#that last one's rendering gave me sores

[cosmicwhoreo]

Decided to doodle more pre-litter Grand Reef Cookie because he is adorable

[imaginedanvrs]

encrypted relations

part 9 l masterlist

summary: yelena belova x reader. when natasha takes you under her wing, she becomes like family, and the last thing you want is to lose that. but when you meet her younger sister who you know is off limits, you have to decide between what you really want and hope for minimal damage

word count: 5.3k

warnings: kidnapping, torture, drugging, significant injuries and blood loss, death, graphic violence, references to past sexual assault

You couldn’t move when you woke up. There were rough restraints wrapped around your torso and limbs but they weren’t necessary in keeping you in place. You felt stiff and unbelievably sore, like when a scab heals in an area that makes it hard to bend your arm or leg, except you felt it across your entire body. 

  There was a laceration from the bottom of your neck to your shoulder that stopped you moving your head, several across both legs that rendered them immobile, one on your right forearm, a multitude across your stomach and one deep in your back that was being dug into by whatever surface you were laying on. You exhaled shakily, feeling tears run down your already stiff cheeks. 

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” Rae called from somewhere behind you. Your heart pumped wildly against your chest, despite already working to its limit to keep you alive. 

  The raven haired woman appeared at your side with an unmarked cylinder and gas mask in hand. She was smiling, beaming really, as she pulled up a chair and sat down next to you. You eyed the mask warrily, suddenly aware of the absence of blood in your mouth and how dry it had become since. You had no idea what they had done to you since you had been asleep, and you weren’t sure you wanted to know. 

  “I want you to stay awake for a bit so we can chat,” she told you, voice light as she fitted the mask over your mouth and nose. You tried to move your head to the side but the wound in your neck protested loudly at the stretch. You didn’t try to hold your breath, knowing it was futile as Rae opened the gas valve. You didn’t look at her as you breathed it in, instead focusing on the area around you. 

  There were clouded strip curtains that stopped you seeing any further than a few feet around you and the space was poorly lit. Next to your bed were machines you couldn’t make out without attempting to move your head again though you noticed several thin tubes entering your arms. You didn’t want to know what they were putting in your body. You didn’t want to know anything. You were trapped beneath a blanket of pain that prevented you from being able to focus on much else. 

  Rae pulled the paper thin sheet that was draped over your body off of you and you were somewhat glad that you couldn’t move your head to see the state that your body was in. But the vast stain of red was hard to miss, even out of the corner of your eyes, it was everywhere. She put her hand on your thigh where it seemed your trousers had been turned into shorts to provide access to your wounds across your legs. You winced at her touch, feeling it even through the pain. 

  “You haven’t really changed, you know?” She told you. “People like to believe they can change after they’ve done something bad. They decide to do some good acts, to try and make amends, but it doesn’t mean anything,” she sighs. “I suppose Natasha failed to inform you of that fact when she gave you a job, or maybe she thought it would be a good act of her own,” she pondered. You didn’t reply even when Rae removed the mask.

  “Tell me about her,” she said as she put the equipment down and rested her forearms and head on the edge of the bed next to your face. “Come on, sweetheart, I didn’t touch your vocal chords for a reason. Tell me about what Natasha and Yelena are like now.” You frowned, not sure what exactly it was Rae wanted to know about the sisters. You couldn't trust that it was for a harmless reason either. 

  “I know you’re fucking Yelena, so there must be some interesting things about her you can tell me,” she pushed impatiently and began to trace the edges of you neck wound. You swallowed thickly under her touch as you registered that Rae knew about you and Yelena. That explained why she sent the photo that she did. But was she trying to get to the blonde too?

  “She was the most ruthless child assassin the red room had ever seen,” Rae told you. You frowned, not understanding where Rae could have gotten that information from. “We were in all the same classes so I had to watch them praise her even after all the trouble she caused after her separation from Natasha.” You listened as intently as you could despite the occasional blaze of pain, trying desperately to put the pieces together but unable to catch on as fast as you would under any normal circumstance. 

  “No one ever seems to be punished for their actions anymore,” Rae told you as her fingers probed harder into your tender flesh. “Yelena and Natasha run away and are welcomed into the world. You go behind my back and get rewarded for it. And yet I stay loyal and get nothing,” she explained with clear agitation. 

  “Loyal… to who?” You forced the words out and felt like you were pushing them through a grinder. Rae looked down at you with a fond smile that made you sweat. 

  “The red room, malysh.” You stared at the woman above you as the temperature around you seemed to plummet. 

  “You’re a widow,” you whispered. Rae hummed, collecting some of your blood on her thumb and smearing it across your neck. 

  “There aren’t many of us left after what they did,” Rae recalled. “But we’re rebuilding. We’re replicating the serum Melina perfected when she was using her talents to their full potential and gathering the right people. And you, dorogoy, are one of them. You helped us years ago and you’ll do it again once the serums are ready,” she explained. 

  “I never helped you and I never will,” you protested weakly, trying to move your abused limbs to get as far away from Rae as you could but failed to her amusement. 

  “Yes, you did,” she corrected, producing a knife from the table next to her. “You were helping the moment I was sent to you and asked you out on that first date. That was always how it was meant to go,” she explained, picking something else up as you struggled, your mind racing as you realised how much worse the situation was than you had thought. Not only that, but hearing that even your best times with Rae were an act certainly pained you more than you would ever care to admit. You had once loved Rae, caught up in a relationship that had never been real.

  In your panicked haze, you didn’t register the click or the dancing orange flame Rae placed under the flat side of her knife. “Though of course I’m not expecting you to do any work in your condition, so we’re just going to close up those nasty wounds first,” Rae explained matter-of-factly as she lifted up your shirt and placed the glowing blade on the deepest slash.

~

Your apartment didn’t provide the same comfort to Yelena as it usually did. Your absence seemed to have stripped it of its refuge entirely and it instead felt like being in an empty shell that she had no right to stand in. Yelena always loved your apartment, even from the first time she broke in and hadn’t yet met you. She liked the slightly mismatched furniture that always seemed to have at least one blanket each and the clean smell they always seemed to carry despite you insisting on using unscented fabric wash. She liked the display of random artwork you had placed around the space, most of which being slightly scratched from you walking into them so many times. She liked the soft lighting from various lamps placed in specific areas to create the right brightness level that was never too harsh or dim. She liked that the apartment always smelt of you, even in that moment when she wandered through it alone. That would fade, she realised, unless you were back there soon. 

  Yelena walked into the kitchen and spotted a neglected mug left on the side next to the kitchen. You would never have done that purposefully, always insistent on having everything washed up and put away before you left the apartment so that you wouldn’t have to deal with it when you got back. Yelena had sometimes done it for you if you had fallen asleep before you were due to go out. 

  The blonde picked the mug up, recognising it to be your favourite one, and began to wash it with a small amount of soap, rinsed it, and put it to the side to drain as her eyes scanned your home for anything else out of place. That was when she noticed a piece of paper folded up on your coffee table. 

  Yelena picked up the discarded paper as she sat down and opened it up, seeing her name on the top line and realising it was a letter to her. She paused and considered putting the letter back, feeling intrusive to be looking through your belongings without you there to nag her to stop being so nosey. You never did truly care though. You always just threw a pillow at her and continued whatever you were doing to let Yelena carry on with her overt snooping. So she opened the paper back up and began to read.

  Yelena, 

  So I guess first and foremost, I’m sorry. I realised I’ve said that a lot by now, but I haven’t said what for. I’m sorry for being a complete moron for starters. It somehow never dawned on me that this was new territory for you so it was inevitable that there was going to be some confusion about what we actually were. Though I can tell you one thing, if we were dating I would have never wanted to keep that a secret, not that I enjoyed keeping the secret we had, but that would have been something I would want to announce to the whole world because you’re everything, Lena. You really are and you never deserved to be hidden. 

  I’m sorry I kept what we had a secret without giving it much thought about how you felt about that. You never said it bothered you, but I could tell in the last couple weeks that it did. I should have been able to tell sooner and I should have done something about it sooner, maybe even just addressed it better, but I was afraid of upsetting Nat. I know it's ironic and I definitely wasn’t trying to put my friendship with Nat above yours, but it terrified me to think I could lose her and I never once thought I would lose you. 

  I’m sorry for never telling you how I felt, that I was scared of us becoming something serious because last time that happened things didn’t end so well. That was something I never wanted to talk about, but that’s not just with you. I don’t want to think about the past, even though that’s what’s been holding me back this entire time, from not being able to give you all of me, from not being able to ask you out and from not being able to tell you that I love you.

  A droplet fell onto the second paragraph and Yelena swiftly wiped her cheeks of the tears that continued to fall. She let the letter drop to the floor as she leant back against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling as she fought to control her breathing. It was all too much. She had thought she lost you days ago, and then to discover that you actually loved her. Now you weren’t there for her to go to? It hurt almost too much to bear. She needed you but knew you needed her more in that moment. Things could have been different if she just stayed to hear you out. If she stayed that night, you wouldn’t have been on your own in the days that followed. If she had stayed that night, she wouldn’t have left your side until you were begging for space. Because she loved you too. 

  Yelena sprang up for her place on the sofa when she heard the lock on the other side of your apartment door being adjusted. The blonde raised her wrist with her widow bites wrapped around and narrowed her eyes at the door, ready to shoot whoever was about to invade your space. Yelena lowered her arm with a shaky exhale when Kate opened the door, stumbling slightly when she saw the Russian already there. 

  “Hi,” Kate muttered, taking in Yelena’s state. The blonde nodded, her eyes falling to the two dogs at her side and felt her heart squeeze when she saw Marty trot towards her. She knelt down on the floor within a second and pulled the dog close to her chest, feeling him nuzzle into her and taking little notice of Kate who awkwardly shifted in the doorway. 

  “Marty’s a fussy eater when y/n’s not around,” Kate explained as she trudged over to the kitchen where you kept the dog food. 

  “Marty,” Yelena scolded softly as she scratched under his ears. 

  “Any news?” Kate asked when a silence settled over the apartment. Yelena stiffened slightly and stood up, trying to recollect her composure in front of the young archer. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Kate seeing her upset, it was just that she didn’t like anyone seeing her upset. 

  “We found her phone. Stark reckons it had been hacked,” Yelena informed. “But I think she would have noticed something like that,” she added, not believing that that was really what happened. 

  “She wasn’t thinking properly,” Kate pointed out, despite how uncomfortable it was to do so. “I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. It was only then that Yelena noted the redness and bags under Kate’s eyes. “I told her she should have stayed with me for a few days but she wanted to come back here. I should have insisted more. I was at home when it happened so I would have been able spot it or-”

  “It is not your fault, Kate,” Yelena told her sternly, cutting off Kate’s rambles the moment she noticed the light shimmering off of her eyes. If Kate started crying, she probably would too. “She will be back soon,” Yelena assured as she picked up the letter and stuffed it in her coat pocket. Kate clocked it instantly and noticeably brightened at the sight of the paper. 

  “I hope she said everything she needed to,” the archer said. 

  “I will double check when I see her,” Yelena informed lightly, making Kate smile as her eyes still shimmered. She nodded, picking up the bag of food and called for Marty to follow her out. 

  “Call me if- when you hear something,” Kate requested. 

  “Okay,” Yelena said, unsure if she was going to actually do it. As far as she knew, Kate hadn’t seen the inside of that warehouse so she had no idea what she could be facing if she helped. For the time being, it was best if Kate stayed away. Besides, Yelena didn’t want the young archer to see what she would do when she got her hands on the people that took you from her. 

~

Thankfully, you spent the majority of your time unconscious once Rae began to cauterise, your body able to spare you the sympathy of that alone. You spent most of your fleeting moments of consciousness alone and in incredible pain, but every so often there was someone in the room with you and it wasn’t always Rae. You didn’t recognise the others and they never acknowledged you. You didn’t try to talk to them, far too exhausted to even entertain the idea. 

  There was no possible way for you to know that several days passed with you laying in that bed. Every so often your condition would decline, then stabilise, sometimes improving. The widow’s resources weren’t as impressive as they were in the previous red room and at times they struggled to attain what you needed, having to cut corners that aided in your wavering recovery. You weren’t aware of any of that though, even when Rae told you. 

  She talked to you a lot. Rarely did anything she said actually process and perhaps that was why she did it, but her presence and voice agitated you at the times where you had the energy to care. She talked about Natasha and Yelena the most, telling you what they were like to grow up with. She hated them, that much was clear. And you hated her. 

  There was one thing you were aware of above all else and that was that you were beginning to lose feeling in your lower back down to your toes. It had just been numb at first, the pain still prominent in your lower half, but overtime you realised that you could feel the rough restraints against your arms and torso more than you could your legs. You tried not to focus too hard on it, knowing you were incapable of doing anything about it, but you couldn’t help but wonder what condition you would find yourself in in the month that followed, provided you made it that long. 

~

  “I’ve got something!” Tony called, taking Yelena and Natasha’s attention away from checking their phones for the umpteenth time to appear next to the American and stare at his screen. “I think I’ve managed to get through the fake traces and find the genuine one,” he explained, bringing up a satellite image. Several more pixelated images appeared alongside it to give the three a general idea of what the perimeter looked like. 

  “Are you sure?” Natasha confirmed as she examined the contents in front of her. 

  “Looking at the kind of defence they have on the perimeter of the sight and the kind of signals coming off of it, this is it,” Tony said. “Want me to call it in to the team?”

  “No, just Wanda. We need to be subtle about this so that we don’t get noticed,” Natasha explained. “And make sure all the support vehicles stay clear until we give them the go ahead.” 

  “Got it,” Tony said as the sisters were already leaving to retrieve everything they needed. They didn’t have any time to waste, already made anxious by how long it had taken to get the location confirmed. You would have found it sooner. 

  “Yelena,” Natasha said as the pair slipped on their tactical suits and loaded them with the needed weapons. It didn’t go unnoticed to the older sister that Yelena was loading more than she needed. The blonde hummed in response. “Sestra.” Yelena looked up at that, noting Natasha’s concern. “You need a clear head for this, no one will think less of you if you want to stay behind,” she assured. Yelena scoffed and turned around as she finished securing her weapons. 

  “I’m coming,” she said, leaving no room for arguing. 

  “And I’m not going to stop you, I just need to know that you’re not going to be reckless,” Natasha insisted, concerned that there could be a red tint to her sister’s vision that could escalate the mission. 

  “Being reckless could cost y/n her life. I will not do that,” Yelena said, slamming a locker shut and marching out of the room.

  Natasha wasn’t blind to Yelena’s cold shoulder since you had gone. She had been giving it to everyone, but the redhead knew that there could be several reasons why she was getting it. In Yelena’s eyes, Natasha’s disapproval of her involvement with you was what made you so scared to allow it to progress the way you both wanted. And she was right, but that was never the redhead’s intention and she was still trying to find the right moment to tell her that. For the time being, the best thing Natasha could do for her sister was stop her getting too hot headed. 

  Wanda was already waiting for them by the jet though one glance at Yelena told her that there wasn’t going to be much chat on the way there. She was concerned for your wellbeing too, but the Sokovian always needed an extra run through of the plan before a mission and Natasha didn’t hesitate to do so, their voices being the only ones to carry through the plane on the way. 

  They had to make the last stretch of their approach to the base on foot as despite the jet’s cloaking technology, they couldn’t risk being detected by whatever technology your captures possessed. The trio stopped short of the tree line along the edge of where the base was established in an abandoned prison in the 70s. There wasn’t a great deal of noticeable security, but the building's foundations played against the three heroes even with them knowing the rough floor plan. 

  Once they came across their first patrol, Wanda used her red mist to render the guard unconscious as the swiftest and most discreet way to do so, though a frown flickered across her features as red overtook the guard’s eyes and she slumped against the Sokovian. “What is it?” Natasha asked. 

