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sleep-0-deprived · 12 days ago

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Sirens touch~! (Kyle Garrick x male siren reader) 𓊝

WC:.2.1K

Tags: pwlp, anal sex, sex on a boat, monster x human, pheromones used as drugs, fish anatomy mentioned, bottom male reader, seduction themes, siren songs, handjobs, neck biting, blood mentioned 𓇼

A/N: this one is for @creepy141dollie hope Y’ like it, forgive if M’ descriptions of sirens are inaccurate, this was jus my thought process <33

Taglist: @kimisbunny @asher-is-hotxp @silvern1006 @unstab1eperson2 @yyuinaa @dewday1 @blond3ang3l @creepy141dollie @m4r13ll @ihavezeropancreas @sooobiinn @just-ignore-them @fuckingmxonlight @nightwinglover101 @chasingknives @littlelilithsposts

𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟𓆝𓆟𓆝

The air was fogged over and cold- rigidly so, you could almost taste the salt in the air when you breathed in the mist. Kyle wasn’t happy about this in the slightest, the moment price caught wind of makarov supposedly hiding somewhere across the sea, he had the whole task force on a ship on the ocean waters, that included Gaz too. Gaz walked around on the deck, he’d peek his head over the rails and stare into the nearly black abyss of water— god he could only imagine how cold that water must’ve been.

His eyes slowly widen when he sees something beneath the sheets of liquid, it was probably just a dumb fish swimming around. Garrick wasn’t made for the waters nor did he like them, sea sick was the only thing he ever got from it�� and was that a person laying on that rock?…oh god the sea must be getting to him.

“I don’t see how sailors manage”

Gaz diverts his gaze to the passing soap, walking by and across the ship watching the other end- like what he was supposed to be doing but something felt off he couldn’t explain it, it all felt weird like bugs churning around in his stomach. He’d just cut it down to the waves giving him motion sickness.

“Are you gonna make it there gaz?”

He nearly jumps when ghost sneaks up on him standing behind him with his mask on letting his gaze pierce through the other male.

“You shouldn’t be so damn quiet- you’re gonna give someone a heart attack these days”

“Relax, I was just gonna ask if ye wanted to swap tasks- ye go to the lower deck N’ keep an eye out”

The man’s British accent creeping through his words only making Gaz sigh and nod, making his way down to the empty deck, his body felt a reaction the closer he got to the waters almost like something compelling him forwards. When the rock he had seen earlier came into view he could’ve sworn he saw a man with H/C hair laying there with a deep blue webbed ear. Before he knew it he felt his chest ache at that sight- why did he feel so much need over a man that probably was a figment of his lonesome imagination.

He leans against the rails, blinking once and frowning when he sees nothing on the rock, he almost feels sadness as the disappearance but before he can mourns it a hand is placed up on the ship from the loading area a few feet from him.

“Who’s there?!”

His voice rings empty in the fog, you slip your way up onto the deck while laying sprawled with a little grin. Tilting your head over almost like a curious cat— you weren’t used to not having your tail but you’d make having legs work. Gaz was practically lovestruck standing in his military gear and yet he felt just as defenseless as a common man before a gun.

“Aren’t you just a mean one?”

Your voice was angelic and he knew that you knew that, the way you slithered up on the deck like some serpent ready for its mean had him in a state of pure lust looking at you— Gaz was a weak man and the years of solitude without touch only made him weaker. Your prime prey, you liked a sweet man who was good at heart but had desperation— you could feed off the lust in his eyes alone.

Gaz started approaching you almost in a trance but you haven’t even used your song on him yet, this was pure free will.

“What the hell are you— a damn talking fish?”

“I’m not a damn fish— I’ll have you know I’m a siren”

You hiss your words at him growing irritated with it all, reaching your hand out to grasp hold of the man and pull him down with you having him beneath you on the deck. your body nude and cold from the see, your cock pressed flat down on your thighs while you click your tongue slowly tracing your cold fingers over his skin, humming your own siren song.

“Fuck, what the hell are you doing”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me, everyone wants me.”

Your hands grip his shoulders speaking statements not questions, your cock was stiffening up when his bulge pressed to your plush cheeks almost giving it a friendly greeting making you push back down against his clothed member, Gaz’s hands roam down grabbing your hips instinctively gripping at the flesh with vigor while he stares up at you in a glossy eyed trance watching how your hands slid off his shoulder down his vest and to his cargo pants, pulling them down with a thud when you undo his tack belt letting it fall on the deck.

Your nails were sharp and pointed leaving chills on his thighs when your nails graze over the tip of his cock having it all wet and coated in pre cum when you finally get it out of his boxers. Your eyes narrow slightly glowing under the dim fog of the late noon sky, the ship rocking back and forth against the waves having Gaz feeling completely under your spell when you hum against his ear and press your lips to the side of his neck.

“God you’re…”

He wanted to say so many things in that moment but his lips quivered and stopped, all men acted that way— you couldn’t count the number of sailors who uttered those exact words to you. Gaz felt different you didn’t want to lure him into a seductive demise, you actually wanted him all for yourself.

“I already knoww~”

you hush him silently with your lips pressed to his Adam’s apple rubbing your sharp teeth to the flesh feeling tempted to just take a bite out of him. Your hand plays with his cock stroking the base and rubbing your thumb flush against the under side of his tip, right where you knew it was most sensitive.

“O-h fuck you’re good at this”

Kyle’s moan comes out strangled like a half laugh when he takes a gulp for the first time in his military years feeling nervous by something that looks so frail, your skin practically glowed sticky from the salt in the sea having your damp body in his lap feeing your bare ass on his thighs making his half lidded eyes just stare at it, he only looks away when he feels the sharp pain in his neck— you just bit him?

“Mhm, you just taste good enough to eat”

“Oh fuuck”

His groan just make you smile having his blood over your teeth like a fresh candy coating making your slit pupils dilate, licking up the blood off his neck leaving him with the mark of a siren when you aim his cock between your wet cheeks, grinning at his expression when his eyes clamp shut from the cold feel of your skin pressing to his manhood. You rock your hips back and forth letting go of his cock and reaching up to his jaw and gripping it tight while you lay hunched over him pressing your bitter and blue lips to his mouth kissing him- making him taste his blood off your tongue while he lays on his back on the deck.

“You want this so bad don’t you?”

“…yes…”

He mumbles mindlessly under you just staring you blankly in the eyes, his lips sloppily responding to yours with your cock standing barely stiff leaning a small pearl of pre cum with your blue webbed ears looking almost like a fin when they flick back and forth in satisfaction. His cock head rubbing between your cheeks and all up and down your crack rubbing against your twitchy ring of muscles.

“Tell me you want inside me- tell me now”

“…I want you, I wanna be inside you so bad”

Your mouth nibbles at his neck some more littering it in red marks having blood smears on his skin while his hips buck up under you making you let go of his jaw when he hisses from how your nails dug into his skin. Gaz presses into you slowly pushing his way inside of your vice, being a siren producing pheromones and natural lubricant around your rim, your holes weee designed to take— you were a being of lust- a Adonis of sex in every way but the name.

“Fuckin, please-“

If it wasn’t for how desperate Gaz was in this moment he may have passed out of humiliation, he hated the way his voice cracked when he begged for you sitting desperate with his cock half inside you prodding its way into the bunny tavern trying to spread and spear you open on his dick, you sit in his lap having your mouth latched on his feeling his moans muffled by your tongue when you bite on his bottom lip leaving little drops of blood mixing into the shared spit.

“Think you may be the biggest man I’ve taken in a very long time sailor”

You lift your hips up and slowly lower them back down on him while you let your hand find its way to his shoulders digging your nails through his gear and clawing a hole in the back of his shirt leaving marks on his rich skin. Your rim milks out the pre cum from his mushroomed head having his hands trembling on your hips while he pushes his spit down your throat.

“I’m not a damn sailor— I’m a captain”

His words come out strangled beneath you when he pulls his lips, tearing them away only to gasp for air. Your nails dig harder letting out soft moans when his cock rubs your prostate just right making you feel warm shrills up your spine having you feeling in a state of euphoria when you ride the man.

Your eyes creep back and you grow slicker around his cock taking it with ease, Gaz lets out heaved gasps beneath you. Not having fucked anything in a few solid years due to his job, his orgasm is on edge but he does his best to hold back not wanting to come too quick but boy if your insides weren’t practically begging it out of him right now.

“Stop or I’ll—“

Before he can even finish his sentence your hand creeps up off his back and over his mouth hushing his groans when you feel his cock start pulsing inside you reaching his high and flooding your insides with his semen leaving a warm feeling inside your ice cold body.

“Now you’re gonna be good and help me get off right?”

“Y-yes ofcourse”

He nods his head when you hum your song to him not even giving him time to come down from his orgasm when you remove your hand off his mouth and reach to the hand off your hips when you guid it down to your hardened cock, letting out a hiss when he touches the base. Gaz slowly starts stroking your cock and giving it a firm touches under your tip.

He starts stroking your cock a little faster gripping the base with your cock leaking a mess in his palm having you instinctively pushing your hips back down on his cock with the semen inside

“I’m getting close”

Gaz starts stroking your cock faster making you arch your back getting closer to edge with his hand snaking off your hips to your ass giving it a squeeze in time with his strokes. Pre cum starts oozing drink you all down your shaft making a mess when your voice cracks and your orgasm rushes over you, you grip his shoulders tight with your

“Oh fuck—“

“What is it fishy? You’re actin like this is your first orgasm”

You sneer down at him frowning when he says that, ropes of thin liquid shoots from your tip leaving stains on his gear. Your chest raises and falls rapidly practically glowing with your eyes rolling forwards to look down at him under you, sitting on top of him on the ship, you slowly raise up off of Gaz, semen starts oozing out of you and onto the ships deck, your rim twitches all puffy.

Before Garrick could even say anything to you, you were gone. The water flashed and it was like you were an imagination? Your figure lurked under the water then disappeared into the fog, sirens were never known to stick to one prey forever.

“Gaz? Mate what’re you doin?!”

There stood a flabbergasted soap, his mouth agape standing next to price with their eyes focused on a ruin captain kyle Garrick ‘Gaz’ laying covered in come with his pants around his ankles laying on his back, his cock limp and his eyes lidded clearly worn out.

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flwrstqr · 11 months ago

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— loving mornings

₊˚⊹ notes ~ husband!jayx fem!reader ⋆⭒ warnings: kisses, kids ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 word count: 300+꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ genre: fluff, drabble | AN: literally jay is the definition of a husband and dad material + going through a baby fever (also inspo from an au i read but i forgot which au it was so >: ) | LIBRARY FOR MORE...

"THERE YOU ARE, BABY," you heard Jay's voice, causing you to turn around and find him grinning at you while you organized plates in the kitchen. You couldn't help but smile back as you walked towards him, abandoning your task to hug him tightly.

"I missed you so much, and the kids," you whispered against his neck as Jay gently stroked your hair.

"I missed you too. How was spending time with your parents?" he asked, pulling away to look at your face.

"It was fine. How about you and the kids?" you inquired as Jay tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It went well. The kids were sobbing for you every night because they missed you so much," Jay replied, eliciting a soft laugh from you. "But I'm glad you're back." He left a soft kiss on your forehead and then trailed down to your jawline, leaving quick kisses that made you squeal with ticklish delight.

You pressed your forehead against Jay's and whispered, "I love you so much. I don't know how I'll survive without you."

"I love you even more," Jay whispered back, leaving a final kiss on your neck. Just then, the sound of your kids running down the stairs filled the air.

"Mommy!" your daughter Aila exclaimed, and you quickly hugged her tightly, kissing her cheek. You then turned to your son, Asher, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek.

"I missed you both so much," you whispered, hugging them tightly.

"Did you guys sleep well last night?" Jay asked, brushing through Aila's hair.

"Safe and sound!" Aila exclaimed.

"When did you learn that phrase?" you asked, holding Asher in your arms.

"From Daddy!" Aila's response made you laugh.

"Right, of course, from your daddy," you said, massaging Aila's hand softly. Turning to Asher, you cooed, "How about you, Asher? Did you sleep well?" He nodded, hiding his head in the crook of your neck.

"That's good. How about all of us have a fun family night tonight?" you suggested, causing Aila to jump up and down with excitement, quickly agreeing. As your kids ran upstairs to play, you laughed at their cuteness.

"I guess that's our cue to rest together," you smiled, holding onto Jay's hand softly.

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leqonsluv3r · 11 months ago

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heyy could you do some hcs abt re4 leon having a crush or dating a dso secretary? love your wirting sm <33

boss!re4 leon kennedy

—re4 leon!kennedy x dso!secretary reader, a headcanon list

masterlist taglist

an: jesus, i’m reading terms and conditions by lauren asher, so the timing of this request is perfect. thank you anon <33

boss!leon kennedy who has high expectations when he hires you. thinking you’ll be different then the secretary’s before.

boss!leon kennedy who watches you arrive 5 minutes late on your first day, messing with your clothes and getting started on the tasks he asks. he doesn’t usually let his secretary’s be late, gives them hell for it. but for you he’s letting it go.

boss!leon kennedy who finds it hard to focus sometimes when you come into the agency, your heels clicking and snapping him from his reports like a siren sound.

boss!leon kennedy who always lets his eyes linger on your legs whenever you wear a skirt, letting his eyes linger a little too long. he swears one day he’ll fuck you with a skirt on, he almost promises himself.

boss!leon kennedy who likes the way you giggle at stupid jokes and things that are said around the office. he even cracks a few when he stops by your desk outside his office, just to hear your sweet laugh.

boss!leon kennedy who takes time memorizing everything you like. making mental notes for all the things you love and hate. just because he’s interested in anything involving you.

boss!leon kennedy who drives you home late one night. he wouldn’t dream of you paying for a taxi or walking, not a beautiful girl like you and not in the city late at night.

boss!leon kennedy who steals glances at you in your pretty work attire as he drives you home, listening to your brief talking of the stressful workday and all the people you had to deal with.

boss!leon kennedy who makes sure that all the stressful people come directly to him instead of you. not wanting to stress you out or make you cry (heaven forbid), he couldn’t bear the sight of that.

boss!leon kennedy who asks you to be his date to the agency’s annual banquet. telling you it’s just a work date, but who is he kidding? he just wants to see you dressed up in something that’s not a tight blouse or skirt for once.

boss!leon kennedy who picks you up two days later at your place. having the address memorized from when he dropped you off that one time. he watches you walk out in a dress that leaves little to the imagination.

boss!leon kennedy who introduces you as his date, shushing you when you try to tell them that your his secretary instead. and he loves the way your brows furrow in confusion as you look between him and the agency’s finest at the banquet.

boss!leon kennedy who practically sends glares in other men’s directions, daring them to even try and talk to you. he doesn’t trust other men, not with what’s soon to be his.

boss!leon kennedy begrudgingly agreeing to dance with you as you drag him to the banquet halls dance floor. your arms slung around his neck and his hands hesitantly on your waist. your perfume like an aphrodisiac to him, hints of vanilla and coconut wafting into his nose as you two say on the dance floor.

boss!leon kennedy who drags you out afterwards and takes you to a conference room in the banquet hall. before you can protest he presses his lips against yours and you return it, immediately getting the subtle hints he’s dropped this evening.

boss!leon kennedy who peppers kisses along your jawline and grinds his erection into your hips as you kiss, your hands pulling greedily at his hair and letting little sounds slip. he sits you on a table and keeps devouring you.

boss!leon kennedy who pushes your dress up as you lay back on the table. he takes his time teasing and devouring you, making you whine and grasp at his hair like a tether. the prettiest sounds falling from your lips as he makes you moan and chant his name.

boss!leon kennedy who doesn’t care if there is a banquet going on outside the door, he’s going to fuck you regardless, give you what you both so desperately want.

boss!leon kennedy who fucks you with intention, letting you accommodate to his size as he smothers kisses and hickeys to your jawline, moans slipping from your lips as he fucks you faster.

boss!leon kennedy who, afterwards, makes an excuse that your feeling ill to everyone and takes you back to his place.

boss!leon kennedy who helps you take off your ruined makeup from the sex at the banquet and brushes out your frazzled sex crazed hair. he even gets you one of his large t-shirts to sleep in. loving how the fabric drowns out your frame.

boss!leon kennedy who swears you’ve ruined all other women for him. he’ll never be the same again, he swears it. he presses kisses all over and guides you to the bed.

boss!leon kennedy who tells you that he likes you, wants to be with you. despite his stoic persona is nervous and just wants you all to himself. and when you agree, wanting him back. he feels like he won the lottery.

boss!leon kennedy who falls asleep with you, in his bed in his t-shirt, feeling like the luckiest man ever in the world. not just because he’s your boss, but because your his now. and he’ll never let you go.

an: you guys are so creative. your requests never fail to blow me out of the water. reblog, like and my asks are open :)) a one shot will be up later this week. promise. i love you guys sm, mwah, kisses xx.

#leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy smut #re4 remake #leon kennedy au #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy drabble #re4 leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #re4 leon #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy hc #resident evil x reader #x reader #headcanon #boss!leonkennedy

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freedomfireflies · 2 years ago

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Hers*

Summary: The fifth and final part to Mine*

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has made you a deal.

Two for the price of one. He'll share you with Asher. For one night. And one night only.

And all you have to do? Be good and take it.

Word Count: 9.6k (...don't ask)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“Easy, mama. Breathe. That’s it, that’s my girl. Relax for me, okay? Relax.”

Forcing a shaky breath through quivering lips, you do your best to oblige Harry’s request, allowing your muscles to uncoil as you settle before him.

“Good,” he hums, large palm smoothing across your hip. “Don’t want it to hurt, my love. Need you nice and loose for me.”

“I know,” you say, lashes fluttering shut. “I know, m’sorry.”

“Don’t have to be sorry, honey,” he reminds you, although there’s a hint of reprimand. “Just have to be relaxed.”

You nod again and unclench your fists from around the blanket. He’s doing his best to help you along, making sure to keep his touch light and comforting. And it’s something you thoroughly appreciate as he gingerly circles the tip of the plug around your hole.

“Talk to me,” he suddenly demands as he pulls the item away. “Tell me what you’re looking forward to about this weekend.”

He’s trying to distract you, and you smile as you glance toward the pillows at the head of the bed. “I’m excited to be with you,” you tell him honestly. “Both of you, but…especially you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you share before.”

“And you won’t again,” he snorts under his breath before you feel his puckered lips meet your ass cheek. It’s a quick peck, meant to encourage you, and your grin grows. “Lucky I’m even considering it this time.”

You turn to sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Why are you?”

He doesn’t meet your eye, instead keeping his focus on the task at hand. “Because I can tell it’s something you want. And I want to give you everything you ever want. Everything you deserve.”

Your heart jumps. “You think I deserve Asher?”

You smirk to show you’re teasing, and he chuckles to himself as he gently guides your thighs further apart.

“I think you deserve the best,” Harry replies cooly. “Maybe that’s Asher, maybe it’s not. That’s why I want to be there. To find out.”

You run your tongue over your bottom lip. “Do you trust him?”

He looks up.

“I trust you,” he says softly. “I trust that if this is something you want…then you’ll enjoy it. And I trust that if at any point it’s not…you’ll tell me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “You know I will. But I don’t want you to do this just because of me. Not if it’s not something you actually want.”

“I want what you want,” he repeats, a bit firmer. “This time, that’s Asher. I’ve seen the way you are with him. And I’ve seen the way he is with you. The only thing I expect of him is that he takes care of you. Which he does. And as long as he continues to do so…I’ll continue to let him keep his heart inside of his body.”

You snort and glance back down at the mattress, readjusting your position. “I think you just like knowing how scared he is.”

You don’t have to see Harry to know he’s grinning. “It’s fun to watch him sweat.”

“You’re a horrible friend.”

“I’m not his friend. I’m his boss.”

“Well…you’re a horrible boss, then.”

“Considering all I’ve allowed him to see and do, I’d say I’m pretty generous.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to.”

“He did,” Harry says quickly. Confidently. “Believe me, honey. He wanted to. He told me.”

“He told you and you let him live? I’m shocked,” you tease, feigning a surprised gasp.

However, this earns you a gentle but loud smack to the ass as you chuckle.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Yes, I let him live. Because I knew he wasn’t a threat.”

“No?”

“No.” He squeezes your hip, calling your attention back as you look over your shoulder.

Your stomach flips when you see the somber expression on his face.

“You love me,” he says. Not a question. Not a theory. A statement. “He will never change that.”

“No,” you echo, and your answer overwhelms you. “No, never.”

He reaches around to take hold of your chin and give it a squeeze. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “I want to do this with you—with him—because it’ll make you happy. Because you deserve to be taken care of. And I know he’ll do it right.”

With that, he drags the tip of the plug down to the arousal already collecting between your thighs, effortlessly lubricating the small object as the question is put to bed.

You reel, gasping through a slack jaw as you steady yourself on your hands and knees.

“Remember what I said,” he reminds you, patting your hip softly. “Gotta relax for me.”

You nod quickly, silently commanding your body to comply, to unwind, to loosen.

And then…he dips down.

Spit dribbles from his lips, landing between your cheeks as you mewl and wiggle closer to the strange sensation.

He makes a noise—either of approval or disappointment, you aren’t sure—before his finger is diving through the pool of saliva and slipping inside.

He’s already been stretching you for the past few minutes, attempting to make this experience a bit more pleasant.

And you’re more than thankful for that now, lost in the feeling of your muscles being coaxed into submission, the feeling of your walls being pushed apart, the feeling of him.

His digit alone is such a fantastically full feeling, you know a cock will send you on a one-way ride to heaven.

