#different part of the state in a year and they’d have fallen out of touch within the next two and they mean to get back in touch but never

[morganwrites-starwars]

Time Waits for No One

A Sequal to Time is a social construct.

Summary: What do you do when you time travel 50 years in the past with your Jedi son, accidentally adopt 3 more kids, and become Mand’alor? Din figured stopping a Sith uprising was a good answer. He just has to unite the Mandalorian factions, repair relationships with the Jedi, and stop a galactic civil war. Easy.

Masterlist

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Sometimes, in the middle of the night, when Din was alone in bed, he wondered what his parents thought of the man he’d become. Would they be proud of their son? A little boy from a backwater planet becoming the leader of an infamous warrior race (and that’s not even taking the time travel into account). Or would they be disappointed that Din had fallen so far from whatever future they’d envisioned for him? Din liked to imagine they would’ve loved their grandchildren, if not be a little concerned about how he acquired them. Din’s buir definitely would’ve been proud. No longer was he the beroya of a tribe that hid in the sewers. Din was the kriffing Mand’alor. What Mando’ade wouldn’t be proud of their child in that case?

These ruminations only caused Din to spiral as he grappled with his reality. Baby Din Djarin hadn’t even been born yet. Would Din try to convince his parents to come to Mandalore when he was born, or would this Din get to live a normal life with his parents? Din’s mind would run itself in circles with paradoxes until the sun crept past the spires of the stronghold. Din hadn’t been sleeping well lately. It made council meetings particularly tedious and painful. There was less useless back-and-forth arguing in Din’s council than Satine’s because Din didn’t have the patience for it. His followers (and it was still weird to think of them as such) appreciated that about him. Jango was impressed at his Mando wrangling skills. Din attributed it to the fact that half of his kids were Mandalorian and the other half were Jetii. 

Satine and Bo-Katan lived part-time in Sundari- it was still their home even if Din had relocated to the city of Keldabe. The city was still being rebuilt, having fallen into a state of disrepair after most of its occupants, who had been Haat Mando’ade, left the planet. Grogu stayed with Din. Jango babysat the kid when he got bored during meetings. Din was starting to suspect that half the time Jango whisked Grogu out of meetings was due to Jango’s own annoyance with politics. Jango was doing a great job at helping reconstruct the ori’ramikad, but he still got dragged into some meetings as a representative of the Haat Mando’ade.

Obi-wan was the only one of Din’s ade he didn’t see regularly. He and Qui-gon traveled the galaxy for their Jetii missions, often being out of contact for days at a time. The temple had been very helpful, sending updates about Obi-wan’s missions and grades. Din had been in touch with a Jetii from the EduCorps to ensure Grogu had the Force education he needed. Dealing with Jetii was the easiest part of Din’s days, an irony that was not lost on Din.

Take where he was now, for example. Trying not to slump down on his throne- because apparently he just had to have a throne for his image- as he listened to grown Mando’ade argue over land claims on different planets in the system. Din had wanted to tell them to fight it out like the toddlers they were acting like, but that wasn’t conducive to the cohesive society he was trying to make. A shame, really. 

“Kalevala has been the home of the House Kryze for centuries, and as such, all the land on it is under the jurisdiction of the Duchess!” argued the Kryze representative, a young man named Almec. “It is an oasis for the New Mandalorians, who are uncomfortable with the sudden reappearance of armor and weapons in the cities. No offense, of course, meant to you, Mand’alor.”

Din waved his hand in acknowledgment, knowing fully well that Almec definitely meant at least a little offense. 

“And our clans have been living on the planet for even longer!” exclaimed the other representative, Sainn. She was mostly human, with tan skin patched with light blue. Din thought she was part Twi’lek. She wore partial armor- her arms and legs were covered with purple and blue armor. She was from a group of clans that didn’t claim one of the bigger houses and had primarily been independently governing themselves since before the New Mandalorians’ rise to power. They finally decided they wanted to join Din’s Mandalore-which was flattering- and wanted the rights to the land they lived on.

They were asking for less than 10% of the planet's land, so Din was inclined to grant it. Satine had decided she was okay with it, but Almec and some other New Mandalorians were not fans. Din preferred to come to a settlement everyone was happy with instead of ordering the land to be given to the clans. Less chance of unhappy politicians.

Din stood up as Almec opened his mouth to argue back. “Why do you want to keep the land so bad, Almec? No one in your house has used it in a long time. There’s no money in it, and the people living there now aren’t going to leave regardless.”

Almec seemed shocked at Din’s question. “It- it is a matter of principle-“

“What principle?”

“Having two different governments on one planet is asking for conflict-“

“You both will be under the same overall government. Bring any conflicts here. Unless“- Din tilted his head in a fashion he knew was menacing-“you were planning on making your own rules.” The hall was filled with a tense silence. Almec didn’t seem to know what to say in response to Din’s statement. Din nodded and sat back down. “One week, come back with an agreement in one week, or I will make a decision for you.”

Sainn and Almec brought their fists to their chests and bowed their heads. Din made a note to talk to Satine about Almec. There was trouble brewing there, and Din had more important things to worry about. Mainly, at that moment, whatever Silas was approaching him about. 

“Message from the Jetii council,” Silas muttered so the rest of the hall couldn’t hear. “They want to send some Jetii that can see the past or something. They want to see what they can find about the Zabrack that attacked you and Obi’ika. With your permission, they can be in Sundari by the end of the week.”

Din grunted in understanding. The Jetii had exchanged worried looks when Obi-wan had recounted their fight with the Zabrack. Obi-wan had explained to him that a red lightsaber was a Sith’s weapon. It was concerning that Din was apparently already a Sith target, and he hadn’t even done anything to antagonize them yet. The Jetii said it was likely the apprentice that had attacked them. If they could glean any information about the apprentice, it may lead them to the master. Din thought it was an inefficient system, a master taking an apprentice whose main goal was to kill the master. 

The rest of the day went by slowly, but Grogu spent most of the afternoon with Din, which was nice. After latemeal, Din called Satine and Bo-Katan to inform them about the visiting Jetii.

“Are you coming too?” Bo-katan asked.

“I’ll try,” Din answered. Silas had already taken to rearranging Din’s schedule to fit in the visit. This was also something Din was still adjusting to, having a schedule full of people who wanted to meet with Din. “Have you been practicing the forms I showed you last time?”

That night, Din lay in bed listening to Grogu’s soft breaths. Even in a stronghold full of capable warriors who would protect the child with their lives, Din still felt a twinge of worry every time his ad was out of sight. And while this time was safer for Grogu, there were new and unknown dangers around every corner. Sith, greedy politicians, and the remnants of the Death Watch lurked around every corner. It was a complex game that Din was still learning to play, and each move was shadowed by doubt. Even with his new friends, Din couldn’t stop worrying that he would make a wrong choice that would inevitably hurt one of his ade. It was just like the first weeks with Grogu, suddenly alone with a magical child and having to care for and protect them. Except now, Din had four ade. But he wasn’t alone. 

