual playful grin gave you doubts. This whole situation was just strange, even for him, and you were having the damnest time trying to figure out what was actually going.

“You ready?”

Blinking, you focused your attention back on Seungcheol just as he was pulling his shirt over his head. You got an eyeful of beautiful tanned skin, broad shoulders and a dark happy trail that you weren’t prepared to see. Your first thought was to look at anything but him, which you did, and your second thought was to wonder if he went shirtless often to get such an even tan.

“Uh, ready for what?” you questioned after a short delay.

He looked at you like the answer should have been obvious, “To swim.”

You snapped your eyes back to him, wide and surprised, “Are you serious?”

“Well, I didn’t bring you here to just stare at the water, Y/N. You said you wanted to go to the pool, but didn’t have any time during the day. So here we are: the entire pool just for you! Let’s enjoy it!”

He jumped in before you could protest, flinching as you were splashed. Seungcheol resurfaced a second later, shaking his head and raking his fingers through his hair. He stared at you expectantly and you stared back, feeling conflicted. On the one hand, you knew if you two were caught, you risked possible expulsion, and getting poor Joshua Hong in trouble as well. On the other hand…it was so hot! And the water looked so inviting! And Seungcheol was there shirtless and smiling up at you…

With your mind made up, and moving quick enough to keep yourself from changing it, you dropped your pouch on top of his gym back, took your tank top off and stepped out of your shorts. Your tankini with the caged bottoms was a…little tighter than you remembered it being when you tried it on at the store, but that didn’t keep it from looking any less adorable on you. The top didn’t quite reach all the way down to the bottoms, stopping just above your belly button and creating a soft looking muffin top. Your hips and derriere were almost too much for the bottoms to handle, but you looked cute and felt cute, your confidence radiating.

Seungcheol stared at you shamelessly, his eyes drifting up and down your figure, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He didn’t know what kind of swimsuit he expected you to have…but he wasn’t disappointed in the least by what he saw.

“Are we matching again?” he mused, head tilting to the side, “Were we wearing couple’s outfits again? We really do make a cute pair!”

“Shut up!”

He laughed as you stood at the edge of the pool, staring down into the small waves and ripples he made.

“Just jump!” he urged, splashing water at your legs.

You gave a short cry and a laugh, but jumped in anyway. The temperature difference was initially shocking to your system, shivers racing all over your body, but it was most welcomed as you began to feel cooler already. You popped back up and brushed your curls out of your face, beaming excitedly at your companion. Where you both had jumped in, the pool was deep enough to come up to your shoulders, but not so deep that you couldn’t stand up comfortably. Seungcheol’s laugh echoed around you and you barely had time to get your bearings back before his hands, strong and firm, were gripping your hips, lifting you up, and tossing you back. You shrieked before splashing under, resurfacing immediately after and gaping at him.

“Seungcheol, you jerk! You’ll pay for that!” you shouted with a wide smile, splashing a wave of water in his direction and taking advantage of his temporary blindness to jump on him.

You pushed on his shoulders to dunk him, the both of you sinking low. He wiggled free and rose up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle to lift you and throw you back behind him. This horsing around went back and forth for a long time, your laughter bouncing off the four corners of the room. You eventually quieted down, opting to just float on your back to relax. You felt 10 times better, so much cooler; the sensation of melting now long gone. Seungcheol floated beside you, just as quiet and serene, his hand brushing against yours every now and then, but never clasping it like you wanted. Before long, you felt a shift in the water’s inertia and Seungcheol’s fingers tickling your stomach.

You giggled and curled up to avoid his assault, yelling at him to knock it off. Finding yourself close to the sloping stairs, you sat on the second step with Seungcheol at your side, goofy smile in place. He sat far too close than needed, his thigh almost flushed against yours, but you didn’t make any efforts to move away and neither did he. You just sat and looked at him.

“So…how did you manage to get a copy of Joshua’s key?” you asked him, your curious smile doing nothing to dispel how serious your question was.

He chuckled breathlessly and lifted a finger to curl your loose hair behind your ear, water still dripping from the ends of his own hair, trailing down his nose and cheeks. The soft gaze he fixed you with made you feel secure.

“He keeps them with his car and dorm keys,” he explained, shrugging, “I just asked to borrow his car yesterday, went and got a copy made, then returned the original to him.”

“Well, look at who’s a regular mastermind.” He beamed at your praise, even though you were obviously joking. “…You know we can’t do this again, Choi. There’s too much at stake if we get caught and Hong’s a good guy. I don’t want him to get in trouble.”

“Is he better than me?” You would have laughed his question off immediately had it not been for the sharpness in his eyes that gave you pause, the frown on his lips a little too real.

You managed a nervous chuckle, shaking off the butterflies and locking your eyes with his, “Oh yeah, definitely. He’s not crazy like you, that’s for sure. He would never make copies of a key he wasn’t supposed to have and break into the school’s pool for a late night swim.”

Seungcheol didn’t look the least bit guilty, curling his hand around your opposite thigh- the one not pressed against his- and pulling both legs to drape over his lap. He was really trying your resistance now, your cheeks flaring with fire.