“There she is,” he hums, seemingly proud of the way you’ve begun to unwind. “Feels good, hm?”

“Yes,” you breathe, practically pushing back into him. “Fuck—”

“Been a while, I know,” he remarks before he retracts his hand and brings the plug back. “Proud of you, mama.”

Your cheeks warm from the praise before allowing your body to fall quiet. Limbs going utterly still as you await the feeling of the toy, eyes falling down to the dark duvet beneath you.

There’s not much resistance, and you can’t feel too surprised. In fact, it’s quite the subtle but enjoyable feeling. Made even more pleasurable by the way Harry speaks to you.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he whispers, making sure to keep a steady pace. “Oh, honey. Look so pretty right now. Wish you could see how well your sweet little hole stretches for me.”

You bite back a moan. Clenching certainly won’t help, and you almost wonder if he’s trying to be lewd on purpose, just to test you.

Once it’s seated snugly within your ass, Harry hums again and presses his lips to the base of your spine. “There you go. How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you whisper, allowing for a moment to indulge in the sensation. “Full.”

“Yeah? Good,” he repeats, taking a handful of hip in each hand before pulling you back just to watch your cheeks spread. “Fucking hell, mama. Don’t know if I can wait till this evening.”

You smirk as you settle onto your heels, lacing your fingers through his. “Then don’t. Call him over now.”

“Wish I could,” he sighs as he walks around the bed to face you. “But I need to swing by the warehouse, and I need you somewhere safe.”

“And why again am I not safe here?”

“Told you,” he says, caressing your cheek with his palm before running a thumb down your lip. “This location could be compromised if something goes wrong. S’better to have you in a safe house while we have the meeting. And once it’s all over, we can come home.”

Home. A singular word filled with a lifetime of memories. You love the way he says it. Love the tenacious way he speaks about the shared space you both belong in. The place you yearn to come back to.

You press your mouth against his finger, kissing him gently.

He smiles.

“Okay,” you agree. “As long as you’re not gone long.”

“Try not to be.”

“Promise?”

He frowns but there’s a hint of playful amusement within the firm expression. “You know how I feel about promises.”

“I know,” you reply, sneaking your hand around his wrist to keep him close. “But I need you to promise me anyway.”

He sighs. “Honey…”

“I need to hear you say it,” you insist softly. “I need to know you’ll come back to me.”

Now he understands, and his eyes fill with a desperate longing. “Always,” he nearly growls, using both palms to take hold of your face and bring you to him. “Fucking always, mama. Always come back to you.”

You smile as your nose brushes against his. “Promise?”

He exhales a deep breath, as if you’ve stolen the air right out of his lungs. “I promise.”

You kiss him. And you don’t let him go for quite some time, thankful to have him in this moment…and all the rest.

“But you have to promise me something, too,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Yeah?”

He nods before that devious grin finds its way back. “Promise me…you won’t tell Asher about this little surprise until tonight,” he says, reaching down to smack his hand against your ass. “Think he deserves a little treat.”

And you can’t help but laugh as you agree. “I promise,” you vow before the sound of the door opening echoes throughout the apartment.

Asher announces his arrival as Harry helps you to your feet, making sure to keep you steady as you adjust to the newly acquired object.

“Get dressed,” he instructs softly before releasing you to walk toward the door. “He’s gonna take you to the safe house, and then I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” you reply, equally as quiet. “Har?”

He stops just before he’s completely disappeared into the hallway. “Hm?”

“I love you.”

He smiles, and it makes your heart sing.

“I love you, honey,” he calls back. “Now be good for me.”

You grin. “Yes, daddy.”

And he laughs. In that beautiful, symphonic way. It almost makes your chest ache as you watch him slip into the living room to debrief his right-hand man while you’re left to put your shorts back on.

Once you’re ready, you join the boys by the door, catching the tail end of their hushed conversation.

“—until tomorrow,” Harry is murmuring. “Unless we draw him out.”

“We will,” Asher replies, nodding once. “Matthews is a fucking idiot. He thinks he’s got a shot at infiltrating our system, he’s not gonna pass that up.”

“No,” Harry agrees. “Especially not after Sean—"

The muted discussion comes to an abrupt end when Harry’s eye catches you sneaking through the living room.

“Hi, sugar,” he calls, a bit louder than necessary, almost as if alerting Asher of your presence, too.

Asher turns, and when he sees you…he smiles.

“Hi,” you say back, nodding at the second-in-command.

“You ready?” Harry asks.

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what to bring, but—”

“Asher’s got it,” Harry answers simply, shooting you a reassuring grin. “Don’t need to bring anything but that cute little ass.”

The teasing remark is a double-edged sword, and you and Harry exchange a smirk as your skin warms and Asher’s brow raises.

However, he doesn’t question it. “In that case…are you ready?”

You nod again. “I think. How far is it?”

“Couple hours,” Harry replies. “Just outside the city.”

“Is Paul coming?”

“No.”

Your brow raises. “Okay…why?”

There’s a beat as Harry reaches into his suit jacket pocket to retrieve a cigarette and a match. “We’re not compromising your location,” he says as he places the filter between his lips and strikes the light. “S’better if fewer people know.”

“So, just you and Asher?”

“Mhm.” He inhales deeply before plucking the object between two fingers and pulling it free. “You’ll be safer that way.”

And despite how methodical he makes the whole affair sound, you know this is something he’s actively fighting himself on.

He prioritizes you above all else, even when that means sending you two hours away so he can conduct a meeting with someone on the black market.

But he hates it. You know he hates it. He absolutely cannot stand being away from you, especially in moments like this.

And he doesn’t want you to know just how weak you make him.

Fighting a gentle smirk, you stride toward him and snatch the cigarette from his grasp.

He huffs as you smash the ashes against the wall, effectively putting out the light before tossing it into the trash can.

“What have I told you about this?” you remind him, tone playful with just a hint of admonishment.

He sighs, glancing down at the lost nicotine with a mournful frown. “Well, what else do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you…to kiss me,” you whisper as he drags his eyes back to you.

It doesn’t take much more for him to slip his fingers around the back of your neck and tug you to him, his mouth instantly colliding with yours.

It doesn’t matter that he’d already kissed you a mere ten minutes ago.

Because this kiss—and all of his kisses—are like snowflakes. Unique, and special, and one of a kind.

It makes your stomach flip, and your head grow fuzzy, and your ears ring.

Because it’s never just a kiss.

It’s an unspoken vow of love and loyalty.

“I love you,” he whispers, soft enough that you imagine only you can hear.

You nod quickly as you press your lips into his bottom one. “I love you,” you repeat. “Don’t be stupid.”

He grins as he releases you. “Never.”

With that, you follow Asher out of the apartment, leaving Harry to finish a few things before heading to the warehouse.

However, instead of Asher’s familiar car, you’re brought to a stop in front of a rather intimidating looking motorcycle.

“And what…is this?” you ask as he grabs a helmet off the handle.

He chuckles while outstretching it toward you. “What’s it look like, sweetheart?”

“You want to take this?” you nearly stammer, eyeing the dark black death machine. “What was wrong with your car?”

He lifts his shoulder in a casual shrug. “Not nearly as fun, now, is it?”

Your response is a flat expression, and he laughs again.

“There’s a higher chance of somebody recognizing my car,” he explains as he moves to swing his leg over the bike. “But they won’t recognize this.”

It’s an adequate justification you suppose. And you aren’t opposed to riding one. You and Harry used to ride together all the time back when you first met.

But never when you had a plug in.

Swallowing your nerves, you slip the helmet over your head as Asher starts the engine, his observant eyes flicking across the dash.

Straddling onto the back of the seat behind him, you watch while he revs the throttle, and props his foot up.

Then, he glances toward his shoulder. “You ready, sweetheart?”

You swallow, arms slipping around his dark black t-shirt. “Where’s your helmet?”

He smirks. “Only have the one. But I don’t need it. I’ll be fine.”

You can’t help the disapproving frown that forms. “Ash—”

“Don’t worry,” he insists, chuckling as he returns his attention forward. “Just hold on, yeah?”

With that, the bike jolts forward, and you cement yourself to his back as he swings a right and leads you both out of the parking lot.

He’s on the highway in twenty seconds flat, swaying from side to side as he slips between the cars. It’s one effortless, fluid motion that makes your heart drop to your stomach, but more than that…it’s exhilarating.

In fact, you don’t even have time to be anxious when each bump you hit and turn you make stimulates the small object beneath you.

And you’re trying not to let it affect you. Trying so hard to keep your focus on the two-hour ride you have ahead of you.

But then the tires will roll over a small rock, and your eyes will roll back in your head.

Your fingers dig into the fabric on Asher’s chest as you squeeze for dear life. And he glances back from time to time, just to make sure you’re all right.

But you’re not all right. And you won’t be until you take this damn thing out.

“You okay?” he yells once you’ve left the city.

You nod. “Yeah,” you call back, although your boa constrictor-like grip suggests otherwise. “Just peachy.”

You catch his smile before he gets off the exit and begins down a seemingly abandoned back road.

There’s still ninety minutes to go, so you will yourself to relax. To focus on anything else besides the throbbing between your legs. Or the position of your clit against the seat. Or the way your chest is pressed to Asher’s back.

But it seems as though the entire universe is working against you in this moment, and despite your best efforts, you find that you’re losing the game.

And when the bike rounds a particularly sharp corner, it all comes to a hilt.

A rather airy moan slips free as you scratch your nails down his chest, and you catch the way he sneaks a look back at you.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks again, seemingly unaware of the nature behind your noise.

However, speaking will only make things worse, so you nod mutely and pull your lip between your teeth.

This answer satiates him for a while longer before it happens again, and your whimpers become harder to hide.

He doesn’t question you this time around, but a quick glance over his profile proves that he’s beginning to understand why these noises are different.

And so familiar.

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask you to explain. That he doesn’t directly call out your subtle grinding or the desperate whines that dance through the wind and find him.

Instead, he carries on with the ride as though he hasn’t noticed, and this alone gives you the strength to keep your impending orgasm at bay.

After all, Harry would be quite disappointed to find out he’d missed such a sight.

And you don’t imagine starting off the evening with Harry’s disapproval will work in your favor.

The next hour feels like the slow crawl of death. The tortuous journey nearly dragging you to the finish line as Asher finally arrives at the gated building.

You just about moan with relief when he punches in the code, pulls into the parking lot, and brings the motorbike to a stop.

And the moment the engine is killed, you have to bite back a whine, thankful for the reprieve from the vibrations against your cunt.

Asher helps you stand to your feet before slipping the helmet off your head and placing it back on the handle.

You notice he’s smiling in that charming, boyish way. A look that you’re more than familiar with, and it instantly calms your remaining nerves as he leads you inside.

He spends the first few minutes surveying the premises. Checking each closet, door, and hallway for any security risks or planted bugs. He then radios Paul and instructs him to confirm to Harry that the location is secure.

Finally, once Asher is satisfied, he joins you in the living room, and returns his gun to his belt.

“How you feelin’?” he asks, perching on the edge of the seat just beside you.

You swallow thickly and squeeze your thighs a bit tighter together. “Hm? Oh, good. Yeah. Good. Better. Now that we’re…on the ground again.”

He exhales a gentle laugh, and you feel your cheeks fill with heat. “Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay. It was…fun.”

His brow jumps up. “Yeah?”

Shit. You glance back down at your lap and nod once. “Mhm.”

Once again, he finds amusement through your timid behavior and lack of eye contact. But you can’t explain why, and you can’t exactly fight it. So, you surrender to the docile demeanor, keeping your focus on your cuticles as you wait for Harry to join you.

“Hey, Ash?” you venture after a moment, breaking the comfortable quiet.

His head turns to you.

“Are you…nervous? About tonight?” you begin hesitantly, letting yourself steal a glimpse of his quizzical expression. “I mean…is this something you really want to do? Or is Harry manhandling you into it?”

He laughs, and the warm sound echoes around the room. “Believe me, sweetheart. I am more than okay with it.”

You shift in your spot on the sofa, angling your body to fully face him. “Okay, but…are you sure? Just because he’s your boss doesn’t mean you have to do everything he says. He won’t kill you if you say no.”

He grins so big you can see his teeth. “That’s not why I agreed. I agreed because he was right. It’s my job to take care of you.”

You sigh, features playfully unamused. “I think this goes well beyond the specifications of your job description.”

“Maybe. But you’re his girl. And I’d do anything for either of you.”

“Even this?”

“Even this.”

“And it’s not…weird?”

“I don’t think so. Do you?”

You hesitate. “No…I’ve known you forever. I feel safe with you.”

“Good.” He seems genuinely pleased with this. “This isn’t about me, sweetheart. This is about you. About both of you. Harry likes an audience and I’m happy to give him one.”

You suppose this is true. You’ve always known this about your boyfriend and truth be told, you can’t imagine a better audience than Asher.

You spend the next half hour or so exchanging stories about the aforementioned man. The different moods he has, the different coping methods he’s developed, and even a few of his more taboo kinks.

Asher remarks on how different Harry was when he was younger, although he’s not surprised that this is the man he became. And he’s happy that you found each other. That you can be Harry’s light.

And you’re happy that Harry can be your darkness.

Not long after, the security system calls a shrill word of warning from its spot on the wall as Asher leaps to his feet and heads for the door.

He sneaks a hand behind his back, fingers curling on the base of the gun still hidden beneath his belt while cautiously approaching. Then, after a quick look over the monitor, he presses a button and instantly steps back to allow the door to swing open.

And in strides Harry.

He looks about the same as when you left him. He’s still donning his dark, matte suit. His hair is still perfectly displaced, and his skin is still thankfully free of any blood.

A good sign.

But everything else is off. His ordinarily indifferent expression has grown hard. Unforgiving. His jaw seems to be clenched so tight, you’re worried he might chip a tooth. The veins in his neck are corded and pushing against his skin, and even from the sofa, you can see there’s an emptiness in his eye.

Asher begins to frown. “What happened?”

Harry’s head shakes as he looks from his right-hand man to you. “Not now,” he says simply, voice dripping with malicious disdain. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”

Instead, he brushes past Asher and makes a beeline for you. And your heart flutters inside your chest as you look up at the tall man coming to a quick stop before you.

He reaches out and snatches your chin in his palm, gently but firmly tugging you upright until he can connect his lips with yours.

This kiss is angry. Vindictive. Filled with remorse and malevolent indignation. It captures each desperate gasp for air, and he swallows your timid compliance mercilessly.

When he feels generous enough to allow you a breath, you’re tucked beneath his arm while he presses his mouth against your temple.

“How was it?” he whispers, and there’s a certain strain to his inquisition that suggests he’s wrestling a larger demon within himself.

You nod gently and let the smell of his familiar cologne envelope you—calm you. “It was good.”

“Yeah?” He looks to Asher. “No problems?”

“Not…exactly,” Asher replies, and you watch the corner of his mouth dance with the idea of smirking.

Harry’s eyebrow raises. “And what does that mean?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a problem,” Asher explains, letting his focus fall to you. “But I think she did have a bit of an interesting ride.”

Harry’s head rolls until he can look down at you. “Oh?”

Your skin warms under the heat of his gaze as you tangle your fingers into his nice shirt. “Couldn’t help it. Felt so good, Har.”

You watch as Harry’s calloused features dissolve into that of smug intrigue. “I bet it did, mama. Does he know why?”

The spotlight swings to Asher, who stands a few feet away, exceedingly curious.

Your lips roll into your mouth as you shake your head.

Harry smiles. “Then why don’t you show him?”

Eager to do just that, you stand back, and lace your fingers around the waistband of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn around, and begin shimmying the denim material down your thighs. Then, you continue to guide the pants down to your ankles, body bending until they reach the floor.

And the moment you’re bent over, you hear Asher curse.

He’s got a direct line of sight to the purple object Harry placed neatly between your ass. And now he understands why the ride on his motorcycle was so…stimulating for you. Why it had you whimpering in his ear as he rocked the bike from side to side while racing through the mountains.

And after you’ve stood back up and turned around, you can see exactly what this revelation does to him.

Harry chuckles underneath his breath as he slips his palm across your bare hip, guiding you back to him. “S’pretty, isn’t it?”

Asher swallows visibly before forcing a curt nod. “Mhm. Very.”

“All nice and stretched for you,” Harry murmurs before grinning down at your hopeful expression. “Aren’t you, honey? You ready to take him?”

You nearly mewl as you nod your enthusiastic agreement, once more grasping onto his shirt as if to plead with him.

“I know,” he coos, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Bet it’s been aching all day, hm? Know you’re so excited.”

And you are. You’ve never felt more infatuated with an idea, and the longer they take to ruin you, the worse the need gets.

“My sweet girl,” he whispers, guiding his thumb toward your lips before slipping it inside your mouth.

You suck, instantly calmed as you sweep your tongue around him, and allow yourself to settle.

“Gotta go over some rules first, yeah?” he says, a bit louder now so you both can hear.

Asher steps closer.

“One…this is about you, mama,” Harry begins, echoing Asher’s earlier sentiments. “We’re not here to hurt you, or punish you, or make you feel unsafe. Is that understood?”

You nod.

He pops his finger free just to take hold of your jaw. “Two…you use your words. Always. You tell us that you’re okay or if you need to stop. If you don’t, I end it.”

You nod again, but he frowns.

“Okay,” you agree verbally, and he hums. “I will.”

Pleased, he carries on. “Three…” He turns to Asher now. “You don’t come inside her. Not her ass. Not her throat. Nothing. You pull out, you get yourself off, and that’s it.”

For some reason, you almost feel embarrassed by the unrelenting and rather strict condition that Harry proposes.

But Asher merely replies, “Understood.”

“And you wear a condom,” Harry adds. “I won’t risk her health because of this. I don’t care if you’re clean, I don’t care if you’re gentle. The only one that gets to feel her is me.”

“Understood.”

Harry’s attention returns to you. “If at any point you want to stop, or you want him gone, or you feel unsure…you fucking tell me. I don’t care if we haven’t come. I don’t care if you think you need to make us happy, make us finish. You tell me. And we’ll talk about it.”

Another resolute rule. “I know, Har. I will. I promise.”

But he’s not finished. “And if you slip into your subspace, then I make the call. If I think you need to be through, then we’re through. And I don’t want any whining or begging. We stop, and that’s that.”

The anticipation just about kills you. Already, your eagerness to be put in these situations lures you into a submissive state of mind. Until everything whittles down to what he’s saying. What he’s offering.

“Okay,” you breathe, bouncing on the tips of your toes. “Okay, I swear.”

He studies you for a moment. Perhaps looking for any deception or perhaps he’s deciding if you’re truly hearing him.

But you know he’s just as keen as you are to begin, so he nods his approval before tapping his finger over your mouth once more.

“Good girl,” he hums. “Now…take my rings off for me.”

Your breath hitches as you step closer, instantly taking hold of his wrist to hold his hand where you need it.

And both men watch as you lick your tongue up his palm and right toward his middle digit.

Once you’ve reached the tip, you wrap your lips around him and move down, teeth gently grazing his skin as you go.

You vaguely catch his mumbled curse as you reach the delicate piece of jewelry. But you pay it no mind, instead keeping your focus on swirling your tongue around the ring before latching onto it and sucking it back up.

Once it’s off, he holds out his other hand, and you let it drop.

He smirks. “Good girl. Now the others.”

You move to the next one, repeating the pattern of pulling and guiding, all while making sure to put on a show.

You never once deviate your eyes from his, allowing him to see just how much you enjoy completing such a menial, borderline degrading task.

And you let him know just how much you love when he’s in charge.

It’s rare he offers to let you take the reins. But when he does, it’s still quite fun. After all, he thinks it’s cute when you’re his dominant and you think it’s cute that he pretends you actually are.

Once his fingers are ring free, he slips his palm around the back of your neck and gives it a squeeze. “Bedroom. Now.”

Slightly disappointed to steal yourself from him, you nod and begin for the room just off the hallway.

The boys follow a few feet behind, and you can hear their soft murmurings, but you don’t inquire to know the details. You imagine you’ll find out soon enough.

Once you’ve all gathered around the mattress, Harry takes your hand, brings your knuckles to his lips, and winks.

Your skin warms from the rather innocent display of affection before he’s leading you to the bed. You’re placed between his legs while he settles back against the headboard, and the moment you’re comfortable, his large hands curl around your thighs and drag them apart.

Then, Asher makes himself known, crawling into the newly made space until he can nestle down onto his stomach.

He takes hold of your hips, and with a little help from Harry, manages to lift you up so he can slip a pillow beneath your ass.

You swallow.

“It’s Asher’s turn to taste you,” Harry tells you simply, dipping down until his mouth can dance across your ear. “And I’m gonna be nice…and let him.”

You push yourself into Harry’s chest, head dropping onto his shoulder as you scratch your nails down his arms. You can’t find a response. Don’t really need one. You just need them.

Asher seems encouraged by your willing silence, smiling to himself as he scoots closer and smooths his touch up your legs.

“You ready, sweetheart?” His voice is calm. Reassuring. Familiar and all around safe.

You nod before Harry pinches your thigh and reminds you of his rule. “Yes,” you say aloud. “Yes, I’m ready.”

You feel Harry smirk against your cheek.

With that, Asher dives forward. You weren’t sure how he would feel. You know how his fingers feel. Know his touch, and his voice, and the way he looks at you.

But this…this is new. Wonderful, and soft, and just a bit dangerous.

It’s even a bit messy. How could it not be with the way you’ve been drenched since the moment Harry put the plug in. Truth be told, you’re not sure the difference between your arousal and Asher’s contribution.