  “Her mind,” Wanda began. “It’s… clouded,” her frown deepened and Yelena huffed. 

  “It doesn’t matter, let’s keep moving,” she insisted, already moving out from behind the corner and finding herself face to face with two more guards. They raised their guns with a shout but the blonde was quicker and stunned them both with her widow bites. 

  “Yelena,” Natasha warned. The plan had been for Wanda to deal with as many as the guards as possible. “They’re widows,” she announced when she spotted the identical weapons on the women’s wrists. Yelena paused, glancing back to where her teammates still lingered. 

  “I think they’re using the serum,” Wanda said. She of course had no experience with biotechnology, but from what she had been told about it and what she saw when she peered into just one mind, she was sure that was the cause. 

  “We’ll deal with it once y/n is safe,” Yelena hissed as she continued to stalk through the corridor. Wanda and Natasha exchanged a concerned glance and followed. 

  The new red room that the trio found themselves in was nothing like the original. It was clear that whoever was running it didn’t have the power, wealth or technology that Drekov did, but it was a running operation nonetheless. The control room that Natasha begrudgingly continued past had several screens set up with pinpoints coordinated though they seemed to only expand inside the US. There was a lab too, a simple one, that seemed to be producing the serum at a steady pace and those inside handling it appeared to do so with caution. Judged on these factors alone, Natasha got the feeling that no one in the base truly knew what they were doing. But the widows still knew how to fight. 

  As the three women continued to make their way through the building, Yelena showed no hesitance in handling the widows a little more aggressively than necessary. Wanda and Natasha reminded her numerous times that it would be more efficient for Wanda to handle the guards as Yelena’s advances were becoming gradually less quiet, but the blonde ignored them, set on getting to you. It took a while, but eventually Yelena opened the right door. 

  Peering around the compact room, all Yelena could see at first were the series of five strip curtains. The ones closest to the door were open, displaying an empty bed without any sheets or pillows with drawers overflowing with bandages and wraps next to it. It was some kind of medical ward, so Yelena crept in with Wanda behind her and Natasha watching the door. 

  The blonde pulled back each set of curtains to reveal more empty beds until she pulled back the last set and revealed your blood soaked one. Natasha swore internally when she saw Yelena take in your form, knowing that it was bad and that she should have prepared her sister for what she would find. 

  “Let me carry her,” Wanda said gently as she took the tubes out of your arms, watching the monitor next to you carefully as she did so. It was a gamble taking you away from the machines and medicine, but you couldn’t stay attached to them on the way out. 

  Yelena didn’t move. She stood in place and watched you sleep, noting how your chest wasn’t rising as much as it usually did and that you didn’t look peaceful like she always told you. She couldn’t help but stare at the deep wounds you wore across your body that looked as though they had been burned shut while others were wrapped. Even the bandages were stained red. 

  Once Wanda was done, she let her powers wrap securely around you, lifting you gradually into the air without you waking. “We need to go,” she said when Yelena didn’t move. Fortunately that was enough to break Yelena from her trance and she led the way out, avoiding Natasha's gaze. 

  The older sister let Yelena storm on ahead, knowing that she was in no mood to receive any comfort in that moment and that they probably didn’t have the time to give it. Given how many guards Yelena had left lying around, someone was bound to have noticed, and yet no alarms sounded. 

  “You guys are leaving already?” Rae asked, standing between the group and their exit. “And taking my stuff with you?” She frowned with faux hurt. 

  “She’s not yours, Rae,” Natasha declared as she stepped closer, immediately recognising the woman she had spent so long trying to track down. Natasha had never stopped, she promised you that, but Rae had been a ghost. 

  “But I thought we could talk before you go, it’s been twenty years,” she said as she stared at the widows with interest. 

  “Ruslana,” Yelena muttered as she registered that the woman in front of them wasn’t a stranger, but someone quite familiar. They had trained together, never with Natasha who she had only spent time with on that one mission, and the bitterness that had always been prominent in her performances was just as clear twenty years later. 

  “There you are,” Ruslana beamed. “Put y/n down and let me show you what I’m building,” she said, beckoning the widows that emerged from the surrounding corridors. 

  “Wanda,” Natasha warned. 

  “Going,” she agreed, having been in enough similar situations to know that a head start was always helpful. She started back the way she came with you close by her side. 

  “Tony, we need the widow’s antidote right now.” Natasha ordered into her coms. “Yelena, come on!” Natasha urged. As much as she wanted to stay to make sure Ruslana faced what she had assured you she would someday get, it wasn’t the time.

  “Oh but Yelena, I was hoping we could exchange stories about our shared ex,” she pushed. Yelena’s gaze hardened. “Though I’m sure I'll win my y/n back once she’s got that serum in her,” Ruslana said, just as the widows around them bolted forwards as one. 

  “Yelena!” Natasha yelled, having no choice but to advance on the widows and give Wanda more time to get away with you. At that same moment, Yelena went straight for Ruslana who welcomed her advance with a grin. 

  The blonde struck at Ruslana just as she produced a concealed knife from her waistband and slashed it across Yelena’s forearm with precision. Yelena hissed at the burn but managed to land several punches with her anger driving her. 

  “I was so sorry to hear that things didn’t work out between you and y/n,” Ruslana continued to taunt as she outmanoeuvred the attacks she had been trained in. “You guys seemed cute together.”

  “Fuck you,” Yelena spat. Her red vision was beginning to be a problem and stopped her noticing Ruslana’s tricks that allowed her to get a couple more swipes from the knife in hand. She couldn’t understand how you had ever been with a widow, or how Natasha recognised her. 

  “I’m sure you got enough of that from y/n. I taught her what she knows so you’re welcome for that,” she snipped. 

  “Yelena, we need to go now!” Natasha bellowed as the distance between her and Yelena gradually increased. She couldn’t keep the widows back for much longer and she couldn’t leave without her sister who wasn’t listening to a word she said. 

  One wrong move from Yelena and her legs were brought out from under her as Ruslana forced her to the ground with her knee in the blonde’s ribcage and her knife against her neck. Ruslana gazed down at Yelena with wild eyes, having anticipated that triumph ever since she was training in the red room. Yelena struggled, but the knee on her chest was pressing dangerously against her lungs. 

  “Oh you two really were perfect for each other,” Ruslana cooed. “You both look so good when you’re fighting for your lives,” she hissed with a manic grin. “And you both had it coming. I just wish I had hit her a couple more times with that axe,” she mused. At the confirmation that Ruslana was responsible for your injuries, something in Yelena snapped. 

  She hauled Ruslana’s head back by her hair and snatched the knife swiftly enough that Ruslana couldn’t stop her. She flipped their bodies over with enough force that the older Russian’s head hit the concrete with a sickening thud that Ruslana barely had the time to process because Yelena was bringing her knife down on her throat, digging it into the bone. Ruslana’s eyes widened as her lungs filled with blood and she gazed up at Yelena, gargling on the blood that had managed to pool in her mouth. Yelena lifted the blade out and brought it back down on her chest, directly into your attacker’s heart. The puncture was a deep one but drawn out enough that Yelena got to witness the moment it all registered for Ruslana. 

  “Suka,” Yelena muttered, keeping the knife lodged in Ruslana’s body and turning back to Natasha who had watched what she had done. 

  The pair didn’t waste another second in returning the way they had come with the widows hot on their trail. It would have been simpler just to take the exit in front of them, but they had to follow after Wanda to ensure she had made it out okay too. They had no reason to worry. 

  Just as the Russians made it out of the prison, they saw Wanda standing just several feet away with her arms raised and eyes set on the widows behind them. In an instant, a barrier was placed across the doorway much to the widows displeasure. They protested and fought against Wanda’s magic but it remained strong. 

  “Take her to the jet,” Natasha ordered to Yelena. “Me and Wanda need to keep the widows here until the antidote arrives,” she said with a finality Yelena didn’t question. She looked down at your still sleeping form and picked you up in the most comfortable position for your wounds, not wanting to cause more damage. 

  Yelena carried you for half a mile at the fastest jog she could physically handle. Though you didn’t wake for the entire journey, your rattly breathing echoed through Yelena’s consciousness and gave her the drive to continue to the awaiting jet. She couldn’t wipe away the sweat on her forehead or the tears falling down her cheeks because she mostly focused on the dampness that was spreading across her suit from you. Her own injuries were minor and foolish in comparison. 

  The medical team took over as soon as you and Yelena were in sight of the jet but Yelena was adamant on carrying you all the way, not trusting anyone to be as quick or careful as she was. When she finally laid you down on the awaiting stretcher, she took several stumbling steps back and watched on as the medics went to work, suddenly feeling useless as all she could do was observe the strangers save your life.

[emerald-chaos]

hehehehe hey y’all it’s me again.

Remener how nothing bad at all happened on this season of jjk and we got to watch Nanami go to Malaysia with absolutely nothing else occurring? me too. What a fantastic season. :-)

In the process of mourning, grieving, sobbing, coming to terms with the fact that the season was over—I spotted this piece of absolute gold on Twitter and it gave me a little bity idea. Thus, this fic was born! I hope you enjoy loving on Kento as much as i do <3.

pairing: Nanami Kento x gn!reader (no descriptors mentioned)

warnings: none :-) just a fluffy little self-indulgent piece (to stave off the horrors)

divider by by @/cafekitsune

not beta’d, we die like men

After finally finishing some work that you’d been putting off until the last minute (one of Nanami’s lesser enjoyed traits of yours), you stood up from the chair and stretched your body out. A few pops here and there as well as a soft groan tumbling from your lips as your sore muscles cursed you for the horrible posture you’ve never bothered to fix.

“Sweetheart, how on earth do you sit like that?”

“I’ll have you know this is my body’s natural position.”

“To curl around yourself like a shrimp?”

Nanami’s teases dance through your head as you smile to yourself, turning off the lamp at your desk and retreating from the room—making sure to close the door behind you so none of your pets made their way inside.

Tired feet carry you toward your bedroom, a yawn rippling through your body—one strong enough to cause a tear to well up in your eye. A hand, balled into a fist, reaches up and catches it before it threatens to drop down your cheek. Stealing a glance at the clock in the hallway, you couldn’t help but grin to yourself.

Barely half past midnight.

You couldn’t wait to gloat in Kento’s face about how quickly you’d finished all that work. His nagging words entering your head again—something, something, “you’ll be in here all night trying to finish what you could’ve done throughout the week”.

Never underestimate the power of a stressed individual who’s put off every single task until the last possible minute.

Your fingers curl around the doorknob, preparing the must smug face you can muster as you turn it and push the door inward. Stepping in to the room, you open your mouth to begin your taunts but as your eyes fall on your bed you find yourself rendered silent.

There, sat up against the headboard with the covers over his lap, was your sweet husband—fast asleep. The book he’d been reading seems to have slipped forward out of his hands onto his lap, page still open to where he’d presumably left off as his thumb barely pressed the pages apart.

The sight made you want to rip out your heart (in a good way).

Taking careful steps forward, you investigated the scene before you a little more. Kento’s head was leaned back, slightly tilted to the side as his glasses rested upon his nose. There was a soft rise and fall to his chest, lips parted as he exhaled air through them. At his feet on top of the blanket was the cat he said he didn’t want, curled into a perfect little ball—snoozing just like their father.

As your eyes wandered over to your side of the bed, you felt your heart clench in your chest once again. On your nightstand was your water bottle and the sheets had been pulled back for you, as though he was doing his best to stay awake until you came back to bed.

Turning back to him, you gently slipped your phone from your back pocket and snapped a few photos of the too perfect for words sight in front of you. Smiling, you tossed your phone on your side of the bed and gently removed the book from Kento’s hand—ensuring to capture the page he was on with the bookmark on his nightstand. It was obvious how exhausted he was, given that he didn’t move an inch as you did so.

Gently pulling the glasses off of his face, you placed them on top of the book you’d just retrieved. Smiling at the soft sigh Kento let out in his sleep, you brushed a few stray strands of blonde hair away from his eyes before getting your own self ready to climb in bed.

Finishing your routine, you’d plugged your phone in and sighed your own soft noise as you slipped into the comfort of your sheets. Triple checking you’d set your alarm one last time, turned off your bedside lamp, and you turned to the sleeping man beside you with a smile. You leaned in gently, pressing a few kisses to his cheek and jaw before snuggling down and draping yourself over his chest. The smile on your face only grew as you listened to the soft thump of his heartbeat in your ear.

Within seconds, that familiar heaviness of sleep found itself in your eyes as you began to drift off to sleep.

You supposed gloating could wait until the morning—moments like these with Nanami were already so few and far between.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Spinoff Story Vampire & Vampire Hunter part 2

Warnings: severe silver poisoning of vampire, captured vampire, whumper turned whumpee

Alex's head was pounding when he came back to consciousness. He took a few shaky breaths to ground himself before forcing his eyes open. His whole body ached -- he could still feel the effects of the Hemlock and silver poisoning in his system, weakening him.

His gaze darted down, and he realized he was cuffed to a chair bolted to the floor. He was fully and thoroughly restrained. The hunters keeping him knew what they were doing, and had taken every precaution. And he could tell by scent alone that the cuffs were made of silver. The only thing separating the metal from his skin was some soft padding to keep it from burning him. But the silver would keep him from breaking free.

Then his gaze slid to the side where his arm hurt, and he realized there was an IV line hooked up to him. Probably pumping him with more Hemlock to keep him weak and... less dangerous.

His jaw was sore from the metal bit wedged between his teeth right behind his fangs and the straps holding the muzzle tightly to his face. The bit didn't feel like it was part of the muzzle itself, but it was almost like it was suctioned to the roof of his mouth – he couldn't move it with his tongue. But something told him it was the least of his worries right now.

Because Mallory. That cursed human. He should have known better than to let his guard down even a hair. He wouldn't have been caught otherwise. He should have seen it coming, should have heard or scented the accomplices he had come with.

But they had been downwind of him, and Alex had a gut notion that that had been the intention. The whole setup was professional and well-thought-out. But what did they want from him? Why would vampire hunters want to catch a vampire alive? Their whole job was about killing them.

Maybe to study me and create better weapons against my kind, he theorized. Mad science experiments, perhaps? I read a book about that some decades ago...

Now he really wished he'd read and studied more about human behavior and habits when he'd had the chance. He'd flunked it so spectacularly when Mallory had been his pet, but once he'd released him he thought he had no need to know such knowledge about humans anymore.

But ohhhhh how wrong he was. He gave his restraints an experimental tug, testing his range of movement and trying to strategize a plan. But they were too tightly clamped on his wrists for him to slip out of, pinned straight to the arms of the chair he was in. No give whatsoever.

He leaned his head back with a frustrated groan, mind buzzing as the silver poisoning wore off. But the Hemlock alone would still do the job of keeping him helpless and vulnerable. He'd never been rendered so useless, so defenseless before. He was a vampire, used to being at the top of the food chain. A creature few would dare even confront, let alone try to capture.

His gut twisted in knots of dread. He was way out of his element here, and the fear that had grabbed ahold of him was unlike anything he'd ever felt. Fear was something new to him, a foreign sensation. The last time he remembered being afraid was back when he was first Turned, over three centuries ago.

But right now, he was terrified.

The room he was in was large, but devoid of any art whatsoever, a blank box of four white walls blocking him in. He was pretty sure one wall had to have a one-way mirror, though. There was a chair placed a few feet in front of him facing his direction, like in an interrogation room.

His head snapped to the left at the sound of footsteps and voices, and he saw the door to his prison open. He stiffened, eyes feral and wary. If he had a heartbeat, it would be racing like a rabbit's.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @nevermore-ramblings @mj-or-say10

@tippytappytyping

[foxydivaxx]

Another classic example of Wrestler Au Sanji’s stellar mic skills

Judge: I wonder what Sanji even sees in you

Sanji: *walks down the ramp* Who the fuck told ya it was open night mic bitch?!