“Joshua doesn’t have a girl in his life that makes him crazy,” he said, voice dropping into a deeper octave.

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you weren’t sure if the sudden stuttering of your heart was a positive sign…or possible heartbreak. “Oh? And you do?” you asked.

“Yes.” Your heart froze, teetering on the brink on shattering. His gaze never broke from yours, Seungcheol far too close for you to notice the pink staining his cheeks, “I have this girl who drives me mad. She’s insanely smart, hilarious, incredibly easy to get along with and so beautiful I can hardly believe it…in that order.”

“Oh. She sounds…amazing,” you whispered brokenly, believing the day had finally come where Seungcheol would find someone worth being in love with…and leave you behind.

“She is,” he confirmed as your eyes dropped to your knees.

“You should confess to her.”

“I am confessing to her.”

It took you a second to even register what he just said and long for you to actually look at him, his heavy gaze knocking the breath out of you. You were silent, your heart beating ridiculously loud in your ears and your cheeks burning a brand new shade of red you were certain he could see beneath your dark skin. Neither one of you said a word, Seungcheol waiting for your response and you waiting for this cruel joke to be over.

Finally, you forced a laugh and averted your eyes to the water, “You know what, Choi? This is really messed up. I know we flirt with each other and play around a lot, but this isn’t funny. You’re taking the joke too far.”

Rising up unsteadily, knees weak from hurt and embarrassment, you made to leave the pool. Seungcheol was faster, standing up so quick that water splashed loudly around him. An arm came around your waist to stop you, his hand cupping your cheek to tilt your head back and his lips sealing over yours. You were aware of Seungcheol and Seungcheol only, the heartbeat in your ears quieting down even though your heart itself was trying to break loose from your chest. You felt his lips moving fluidly against yours- as if he’s been doing this with you since the beginning of time- the lap of the pool water around your hips, his hand resting on the small of your back and the thumb of his other hand stroking your cheek.

“I don’t joke about my feelings, Y/N, and I never have. I’ve been flirting with you, seriously flirting with you, since the day we met. You’re the one who treated it like a joke.” You were almost embarrassed at being reprimanded; Seungcheol must’ve felt foolish and hurt every time you laughed off or dismissed his advances, but could he blame you?! It never once crossed your mind that he could have been serious with his flirting…but maybe that really was your fault for not believing you had just as much a chance as any other girl…maybe more so. He soothed you with a kiss to your cheek, silently telling you that it was alright, “Please believe me now, Y/N. I’m crazy about you.”

“You’re crazy about me?” you repeated, leaning into his palm.

“You drive me mad.”

“I drive you mad?”

“I love you.”

“You…” Pausing to swallow thickly while gazing at his gentle expression, “You love me?”

“I love you,” he said again, stroking your back, “And I want to kiss you again, but not before I know your answer. I need to know if you feel the same way or if I completely fucked our friendship up.”

You laughed breathlessly, the sinking feeling you were once suffering giving way to giddy butterflies. You prided yourself on knowing Seungcheol really well, on being able to read his expressions clearly when they didn’t pertain to you. Sincerity, honesty, and nervous desire- that’s what you saw on his face this time. Not a hint of malice or deceit.

He was telling the truth…he really wanted to be yours.

You slid your hands onto his shoulders, Seungcheol removing his own from your cheek to rest on your waist. Your smile was breathtakingly beautiful and he had to resist stealing a kiss regardless of your answer.

“How could I not have feelings for someone so willing to commit several crimes for me?” you responded softly, delighting in how tightly he held you, peppering kisses to your shoulder, “I never thought you would even notice me, Seungcheol.”

“You’re the only one I’ve ever noticed, Y/N,” he murmured, brushing his lips lightly over yours, “Say my name again?”

“Seungcheol?” A tingle raced up your spine when his giddy smile hit you.

“One more time?”

“Seungcheol.”

“Perfect. Always say my name, Y/N. Always call me and depend on me. I’m yours and I’ll take care of you…my queen.”

You didn’t need to reply. No more words needed to be exchanged. You were both finally on the same page and after all that time dancing around each other, hinting at feelings neither one of you were sure the other would acknowledge, you just wanted to savor and feel. Seungcheol slotted his lips to yours, kissing you deeply, groaning when your arms wrapped around his neck. You melted into him, falling into his taste, his scent, his touch.

You fell, and fell further, and fell further still until all that you knew was the taste of Seungcheol and the smell of chlorine all around you.

*~*~*~*~*

Another full month of sweltering heat passed and you were somehow able to survive it, though you weren’t melting any less. You were back under your favorite tree in between classes, the shade once more protecting you from the brunt of the sun’s rays. You were on your phone, as usual, mindlessly scrolling with a girlish grin on your face.

“My god, he never stops being hot,” you mumbled, lounging with your back pressed to the base of the tree.

“Who’s hot?” You looked up from your screen to see a very familiar man standing before you, his dark fringe curling in front of his eyes and intensifying the kicked-puppy look he was shooting you. “Who are you talking about?”