Either way, his large tongue licks up your cunt like this is the first drink of water he’s had in years. Like you’re the only remedy to his deprivation. As if he knows this is the first and only time Harry will ever allow him to taste you.

He indulges in you. Nips at you with the fervent desire to feast. To lick through you, to devour you, to savor everything you have to offer.

He’s relentless and yet patient. He takes his time because he knows you have more to give. Knows that you’re enjoying this as much as he is.

“Look at you, mama,” Harry whispers, his strong fingers pressing marks into your tender skin as he keeps you spread. “Fucking love this, don’t you?”

And you do, so you nod zealously, whimpering beneath a pained breath as you squirm between Harry’s legs.

“How does he feel, hm?” he asks next, running his nose along your temple. “S’he making you feel good, honey?”

Your answer comes in the form of a salacious moan, your jaw going slack as you suck in a sharp breath.

“Is that a yes?” Harry pushes. “’Cause if he’s not…I’ll put a fucking bullet through his head.”

And you can feel Asher curse against your pussy before he’s sucking your clit into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as you whine.

The threat lingers for just a moment, met only with more needy whimpers, and lewd licks to your cunt.

You don’t imagine Harry would ever follow through on such an ultimatum, but the look in Asher’s eye almost convinces you otherwise.

Harry’s decisions are rarely ever made through calm, sound logic. More often than not, his choices are the result of a short temper and lack of patience.

And you. Despite what he might tell you, you are the sole reason for his insanity. He will stop at nothing to keep you with him. Keep this little life you two have built.

And if Asher happened to compromise that…

You shiver from the very thought, and from the way your orgasm is beginning to unravel.

“Are you close, sweet girl?” Harry murmurs, pulling you a bit wider. “Hm? Does it ache, baby? Need to let go? Need to come?”

You’re trying to nod, trying to breathe, trying to do anything but cry desperately as you writhe between his arms.

He only hums. “No.”

With that, Asher pops his mouth from your clit and straightens up, leaving your swollen, sensitive, and quite red cunt where he found it.

You wilt. Become absolutely unhinged as the loss of pleasure leaves you desolate and depraved.

“Harry,” you nearly gasp, whining as you tug on his wrists.

“No,” he repeats calmly. “No, not gonna waste your first on him. Want your first around us, mama. Gonna be around our cocks, yeah?”

Truthfully, you want nothing else, and you just about purr as you murmur your agreement, and scoot back into his body.

He chuckles when he feels the way you’re trying to pull your legs from beneath his hands, clearly desperate for some sort of friction. And you hope he’ll have pity on you. At least let you find a bit of relief before you begin.

However, he only smacks his large hand down your naked thigh in warning before you feel his mouth press to your cheek.

“No,” he repeats for a third time. “Enough. Told you to behave, didn’t I?”

You fight to catch your breath. “…yes.”

“So behave.”

God, you could just about come from his tone of voice alone. The angry and virile hiss that he only uses when he’s truly lost on you. In the need to own you, claim you, ruin you completely.

He smacks your leg again, albeit gentler this time around. “Up.”

A bit confused, you wearily push yourself onto your knees until you can straighten up and steal a glimpse of the man behind you.

He smirks when sees the confused expression on your face before jutting his chin toward his pants. “Take ‘em off.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. So, while Asher stands from the bed and begins to strip himself of his own clothing, you get to work on Harry.

Shaky, excitable fingers move for the dark waistband around his hips. They pinch the zipper and drag it down before tugging on the material until it can slip down his legs.

You wiggle backward as you guide the pants off before tossing them aside to focus on his briefs.

And you just about drool when you get to see him. His strong, tan thighs. The muscles that quiver and dip as he scoots up. The way you can see the bulge straining against the fabric of his underwear as you greedily move closer.

The moment you make contact with the band, however, Harry snatches hold of your wrists to slow you down.

“Easy, mama,” he instructs softly, thumbs stroking across the joints of your hand. “You’re okay. Not nervous, are you?”

Having mistaken your trembling touch for unease, he attempts to pull you to him.

But you merely smile and shake your head. “No, I promise. I’m excited.”

“Are you sure?” His expression is quizzical. Scrutinizing. Looking to see if he needs to make a call you can’t make for yourself.

But you grin and surge forward, pressing your lips to his as he sighs. “Promise,” you repeat, using this distraction as an opportunity to rip his briefs down.

He hisses when his cocks comes free, forehead finding yours before he looks down to see it.

In fact, you both look, and you feel utterly mesmerized by the way it calls to you. The way it’s hard and ready to be touched.

All for you.

You’d take him into your mouth right now if that’s what he wanted but you know he wants to save each ounce of his pleasure for you.

So, you simply toss the underwear aside, and anxiously stare at his shirt.

This is what you’d like to rid him of next, but without his explicit instruction, you’re forced to wait. To stare at the black fabric until he realizes what it is you want.

And when he does, he smiles.

“All right,” he concedes, sitting up so you can peel it off. “Go ahead.”

You waste no more time, slipping your hands around the hem before pulling it up and over his head.

Now…you see him. All of him. Naked, and sculpted, and so goddamn beautiful. Your own work of art, right here in front of you, ready for the taking.

And you can’t wait to take him.

Now, the attention returns to you. You’re still in the oversized t-shirt you’d slipped on earlier, and while it’s quite comfortable, you know for Harry, this just won’t do.

So, he smooths his palms along your thighs, over your hips, and across your stomach before guiding the shirt up.

You shiver with every brush of his skin against yours, and nearly whine when you feel his thumbs sweep just below the swell of your breasts.

But he doesn’t linger. Because of course he doesn’t. Instead, he plucks the material from your body, and tosses it onto the pile of clothes already gathering on the floor.

The bed dips, reminding you of your guest, and just before you can turn to see him, Harry grasps onto your jaw.

He keeps your focus on him, an emphatic frown sitting comfortably on his mouth. “Promise me.”

You hesitate, momentarily unsure what he means.

Then…you do.

You squeeze his arm between both hands and smile gently. “I promise.”

And you’ve never seen him so happy.

A second body appears behind your own, a subtle warmth radiating from the soft skin as it ghosts across your back.

You quickly relax, already feeling safer from the way you’re sandwiched between the two men.

And Harry is pleased with this, letting his eyes flick to the second-in-command just over your shoulder.

“Take it out,” he instructs before his hands move to your hips. “Gonna need to breathe, mama.”

You nod as Harry pulls you over his lap, settling one knee on either side of his hips until you’re in the position to straddle him.

And Asher shuffles forward as well, kneeling between Harry’s bent legs while Harry scoots a bit further down until more of his back is on the mattress.

Then, you feel a set of fingers dance across your ass and toward the toy so snugly placed within.

Your lashes flutter as Asher uses his other hand to sweep some of your hair over your right shoulder, allowing him a better view of your back.

“There you go,” he whispers encouragingly as he gets a grip on the plug. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You pull in a quick breath. “Yes.”

Harry smiles.

Without another thought, Asher begins to slide the object out of your tighter hole, agonizingly slow as Harry brings you toward his cock and pushes the head against you.

The dual sensation makes you stumble over a frantic gasp as you place your hands on Harry’s chest to brace yourself.

But this is only the beginning as Harry nudges himself through your soaked folds and toward where you drip for him.

Then…he thrusts up.

The moment his cock slips in, Asher completely removes the plug, leaving you empty and yet somehow full.

It’s confusing, and wonderful, and overwhelming. And you can’t seem to focus on any one thing as you hear the toy being tossed onto the mattress before Asher is bringing himself closer.

“Okay, honey, you all right?” Harry grits between clenched teeth, clearly fighting the urge to ram himself into you.

Or perhaps he’s merely fighting the sight of Asher pressing his chest to your shoulder blades.

Either way, you nod. “Yes, m’okay. Ready.”

“That’s our girl,” Harry breathes, and you hear Asher hum behind you. “Gonna have to relax for me, mama. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not gonna make it.”

You do your best to unclench. To mellow out, slacken the strain on your muscles. And it works, allowing Harry to push in a bit further as your chest just about caves in.

It’s enthralling, but it always is with him. And despite how well your body knows his cock, it continues to stretch for him, beckoning him in as he groans and digs his fingers into your thighs.

“There you go,” he murmurs, the muscles near the edge of his jaw twitching as he surges forward. “S’a good fucking girl. Taking me so well, sugar.”

You mewl as you wiggle over him, needing him to fill you all the way before you’ll feel fully satisfied.

And Asher attempts to help ease your neediness, familiar hands smoothing up your arms and toward your shoulders.

Then, he presses his lips to the side of your throat, and you just about collapse.

However, the moment your eyes roll back, Harry makes one final thrust, completely disappearing inside of you.

He curses as you whimper, a rather pathetic noise scraping from your throat as your head drops forward until your chin meets your chest.

“Fucking hell, mama,” he grunts, nails scratching patterns into your feverish skin. “Feel so good for me, sweet girl. You like sittin’ on my cock? Hm? Like getting to feel me in your tummy?”

But you can’t speak. Can’t. Your entire mouth has gone numb as Harry slowly begins to lift you back up just so he can thrust into you again.

“What a tight little pussy,” he seethes, the sound of him slipping through your arousal echoing throughout the air. “He’s gonna fucking love it, isn’t he? Gonna fucking love to feel you the way I do. Gonna make his fucking day.”

And almost as if to prove Harry’s point, you feel the head of Asher’s cock brush against your lower back until a sharp chill runs down your spine.

A thin layer of sweat has begun to coat your entire body as you impatiently wait for the second-in-command to join in. You know he won’t until Harry deems you ready, but you wish he’d just do it anyway.

It might be fun to see Harry mad.

Already, you feel that familiar tinge of pleasure making a home between your legs. It’s far too easy with the way you were edged earlier but now it just about ruins you.

“Okay,” Harry murmurs, his own chest rising and falling with quick breaths as he sheaths himself inside your cunt. “Okay, Ash, go. Go.”

And before you can even thirstily dwell on the implication of this permission, you feel another hand on your hip as the tip of Asher’s cock sweeps down your ass.

“Easy,” comes the sultry command of the man behind you. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, yeah? Just need you to breathe for me.”

“Okay,” you pant, head rolling back until it can settle into his shoulder.

He smiles against your cheek. “Doing so good. M’gonna go slow, okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat, eyes screwing shut from the lack of stimulation.

You hear him pump himself a time or two, the sound of the lube he must have applied when you were focused on Harry making you whine.

Then, you feel him pull your cheeks apart, and gingerly trail the tip of his cock between.

“Breathe,” Harry reminds you, straining to speak through his clenched jaw. “Make daddy happy, honey. Come on.”

So, you do. You suck in a greedy gasp for air, hold it in your lungs, and then release it back into the room.

Pleased, Harry brings one hand to your chest, tweaking your nipple between his fingers, and right as he does, you feel Asher slip in.

Your mouth drops open, a frantic moan catching in your throat as you roll forward, nearly collapsing onto Harry’s chest.

But he catches you. They both do, quick to encourage you back upright so Asher can continue, and you feel your mind grow hazy.

“There she is,” Harry whispers, kneading your tit in his palm. “Shit, mama. M’so fucking proud of you. Look so pretty right now, taking him. Does it feel good? You feel okay?”

And you appreciate his concern more than anything in the world, your heart fluttering in your chest as you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper, an airy reply that’s almost lost beneath the sound of Asher’s forced exhale. “I’m okay. Promise.”

Harry releases your chest to press his hand to your cheek, thumb stroking just below your eye. “My precious girl. Knew you’d behave for us. Love getting to see you like this. All fucked out and happy. Are you happy, sugar?”

You are. So utterly and unconditionally happy right now that you feel tears spring to your lash line as you turn to press your mouth into Harry’s palm.

He sighs at the feel of your kiss against his skin, but the tender moment between you is cut short when Asher finally pushes in to the hilt, forcing a surprised whimper.

The overwhelming feel of both men—both cocks—stretching you from the inside out is almost more than you can handle. Because it’s everything. Everywhere. All at once. You know them both in the most intimate of ways, and a mangled cry rips from your tongue as they offer you a moment to adjust.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Asher asks, nudging his nose beneath your jaw. You can hear how hard he’s trying not to groan—can feel the restraint he’s using to keep himself still.

It takes you a minute to find a response, nearly winded from the all-consuming rush of pleasure.

Then, Harry taps your cheek firmly, and moves his hand to your throat. “Speak, mama. You know the rule.”

“I’m…yes,” you huff, attempting to roll your hips. “Yes, please…please, Har. Need…need—”

You watch his eyes flick to Asher before he swallows thickly and nods once. “Okay. All right, we’ve got you.”

And so begins the soft but purposeful thrusts.

They work in tandem, easing out of you slowly just to push back in, basking in the sound of your wetness dripping down their cocks, and the way your body tenses.

They speak in hushed but lustful tones. Their hands never leave you, their focus never leaves you.

Asher commits to kissing along the slope of your shoulder while Harry obligates his attention to running his fingers down your skin.

He scratches, and pulls, and squeezes every inch of your body. And he watches you. Watches you with the kind of adoration that makes the coil nearly snap into a million irremediable pieces.

Suddenly, Harry reaches around your hip to grasp onto Asher’s wrist, and you watch with wide eyes as he brings the right-hand man’s palm to your stomach.

Then…he thrusts up.

“Feel that?” he just about growls, looking between you. “That’s how fucking deep I am. That’s how well she fucking takes me.”

The pressure of their touch against the bulge in your belly has the whines falling miserably from your mouth. A sound that mixes almost wickedly with Asher’s own animalistic grunts as Harry hisses between clenched teeth.

This is what seems to set them off. Their rhythm switches from slow and soft to hard and fast. Needing to feel the way your warmth completely and wholly clenches down.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Asher grumbles, his chest knocking into your back with each snap of his hips. “You feel full? Feel good?”

“Yes,” you cry, nails scratching down Harry’s chest as you move in time with their pattern. “Please…don’t…don’t stop—”

“Never, baby,” Harry bites, driving in so deep, it almost hurts. “Fucking never stop. Give you everything—”

“Shit—”

“Can feel you, baby. Feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. You gonna come? Gonna come for us?”

“Yes…yes, yes—”

“Yeah? Go ahead, mama. Fucking come. Let him feel how fucking good you are to me. Let him know what it’s like to have you coming around his cock—”

You scream something akin to his name when it hits you, eyes rolling so far back, you see stars.

You lose time. Lose everything, nearly lose consciousness. And they don’t stop. They fuck you through every second, and the sounds they make almost send you into a second.

You can’t differentiate between the two, but your ears fill with the melodic sound of whimpers and grunts of appreciation as they fuck themselves deeper. As they hit each spot so perfectly that it almost kills you.

But Harry’s not through. He presses his fingers into your clit and chases after another orgasm. Pinching and pressing and rubbing until you’re attempting to squirm away from him, begging him to stop, to let you breathe.

Your cheeks are stained with ecstatic tears as you come undone for a second time, quicker but still blissfully euphoric.

“Please, please, please,” you hear yourself whine, slumping forward as Asher wraps an arm around your middle to keep you upright. “Please…Har…please. Can’t…can’t…”

“Shh, you’re all right,” comes the distant but gentle sound of Harry’s voice, vaguely keeping you present as your mind attempts to float away. “So fucking proud of you, mama. M’not through with you yet.”

“Please…”

“Easy, honey. It’s okay. Just gonna play with you a little longer. You’ll let Daddy play you with your little clit, yeah?”

You nod mutely, humming to yourself as he pinches the sensitive nerves between the pads of his fingers. “Har…”

“I know,” he coos as Asher releases a deep breath in your ear. “Hurts, doesn’t it? All swollen, aren’t you?”

Again, you can do nothing but move your head up and down lazily as you lean back into Asher’s chest.

“Gonna give me one more, baby,” Harry instructs, thrusts faltering the closer he nears his own release. “Just one fucking more, and Daddy will be so proud. Both be so proud of you.”

And that alone is enough to encourage your compliance, forcing the third to hit you fast like a runaway train before you can even see it coming.

You make it about halfway through the glaringly wonderful rush of endorphins when Harry is suddenly straightening up, placing a hand on Asher’s shoulder, and shoving him back.

Asher’s cock slips from your hole as he’s pushed away from you, leaving you to gasp.

“No,” Harry seethes, shooting a malevolent and unyielding look toward his second-in-command. “You’re done. You fucking finish over there.”

You aren’t afforded the chance to understand just what’s occurred before Harry is settling back onto the bed and thrusting his hips upward.

His cock completely disappears inside your pussy, forcing a debauched sound to bleed from your mouth as he twitches and finally releases himself into you.

And it’s exactly like you remember. Warm, and good, and exciting. The look on his face as he fills you. The way his tan skin glistens with a sheen of sweat and the beautiful sounds that slip between his lips.

You’d stay here a lifetime if you could.

Which seems to be his intention because even after he’s finished, he refuses to let you move. Instead wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into his chest, his chin meeting the top of your head.

He keeps his cock warm inside you for quite some time. All throughout the sound of Asher pumping himself off until he comes over his hand and stomach.

Minutes pass until the room falls silent. Until you’ve all caught your breath and found your way back to the present.

Eventually, Harry shifts, and you can hear him murmur something to the man behind you.

You don’t catch it through your hazy state of mind, but you feel comforted in hearing the familiar cadence of their voices.

You’re scooped up into a pair of arms and walked into another room. You blink the fog from your eyes as Asher flips on the shower and Harry places you back onto your feet.

You’re kept steady as you’re guided beneath the warm, gentle stream of water and you instantly nuzzle your face in Harry’s chest as he chuckles.

The two men dedicate their time to running some soap down your body, between your legs, along your back, and across your chest.

Harry is gentle when he massages the shampoo into your hair, despite the way you pout as you’re pulled from his body.

But the moment he’s finished, you bury yourself back into his arms, smiling to yourself when you feel his chest vibrate from laughter.

Asher and Harry continue their quiet conversation as they clean themselves. Still, you can’t quite decipher the distinct words or topic of conversation, but do manage to make out one exchange in particular:

“Are you sure?” Asher asks.

“Always,” Harry whispers. “We will always be hers.”

Once thoroughly bathed, they help you step out, and lead you back to the bedroom. Harry is there to put you in clean underwear and one of his shirts while Asher gathers his things and heads back to the living room to keep watch for the night.

“Sleepy girl,” Harry hums as he lays you onto the mattress before slipping in behind you. “M’so fucking proud of you, honey. Thank you for letting us make you feel good.”

And you giggle to yourself, confused as to why Harry would need to thank you for something like that. “Always.”

He chuckles as well.

Sometime in the night, long after you’ve fallen asleep, you feel a particular and familiar chill travel up your cunt and settle in your stomach.

After shaking the sleep from your mind, you push up onto your elbows and glance down.

You see Harry’s tattooed arm peeking out from between the blankets, rolling and flexing in time with the blissfully sweet ministrations between your thighs.

Then, you see Harry.

“Shh,” he whispers, leaning closer to press his lips to your jaw. “M’sorry, mama. But I need one more. Need your last one to belong to me.”

You smile as you nuzzle into him, nodding quickly in support. “Please, Har…”

“I know,” he replies, trailing his tongue down your neck. “Gonna make it better.”

With that, he takes his hand from your cunt only to wrap his fingers around the fabric of your underwear…and rip.

It snaps from your body as you gasp and instantly wiggly against the mattress, still sensitive from everything else before.

Then…he tosses it toward the shadows in the corner of the room.

Your eyes follow the lace as it’s flung through the air, choking on a whimper when you see a hand quickly outstretch to capture it.

Asher.

He’s sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, smirking at you both as you attempt to work out what you’re seeing. The soft light from the moon outside the window cascades across the side of his face. Just enough for you to make out his intrigued expression.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he calls, and the teasing but always caring sound of his voice makes you sigh contently.

“Hold these for me, yeah?” Harry instructs his partner, who nods and tucks the underwear into his fist.

Then, Harry’s attention returns to you.

“Think you can give me another?” he murmurs, grinning down at you with so much love, it makes your chest ache.

You shiver as the tips of his fingers return to your clit.

“Always.”

God, why do I love them??? Technically this is the end but I will be doing blurbs because I am needy and cannot let them go!!!

Thank you to everyone that's read and been so kind!!! I appreciate you so much!! As does Asher, who would not have had such an important role if it weren't for all of his fans!! 💞💞

Next Part:

~ Remedy* (A Mine Extra)

Previous Parts:

~ Mine* (Pt. 1)

~ Ours* (Pt. 2)

~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

~ Theirs* (Pt. 4)

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tag List:

@vamprry @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virqinvirgo @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles concept #harry styles smut #smut #harry styles fanfic #fan #fanfic #mafiarry #mafia!harry #harry styles mafia #harry and asher

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is-the-thing-actually-jewish · 2 months ago

Note

Thanks for your help with head coverings-by-devorah.

Is the site https://hebrewnations.com/ actually Jewish?

It’s giving me weird vibes.

(My jumblr is @tzipporahs-well.)

Rating: Not Jewish (and also extremely racist and bonkers)

You are right about the weird vibes, it is in the category of what we would call "Biblical pseudoscience". Hebrewnations.com is an offshoot of Brit-Am, an organization headed by Yair Davidiy. The sole mission of Brit-Am is to "prove" that different nations and ethnic groups around the world are actually part of the lost Ten Tribes, which also involves greatly misinterpreting other Indigineous groups' beliefs and origins. On his LinkedIn, Yair Davidiy lists absolutely no qualifications- he calls himself a Rabbi, and yet no Rabbinical school is listed. He calls himself an expert in biblical archaeology, and yet no program is listed, not even a BS or BA.