A few days later found Din in the familiar palace of Sundari. The damage from the Death Watch attack had been repaired, and a memorial for the Mando’ade that had died had been erected in the central garden. More people wore armor and carried weapons, but the city was still home to a large number of Mandalorians who preferred not to fight. Something Din didn’t care about. As he’d said a number of times- nothing in the Mandalorian creeds specified having to fight. There were many ways to protect ade and serve the Mand’alor. 

Bo-Katan was currently talking Din’s ear off about her classes at the newly established school that catered towards Mandalorian values rather than Coruscant ones. Satine added her own tidbits as she carried Grogu. They were waiting by the landing pads for the Jetii to arrive. Grogu had been excited all day, babbling and cooing. Din wondered what he was saying. Was he talking about how excited he was to see Obi-wan? Or maybe he was just telling Satine about a particularly interesting bug he’d seen earlier. The joys of having a magic toddler. 

The Jetii ship landed, and Obi-wan bounded off the ship with a large smile. Obi-wan skidded to a halt in front of Din, giving a bow that Din was sure wasn’t regulation, not that he cared. Grogu screeched joyfully, jumping out of Satine’s arms into Obi-wan’s.

“Hello, Grogu,” Obi-wan greeted fondly. Grogu babbled to him, and Obi-wan nodded in understanding. “And I have missed you too.” Obi-wan looked at Din, Satine, and Bo-Katan. “And you guys as well.”

Satine smiled and hugged Obi-wan, careful of Grogu still in his arms. Bo-Katan followed her sister’s lead and latched onto Obi-wan’s side, briefly throwing the little group off balance. Din fondly shook his head at his ade before reaching out and ruffling Obi-wan’s hair. The boy sputtered, and the girls released him as they laughed. Din noticed that Obi-wan had grown some since the last time they’d all been together. 

Qui-gon approached their group, two other Jedi following behind him. The younger boy, another padawan if Din had to guess by the braid resting on his shoulder, had a large grin and wore a sleeveless shirt. It didn’t fit well with the regalness of the man Din assumed was his Master. 

“Mand’alor,” Qui-gon greeted with a formal bow. His lip was quirked slightly. It was funny to think that Din had been considering throwing the man off the highest spire of the Sundari palace only months ago. Now, they were co-parenting a teenage Jedi who somehow got into more trouble than the tiny green one Din had taken in. It's funny how these kind of things work out.

“Master Jinn,” Din greeted, tipping his head in greeting. “Any disasters recently?”

“Only of the usual variety,” Qui-gon said, looking at Obi-wan, who was giving his best innocent face. It was ruined by Grogu giggling manically, probably sensing the bullshit Obi-wan was pulling. “Anyways, may I introduce you to Master Tholme and Padawan Quinlan Vos.” The two Jedi bowed. The padawan, Quinlan, looked confused as he looked at Din and Grogu. Din figured it had something to do with their ‘air of weirdness’ in the Force that Obi-wan said they had. Evidently, time travel did weird things to one’s aura. Din didn’t feel like he had an odd aura, but he wasn’t the expert.

“Su’cuy,” Din greeted. “You’re here to…read the past?”

“Quin has the ability to see the past when he touches objects. Memories, emotions, and such,” Obi-wan explained. 

“The council thinks I might be able to find out more about your Sithly attacker,” Quinlan added, still impishly smiling. “Is this the baby Yoda?”

“Your cooperation is very appreciated, Mand’alor,” Master Tholme said, not so discreetly tugging on his padawan’s braid in admonishment. Quinlan didn’t look repentant. Grogu crooned at the acknowledgment. 

“His name is Grogu,” Din said. Grogu cooed again at his name, signaling to Obi-wan to set him down. Grogu waddled to stand on Din’s foot, holding onto Din’s greave for balance. “And your help is appreciated. Sith aren’t our area of expertise. Mandalorians tend to get jumpy when they have an unknown enemy.”

“And jumpy Mandalorians are good for no one,” Qui-gon added. 

Satine cleared her throat and gave Din a look that meant that Din had forgotten some etiquette. She gestured between herself and Bo-Katan. “Oh, right. These are Satine and Bo-Katan Kryze. My two other ade.” The girls pulled their best courtly smiles, Bo-Katan’s only slightly forced looking. 

“It’s a pleasure to you both,” Satine greeted, “And your help is greatly appreciated. The whole situation has been…”

“Traumatizing?” Bo-Katan offered. Satine slapped her arm. “What?”

“Making sure this Sith is taken care of will be good for everyone’s mirjahaal- peace of mind,” Din said. He went to continue, but noticed Jango slowly walking towards their group. He seemed wary of the new Jetii- while Jango had gotten better about his Jetii hatred with the help of a mir’baar’ur. He was still uncertain of new Jetii, especially older ones that could have been at Galidraan. “Um, why don’t you ade show the Jetii to their rooms. I’ll meet you in the dining halls.” 

His ade agreed, and Din picked up Grogu to hand him off to Bo-Katan. Din said his goodbyes and went towards Jango. 

“Mand’alor,” Jango greeted, quickly pressing his fist to his chest. Din just sighed loudly. Jango grinned for a brief moment before his expression sobered. 

“Jango, I thought you were going to stay in Keldabe?” Jango had offered to keep things running with Silas. Din suspected it was less out of a desire to help and more out of some misplaced sense of guilt he’d developed about getting Din into this whole Mand’alor mess in the first place (Din held that it was his own decision, and fleeting moment of righteousness, that got him there in the first place.) 

“I was, but we got sensitive information that we felt was better relayed in person than over comms,” Jango explained. “Can we go somewhere private?”

“I have an office here,” Din said, beginning to lead the way inside. 

“You might want to call one of those Jetii, too,” Jango said grimly. “This is about the dar’jetii.”

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Next>

After an unexpectedly long break, I'm back! Turns out that between working, clinicals, and senior year I've been too busy to write much. So updates might be sporadic until next semester.

Mando'a translations:

beroya- bounty hunter

ori'ramikad- supercommandos (elite special forces)

Su'cuy- a greeting

mirjahaal- peace of mind, a general term for emotional well-being, especially after a trauma

mir'baar'ur- baar'ur for a healer, mir' as a prefix for mind/brain/mood, so a therapist

dar'jetti- sith

#din darjin #mand'alor din djarin #grogu #obi wan kenobi #time travel #star wars #satine kryze #bo katan kryze #quinlan vos #jango fett #qui gon jinn

[iwas-baby]

—𝔢𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢

i. a lifetime ago

includes: suna rintaro x f!reader

genre: vampire au, reincarnation au, drama

about: to many, immortality may be a blessing but for suna rintaro, it is a curse like no other. he can watch the world burn, knowing that the love he was felt is not eternal, or is it?

cw: death, mentions of illness, fire, unrequited love (not towards suna/reader), arranged marriage, angst

masterlist > next

1897

Suna Rintaro once believed that he was incapable of love. He’d been alive long enough to know that he lacked the warmth and endearment humans so easily showed. So many years had passed since he had been one, that he had completely forgotten what it was like to feel affection. He would nonetheless, watch them in his alienated tower, they’d laugh and drink and waste the few years of life they had to live. He often thought that they were foolish for devoting themselves to finding their over halves. That was, until a dying girl was at his front steps.