Everyone: Whoa!!

Sanji: *gets in the ring and glares at his dad* What’s wrong old fart? Did ya see a ghost? Or is that old rotten brain of yours short circuiting? Is that an electric spark I see going off there?

Zoro: *snickers*

Sanji: Either way, since I am Smackdown’s general manager, let me make some things real clear to you. You see this guy right here? *points at Zoro* Don’t you ever ever fucking yap my husband!! Like bitch that is my fucking job!! I mean granted, Marimo here cannot control his fucking dick half the time. But who am I to talk? I open my damn legs to the other motherfuckers at the back and none of them ever fucking satisfy me!! I mean, they are not as deranged as Marimo here.

Yusuke: Shit *laughs*

Gojo: *falls over laughing*

Sanji: Now Mossy and I have one rule. If we are gonna get frisky with the others, never ever bring that shit to the house. I am saying this now because the last time Marimo tried that shit, I gave him a nice trip to space mountain and milked him dry to the point where he spent all month long screaming, “WOOO!!” Because I am that bitch in case he did not say so and why would he since I am his bitch!!! Like I am not that same Sanji you bastards used to fuck with!! I guess having that monster dick up my ass 24/7 has brought out my inner bitch!!

Everyone: *laughs*

Sanji: He may be the Demon Prince but I do not fear this motherfucker in any shape or form and I make sure he knows that once I have him begging and moaning like the fucking bitch that he is!! But the very next day, he gets to have his revenge for obvious reasons and he fucks me so damn good that I am literally sore the next day. That’s how we roll. So your stupid talk about Marimo’s dick is rendered invalid.

Commentator: Uh oh

*Everyone’s jaws drop at that revelation*

Ichiji: Bitch what?!

Sanji: So I suggest you bitches take your fucking asses and get out of my fucking ring before I fucking kill someone!!

Dio: He got a big mouth *laughs*

Gilgamesh: Man Zoro is one lucky S.O.B

[eternal-silvertongued-prince]

Rules: post 3 snippets from published work and 3 from your wips

Oh boy, having to choose which WIP to take snippets from took way too long.

Published:

The Thanksgiving Dilemma

The heat that radiated off his body was a surprising contrast to his normally chilled hands. The need for air finally broke the kiss, but it didn’t stop him from stealing a few more pecks. “You–  Severus, overwhelm me in the most wonderful way.” You pulled away just enough to see his whole face. “Whenever you are around it’s as if all my thoughts cease to exist and there is only you. The simplest of your touches render me without breath. Severus, you have no idea how long I have been waiting, hoping, to hear that you felt the same way that I did about you.”

Family

"...what are you doing still standing there! Get into something cosy so you can help your wife and child out decorating this tree.” You spun him around and gave his tush a tap to get him moving. His glare was harmless, but the smile was sincere. He gave you one last kiss and bent down to give your belly one for good measure as well.

A Birthday to Remember

It seems that you weren’t the only one who noticed Severus zoom by because the second he disappeared around the corner, two Slytherins beside you began a hushed (not really) whisper. “There goes Snape again. Do you think that bloke has a single friend?” “Not that I know of. Heard Lucius say that it’s his birthday tomorrow. Wonder if…” The rest of their conversation was lost on you. It was his birthday tomorrow?! That’s it!

WIP:

Be My Valentine

It was abundantly clear to everyone after the years of being single and alone, that he was not a fan of the holiday. So why in the nine realms did an owl drop off a bloody Valentine for him? Thinking it was a mistake, he grabbed the paper and cautiously flipped it over. Sure enough, written on the top in white ink was one Severu– wait. Did he read that correctly? Bringing his finger to the paper, he traced over the faint ridges imprinted by the delicate script that definitely spelt out his name. Okay… so it wasn’t an illusion of some sort, and all his years of solidarity have not rendered him delusional. His fingers tightened around the note as he stood abruptly to leave the hall, not giving breakfast a second thought. In his rush to separate himself from the rest of Hogwarts, he failed to notice a pair of eyes follow his frame as it made its way out the door.

Duelling Partner for Life

“Yeah, to be fair, I am a little bit of a sore loser.” “You and Professor Snape went on a date?!?” The students could not fathom the idea of their tall, rude, and snarky Professor going on a date, let alone be interested in someone as bright and happy as you. “Dates”, you corrected. “He and I still go on them whenever the time allows it.” “Why?” A Gryffindor pipes up from the side. Snape answers before you can say anything. “It is as if that is what people who are in a relationship do.” Sarcasm heavy in his voice as you giggle at his response.

Reminisce

“Normally I would not take any help from anyone, especially not a student, but seeing as this is a real urgency and you are not totally incompetent in potions, I suppose an extra set of hands would not be the worst thing. We could certainly produce more than enough to hold the school at bay with this retched virus going around.” “Wow, that was the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever received.” His nose twitched as he tried to suppress the sneer on his face. “What else would you want from me?” “Maybe a please, professor” you smirked. “Don’t push it Miss L/N.” “Very well, sir. Let’s get started then, shall we?”

BONUS WIP (Bc I feel so bad being MIA for so long)

Snape took a sip from the tumbler you placed in front of him, letting the amber liquid warm his throat. “You were my favourite student, you know?” “Really? That's surprising and not at the same time. You were my favourite professor.” He shot you a look with raised eyebrows as if to tell you he hardly believed that. As skeptical as he looked, you couldn't help but laugh at how absurd it also sounded to you. “It’s true. It just so happened that you taught my favourite subject, too.” “Does that mean I have to watch out for you trying to take my job?” He drily stated as he took another sip. You chuckled and moved to clean up behind the bar just to keep your hands busy. “No need to worry. I am applying for the open DADA position.” He looked sullen for a second before replying, “You’d make a good DADA professor.” You stopped what you were doing because hearing that from him certainly surprised you. “You really think so?” A smirk appeared on his face.

[finite-breakpoints]

phantom pain (Angstpril 2024, #10)

[ Previously: a little too late ]

::Your shoulder's acting up.:: Julia nudges him a little, trying to get a better look -- Siv can't see it, of course, but he can feel that tiny bit of resistance under her fingertips, resurfacing pin sockets reducing her touch to nothing but faint pressure on his skin. ::Doesn't look good. You need to have someone look at it again.::

::Yeah, I know.:: The medical center's still short-staffed, even with the influx of programs from Advan's… rehabilitation centers. If he can avoid making it worse, he does. ::Give it a couple cycles, it'll calm down.::

::Siv.::

::What?:: He sits up, stretches out -- it's sore. Been a while since that's happened. ::The circuits haven't split off, right? Doesn't feel like it.::

::No. Looks close, though.::

::You know it's not a big deal. As long as the port stays closed, anyway.::

::I know it means you're stressed, and that you're acting like things are fine, and you won't tell me why.::

::Do we really have to do this right now?:: Immediately hates himself for the way it sounds. She isn't wrong, but it's not like he can tell her what's going on. Not without freaking her out, which is the last thing either of them need, lately. Besides, she has a point, and he can't fault her for being worried about him. ::…Sorry. I'll go to the medical center first thing next cycle. Promise.::

::Gonna hold you to it.::

::I know. --But you don't have to. It's not your job anymore.::

::It's not about obligation. Never was. You know that.:: She yawns. ::I mean, you'd still do it for me, wouldn't you?::

::Yeah. Of course I would. No question.:: He leans over -- carefully, just in case she's right -- and kisses her on the cheek. ::Alright, I'll go patch this up. Go back to sleep.::

She hums something like an assent, and he watches her circuits dim to a slow pulse. A little too proud of herself, honestly…

Siv stands up, doing his best not to disturb her. He's a little out of practice, but he manages it. Closes the door behind him before turning on the light. He's missed this. Missed her. When did they start to drift off in separate directions?

The answer, of course, is looking back at him in the mirror. And then in triplicate, as he unfolds the panels. Shifts slightly, trying to get a better look at the dense array of silver scars stretching across his right shoulder, beginning to mirror to the left. Glowing brighter than they should; maybe it's worse than he thought.

Pulls out a set of patches, the wide ones that will cover most of it. Even the damage patches designed for data processors can't always handle it. The pin sockets are too close together, and there's too many of them, for it to adhere properly. And this doesn't quite stick, either.

It'll do for now. A stopgap, just like everything else.

This is a face he's become more comfortable with, over the cycles. Something that has to be settled into, every time his render changes -- and it hadn't come easily, this last time. A bigger change than it usually is, something that almost felt like a rollback. Too much like his sister -- who isn't exactly herself anymore… not really.

"And whose fault is that?"

The figure standing behind his reflection has no circuits to speak of -- but she radiates a faint light nonetheless. Someone both distant and achingly familiar. Not Yori -- no, Advan -- although easily mistaken. The same look Advan had given him, when she'd arrived in Gallium -- surprise, then disappointment, in how much he'd changed.

"Clu did this to her," he says quietly. "I don't know how. She should have been safe from it. It shouldn't have worked."

"You could have stopped her. You could have stopped so much of this -- but you've left behind everything I gave you."

--And then his input regulators wake up, the impossible sensation of all those pins reconnecting. For just a clock-cycle, he wants more than anything to feel the rush of free-flowing information through his circuits. The chance to chase down the root of the corruption spreading through the Grid, hold it up to the light… and pull it apart, line by line.

She's right. He could have, at one time. But the data rig in the Archives, the one Polaris had taken with him when he left Tron City, refuses to wake for him. Siv isn't a processor anymore -- the System's given him another purpose. The prototyping lab; giving his betas a home, untangling them from what the Occupation's done to them. The network; keeping watch over the programs of Gallium, giving them the tools to fight their own battles.

In the mirror, his circuits shiver -- momentarily giving way to those waveform patterns that increasingly feel less alien, the more he shifts into them, interacts with the network in them. And he knows then, beyond any doubt, that his User's wishes are no longer a factor. Not in his render, not in his function, and not in his decisions.

"No. I took what I needed, and left the rest." Siv takes a deep breath, willing himself to look her in the eye -- and then to stay standing, under the crushing weight of her gaze. "And I don't need you anymore."

"Do you really believe that?"

Before he can answer, the regulator circuits branch off, spidering across his shoulders with no input to temper them. Some long-sleeping part of his code reactivates, reaches out in a desperate reflex… and finds nothing in return, as Lora-Prime watches his circuits burn with something that might just be a smile.

"When you change your mind, I'll be here."

And then the whole room spins, and blinks into nothingness.

[dontknowmanijustworkhere]

Summary: (In this, Hermione plays quiddich). Harry makes the mistake of joking that Hermione and Ginny are both sweaty which sparks ruthless revenge

Takes place during HBP

@ultimatelee19

I know I already apologized for taking so long but again, I'm very sorry! Next time you have a request, it won't take as long as this did

///

After an intense practice, Harry snuck the girls up to the sixth year boys dormitory to catch their breath and relax. The other boys were out elsewhere, though Ron should be back soon. Harry had lost track of his best friend once practice concluded.

"I'm so sore," Hermione grimaced. "I don't know what I was thinking when I let you all talk me into this."

Ginny didn't have that same ache. She was used to playing with her brothers back home. "Come on, Hermione. You'll get over it. You just have to keep practicing."

Hermione didn't look convinced. "I suppose."

"You were great out there," Ginny continued to encourage her.

"She's right," Harry piped up. "It was really impressive for it only being your third practice."

Hermione was smiling, her cheeks pink.

"At this rate, we'll definitely win against Slytherin," Ginny said, throwing her arm around Harry's neck.

"Maybe you can manage that without being so sweaty," Harry joked, sliding himself out of Ginny's hold.

"What?" The redhead demanded.

"Err, you're sweaty, Ginny. Hermione too."

"What?" Hermione said, frowning. "So are you."

"It's not that bad," Ginny protested. He shrugged. "It's not!"

"Sorry, Gin. Just telling the truth," he said, a small smile of amusement peeking out.

Ginny narrowed her eyes playfully. "You've done it now, Potter."

"What does that-" Harry was tackled to the floor. She straddled him. "What the- What are you doing?" He'd gone a little red given the position they were both in, her on his waist like that.

"I'm going to teach you a lesson on how not to talk to a girl," she mock scolded him.

Harry let out a high pitch gasp when her nails softly began to tickle his stomach. He'd never been tickled too much, so this sent shockwaves through his body. His shirt was pushed up, her fingers dancing over his bare skin.

"G-Ghihihiny!" He spasmed with laughter.

Her eyes gleamed mischievously. "Next time you don't remark on a girl's appearance."

He was laughing much too hard to respond.

Meanwhile, sitting with her back against the end of the bed, Hermione was watching them, lips tugged up in a smile of her own. "I didn't know he was this ticklish."

"You and Ron never tickled him?" Ginny said, surprised.

"Well, no. We've never really thought about it, I suppose."

"Me and my brothers had tickle fights all the time," Ginny said. "Fred and George were ruthless."

"It seems to run in the family," Hermione remarked, referring to how Ginny had yet to stop.

"This is nothing," Ginny laughed. "You haven't really seen me have a go at it yet. Watch this."

She blew a raspberry on Harry's abdomen. His laughter came out as a half scream. It was singlehandedly the worst thing he'd ever experienced in all his life.

This made Hermione giggle. It was so unlike Harry to be this way.

"Ticklish, Harry?" Ginny teased. "Better hope Malfoy doesn't find out about this."

Even though Harry was technically stronger than Ginny, he was helpless in this situation. She'd rendered him weak in a matter of seconds, unable to do more than laugh and spit out gibberish.

"He's worse than Ron," Ginny said, delighted. "Fred and George used to get him good. Hermione, come on and have a go."

"Oh, I don't know-"

"Come on," Ginny insisted. "Help me teach him a lesson."

Hermione sighed. "Oh, alright..."

Harry still couldn't get his words out. It made it difficult for him to form anything resembling a coherent sentence. The last thing he could handle was for Hermione to join in. But much to his horror, one of his shoes was pulled off, as was his sock. His laughter escalated in pitch once more when Ginny gave him another raspberry, and here came his supposed best friend, tickling the middle of his bloody foot.

"Nohohoho!"

Ginny cackled, clearly pleased with how this was turning out. "I think I have a brush in my bag."

Hermione was confused for a moment, until the reasoning became clear to her. "Won't that be too much for him?"

"Fred and George did it to us and we're fine," Ginny said dismissively.

However, for Harry, he was not fine. The bristles tickled worse than Ginny or Hermione's nails did. His laughter was louder, panicked. He'd meant to say stop, but it came out unintelligible.

It was horrible, much worse than the tickling curse could ever be. It was also massively embarrassing. The door to the dorm was shut but Harry shuddered to think of what people might think should they be able to hear him.

"Hey, Hermione, switch with me!" Ginny called.

He hoped his best friend, who was much more sensible than the rest, would decline and leave his feet alone instead of engaging in such foolishness. But as it so happens, Hermione did not feel that way.

He was given a brief resting period where they quickly changed positions. Harry heaved a breath of air. His stomach as sore, his throat dry and there were tears that'd leaked out of the corners of his eyes.

But just as quickly had it stopped did it start yet again.

The dormitory was once again filled with his desperate laughter. Harry thought he might truly be dying. It must be it. He would meet his demise right here and not at the hands of Voldemort, but two ruthless girls he'd mistakenly considered his friends.

Hermione's fingers on his stomach were no better than Ginny's had been. She skittered them all around his abdomen, sliding them up and dragging them back down. She left no part of him untouched.

And then, unexpectedly, the door opened up.

He supposed luck was on his side for once when it turned out to be Ron. Harry would have been quite mortified if it had been one of the other boys.