That question, that look, this whole situation brought with it an overwhelming sense of déjà vu, as did the next words out of your mouth.

“My future husband.” The answer came smoothly off your tongue, a mischievous grin on your lips as Seungcheol swung his bag down at the base of the tree and sat close beside you.

He scowled not-so-playfully and tossed a withering glare at you, “King Arthur again?”

You giggled, shaking your head, “Well, it is a king, but his name isn’t Arthur.”

You showed him your phone and the pout on his face immediately turned up into the brightest smile when his own picture stared back at him. His smile caused sunshine and rainbows to bloom in your chest as you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“You know you’re my only king, right?” you asked, snuggling into his side as he draped his arm around your shoulders; you didn’t even mind that his body heat was making you uncomfortably hot when you were trying to cool down.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple, the apple of your cheek, the corner of your nose. You giggled and squirmed, positively giddy at the affection he showered on you. After that night at the pool, since he no longer had to hide his true feelings about you, he didn’t hold back. He was all cuddles and kisses all the time. You basked in the attention, still teasing him from time to time, but otherwise just soaking it all up.

He took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing your fingers, “My queen only has classes today, right?”

You blushed at the title he so shamelessly referred to you by, second only to ‘girlfriend’. Nodding, you said, “All day, unfortunately. Last one ends at 7 PM.”

“My poor baby. How about I take you to dinner afterwards? You’re always starving after your night classes.”

“If you keep feeding me like this, I’m going to get fatter.”

“Then I’ll have more of you to love, won’t I?”

“Wow, look at all that cheese you just made! I can open my own shop now!”

Seungcheol retaliated to your teasing by locking his arm around your shoulders and tickling your sides mercilessly. You shrieked and tried to wiggle away, but he held you fast. You struggled for another minute until he finally let up and you found yourself straddling his lap. Flustered, your eyes shifted down to his chest shyly and you tried to move off of him, but he only tightened his hold on you.

“Seungcheol, c’mon. I’m heavy,” you implored, glancing around nervously for anyone that could be watching and possibly taking pictures of you two in such a scandalous position.

It was obvious he wasn’t bothered, his gaze meaningful and his eyes hooded. “Babe, I think you and I both know, from experience, that I’m more than capable of handling it,” he murmured, hands sliding down to cup your ass and tug you flush against him. You gasped, shoving his shoulder while feigning being scandalized.

“Clown,” you said in the face of his laughter, your expression melting into gentleness as he repositioned his hands on your hips and beckoned you down for a kiss.

He hummed against your lips and sighed once you broke awa. “I love you,” he whispered, breathless and loving.

You cupped his cheeks and responded in kind, “I love you, too.”

A few minutes passed, spent in cuddling and soft kisses, until you finally stood up and reached for your bag, “I have to get to class, Seungcheol. See you later?”

“I’ll walk you,” he offered, rising to his feet as well.

You narrowed your eyes at him and playfully punched his chest, “I don’t think so. Your class is at the same time on the other side of campus. I refuse to be the reason that you’re late.” Before he could argue, you leaned up and pecked his lips, “Go to class, babe. I’ll see you later.”

Albeit reluctantly, he bid you goodbye, your hand slipping from his hold. He watched you for a while, a dorky, love-sick smile adorning his handsome face. Even now, a month into your official relationship, he still couldn’t believe that you were his. Every day spent with you felt like a dream; every kiss a gift; every smile a blessing. He sighed happily and checked his phone. It was 3:45 PM; he had just over 3 hours before he could see you again, but he planned on texting you all throughout class until the time came. He knew it would drive you crazy to have him be so distracting, but he would gladly take it just to keep talking to you. Grinning to himself, he turned to walk in the opposite direction to his own class, already seeking your contact name and sending you a message.

‘I miss you already, babe.’

‘Oh my god! Let me at least get to class before you start doing this!’

[metamorpheus-blog1]

c h a r a c t e r + q u e s t i o n n a i r e

[ tw for: drug/alcohol use, death, mental illness ] 

Holy shit, why the fuck is this so long

BASICS

Full name: Marcus Christopher Russo

Any nicknames?: Morpheus, Mark, Marky, Russ, plus a slew of unflattering nicknames from old Army buddies that belong solely to that group of people. 

Age: 35 

Birthday/Zodiac sign: May 9th, 1982 // Taurus. Marcus has a majority of the typical Taurus traits: practical, dependable, down to earth. Regardless of his line of work, this isn’t a guy with a hair-trigger temper or the type to get his rocks off on on the violence in what he does, though he does have a very grim self awareness of just what kind of person he has to be to excel without apology at this job. That sense of strong commitment that keeps him nailed down to assignments with single-minded dedication tends to be a double-edged sword in the way it can overwhelm pretty much everything else and push it to the side in favor of finishing the task at hand. He’s the type that really needs and values internal stability in himself and others, which is BIG when it comes to why his lack of it is so self destructive. 

Height: 5′10. Taller guys, don’t talk shit.