For the centuries he’d lived alone in the castle, he hardly had visitors as the horrid tales of what vile creature would be residing there put so much fear into the heart’s of the villagers that they stayed away. Not only that, but the tall towers, spiked metal gates and daring statues of both fallen angels and gargoyles were surely enough to drive away trespassers. Meaning, when there was a large pounding at the door and he caught sight of a young man carrying a young woman in his clutches, his curiosity was raised.

It was then that he learned who you were; a local villager who’d caught an unknown illness and was in urgent need of medicine. The man that brought you in was your fianceé, wearily explaining the rumors of the castle: it was believed a magic man lived there, granting certain powers to those who were worthy.

Rintaro was appalled by such a thing, but as he watched the way your fianceé regarded you, caressing your sickly, sunken face, he felt pity on the mortal, so infatuated he failed to understand that death was only a part of human life. You would die eventually, and so would he.

“Fine,” he sighed, watching your fianceé’s eyes widened, “I’ll cure her, but you must leave at once.” The other man thanked him, rushing out without a second thought.

The vampire stared down at your practically lifeless body, wondering to himself if he would actually help the human. He brought your limp body near a warm fire, drawing a blanket over your body. Rintaro sat in a nearby chair, reading a book from his personal library, waiting for you to perhaps wake up, or even to simply die.

Not much time passed after, and he heard you cough up a storm, weakly trying to sit up. “Where am I?” You asked disoriented, staring back at Rintaro so that his lingering gaze could truly see you.

With your eyes open, you were different. You were beautiful, it was undeniable to him. He basked in the sight of you, feeling himself inch closer. He slowly explained what he was going to do, that you were brought by your fianceé to look for a cure.

What surprised him was the way your face soured, laying back down and staring mindlessly at the ceiling. You calmly said to him: “please let me die before I have to marry him.”

“You wish to die?” He had never met a human like that before, one who was so adamant on expelling their own life. There was a saddened look on your face, evident in the way your eyebrows dipped to the center of your forehead.

“Yes, my father has planned for our marriage but I can not find it in myself to love him. A wife should love a husband, you understand, don’t you?” You reached out, grabbing Rintaro’s forearm for some form of comfort.

The minute you touched him, he felt warm, his skin was and always had been cold to the touch and he was almost at ease by the sensation. Your eyes were beginning to tear as you sniffled. Rintaro had never understood human emotion yet simply by observing you, he felt he’d unlocked all of mankind’s secrets.

“I suppose I do understand,” he stated, clearing his voice. “But surely that isn’t a reason to die– death is permanent.”

At his words, you realized he was right, you didn’t want to die, begging him to excuse your last words and to heal you. Rintaro weighed his options: would he turn you into a vampire? How would he explain that to you without having you run away and bring an angry mob of torches and pitchforks? Surely, he had other methods of soothing your illness but none that would cure you in comparison to a transformation.

“Eat this,” he ordered you everyday, handing you a special plant that would help you regain your strength. Just like that, you began to spend time together, keeping him company through the day, not questioning why his castle was so dark, or why the man never stepped foot outside during the day.

Suna Rintaro found you amusing in many ways. How you’d fall asleep so easily, and so regularly, even once tipping your head against his shoulder. Your cheeks would heat up at the smallest compliment and you’d begin to stumble over your words. He’d talk to you gently, and listen to you speak. He was intrigued on how long humans could go on rambling, but he didn’t have it in his cold heart to stop you. Everyday for a week you would venture the property, collecting flowers to put in his private library. You brightened the space he was in, and it was something he never knew he needed.

“The flowers would look better… elsewhere.” He wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings as he watched you pout, but he quickly demonstrated what he meant. Taking a single flower from the vase of water, he placed it behind your ear, carefully moving your hair aside to tuck it in. “Beautiful,” he said without a second thought, not missing the way you covered your face while looking away.

Those events were only the beginning of your love tale. Every day would be spent like that until, on the night marking your two month stay in Rintaro’s care, he finally kissed you. Rintaro could taste the honey in your mouth, holding your cheek as you wrapped your arms around him.

This, he thought, this is what humans want, they want to feel like this. He couldn’t find it in himself to let go of you, becoming addicted to your touch almost instantly. He imagined the warmth from your body to be second to only the sun.

“I believe I’ve fallen unconditionally in love with you,” you whispered softly into his ear, “I’ll leave my entire life behind if I could spend the rest of my aching days with you.”

Suna cupped his hands over yours, pressing your foreheads together, he didn’t know what to say, surely love had to be conditional; what would you do when you learned who he was, or what he’d done? He’d seen many things over his long, eternal life, and surely they were more gruesome and disturbing than you could ever imagine.

“I am not a perfect man,” he explained in a low voice. Laughing dryly he continued, “in fact, I’m hardly a man at all. Before you came, I hardly knew what love was.” It seemed hard for him to say, like he was questioning himself. Was what he was feeling really love? Staring into your sparkling eyes, he now knew your features like the back of his man and could map them out blindfolded. With each day that passed he found himself trying to become closer and closer to you, craving you like a starved wolf searching for food.

Carefully, as he continued to hold you near, he admitted what he was. He showed off his sharp teeth, and the dark glow to his eyes. He let you realize why his hands were so frigid and pulled the side of your head against his chest, hearing the sound of an empty chest with no working heart. He was the darkness small children feared, and the reason nuns held their rosaries so tightly. Yet, being near him was not horrifying, nor did you want to leave.

He had been tender with his touches and sincere with his words. There was no doubt that you had fallen in love with him and despite his attempt at pushing you away.

“It doesn’t change how I feel so please, tell me you love me, too. If you do not wish to return those emotions, I’ll leave, and I promise to keep your secret,” you replied softly. You wanted to kiss him again but there wasn’t time for that, nor was there time to hear him say those fateful four words. A booming sound rang through the practically empty castle, the sounds of loud calls filled your ears, staring up at Rintaro.

“Stay here,” he instructed, planting a lonesome kiss against your forehead, rushing towards the main entrance to see what was happening. Standing in front of the giant oak doors, he was shocked to see your fianceé standing with a torch in hand, a group of men from the village behind him.

Slowly lifting his finger he pointed towards the vampire, a disgusted look on his face as he snapped his head back to speak to the mob. “This is the monster that is holding my fianceé captive!”

Suna took a breath, watching as they grumbled, “you’re mistaken, I’ve been curing her by your orders,” he hissed. Your fianceé on the other hand, only shook his head.

“You’ve all heard the rumors of the vile thing that lives here, and behold; here he is!” His loud voice reverberated amongst the crowd, “he’s kept my future wife here against her will, and now we must do everything in our power to return her safely!”

“Liar! Your fianceé does not wish to marry you! It is not you that she loves!” Suna replied, not taking a minute to think. He hadn’t thought about what would happen if he angered the men even more than they already were, and instantly, he regretted it.

What happened next was a blur in his memory, with chaos ensuing so quickly that he could hardly retain the fine detail. What he did recall, was the way the men charged into the castle on their way to rescue you while Suna was left to fight them off, although clearly outnumbered.

He was left with your fianceé, staring him down with his unholy eyes, piercing into his soul and letting the human man see him for what he truly was. Charging forward, they had managed to end up far from the entrance, fighting each other until the sound of a breaking glass carried into Suna’s ears.