He expected some sort of questioning to commence, with him wondering what the bloody hell they were doing and why they were doing it. But nothing of the sort happened.

"Rhohon!" He yelled out. "Phlhlease help!"

Ron's eyes darted from him and to the girls. Harry wished he could use legilimency to find out what he was thinking, because all he did was come down on his knees, giving Harry a false sense of hope, giving him a raspberry and leaving just like that.

"Nhohoho! Comehehe bahahck!"

[hegoeshardasfuck]

whatever it takes

wordcount: 1.2K

tags: free use, stuck in a wall, voyeur hinata, the sex itself is non-explicit but he is fucked beyond belief, body marking

synopsis: Naruto didn't expect that he'd have to degrade himself so far to get respect from the village even after all he's done

authors note: whoring him out is my favorite hobby these days, hope ya'll enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59579065

Did you know that sharpie starts to sting after enough of it's ink has been laid onto your skin? After the pitch black markings cross over with fresh, skin deep wounds- it stings.

He learns that with another day of this god awful display of humiliation. He willingly put himself up to it of course, the public held displeasure that he became Hokage. So the next best thing to appease them would be to prove he could handle anything even if he had already proven himself plenty.

It's not his fault the votes where in favor of one Naruto Uzumaki becoming the town cum dump for a weeks time. He took on the challenge with a grin, said he'd be fine by the end of it. Completely unaffected both physically and mentally, even in spite of that fact it would be seven days of overstimulation.

Three days have passed and doubts are starting to settle in.

He's allowed to return home at night if he so desires, so he can eat and sleep and apologize to his wife. He spat a big fat fuck you at everyone who said it'd be wise if he did so the first night. Fuck 'em. He said he'd take it and by god he's gonna take it all, every last drop

and every last marking and every single filthy degradation he endures.

Of course, he can't say no when it's Hinata whose walking in. She holds a cup of ramen in her hands because they definitely weren't making sure he doesn't starve out there.

He perks up at the sound of footsteps and smiles best he can when he sees his wife, "Hi, Hinata." He laughs weakly, his entire body shakes. He's thankful they gave him a bench to use as support for his arms.

"Are you going to come home tonight?"

Hinata asked.

"Nope!" There's a sharp intonation in his voice and a flicker of red in his eyes.

"Should I leave?" Hinata asked.

"I mean, if you wanna watch your husband get plowed from behind feel free to take a seat in the cuck chair," Naruto offered. He shakily raised an arm to gesture to a fold-up chair as he spoke in spite of the breathiness to his tone. "I don't actually know why they put that in here."

"Sometimes people like to watch," Hinata said simply as she placed down the ramen on Naruto's bench before pulling up the chair, "Do you want to wait until after he's done fucking you, or will you not choke if I feed you while he's doing it?"

Naruto paused, "It's a she, I think-" This weird almost growly sound stumbles out past his lips as he grips the bench.

"You can tell?"

"It's really cold, glass i think."

Hinata gave a small hum, "Then she won't leave for a bit?"

Naruto yelped, and then yipped, and finally yowled.

Hinata doesn't speak.

A brief shudder of relief courses through him, she can only recognize it due to the way his entire torso heaves, followed by a sigh, "Can I have some ramen?"

"Of course."

-/-/-/-

Two more days pass and Sasuke comes in for a visit up front, there's even more marks on Naruto.

"Hey, Sasuke," Naruto started with sloppily, his claws bore into the bench, his fangs were pronounced quite a bit. He's having a hard time keeping up his grin with how sore his face is from being fucked and slapped and somewhat written on. He looks wrecked.

It renders Sasuke near speechless.

"Here for a turn?" Naruto asked, "Come on, facefuck me. Do it."

"I came here for a turn but holy fuck, Naruto."

"Wait till day seven, I'll be a real mess when we get there."

"You can't get much messier than this."

He means it.

There's so many markings on his skin it's unreal, he doesn't even want to see what's on the other side of the wall. Sharpie, claws, bites, sore red marks, all of it is accounted for on Naruto's flesh. The bench is damp with drool and sweat alike. It smells of nothing but sex even outside the door, the scent having seeped through an insane amount. It was a rich, pheromone heavy scent that Sasuke was very familiar with.

"Oh ho ho, you'd be shocked," Naruto laughed as he lightened his grip on the bench. He folds his hand under his chin, "Anyways, what can I do ya for? I usually have a dick in my mouth by now."

"Do you even know whose been here?"

"Sort of, most of them they left a signature though, check it out!" He raises up a shaky arm, "Shikimaru keeps dropping in for sloppy sevenths with Ino."

Sasuke takes Naruto's hand and reads all the names, insignias, and logos on both arms.

Just about everyone noteworthy in the entire village has hit him up. Some probably didn't even leave a signature at that. It's both horrifying and impressive to imagine that one of the strongest most influential figures in the shinobi world has whored himself out so thoroughly in the course of five days. Just five days and his hair is matted with cum and sweat and his face is marked up with sharpie, cum, and tears alike. Only five days out of seven.

"You really think you can make it through?" Sasuke asked.

Naruto scoffed, "After enough time you don't really feel it as much, it's pretty tingly for the most part. I will say that nobody fucking cleans up after themselves- my thighs are so sticky right now it's insane. Walking home after this is gonna be horrible."

"As soon as you get out of this me and my wife are taking care of you." It almost sounds like a threat.

Naruto smiles lazily at Sasuke, "Really?"

"A promise, we'll get off all the sharpie."

"Will Hinata be there?"

"If she wants."

"Alright-! Fuck!"

Claws rip into the cushions once again, heavy panting, and Sasuke can hear the sound of a hand hitting skin.

"Looks like Sakura's back." Naruto laughed before whimpering.

"How can you tell?" Sasuke demanded.

"Hunch- go give her a hand, get in your fucks while you still can legally," Naruto taunted. He moans again and fuck that's a rich sound, absolutely delicious. He missed it quite a lot when it fell out of his best friends mouth, be it in the sheets or a fight.

But Sasuke doesn't budge.

"It'll be infidelity in two days..." Naruto drawled in an almost melodic rhythm.

That gets Sasuke moving.

And in a brief moment Naruto can feel a second set of hands on his body.

-/-/-/-

Just like Sasuke said, three sets of hands are on him.

They hold him gently, scrubbing the ink off of his flesh as he soaks in a lavender scented bath. Suds rest atop the water in a thick layer that he wants to sink into entirely. They won't let him though, holding up one sore leg and then the other to try and get off as much sharpie as they can.

He's almost worried that some of it has sinked so far into his skin it won't come out again. Sakura assures him it'll wash out eventually, even if not entirely right now.

"If it doesn't all come out now could we do this again next week?" Naruto asked, raising himself out of the water just enough that his speech wouldn't be distorted.

Sakura nodded, "Of course we can."

[airyairyaucontraire]

Okay so my cat's 15 and she's getting arthritis in her back legs. My mother and sister took her to the vet about it yesterday because I had to work and my mother's retired and my sister's part-time. I greatly appreciate their help.

She had to be drugged before going because when I took her in for her check-up and vaccination last weekend she brought shame on our family with her behaviour and bit me on the hand inflicting a puncture wound which I can still see today, thanks Pearl, love you too. I know you were scared and your legs hurt so I'm not angry with you but it was both painful and embarrassing.

Anyway she was fine when she was doped up (my mother and sister texted me pictures from the appointment so I could see she was okay, also appreciated). The vet wants me to give her pain relief medicine for the arthritis and I'm absolutely down with that, I want my cat to be comfortable.

HOWEVER

the medicine is Gabapentin which comes in 100mg capsules of a very, very fine white powder.

the instructions on the prescription are to give her "half a capsule twice daily."

do you see the difficulty

I do not have a scale that can measure fucking milligrams

Trying to cut the dose out on a hard surface like cocaine means losing a lot of it because a) it's a very, very fine powder and b) I have shaky hands because of this fucking neurological condition the fucking neurologist couldn't identify.

And if I say fuck it and give her a whole capsule once daily, well, that's what I was required to give her before the appointment to render her dopey and tractable, which made it hard for her to walk, and also it would wear off so she'd only have 12 hours' relief while being too dopey to enjoy it and the rest of the time she'd be sore

so what I have to do, after a very frustrating phone call with the vet nurse during which I assured him I knew it was not his fault and hoped I didn't sound angry with him but I was finding this very stressful and was concerned that I would not be able to dose my cat properly, and thought the instructions were incredibly impractical, is this

using a syringe measure 2 millilitres of water and put it in a shot glass

with great care twist the halves of one capsule apart and pour the powder into the water

stir it with a toothpick until it appears more or less dissolved

draw up one millilitre with no real idea how much of the drug is suspended in it BUT HEY

squirt it down my startled and offended cat's throat

put Glad wrap over the top of the shot glass so it doesn't dry up and put it away to dose her again at night

There's another medication in gel form that I'm supposed to put on her wet food/meat but she doesn't like it and tried to eat around it, so I'm probably just going to squirt it down her throat too.

and do you want to know what is really fucking rich about all this

the medication the neurologist prescribed which has NOT fixed my tremors?

GABAPENTIN 100mg CAPSULES

FUCKING IDENTICAL TO THE ONES THE VET GAVE ME FOR THE CAT

yes I have cried with frustration about this today

my cat's getting old and sick and I can't help her, I'm getting old and sick and nobody can help me

[dickfics69]

Emotional Motion Sickness | Part 3 | A Rickyl ficlet

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8 | PART 9

Rick x Daryl

AO3

Summary: Daryl gets sick before a supply run, and denies it vehemently. He is a big tantrum baby. Rick is constantly worried and drama ensures.

Chapter 3 summary: As Daryl prepares to leave for the run, he is accosted by other members of the convoy.

AU: This fic has some timeline and plot-point changes. They are still in the prison and the second Governor fight never happened. He died in the first one and the last few months have been them adjusting to all the new Woodbury inhabitants. Rick and Lori broke up when Shane was killed, but Rick still lost his mind when she died. Daryl and Rick have just recently gotten together. Farmer Rick era is lot shorter than in the show. An original character is introduced for plot furthering purposes.

Content warning: adult language, sickfic, mess, snot, bodily functions, hurt/comfort, vivid nightmares, adult content, 18+ for eventual smut (still deciding hehe), ORIGINAL CHARACTER MAKES APPEARANCE IN THIS CHAPTER

Word Count: 3k+

My personal Daryl Dixon playlist

As always, huge shout out to @dumbslxtclub for editing my grammar and being the best hype girl ever <3

Chapter 3: People are annoying, leave me alone.

Daryl placed a cigarette between his chapped lips, fiddling with his lighter until flame made contact with paper. He knew better than to aggravate his delicate immune system with a wave of hot tobacco, but right now he didn’t really give a shit. 

He took a tentative drag. The heavy smoke permeated through his upper respiratory tract, lighting up inflamed airways like a forest fire. The deep burning, unsurprisingly, caused an almost vomit inducing coughing fit, launching Daryl forward once more. He was getting really fucking sick of this. 

Tears, snot and saliva joined together to render the hunter’s face a wet dripping mess. Recovering enough, he returned to vertical and dried the mess with a cleanish section of his sweatshirt. Glancing down at the cigarette that was still turning to ash in his fingers, he contemplated trying again. ‘Mm, better not,’ he thought and stubbed the rest of it out, throwing it to the wayside. Breathing shakily, Daryl brought the back of his wrist up to his sore nose and gave it a tired rub, trying to ascertain whether he should expect an encore from his sinuses, determining that he was safe. For now. 

Daryl was leant up against one of the external prison walls overlooking the courtyard. There was just enough of a lip above his head to keep the October rain from completely drenching him. Although running between the truck and prison had definitely dampened him enough for his fever to start rising again. Fortunately for Daryl their vehicle had pretty much been stocked by the time he got out there. Normally the hunter preferred to be in charge of the cargo that left the prison walls, but today he was just grateful that he didn’t have to exert himself too much. 

Continuing his respite against the cold brick, Daryl was shivering and desperately trying to wipe his memory of the events of the morning. Guilt was an emotion that he despised and something he certainly didn’t have time for today. 

Just as he was about to head down the stairs, the door to the left of him opened with an obnoxious laugh and a whip of long brunette curls. Peri. 

‘Peri…Peri, uh, what’s-her-face.’

Peri What’s-her-face, was the group's latest addition, being welcomed in by Rick and the council when they had found her wandering about in a daze several weeks ago. Daryl didn’t know a lot about the woman except that she had an unusual aptitude for knife throwing but was bullshit with a gun. “Be nice, she’s improving,” Rick had said to his partner after a less than spectacular training session a week prior. Maybe she was. Too many people to keep to keep tabs on. Oh, she was Australian too, a geographical concept that seemed to flummox Daryl on a regular basis. Peri was charming enough, making everyone laugh with her Oceanic idioms and generally sunny disposition. She had a mad temper too and seldom took crap from anyone, resulting in a lot of heated arguments between the two. Recently she’d taken it upon herself to repeatedly guess Daryl’s middle name; a game that was endearing and irritating at the same time. Overall she was the type of person Daryl knew he’d end up loving and laughing with, but he didn’t have the energy to try today, especially with her weak skills accompanying him on the supply run.

“Oi kndife girl!” He rasped out as she started heading down the stairs. 

“Yes bow-boy?” She retorted.

“You fired a gund without jumbping yet?”

“I’m getting there, Dixon. You know I actually grew up in a country with gun laws?” She leant back on the railing nonchalantly, drops of rain gathering atop her curly hair. “Thanks for the concern, but I can definitely hold my own in a Zombie crisis.”

“I’ll believe it wheheh-n I heh s’h’h’ETSCHUuu… hih’ATTCHtuu…heh…heh’snNXXTt oo-, ugh, fuck.” Daryl sneezed openly and suddenly, leaving a line of not-so-clear-anymore mucus trickling out of his left nostril. 

An awkward silence followed as Daryl attempted pitifully to clean himself up. 

“Dude you look like shit.” She said bluntly. A drastically different comment to what he was used to hearing today. Daryl laughed. 

“Fuck you,” he finally said between sniffles and chuckles. 

“Hey, fuck you too, mate,” she laughed loudly and heartily, holding up a middle finger to retain an amusing upper hand.

It was a weird and wonderful moment between prospering friends. 

“Aah, alright D-man, I’m going to do a round, see if anyone has any item requests.” Throwing him a halfhearted peace sign. “Meet you at the truck, Daryl Norman??” 

“Ndot even close.” 

She smiled, shrugged and walked away, twirling a couple of daggers around her hands as though it was as easy as breathing. 

Daryl pulled out another cigarette. 

‘Strange girl.’

———-

A couple of barebows, fuel tanks, and silencers; Daryl loaded them into the Jeep, feeling the sickly heaviness grow worse with every single item. He stupidly expected to feel better with every new turn of the day. But denial is a silly creature. His congestion was so bad that  he could barely even sniff anymore, no air able to pass through the swelling and snot that had made extended residence above the hunter's red-raw nostrils. It was still constantly dripping though, rendering the sleeves of his sweatshirt as good as a pack of tissues. Daryl was too tired to contemplate the juxtaposing predicament that was afflicting his sinuses. Running his hand across the arrows that sat atop his crossbow, he felt a couple of notches that were threatening to snap. He knew he should make some sort of repair attempt, but found that he could not move at this juncture in time, hands holding strong on the back of the truck with a little bit too much need.

“Daryl!” The newly adolescent voice of Carl frightened him out of his febrile stupor. How long had he been standing there?

“Shit kid, your daddy ever teach you ndot to sndeak up on people?”

“Uh yeah but I’ve been saying your name for the last thirty seconds so…” Yeah, Carl had been there a while.

Not knowing how to respond, Daryl went with a trademark grunt and busied himself with items in the back of their vehicle.