Any tattoos, piercings?: 15 y/o Marcus had a bathroom + sewing needle variety of piercing in his left ear that has long since closed up and been forgotten. Cocky young recruit Marcus got the ‘onward to victory’ printed in neat stacked black script on his ribcage, right side, that he shares with three other recruits from his hometown (this phrase picked from several equally dramatic Big Damn Hero quotes they threw around, all freshly eighteen and very full of aspirations of being badasses), and under that, in ascending levels of freshness, are the month/year arrival and return dates for his three deployments. Deployment #1 has one small dot beside it, #3 has two, tallying those in his squadron ‘fallen in line of duty’, as much as he hates that term. There’s no ‘falling’ involved in an IED on the side of the road blasting you straight to hell but - ! Marcus’ bitterness internalized again, we move on to, of course, this classic number on his left forearm. 

FAVORITES

Sound: He likes NYC’s urban flavor of white noise. Anything repetitive without harshness to it: wind chimes, a clock ticking, steady rain. Back when he used to live on the coast in South Carolina, Marcus went in for all those soothing beach sounds, but the bustle on the city streets has its own charm against waves and seagulls. 

Color: Marcus lives in washed out colors, closer to neutrals, with a side of beige and olive green. Even his black is a little less harsh, like a t shirt that’s still being worn years after it’s faded and started collecting holes. His mind is all vibrant orange though, that Mad Max sandstorm orange, Norah’s orange when he thinks of her every time he peels a tangerine, that kind of desert orange that’s still stuck on him after all these years -- even if in the scope of his service, six years in the real world isn’t very long at all. 

Person: He won’t forgive himself if he says Artemis. That’s too much responsibility to put on her shoulders. So maybe not favorite, but most important? That’s pretty hefty too. Whatever it is, Sunny’s calming influence on this guy can’t be overstated. 

Memory: BCT, or basic training. Now listen, a lot of basic is really really shitty. Shitty food, shitty schedule, shitty exercise, the same shitty drills over and over and over every day. You get tear gassed in basic training. You sweat harder than you’ve ever sweat in your life and you go to bed at night absolutely exhausted. But BCT was the first time Marcus actually saw his future falling into place in a way he could be proud of, when he started to figure out his strengths and advance, and where he found people he could relate to and build friendships with. Really, with that in mind, he’d happily take the shitty food again. 

Place: Lmfao his apartment, messy as he and it are on the inside. Always good to have a good secure place to come back to. Weirdly enough though, he is also pretty comfortable with/fond of the Westside Dock, just because of the sheer amount of time he spends camped out there supervising deals from a distance just in case anything goes wrong. Zeus would’ve kept him parked plenty busy on his main trade, but Hades spreads Marcus over more varied tasks, which is what’s led to his familiarity with every boat, rooftop, and shipping container in that yard. He used to frequent the Warehouse with weekly regularity for the good live music, but understandably some work disagreements have rendered that a no-go zone.

Vice: He’s got the holy trio of Drugs, Booze, and Cigarettes going on, but in light of Madi’s favorite vice mini-meme I’m going to go with his complete lack of any sort of positive coping mechanisms or drive to start trying to develop them. Marcus’ constant self-reassurance is ‘it could be so much worse stop being a whiny bitch’, even the very middle of a panic attack, so shout out to that toxic suck-it-up type of masculinity the Army cultivates along with an unhealthy dose of ‘mental illness isn’t that extreme’ mentality. Keep tellin yourself that, bud.

HAVE THEY EVER…

Been in love?: Yes, in both the high school puppy variety and his one experience in slow-burning, real n’ deep adult love. 

Done drugs?: Oh yeah, and a pretty big variety. Marcus’ hard limit is anything requiring a needle, he knows just how easy it is to fall headlong into addiction with something that potent. Most of his heaviest various drug use was high school and right after his discharge, but he’s settled into a routine of pot whenever the opportunity shows itself and the rare bump of cocaine when he really really needs it. The latter tends to allow him to get what he needs done done, but it understandably sends his mental state straight to shit in the fallout, not to mention it’s an expensive for a picker-upper.  Cocaine is down as something that happens a handful of times a year, maybe. Doing a line is, in his mind, a lot less extreme than shooting something up straight to your veins. Marky’s pretty willfully blind to the fact that something you snort can be just as addictive as something you inject. 

Killed someone?: 

Marcus isn’t really keeping track of that number anymore. There’s a lot of the emotional part of his psyche that gets turned off for this process -- it’s not a person, it’s not murder, it’s a mission, you get it done clean and fast and you get out. Never think of a mark as an individual, complex human being. You’re screwed the second you do.

Betrayed someone’s trust?: Not on the scale of large deceptions. Eurydice might just count, positive and unsuspecting enough as their interactions were before Cronus’ order came down and Marcus had a hit to carry out. But, he reasons, it is the mob. Their definition of trust stands on shaky ground. And thinking that, it’s hard for him to resist the urge to just laugh at how malformed his morality has gotten these past few years.