Pausing to look back, his castle, his home had erupted in flame, forced to watch as the villagers ran out, saying that they’d left you inside. Forgetting about your fianceé and his attacks, Rintaro darted back towards the fire.

And although vampires were sensitive to such strong heat, he braced himself, willing to die in order to save you. Shielding his face, he found you laying there, still as a statue and he knew he was too late.

Rintarto called out your name, with little response, he ignored the growing fire, kneeling by your side and scooping your head into his lap. It was a miracle that your eyes even opened in the slightest while you parted your lips as if to speak.

“Save yourself,” is what you said, and he shook his head vigorously.

“I’ve lived long enough, I’ll die here if I must.” For the first time since he too was human, he felt a wet teardrop whelming in his eye. He shamelessly let it roll down his cheek, watching the droplet fall onto your dying face.

Your breaths were shallow, from what he could see and it would only be a matter of time.

“You can’t leave, I’ve only just found you,” he said, as if his words alone could change the reality of the situation. He was always cold and merciless, but now he was no better than a simple human, grasping onto the idea of love as you weakly smiled at him.

“We won’t be apart long,” you stated, “I’ll find you again.” Your voice was tiny in comparison to the crackling and burning of the castle around you. Still, Rintaro was able to pick it up, leaning over and hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” he finally said, but you would never hear his response. Staring down, your body had slumped, although your face looked peaceful, as if you were just sleeping. Rintaro couldn’t stop himself from crying, letting out centuries of tears he thought were incapable of falling.

He held your dead figure, rocking himself as the heat increased and he had no other choice than to leave you.

Rintaro put one last kiss against your angelic lips, shutting his eyes before making a promise: “we will find each other again.”

taglist: @boosyboo9206 @rntrsuna @szna @chaotic-fangirl-blog @bisexualtragedy [open]

© all work belongs to iwas-baby on tumblr, please do not plagiarize, repost or translate anywhere

#eternal love series #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #suna angst #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x you #suna x reader angst #suna x reader smut #suna oneshot #suna hcs #suna scenarios #suna rintaro hcs #suna rintaro imagine #suna headcanons #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu scenarios #vampire au #suna rintaro #haikyuu suna rintarou #suna rintarou #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintarou angst #sunarin angst #haikyuu #haikyuu series #suna series

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus 

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub 

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor 

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

#you say athena mc is smart #i say athena mc is spy #because where better to use your smarts #in war #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

[merakiaes]

Captain Jealous - William Lennox

Pairing: William Lennox x reader

Requested: By @neemonroe​

Prompts: #20, #41, #42 from the smut-list. 

Warnings/notes: Takes place before Transformers. Not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes. Might be a little bit OOC but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please reblog and comment, it would make my day <3 

Wordcount: 3806

Summary: Flirting with Will only seems to result in annoyance, but when you finally turn your attention elsewhere, he’s not very pleased. 

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that, when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To most, you were one of the strongest and most admirable women they’d ever gotten the pleasure of meeting, but to others… well, let’s just say that you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

You were absolutely relentless when you put your mind to something and one of the many people who had fallen victim to that stubbornness was William Lennox.

Having enrolled in the army around the same time and being equally as good at what you did both back in training and in the field, the two of you had always respected each other and rather than being competitive, tried your best to lift each other up.

If one of you took control of a situation and started shouting out orders, the other didn’t question it, not even when Will eventually passed you in ranks. Because your minds worked in the exact same ways and so it didn’t really matter who gave the orders since the orders would be the same in the end, anyway, no matter whose lips they passed.

But you did differ in the way that Will much preferred to keep his personal life separated from his professional life, while you had a habit of letting them merge together, which inevitably resulted in you bringing the obvious attraction you felt for him with you out on the field.

Will was one of the people who thought you had taken your mother’s advice a bit too literally. That was what he told you on a daily basis as a response to your endless flirting, at least. But you knew better; you knew that he, at least to some extent, reciprocated your attractions, thanks to the few moments you had shared back in training.

“It was all fun and games back then”. He liked to say in that stern, military voice he had picked up the second he was promoted to Captain. “But this is the real deal. This is serious, and this, this thing you’re doing, is unprofessional.”

Ever the workaholic soldier, he was, at this point basically having dedicated his entire life to the job with no time to spare for fun. But no matter how hard he tried denying it, you knew that the two of you shared something, and so did every other member of your squad.

The only ones who seemed completely clueless to this were the newbies and as you gradually lost hope that your stubborn captain would ever admit and give in to his feelings, you found it to be a breath of fresh air to be able to spend time with people who weren’t constantly making suggestive remarks and fueling the attraction from your side.

One, in particular, caught your eye; tall, dark and handsome. He had yet to gain more muscle than the bare minimum and was, admittedly, kind of lanky. He was one year younger than you which was way too young seeing as you’d otherwise not even go for guys the same age as you, but he had banter and shared your flirty, dirty, cheeky sense of humor which, most definitely, made up for what he lacked in life-experience.

Will had smugly watched all of the newbies try to make a move on you only to be shot down quicker than your enemies, but then the last of the soldiers had swept up by your side, put a long, lean arm over your shoulders, and hit you with the cheesiest pick-up line he had ever heard. 

“How you doing, mama? You must be a parking ticket, ‘cuz you got fiiine written all over you.”

While Epps, Fig and the rest of the team broke out into laughter at the man’s poor technique, Will’s face transformed from smug to stone-cold murderer. 

Why? Because he knew that you didn’t want a man to tell you the stars reflected in your eyes or that you took their breath away with your beauty.

What you wanted was someone who could make you laugh, and when you threw your head back and joined in on the seemingly endless laughing fit, he was overtaken by a feeling so strong that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

And you noticed the change of demeanor immediately. The long, hard stares were only the tip of the iceberg, as was the way he would move closer to you and find a way to touch you as much as he possibly could without making it inappropriate or suspicious. 

The most extreme part of his change in behavior was how hard and strict he suddenly became with the rookie, who had quickly earned himself the reputation of your very own lapdog. 

He got scolded even for the most insignificant of mistakes, always got put on parade as the “example” in exercises in which he was usually thrown to the ground by Will himself and totally and completely humiliated.

Of course, those moments were just poor thinking on Will’s part seeing as you, besides being incredibly flirty and witty, also happened to be one of the most caring members of the team. 

Not only did he have to watch you laugh until your stomach hurt at the rookie’s bad jokes, but he also had to watch you comfort and reassure him after his one-on-one’s with the Captain.

And still, Will couldn’t stop himself from making the same mistake again and again, the consequences every time being that he was stuck watching you fuss over the younger soldier, because no matter how much it vexed him, he knew that you knew why he was acting the way he was. 

It was all a game to you and he played along because he wanted to keep showing you that he was the better option. Unluckily for the rookie, though, Will’s method of showing dominance was through physical contact.

You knew what Will was doing, how he was trying to punish the rookie, mildly and legally, of course, while simultaneously trying to show you that he was displeased with what was going on; that he wanted it to stop.

To a start, you only showed interest in the rookie to fuck with Will, but you quickly realized that he was actually a fun guy to hang around.