“Why aren’t you taking the bike?”

“Ndeeds fixin’.”

“If I help you when we get back will you teach me to ride?”

“That ain’t up to mbe, Carl.” Daryl brought his gaze to the young man, gazing apologetically down at him, pushing the deputy hat down over his eyes in a show of affection.

“Fine. Well Peri and I did a round and got a list of requests from people.” Carl handed a slip of paper to the man that landed itself directly in a damp pocket.

“Uh, thangks kid,” He said with a pitiful sniffle, hoping that the smaller Grimes man would walk away so he could cough or sneeze or blow his nose or something else gross and humiliating. But the boy hovered. 

“Daryl, you okay?” Asked with more concern for general safety than anything else. 

“Yes, Carl.”

“I was in the dining room earlier, so really. Are you okay?” 

“Christ! Yeah! I’mb getting real fucgking sick of that question today!” He used his outburst as a good excuse to wipe some excess snot from his upper lip. Gotta keep up appearances.

“Okay.” Carl shrugged. “My dad’s looking for you by the way.” 

Shit.

“Mb’kay, he kndows where to find mbe.” Daryl mumbled, hands on his crossbow again. Silence. Please leave me be. Daryl normally relished his time with the boy; teaching him card tricks, browsing comics, and fighting alongside him. But today there was no room for civility.

“Are you and my dad- I dunno- okay?” A hint of discomfort adorning the pubescent voice. 

‘Are we?’ Daryl pondered melancholically. Truth be told, Rick and Daryl hadn’t been quote unquote ‘together’ for very long. The pair had always possessed an unbreakable resolve to protect each other, a friendship growing deeper as their found family triumphed over and over again. And then Lori died. While the husband and wife had separated long before the birth of Judith, the trauma of her passing sent Rick down a psychological rabbit hole and Daryl lost his best friend to an avalanche of grief. Unable to help, unable to ease the pain of his loss, Daryl redirected his affections and fell hopelessly in love with Judith, the tiniest addition to the family. The hunter made sure the beloved baby girl was alive and well for when her father came back to them. Then all of a sudden, he did. Rick had entered his room in the middle of the night, a face full of tears, glistening in the faint moonlight. He finally granted himself the comfort that Daryl ached to provide. The pair had held each other hard, long into the morning, falling asleep in a tangled mess of limbs. Nights like this became commonplace for the duo. At this point, they were both well aware of their mutual affections, but lacking Shakespeare’s apt for romantic declarations, they went unvoiced for much longer than anyone deemed necessary. Months of longing stares, gently brushing fingertips and falling asleep in the same bed culminated in a tearful night of emotional exclamations and explosions of physical passion. It was new. It was exciting. It was terrifying. But they loved each other, and that was enough for now.

Coming back to reality,Daryl reduced his immense thought process to a mere two word sentence.

“We’re finde.”

“Good.” Carl took a moment to choose his next words carefully. “Just so you know, if you hurt my dad, I’ll kill you.”

Daryl didn’t know how to fathom a response to this. Carl had virtually become a man overnight, protecting them all in ways he probably couldn’t comprehend. Now, there’s no way the boy could actually take the fully grown crossbow wearing man, but Daryl understood. The kid had lost so many people in such a short time. He understood. ‘I love him beyond comprehension, killing me is the least you could do if I ever hurt him.’

He settled for a curt nod. 

“Good then. I’ll meet you back here soon, gotta say goodbye to Judy.” They shared a smile of understanding. 

Carl walked away, passing the older Grimes man who was walking towards Daryl, joining the queue of personal irritants plaguing his morning. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” 

Rick lay the leather jacket he was holding over the side of the truck and wrapped his arms around the back of the sick man. Nestling his head into shoulder, he felt Daryl melt into the embrace. They stood there in comfortable silence, the manly scent of sweet tobacco and fresh cotton joining together as they breathed the other man in. 

“You good?” Rick whispered delicately into his lover's ear. 

A shiver of pleasure trickled its way through Daryl’s body and all he could manage was a tired, congested, “mmhm.”

“Carl ask you ‘bout the bike again?”

“Yep. Don’t worry I said ndo.” He responded with a small but wet cough. “Oh, and he threatened to mburder mbe if I ever hurt you.”

Rick turned his head away from Daryl’s and laughed heartily. 

“It ain’t that funny!”

“No…I know!” He responded through fits of giggles. “He said the same thing to me!”

Daryl chuckled as much as his body would allow him without coughing. “Good to kndow he don’t play favourites.”

He was so comfortable in Rick’s arm’s he’d almost forgotten how goddamn awful he felt. The pressure in his head seemingly melted away as the weight of his skull rested on another. The strong arms enveloping his torso provided much needed warmth against the harsh, miserable weather. He was safe. He was warm. He didn’t want to go anywhere or move any muscle of his angry body. But they were in the midst of a supply crisis, and there was no time for selfish comforts. Not today. His nose chose his next move before the hunter could even formulate another thought. He shrugged Rick off as quickly as he could and grabbed hold of the trunk to steady himself for another onslaught of fittish sneezes. Daryl’s head reared back, mouth parting slightly.

“Hh…ehh..Hh’ExTChUu…H’HasTCHhUU…Hh’NXXtchu…heh…Hehh—! Jesus Fucking Christ!” The final sneeze never came, leaving him damp, teary and frustrated. A heavy drop of snot landed on the back of his hand that continued to hold onto the jeep for dear life. He snorted back as loudly as he dared, wiping the rest away with his forearm. A concerned hand reached to comfort him, but the belligerent man swatted it away. He abhorred being seen like this.

Rick watched Daryl struggle with pity and heartache, wanting to hold the man until he was okay again, but equally wanting to slap him for being a stubborn prick. He chose neither and became a gawky witness to the grossest sneezing fit he’d ever seen.

“So um…” The Deputy started, but didn’t know how to articulate his thoughts, scared of the reaction from partner. “Back in th’ dining room…I was…I was talkin’...”

“Say what you gotta say!” Daryl spat. Emotionally and literally. 

“Well, I was talk’n to Glenn, and he’s willin’ to come today in your place if you’re not up for it.” A tense silence followed, and when no answer came, Rick continued. “You need to rest Daryl! God, how’r ya supposed to get through a trip when you can barely stand?”

A taut silence perfused the air, and Rick prepared himself for the Daryl Dixon onslaught.

“You. Fucking. What?” He whipped around to face his partner, eyes filled with that same unbridled fury that premiered during the breakfast showdown. “Whatever happened to givin’ me space and ndot saying stupid shit huh? Jesus, how mandy times do I gotta say I’mb finde for you people to leave mbe the fuck alone?!” Daryl was on the edge of pure ferocity, pacing around in a feverish tantrum.

Rick knew the telltale signs of a Daryl Dixon meltdown and would usually intervene, but he was so pissed off with the contentious man that he decided to add fuel to the fire.

“Y’know, sometimes I can’t believe how goddamn idiotic you are! The fuck you think you’re gaining by being so pigheaded? God! You’re such an irresponsible asshole y’know?” 

“You wannda talk about irresponsible, Rick Grimbes? How ‘bout thinkin’ before you let half a dozend strangers into the prison without stocking up on rations huh? Or what about that damnbed farming bullshit? Christ, you’re su-huhch a f-huh-cking…heh..h’hypocrite…hih!”

A secondary ripple of irritation surged through Daryl’s nose, leaving him powerless to continue the fight. He held up a middle finger to his boyfriend, a lax attempt at appearing tough when he was truly the picture of misery. 

Rick stood impatiently, watching the other man getting sicker with every painful, waist-bending sneeze. Did he want to punch Daryl? Yes. Did he want to hold him? Yes. Did he want fuck him sideways because he was feeling very weirdly turned on? Also yes. He sighed, shaking away bewildered frustrations. After the attack on the prison, both men found it difficult to reign in their tempers, and were quick to lash out, often at each other. With some wise suggestion from Herschel Greene, Daryl took to going on solo hunting trips to clear his head, and Rick turned his focus on the developing prison farm. At this juncture in time, the Deputy willed himself to be the bigger person and back down. Daryl would come to his senses sooner or later. Hopefully before he passed out. 

“You done?”

“...Yeah.” The hunter breathed shakily, rubbing his nose hard with the palm of his hand. 

“Here, put this on and let's go.” Rick held out the leather jacket to Daryl with a sigh. It absolutely wasn’t warm enough, but it would have to do for today.

“I aind’t your kid Rick, I’mb finde.” He looked down on the jacket with contempt, although at this point he didn't know why. He was fucking freezing.

“It’s forty five fucking degrees Daryl, put the damn jacket on!”

Snatching the coat from the outstretched arm, the sickly man broke into another wet coughing fit. He wanted to have the last word but couldn’t seem to catch his breath.  ‘Jesus. Merle and dad were right, you are pathetic.’ 

“Oi!” He finally croaked, drawing the attention of his partner who had started walking away. “I’mb drivin’!”

“Whatever, Daryl.” Rick tossed his arms up in weary defeat. “And hey, do us all a favour, cover your damn mouth!” He slammed the door of the passenger side closed, beckoning the others in. Unbeknownst to the lovers, Carl and Peri had witnessed most of the heated argument and stood gaping at them in shock.

“Do your dad’s always fight like this?” Peri whispered to Carl, who frowned between Daryl and the echo of Rick’s presence .

“Get in th’ car!” Daryl mumbled forcefully, watching the two younger companions hurry into the vehicle like scared little kids. 

Daryl exasperatedly ran a hand through the wet clumps of his hickory hair. He wanted to scream and punch and cry. ‘God! You’re the absolute fucking worst. You don’t deserve him.’ He fought off pressing tears with an aggressive snort, attempting to rid himself of the ever worsening gunk that filled his sinuses to the brim. He looked down at the jacket in his hand and begrudgingly threw it on, thankful for something even a skerrick drier than that already clinging to his fever riddled body. He put his hands into the pockets and paused when he grazed something. In the right, a clean red handkerchief, neatly folded. In the left, a small blister pack of cold and flu tablets. 

He made a small silent sob as the ever dreaded guilt rose in his throat like hot bile. ‘You really really don’t deserve him.’

No time for that. No room for weakness.

He gathered all the strength he could find and hopped into the driver’s seat. Daryl wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, praying to some sort of god that he could get through the next few hours without sneezing or coughing or something else that would paint him fragile and humiliated. He was not a faithful man. 

[hyuckshaze]

zoom shenanigans - l.dh

✩‌ haechan ‌x‌ ‌fem!reader‌ ‌|‌ boyfriend!haechan | smut | ‌1.6k+ words ✩

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ you don’t quite know how hyuck convinced you to sit on him while in a class zoom call

WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ exhibitionism, unprotected sex, dom!sub themes, asphyxiation, edging/overstimulation, spitting, slight humiliation, degradation (use of words such as whore, slut etc.), dumbification, slight dacryphylia, salirophilia, dirty talk - basically pure and absolute filth!

AUTHOR’S NOTES ⇾ i couldn’t stop thinking about this throughout the entirety of my online classes today, so i just had to write about it to get it off my chest. i am an absolute slut when it comes to dom!hyuck, so this is just self-indulgence really. enjoy! not proofread so please message if there’s any errors, or anything missing from the warning list! - lex

You don’t quite know how Hyuck convinced you to sit on him while in a class zoom call. 

He’d driven you insane. You’d been sat on his cock since the start of your lesson, for which your teacher, thank God, had decided that cameras did not need to be on. The class only lasted an hour, with you sitting on his lap in his gaming chair because ‘your desk chair just isn’t comfy enough, Y/N’, according to him anyway. You thought your desk chair was perfectly comfy, but he insisted. 60 minutes doesn’t seem all that long in the grand scheme of things, but with a boyfriend as evil as Donghyuck, of course he knew just how to make that hour feel like an eternity, teasing you relentlessly throughout. His lips brushing against your ear as you tried your hardest to complete the set work, whispering unspeakable promises into your ear and sending dark shivers down your spine. Though you couldn’t see his face, you knew the exact expression that was plastered on his face as his wandering hands roamed your body, squeezing and pinching all the spots that he knew would have you squirming in his hold. By far, the most infuriating thing he would do, though, was to snake his hand around your body whenever you had to turn your microphone on, fingers rubbing your clit in circles that had you biting back loud and sensual moans, managing to suppress the noises down to sighs which, as a University student, were not all that uncommon to hear. 

It’s when the time hits 11:50am, exactly 10 minutes before the end of the lesson (you know because you began checking it, what seemed like, every few seconds, sensing his growing impatience), that his self-control evaporates. With a raspy grunt, his hand wraps around your neck and he thrusts up into you, hard, fast and rough. You gasp, face contorting in pleasure at the sudden movements which have you crying out and grasping at the desk in front of you in order to stay upright. You whine as his grip on your neck tightens, pulling you back towards his chest in one, swift movement. A yelp escapes your lips, now blindly grabbing at the armrests on either side of the chair in order to stop your legs from giving out. Not that you’d go anywhere, Hyuck’s rigid grip on you made sure of that. His hot breath against the back of your neck caused goosebumps to form on your exposed skin, a shudder going through your body at the overwhelming amount of pleasure. His hand on your neck pushes your jaw backwards, the back of your head resting on his shoulder as he looks down at your flushed face, tears of pleasure collecting at the corners of your wide and innocent eyes, perfect pink lips parted so beautifully, not to mention the dream-worthy sounds escaping them. How could he have ended up with such a perfect little girl? His hand moves for only a split second from your neck, squeezing your cheeks together in order to open your mouth. He spits harshly into your now open mouth, pressing your cheeks shut again afterwards. You let out a sudden and uncontrollable moan at the sound of him doing such a filthy thing, feeling his spit hit your tongue forcefully. You know what he wants. You close your mouth and swallow, his hand creeping back down towards your neck as you show him your empty mouth.

“That’s my good girl.” He rasps, giving a tight squeeze to your neck once more.

With your eyes squeezed so tightly shut, you almost forget that you’re supposed to be listening to your Biomedical Sciences lecturer drone on about Haematology and Transfusion. Almost.

“Right, now that’s done, everyone turn your cameras on for this last task. We’re going to be going through the homework assignment that I set for you all last week, don’t think you can get away without speaking either! I’m gonna be asking you all questions about the task.” His words barely register in your mind, your head fuzzy and body shaking at the feeling of your boyfriend rearranging your insides so delectably. After a few moments, his words seem to sink in and your eyes shoot open, urgently whispering Hyuck’s name. There was no way you could turn on your camera, you’d have to lie. I dropped my laptop; my WiFi is lagging; my room is a mess. A thousand ways to excuse yourself ran through your mind, albeit at a much slower pace than usual. You could only focus so much through the feeling of Haechan fucking into you so hard and fast. Your desperate whines of his name are interrupted as he hums into your ear, not slowing his hips or showing any sign of stopping. If anything, it becomes even harder to think at his words.

“We both know that’s not what you call me when I’m fucking you, baby.” He growls into your ear, pounding into you with even more force, rendering you barely capable of thinking, let alone talking. Your walls clench tightly around his hard cock, a string of curses escaping your boyfriend’s pink lips as he grunts loudly at the feeling.

“M-my professor s-said-” You start, barely able to string a sentence together.

“I heard what your professor said, baby. Turn on your camera. Show your entire class how much of a filthy little slut you are for me. Show them how this perfect A* student cums all over my dick, huh? You’d like that wouldn’t you? Everyone seeing the perfect little teachers pet coming all over her boyfriends cock during her class? Everyone seeing how fucking dumb you get for my dick?” You bite your lip, holding back a scream. You can’t, however, stop a broken whimper from escaping you.

“Fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Please, oh my God!” The hand that isn’t clutching your neck so tightly moves downwards, fingers brushing your clit so delicately.