Yair Davidiy can also be found on Atlantipedia, a pseudoscience website that promotes archaeologicial misinformation, and that's a damning enough fact.

Among his many outlandish claims, Yair Davidiy identifies the French as the tribe of Reuven, the Celts as Shimon, the Italians as Levi (nevermind that Levites are still around today), the Finns as Yissachar, Holland as Zevulun, the Goths as Dan, the Norwegians as Naftali, the Swedes as Gad, the Vandals as Asher, the Scythians as Yosef, and the Normans as Binyamin. (Nevermind that Binyamin was not included in the lost Ten Tribes).

Davidiy also claims that Mashiach ben Yosef will actually be found among the Anglo-Saxons, which he uses interchangably with white USAmericans.

He claims:

There will be a future re-union of Judah and Joseph. Neither the MALBIM nor Rabbi Schneerson were consciously aware that JOSEPH is to be identified with the "Anglo-Saxon" related peoples, i.e. the British, North Americans, and their "colonial" cousins. Nevertheless, their description of the relationship between Judah and Joseph finds some parallels in recent times with that between the Jews and the "Anglo-Saxon" nations. As pointed out in our book “Ephraim” (1995, 2001), the "Anglo-Saxon" nations are really the only cultural-ethnic bloc that is capable (barring supernatural miracles) of physically fulfilling the role ascribed to "Joseph" in Jewish sources. They are the only ones capable of defeating the combined forces of Edom (Germany and Europe) and Ishmael (the Moslem peoples) in armed confrontation. They are also the only ones who unto now have actively assisted the Jews in settling the Land of Israel. They have taken this task upon themselves almost as part of an obligation springing from their own national heritage. This point holds true despite mistaken and negative stands often taken by certain politicians and national leaders in America and Britain against the Jewish-Israelis. There are some bad Israelites, some bad Jews, and some bad people of other origins in Israelite nations. The "Anglo-Saxon" nations in the past have proved themselves capable of successfully organizing the orderly and secure mass movement of their own peoples in settling them overseas, in new countries. Eventually a re-union between Joseph and Judah will take place. The sooner the better.

Essentially, he has created a pseudo-religion of his own, based in American exceptionalism. He has also allied himself with the American Evangelical Christians who only support Israel because they believe it will bring about the end of times that will purge any non-Christian from the earth (including Jews). He also frequently uses the (Christian) King James Bible translation of the 'Old Testament', which is of course concerning for someone who claims to promote Jewish ideas.

The only good thing is that he doesn't seem to have much of a following.

So, as far as we know, Yair Davidiy is a Jew, but his organization and ideas most certainly are not.

#general category topic #jumblr #not actually jewish #christianity #pseudoscience #hebrewnations.com #racism #supercessionism

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caramelt4me · 3 months ago

Text

Secret. - Part IV

(Yandere Idol X Kidnapped Reader)

Trigger warning: mention of sexual themes, gaslighting, manipulation, implied violence and mental health ab*se

·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Prologue Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V

𝕋he muted hum of the TV filled the quiet living room as you aimlessly scrolled through the endless list of movie options, each flick of the remote accompanied by a restless sigh. Your eyes strayed repeatedly toward the guestroom door—still closed, much to your disappointment.

You glanced at the clock, taking note of the time once again.

Thirty-seven minutes.

Thirty-seven minutes had passed since Asher excused himself to check on Nex—a task that shouldn’t have taken more than twenty. But he seemed to break his own record each time.

It had been three days since your lover had dropped the bomb on you that the maknae from his work would be staying at the cabin for a while to recover from a near-fatal overdose.

Of course, it was understandable. You recalled the worried look that would occasionally cross Asher’s face when he mentioned the youngest’s spiralling addiction. Still, you couldn’t help the guilt-ridden frustration gnawing at you.

The cabin was supposed to be your sanctuary—a private retreat for just the two of you.

Or so you had thought.

Shouldn’t he have at least discussed this with you?

You didn’t like the idea of another man in your space, a space that was meant for you both. As much as you understood the need for confidentiality, you couldn’t fathom why Nex couldn’t be placed in a top-notch rehab facility that could handle both his recovery and the secrecy.

Sure, your selfless lover knew a thing or two about caring for those with psychological needs, thanks to you. But that thought only fuelled your irritation.

Were you just another charity case to him?

Was there no distinction between Nex and you in his eyes?

With a huff, you let the remote clatter onto the coffee table, abandoning your futile search for a film for your seemingly ‘postponed until further notice’ movie date.

But then, a wave of guilt washed over you as the intrusive thoughts spiralled.

When had you become so selfish?

Just a while ago—if you remembered correctly, you were the one urging him not to give up on Nex, to not let the drug scandal ruin his life—You had whispered words of encouragement, pleading with the silent disappointed Asher to give the youngest one last chance to fight his demons.

But that was then.

The last chance was over the moment he tried to overdose.

Your bitter inner voice justified the thought as you shut your eyes, attempting to will away the irritation and guilt with an angry nap. Asher wasn’t coming out of that guestroom anytime soon, and you knew it.

Your thoughts drifted back to the day five days ago when you had fainted—recollecting the time Asher had excused himself to take the call. It was definitely about Nex. It had to be. He didn't want you to feel guilty for trusting the maknae, you reasoned. But your mind wouldn’t let it go, dragging you even further back into memory.

You recalled a seemingly ordinary night, curled up in Asher's arms.

As your lover spooned you in his arms, his husky voice teased in your ear about how softer and cuddlier you had gotten while he had been away.

You nudged him sharply with your elbow—looking annoyed yet flustered as you warned him to not fat-shame you. But on the inside, you didn’t need an introduction to his azure love-stricken eyes as they lingered on your figure; nothing too remarkable or noteworthy apart from the self-doubt that stemmed from it—yet to him, it was an epitome of human perfection.

He kissed your neck deeply, his lips making sure to leave a visible mark—as in the meantime, his one hand gently unbuttoned the top of your nightdress, while the other tugged your hair behind to prevent it from getting in his way. Once he had free access to your cleavage, his lips moved to taste the soft subtle skin of your bosom—earning a little gasp from your bashful lips. Your little protests were as insincere as your blushing cheeks—unable to hide how enticed you were by the raw primal look in his icy eyes, as he nibbled on your flushed skin.

“You taste sweeter than caramel, baby,” He cooed in between, his tongue darting out lick his lips hungrily. “Tell me, what have you been up to really these past two days to become so irresistibly delicious?”

You cringed aloud at his cheesy line, your hands diving into his thick dark hair in an attempt to push him away. But it only made him cling tighter, his arms wrapping around your waist like a vice. His angelic face pressed against your chest as he took a deep inhale of your scent, his voice dropping to a needy murmur.

“I missed you so much, baby.”

His obsidian blues sought out yours, his fingers clumsily cupping your face as he gazed at you with a vulnerability that left you momentarily stunned. His proximity made your knees weak, yet the warmth of his embrace was your safe haven.

“Did you miss me too?” he asked, his voice soft and hopeful.

“Hm,” Was all you managed to say—the words caught in your throat as you suddenly felt too self-conscious to even converse properly. But that didn’t deter your lover from trying to get the answer he was looking for.

“Did you miss me as much as I missed you?” He purred lowly, getting closer to your ear—his hot breath fanning your flustered skin.

Your breath hitched, as you watched him lean back –his lustful blue eyes eagerly waiting for the words of confirmation to spill out from your timid mouth so that he could claim it in a heartbeat, but instead you seemed to have found another loophole—and nodded in quick approval.

Asher groaned in mock despair, resting his head on your shoulder like a child denied his favourite treat. Your lips curled into a mischievous smile, but you quickly dropped it once he looked back at you.

“Why are you always so mean?” he pouted, his nose brushing yours endearingly. Yet, your nerves must have been truly made of steel in that moment—to be able to glance away from his heart-wrenching gaze.

“I can’t wait to see you again the moment I leave your side,” he murmured, his voice a mix of playful accusation and raw yearning. “And you… you probably wouldn’t even notice if I were gone for a month or two, would you?” Your silence teased him, and his dramatic sigh made you chuckle despite yourself.

Alas, if only the past Asher knew how clingy you would get after not seeing him for two weeks in the future—let alone two months.

“Be honest,” he urged, his brows furrowing. “Don’t you ever watch my performance clips when you miss me? Fancams, even?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, masking your growing smile.

“The disrespect!” he gasped, before breaking into a grin of his own as he playfully tackled you, all pretence forgotten.

Perhaps back then, you should have told him the real reason why you avoided the crumbs of his life as an idol. Maybe then, he would have understood, maybe even been considerate enough to not leave you hanging in the living room while he disappeared behind the closed door to sort things for Nex.

But what could you have said, really?

That you wished, with every fibre of your being, for him to never leave your side—not even for a second? That the sight of others touching him, joking with him, sharing the smallest parts of him, felt like an unbearable intrusion? That you purposely avoided digging into his world, avoided learning too much about his group members or his public persona, just to preserve the illusion that he was yours alone?

Could you admit aloud that you felt a near-physical urge to keep anyone, human or otherwise, from getting too close to him?

Would Asher still love you if he knew what kind of creature you really were?

The thought coiled around your heart like a vice, a twisted cocktail of insecurity and paranoia. You told yourself he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not if he knew the depths of your possessiveness or the shadows of your doubt.

Perhaps that was the true reason you were tucked away in the cabin—not for your sake, but for his safety.

You often thanked whatever force had granted you this gift of botched memories, your fragmented mind offering a second chance to rewrite the wrongs you were certain you had committed. In the shards of your past, there was one constant—Asher. That unshakable certainty only convinced you further that you had always been obsessed with him, long before you became his lover.

The thought haunted you—You weren’t one of his many fans.

No, at least not a real one.

—But perhaps, a stalker.

Someone who didn’t see Asher as an idol, but rather an object of obsession.

You were no muse like Mary from Guilty Files—but the depraved artist herself.

Had you wormed your way into his life, manipulated him, crafted lies so intricate that even he had believed them?

It made sense. It explained why someone as radiant as Asher would devote himself so completely to someone as unworthy as you. Surely, you had hijacked his heart, forcefully binding him to you in a web of manipulation. And now, it was far too late to undo the spell.

So, you stayed hidden. Out of sight. You told yourself it was penance, the least you could do. You convinced yourself to be content with the mere fact that he still visited you in the cabin, despite everything.

But the medicine, perhaps too effective—may have muddled your thoughts, blurring guilt and regret into anger and betrayal. A sense of déjà vu washed over you, leaving you feeling wronged, betrayed—only to come full circle as you remembered a version of the tale your fractured mind would patch together from time to time.

If only you knew that you had the whole story flipped around.

A wave of self-hatred washed over you. Guilt, the heaviest it had ever felt—settled in your frail chest—threatening to burst out and spill any moment then. The realization—even though faux, was a gut-wrenching blow to your conscience.

Panic set in as you struggled to breathe—your heart pounding in your ears, a frantic drumbeat echoing the chaos within. Hot tears streamed down your face, blurring your vision. You gasped for air into the endless void, your lungs constricting with each desperate breath. But just as the darkness threatened to swallow you whole, you jolted awake from your nightmare—gasping for air, before your terror-stricken eyes met Asher’s worried-sick blues.

Without missing a beat, your arms wrapped tightly around him, instinct taking over as you panted, your body trembling and drenched in cold sweat. The frantic rhythm of your kisses—pressed sloppily against his neck and cheeks—betrayed the panic clawing at your chest. You didn’t notice the soft nonsense Asher murmured to soothe you; the only thing grounding you was his warmth.

But then the thought hit you, sharp and cruel—

A parasite.

You were nothing but a filthy leech sucking off his life.

The word echoed in your mind, making you freeze mid-movement. Your frantic kisses stopped as you pressed your face against his neck, seeking refuge, too afraid to speak or to confront the spiralling chaos of your self-loathing thoughts.

Asher’s response was immediate, his voice calm and familiar as he cooed to you, one hand gently patting the back of your head while the other traced soothing circles on your back. He didn’t need you to explain; he knew the way your mind would play tricks on you once in a while to paint you the villain—when in reality, you were right in his arms, being lulled by him.

A bittersweet pang hit him as he held you, watching you mourn for sins you believed were yours—when in truth, the guilt was his to bear. The weight of his lies, his actions, should have crushed him, but instead, he felt a strange satisfaction as you clung to him so tightly, almost desperately—making him an utter blushing fool.

He couldn’t deny it—part of him loved these moments when your self-control slipped, when your nails dug into his skin or your teeth left marks he’d savour for days after. Those fleeting bruises became his secret treasures, physical proof that he belonged to you as much as you belonged to him.

He wanted to claim your lips badly enough, but then his icy blues flickered to finally acknowledge the elephant in the room—or rather, the awkward maknae, who was contemplating where to look while you two were getting comfortable.

As the bubble of intimacy shattered, Asher sighed reluctantly. He placed a light kiss on your temple before leaning back slightly to meet your oblivious, still-teary eyes.

“Baby,” he began, his tone gentle but firm, “I want you to meet Nex. He’s feeling well enough to finally come out of his room.”

The words lingered in the air as you reluctantly turned, meeting the maknae’s hesitant grey eyes for the first time.

___

The rhythmic crash of waves against the shore provided a soothing backdrop to the otherwise still evening. Damian leaned against the cool metal railing of his sea-facing apartment balcony. A wisp of smoke curled upwards from the cigarette held loosely between his fingers, disappearing into the twilight sky.

His dark chocolate eyes, shadowed by a tousled fringe, flickered over the screen of his phone. A quick text to Jay, a fellow soloist and industry friend, confirmed Theo and his attendance at the upcoming birthday bash. A brief smile played on his lips as he tapped out a message on Theo's behalf.

With a satisfied sigh, he extinguished the cigarette, the orange ember fading into the darkness. Then, he glanced at his reflection in the dark screen of his phone—running a hand through his messy hair, as a wry smile played on his lips.

“I need a bath,” He commented under his breath as he checked out his dishevelled appearance. Just as he slipped his phone into the pocket, a notification buzzed to life. It was from the group’s social media manager, a flurry of posts awaiting his approval as the leader.

He sighed lightly, a new cigarette finding its way between his lips as he ignited it with a practiced flick of his lighter and inhaled deeply.

Getting his phone out, he unlocked it with a simple touch—no password or ID to bypass unlike his industry peers.

A slight frown creased his brow as he noticed an error in one of the posts. A quick text to his manager, a concise correction, and the issue was resolved.

With a final drag, he extinguished the cigarette, the smoke swirling around him as he stepped back inside—his dark eyes flickered briefly to the clock, then darted—almost unconsciously—to the faintly blinking blue lights nestled at the back of his personal library and study table. Even hidden within a cabinet of his wardrobe, the surveillance cameras would have gone unnoticed by anyone less observant.

However, Damian’s expression betrayed nothing—his face remaining calm, almost bored. It was as though he had expected the intrusion.

Gathering a fresh pair of PJs from his wardrobe, he carried them under one arm while placing his phone on the study table. With a quick swipe, he connected it to the Bluetooth speaker. Moments later, the bathroom filled with an almost absurdly cheerful jingle—a playlist he reserved for his extremely long bathtime.

It was as if he wanted the not-so secret onlooker to lose interest over time—pay less attention to him at least during that time of the day.

The bathroom door clicked shut behind him. Damian’s sharp brown eyes immediately scanned the room, scrutinizing every corner and crevice for any newly installed cameras or suspicious additions. Finding none, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

His fingers worked swiftly, clawing at the edges of a seemingly ordinary tile on the wall. With a subtle tug, the tile came loose, revealing a concealed compartment. Inside lay a burner phone, a plain black diary, noise-cancelling earbuds, and a few essential stationery items.

He retrieved the earbuds first, slipping them into his ears to drown out the cloying, brain-rotting jingle still playing over the speaker. Once cocooned in silence, Damian powered on the burner phone and unlocked it, the screen illuminating his features as he opened his inbox under a fake email address.

He was expecting two specific emails.

The first message caught his attention, and his brows furrowed as he read its contents. A quiet huff escaped him. Just as he had suspected—there was no record of Nex being checked into any rehab overseas.

It wasn’t hard to confirm.

A pink-haired, strikingly attractive Korean male, contractually obligated to maintain his appearance until the group’s next comeback, wouldn’t exactly blend into obscurity. Moreover, Nex was scheduled to resume solo activities in two weeks—a timeline that didn’t align with a genuine rehab stint. Damian’s jaw tightened.

Nex was missing.

And, unsurprisingly, the CEO was helping cover up the truth.

Again, for Asher.

Grabbing his diary, he jotted down the key details, his pen tapping rhythmically against the paper as his mind raced to connect the dots.

But why Nex?

Either him or Theo should have been targeted, if at all by the eldest—both the younger members were silent during the tense exchange after their last tour. Isolating the maknae made no sense, Damian thought, biting his nail out of habit in deep thought—when suddenly, his eyes widened as it struck him. Unless,

Nex had been foolish enough to mention the Cabin directly to Asher.

“That idiot,” he muttered under his breath, tossing the diary aside and grabbing the burner phone again. His mind couldn’t help but expect the worst.

He scrolled to the second email; one he had initially dismissed as unimportant. Anxiety coiled in his chest as he opened the message, fingers trembling slightly as he tapped on the attached PDF.

The forensic lab report loaded slowly, each passing second grating against his nerves. When it finally opened, Damian’s frown deepened.

The blood type matched Nex’s, not Asher’s—evidence enough that the maknae had been the one bleeding. However, there was no trace of unmetabolized drugs in his system. This ruled out an overdose before the incident in the bathroom.

But the next line puzzled him further. The white, powdery substance scattered across the floor wasn’t a narcotic.

It was sugar.

Specifically, sucrose and tricalcium phosphate—common ingredients in icing sugar.

For a moment, Damian stared at the report, thinking it had to be a mistake or some sort of cruel joke. He scrolled through the document again, searching for any mention of drugs, but all the samples he had discreetly swabbed from Nex’s bathroom contained only blood and sugar.

Sugar? Really?

Damian leaned back, tapping his pen against his chin. Something didn’t add up. He replayed the scene in his mind, recalling the smeared blood and the faint trail of dragged footsteps. Nex hadn’t been conscious when he was moved—of that, he was sure. But why sugar? It felt like a bluff, almost playful, as though Asher’s initial plan was to just mock the maknae into sense—but then he ended up kidnapping the latter.

“Too sweet of him,” Damian muttered, his voice laced with sarcasm.

What was the point of it all? Torture? Intimidation? If so, why risk exposing his secret by releasing the maknae just after two weeks? Was this just another round in their cat-and-mouse game?

Or was there something far more sinister at work this time?

The question lingered, a persistent thorn in Damian's mind. His gut, ever reliable, told him that the supposed ‘Cabin hostage’ was at the heart of it all.

Asher had been “well-behaved” for too long, even helpful in recent months to uplift the group’s image—like a ticking bomb biding its time before it exploded.

What if his meddling had been the spark to reawaken the blue-eyed Devil?

The thought gnawed Damian’s mind, twisting his gut with an uneasy mix of guilt and fear. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his attempt to uncover the truth had only fed the fire lurking within Asher’s cold, calculated demeanour.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Damian shoved the burner phone, diary, and earbuds back into the secret compartment. He pressed the tile into place, ensuring it left no trace of its existence.

Then, stripping off his clothes, he stepped into the shower. The icy water crashed against his skin, a sharp contrast to the heat of his racing mind. He tilted his head back, letting the cold torrent drown out the cacophony of theories spiralling through his thoughts.

___

The car screeched to a halt at the signal, tires squealing slightly against the asphalt. A heavy silence filled the interior, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the dashboard clock. Damian sat in the driver’s seat, brown eyes staring blankly out the window, his mind elsewhere.

He was going back to the scene—back to Nex’s apartment.

Damian knew Asher and his ever-loyal right hand, Manager Baek, were fully aware of his last visit. Yet, it didn’t stop him.

Unlike his growing suspicion about Asher holding someone captive at a cabin, Damian had been careful not to let the other members catch on to one of Asher’s more disturbing habits—the on-and-off bugging of their phones and apartments. It was a relatively new development, cropping up in the past year and a half since the oldest’s long hiatus.

He had always made a point not to pry into the strange habits and obsessions of his members. Each had their quirks, their unique ways of coping with stress, and as the group’s leader, he felt it was his duty to preserve their fragile sense of brotherhood.

That’s what he told himself, anyway.

But then came the overheard conversations—Manager Baek on the phone with Asher, his words dripping with secrecy. Mentions of a cabin, of “her,” and of extensive grocery lists for deliveries.

The details painted a troubling picture—Asher was holding someone hostage.

With even a child, perhaps, he thought—misinterpreting Asher’s use of “Baby”.

He tried to rationalize the rest.

They were all teetering on the spectrum of insanity, weren’t they? Obsession, paranoia, secrecy—it came with the territory of their high-stakes, suffocating lives as K-pop idols. But even in his skewed perspective, Damian recognized that kidnapping and captivity crossed a line, even if substance abuse didn’t.

That’s where he’d made his first mistake.

He had voiced his concerns to Theo in the green room, hoping his hot-headed but loyal bandmate might provide some clarity. But before he could finish explaining, the other two members had walked in, overhearing enough to shatter the tenuous silence that kept their group functioning.

Asher hadn’t been there—it was one of his rare days off—but the damage was done. Now, Nex was missing, and Damian was certain Asher was behind it.

And it was all his fault.

If only he’d turned a blind eye, like always.

If only he hadn’t interfered.