You enjoyed spending time with him. Not a second with him went without laughter and it was nice to be able to have fun like that for a change, and soon enough, you’d more or less forgotten about the silent war between the two of you.

You probably knew that it wasn’t a real interest, judging by the way you didn’t even care enough to remember his name, but it was fun to have another banter-buddy.

You’d had an identical friendship with Epps since the start, but two people could only keep the creativity up for so long; after a while, you just couldn’t come up with witty remarks and sarcastic jokes, anymore.

Up until then, Will had still kept his disapproval about the whole thing lowkey, because as long as you were only doing what you were doing to make him jealous, you were still interested. 

But when you started making moves on the rookie with genuine interest, without looking over at Will while doing it, it was no longer a game. 

While already on the topic of games, you were completely useless when it came to cards. It didn’t matter what game you played; you’d always end up as the loser. And although you enjoyed the banter that followed the teasing of your poor card-playing abilities, your patience wasn’t endless.

“Alright, I’m calling it.” You chuckled after losing the fifth game of the evening, dropping your thick deck of cards onto the table in front of you.

“Really? But it was going so good for you.” Epps wasted no time in firing back with feign-surprise, to which all you did was deliver a sharp slap to his head.

The table broke out into laughter. “You had that coming.” Fig shook his head, successfully starting a metaphorical war. 

You chuckled at their antics and pushed back your chair, getting to your feet and stretching your arms above your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You said, and wasted no time in starting to collect your things.

The rookie’s attention was instantly piqued, and so was Will’s, who had been playing in silence nearly the entire time you’d been there.

“You know, I need to shower, too.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. “So, I should probably join you. You know, save water. Provide some extra heat.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raised a playful eyebrow and chuckled. “Tempting offer, but I’ll have to take a raincheck on that. Glad to know I have options, though. Maybe next time.”

Without waiting for his reply, you snatched your jacket from a nearby stool and playfully flicked his forehead, before turning around and walking away, completely oblivious of the pairs of eyes that kept watching you from the table you had just left.

You went about your shower routine like you always did; get undressed, wash hair, wash body, turn off the water in-between washes, get dried and get dressed again. Sharing the water with so many people could be hard, so you couldn’t really take the long, thoughtful showers you did when at home.

You were out again as quickly as you had gotten in and took your time getting lotioned and dressed, getting as much self-care into your night as you possibly could when at a military base.

“What are you doing with the new kid?”

You should’ve been significantly more aware of your surroundings as a soldier but in your defense, everyone dropped their guard to some extent when in a safe environment, so the scream that came out of your mouth at the sudden sound of a voice was completely justified.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore as you jumped around, hastily reaching for your damp towel to cover your bare chest.

Coming face to face with a furious-looking Will, you glared. “Knock much?”

He didn’t look amused in the slightest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Knock, knock. Answer my question.”

Your mouth snapped shut at the dominance behind his voice and your eyes instinctively flickered to his biceps, veins and muscle more defined than ever in the way he had positioned his arms.

You were, however, proud to say that you were quick to come back to your senses, your eyes snapping back to meet his.

“Do you, maybe, oh, I don’t know, want to turn around?” You asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.

If you wanted him to turn around to gain privacy for yourself or simply because you couldn’t stop glancing at his bulging biceps, you didn’t know, but no matter the reason behind your wish, he didn’t move an inch.

“Answer the question.” Was all that he said, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m just having a bit of fun.”

“Do you like him?” His questions kept shooting out as quickly as bullets and, again, you couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes.

“He’s fun to be around.” You said simply, giving him a slightly annoyed glare before turning around and dropping the towel to continue getting dressed.

Will didn’t even try to cover the fact that he was checking you out, eyes shamelessly traveling your form and taking his sweet time to remember all the details his eyes could reach. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time one of you saw the other only partly clothed – you know, it was kind of inevitable for all of you to catch a glimpse of each other’s birthday suits once every blue moon - so once the shock of his sudden appearance had melted off, the nervousness followed.

“But do you like-like him?”

At the sound of that question in particular, you couldn’t help but snort.

“What is this? Third grade?” You threw him an amused look over your shoulder. “Say that I do like-like him, do you think I should ask Epps if he can give him a note asking him to check yes or no on whether or not he’d like to be my boyfriend?” You gave him a sarcastic pout.

At this point, Will was completely fed up with your inability to take anything seriously and spun you around by your arm. 

Luckily, you had just finished hooking your bra behind your back, said bra thankfully covering your chest from his view.

“Can you not make a joke about everything?” He asked, your wrist firmly held in his hand. “You have to realize how bad this looks to our superiors. First me, and now him. You can’t go around flirting with everyone. It makes you look unprofessional and uncommitted and that, in turn, makes it look like I can’t do my job.”  

“Is that really what’s got your big-soldier-boy panties in a twist, though?” You narrowed your eyes challengingly, and slowly fought your wrist out of his grip to, instead, grab a hold of his hand.

Further proving your point, he did nothing to protest, the glare remaining in his eyes, but the rest of his face being overtaken by exasperation.

“I just don’t get it.” He said. “You spend all this time pushing my buttons, being completely insufferable with your never-ending flirting, and now you’re suddenly interested in someone else?”

“I think the real question here is why you’re suddenly interested when I’ve spent so much time trying to get your attention to no avail and now, what? You suddenly want me because I might be interested in someone else?” You raised an eyebrow, and couldn’t deny the flash of heat going through your body when he lowly growled.

“I’ve never not wanted you.” He objected. “And you’re not interested in the rookie.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know you.”

“So what you’re saying is, basically, that you can’t be with me, but I also can’t be interested in anyone else.”

“We both know that relationships in this work are highly frowned upon and-“

“Highly frowned upon, but not forbidden. You’ve still had the option to choose, and you actively chose not to act on it. Just making that clear.”

“I haven’t acted on it because it’s wrong.”

“If it’s so wrong…” You started, a sharp shiver going down your spine as your bare back hit the cold, wet tiles. “Then why did you just corner me in the shower?”

During that short minute of back-and-forth arguing, he had done just that, the two of you now standing chest against chest in the darkest corner of the room.

Your face was pulled into a determined glare, as was his, and the tension and intensity behind your shared stare was enough to have all of the previously discussed issues forgotten in less than a microsecond.  

The proximity between you in combination with the fact that you were at an obvious disadvantage in height and size made you feel both hot and cold at the same time. You felt like prey under his stare. You found yourself liking it all the while you were hating the feeling of being so powerless, and your inner conflict only added to the tension.

“You have no idea how much willpower it’s taken me to keep resisting you, to keep turning you down.” He spoke slowly, and lowly. “Each of my thoughts about you are improper and you put all of those thoughts into my head every day, pulling my strings, pushing my buttons, just walking around being… you.”

In one smooth motion, he intertwined his fingers with yours, and your eyes automatically flickered down to watch your now joined-together digits; rough and calloused meeting even rougher and more calloused.

“I like you. I care about you. More than I should.” He continued, prompting you to look back up with an eyebrow raised.

“And?” 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, exasperated and impatient. “Do you want me to say that I want to be with you? Because I do. I. Want. To. Be. With. You.”

You snickered at his over-dramatic emphasizing, finding it nothing short of amusing that he’d been protesting and telling you how wrong it was only seconds before, and now he was more or less proclaiming his love for you. That, more than anything, just showed how stubborn he was.