“Please... Please what, slut?” He spits, tears now leaking down your face, chest shaking as you hold in overwhelmed sobs.

“Please Daddy!” You cry out, mascara beginning to smudge as you clench your eyes shut so tightly. You no longer care about your waiting professor, you no longer care about the entire class, it’s only Haechan. He is all you can feel and think.

“Y/N, we’re waiting on you to turn your camera on...” Your professor presses, but you don’t even hear him. It’s only when your boyfriend stops all of his movement, hand slipping away from your throat, reaching down and reclining his gaming chair into a laying position, that you realise what he wants.

“No, no, no. Please, Hyuckie!” You whine, head spinning at the loss of movement. He’s laying practically flat now, out of view of the camera. You try to move, rolling your hips atop his dick but his fingers dig into your hips hard, almost painfully, as he holds you in place, smirking up at your shaking figure with mirth.

“Go on, baby. Turn on your camera.” He warns, fingers digging even harder into your hips. You send him an exasperated look, to which he gives you the look. You know what that means. ‘Do as I fucking say, or you’ll regret it’. 

Your shaky hands reach over to the laptop, clicking the camera button as you let out an uneven breath. After a few seconds, your face appears on the screen. Your eyes widen. What your boyfriend had failed to inform you, was that your face was flushed and sweaty, mascara smudging your cheeks in obvious tear streaks, a drop of his spit glittering as it sat upon your chin. You wiped your face on your sleeve as soon as you catch sight of yourself, moving forward to pretend to be sorting a non-existing wire behind your screen as you try to make yourself look more presentable. As you do so, you hear his voice whisper.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you called me just then and don’t think you’re getting away with it. ‘Hyuckie’ doesn’t fuck you the way Daddy does.” His low tone causes you to clench around him, taking a deep breath at his teasing words. He scoffs at your silence, squeezing your ass, hard, so that you let out a small whimper. He hums in satisfaction as you plaster an obviously fake smile onto your face before leaning back, clicking on the unmute button for only a moment before abruptly turning it off again, barely having finished your sentence, as Haechan’s rock hard dick twitches inside your sensitive pussy.

“Sorry, Professor. I had tech issues.” 

✩  ✩   ✩

Those last 8 minutes of class felt like an eternity, and your boyfriend made sure of that. You thought you’d done a pretty good job at hiding it, though. Not one person gave you a funny or disgusted look as you answered the Professor’s questions and kept a small, albeit forced, smile on your face. You couldn’t help but feel a twisted form of pride at your ability to pretend as though nothing was happening as you sat atop of Hyuck’s dick, enduring his endless verbal and physical teasing throughout.

It wasn’t until after the two of you were finished, long after the class had done so, that your boyfriend checked his phone

“Y/N...” You heard him call from the bathroom. You couldn’t find the energy to move, simply humming in acknowledgement at his hesitant-sounding call. He enters the bedroom in all his naked glory, carrying a small, wet cloth in order to clean you up in one hand, his phone in the other. Your eyes trace his naked body, focusing on the smooth, tanned skin. He really was a sight for sore eyes, somebody that you could never get tired of looking at. You’re disrupted from staring at his body when he holds his phone out in front of your face. You reluctantly tear your eyes from his torso, focusing in on the brightly lit screen, squinting slightly to read the text upon it.

“ 

MESSAGES

Jaemin

fucking your gf during her zoom class, nice one bro. though, you might wanna make sure that you actually hang up next time. the whole class was still there, apart from the prof. not that they’re complaining, i saw their faces. they’re gonna be getting off to that for the entirety of lockdown, i swear! 

“

Needless to say, nobody in class called you the Teacher’s Pet anymore.

✩   ✩   ✩ 

[venushasvixens]

October 5th - Possession/Mind Control (Lotor x Reader) / Kinktober 2021

[A/N] nothing other than Lotor is a sadistic fuck in this.

WARNING: not in control?? 18+, contains adult content

You were strapped firmly by your hands and feet to a reclining piece of metal. You had been subjected to torture before, and you were prepared for anything. The time from when you were captured by Prince Lotor and his generals to now was a blur. All you remember was the sudden appearance of his ship, guns at the ready. A fight ensued, and at last, you were in their custody.

Having just assisted Voltron in defending an alien race against the Galra, you knew that there was a huge target on your back. Anyone associated with them would be obliterated to smithereens. And now your time has come.

All of a sudden, you heard the sound of blast doors opening. A light had flicked on, illuminating your tied up body. Squinting at the harsh lights, you heard the slow thuds of a large being echoed throughout the chamber. You couldn't turn your head at all, completely paralyzed. A flash of white hair could be seen in the darkness in front of you, tampering with a machine that stood dormant in front of you.

“I trust you are comfortable?” The being spoke, his fingers tapping on the machine. It roared to life, ready to power up.

“A pillow would be nice.” Smart ass. “What do you want from me?”

The being hummed. “I think you know.”

“I really don’t know what youre talking about, I’m just a lowly scavenger making her way through the galaxy.” You lied, pulling at your restraints.

“Is that so? Well in that case,” the being pulled out a holopad, flashing an image of you shaking hands with the Princess of Altea, “can you tell me who this is?”

You stared at the picture, flabbergasted. “Damn, you got me there.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, I will ask you nicely.” The being appeared from the shadows, his white long hair catching the light. “Where is Voltron?”

You sighed. “Look, if I’m being honest, all I did was help them in a battle I had no business in. There was not one word uttered to me about their next destination.”

Lotor nodded, thinking. With a turn of the heel, he strode over to the machine again, twisting a lever.

“I’m giving you one last chance to tell me. Where. Is. Voltron?”

“I’ve told you, they didn’t tell me where they were going next. All I got was a thanks and a small praise and I was on my way.” You muttered, tired of this pointless interrogation. “Besides, if you were any better at your job, you wouldn’t be wasting your time on me.”

Lotor smirked, his pupils at a slit. “Thank you for giving me an excuse to use this fine device. You’ll make an excellent experiment.”

The lever was pulled back, the power of the machine accelerating. This was it. You were going to die. The room filled with a bright magenta hue, with the center of the machine being a growing dot of destruction.

BAM!

A blinding light flashed in your eyes, rendering you powerless. Screaming out in fear, your body tensed against your restraints. Is this what dying felt like? No.

Instead, you could hear the voice of the cruel prince calling you back to reality.

“Open your eyes.”

You did as he commanded, your eyes forced open, everything in the room a fuschia shade. Panicked, your eyes set on Lotor who stood in front of you. He watched you in fascination, untying your limbs. Your brain commanded your limb to move, to punch and hit, but to no avail. You could not move.

“Lift your arm.” He instructed. Your arm raised above your head, much to Lotor’s excitement. This was terrifying. “Good, good. Let’s see what else we can do.”

-

“Moan for me.”

Your nipples were so sore from being licked and sucked. You refused to give in, resulting in Lotor’s own method of torture. Taking his dagger, he cut your shirt in half, taking your silky breast into his mouth.

He wouldn’t stop. His tongue trailed over your breasts, circling the nipple with just the tip of his tongue. You couldn’t help but moan, your tits having always been so sensitive. He gave equal attention to each one, gently massaging the other.

Lotor pinched your nipples in between his fingertips, rubbing them quickly.

“Mmm a-aaah, p-please.” You cried out, the pleasure going straight to your pussy, a rising heat forming in your stomach.

“Such a good toy.” Lotor praised you, giving a kiss to your panting mouth. You hated him so much, but it felt so good. He took over your body completely, obeying his every word. Telling you to moan and cry, you did exactly that. Morally, this was so wrong. It wasn't you in control, and that's what frightened you.

But stars, you haven’t felt such attention and sensuality in a long time.

Your torment lasted for vargas, being used by Lotor in every position possible. The amount of times you were told to cum was mounting up. Slamming himself into your aching pussy once more, all you could really do was mindlessly cry Lotor’s name. He had brainwashed you to think of only him. Every time he thrusted into you, you could never get used to his cock. Thick and veiny, it was greater each time he fucked you.

“Legs over my shoulders, now.” You complied, doing as you were told. Your knees by your head, and Lotor positioning himself, he pounded into you with a forceful thrust.

“A-ah, yes, this is much better.” He growled in your ear, arms wrapped around your body. Digging his claws into your skin, his hips moved faster and faster. It was animalistic, a monster devouring his prey. It was so hard the tip of his cock slammed into your cervix each time. You were so oversexed you did not care, all you wanted was him.

You wanted his cum, his cock buried inside of you until the end of time. You were his whore, wanting to only give him your holes to be filled up. His endurance amazed you, lasting for eons. Galrans were known for that, practically indestructible. He truly was their prince.

“You’re mine, all mine.” He snarled, his voice strained. You couldn’t imagine the mess you were in for.

He bared his fangs, intensely staring in your face. There was a glimpse of affection, satisfied with the work he had done on you. He had broken you.

Smack, smack, smack

That noise and Lotor’s moans were all you could hear. He grabbed your face into his hand, firmly grasping your chin. “I want to see those pretty eyes when I come into you, do you understand pet?”

You nodded, brows furrowed and your mouth lolled open. Putting your legs down, he gripped onto your hips. Holding you right where he wanted you, his momentum picked up.

Slam, slam, slam

You couldn't look away. This was a command, you were so enthralled with the sight that laid before you. White strands of hair tickled your face, Lotor’s face distorted. His expressions changed at a whim, his teeth bared and angry. You were obsessed with it.

You could feel the ending was near. Lotor’s legs twitched, hesitating to enter you once more, but he ignored it. He was going to mark you in every way he could.

“Come with me, come with me.”

A guttural howl echoed throughout the chamber as Lotor convulsed inside of you. As he did, all you could muster was a silent scream, your orgasms coinciding together. He gave a small thrust inside you before pulling out. A small pop sound could be heard, your pussy empty and alone.

Like that, the act was over.

“Good, I had gotten what I wanted from you.” Lotor breathed nonchalantly, as if he didnt give you the best (and humiliating) fucking of your life. As he placed his armor back onto his lavender body gracefully, you laid on the floor taking in his words and presence.

He took what he wanted, and now your death was approaching soon. You were of no use to him anymore.

As Lotor headed to the blast doors, he turned to face his prisoner. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes squinted and concentrated. “Hmm.”

Strolling to your side, he knelt down by your head. “Forgive me for what I said. As an apology, I will give you this.”

He whispered deeply in your ear, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

“Join me, and together we can capture and destroy Voltron. Together.”

The picture was clear now. Voltron was the enemy. Parasites of the empire, and must be eliminated. You couldn't agree more with him.

“When do we start?”

[danses-with-dogmeat]

romanced hancock reacting to pregnant sole? (obviously not his baby, but a donor's haha)

Hancock x Pregnant! F!Sole Headcannons:

Oh look! I've been enabled yet again! No, but this is great though, I love thinking about happy companions starting a family with Sole ❤

Also, if y'all want any headcannons or anything for companions as parents please hmu, cuz my brain just naturally seems to consider that after doing these pregnancy prompts anyway 😅

Anyway, thanks for the ask, I hope you enjoy!

The ghoul always wondered whether or not his tear ducts would still work after his whole ordeal, and the news that the love of his life was ready and willing to start a family with him would certainly seek to find out. As soon as she gave the word that the donorship had worked, Hancock would be grinning wide and tearfully, with upturned brows and a trembling lip. Unable to speak at first, he would pull an equally tearful Sole into the tightest hug he could muster, their bodies flush, his arms enveloping his love as his roughened cheek pressed insistently against her smooth one. “You just made me the happiest ghoul in the whole damn world, you know that, sunshine?” He’d say just before touching his lips to her cheek in a long, drawn out, tender kiss. (The action may or may not escalate into a long trail of kisses spanning across Sole's entire face as mirthful giggles escape her lips.)

Who would've thought that this was in the cards for him? Certainly not Hancock. He thought he was lucky enough just to be in the presence of someone like Sole, but for her to return the feelings he had for her? To enthusiastically agree to being in a relationship with him? To want to start a family together? Hancock was sure he was dead, or riding the wildest high of his life, for how could this be reality for someone like him? A junkie, a bachelor, a coward, a ghoul, a flimsy torn page with "bad news" written all over it. Nah, he didn't deserve this, but damn was he overjoyed at the fact that Sole thought he did, and who was he to question her judgement?

Hancock had never thought this would be possible, the whole "baby" thing… even though he knew about donors and such, he always thought it would be too painful for Sole to consider having a family again. And with him? Of all the folks in the Commonwealth and beyond, she wanted the infamous ghoulified mayor of Goodneighbor to be a father? To her kid? He was fucking ecstatic. He didn’t quite understand why she wanted to raise a baby with him, why she thought he’d be any good at it, if she thought that. He knew he wouldn’t be the perfect fit for this kinda lifestyle; that he knew for certain, but the fact that she wanted him to try… that shit made his whole body tingle with warm gratitude from the inside out.

He would try to be calm, collected, and altogether nonchalant about the whole process in order to keep Sole relaxed. From finding the donor, to the fertilization, to the pregnancy, and all the way through to Sole going into labor, he would try to be as calm and cool as a November night. And on the outside, he'd do a damn good job, but inside? Nah, inside, this ghoul's worried sick. If anything went wrong with his sunshine, he wouldn't know what to do, he's not sure he could take a blow like that.

So, he’d try not to think too much about what could go wrong, since he knew that would only make it harder for him to be there for Sole in the way that she needed, but occasionally he’d just have those kinda days. A bad trip, a fitful night fraught with horrific dreams, a bout of horrifying overthinking as Sole uttered a pained sound from one little thing or another, or a stint of morning sickness that seemed to last just a bit too long for his liking. All of these would have the poor mayor on edge. Normally, when he was stressed, Hancock would try to chill out with some jet, or calmex, but he really was trying to give up the junkie life to the best of his irradiated abilities. It was a vicious cycle of anxiety every once in a while, but Sole was always there to help him through it. To remind him that this wasn’t her first experience with having a baby, to tell him that he was doing a wonderful job, despite his anxieties, and to remind him that they were the Sole Survivor and the Mayor of fucking Goodneighbor, and that they could face damn near anything when they were together.

Those were only the bad days though. On the good days, oh, hon... Hancock was simply blissful. Sole really is in for a treat, as she is absolutely 100% pampered and loved on, coddled and looked after for 9 months straight, and then some (minus the couple of bad days, where she has to be the one doing the coddling, but really, how could she mind?). As soon as the pair finds out that Sole really is going to have this baby, Hancock is already offering her anything she may need in order to stay safe and comfortable for the next 9 months.

Hancock’s chill personality really shines when it comes to any mood swings Sole may have, and a lifetime of chem and alcohol use has rendered the ghoul particularly skilled at cooking foods that are comforting and easy to make/eat that come in handy after bouts of morning sickness. Who knew that all of his hangover experience would come in handy like this?

While Hancock loves nothing more than going on adventures in the Commonwealth alongside his beloved, he wouldn’t say it in so many words, but would be more reluctant than usual to leave Goodneighbor or Sole’s house. When, before, he would have leapt up at the prospect of hunting down some goons and making the world a better place through some good ole fashioned violence, Hancock couldn’t think of anything worse than having Sole get injured, or potentially losing the one he loves more than anything in the world, and the possibility of a future family with her if some shit went wrong. So, while he absolutely knows she is capable and an complete beast in combat, and he recognizes that Sole can’t stay cooped up indoors for the whole 9 months, (and let’s face it, he certainly doesn’t want to either, but he’s not about to leave his love behind so he can get outta the house once in a while) he definitely steers the pair away from the areas he knows to be more sketchy than others.