The self-recriminating thoughts echoed as Damian stepped out of the elevator at Nex’s building, moving on autopilot, spare keys in hand. But his steps faltered as he approached the door.

There, slumped against the wall, was a familiar blonde figure—dishevelled and ghastly pale, he instantly recognized. “Clade?”

@shadowytravelerlover

#male yandere x reader #soft yandere #stockholm syndrome #yandere idol #yandere scenarios #yandere male #sub!yandere #sub yandere #yandere x darling #possessive #obsessive love #obsessive yandere

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aggro-my-beloved · 7 months ago

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Asher + Babe HC’s

＊ after their first meeting, asher volunteered himself to do any and all miscellaneous errands involving paperwork and notarization if it meant going back to baabe’s place of work so he could chance running into them again

＊ they even timed each other’s schedules in order to squeeze in tens of lunch dates through the week before making anything official. one thing that took baabe by surprise during these rendezvous, though, was the same request asher gave to each waiter/waitress.

＊ baabe supposed hot sauce wasn’t that odd of a condiment to put on his burger, but amidst their fourth date when he was loading it on top of his mashed potatoes, they had questions.

＊ asher has grave mouth. his tastebuds are basically useless from all the sour candy he consumed as a child/teen. he can drink lemon juice straight without puckering. this info shut baabe right up, but left them satisfied.

＊ to ensure his meals aren’t entirely bland, he puts hot sauce on almost everything he eats. this has led to some questionable, if not disgusting combinations he has sworn against—including, but not limited to sriracha-topped waffles and red hot chocolate

＊ the pack beta also likes to skateboard, baabe disovered. cmon, they live in california—it was between skating and surfing and this man burns too easy at the beach. his mate would be lying if they said they didn’t admire his freckled face from time to time, though.

＊ give him a shovel on malibu’s finest sand though? he’d dig a hole so big it’d be considered a safety hazard. and he did, the one time he and baabe went on their shared day off. the lifeguard had to come and stop him, urging baabe to glance up from their magazine and gape at the trench a dangerous proximity from their beach chair.

＊ once they did leave, asher was sulking about how he could’ve made the hole so much bigger and deeper (hehehe) had he been shifted and able to use his paws and let primal instinct kick in. baabe consoled him with ice cream and an aloe massage later on, promising they’d try for a private beach and a higher spf sunscreen the next time around

＊ long-haired babe’s go to hairstyle is space burns. asher adores the style on them so much he asked for them to do the same to his hair. it didn’t turn out similar in the slightest (more like two tiny pigtails sticking out lopsided atop his head) but he was happy with the results and that’s all that mattered.

＊ “hell yeah, baaabe! you can’t even tell us apart!”

＊ the only way baaabe can remember to practice self-care is when asher reminds them. sometimes he’ll point out a soothing face mask in the store’s cosmetic aisle or run them a hot bath, but the only way for baaabe to fully indulge is if they offer asher to join them in the activity. and he always says yes, otherwise the task will be long forgotten on his mate’s part. and asher would be caught in a lie to say he didn’t want to see how that one bath bomb in particular fizzled out into the water.

＊ when the weather starts cooling down in the fall, asher likes to take walks in his wolf form. so baaabe can join him in public, they modified his spiked choker to act as a dog collar that baaabe can add a leash to, so no unempowered humans get suspicious at the sight of him. that’s right. asher is babe’s scary dog privelage.

＊ he gets a little too eager and excited on these walks though, best believe he’s pulling his mate down the sidewalk 90263692634962692 mph to take in everything while baabe tries not to stagger or fall flat on their face

＊ after several failed attempts at this, they repurpose ash’s skateboard as a mode of transportation for baabe to safely ride on as asher pulls them down the sidewalk. a much better solution than their twelve-year old heelies shoes that were falling apart at the seams.

＊ asher and baaabe are the only couple in the pack that collectively like horror movies/games/media. the only exception for baabe is haunted houses, which both discovered one fateful october at Dahlia’s local amusement park. one of the scare actors frightened baabe so badly, they left with a broken nose, and baabe with a bruised set of knuckles on their right hand.

＊ asher was quick to comfort them during the embarrassing ordeal, but just as quick to laugh and tease them about it later on. he’d be saying shit about how “you should’ve dressed as rocky with an uppercut like that”

＊ once they did leave, baabe sulked, arguing that “zombies are a different type of scary than werewolves and vampires—it was all self defense!” asher consoled them with ice cream later, promising no more haunted houses in the future for the sake of baabe’s hands and innocent workers’ noses alike.

〈 TLDR: baaabe and asher are adorkably sweet together and both love ice cream 〉

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted shaw pack #redactedverse #redacted fluff #redacted headcanons #redacted asher #redacted fanfic #redacted baabe #redacted characters #redacted fanfiction #redacted imagined #redacted au

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mr-1-2-3-4 · 5 months ago

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My Shadows, KorTac until, and task force 141 OCs, sexuality and pronouns

Beny “Pixel” Tomson-

Sexuality:Pansexual, Polyamorous

Pronouns:He/Him/They

Love life:doesn’t know anymore

Ashley “Ash” Lead-

Sexuality:Lesbian, Polyamorous

Pronouns:She/Her

Love life:single

Kyle “Buddy” Poker-

Sexuality:Gay

Pronouns:He/Him/They/Them

Love life:has a crush on Manny

Teddy-

Sexuality:Gay

Pronouns:He/Him

Love life:doesn’t know anymore

Xavier “Asher”-

Sexuality:Bisexual

Pronouns:He/Him

Love life:single

James “Oak” Holly-

Sexuality:Gay, Polyamorous

Pronouns:He/Him

Love life:simps for Peaches

Manny-

Sexuality:Bisexual (in the closet)

Pronouns:He/Him

Love life:now single (Makarov killed Manny’s lover while trying to kill Manny in the past)

(Hope I spelled everything correctly👍)

#shadow company #task force 141 #kortac #pixel (cod oc)#oak (cod oc)#ash (oc)#asher (cod oc)#manny (cod oc)#buddy (cod oc)#call of duty #gacha oc #gacha life 2 #gacha #i was bored so i made this

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fragmcntedsouls · 8 months ago

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asher simmons ✦ task004 ✦ playlist

#i have survived but i have not been spared | | asher simmons: task #exitium.task004

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jensettermandu · 1 year ago

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-𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚-

-𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥, 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡-

1.2

previous - m.list - next

𝘨!𝘱 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

content warning; MDNI, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships.

chapter wc: 11k+

"I haven't had time, so I would appreciate it if we could at least go at it once." This time she asked with her nicest voice. Y/n tilted her head as she looked at the mess she created in Jennie's sweats–she would lie if she said that she wasn't wet and her clit wasn't throbbing. It was especially hot after seeing Jennie be the mess she was while also being back to calling her these names and manhandling her.

[Three days ago]

It was nothing new to bring someone back to the hotel room when the parties were over for Jennie. She hadn't been doing it as often anymore since she had someone back in the city who satisfied her needs. It seemed difficult to get satisfied by someone else, or worse.

The woman under her was completely naked as Jennie continued to kiss her with only her boxers left to restrain her cock. She pressed against her heat, her hands roaming her body, lips not leaving her skin as nails gently dragged along her back. Jennie was doing everything, all the things she always did and knew she was good at. All the things that always got her dick hard. The billionaire wasn't only good at making money, no, she was also great at pleasuring after growing addicted to sex because it was better than drugs and alcohol, but better when those two were involved.

"Just fuck me already," Jennie looked up at the complaint as she had been kissing and groping at her chest and all her other parts. To the eye the woman was good looking, she was sexy and beautiful because Jennie didn't just settle for anyone. Men and women would drool over the model or even pay to have her in bed–Jennie knew because she had paid models to sleep with her. Most of them took it because they needed the money and who wouldn't take thousands upon thousands if not millions in exchange for sex? Jennie liked to have something to brag about such as fucking an unobtainable model. Money didn't get her as excited anymore now that she was drowning in it.

She collected women.

Jennie licked her lips and was about to grab hold of the model's hand but she was faster when she cupped her.

There was one problem—

"You're not even hard."

None of these women were the vixen back home.

Where Jennie had never felt hesitation, guilt, or stress, she hand found herself drowning in it. What came naturally felt like a task now when it wasn't that one body that was so familiar to her.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" The model exclaimed, clearly offended and Jennie yanked her hand away from her cock that had barely grown hard. Her jaw clenched as she took in breaths to not let embarrassment wash over her or the anger. She wasn't sure who she was angry at anymore. The model, herself, or Y/n...Or maybe even Asher who was keeping Jennie from being able to see the girl whenever she wanted to. Jennie didn't like having to wait for turns, but she did, God, she did and she felt pathetic, but she took every chance she had to dick Y/n down once her man left her for a few hours or days.

The feline tried to blame it on the drugs and alcohol.

"Shut the fuck up." She gritted out and reached for her shirt that was thrown on the corner of the bed before pulling it over her head. She took her pants and pulled them on too, not zipping them up as she would head to the shower once the woman left. It was truly humiliating for Jennie, it made her insecure and the model wouldn't consider that it did. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't grow an erection even if she wanted to. She tried her best by taking her time.

"You just wasted like an hour of my time for this. Why would you bring someone over if you can't even get it up." The woman argued as she started to gather her clothes. Jennie's nose twitched as she sat at the edge of the bed with her fists clenching in anger. It wasn't anything in her system, she hadn't gotten drunk and had barely taken any drugs aside from a few white lines like she always did. There was only one explanation and it had never happened to her before.

Jennie had been in relationships and she knew that she hadn't stayed faithful in them because her dick always sprung to life when she saw someone hot who would look her way. It made her forget love the second a girl got on her knees to suck her off. Her love only lasted for the night, it always had.

"Shut the fuck up you bimbo-looking slut! I fucking brought you over and that's more than you will ever fucking accomplish in your life." Jennie snapped and stood up, glaring at the woman who was slipping her dress back on.

"You can't even accomplish an erection which is pathetic enough–no one's gonna waste their time on you anymore." The model bellowed, and Jennie felt it wash over her. The anger consumed her from how the girl was disrespecting her and when she was about to pass she grabbed hold of her wrist and forced her to face her.

"You're not fucking telling anyone about this or I will fucking ruin your career in a second." She threatened the woman as she didn't need it to spread to everyone that she couldn't even get her dick semi-hard. It was going around that she was making women cum left and right, and that she knew exactly how to blow someone's back or use her tongue. It would ruin her reputation when it came to this. For the last few women she had slept with, Jennie had to fake her orgasms and throw the condoms away before they could check if she truly had finished because she grew soft before she was able to finish. It was draining her and the frustrations only grew more, she had reached her peak, and the anger was boiling out of the lid that would blow up.

"Let go of me or they will get to know about this too."

"I told you something and you say that you fucking understand unless you want your career dead!" Jennie's voice boomed through the suite as her grip tightened on the woman's wrist. That anger came without any control, the control she didn't have, but it controlled her life, she was a slave to her anger.

It happened right away as she slapped Jennie because the grip was numbing on her wrist, but Jennie's excuse was that she was already angry. The woman had already angered her and was only pushing more of her buttons. It was all her fault and not Jennie's when she barely flinched from the slap and used her strength when her knuckles itched before colliding with the model's face. It was out of her control in the end and it would have never happened if people listened right away.

Jennie maybe wasn't the biggest person, but she surely did work out and did practise boxing simply for her safety as it was recommended by her team. She could never know who would show up, but it also ended with other people hurt as the force was enough to make the younger woman drop to the floor. Jennie felt her heart pick up in rate like it always would in these situations where she seemingly had no control as the sobs filled the room. It never seemed to stop her though. It only fueled her because of the sense of power she got from it, those bad feelings got replaced with power, dominance, killing whatever challenge the woman tried to put up by even looking her in the eye when she was angry.

It was a curse, but it had been there so long that it felt like a reward.

"Get the fuck out before I break more than your nose and remember that no one would ever believe you over me unless you want legal trouble for defamation of character." She spat out, flailing her hand the slightest that she had used. In the end, Jennie had all the money and Jennie was known as someone with a pure and sweet soul that helped everything and everyone around her. From donations to charities to everything else in between.

No one would believe the girl below her whose nose was bleeding as she looked up at her terrified. It wasn't the first time she got that look. The look let her know that she wasn't the prey and it made her feel safe in her skin, it washed away the embarrassment and humiliation because the woman was scared of her.

"Are you deaf? Get the fuck out, good for nothing whore!" She snarled and watched how the crying girl got up from the floor, grabbing the rest of her stuff to hurry out. Jennie huffed and turned back to the bed with her pants resting at her hips and reached for her phone. She could hear the door slam closed as she opened the phone and looked through her contacts, unsure of who to contact, and what to prioritise. She was frustrated and slumped down onto the bed, sitting at the edge, it was just another lonely night.

Her fingers stumbled upon the name that was stuck to her like glue because she was stupid enough to let it happen. Jennie bit her lower lip and opened the messages she had with the vixen as she knew that she didn't answer phone calls after all the calls she dialled only to not be answered. These were lengths Jennie had never gone to and it was annoying her yet she kept going as she texted the girl.

1:01 AM Are you busy???

She exhaled deeply, waiting for an answer as she just stared ahead of herself, drowning in empty thoughts because she didn't want to think about what happened. The empty thought came to thoughts of wanting to conclude her problems, but she shut every one of them down because she was too rich and powerful to have these problems. She didn't believe in these things so they could never become real problems. The buzz of her phone that was resting on her thigh got her out of it though and she picked it back up.

1:07 AM Studying With Lisa The fuck do you want?

1:08 AM Nudes would suffice, or at least some kind of pictures to jerk off to

In the end, Jennie still felt sexually frustrated, it made the anger go away most of the time and she wouldn't be able to sleep unless she would at least cum in her hand or in the shower. Or maybe both depending on how many pictures she gets–

1:11 AM Have you heard of pornhub, onlyfans or even paying someone to come and suck you off?

1:11 AM Not the same, it's late and I am too busy

1:12 AM You can scroll up then

1:13 AM I want new ones, in red or black lingerie

1:15 AM The fuck do I look like to you? Not a wishing well I hope you slot machine-built bitch

1:15 AM Usually you remind me of a cumslut the way you get covered in it. The fuck do you mean by slot machine?

Jennie groaned as Y/n was working on her nerves and all she wanted was to wank her prick and then go to sleep. She could use her imagination or replay what they had done, but it wouldn't work when her mind was preoccupied with anger and then sex.

1:20 AM You shit money and spurt cum like a slot machine It's all you are good for, pathetic loser :PhotoAttachment1 :PhotoAttachment2 :VideoAttachment3 Here, this is all you get for being so demanding Go kill yourself after instead of texting me again<33

She truly had no clue why she was putting up with the attitude of the mean girl. With most women, she would show them their place and not have them disrespect her or she would kick them to the curb. Maybe it was because she couldn't afford to throw away someone who worked like Viagra on her dick. Or maybe because Y/n didn't seem tameable after the few times Jennie snapped only for the girl to snap right back. It was a challenge and Jennie always won them, this one has been taking longer to win though.

Jennie opened the pictures of the girl in lacy lingerie and she knew that it was just because she had asked for specific ones that Y/n sent her in white and navy blue. It didn't matter as she looked at them while she pushed herself up the bed and leaned back against the headboard. She pulled her pants lower together with her boxers. Her hand blindly reached to the side where the bottle of lube was standing just for these moments. She licked her lips, opening the video of the girl feeling herself with music playing in the background in nothing but white lingerie, her body slim, perfect small tits, long legs, tiny waist, and a body so perfect Jennie couldn't get enough as her hand was already stroking around her growing cock.

Her mind forgot about what happened as it never really mattered since she was invincible to these things damaging her. Instead thinking about how Y/n would work her hands on her thick length and let her release on her face and chest. Her mind was occupied with the girl, never did she think about a specific woman during her days, but now it was happening more often and it was always the same face.

[Present]

Jennie's cock was hard and leaking with salty precum once again, unable to keep it down when she was with Y/n. The younger girl was right beneath her with her clothes on the floor as Jennie continued to kiss her. The cock rested heavily on Y/n's thigh while Jennie's fingers ran through her folds, coating them in stickiness as her thumb found the swollen clit where she had gathered the wetness. Y/n hummed into Jennie's mouth when she reached two fingers down before she with ease slid them inside to get the girl ready for the cock as the stretch got painful at times from how tight she was.

"Fuck," Y/n breathed out as she pulled away from Jennie's lips, the woman slowly doing scissoring motions while rubbing at her g-spot, her thumb still working her clit.

"Tell me how good it feels when I touch you."

"So fucking good, Jennie–" She whined as her hips bucked into Jennie, a moan getting caught in her throat. She pressed harder on her clit, rubbing in just the right motion while stretching the girl with her fingers that continued to spread the tight and squelching hole. Her hips slightly bucked, rubbing herself against the smooth thigh, having a hard time holding back. She kissed down, Y/n tilting her head as she nipped at her skin, knowing that the girl would kill her naked in bed if she left a hickey. Last time she got thrown out with barely any clothes on for trying.

"Who else can make you feel this good? Who else can make you such a desperate whore, Y/n?" The girl under her whined, back arching off the bed as she wrapped her arms tighter around Jennie's back for some grip. It was quite the opposite as the younger girl would leave Jennie with bite and scratch marks that were bleeding at times. Their chests pressed together, and Jennie could feel the cold barbells pressing against her from the pierced nipples.

"No one, God— no one, I'm only a whore for you." Jennie hummed at the stinging of nails pushing into her shoulder blades as Y/n's thighs quivered and her breathing picked up. It was a sort of control that Jennie loved, she loved having this control over Y/n because she depended on her to get a good release.

She depended on her because no one had been able to fuck her right, not even the boyfriend who wasn't even hovering near her mind. All she could think about was the way Jennie pumped her fingers inside her, the way she rubbed at her walls, slowly stretching her to make sure her thick member would fit. Her thumb played with her clit and it was making her whole body tingle as she was nearing her orgasm. Her walls continued to clench as she whimpered and moaned for more. She had fallen for the wrong kind of thing, she had fallen for pleasure and it was all she wanted, it was all that mattered.

"You're so good, knowing what you are for me...A whore for me to empty into." At least she wished the girl would let her fill her hole with cum until it was leaking. To fuck it all right into her womb and leave her crying for more like she had done times before. Y/n let out another moan, her voice going up in pitch and making Jennie's dick twitch at the erotic sound. Her walls clasped around Jennie's two fingers and the heat washed over her body, her breathing coming to a stop for a few seconds as nails dug further into the skin from how she tensed up.

She looked at her, her head thrown back with her chest pressing against Jennie's. Her lips started to trail kisses along her jaw as she continued to work on her clit. "This is what you need, someone to fuck you right," Jennie grumbled, knowing that the guy wasn't able to satisfy Y/n the same way she did. She was the one who made her legs quiver, her back arch, and moans spill if not cries.

Y/n knew it too and she was risking losing both because of where she was stuck yet she continued to grasp at Jennie with her thighs quivering around the woman. The orgasm hit her hard in waves of pleasure and her vision turned black. Her walls pulsating from the aftershocks caused by the high Jennie was able to take her to by simply touching her right.

She slumped down, making Jennie slow down her movements as she continued to kiss along her jaw. Y/n lolled her head to the side and caught Jennie's wet lips with hers, tongues lethargically pressing against each other as her fingers now gently brushed over her shoulder blades and down to her back, feeling the muscles flex as Jennie moved. Her fingers pulled out of the snug and pulsating grip of her wet cunt and she rested both forearms on either side of the girl's head. Shuddering as her cock rested against the heat of the girl.

[Four months ago]

Jennie stopped the car outside the apartment complex and tapped her fingers against the wheel. The last time she had been outside of it was a week ago. It wasn't anything she usually did, but she felt like she needed to do some damage control. She felt like she had somewhat taken advantage when she decided to have sex with the girl who was on a high dose of Ecstasy. She didn't need Y/n to think the same and try to press any charges.

It wasn't like she hadn't had sex with anyone under the influence before, but in those instances, they had taken these drugs willingly–Jennie being under the same influence. The vixen got high on accident. Not only that but her number had been blocked by the younger girl. She just wanted to do damage control to see if it was because she had cheated or because of the circumstances the sex had been initiated under. If it was the second she would have to make sure the girl would be quiet by most likely bribing her, threatening if necessary.

She got out of the car and was shooting in the dark as she had no clue what the girl's last name even was. All she knew was her first name. With the hood up and sunglasses on she walked through the parking lot and towards the door where she had seen Y/n come out of. She was a bit nervous, she couldn't tell how it would go–if she would even find the right door.

It seemed as if luck was on her side when an elderly woman was slowly pushing the door open. Jennie picked up her steps and quickly grabbed the door, pulling it open for her.

"Thank you." She smiled at her and before she could walk out and walk away the billionaire spoke up.

"Wait—uhm you wouldn't happen to know Y/n?"

"Y/n?" The elderly woman questioned as she turned to look at Jennie, holding onto her walker. She quickly nodded her head.

"I go to the same college as her and she only sent me her address, my phone battery is out and I can't ask what door is hers." Jennie reached for her phone and showed the screen that was just turned off, pretending to push the power button on the side. Her lips pursing in feigned despair.

"Third floor under the names Y/l/n and Thomson."

"Thank you, have a good day." Jennie thanked the woman and quickly walked in, letting the door fall closed. She heaved a sigh to see that there was no elevator in the four-story building. With that she started to make her way up the stairwell, her footsteps leaving echoes after them.