Had their heart broken?: I mean, yeah, but he did it his damn self and he still thinks it was the right thing. Ending the engagement would never hurt as much as going through with it and waking up twenty years down the road, miserably unhappy. Norah is the closest he’s ever gotten to feeling truly understood but shackling her to his troubled ass would only bog her down and foster a resent towards him he could honestly never hypothetically blame her for feeling. We’ll call it heart break in the name of the greater good. 

Lost someone?: Everyone in the combat zone has a story about losing someone, but Marcus never felt his squad buddies were so close to him he had that kind of ownership over their lives to say they were someone he’d ‘lost’. No close family members dead either, Norah might be something closer to loss if their split hadn’t been his choice. So no, there’s no one he’s mourning, just some still strangely vacant spaces in his mental roster and more than enough persistent ghosts left in his memories.

DO THEY…

Have any pets?: Nope, though he is very firmly a dog person.

Have a family they still talk to?: Yes, but he’s not overly fond of doing it, #1 Son of the Year. Maria and Randy are still firmly parked in Newburgh and it’s honestly just depressing to him to call home and visualize them sitting in the same shitty house on the same shitty couch living the same aimless repetitive lives. 

Have a best friend?: It’s tempting to say Artemis again, real tempting in the kneejerk way, but he’s got way too much insecurity around their relationship and how much pressure his problems can put on a person once they’re close enough to know about them to weigh her down with best friend, if that’s even the phrase for what their relationship is. He’s not about to try and compete with the likes of Apollo and Dionysus either, not when he knows how much they both mean to her. 

Want to get married and/or have kids?: Oh boy. Well, there’s a difference between wanting it and actually pursuing it. Marcus is of the give-your-kids-a-better-life-than-you mentality and he doesn’t think he could do that now that he’s pretty deep in an illegal lifestyle. As for marriage, we all know about his track record with that. 

Want to leave?: He might, if he had any idea of where else he could go without immediately falling into the mental Pit of Despair. NYC has pretty much everything keeping him somewhat together. 

THIS OR THAT?

CALL OR TEXT; texting is convenient but there’s too much in tone and word choice left up for interpretation and it can turn into a liability when he’s got time-sensitive information he needs to know. Marcus almost always calls, especially if it’s about a job; texting is for sharing contact information or an address, or more casual ‘off-duty’ plans.

WEALTH OR LOYALTY; loyalty wins out, but just barely. Wealth is mighty tempting to someone who’s never had it, but at the same time, he’s never had it. When it comes down to choosing one or the other, wealth is the one he’s most capable of living without (no matter how sweet it would be to have). There’s the added fact that genuine excessive wealth makes him almost uncomfortable?? There’s the conspicuous feeling off a sign taped to his back that tells more bougie people ‘this man considers Kraft the superior kind of cheese’ and that’s not gonna change if he suddenly pulls the winning lotto ticket at the minimart below his apartment. 

LOVE OR LUST; not that Marcus is some heartbroken cynic cruising bars every night, but lust is easy and manageable and the occasional one night stand gets lost in the big city without any of those pesky loose ends; it’s been six years and the soreness of parting ways with Norah isn’t so fresh he feels her absence like he did first time he went home with a girl in NYC. He’s not about to entertain any fantasies of romance. The pool of people with shared life experience, or at least similar enough experiences to understand, is... small, to say the least. Why rope some poor unsuspecting soul into his personal whirlpool of bullshit? 

5 FRIENDS OR 100 ACQUAINTANCES; that’s a lot closer to his situation now, Marcus doesn’t tend to accumulate close friends, or at least semi-purposefully he doesn’t. He’s good at that kind of (surprisingly) pleasant, simple interaction that tends to fix a version of himself in people’s minds that doesn’t invite further speculation or questions (though if you ask, he’ll nine times out of ten be an open book). What you see with Mark is what you get, unless you stumble into or purposefully try for something deeper. 

SUMMER OR WINTER; you’d think summer, considering Marcus’ open air approach to his apartment (though that’s more of a claustrophobia thing than anything else), but he finds winter a lot more manageable and he’s had more than enough time in the Middle East to properly enjoy heat, even though going outside when it’s warm and he isn’t wearing 60 pounds of gear is a little treasure in itself. People are easier to track during winter too, their patterns are more predictable, there’s less roaming outside when it’s fuckin cold. 

OTHERS:

Wanted plots/connections: will be linked soon!

[jetfuel-cantmeltsteelbeams]

“West World?”

Timeline: New Court 

Location: Ashlae Summer’s rooms inside the Drigulian Castle

Characters: Arik Avalon, Ashlae Summers, Jaxon Mile 

Song Used: None

Summary: Arik checks in on Ashlae, finding a putrid smell and more hardware than he’d delivered. 

Arik Avalon walked with his hands resting in his pockets. The directions Jake had given him had been complex, the pack leader even confusing himself at times, but really- it had just been a formality. Arik knew the layout of the kingdom as well as he knew the breakdown of his own computer system back at home. Some areas were dark to him, but they were few and far between.