Hancock just loves showing Sole off. He did this before the pregnancy as well, but man, now if anyone comes up to the pair when she starts showing, you know Hancock is already beaming as he tells the inquiring stranger just how far along she is, whether it’s a boy or a girl (if they know), or even what they think the baby’s gender is if they don’t want to know/can’t find out, how often the baby has been kicking, and he may even ask for opinions on baby names from certain kind folks who come up to chat with the parents-to-be. It’s also quite likely that he uses these passer-byes as an indirect way to further compliment Sole, saying things to them like, “Doesn’t she look gorgeous?,” “Just look at how she glows,” or “It’s just incredible how you/these ladies do this, isn’t it? Damn it if she's not the strongest person I know,” just to showcase his admiration for her. Does it sometimes result in strange looks from the strangers? Of course. Does Hancock care, or even seem to notice? Not remotely. He's too busy gawking at the love of his life and her blushing, embarrassed glory.

The mayor tends not to be rude about it unless the person ignores him, but if he notices someone smoking nearby, he will ask them to put out whatever it is, or to simply move if he and Sole were there first. In addition to that, he will make quite the lifestyle change for himself, voluntarily giving up chems to the best of his abilities so long as withdrawals don't prevent him from caring for Sole, and when he does partake, Hancock won’t do it around her, he’ll move outside or to another room. He would also offer to give up alcohol, since he knows that she won’t be able to drink with him anyway, and leave it up to her if she wants him to go cold turkey like her. Even if she doesn’t mind, he still won’t drink in excess around her during her pregnancy. It's kind of a respect thing for him, and there ain't no one he respects more than the future mother of his child.

(little bit of NSFW content here) When it comes to sex, Hancock is even more generous than usual in the bedroom (if you can believe it's possible). His every movement acts as a tribute to his appreciation for the woman he loves more than life itself. He’d be sure to be gentle, but in all honesty, Hancock wouldn’t change anything too much (no need to fix what ain't broken, ya know?). He has always paid particular attention to Sole beneath the sheets, since he’s quite experimental, and comfortable with most kinks and things himself, so he tends to let her choose positions, location, duration, and pacing, and would definitely keep it this way during the pregnancy. You think this man used to really get into body worship before, this is just a whole nuther level. As Sole puts on weight later into her pregnancy, he takes full advantage of her swelling plushness, running his hands over her body, taking the time to squeeze and palm every bit of her growing softness, constantly complimenting every bit of her as his starving eyes eat up every inch of her beauty. Especially if Sole is self-conscious about any of the changes in her body, Hancock will be sure to constantly remind her that she’s the most captivating and gorgeous person he’s ever met. No stretch mark appears on her body without being lovingly kissed, no soreness will develop without the offer of a nice, long massage (this perhaps is just another excuse to get his hands on her), no tenderness will go unnoticed and will be accounted for when his hands are roaming her body. In general, he’s as loving and doting as ever, but he's also on high alert for any signs of pain or discomfort coming from his other half.

He’d be SO excited every time the baby kicked. For some reason, the babe seems to wait until he’s around to do it, and he’s thrilled. Sole is a little weirded out by it, but she honestly takes it as a good sign. But oh man, Hancock's hands will be all up in that shit, not wanting to miss a thing as Sole smiles at him like this isn't the fourth time this has happened in one evening (does he use this as yet another excuse to touch Sole? Hmm, who knows [the answer is yes]). Sometimes he forgets to be sympathetic when Sole can't sleep due to the fluttering in her belly, but his roughened hands smoothing rhythmically over her stomach throughout the night might just help her catch a few Zzs after all.

He’s admittedly quite nervous as she approaches labor, becoming ever more protective as her belly swells to its largest point, ensuring she avoids any kinda gun fight, crazy high heights or unneeded stress, and he would be adamant about Sole sitting out any outings, missions, or other activities in the dangers of the Commonwealth. But man, would he make an environment she didn’t want to leave. Pillows, snacks, dim lighting, good conversation, music, soft touches, compliments galore, and a man who is at her constant beck and call, willing and happy to do anything and everything she might need or want? Yeah, here’s to say, Sole didn’t really want to leave anyway.

By the end of the pregnancy, Hancock has a strange mix of apprehension and denial going on. He’s used to Sole being pregnant now, he knows how to deal with everything, how to take care of her, what makes her uncomfortable and how to fix it. But a kid? An infant? He doesn’t know how babies work, doesn’t know how to tell what they want from him. He’s excited beyond belief at the thought of being a father, but he just doesn’t know how to do it. He tries to think back to his own dad, and the way that he was brought up as a kid, (though, he's not sure that's a great frame of reference given the way he turned out) and definitely goes off of Sole’s judgement, but he can’t shake the feeling that he was never meant for this. To settle down and have a family. He isn’t his dad, he’s Hancock. He’s not a “family man,” not a picturesque pre-war looking man with a normal job and a cookie-cutter backstory; he’s a self-made ghoul, a junkie, a deadbeat whose earned his position of power by bathing in the blood of tyrants who died by his own hand, and shooting his veins up with every kinda poison the wastes have to offer. How do you explain that to a kid? That he made himself the way he is, cuz he couldn’t stand the man he’d grown up to be? What the hell kinda example is that? He wouldn't doubt for a second that his baby would be the center of his world from the moment he sees it, but if anything, that only ups the anxiety that he'll do something to mess the kid up. Hancock would be nervous as shit, but if Sole had confidence in him, well… he trusts her judgement more than he does his own, so if she thinks he’s "daddy" material, he ain’t gonna argue with that. All he can do is hope she’s right, follow her lead, take it one day at a time, and hope that him trying his absolute hardest will be enough.

[foolish-clown]

Legends Never Die

A/N: So I am not going to lie I have absolutely no idea where this came from. I have been playing The Last of Us which may have something to do with it but. . . Yeah.

Warning's: Torture, gaslighting, manipulation, blood, injury, alcohol, major character death, toxic family relationships, and trauma. Reader does not have a good time

When consciousness begins its slow tortuous descent from your brain to the rest of your body, you had begged it to stop.

The viper had her fangs in deep, will you manage to escape her hold?

When consciousness begins its slow torturous descent from your brain to the rest of your body, you had begged it to stop.

First, it was the continuous barrage of dripping water raging havoc on your throbbing temple; your hearing far too dulled to even comprehend anything else. There was the sensation of something warm and wet as it trickled from your ears and down the side of your face, sometimes catching on the layers of crusted red that already stained your skin.

You don’t bother opening your eyes. You knew what you would see, and even if it was anything different from the dark grey walls of your hellscape, you knew it would only because you were under the influence of her magic.

The sharpness of her voice echoes in your mind, the way it coils around your throat like a viper; head level with yours with its deadly teeth on display.

Remember, it speaks, eyes the same color as your own, you gave me no other choice.

Perhaps she was right, perhaps you should have just done what you were told rather than trying so hard to gain her acceptance. After all, you were to be the future Ruler of your kingdom, the person your people would look up to for guidance and safety.

But all you had cared about was proving yourself to her, selfishly wishing to hear the very words that she has spoken to your sibling time and time again.

“I am so proud of you.”

Tears begin to fill in the corner of your eyes. You had thought yourself too weak to even conjure them up anymore, yet here they were.

“I’m sorry,” you croak out, voice hoarse from unuse as your swollen throat tried to form the letters. “I am so sorry.”

Footsteps echo against stone, calculated and teasing as they grow louder. “Pathetic,” the viper sneers, and when you finally open your eyes, the deadly snake is replaced with the sight of The Queen.

Your mother.

“Such a waste,” she sighs, the words – having been said to you countless times before – do nothing but chisel away at your broken form rather than strike deep like they used to. “You could have been so much more, and yet here we are,” a feigned sigh of disappointment, the muscles in your neck too strained to keep your head up for the rest.

She places a hand on your stained shirt, right above where your beating heart is fighting to keep you alive. “Useless. The only thing you have left to offer is your magic, and even that has started to become impotent.”

“My apologies,” you mumble, the words having been ingrained into every single sentence you spoke to her.

The corner of her lips twitch, and before you know it the hand she had on your chest glowed a dull green before your body felt like it had been set on fire. Every single nerve ends sizzling hot and causing muscles to spasm and your vision to blur.

You are aware that your mouth is open, but there is no sound, no screaming. Any air that had been resting in your lungs releasing in a single breath.

The pain is intense, all-encompassing, and rendering any voluntary motion impossible. You can feel the cold metal of your restraints rub deeper into the untreated sores already there, droplets of blood forming on old wounds and smudging your skin with each twist of your arm.

You can feel that last strings of consciousness begin to snap one by one, darkness forming over you like a storm cloud and daring you to keep yourself awake as it plagues your mind with memories long since forgotten while under the influence of your mother’s torture.

And just how quickly it all started, it was gone once your mother pulled her hand back.

Labored breaths reverberate from the walls, the small space quickly becoming humid and causing your clothing to become unbearably clingy. Sweat layers against your skin and leaves you wishing for a gentle breeze to brush through your hair and whisk you away.

There is a noise behind you, however, you are given no time to react before your small damp world becomes dark once again.

- - - - - - - - - - ☆ - - - - - - - - - -

Cold washes over your body and alerts you into consciousness. Eyes snapping over to find your mother standing before you with a now-empty bucket held in her grasp.

“It would seem some are questioning your whereabouts,” she hums, and you can’t distinguish the look hidden behind her eyes, “even after the treasonous things you have committed. It is hard to fathom the reason why they care.”

It doesn’t take long for you to figure out who could be asking questions. While it had been a strict rule growing up for you to always stay behind the castle walls unless supervised there had been instances where you couldn’t stop yourself.

Music. It flowed through your veins and sang freely in your heart.

Your mother had been against your passion from the beginning, arguing that your entire focus should be on preparing yourself as the future Ruler. And that something so frivolous was nothing but a distraction.

Your father had disagreed, even going so far as to gift you a fiddle on your birthday.

You can remember the pure happiness swirling around you as soon as your eyes covered its wooden surface, how pictures of a dancing Buck – your family’s emblem – were carved intricately on its surface.

You had hugged your father tight, tears of joy and gratitude filling your vision as you looked into his eyes.

You spent many hours with and without a tutor, practicing and perfecting. The desire to show others leads you to sneak out at night in disguise and bare your talents to anyone who would listen.

You formed your first friendships on those nights, something you had been denied of before then.

You have no idea where your beloved instrument is now, probably burned or broken like you are. Never knowing when freedom will have you in its grasp again.

You can feel her stare as she becomes quiet, probably analyzing her next move. “Your sister is to be coronated on the next full moon. It is such a shame you will be unable to attend.”

Fear clutches your heart at the implications, eyes going wide and causing the viper to grin in satisfaction. Your reactions had been beginning to become boring to witness, and interest was what was keeping you alive.

“Mothe-“

“Hold your tongue. You are no child of mine.”

The words alone are enough for your jaw to be commanded shut, eyes boring holes into the stonework above you. Instinct has your body feeling more awake than it had been in days. . . Weeks? You were not entirely sure how much time has passed since you first awoke here.

No more words are spoken, the heavy wooden door closing before the ripples of magic surround it once again.

Terror has your breathing becoming labored, your chest rising and falling unevenly as you twist your arm in a futile attempt at escape. Whispered curses fell passed your lips the more you struggled.

Through the haze in your mind you attempt to remember any part of your magic training that could help, but seeing as you were so short after your mother’s continuous draining you feared that there wasn’t enough inside you, to begin with.

It is with that knowledge that you slump back against the table in defeat, sobs forcing their way into the world and letting no one but yourself of your own desperation.

“I-I’m sorry, father,” you whimper, longing for his comforting embrace to make you feel better, “I didn’t mean to do it, I s-swear.”

You would not get a response, not from him. Never again.

But even in death, he was still there to guide you, it seems; the sound of the thick door handle echoing throughout the space before a new voice fills your mind.

“Hush now, young one, I am here.”

It is more enough for your eyes to snap open, quickly searching out the arrival and blinking in disbelief when wide unblinking gold orbs stare back at you.

It was your father’s owl, Persephone.

Her voice is gentle when it once again filters into your mind, the jingling of keys averting your attention to what was held in her grasp. “You need to leave.” With some difficulty she manages to get the key into the shackle and twist, freeing your limb.

It is tender at the wrists from the constant rubbing, and you wince when your muscles complain from lack of use, but adrenaline has you shaking it all away. Fingers reach for the key and free yourself before turning back to Persephone.

“How did you—”

“No time,” she interrupts, eyes still unblinking as she looks at you, “go.”

“What of the guards? I am too weak to get anywhere so quickly.” Your legs would have given way had you not been holding yourself up, dulled pain shooting up to your knee and rendering your legs unstable at best.

“Here,” she flies back to the door and gestures for you to open it, your lack of balance meaning you need a moment in order to do so.

You watch, wary, as the magic surrounding the wooden frame warps when you tentatively reach out a hand. The sensation as if you were wading through particularly thickened air.

And nothing more.

Taking a deep breath you step through, beyond relieved when you get through unharmed.

Persephone waits until your attention is back on her, flying over to the end of the hallway just to your left.

“There,” she uses a talon to gesture at an unlit torch. Confusion clouds your senses before you reach out and grab the surface and pull. A soft click resounding before the screech of shifting stone has you glancing back in hopes no one could hear.

The pathway beyond is pitch black, your eyes failing to see more than a couple of feet before you.

Casting one last glance at Persephone, your savior, you express all of the gratitude swirling deep before taking a step into the unknown.

- - - - - - - - - - ☆ - - - - - - - - - -

With a few muscles still complaining, you heaved yourself until you could sit. The air was fresh, the small breeze only strong enough to dance with the wisps of your shortened hair and the individual pieces of grass beneath you.

There was a slight chill, but you pushed it aside to focus on other things. You needed to keep moving, staying in one place for too long is a very dangerous thing for you to do.

And so with that in mind, you rose to your feet, the beaten and worn stained boots trudged towards your grazing companion. A smile complimented your features when the large black stallion perked up in interest upon your approach.

“Hello old friend,” you greet, chuckling when he pushed his snout against your outstretched hand. “Not much further now, you may have a treat when we get there.” His deep voice echoes in your mind, relenting his nagging for the time being.

Time has been rough, and you like to think you had managed to adapt to it at least a little. But the truth was you had been lucky. News of your escape had spread far and fast. Posters littering every town with a sum for your head.

You had even heard children singing little rhymes, their joyful voices like a mocking shadow that whispered into your ear as you slept.

Changing your appearance had been the easy part. After all the clothes you had escaped in were dirtied and torn, bloodstains covering its surface and leaving you looking the furthest thing from Royalty.

Coming up with a new name had also been easy, but responding to it was where you struggled. Especially since there was no title, no respect, or pride as it was announced.

It made you sound entitled now that you think about it, but it was simply what you were used to.

Reaching into one of the saddlebags, you retrieve a map you had. . . “acquired” and looked upon its surface. It wasn’t detailed in the slightest, only marking major cities, but you had managed to crudely draw in villages and towns when you passed.

You didn’t want to have to steal from the innocent and hardworking, working any and all jobs that you were given. And it was during those moments that you truly realized your skills were not of use for laborious activities.

You were taught to fight, of course, a well-made sword was deadly under your guide. But you were brought up to rely heavily on your magical abilities, taught to wield them as if they were an extension of your physical body.

Perhaps to a point, it is.

But your studies had been cut short, and the circumstances with your moth—with the Queen meant that you feel like the magic within you has been. . . lessened. Or perhaps locked away. You weren’t quite sure what she had been doing to you but any time you used your magic it would cut off quickly and left you feeling exhausted after only a couple of minutes.

Whatever money you did manage to garner though, you saved up to buy the cheapest fiddle you could find. You were aware that it was a risk, your love for the instrument was something The Queen was aware of, after all. But you also knew that it was a way for you to earn more money in a way you would both enjoy and be good at.