She went over what to say in her head, what excuses to use for what happened, and what to offer if the excuses weren't enough. A couple of thousand or a million wouldn't even make a change to her bank account as she earned the money right back in a few minutes. The loud sounds of her sneakers colliding with the stairs stalled as she reached the third floor and huffed, pulling down her hood and pushing her sunglasses up to the top of her head.

She slowly walked along the way, scanning the few doors until her eyes landed on the one with the two last names that were mentioned. It made her stop for a second–she hadn't thought far enough about what she would do if it were the boyfriend who opened. She had no clue what she had told him and the one time she had seen him: she couldn't deny that he was probably four times her size.

It couldn't get that bad though.

Jennie knocked on the door and put her hands in the pockets of her loose jeans as she waited for it to open.

It wasn't opening and she took out her phone to look at the time.

Sunday, 2 p.m.

She reached her hand out and knocked once more to make sure in case it was because she hadn't heard her.

And she did so for a third time.

Finally, she heard some type of noise from the other side and took a step back. Expectantly she waited and the door finally opened to reveal the girl she had slept with last week. It felt almost odd to come face to face with someone she hooked up with. She never really did unless it was some sort of fling she would call over more than once. There was no need to stick to one girl when she could have a new one every day.

It followed with a groan and she scanned the girl whose hair was dripping with water and a towel wrapped around her chest, leaving her overly exposed. Jennie swallowed and with the hand that was still in her pocket adjusted her dick that twitched.

"What the fuck?"

The question flew out of Y/n's mouth, utterly confused about what the older woman was doing outside her door.

Jennie cleared her throat and looked up from the long legs where water was still dripping down. She would pay to lick them up and then continue up–

"I wanted to talk."

"About what?" Y/n's tone was somewhat harsh and it was so for a good reason. The woman whom she had blocked and hoped she would never see again was right in front of her. It didn't feel right. She had spent the past week crying and sleeping on the couch or at Lisa's place all while constantly fighting with her boyfriend because she had no clue what to do with what happened. There was no finish after the start because how did she finish a race like this when she had no clue what the finish line looked like?

"About what happened."

Y/n grumbled and stepped aside as maybe the finish would be talking it through with Jennie. Or maybe she just had to come clean to her boyfriend. Or maybe she was supposed to keep quiet about it for the rest of her life. In the end, it wasn't like her to cheat. She was guilty of harmless flirting with other people, but it was usually for the benefit of a broke college student who got free drinks because she was pretty. She never let anything go further.

Jennie nodded as she stepped inside, using the opportunity to adjust herself a bit better as Y/n's back was turned to her–the lock clicking.

"You have a cat." She pointed out the obvious, for a moment forgetting what she came for as the Russian blue scurried over to them.

"That's Vinci, he's a fucking menace so don't touch him–he only doesn't hate me." Y/n warned as she turned around to see Jennie already crouching down. She stepped around the woman, letting her deal with it as she had already warned her about what the cat was.

"You're being dramatic, look he's coming over to me," Jennie said as the cat rubbed himself on some furniture before heading right over to Jennie. Y/n shrugged and walked into the open living room, she leaned against the backrest of the couch and looked at the woman. It didn't feel right to let her inside the apartment, the home that was hers and Asher's, but she had already invited her to a different place after Jennie invited her to sin. It somewhat irked her that she was so bothered by it. She knew she deserved it, but to see Jennie not mind it at all made her realise that it was her mistake and her mistake only. She couldn't blame Jennie for cheating on her boyfriend.

"I warned you, he's not nice at all."

Jennie reached her hand out and yelped when the cat jumped onto it, biting it with claws digging into her hand, Vinci's back paws kicking at it. The cat tousled with her hand. "Fucking hell!" She exclaimed and pulled him away with her other hand before quickly standing up. It didn't seem to end as he started to attack the sleeves of her pants.

"Get him away." She called for help as she tried to gently push him away to not hurt the cat, but it didn't seem possible, the claws digging into the material of her jeans. Y/n heaved a sigh and pushed herself up as Jennie got backed up into the wall by the cat that was biting on her feet as she tried to get away.

"Come here, my baby." Y/n cooed at the devil of a cat that had left Jennie's hand with scratches, bite marks and some blood streaks. Her feet were in the same condition as her hand. She watched as the girl picked him up, kind of worried that he would do the same to her and leave her exposed clavicles a bloody mess, but all he did was purr and cling to her.

Y/n looked over at Jennie who inspected her hand.

"Told you so." She said. She had told her that the cat wasn't fond of anyone aside from her. Jennie huffed and followed after Y/n who walked back into the living area and let the cat down that ran right to his cat tree, climbing to the top before laying down and staring right at Jennie.

"He has your personality." The brunette commented. He was just as mean as Y/n and the girl was the first one to be a bitch towards her without a care about who Jennie was. She made herself comfortable as she sat down on the couch, the vixen sitting on the other end of it.

"You don't even know me cuckold." Y/n hissed and fixed her towel to make sure that it was secure, feeling the intense gaze of Jennie. Over the years she had grown used to the gazes that could at times make her skin crawl, especially if she was out. The woman's wasn't subtle and Jennie continued to come off as an asshole with the way she stared.

"Know you enough to see that you're quite the bitch and the last thing I am is a cuckold."

"Fine, an unwanted cum stain," Y/n said and clicked her tongue as Jennie was certainly unwanted here and yet she was there.

Jennie rarely had anyone talking to her that way unless they were her closest friends, but even those were few. Her eyes narrowed, unsure of how to take it from the girl who didn't seem to care for a second about who she was. She leaned back on the couch and rested her arm on the backrest.

"Is that so?" Was all she could say as she was quite speechless after being called an unwanted cum stain for the first time in her life.

"Yeah, I blocked your number for a reason." Y/n's eyes averted away from Jennie and she looked at the blank screen of the TV.

That was the exact reason as to why Jennie had come. If the girl hadn't blocked her she would've just asked her through texts and possibly see if she was up for more if the waters were safe. Now it was different as she was at her apartment on a Sunday.

"Which is?"

"Because I don't want to see you again."

Y/n pressed the idea as Jennie was asking a lot of why questions and she didn't need a better reason than simply not wanting to see her.

"Why is that?"

"Cause, there's no good reason to see you again."

The only reason seemed to be if she wanted to cheat again which she wasn't supposed to want. That thrill, that good sex, the thought of being horrible yet still enjoying herself during the moment, she wasn't supposed to want that. There was no good reason for Y/n to see Jennie when it came to Asher. She felt horrible, she felt even worse for enjoying it, and even worse for wanting to experience that adrenaline once again. It was as if she had taken a hit of heroin and grown addicted right away and now the only thing that would be able to suffice her boring life was Jennie with her dick.

It wasn't her fault that her boyfriend was at most decent in bed and even then was all gentle and loving. Scared to hurt her physically because he was so much bigger or say something that would hurt her. They clashed in bed. He was soft and uncomfortable with anything aside from praises and Y/n wanted to at times bang her head against the wall because of it. It was just the sex which didn't matter since she loved him for being the person that he was. Sex was just occasional for them as it wasn't a big part of their relationship. It gave her no right to cheat.

"Not even the sex?" Jennie asked with her eyebrows raised, removing the sunglasses from the top of her head.

"Not even the sex."

She felt somewhat challenged, her big ego about how good she was at pleasuring getting bruised. It made the foundation crack, and her ego extremely fragile because of how big and blown it was. The smallest poke made it blow up and blow away with the wind. That was why she never allowed anyone to try and step on her, or somehow bruise it by putting herself on top right away. Right now she was fighting with Y/n about that spot despite the girl not knowing it, at least she thought she didn't know.

"So it wasn't good?" Jennie continued to ask as she wasn't believing the girl and she also refused to be the only one to think that sex with the girl was quite amazing. She had to think the same.

"Not good enough for me to even remember it." Y/n lied as she could remember every single part of it and the only thing she couldn't remember was anything else from that night.

"You have to remember something. You were high but I hope that wasn't a problem since I asked for your consent."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to accuse you of anything. I was high, but well aware of what was happening even if I was more prone to letting it happen...You should consider not fucking girls high on E 'cause not everyone would let it slide after because of the headspace you get into."

"That was why I came." Jennie knew that it wasn't right to have sex with the girl if she wasn't in the right state of mind. It wasn't the case since it hadn't made her dissociative just like Y/n said that she had been aware. Although ecstasy had made her more clingy and somewhat unaware of how far things were being taken until they had happened since standards lowered and everyone was a friend when ecstasy coursed in the veins. She was worried she would have regretted it differently after and then accused Jennie of things.

"Well, you have your answer," Y/n concluded and was about to stand up, but was stopped.

"Okay, but why did you block me if that wasn't the problem?" That still bothered Jennie because she felt imbecilic for trying to text the girl only to be blocked. It made no sense for her to be blocked in the first place when she usually had to block girls because they thought the sex meant something. Everyone wanted it to mean something because she had money.

"What does it matter to you?"

"Didn't think it would be a one-time thing, especially if we both were drunk and high...Doesn't count in my opinion." Jennie used it as an excuse for her bruised ego. All she wanted to do was have sex one more time and prove how good she was, but then block the girl to bruise hers right back.

Y/n raised her eyebrows at the words and watched as Jennie shifted, her gaze catching her eyes. She blinked, trying to process what she meant by that.

"What?"

Jennie shrugged at that. "I want to have sex with you at least once more...I could pay you if that means that you agree." She casually explained that she wanted to at least have sex once more with the vixen and this time properly to make sure that she would remember it and want more.

The girl on the other side looked more offended than pleased by the offer.

"Okay, first of all, I would never have sex with anyone for money and second, no." Y/n ridiculed the whole thing as bizarre as she couldn't phantom where the older woman had so much confidence to ask something like this. It didn't matter how good-looking someone was, it was a far reach, but maybe girls agreed to her if they were desperate enough. Y/n knew that she wasn't.

"Why not? It's just sex, it's not like I am some musty creep."

"Because I have a boyfriend, it's cheating," Y/n answered as it was cheating, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't do it. She refrained from leaping to the world of selfishness which was lust and desire. It wasn't right at all and she tried her best to not look for valid reasons to go through with it. The internal battle was constant when she knew what she should choose right away. She was supposed to leave Sin City- she wasn't supposed to enter to begin with.

"Doesn't count if he won't find out. Where is he?" Jennie glanced around the empty apartment, finding no reason for the girl to hold back if her man wasn't home and wouldn't find out. It was only cheating if she got caught in her opinion. It was like playing a board game, she only got called out for it if the rest saw, found out, or suspected that she was cheating. The coast was clear and the game could continue without any problems.

"Practice," Y/n mumbled and widened her eyes at the sound of a zipper flying open.

"What're you doing, keep it in your pants, Jennie." She exclaimed as the woman was about to reach into her pants because she thought that it was the green light when the girl answered. She heaved a sigh and rested her fingers under the hem of her boxer briefs, the pants unzipped and her dick slowly growing harder.

"Is it because you don't want to cheat or what?" She asked. Jennie had a past of cheating, but it had never bothered her like it did Y/n so she couldn't grasp it.

Y/n inhaled deeply, her gaze falling on the cat that was now asleep, the apartment silent.

"It's because of the opposite when it shouldn't be." She couldn't help but want it, but she knew that it wasn't right so she couldn't grasp what was wrong with her head. She loved her boyfriend and that meant that she shouldn't even think of it, but she truly didn't love him any less just because she wanted some good sex. It was just sex, it wasn't even what defined their relationship since sex was the last thing on their list. It wasn't like she would stop loving him or he her—as long as he didn't find out–Jennie was nothing but some good dick.

Y/n felt horrible, all those reasonings weren't right, and there was no good enough reason to cheat. She was aware of that. Nothing was ever good enough to go this far. Nothing was excusable. She felt ashamed for enjoying it–

Yet she found herself bent over the couch with Jennie giving her such backshots that her eyes were rolling back when she came and cheating wasn't even a real word or concept. "Oh fuck." Jennie groaned out, pulling out of the girl and jerking herself off before blowing her hot load right on the perfectly slim ridges of her spine.

It didn't count as long as he didn't find out.

[Present]

"You're on birth control, we don't need them," Jennie complained as the younger girl opened the bedside drawer and reached for the condoms she had in there. It was becoming quite an expense because of how they went at it for hours when they could. She didn't use them with her boyfriend but did at times so there would be no questions about why there were condoms at home. Her hands ran over Y/n's body which was straddling her thighs as she sat leaned against the headboard.

"We do." The answer was simple as she deadpanned it.

"What for?" Jennie asked as she cupped her one breast, her fingers tugging at the hard nipple and toying around with the piercing. She leaned in and left a few kisses along the other breast before sucking in the bud into her mouth. She toyed with the nipple, playing with the piercing and grazing her teeth along it as it scraped over her teeth. Sighs left Y/n's mouth as she gripped onto Jennie's head.

"Not just for pregnancy." She breathed out and Jennie pulled away, another frown graced her eyebrows and Y/n handed her the wrapper, but she didn't take it.

"Do you think I carry some kind of STD?" She seriously asked and Y/n shrugged her shoulders at that, not up for humouring Jennie who always acted like she was dead in the brain in Y/n's opinion. At least she knew how to use her other head.

"Didn't say you do, but you never know what might happen. I only have one partner and see you on the side while I have no clue who you sleep with. If I were to catch something, what would I say?" The words left her with ease, cheating being a normal topic and she knew what she was at the back of her head. Y/n tried to ignore it most of the time because she didn't want to face the horrible person that she was.

"I use protection with every girl I meet." She had started to at least as she was done with shoving plan B's down girl's throats. Then she had no other choice since they would be able to tell that she had been faking her orgasms since she grew soft inside if she even got it up which hadn't been possible last time. It was mostly possible when she was wasted drunk, that was when she could get it up and hope for it to stay up.

"Oh wow, would you look at that, how great that I have stacked up on condoms then," the sarcasm irked Jennie as Y/n opened the packet herself and took out the rubber.

"You don't use them when you suck me off–" Jennie pointed out and her breath shuddered at how Y/n gently started to pull the condom over her dick that was standing proudly (seemingly just for her) like usual. It clicked in her head that it was something more than just protection from pregnancy and STDs because then she would make sure to have a condom on when she would go down on her. "What is it then?" She asked and grabbed hold of Y/n's wrist and hip, stopping the girl from being able to get on top of her. Her grip was tight to make sure she would stay.

"What does it matter to you? You're here to fuck so stop being a freak." Y/n defensively let out as Jennie had gotten oddly close to her and she didn't like it. She didn't like the girl asking her all these questions or even talking to her too much. They were supposed to fuck and then part ways. It had taken an even more wrong turn than cheating somewhere along the way with how their relationship looked like.

She let go of her wrist and grabbed hold of her dick. "I will fuck you." She sneered as she guided her tip to the sopping hole. Y/n's breath hitched as a cry left her lips and not in pleasure when the girl forcefully pushed her down fully on her length. She grasped onto Jennie's shoulders, her heart speeding up at the pain that had shot up through her whole spine. "Jen–" Her words were cut short, getting caught in her throat as Jennie planted her feet down and started to pound into her. Her lip was between her teeth, her eyes trained on their heat, watching how her cock disappeared into the girl whose pussy was grasping her inside.

"Fuck, you fucking cunt." Y/n whined, the pain slowly subsided but it didn't change the fact that Jennie had been way harsher than she was ready for without letting her adjust to the stretch. Her walls were throbbing around the cock that stretched her out in a way that turned into pleasure. The way the curved shaft caressed her g-spot made her stomach tighten, feeling Jennie deep inside her as each thrust filled her to the brim and made her clench to get as much as possible.

"You don't want to take my cum? I will fuck you so good you will be begging for me to knock you up. Fucking whore, acting all superior, I will fuck you into place like the slut that you are." Jennie rambled on, grunting with each thrust as Y/n wrapped her arms around her shoulders, unable to keep up with how sudden it all was. It was safe to say that she was angry and to Y/n that meant being fucked silly.

"I hate you so much."

"Yet you take my dick like you don't." Jennie groaned, the girl on top of her moaning right by her ear and she reached her hands down to her ass, gripping firmly. She was filling her to the hilt, with each downstroke she thrust up, Y/n's ass slapping against her thighs and her nails digging into the sides of her neck. The girl tried her best to meet the rough thrusts, her thighs tensing up and gasps fell from her lips.

Jennie had no clue what it was, but she forgot her self-control around the girl. Not only because she was hot, but because she gave her every reason to not have any control over her anger when she liked to treat her like dirt under her shoes. However, Jennie did control it because the girl would most likely be crying from pain right now and not pleasure. She was just giving back the same type of attitude by fucking her like a whore.

Her cock hit the right spots, reaching deep inside her and managing to caress her g-spot the entire time she was pounding into her. Jennie's breaths grew heavy, Y/n's body warm in her hold as she watched the perfect curves of her slim figure. Her eyes fell on the chest, the tits that were perfect to fit in her hands bounced and Jennie leaned in. Her teeth nipped at the skin, sucking the hard nipples into her mouth to play with the piercings and tug on them, it made Y/n moan and gasp right into her ear. The pleasure increased and her clit throbbed while her stomach tensed up.

"Wanna come." Y/n moaned out, wanting nothing more than to orgasm once again.

Jennie pulled away from the chest that was glistening with her spit, the hard buds left red and slightly swollen from how she abused them with her mouth. "Only if I let you." The room filled with the sounds of their skin slapping against each other. Y/n's moans and gasps bounced off the walls just like Jennie's moans and grunts. She could feel the brunette's cock deep in her as her walls clenched with each of the harsh thrusts that made her breathless. Jennie reached her hand behind Y/n's head and gripped her hair, forcing her away and making her look at her as the girl was hiding in her neck.

"You need so much cock to satisfy you that you go behind your boyfriend's back." She reminded her, deciding to trample on the girl because she had been getting on her nerves since she entered the apartment. She groaned, Y/n's nails digging into the sides of her neck as she continued to roll her hips, bouncing up and down on her length yet Jennie had all the control as she continued to piston in and out of her.

Despite how whiny she felt and needy for an orgasm, her eyes barely staying open, she was getting pissed off by Jennie's words. "Shut the fuck up, you're sounding obsessed again." Y/n too knew how to trample the girl whose cock was rearranging her insides into a mess. The vixen knew that she was cheating, but she didn't want to be reminded of it, she didn't want to think of it. She knew that she had no right because it was a choice, but she still felt ashamed and guilty every single day. It didn't seem to stop her because the second she saw Jennie it was the same all over again.

Jennie stopped, Y/n still moving her hips although not for long when Jennie grabbed hold of her waist. "Fuck–" Y/n winced at the painful grip that would leave bruises. She wanted to be pissed but she had no time when Jennie pushed her onto her back before then forcing her onto her stomach. The girl barely managed to put up a fight from how quickly Jennie handled her.

"You're hurting me, you perverted jagoff." She complained and tried to struggle at the grip that Jennie had on her wrists, pinning them down above her head as she lay pressed into the mattress.

Jennie looked down, pinning both hands with her one. She looked down at the girl whose thighs she was straddling, her cock resting against her ass cheek. Y/n's back arched and the struggling did nothing, but only turned Jennie on more to know that she had all the control. It was tempting to just remove the condom since Y/n wouldn't be able to do anything about it or even notice at first–she refrained because she didn't want to get thrown out. She slowly rubbed her hard-on against her plump ass– "Don't call me obsessed with a fucking wimp."

"Ahh!" Y/n buried her face in the duvet, completely trapped under Jennie whose palm landed right against her ass cheek. It stung, the pain prickling on the skin as she heaved to try and distract herself from the pain. Jennie surely knew how to slap. It was another try to wiggle out from under her to get spared, all she felt was Jennie's cock rubbing against her ass.

"Stop acting it." She mumbled into the sheets, eyes closed as she panted through her mouth before biting down and whining, eyes shut tightly at how the woman's palm collided with her ass again.

Jennie gripped the flesh, soothing over the hot skin as she kneaded the girl's ass in her hand. "You think I care about him? If I did, I wouldn't be fucking his girlfriend." Jennie gritted out, the anger bubbling in her chest as her grip tightened on Y/n's wrists who twisted the duvet between her fingers at how numbing it was. She gasped out a breath as the pain was still lingering and Jennie only landed another harsh slap against the same ass cheek and she choked on a cry this time, trying to squirm under the woman. Her back arched and her ass pressed into Jennie at how the pain made her twist before she relaxed when the worst part subsided and all that was left was the pulsating left after.

"Fuck– that's not it," Y/n said with heavy breaths as it wasn't that which she found Jennie looking obsessed over. The vixen snivelled as she blinked away her tears and moved her head, resting her cheek against the mattress as she looked at Jennie over her shoulder. The hand was now caressing the reddening spot.

She hummed, urging Y/n to say it as she removed her hand from her ass and grabbed the base of her dick that was throbbing as she positioned herself straddling the girl's thighs and pushed her tip between her legs, finding the aching hole. She only pushed her tip in, the younger girl already whimpering as the position made her a much tighter fit. The walls sucked her tip into a chokehold of a grip, making Jennie suck air through her teeth at how good the warm and tight cunt felt.

"You're obsessed with his position, with the fact that he isn't the one on the side but you and that's what you will always be."

Jennie bit down on her tongue, running her palm along the ridges of the slim girl's spine as she lowered herself, propping herself up on her forearms, still holding her hands pinned down with hers. She didn't want the girl to have any control whatsoever, all she wanted for Y/n to be able and use was her mouth. They came face to face and stared each other in the eye, the lust was strong, and it was fueling the whole room. They knew what they were doing and what it meant, what it was supposed to mean at least.