“Took you long enough.” You mused, leaning your head back into the wall and smirking, all while looking him straight in the eye. “It’s just too bad that I’ve grown so fond of the rookie. You know, he’s quite-“

Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by Will’s lips crashing into yours, roughly and urgently. In the process, you were pushed even further into the wall behind you, and as the sudden force threw you off balance, you instinctively reacted by moving your arms up to his neck to hold yourself in place.

In return, his hands moved to each side of your waist, big, warm hands squeezing down on the flesh that had long ago turned cold from being bare in the nippy air for so long.

You had always imagined what it would feel like to be touched by him like this, but not even your wildest imagination could compare to the intensity of the tingles that spread through your stomach and chest.

Your hands slowly sneaked up the back of his neck, your body reacting automatically, but just as you were about to tousle your fingers in his hair, the moment ended when he pulled away.

Both of you were left panting in silence, the only sounds available for your ears to hear being your ragged breaths and the rhythmic dripping of the shower beside you.

“Wow, Captain.” You were the first one to speak. “I knew you were hot for me, but try to keep it in your pants. That was hardly professional.”

Just like that, your sarcastic persona returned as if it had never left in the first place, your eyes opening after having been closed up until then and meeting his with a playful grin.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m pretty sure you threw professional straight out the window the first time we met.” He pointed out and much to your dismay, stepped back. “Are you going to stop encouraging the rookie, now?”

Getting straight to the point, okay.

“I don’t know…” You shrugged casually, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect your nails and peeking up at him through your lashes with a devilish smirk. “Jealousy looks kinda good on you.”

“I’m not jealous!” He exclaimed quickly, and you immediately raised an eyebrow as a way to say ‘really?’

“I’m not jealous.” He repeated, this time in a lower, calmer tone. “It’s just, you’re mine.”

Those two words alone were enough to make you inwardly groan, like one would when eating that first scoop of ice cream after not having been able to eat any in a week. Or a day.

But in a brave attempt to not make a fool of yourself, you remained in your teasing element, raising your eyebrows and hitting him back with a feign-uncaring: “Is that so?”

To that, he stepped closer to you once again, brought his hands up to cradle your cheeks, and playfully glared.

“Stop flirting with the rookie.” He repeated.

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“I’m asking politely.” He lied.

“Hmmm….” You hummed, pretending to think only for a moment, before flashing him a shit-eating grin. “No. I’m having way too much fun watching you squirm.”

Still leaning against the wall, you carefully pushed yourself up, pushed your chest against his and watched in success as his eyes flickered down.

Taking your sweet time, you brought your hands up to his chest with agonizingly slow movements and leaned your head up to his.

His breath shook as you brushed your lips over his and whispered against them lowly. 

“You’re hot when you’re mad.”

Will pushed his head forward with obvious intentions, but before he could press his lips against yours, you slid out of the tight corner, resulting in him having to catch himself on the wall left behind.

With a proud smile, you walked over to the bench by which you had previously been working on getting dressed and snatched your shirt where it laid.

“You’ll drive me crazy before all this is over, you know that?” Will spoke from behind you, which only made your smile widen.

Quickly pulling on your shirt and collecting the rest of your things, you turned around and walked back up to him where he still stood in the shower.

“That’s always been the plan.” You replied simply, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before once again turning around and walking away, this time leaving him completely alone in the room.

He had to take a few moments to collect himself and regain his composure, and by the time he walked back out, you were nowhere in sight. 

With only you on his mind, he headed back to the table where the rest of the team were still playing cards, and sat down in the chair he had occupied before leaving.

“So, now that it’s just us here, I could use some advice on-“ The rookie wasted no time, but didn’t get to finish.

“You couldn’t handle her even if she came with instructions, kid.” Will interrupted without even looking at him, reading his mind without struggle since the person of his interest was one they had in common.

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To some, this was an admirable quality while, to others, you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

When it came to Will? Well, he just had nothing bad to say about you. You might’ve gotten on his nerves ninety-nine percent of the time, and been completely and utterly insufferable, but God did he love it.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be tagged in any future Will Lennox fics!

#will lennox #will lennox x reader #will lennox imagine #lennox #lennox x reader #lennox imagine #captain lennox #captain lennox x reader #captain lennox imagine #transformers #transformers imagine #transformers x reader #william lennox #william lennox x reader #william lennox imagine #josh duhamel #josh duhamel x reader #sam witwicky #optimus prime #ironhide #bumblebee

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Same Auld Lang Syne

John Wick x Reader (A/n- lmao wrote this when I should have been studying. Inspired by an angsty Christmas song that I've always loved Same Auld Lang Syne by Dan Fogelberg

Masterlist

Warnings- Angst

It couldn't have been her, or maybe it was just the fact that it had been a good ten years since they’d last been in the same room. Maybe zip code too, he’d heard that she’d moved. She was just standing there, near the frozen foods section, comparing the back labels of two different brands of butter, she’d always been like that, determined to ensure that she was always making the best possible purchase. For a moment, John contemplated just letting her be, let her go so they wouldn’t have to dredge up bittersweet memories that they’d both tried burying in the past, but when he turned to walk away, it was like his feet wouldn’t take him in the opposite direction and eventually, John succumbed, turning to go say ‘hi’. It was just ‘hi’, maybe they’d catch up a bit and move on, he could manage that. Right?

Just as he’d approached her, John inhaled deeply and when Y/n didn’t seem to notice, he reached out to touch her upper arm. Touching her used to second nature, that day it just felt like he was getting into her space, “Y/n?” He probed, just as his fingers brushed the sleeve of her thick coat.

“Huh?” She spun to face him, only confused for a minute but quickly going bright with recognition afterwards, “John,” she breathed with an awed smile, “Oh my God, hey,” without thinking, they both reached out for a hug.

That, that felt the same. She didn’t feel the same, but the warmth of their embrace, the feeling it roused inside, was the same. Y/n was safe; she was his home. Or at least, she used to be.”Hi,” he smiled when they parted, “It’s been so long.”

“It has,” she grinned, seemingly still in shock that they were standing face to face, after all this time, “What has it been? Seven, eight years?”

“Ten,” he corrected. Ten years, six months and a handful of days since he’d last seen those eyes and heard her voice, her laugh. The laugh he’d fallen in love with so long ago. After he’d seen her that last time, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her again, a friend of a friend had mentioned that she was taking an out of state job and instead of going to her and asking for a second chance, like he’d planned to, John had let her go. He’d let the best person in his life walk out of it.

“Right,” Y/n’s fond smile persisted, "Well, the time certainly hasn't changed you, you look great."

Quickly he licked his lips, nodding in thanks, "You do too," he huffed nervously, "You look..." As beautiful as the day they met, and as the day she left him, "Amazing."

"Thanks," she chortled softly, blushing, and after a moment, a stretch of awkward silence befell them. “Uh, I should take these to check out,” she glanced over her shoulder at the half filled shopping cart, “The line was really long when I got in,” an expected fact, considering it was Christmas Eve and the supermarket was bound to be packed with last minute shoppers. “But we should grab coffee or something, catch up a bit. If you want to, of course,” she added the last bit hastily.