He whistled as he made his way down the thin hallway, knowing exactly how he appeared to the hired help. His jeans were faded and worn down to the threads, though his dressy button down screamed wealth. The gadgets he wore were a startling contradiction to his permanent five o’clock shadow and messy salt and pepper colored hair. There were lines on his face, but his skin was healthy as it was dark from the sun.

He’d just finished whistling on the final note of the Song of Exile when his hand reached for the handle and turned it.

“Holy shit, Rave.”

Ashlae didn’t turn from where she sat at the desk against the far wall, her face uptilted to the five stacked monitors that constantly bled information in the traditional black and green. The room was dark, but everywhere there was a monitor, light poured in just enough for him to see what an utter disaster the room was.

Her desk was pushed against the far left corner, with motors and routers and the Gods knew what else mounted flat against the walls in a maze of wires. To the right corner was a bed under multiple piles of blankets, another monitor mounted so that it hovered over. In the middle of the room sat some sofas and chairs surrounding a coffee table that’s surface reflected a computer with loaded apps.

From where he stood, he could see into the open bath chamber to the right. The entire wall mirror looked like a reflective monitor itself, with marker remains of a half-finished formula hovering mid air.

And in the remaining corner of the room, a literal pile of junk sat piled high as his waist. It all looked like scrap metal and motherboards; the kind even he had trouble getting his hands on.

But it was the smell that hit him hardest. Covering his mouth and nose with a hand, Arik stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. “When was the last time you took a fucking shower?”

Ashlae rose slowly, her eyes never leaving the monitors, as she unfurled from the chair. Her curls had been tied back into a greasy bun, the fly aways matted down with natural oils and a headband he knew must include some new tech gadget she’d incorporated into the design. Her pants were baggy materials- what might have been white sweats once- and held stains of every color on the lap. Her shirt sported an old X-Men logo from the early 2000’s, but it was too dark to really make it out.

Finally, she peeled her eyes off the screens, but he could tell she was having trouble focusing on something that wasn’t back-lit. “Merlin?”

“Come to make real magic happen,” he answered in a choked cough. “This is really disgusting, Ash. You need a bath.” And bleach, but he kept that note to himself. “And where’d you get all of this from, anyway?” She’d only sent him requests for the type of hardware only he could provide, but nothing as big as multiple monitors and full tech gear.

“Jaxon gave me his black card.”

“Did he also show you how to work the shower? Or is that beyond your skill set?” Keeping a healthy distance away, lest the smell overpower him, Arik used both arms to show her the open door to the right. “In your go, before this room is condemned with you still in it.”

Without a fight, she led the way into the bath. Arik followed, stretching his hand as far as he could for her to set her non-waterproof tech in his palm. Both earpieces, the bands around her ankles and wrists, the health patch on her neck and hip.

As she stripped, he rummaged around in the other room for wipes to safely clean the grime off of her gear. “Would you like to catch me up to speed on what exactly it was that kept you from obeying the natural law of hygiene?” As his hands worked to wipe away what looked like days of dirt and grime, he explored and probed around the mess she’d lived in for weeks. With the toe of his boot, he lifted a piece of scrap metal to find what looked like a poorly rendered mechanical spine lying beside the mechanical rendering of a human skull.

He’d always known the caramel goddess had a morbid side, but this was a bit much even for her.

From the next room, he heard the shower turn on. Over the sound of falling water, she shouted her reply. “There’s cats everywhere. Big cats. Like lions.”

Moving to stand by the door, he was careful to keep his eyes averted from the see-through shower curtain while they talked. “Sounds like home to me,” he mumbled to himself as he grinned down at his task.

“There’s angels too,” she continued, “-with wings. Big wings.” In his peripheral, he saw her bend down to pick up a large bottle of what he hoped to be bleach. “I’ve written them into the database for years, Arik. I just… never saw one in person.”

In what he hoped to be a casual tone, he replied, “You’ve known me for years.”

He didn’t have time to duck the bar of soap that came flying from behind the curtain. “Yeah- and thanks for that. I had to find out from Jaxon Mile that you’re one of them.”

Setting the cleaned gear on the counter, Arik picked up the soap and lightly tossed it back over the lip of the curtain without focusing too much on the details of her naked body. “Does that change anything? Are you any less in love with me than you were a few months ago?”

Her scoff sent him into a bout of low chuckles. “If you keep saying shit like that, people are going to think I’m unavailable.”

“Oh, now. That hurt.”

She drew the curtain back to look at him. It was a true test of will to keep his eyes locked on hers. “Can you do it?”

“I can do it very well, from what my partners have told me.”

Her colorless eyes rolled- though he knew there was color in them, if you looked hard enough. The lightest hazel he’d ever seen in the irises of a woman. “Can you shift into… into-”

Leveling his eyes, Arik lowered his chin just a fraction of an inch. “Do you want to see?”

He could see her throat bob as she swallowed, then finally gave the tiniest of nods.

Arik waited until the tension between them built before letting his lips turn up in a feline grin. “Sucks to suck, doesn’t it? I don’t shift without a damn good reason away from my alpha. Those are the rules.”

“Convenient.”

“Disappointed?”

“With you? Always.” She returned the shower curtain as she ducked again under the water.