"Don't act like you don't want me." Her tone was husky and she caught the whimper that was about to leave Y/n's mouth when she pushed herself inside the girl in one fluid motion. Y/n pulled away rather quickly as the moans started to spill when Jennie moved back out before slamming her cock back inside the sweltering heat. Her pelvis collided with Y/n's ass with each deep thrust, keeping it up as she continued to pull out, leaving her tip in and slamming it all back in. The vixen's lighter body getting fucked into the mattress.

"I fucking own you in the bedroom, I own you even when you fuck him because you think about me when you do." Her tone was gruff as she spoke in a hushed tone right into Y/n's ear who shivered at the air that brushed her sensitive ears. She grunted, going rougher and Y/n's moans got louder, unable to keep the sounds back when Jennie was pounding her full length into her tight hole. She clenched around her hard dick even more, it was followed by a muffled whimper from Jennie whose body was almost fully pressed against Y/n's back, their legs tangled together.

Each heaving breath mixing into the sounds, the two lost in their sins as the place they were in was the only place that brought them away from everything else. There was no guilt, no shame, no hesitation, or stress, not in their city of sins because it was just them. The two were addicted to these feelings and each other in ways that were unhealthy. There were no questions asked or anyone to judge. It was what made it possible to get lost in pleasure.

"Fuck, Y/n, fuck, I'm gonna make you cum so hard baby, I will fuck you so good the whole night. You're gonna take me so good like you always do, my favourite slut." Jennie mumbled, her mind getting lost as she kissed the girl's shoulder before licking a long stripe and biting down to pull at the thin skin. Her dick throbbed inside the pulsating walls that were warm and welcoming even if it got painful at times. The girl's cunt clasped around her with each thrust, having her cock in a choke hold as each time made Jennie moan right into her ear.

"You make me feel so good." Y/n let out a choked moan, her hips pushing into Jennie as her body turned into a heat that coursed through every nerve and vein. A sheen of sweat covered their bodies that pressed against each other with their heat conjoined. "Who else fucks your slutty pussy this good, hmm? Who else can get you like this?" She rasped, biting along her shoulder and up to her ear that she pulled at with her lips before kissing. Her hips were ruthless as she kept up the rough thrust that made her pant for air.

"Just you, only you can fuck me this good–your dick is the only dick that can fill me up this good."

Jennie's breathing got deeper and heavier, her heart beating harder as her balls tightened, being close to releasing another load. "Your pussy is so good, my favourite, I just wanna empty my balls into you 'cause you take me so well. You deserve all of my cum, baby." Y/n's moans were falling breathless after Jennie's tip had been abusing her g-spot the whole time. Jennie let go of her wrists. Y/n grasped at the sheets and Jennie moved her hand down and grabbed her hip. She lifted them slightly before letting her hand run down between Y/n's thighs.

"Jennie– Oh, I'm gonna–"

"Show me how good you feel." Jennie urged, her fingers circling the girl's clit in a motion that made her whole body tense.

She watched the girl whose mouth was agape, eyes barely open and all she could see were the whites when Y/n's body spasmed more into her. The orgasm washed over her hard, black and white filling her vision as high-pitched moans spilled through her plump and wet lips without a pause, making her run out of breath at the end. It made her whole body weak and dizzy, whining at how the fingers were still playing with her clit.

"I'm so close, I'm gonna cum so much." Jennie groaned out through the deep breaths and Y/n managed to find her words.

"On me. Please, Jennie." She pleaded, wanting Jennie to paint her with her thick and hot cum. It made her hips stutter and her stomach flexed, edging herself because of the request. She didn't waste time as she grabbed the base of her length and pulled out, getting off her thighs.

"Get the fuck up, I'm not gonna hold it for you." She gritted out, helping Y/n with one hand while removing the condom with the other. Her tip was swollen, throbbing and begging for a release, her balls having plenty for the vixen. Y/n got turned onto her back and Jennie stood on her knees beside her, the girl expectantly looking up at her. Eyes falling to the thick cock, a long vein running on the underside, her tip bright red and mushroom-shaped and her balls big and heavy.

Jennie jerked at her dick, staring the girl down, getting more turned on by how submissive she was being, how she had all the control, how she was begging for her. The power that she held over someone like Y/n. She looked at her perky breast, nipples hard and the silver jewellery pierced through them. Her eyes drowned in the perfect body laid out for her, how hot and sexy the girl was until her eyes landed back on her face, those sharp siren-like eyes, dark brown locks, luscious lips, flawless skin, every little feature.

It made Jennie raise her hand to her mouth and bite down on her fist to muffle the whimpers when her balls tightened and the cum started to shoot out of her tip. Her back arched as she bucked her hips into her hand, doing her best to control where it was going, but it seemed impossible at how intense the orgasm was this time compared to when she came in her pants. Her whimpering and moaning muffled and Y/n felt the warm and creamy release splattering onto her skin.

She didn't want the girl mocking her for it once again because she knew how mean Y/n was.

She heaved, breaths shaky as she managed to open her eyes which closed at some point. She did one last stroke and this time the cum just leaked out of her tip, dripping down onto the sheets as her dick started to go limp.

"Fuck, you look hot." She breathed out and Y/n glanced down at her chest which was covered in the fluid and she felt some on her face.

"Give me my phone." Y/n requested, holding her hand out as she lay in the same position, not having the energy to move at the moment. Jennie slumped down and reached over to the nightstand, taking the girl's phone before handing it to her, not realising how she obeyed each request no matter the girl's tone.

"Will you take a picture and send it to me?" She asked with a hopeful tone as she knew that she would be able to get off to the picture every single day for at least a week before asking for a new one. Y/n scoffed at the request.

"No, are you dumb?" She asked and Jennie frowned.

"Why not, you've sent pictures before?"

"Cause I am naked." She had sent the girl pictures, but never any nudes and never showed her face in them aside from a glimpse of her lips. Jennie grumbled to herself, trying to get a mental picture of the masterpieces she created on the girl. Y/n still opened her camera to see where it all was.

"You fucking cunt, you came in my hair." She complained and Jennie groaned when she got kicked in the thigh. Y/n turned her phone off and threw it to the side before she sat up, facing Jennie. She looked over her, the woman almost lying down as she sat leaning against the headboard. A frown and her lips puckered at the treatment. Her dick rested against her thigh and it wouldn't be long until it would be all ready for Y/n to take again. "Don't make that face until you've had cum in your hair." Y/n hissed and sucked air through her teeth.

"Where're you going?" Jennie asked when Y/n got up from the bed.

"Shower."

"I'm coming too–Wait, have you–" Jennie paused and sat up at the edge of the bed, Y/n looked back at the woman who sighed.

"Are you hungry?" Y/n raised her eyebrows at that and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess, I haven't eaten today." She replied. She hadn't had time to eat as her fridge was empty and she didn't have money for takeout or the time to buy any groceries. It was always Asher who did these things since the girl got too busy, but things got in the way after they had another fight and he never managed to buy anything before needing to leave for the weekend.

She did fight with him, but she fought even more with Jennie who was the side thing. It made little sense, but it stayed.

"Why not?" Jennie asked, wondering how the girl was even standing up as it was close to 8 p.m. and she had some pretty intense sex a second ago. Jennie's legs felt like jelly and she sat at the bed, watching Y/n's naked figure.

"Haven't had time and my fridge is empty and I am too broke to order," Y/n answered while opening the closet door and taking out new sweats and tee. She stopped for a second and remembered the pair of sweats Jennie had forgotten after having spare clothes with her. She reached for the pair of grey sweats she had stuffed behind the rest of her bottoms. "Why do you care so much?" She asked with a sigh and turned back around, closing the door after her.

"I feel like it is a normal thing to care about people." Y/n only hummed and threw the sweats to Jennie before she headed for the door to get to the bathroom. Jennie quickly got up to not get locked out of the bathroom for taking too long once again, taking her phone and shirt with her. "Can I order food then?" She questioned and she usually left right after, but that hadn't been the case with Y/n for the past months. Never did she spare the women a second glance, she viewed them as her sex toys she threw away after using once, but Y/n was a doll she wanted to last a bit longer so she treated her well.

Whatever treating someone well was in Jennie's world.

"Do whatever you want."

"Well, I mean can I order food for us both?" She rephrased her question for the girl. Following Y/n who walked into the bathroom which was right beside the bedroom from the side where the front door was.

"How long do you plan on staying? Friends are coming tomorrow at around 4," Y/n asked instead.

"I could leave before that? Or do you not want me to stay the night?" She confusedly asked and stepped inside the bathroom that wasn't too big with just a simple glass shower in the corner, a sink with a mirror and the toilet. At this point, she had fucked the girl on probably every surface in the apartment. She closed the door before she tossed the clothes onto the towel rack and Y/n started the shower.

"I was supposed to be studying."

"You can do that."

"Without anyone trying to stuff their dick inside me like a horny teenager." Jennie pursed her lips at that and ran a hand through her slightly tousled hair. She stepped into the shower where Y/n already was, closing the glass door and getting under the steaming water that was pouring down on them. "What if I don't? Or you could study tomorrow or any other day." She tried since she wanted to stay as long as possible since there was no telling when she would get to be with Y/n again. She wanted to get as much sex as possible in case the same problem occurred with another girl again. It could take anything from a day to a week. Jennie's arm would get sore.

"Fine."

"Good, I already ordered the food." She mumbled as she was starving after the sex with the succubus of a girl. Y/n rolled her eyes and Jennie grabbed hold of her hips, turning her around so she would face her. She pulled her closer and captured her wet lips with her own, the girl humming as she parted her lips for Jennie.

TAGSLIST! @yxlis @jisooftme @geeminz @lisas-earlobe @xszn @badasgff @badaspookie @hwm1hyun / taglist is open

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lynzishell · 7 months ago

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The Past 💛 Atlas

By the time I arrive at the bar, it’s after five. Late enough that everyone in our group will already be settled in, but early enough that it won’t be too crowded otherwise.

This place is nice, all exposed brick and greenery. That coupled with the dim lighting and decent music selection playing overhead lends itself to a cozy place to decompress after a busy day. That is, unless you’re sitting at a table with a dozen other people who are having multiple conversations at once, which is why I usually avoid these gatherings.

I scan the room and spot two tables full of our co-workers. Some of them have invited along a friend or significant other, making the group even larger than usual. Asher is sitting at the far end, leaning forward as Evan shows him something on their phone, both of them laughing. I don’t see an empty chair at either table, but that’s just fine by me. I’d rather sit at the small high-top table in the far corner.

Finally, I take a deep breath and head toward the bar.

I’m just reaching for my wallet to pay for my beer when Asher steps in front of me to order a drink. He tells the bartender to put both on his tab and then spins around to face me, “Hi.”

“Hi. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Y’know, I was starting to wonder if you were gonna show up.”

“Yeah, sorry, I got stuck at work, but I’m here now.”

“I’m glad,” he says with a smile before turning to pick up our drinks, “Do you wanna sit down?”

“Sure.” I lead the way, walking past our group of co-workers toward the empty table I'd spotted in the far corner.

Part of me wonders if he’ll stop and sit with everyone else, but he doesn’t. He follows me without hesitation and hops onto the stool next to me when I sit down. As I lift my feet onto the footrest, our knees touch under the table, sending a current of electricity up my leg all the way to the center of my chest. I grin to myself as I reach to take a sip of my beer, noticing then that Asher’s drink looks identical to my own. I point to it, “Seriously? You give me shit, and you’re drinking an IPA?”

“It’s the first time I’ve had one,” he explains, “I wanted to try it, see what all the fuss is about.”

“And?”

He takes a sip and sets his glass back down with a shudder, “Ugh, it’s disgusting.”

“Ah c’mon, it’s not that bad,” I say with a laugh as I take a drink.

He watches me with a pained expression, “It’s fucking rancid.”

Rolling my eyes, I reach over and take his glass, “Give me that. I’ll get you another drink. What do you want?”

“Oh god, thank you. A whiskey sour, please.”

“Coming right up.”

As I walk to the bar, I can feel Asher watching me from behind. Or am I imagining it? Probably just wishful thinking. I don’t dare to glance back to see. I’m not sure which would be worse: the embarrassment I’d feel if he was watching, or the disappointment I’d feel if he wasn’t. Better to just keep my eyes forward and my mind on the task at hand.

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#cw alcohol #ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #sims 4 challenge #starsignchallenge #starsignlegacychallenge #gen1 aries #aries pt4 #past #atlas stephens #asher goode

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minniepetals · 2 years ago

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cry me a river | the unprepared

— summary: no one is ever prepared to be broken, even if they think they are, and breaking again and again does not make you numb to the pain

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, mafia!au

— word count: 7.0k

— warnings: slight ptsd trigger

— PART 23 / previous post / masterpost

“Would you be able to send this letter to the address written on it? Personally?”

The girl you saved is named Ester, and without fail, people whose lives have been saved often feel indebted to their savior, so you know it would be right to have a little faith in her when you give her this task.

And as expected, she’s nodding without question and goes on her merry way.

It was the first thing you asked of her after all, because when you told her you had no need for the help she wanted to offer you with the injuries you sustained at the party along with wanting to help you feel comfortable in Alexander’s mansion, you could tell she was immediately angsty and in need of wanting to do anything you asked of her.

Nice girls like her often get taken advantage of.

Well, that’s none of your problem.

You take care of yourself with the treatment Ester provided for you, treating the cuts from where the bullets managed to wheeze past you, and bandaging yourself up before leaving the room provided for you.

Little Kiwi comes barking at your feet before you even reach the grand living room and despite not one to give or show affection, you pick the little thing up albeit reluctantly.

“Kid, isn’t it about time you head to sleep? And don’t lick me again, please, that’s quite rude.”

You hear a gentle chuckle from a familiar deep voice and finally walk into the living room to find both Alexander and Asher already there.

“Dogs don’t necessarily understand rudeness, though he listens to you quite well,” Alexander notes at the obedient puppy in your arms. He doesn’t wiggle around or bark and remains nestled where you hold him. When you take your seat on the sofa with a small space between you and Asher, the old man speaks again. “I heard you refused treatment from my people.”

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Forgive me, I’m not used to foreign touches.”

He knows you don’t mean “foreigners” per se and narrows his gaze slightly, possibly out of curiosity. “You have quite the skills, young lady, for having an unknown name.”

“My name is Y/N,” you tell him, sitting up. “I am a Reaper, the Grim Reaper of South Korea. My father passed away about a year ago, he was a good friend of your son Karl.”

“Karl.” He rubs his chin thinking about it. “So why have you come to Norway? To meet up with Karl?”

“Karl and I have never been that close, sir.” Of course not, you hate that man. Seeing his face alone will make you want to punch him but you know better than that. So keeping yourself calm, you look away to the side where the windows are, covered by pretty rose gold curtains. “I came here because I quite like the way the sun never sets during this time. It brings me peace.”

“You’re on vacation?” He raises a brow, doubtful, and looks toward Asher for confirmation but the man just shrugs without giving him an answer.

“You could say that,” you reply, and the old man clears his throat.

“It takes someone special to dodge all those bullets without managing any fatal injuries,” he returns to the topic of the matter as he leans back into his seat, an ankle propped onto a knee. “My son never mentioned someone like you, or his good friend.”

“The skills I acquired were not from my father, sir.”

“So you had a different master?”

“I was trained by a Yakuza master. He goes by the name Kitagawa Daisuke.”

Kitagawa Daisuke. Anyone who lives in the darkness knows the name. It’s almost like saying Shakespeare and an immediate ding pops into one's head. Your master is that famous in the underground world.

“No wonder..” Alexander looks at you with fascination now, a small crooked smile curling along his lips, eyes brightening. He knows not just anyone can call themself a disciple of Kitagawa Daisuke and it just further proves a point as to how dangerous the mission will be when you finally go up against your master. That is, if time will allow it. Who knows if you’ll even survive this mission.

You’re just dancing around with death at this point and he’s leading the moves.

“Now that you mention it, you have a sort of aura that you exude in the way I’ve seen with Master Kita. You live up to his name, no disciple of his would have let the enemies’ move confuse her.”

He must be talking about how you managed to recognize the motives of the enemies when you realize the focus was not on Alexander himself but his grandson, Asher Larsen.

You give the man a small glance before looking down at the puppy who’s now slowly dozing off in your lap. You give him a small scratch behind the ear, doting on him a bit. Who would have thought even the enemies knew the life of a dog mattered more to Alexander than his own grandson.

So Asher was right when he said Alexander doesn’t have favorites, which means that if someone does manage to gain his favor, it wouldn’t just be in your favor but you’d have more eyes on your back more than before.

Sounds like a headache.

But it’s the only way you can get rid of Karl. Because if you gain Alexander’s favor, it’ll mean he won’t blink an eye when you tell him you want his own son dead.

“Master told me to always keep my senses heightened no matter the situation.”

He hums at the answer and in a way, you hope this little attention you’ve gained from Alexander is enough to gain a bit of his favor. They say Alexander doesn’t like people who deliberately kiss up someone’s shoes to get to where they want. He’s probably had enough of those people. He also likes people who have a backbone and knows how to protect themselves.

“How would you like to be my new caretaker for Kiwi?” The proposal Alexander gives has your head perked up his way, feeling a bit dumbfounded and surprised, but he continues before you can reject or accept the offer. “You’re here on vacation, aren’t you? I’m sure Kiwi would love to continue seeing you until it’s time for you to return home.”

Perhaps he knows a bit of your plan. Perhaps he doesn’t. Either way, he’s giving you a great opportunity to remain seen by his side.

“I know it may sound a lot asking a mafia boss but I quite like you, Miss Y/N.”

“No, it’s quite alright,” you shake your head lightly and look down at the now sleeping puppy in your lap before giving Alexander the answer. “I’d gladly accept.”

He smiles, satisfied, and when he leaves after taking the sleeping puppy from you, you’re left alone with Asher who had been silent the whole exchange between you and Alexander.

“I’m impressed, that was quite the feat. No one’s ever gotten this far this fast.” When you look at the man who’s finally speaking up, there’s a small curl up his lips when he looks your way, and you guess this man is usually stoic for the most part. How great you’re earning a bit of favor from both the grandfather and the grandson.

“I guess it’s just in my nature to have people join my side.” You give him a simple reply, one he does not refute, and the day ends with that.

You don’t get a wink of sleep at all staying there in that mansion and you know it’s because you’re in an unfamiliar place. You’ve never been good at adapting to something new. It took some time for you to settle into the Bangtan manor when you first moved there years ago, but unlike how it was there and back at your own manor, Alexander’s mansion gives you some sort of comfort you’ve never had before.

It’s probably the fact that night never comes. Your room has windows placed at a good spot, where the sun seems to shine through even though there are clouds blocking part of it. It isn’t as bright as it was when you first arrived at the airport but when it still lights up the sky around three am, you’re grateful for being here, in Norway.

Norway is pretty in a way Korea has never been and being here, despite the mission you’re on, gives you a sense of peace and calmness Korea has never given you. It’s a foreign country and yet something about it, something about the sun not being allowed to set and give way to the stars and moon, to the darkness, you have the urge to stay here if you could. Forever if possible.

But peace can never truly stay forever as long as you live this life.

You have people to go after, a revenge plot you’re on. Maybe when everything is over, if you manage to survive in the end and meet your last victim without dying, maybe then you can return here.

But first comes earning Alexander’s favor.

“You’re going to be in charge of taking care of his dog?” Hoseok’s face is a bit comical when you relay them the news once morning comes and you arrive back at the place Namjoon has provided for you. “Just what do you know about taking care of dogs?”

“Not much,” you admit as you scroll through your phone in hopes of learning, “but Alexander’s given me a bit of trust so I might as well take the opportunity. Ah, speaking of,” you put your phone down for a second, looking between the two Bangtan men, “don’t the two of you have some experience in taking care of dogs? You’ll teach me, then.”

It’s a request that comes out of nowhere, especially after just dropping the bomb on them, but it’s not like there’s anything else they can really do.

Namjoon sent them here in support for you and despite the awkward air around each of you, you’re one to ignore all signs and pretend everything is and has always been alright.

“Well an important part of a dog’s routine is taking walks,” Jungkook speaks up after being quiet for a while. His brows are slightly furrowed, thinking. “Mr. Larsen has actually given you quite the task.”

He’s right.

Taking a dog out on walks means being out in the open air where enemy eyes are everywhere. If last night proves that Kiwi serves more purpose to Alexander than his own grandson — and the enemies know that — then being the dog sitter isn’t just any mere maid’s job.

They have to be smart, agile, quick, and strong because they’re looking after what equals an heir.

You’re basically Kiwi’s bodyguard.

“Maybe this is his way of testing me.” It has to be. He couldn’t just have trusted a random stranger to take care of something that clearly means a lot to him. Though that begs the question as to why.

Is it because you mentioned Kitagawa as your master? He’s quite well known after all, and well respected at that.

Still, something’s a little weird.

But if you’re trying to get close to the old man, you might as well take advantage of this while not forgetting to remain cautious.

No one can ever be trusted fully. There is always an ulterior motive behind one’s action.

“I have a question, sir.” When you return to the manor a little later that day, the first person you go to is Alexander, who easily allows you into his proximity just minutes after you asked for his time. You thought initially it’d be a while until you get your reply, after all, he’s a Godfather who’s probably busy with all sorts of things, which is why it’s surprising the reply came so soon and was received well.

His butler didn’t lead you to an office, rather, you found yourself walking into a pretty greenhouse that sort of reminds you of the one back at home.

It’s massive in size though, that’s a difference, but you can clearly tell it’s being taken care of well in the way your Reapers takes care of your greenhouse.