All in all, it was a good investment, and you were happy with the purchase. The instrument itself was poorly made and constantly needed tuning, but you had grown fond of it – it was like the first step into your new life, an unknown, dangerous step.

“Well,” you sigh after placing the map back and patting your horse’s neck, “you ready?”

“Do I have a choice?” He says while turning his head to you, and you grin right back.

“Of course you do, I have no chance of matching you in a race.” The thought makes you laugh, something that was scarce in and of itself.

The stallion snorts, tapping his hoof once against the ground, “you need me to look after you.”

Not a complete lie, you think, patting his neck one last time before hoisting yourself onto the saddle. But I have enough pride to keep that to myself.

It was one thing you had guarded like a mother wolf with her pups, teeth bared and eyes locked on. Emotions, feelings. They were not to be trusted by anyone but yourself.

I will not make the same mistake again.

It only took but a few hours until the sight of thatched rooftops and wooden beams began to peak in the distance, smoke contrasting heavily with the clear blue of the skies above.

As you close the distance you make sure to tighten the buckle keeping the two sides of your cloak together and pulling down the brim of your bycocket down to cover more of your face. From what you could make out there didn’t seem to be any of the Royal Guard loitering around, but you couldn’t be too careful.

Once right on the outskirts you hop off the saddle, taking hold of the reigns as you decide to continue further on foot. Stopping short when you notice a wooden sign placed in front of the first building, worn lettering placed against its surface.

Whitestone.

Letting go of the reigns you quickly retrieve your map and lean it up against your horse’s body so you can write down the location and name; a disgruntled snort coming from your companion to show off his offense at being used as a makeshift table.

“Oh hush,” you mumble, patting the spot you had just been leaning against.

There is a merchant just off to the right of the sign, a single cart behind him that has all of his wares. “A stranger! It isn’t often we get new faces in these parts.” His smile is wide and aura welcome, but you supposed that was to gain interest for what he was selling.

“Yes sir,” you nod, “passing through.”

“Why the rush? You look like you could use the rest,” his words aren’t completely wrong but you didn’t like to rest in inns or taverns; too many people and too high a chance of being caught out.

“Oh, um, I appreciate the kind offer bu—”

“Splendid! My wife actually owns the inn. Tell her I sent you, should help with the, uh, suspicions. Ever since the young Royal has been declared missing people have been worrying that they will turn up and go on a murderous rampage.” He has leaned in to whisper this to you, and the words send a spike of fear straight to your chest.

Does he know? Have I been caught?

The terror begins filling your body, shoulders tensing and locking as your complexion pales. The merchant picked up on this but thankfully mistaking it for something else. “Ah, my apologies stranger, I promise they haven’t turned up in these parts so you have nothing to worry about.”

“R-right,” you manage to force out, but fear still has you in its clutches. “Um, perhaps I shall go to the inn. Thank you.”

You don’t hear his response over the harsh beat of your heart, but thankfully your horse senses your struggle and gently guides your legs to begin moving as you still have hold of the reigns. His ears twitch as if he is making sure that no one can bother you while you regain your breathing in an attempt to calm yourself down.

“Thank you,” you breathe out after a moment, placing a hand against his side in gratitude.

He doesn’t ‘verbally’ reply, but his snort of air says all he needs to.

- - - - - - - - - - ☆ - - - - - - - - - -

After leading your horse to the trough of water and giving him the promised treat, you enter through the front door of the inn. The environment has always been something you have felt more at home in, especially when comparing it to the wide lonely spaces of the castle.

You didn’t need to overthink people’s words here, there was no politics or manipulation. Just drunken people having good times with the good company.

It is currently midday, however, so the lively atmosphere usually accompanied with the building is calmed for the time being.

Making your way over to the bar, you take a seat right as someone rounds a corner, no one having the time to comprehend anything before you find yourself soaked from head to shoulder by. . . you lick your lips. Yep, that was alcohol.

“Oh no,” you hear a voice cry out, the image of a tall slender woman entering your vision before she has dashed away back to where she came. Returning seconds later with a rag in hand. “I am so sorry – I tripped – please let me help.”

Despite yourself and the sticky sensation you can’t help but laugh at the situation, reaching out to steady the woman’s frantic motions. She was currently leaning all the way over the bar, attempting to scrub you dry.

You can’t help but take notice of her hair, its golden shine reminding you of the sun and its glory. “It’s perfectly alright,” you smile, once again gently taking hold of her hands so you could gain her attention. “I am not harmed, so there is nothing for you to apologize for.”

Her nose scrunches in confusion, but she does stop her hurried attempt at wiping you clean, “I just spilled ale all over you,” she states, like you weren’t there for it, “of course I am going to apologize for that.”

“What I meant was that you needn’t feel guilty over it,” you reiterate, watching as the shy glint of that very emotion shines in her eyes, “accidents happen.”

She averts her eyes at your words, fingers picking at the cloth, “yes but unfortunately for me they happen too often.”

You open your mouth with reassurances ready on your tongue, but they don’t get the chance to escape as another person rounds the corner. She looks like a spitting image of the one before you, the only difference being that age clouds her features with wrinkles and specks of grey.

Her eyes take in who you assume to be her daughter, before gazing at you, then back to her daughter and sighing. “Not again, Yoohyeon.”

“I’m sorry mother—”

“It’s alright she didn’t mean to—”

Your eyes meet after realizing that you spoke at the same time, red coloring her cheeks as you can feel yours do the same.

The older woman lets out another sigh before turning her full attention to you. “A bath is on the house, it is the least we can do. I will also have Yoohyeon clean your clothing.”

There is a rebuttal at the ready, but the woman sees through it right away.

“Please, I insist.”

Fear bubbles deep, but you hesitantly agree to the offer. A shaky smile spearing when one is directed at you before she begins picking up the dropped mugs from the floor.

Yoohyeon turns to you then, very visibly still embarrassed. “I will show you to your room,” she mumbles, gesturing for you to follow.

When you reach out of earshot from the main part of the inn you can no longer deny the urge to call out, “hey, uh, miss Yoohyeon?”

The way she halts at her name is abrupt and you almost collide into her back because of it. “I’m sorry again,” she bows, somehow coming to the conclusion that you had changed your mind and now aimed to scold.

Perish the thought.

“Hey,” you whisper out, waiting until she lifts her eyes to meet yours. “I promise you I’m not upset. In fact, if anything, I am going to use this opportunity to earn myself a free drink.” You add a smile to your statement, happiness filing your chest when she does the same.

“I think I owe you more than one after that,” she quips, and you’re delighted at how her laugh trickles into your ears and sends shivers down your spine.

“I will never say no to free drinks,” confidence filters into your veins. You might have been watched at social events but there was no denying your natural charisma when interacting with others. You wished to make them smile and laugh, to learn about their interests and what makes them angry or sad.

You thrived around people, it was part of who you were.

Yoohyeon leads you to the door that is at the complete opposite end of the bar, opening it to reveal a small room with a single bed to the right, a dresser, and a medium-sized wooden bathtub placed on the other side.

“If you could leave your clothes just outside the door when you change, should have them cleaned and ready before your bath ends.”

You cast one more look around the room before turning back to her with a gentle smile, “that won’t be necessary,” you state, watching as she tilts her head before bringing your hand up and whispers a spell. Green sparks dancing off your fingers and drying your clothes within a blink of an eye.

Magic wasn’t a universal thing, not everyone that lived upon the lands could wield it. But it wasn’t uncommon for simple folk to be gifted its capabilities, and so the risk of casting magic by itself wasn’t entirely a dangerous thing.

But even if it was you couldn’t help but decide it was worth it at Yoohyeon’s expression alone. Her mouth is wide with wonder as she flitters her gaze between your now clean clothing and the hand that had made them so.

“A spellcaster,” she breathes, awe accompanying her words. “I have never met one before.”

“Well,” you grin, giving off a large bow for dramatic effect, “I am happy to be the first.”

Excitement clouds her vision as questions spring from her lips, the enthusiasm means that laughter is pulled from yours. This was a nice change, you decided, being able to show a tiny piece of yourself without the fear of being reprehended for it.

“Have you ever set anything on fire?”

An image of you as a child comes to mind, fingers outstretched and mouth open as you create little roars. You always loved your father’s tales of dragons – mighty beasts that could create fire at will, soaring through the skies with freedom to guide their wings.

The Queen was very quick to halt whenever you did this, stating that it was not the kind of behavior a Ruler should be demonstrating.

“No,” you smile, but memories of the Queen have it coming out strained, “I have never mastered the art of the flame. Perhaps one day.”

You were far too afraid to ask anyone for lessons as your magic would have a certain ‘signature’ due to your Royal heritage. And the prospect of teaching yourself from books could do more harm than good should even the smallest mistake occur.

Yoohyeon doesn’t seem to notice the beginnings of your inner turmoil, her eyes sweeping the length of your body as if the very clothes you wore would come alive and begin to dance.

“Amazing,” she whispers, and by the sudden change of color brightening her cheeks you reckon that it wasn’t supposed to be spoken aloud.

Still, you can’t help but find her blunders completely endearing.

“Thank you,” you reply just as tenderly, holding her gaze when she raises it to meet yours.

The sun’s rays are radiant and warm when they filter through the window; your eyes brighten in wonder as they embrace Yoohyeon’s entire being and let it glow with golden radiance.

She is far more magnificent than any magic that could pour from my fingertips.

“Well,” she says after a moment, running a hand through her hair, “I shall leave you to have some rest. Please let us know if you need anything. . . ?”

“Y/N,” you fumble, almost forgetting the name you had given yourself, “my name is Y/N.”

“Y/N,” she smiles, and you need to resist the urge to close your eyes when the gentle way she speaks your name washes over you. “I hope you enjoy your stay.”

And with that, she leaves, your world becoming dimmer once the door closes behind her.

- - - - - - - - - - ☆ - - - - - - - - - -

Despite it going against the rules you had set for yourself, you can’t deny the urge to sleep on an actual bed again. Awakening a few hours later, the sun no longer warming the earth with its presence.

You make your way back to the main part of the Inn, and a smile breaks free when the sounds of music and laughter filter into your ears.

You follow the commotion, your passion coming alive when the sight of musicians playing and people dancing has your muscles itching to do the same. Your legs lead you to your horse and fetching your fiddle before you’re joining in.

The other musicians don’t even blink an eye as you join them, grinning in a drunken stupor as they follow your lead.

There is a smile on your face, unapologetic and wild as you let the music encase you within the moment. You were not the treasonous child of Royalty; there was no draining of your magic or the sharp fangs of a viper here.

Only you, fiddle in hand and true emotion pouring from its strings.

Through the haze of euphoric happiness, you meet the eyes of another; their sparkle indistinguishable even amongst the growing crowd.

Yoohyeon.

Just the sight of her has your heart working in tandem with your fingers, their frantic motion for upbeat joviality slowing until melodic glamour filters into the space.

Your eyes close as the improvised song envisions the way your emotions attempt to find themselves through the haze of embedded fear. Faltering and tripping over themselves thanks to the efforts of the Queen and her aim for making you a shadow of who you once were.

And once they find their footing within your chest, only then do you reopen your eyes to find the person behind the lightness there. Your gaze finds Yoohyeon as she watches you with rapt attention, mouth open in awe like she could see right through you.

You didn’t know it then, but the emotion that had settled within your heart during that moment would be your greatest unknown.

When your song came to its end, you replied to the roaring crowd with a bow, thanking the other musicians that had allowed you to join before making your way over to the bar.

You place your fiddle safely beside you, breathing in a content sigh before you find yourself enlightened by Yoohyeon’s much-welcomed presence.

“A spellcaster and a talented musician,” she says, a teasing yet awed look within her eyes, “there has to be some weakness you’re hiding.”

Just a tainted past, you think, replying instead, “of course there isn’t, I am simply impenetrable.”

Her laugh rings deep, infectious with the way it draws out your own. “Right, of course.”

Just as she had promised earlier, any drinks you wished to have were on the house, and just like you had said you were certainly taking advantage of it. Poor rolls of the dice leaving you tipsy within seconds.

“Yoohyeon!” You call once you notice that she is free for the moment, “dance with me?”

A request, one that is met with little hesitance as she takes your offered hand, and before you know it you’re twirling her around with bright laughter. The alcohol in your system means that steps are faltered and accidental collisions with other people are made.

You don’t know when it happens, the blur in your vision and gaps within your memory don’t bother with the minor details. But at some point the tempo decreases, Yoohyeon’s hands finding themselves on your shoulders with her body drawing in close.

The sight of her, smile tender and eyes alight with glee and alcohol leaves you breathless.

Her scent embraces your senses and urges your eyes to close. Safety. She made you feel safe.

It dawns on your muddled brain, and you are left to push away the implications when she leans the side of her head against yours. Golden hair tickles your cheeks and causes your hands to twitch with the desire to know how soft it is to brush it away from her eyes.

There is a small voice within the back of your mind, feint as it was. You do not know this woman, do not forget that the past is on your heels at every moment.

But tonight, you tell it to keep it down, as you doubt another chance such as this will appear for a very long time, if ever.

A shift has you opening your eyes, the world around you is nonexistent. Only you and Yoohyeon, and her lips on yours.

Wait. . . What?

- - - - - - - - - - ☆ - - - - - - - - - -

When you awake, it is with a throbbing headache and no memory of the night prior.

You reach a hand to your temple, rubbing the pulsating part as if it would banish away the nauseous feeling.

Unfortunately, your magic wasn’t even enough to cure the likes of a simple hangover, and you couldn’t help but curse out the world because of it.

Still, you needed to push through it and leave as soon as possible. You had already stayed far too long than you would have liked.

And so with a groan of utter despair, you roll off the comfort of your bed and sit up. Something in the corner of your eyes instantly caught your attention.

It was your fiddle. . . Had you played it last night?

Flashes riddle your mind, but the more you try to remember the more your mind burns in pain. But you catch glimpses of gold within the sea of black, a star lighting the void.

And nothing more.

Shaking it away, you reach for your instrument before taking an unsteady step forward and leaving your room.

You did with to give your thanks to the family, doing so when you see both the innkeeper and the merchant talking to each other behind the bar.

“Thank you,” you force out, the hangover making it sound slightly pained and slurred, “I am truly grateful for your kindness, but I must be on my way.”

Due to your state, you don’t notice the wary look in their eyes as you make your way to the main entrance, but as soon as you see the familiar greens of the Royal Guard your body becomes alert, panic setting in deep and fast.

“We know you’re in there,” you hear one of them call, “let’s not make this any more of a struggle than it already has been.”

I’m the back of your mind you sense it, the hiss of its tongue as it draws near.

A viper.

“Surrender yourself, ‘Y/N’” its voice sneers, and you can feel the ropes of her magic begin to coil around you, “didn’t you always say you would be loyal to the Queen?”

“I am,” the words grit themselves between your teeth without your consent nor your control, “I am loyal to the Queen Mother.”

You watch with tears in your eyes as the door slowly opens, the viper in your head, with its eyes the same color as your own, now standing before you.

You can feel yourself trembling, and when she takes a step forward that’s when you see it.

Around her neck. . . A single owl feather.

You don’t know what happens next, but you know a scream is tearing itself from your throat, eyes ablaze as fire sweeps around you in all its burning glory.

A dragon, just like in your father’s stories. It rages in your veins and explodes through your magic.

You have no control where it goes, no semblance on how to stop it as it sweeps the whole inn with a roaring tenacity that allows nothing to stop it.

You hear cries, both of pain and terror, but only one catches your attention.

And when you turn to look, Yoohyeon is enveloped in flames.

[jjungkooksthighs]

Yearn for You | jjk (m)

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

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

◊  Rating: 18+ / nsfw

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook,” you whimper, “touch me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Jungkook, I-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

          Jimin:

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

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

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

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

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

          Jungkook:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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