“Hey- what are you working on in that corner? Are you going West World on me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“The sexy kind of surprise? Are you making a sex robot? I’m only a call away, you know. I can upload my data into your software anytime, with only a few strokes of my hard drive-”

“This is why I hate men. You’re all pigs.”

“Oink oink.”

[wheres-the-bear]

Hello, It’s Me (100 Questions)

These were fun! If you’re new, hi. My name is Ashley, and I hope you can learn something about me :)

1: When you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? I usually have more milk than cereal. 2: Do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Depends on how cold the air is and strong the breeze. lol 3: What random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Receipts, movie tickets, slivers of notes. 4: How do you take your coffee/tea? Coffee: cream & sugar. Tea: Agave & a little bit of cream. 5: Are you self-conscious of your smile? Nope :) 6: Do you keep plants? Yes. 7: Do you name your plants? No. 8: What artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Usually writing. Sometimes drawing or painting. 9: Do you like singing/humming to yourself? Yes. 10: Do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? I sleep on my sides. 11: What's an inner joke you have with your friends? Oh my, so many! 12: What's your favorite planet? Always loved Neptune & Uranus because of their colors. Be mature. 13: What's something that made you smile today? Being an absolute loon to try to get my husband to smile. 14: If you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Oh my gosh - modern, light and airy, with lots of plants and contrasting elements. 15: Go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! Most of the book The Martian is accurate. 16: What's your favorite pasta dish? A Stanley Tucci recipe with homemade sauce, tomatoes, and basil. 17: What color do you really want to dye your hair? I’ve always wanted a lighter, warmer blonde or, on the extreme end, teal. 18: Tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. I tripped over a ropes course wire in 8th grade and f*cked up my knee. Ever since then, it’s been a running joke that something so simple caused such catastrophic damage. 19: Do you keep a journal? What do you write/draw/ in it? I keep a mental health BuJo, and I loveee it for keeping track of my habits and thoughts. 20: What's your favorite eye color? I really love dark, chocolate brown eyes. But I am appreciative of all eye colors. 21: Talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. My plaid North Face backpack my mom got me right before college. I’ve taken it out of the country, it’s sat in libraries with me as I’ve studied and wrote. I love that thing. 22: Are you a morning person? Yes. 23: What's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Watch TV and movies, eat junk food, stay in sweatpants. Preferably staying in bed for a while. 24: Is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? Of course. My husband. 25: What's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? I can’t say I’ve ever broken into anything or anywhere. 26: What are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? Black flats from Payless Shoes. 27: What's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Spearmint or Winter Mint from Orbit. 28: Sunrise or sunset? Sunrises inspire me more, for sure. 29: What's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? Any time they laugh and can’t stop, I think it is the absolute greatest thing. 30: Think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Of course. Every near car accident or actual accident, I’ve gotten terrified. 31: What is your opinion of socks? Do you like wearing weird socks? Do you sleep with socks? Do you confine yourself to white sock hell? Really, just talk about socks. My husband collects socks, so I enjoy finding fun pairs for him. I’m a simple, short black sock kind of person with the occasional unique fuzzy sock on cold winter days. 32: Tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Nothing crazy. But some of my most meaningful conversations have happened in those early morning hours. 33: What's your fave pastry? I have a huge sweet tooth, so I can’t even claim a favorite. 34: Tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. What is it called? What does it look like? Do you still keep it? I had a lot of stuffed animals as a kid. To be honest, I couldn’t tell you what I used to call them. My favorite was a stuffed giraffe though. 35: Do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? Do you use them often? Yes and yes! In my bullet journal. 36: Which band's sound would fit your mood right now? John Mayer, Where the Light Is to be honest. 37: Do you like keeping your room messy or clean? Clean! But most of the time, it’s messy. 38: Tell us about your pet peeves! Loud chewers. Dripping faucets. People who are terrible drivers (no blinkers, aggressive and irresponsible, etc.). Egos.  39: What color do you wear the most? Jewel tones - emerald, royal purple. 40: Think of a piece of jewelry you own: What's it's story? Does it have any meaning to you? My wedding band and engagement ring are probably my two most prized pieces of jewelry, followed by a pair of diamond earrings my late grandmother gave me when I graduated from college. 41: What's the last book you remember really, really loving? The Kite Runner was the first one that came to mind, but that wasn’t the last book. 42: Do you have a favorite coffee shop? Describe it! Rooster Moon, by my house. It’s a little hipster establishment with cute decor, indie music, and great coffee! 43: Who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? My husband, I believe. Probably on our honeymoon? 44: When was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Thankfully, I have those moments often. Last weekend, over MLK, was probably the last time. 45: Do you trust your instincts a lot? I try to, yes. 46: Tell us the worst pun you can think of. “I put my grandma on speed dial. I call that Instagram.” -_____- 47: What food do you think should be banned from the universe? Canned asparagus. 48: What was your biggest fear as a kid? Is it the same today? Spiders, or wet, loose hair. Both are still pretty terrifying. 