“One moment, Miss Y/N.”

Alexander has his back turned to you when you find him towards a corner, with a water can in hand as he personally feeds the plants the amount of water needed with a serene expression on his face.

Kiwi, who had followed you when you were led by the butler, walks over to respectfully nuzzle against his master’s foot.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” The old man comments with a smile once he’s done watering the plants and places the can back in its place.

“It’s a surprise you’re able to keep them alive here,” you utter as you take another look around at the greens all around you. “I have one back in Korea, though my Reapers take care of them.”

Alexander takes a seat on a bench and Kiwi jumps over to lay on his lap. “Taking care of things personally brings me peace.”

“...Does it, now?” In a world where things are always chaotic, you suppose having somewhere to go to for peace is ideal. “I don’t have a greenhouse for personal taste though.”

“Do you grow poison?” He asks and there’s really no use lying.

“Amongst other things.”

He falls silent for a moment, a serene silence, and it’s strange the way he looks at you in a way no one’s ever done before. You’ve seen creepy old men before, met a couple of them personally against your will, but Alexander doesn’t remind you much of them. He stands out further, but in a way that isn’t bad at all and for some reason that brings you another sort of uncomfortable feeling you don’t think you’ve ever felt before.

It’s strange and foreign, and perhaps he understands the effect he’s made on you because he lets out a light chuckle.

“I used to be just like you, little one.”

Your brows furrow at his words, confused. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir.”

“Always in a rush, never stopping to revel in the scenery.”

Because there’s no time for that. Time doesn’t wait for anyone and the enemies certainly don't. You’ve finally gained some sort of peace after your father’s death but even then, letting yourself go in order to be free from the chains isn’t exactly as easy as one may think.

You’re rushing because you want to reach peace, because you want a moment in time when things finally slows down and you’re okay with it, with the clocks existing, with the time ticking.

Peace doesn’t come to just anyone willingly.

“You’re anxious,” Alexander notes and perhaps you’re uncomfortable because he sees through a part of you that only people you allow in sees.

This is why you hate old people.

They can tell so easily because they’ve been through things.

“If I let time catch up on me, there will be nothing left in front of me.”

“Is that what you believe?” He asks, a hand running through Kiwi’s fur as the little dog begins to fall asleep. “What if what you want is already in front of you? Perhaps you just don’t want to face it because you’re afraid.”

Afraid?

Afraid of what?

But maybe he’s right. Maybe you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“You’re running away.”

Yes.

This man certainly does make you uncomfortable.

Not like the creeps, not like Leehyun, but not like Mister Butler either. Though in a way, there’s something familiar that you sense in him in the way you’ve felt with Mister Butler. As if he has a window to see through your soul.

But you’re sure not all old people know everything. They can only guess from what they’ve been given and seen.

You decide to keep your guard up.

“The question you wanted to ask,” perhaps he felt you trying to run from him so he changes the subject, “What was it?”

Right.

“When I take Kiwi out on walks, I’m sure you realize there may be people out there who will take advantage of those times. I don’t know the streets well and I don’t know who means well and who wants Kiwi dead. So I wanted to ask; the people that decide to come after me during Kiwi’s walk time, do you want them dead or alive when I bring them to you?”

So blunt and straight to the point, Alexander chuckles at that, amused.

“I’m sure a disciple of Master Kita will come to understand who poses a threat and who doesn't. I don’t care about the lives of those who want my little puppy dead. It doesn’t matter who they are, if they come after him, kill them. After all,” his eyes are gentle when he looks down at the puppy, though there’s a glint of danger that flashes in the light of his eyes, “only people with evil hearts will want to hurt an innocent puppy.”

Evil hearts. What a strange way to put it that way.

You get too curious not to ask; “Do you believe we aren’t evil? A little kid might subject us to the same category as them. We all kill after all. It doesn’t matter what, it doesn’t matter who. Killers are all evil in the eyes of some.”

He doesn’t think much on it when he answers your question. “In my eyes, many of us, like you and I, kill only for survival.” You and I, he says. “If an apocalypse were to happen, you’d kill a zombie for survival, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t just it bite you and you certainly wouldn’t let them bite someone you care for. You’d kill them. For survival.”

He looks up, eyes as clear as day. “This business we’re in…we’re in the same boat.”

Killing to survive.

Killing because there is no other choice.

You don’t think you’ve ever met a man like him who seems so sentimental on life as if a part of him is satisfied with what he’s gone through but he also holds some regret, things he knows beyond you, years he’s lived more than you, and has gained wisdom from all the experience.

No one from this business has ever looked in the same lens as he does on life and you hate it.

You hate how it makes you feel.

So you drop the subject and leave the greenhouse, feeling that creepy sense of goosebumps on your body as you go.

When Kiwi wakes from his nap a little after, he comes to find you and you take him out on the walk you promised him before that meeting with Alexander.

The walk is nice, the scenery different from that of Seoul, and the breath of fresh air it allows you to intake with a piece of mind helps you remain calm and collected. Kiwi walks beside you without a leash, his little feet taking you down the paths as if he’s done this a thousand times before, with his little nose curious at every little thing around him.

He doesn’t ever stray away and you guess perhaps even the little one understands the dangers of what it means to be himself. In all honesty, you prefer cats over dogs but you have to admit this isn’t so bad — well, being in Norway helps, you guess.

In Seoul, the streets wouldn’t forgive you for taking a walk so carefreely like this.

But of course, Norway has its own dangers. You are taking care of a prominent figure of a powerful mafia after all.

For the most part, you had been following Kiwi and letting him guide you where his nose leads him, but when the two of you come towards a lake where lies a bridge at the center, the little puppy suddenly stops in his tracks, sniffs the air, before retracing back to you.

Your brows furrow slightly when he steps up to your feet, hiding in between them, and when you hear a small noise out of the ordinary and look up with a calm gaze at the sudden new presence that has now surround the both of you, an exasperated sigh leaves you.

So much for peace and quiet.

“Hey lady, what’re you doing with that dog?” A man asks in Norwegian.

“Dog sitting,” you reply in English.

They look amongst one another, confusion plastered on their faces probably because they’ve never seen you around before and when Kiwi grinds his teeth and growls lowly at them, you put a foot closer to him, trying to ease the little puppy.

“What happened to the old sitter? Dead?” He speaks up again, a brow raised your way. Perhaps he’s testing your ability to understand him so when he speaks in his language, you continue replying in English with perfect understanding of one another.

“Not dead. I’m just a temporary sitter.”

“And who are you? I’ve never seen you around Alexander before.”

“Just a common girl.” You take a small step back seeing the way he reaches for something in his pockets.

“You should know that the streets are dangerous.”

A little chuckle leaves you. “I wouldn’t be trusted with Alexander’s dog if I didn’t know that, now would I? Still, that’s a very bad idea,” you beckon at the gun he pulls out. “You wouldn’t want to do that.”

The corner of his lip curls upwards as he brings his gun forward to his face, playing with it just as his friends start to close in on you. “And why not? Are you afraid, little common girl?”

“Afraid?” You tilt your head back, laughing. “No, no, it’s not me who should be afraid.” He sends you a furrow in his brows at the way you look so relaxed and so you go on. “Alexander has already given me permission to eliminate anyone who poses a threat, which means I don’t have to go easy on you or spare your lives.”

“Really?” He scoffs, taunting you. “One against seven, you really think a little girl like you can take us?”

“Oh no, I’m not talking about me, though you’d be surprised I can totally take you.”

“What?”

“You should learn to heighten your senses, old man, maybe then you’d realize we aren’t the only ones here.” With that signal, someone from the group has their neck slashed from behind and another one gets shot right in the head.

One by one, they fall as you calmly pick up the scared little dog and stroke along his head to calm him down. He leans into your touch as the two of you ignore what’s happening around you, and once he finally seems alright again, you turn back to where Jungkook and Hoseok are standing, the enemies all dead on the ground.

You take one glance down at the dead bodies before checking the time on your watch. “I’ll inform Alexander and have his people clean this up,” you say as you reach for your phone. “Meanwhile, would one of you like to accompany me back to his mansion? Take on the role Taehyung took back at London?”

Jungkook comes along while Hoseok stays back and the walk back for the most part lies in silence.

Drama only occurs once you return to the mansion, hearing the sound of a familiar voice you haven’t heard in some time now. He shouts angrily you hear it through the halls and when you walk into the living room, you find Karl Larsen with three of his men behind him, reprimanding poor little Ester with Asher standing off to the side, looking bored and exasperated of his uncle.

No one stops him.

“Are you that incompetent? Just how useless are you that my father has to choose a stranger to take over your job? I told you to keep an eye on that mutt and you can’t even do that?”

Huh. Who would have thought Ester was actually Karl’s servant who had been assigned to look over Kiwi before you came in to take over temporarily? Though from the looks of it, when she cowers in fear under his demands, her head lowered, eyes tightly shut, shoulders trembling slightly, she doesn’t like this man so much.

Who does after all?

But she did look a lot more carefree living in this manor, looking after Kiwi under Alexander’s commands. Alexander isn’t known to bring just anyone in to work for him, which means Ester managed to gain his trust. He’s good at knowing who to trust, he wouldn’t just be easily swayed by his own blood’s opinions, so if given the chance, you believe that Ester wouldn’t hesitate to betray Karl.

She’s a sweet girl, you don’t doubt that.

Asher on the other hand, you aren’t too sure if a man like him deserves the benefit of the doubt.

He senses your presence though, unlike Karl and his men, and when he looks up to meet your eyes from the entryway of the living room, he stands up a little more straight, a small curl turning upwards upon the corner of his lips.

Maybe he’s just bored with petty family affairs and has no say in what his uncle wants or does. Family positions are important in the mafia after all.

“Where is she? The new girl?” Karl’s voice snaps back, his eyes bulging and you step towards them despite Jungkook’s caution, knowing the signs of that man. “Bring her to me now, you useless—”

His hand raises in the air and before it can come down at the young girl’s head, you grab his wrist mid-air with your left hand, stopping him successfully. “If you’re really that upset about the change, why don’t you bring it up to your father, spoiled old man?”

His brows furrow tightly when he looks your way initially, before his expression begins to cool and soften when he realizes just who it is that dared to stop him from punishing his subordinate. The strength of his arm weakens and he brings it back to his side, fixing the cuff of his suit, while a smirk plays on his lips as he keeps his gaze on you.

“Y/N,” the way he says your name makes you want to vomit and though for a second looking at that familiar, disgusting smirk on his face causes your mind to want to resurface the memories of all the things he’s done, you keep them back in, focusing on other things to not trigger it. “Look at you, you’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you. What are you doing here in Norway? Came to pay me a visit?”

He doesn’t know what happened to your father, you realize through those words, which is a bit surprising because of how close the two of them were, but then again, after the wipe of your father and his people, it kind of makes sense Karl never got word of your father’s death.

Both Asher and Jungkook are confused about the way Karl is acting so friendly and close to you, as well as the way he just naturally turns his attention from being angry at Ester to invite you to take a seat.

You follow him and settle Kiwi in your lap and see the way he glances at the puppy, a slight bitterness contouring his features before it disappears all too quickly.

He doesn’t like Kiwi, that much is clear, and with the way he addresses you, you can tell this man still thinks you of the naive little girl who would submit to just anyone without fighting back.

“Your words are a lot sharper than they used to be,” he notes, remembering the way you spoke to him. “Seems you’re finally growing into the woman that your father trained you to be.”

With a hand stroking the fur of Kiwi’s, you take a look at his three men. One of them is someone you recognize, the other two are completely new faces.

“Tell me then, how have you been since I left Seoul?”

One year, he came and left — not even one year but a summer, four months — and that was all it took for him to do all the things he’d done.

“I have news to give you, sir,” you say and he tsks at you.

“Come on now, call me what you used to call me. We were close, weren’t we? Don’t treat me like a stranger now, Y/N.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and you bite your tongue back, resisting the urge to run from his touch. So with a tight grin, you give him the news he’s been needing to catch up on. “I am the Grim Reaper now..uncle.”

That amused expression on his face falls slightly, masked with surprise and confusion, and he takes one look at Jungkook who stands guard behind you, before returning his gaze back on you, flabbergasted.

“Your father’s dead?” He breathes, not believing it. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? How’d he die?”

Telling him the truth now would lead to an outburst from him and you can’t have Jungkook seeing that. Karl is a madman and if he knows of the truth here before strangers outside his and your people, he will definitely forget about the way your true relationship with your father is supposed to be kept a secret from the public.

“I apologize, uncle, preparations for his funeral and my succession took longer than expected.” Jungkook knows those words aren’t true but thankfully he knows to keep quiet.

“I could have helped,” Karl insists and you give him a pressed smile.

It’s strange the way he can’t comprehend just why the daughter of his friend whom he’s hurt many times did not want him involved in her family affairs, but you guess the minds of psychopaths are just like that. They can understand human emotions but they cannot feel them, and so they cannot emphasize with others.

“Do you not remember all the things you’ve done to me?” You want to ask him. “Do you not recall what you and father had done? Why would I want your help?” But you bite your tongue back just as Kiwi stirs from your touch, probably sensing a change in you.

The more you face the people who have done you wrong, the harder it is to keep the facade, you realize. Namjoon once said to stop before it all breaks you and you told him broken things cannot be broken even more but perhaps they can.

They can.

You’ve reached your breaking point before, not just once or twice, and yet it seems the world has just proven to you that glass can keep shattering and shattering until there is nothing left but dust.

Are you prepared to turn into dust?

You are. You’ve said it before.

“A broken glass can never mend itself to the way it used to be, the only thing it can do is break even more.”

You were prepared, your body was, but is your mind prepared? Will your mind ever be prepared?

No one is ever prepared to be broken, even if they think they are, and breaking again and again does not make you numb to the pain.

Kiwi whimpers on your lap, his head nuzzling into the palm of your hand when you stop stroking him. They say that dogs can smell human emotions and in turn, adopt them as their own, and hearing the distress whimpers, you try to return to Karl and give him a reply and yet nothing happens. You can’t even open your mouth to speak. You feel frozen on the spot.

Why now? Why now, whynow, whynow,whynowwhynow?

Footsteps are heard upon the silence of the room. “What’s making my Kiwi sound like that?” A low rumble demands an answer but you remain still, unable to move.

You feel paralyzed.

Kiwi looks up at his master’s voice for a second before going back to nuzzle against you and lend you his warmth, and while the people in the room stand up straight at his presence, Karl even going up to greet his father, you remain planted on the sofa.

Alexander ignores Karl to walk over to where his puppy is. He takes a glance your way, with Asher confused and Jungkook concerned and a little panicked because of the state you’re in, but rather than making this a big deal and reprimanding you for causing his puppy to sound the way he does, Alexander instead remains calm.

“Come here, Kiwi,” he calls, and though the pup hesitates at first, looking between you and his master, he eventually jumps up and into Alexander’s arms. “Karl, I’ll deal with you later. Right now I’m too busy to entertain guests.”

Though Karl looks like he wants to protest at first, he nods in reply, knowing he cannot talk back to his father. You were hoping he’d just leave it at that and go ahead with his men but for some reason, he just has to turn to you.

“My deepest condolences, Y/N. Let’s have tea to catch up next time, yeah?” Unable to grasp the situation, he reaches out to place a hand on your cheek, a smile on his face, before he arches his back straight again to bid Alexander goodbye.

In that moment, you stand, though it’s only because staying on that couch feels disgusting now having to sit still and do nothing when he reached out to touch you. You hate the touch, it burns you, but you remain silent when you stand a little behind Alexander, nodding Karl goodbye, and only once he leaves does the room feel a little easier to breathe in.

Just a little.

“Should I call Mingyu?” Jungkook asks when you return to the room Alexander prepared for you that first night you met him. He watches you with keen eyes and observance as you walk further into the room, away from the door, eyes still refusing to look anyone in the eyes, silent with a blank expression. “Or..should I leave the room?”

You don’t give him an answer but you’re thinking.

How far is it from here to the manor Namjoon prepared for you? A couple of minutes away by vehicle, which means it wouldn’t be that difficult for him to come here. But him coming here would mean a hassle because then you’d have to let the people here know that Mingyu’s one of yours and you don’t feel like interacting with anyone right now. A letter in your handwriting wouldn’t suffice either because they don’t know your handwriting.

You could honestly call Ester and describe Mingyu’s face to tell her he’s with you but that would mean interacting.

Jungkook could leave the room and yet the thought of him leaving gives a small dread in the pits of your stomach because you hate being alone and left in an unfamiliar place and right now he’s the only thing that’s familiar to you.

Familiar.

How funny that this familiar person left you to fend for yourself and gave you his cold shoulders when you needed him most.

And yet there’s no other choice.

So just like back in London when you familiarized yourself with Seokjin’s warmth and kindness for that split second, you turn around to face Jungkook.

He stands far from you, having not moved from the door since the two of you walked in, and a part of you hates that despite what he’s done to you, you know Jungkook is a man with natural kindness and would never do anything that would harm you on purpose. You see it in the way he keeps his distance, in the two questions he asked, how he doesn’t try to approach you, that unlike Karl who doesn’t know how to take a hint, he understands your fear of being touched by men even though you did allow Yoongi to hold you and poked Seokjin slightly on the shoulder.

He respects your boundaries. He always had, he always did.

So why did it have to end with him giving you the cold shoulders and pretending he hated you? Why did things have to turn out the way it did?

You’re so tired. Tired of everything.

“Come here,” you call for him, and you hate how even when you give him permission to come close, he still hesitates, concerned for the state of your mind.

When he approaches, his steps are slow, and once he’s inches away from you, you hold out the palm of your hand.

“I want you to help me with something,” you say, “you don’t have to do much, just..stay still and…and give me your hand.”

His brows are knitted, eyes staring down at your palm as if this isn’t a good idea. “I’m sorry,” he tells you, feeling conflicted. “Hoseok should have been here, we should have switched places. He would’ve been a better choice in—”

“I know Hoseok would have been the better choice but we can’t turn back time now can we?!” Your patience is starting to wear thin and when he flinches a little at the way you raise your voice, your own eyes widen at what you’d just done. Shocked at how easy it was to lose control, and when you begin to spiral out of fear for raising your voice at him, you put your hands in your hair, trembling.

“I’m sorry, please just…just help me, Jungkook. You have to replace what he did. I hate it, I hate his touch, and right now I’d rather feel your touch than his so please…please?” You look up at him, not caring that you’re pleading and looking desperate.

When he sees it, sees the way your eyes gloss over with a glaze of water, at your panicked tone and your begging for his help, he gives you his hand.

You take it and press his palm onto your cheek, over that burning feeling from where Karl touched you, and the peace that you yearned for doesn’t come right away. You struggle for a bit and your legs almost give in from the weakness but Jungkook’s right there to hold you up and bring you over to the bed so that you don’t have to rely on your legs.

He remains standing before you, watching as you rest your eyes while keeping his hand pressed to your skin.

It takes some time for the storm to wash away and for the calm to walk over but it comes, eventually, and when it does come, it isn’t in the way it is with Mingyu. Jungkook doesn’t give you the sort of calm that your second in command gives you, though you expected it because no one can replace Mingyu’s warmth.

The sort of calm Jungkook gives you follows with pain and grief over what had been lost all those years ago.

His warmth, his presence, his puppy-like self following you around, willing to do anything and everything for you. He’d always been such a quiet man who follows the rules well, who does everything with great effort, who is sometimes too naive and gets roped up in Jimin’s antics and gets scolded for things he didn’t do.

Always there to lend you his jacket when you shivered in the slightest way, always there to protect you from anyone that bothered you, noticing the smallest things, and though you relied on him for a lot of things, he relied on you in turn as well.

You understood him in ways the others couldn’t, the two of you in love like those two innocent little kids who were finding out what it meant to love someone for the first time. Soft and gentle, a bit awkward and clumsy.

“They didn’t have the drink that you like but I got you…” He walks back with a hand holding onto a glass of something for you to drink, but in the middle of his sentence, Jungkook’s expression falls. “...Something happened.”

Immediately, he’s shifting his head around to try and find who it was that approached you tonight but before he can get too far, you’re grabbing ahold of his arm and pulling his attention back on you.

“It…nothing happened,” you insist with a bit of panic on your expression, afraid of what Jungkook might do out in public like this, all the while trying to see if you can catch of glimpse of Namjoon anywhere on the floor. Thankfully he isn’t around, otherwise he’d be able to also tell something was wrong with one look your way.

There are days when hiding your emotions are easy and there are other days when it’s a little more difficult. Like on the days when people make you uncomfortable and you just can’t seem to hide it well. Those days are hard.

And Jungkook, who looks back at you, clearly doesn’t buy your little protest. “Y/N, I need you to just point out—”

“Please.” You squeeze his biceps, holding yourself close to him, pleading with your eyes as you look up at him, and Jungkook immediately recognizes just what those eyes are trying to tell him;

‘Don’t leave me alone.’

You’re frightened, he realizes, and after a small look around the room to check his surrounding, he brings you in close to him and keeps you by his side as he takes your hand and brings you around to an empty space where the two of you can be left alone together.

“Is there anything you need?” Is the first thing he asks you as he sits you down on a seat in the empty room, but you simply shake your head and squeeze his hand tight.

“Just you,” you say in a quiet voice, and Jungkook stays with you that night without ever leaving your side, all the while you simply hold onto the touch of his hand, the feel of it a comfort unlike any other.

His touch reminds you of those memories, of the past and the tears and the smiles, and though you hate the pain that it resurfaces, you’d rather revel in this pain than the pain of remembering the memories with Karl.

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