He’d really only meant to say a quick ‘hello’ let her know that he’d seen her, but with the offer put out there, coupled with that hopeful look in her gorgeous eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. Besides, the alternative to coffee with the one that got away was going home to an empty house. An empty house that they used to share. “Sure,” John obliged, “I’ll walk with you to check out?” It was more of a question for permission than a statement.

“Great,” She beamed, and Y/n grasped the handlebars, starting to push it down the aisle as John fell into step with her. The whole place was crowded, so by default, they were caught in a slow pace as they navigated through the throng.

All in all, it had taken just over thirty minutes to get their items checked out, bagged and then packed into their respective cars. There was a coffee shop near the store, though, presumably because it was past noon on Christmas Eve, the place was already closed. After walking up to the other end of the compound though, they discovered a small restaurant. They didn’t serve coffee, but there was a bar that was serving mulled wine in commemoration of the season, and with a couple glasses between them, they claimed a booth near the back.

“It’s been so long,” Y/n chuckled after an initial sip, “How have you been?”

In a moment of vulnerability, or probably the desire to fix something that was long behind them, John contemplated telling her the truth. And the truth was that he’d been good, but not half as good as he’d been when they were together; he was a little lonely most times, and sometimes, he’d wondered if he should pick up the phone and try to get her number from the operator. But he didn’t, John couldn’t embarrass them both like that, and instead he fudged the truth, just a little, “I’ve been good,” he covered his faltering expression with a sip from the cup, “Retired now, so I’m just...restoring books whenever there’s the opportunity.”

“You’re retired?” Her eyes went wide and a surprised gasp seeped off her lips. A long time ago, that had been one of their many problems, Y/n had never liked his work, not completely because of what it did to people, but because of what it could do to him. “That’s great,” she quipped tightly, “Must’ve had a good reason,” she added softly, and he couldn’t tell if there was a bitterness there, but seemed like it.

“I….” She was the reason, John had gotten out hoping it would bring her back, but it hadn’t, it was just a thing that he’d done for someone that would never know how much they really meant to him. “I used to,” he admitted, and glancing at one of her hands on the table, toying with the handle of her glass mug, John reached out for it without thinking too much. He didn’t keep it there for long though, just long enough for him to meet her eyes as he repeated, “I used to have a great reason. The best one.”

“John,” Y/n sighed, licking her lips, and she looked like she was at a loss for words. It wasn’t necessarily the reaction he was expecting, then again, John didn’t know what he should have expected to begin with.

“What about you?” He began once more, pulling his hand away from hers, “I’d heard that you moved.”

Y/n nodded, visibly pushing past her earlier thoughts with an audible breath. “I did,” she perked up, “For work…..” When she hesitated. John didn’t quite understand why, though, her next revelation cleared it all up, and drove a knife through his heart, “I met my husband there.”

John couldn’t tell if the sky was falling in on him or if the floor beneath his feet had given out, but something had happened and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. Of every wound he’d ever acquired, every broken bone he’d ever survived, the pain of his heart breaking right there, as he sat in that chair across from Y/n, was worse than anything he’d ever felt. "Husband?” He croaked.

“Yeah,” Y/n smiled again, but that time it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “My husband. His veterinary clinic was right across the street from my office, we got coffee at the same place every day, and the rest is just…..” She shrugged indifferently.

“That’s…..” He drew in a large gulp of his wine, trying to wash the bitter feelings down, “That’s um……” Nice? He couldn’t say it was nice. It didn’t feel nice. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

That time, he was certain that her face fell. Y/n had always been exceptional at hiding her feelings, but John used to be -he still was- one of the few people that could tell what she was really feeling. “Yeah,” her voice shook, “He’s so sweet and....he’s probably the nicest guy I’ve ever met,” upon noticing the way her words could have been perceived, Y/n reached out hastily, grabbing his hand in an affectionate grip, “I don’t mean it like that. It's just, Paul is the nicest guy anyone’s met.”

Nodding in understanding, John noted how her gentle grip didn’t waver, and he couldn’t seem to control the next words that just tumbled past his lips, “Do you think about us?”

She was genuinely stunned for a solid minute, “John,” Y/n stuttered, “I uh…”

“I’m sorry,” just as quickly as he’d asked, John wished he could take it back. That wasn’t okay, she was married, and they’d been finished for so long that most times, he must have been a distant memory to her.

“No, no,” her hand was still holding his, and John felt oddly reassured by the prolonged gesture, “Its okay,” she shrugged, “I just…...I do, sometimes. I think about all that stuff we talked about.” The happily ever after they always fancied but never had.

Licking his lips, John glanced down at the red hued beverage, a decorative slice of orange floating at the top. Most times, when he thought about how things had ended between them, and his role in it, John was plagued with inconsolable guilt, and that afternoon was no different. “I should have been better,” he reached for his glass with his free hand, turning it at the base with his thumb and pointer, eyes still trained downwards, “You deserved better,” she had better now.

“We both should have been better,” she countered sympathetically, “I should been more patient, you were doing your best-”

“Not with you,” it was true, he’d always assumed that she’d just be there. That Y/n would just wait for him, the way she always had. “And you were the only person that deserved it.”

Pressing her lips together, Y/n let her eyes slipped closed for a moment, though, when she reopened then, John noted the glassy sheen there, “Don’t do this, John” she caressed the base of his thumb with the soft pad of hers, “It was a long time ago.”

But if he’d been different then, they wouldn’t be there right now, like that. She would have stayed, they'd have been together. “Yeah,” he sighed heavily, pulling his hand away and bringing the glass to his lips once again, “You’re right,” she was right, and she’d moved on, “Long time ago,” he dismissed, finishing his drink, only for Y/n to do the same soon after.

Things had seemed to go back to awkward afterwards, and a thick tension weighed down the silence. Neither of them knew what to say, and suddenly, Y/n was a stranger to him. It had crept up on him, but once the thought was there, John couldn’t seem to shake it; he and Y/n were strangers to each other. Strangers who used to be so in love that it was hard to even fathom that they ever fall out of it. Strangers who used to know everything about each other, though by then, John didn’t even know her last name. Y/n was a stranger; a changed woman who had the memories of the person he loved, and he suspected that he was the same to her. Except, John would have liked to think that he hadn’t changed, not really, there had never been a reason to after she’d left.

“I should go,” softly, Y/n eventually broke the silence, “Paul and my parents are probably waiting for me,” Y/n added, reaching for her purse to leave money for her drink, only for John to tell her that he’d cover it. “I’ll see you around John,” stopping briefly when she reached his side of the booth, Y/n bent slightly to kiss the side of his lips and John reciprocated, his fingers brushing her arm, feeling her warmth permeate through the layers Y/n was bundled up in.

“I’ll see you around Y/n,” he returned, wishing he didn’t have to let go. It wasn’t long after that did he see her make her way outside, holding her coat closed at the front, head down as she walked briskly up the sidewalk. She looked a little upset, he thought, and just as Y/n disappeared from view, John’s shoulders slumped, feeling a renewed ache as the woman he’d spent the past ten years thinking about walk out of his life, again.