49: Do you like buying CDs and records? What was the last one you bought? I like buying CDs, but I don’t do it very often. The last CDs I purchased were Beyonce’s Lemonade and Chris Stapleton’s Traveler.  50: What's an odd thing you collect? Shark teeth? I don’t really collect anything anymore. 51: Think of a person. What song do you associate with them? My husband, and I think of “Kings and Queens” by 30 Seconds to Mars. 52: What are your favorite memes of the year so far? I haven’t seen many? 53: Have you ever watched the Rocky Horror Picture Show? Heathers? Beetlejuice? Pulp fiction? What do you think of them? I’ve only seen Beetlejuice and it was a long time ago. I remember thinking it was weird. 54: Who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? My hubby - he was in an accident recently and his beloved truck was rendered totaled. 55: What's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? Did my research!  56: What are some things you find endearing in people? Little actions that require observation. 57: Go listen to Bohemian Rhapsody. How did it make you feel? Did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? Of course. My cousin and I used to sing a scream-o version of it, and it cracks me up thinking about it every time. 58: Who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? Why? Britney is the wine mom and I’m probably the Vodka Aunt. Or Alissa is the Vodka Aunt. 59: What's your favorite myth? Nessie the Loch Ness Monster. 60: Do you like poetry? What are some of your faves? All-time fave has always been “The Kiss” by Sarah Teasdale. 61: What's the stupidest gift you've ever given? The stupidest one you've ever received? I can’t say I’ve ever given or received a gag gift. 62: Do you drink juice in the morning? Which kind? Not usually, but if I do, it’s Apple Juice. 63: Are you fussy about your books and music? Do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? I leave them be. 64: What color is the sky where you are right now? It’s a lovely dark blue. 65: Is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? Anyone from college, tbh. 66: What would your ideal flower crown look like? Oh my, cafe au lait dahlias with some poppies for color! <3 67: How do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? When they’re few and far between, inspired. 68: What's winter like where you live? So far, very mild. Lots of rain. We normally have a few big snowstorms though. 69: What are your favorite board games? Apples to Apples, Phase 10, and Uno. 70: Have you ever used a ouija board? Nope. 71: What's your favorite kind of tea? Lady Grey or Earl Grey. 72: Are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? Yes, absolutely. 73: What are some of your worst habits? I crack my knuckles. It drives my boss crazy. 74: Describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. They are super caring, in tune with God, would give anything for those they’re close to. I admire them and their family so much for their resilience and strength. 75: Tell us about your pets! I have a cat. Her name is Bagheera - she is a black and brown striped tabby. And she’s a big meanie. Unfortunately /: Nice to me, not to other people. 76: Is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? I should be taking a shower. 77: Pink or yellow lemonade? Classic yellow :) 78: Are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? I like them. I’m not really passionate about loving or hating them. 79: What's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? Definitely any surprise trip or flowers, a phone call with a serenade, a random trip to watch stars. 80: What color are your bedroom walls? Did you choose that color? If so, why? They are eggshell or ivory. I didn’t choose them -- we just haven’t painted them since we’ve moved into our house. 81: Describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. The water of Magen’s Bay in St. Thomas. 82: Are/were you good in school? I was alright, more on the “good” side, I guess.  83: What's some of your favorite album art? The Chainsmokers’ singles lately have been on. point. 84: Are you planning on getting tattoos? Which ones? I can never commit to any, so I doubt I’ll ever get one. 85: Do you read comics? What are your faves? The last time I read/bought a comic was when Captain America: Civil War came out. Before that, hardly EVER. It was all about Get Fuzzy in elementary/high school. 86: Do you like concept albums? Which ones? I don’t even know what they are, tbh. lol 87: What are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Into the Wild and The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. 88: Are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? Whatever movement Albert Bierstadt was a part of. 89: Are you close to your parents? To my mom, yes. 90: Talk about your one of you favorite cities. I love London. I love how it feels, the energy, the history, the elegance and architecture, the tradition. I love it. 91: Where do you plan on traveling this year? Nowhere special. Maybe the Outer Banks for a long weekend?  92: Are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? Barely sprinkles. I like the sauce better :) 93: What's the hairstyle you wear the most? Either air-dry or up in a pony tail. 94: Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My uncle, whose birthday was Feb. 19. But my stepdad’s is on March 3 and my mom’s is on March 9. 95: What are your plans for this weekend? Sleep, church, movies. Pizza. lol 96: Do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? I usually procrastinate. Lame. 97: Myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? Myer Briggs is INFJ/ENFJ. Zodiac: Cancer. Hogwarts House: Ravenclaw. 98: When's the last time you went hiking? Did you enjoy it? Oh my. It’s been a while, but yes. I thoroughly enjoyed it. 99: List some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. “Wonderland” by Taylor Swift. “Halocene” by Bon Iver. “Blinding” by Jakwob. “Feel So Close” by Calvin Harris. 100: If you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? Why? Definitely 5 years into the past because I would have done things so much differently as a teacher. I would have been more open to ALL of my students and taken advantage of the time I had to get to know as many of them as possible instead of just a small few. The future should be unknown - I’m excited about that.