*****

*Current permanent taglist is a mess, message, comment or send an ask if you'd like to be tagged in any of my future works.

#keanu reeves #john wick #john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick fanfic #keanu reeves fanfic #fanfic #angst #keanu reeves x you #john wick x you

[alaskasmonsters]

Gentle Hands | Shigaraki Tomura

with a quirk like shigaraki’s, physical touch had never been something another person had trusted him with. the fear of what he could do proved to be too great to get close enough. everyone was scared to touch him...everyone but you.

part two 

pairing: shigaraki tomura x gn!reader

w.c: 3. 223

warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, descriptions of injuries, shigs is touch-starved :c

a.n: this took me way too long to turn out like this...i seriously don’t know what happened along the way but this was meant to go an entirely different direction...idek.

Shigaraki’s room was enveloped in darkness. The only source of light coming from where you had carefully cracked the door open after several unanswered knocks. It barely illuminated the small space inside, only revealing the silhouettes and rough placement of the furniture.

You’d never been inside of Shigaraki’s room before. There had never been a reason.

As the league’s personal medical support (or nurse, something Dabi liked to refer you to) you’d mostly only talked to any of them if there was an emergency that required your help. Then they’d meet you in the “living room” (you hesitated using homey words like that in connection to the hovel the members of the league had resided in the last few months).

Not that you didn’t get along with them, but you couldn’t really say you were particularly close with any of them. Criminals liked to keep their distance. Distance meant safety, it was the first rule in the handbook basically. Shigaraki was no different. He was the most mysterious of them you’d say, even more distanced with you it seemed. Saying there was no reason to grow attached to a NPC, like you were a dog that would be returned to their rightful owner soon anyway.

It didn’t bother you much. You knew the man needed his personal space, he had his reasons to be suspicious of new people, to be hesitant to let anyone too close...they all had.

That’s the price they paid in a life like that, or maybe they had already been like this before they ever became villains.

Entering Shigaraki’s room now and without permission was probably the closest you’ve ever come to being disintegrated, you thought as you carefully peeked inside. The guilt from intruding already crawled up your stomach. You wouldn’t normally do this, but you were worried after Kurogiri had told you about an “incident” this morning.

It had left Shigaraki badly injured and hiding himself in the darkness of his own four walls, since they had returned. Kurogiri hadn’t told you any details, but you could tell whatever happened had been bad, judging by his concerned tone when he’d requested you to look after the man. He asked you to heal him even if he were to refuse and you had agreed immediately, although you doubted you’d get close enough to Shigaraki if he didn’t want it.

The darkness was thick before your eyes, you could hardly tell the difference between the bed and the rest of the room. Not even the tv’s light was burning...you had expected Shigaraki to play a game if he really were as frustrated as Kurogiri had made it sound like.

The only reason you spotted a glimpse of where the man was located was due to the way the light reflected off the white strands of his hair. He was on the ground behind his bed.

“Shigaraki?” you called his name softly, not sure if he’d already noticed you or if maybe he’d fallen asleep.

You got no answer.

“Kurogiri sent me. Can I come in?”

You waited a minute, probably longer, but when there was still no answer you let out a heavy sigh.

“I’ll take that as a “I don’t mind either way”.”

You squeezed through the small space between the frame and the door, not daring to expose the man to more of the light he seemed to be so sensitive to. At least you guessed that that was the reason he was sitting in the darkness. Maybe he was just feeling emo, Shigaraki seemed the type.

You closed the door behind you, plunging the room into darkness again. This turned out to be a bad idea, since now you were both without sight and you had to slowly and carefully approach where you remembered the bed to be. You could only speak of luck you hadn’t bumped into anything before you made contact with the bedframe, using it to navigate closer to where you suspected Shigaraki to cower at, sliding down to sit on the ground as well.

You sat in silence for a while, making sure he didn’t want you to leave after all, but Shigaraki stayed quiet, the only sign he was still next to you was the sound of his ragged breathing.

You debated what would be the best approach. Should you scoot closer? Maybe you should start with telling him Kurogiri had sent you? Or maybe you could let the two of you stay in silence for a little while?

Approaching Shigaraki when he was in a vulnerable state was similar to a wild animal that had been injured. You had to be careful about it.

“You hurt your hands,” the words slipped your mouth.

Not careful enough.

Had you seriously gone with the worst approach you could have possibly chosen? Good job, Y/n!

Shigaraki didn’t curse you out so you guessed it was fine after all. Maybe his hands were off worse than you had initially thought...

“I want to fix them, if that’s alright but i’d need a little bit of light to do so,” you explained, keeping your voice quiet and calm.

There wasn’t an answer for several minutes. You started to grow restless, thinking that maybe you had overstepped a line, maybe it was better if you left again…

Before you could though you heard a grumbling agreement, barely audible, much closer than you had expected. A second later a dim light illuminated the small room.

You had to close your eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness before you could finally look at Shigaraki, who was sitting a few feet away from you, his back leaned against the matratze of his bed.

He looked miserable, his face was lowered so he couldn’t meet your eyes and his features were hidden by the messy white locks.

But what shocked you most was his hands. He had spread his fingers, palms up, on his lap so you saw the actual damage that the attacker had done.

His palms were blood-smeared, cut open, some cuts running so deep you thought you could see parts of the bone peaking out from between the damaged skin.

You felt bile rise up your throat at the view.

It looked painful, cruel. As if someone had tried to ruin his hands in the most painful way possible.

You inched closer, eyes trained on the damage.

Shigaraki tensed up as you scooted closer and you stopped immediately, looking up into his face, making sure you didn’t overstep again.

He was still avoidant of your eyes, shrunken in on himself with his shoulders hunched. He looked like a scared child to you...

“May I?” you asked him, desperately hoping he’d say yes.

His eyes only flickered between you and his hands once before he gave a soft nod.

You carefully reached out to grab the backside of his hands, meaning to pull them closer for you to inspect. The way Shugaraki froze at your touch made you pause and you realized with dread that you had forgotten to ask if it was okay to touch him. He must be in pain, of course he was.

You quickly removed your hands again, giving him a concerned look.

“I’m sorry Shigaraki-kun, did i hurt you?”

He frowned at your question, eyes quickly jumping between your expression and your hands just inches beneath his, waiting to reach out again if he’d allowed it.

He seemed conflicted for a second, but then he shook his head.

You chose not to question it, only giving a soft nod in response before reaching out again. This time you gently wrapped your fingers around his wrists instead, drawing his hands closer so you could inspect them better.

The light was still too dim to see the most gruesome parts of the injury, but even without it you could easily get an idea of what had occured.

The wounds were too deep, the blood that came out of the slashes in a dark flow...this wasn’t caused by a normal knife. Rather by another person’s quirk, one related to mutilation because how else would you describe the cruelty of the wounds inflicted.

It probably made it impossible to heal by itself, too.

Whoever did this had wanted to make Shigaraki’s quirk absolutely useless, damaging his hands beyond repair in the most cruel way.

And while you did know he’d caused a lot of pain with those hands, the idea someone had tried to mutilate them made you sick to your stomach.

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down as you leaned down to hover just above Shigaraki’s hands.

Thankfully the league of villains had you and your quirk, seeing as you could heal almost everything, as long as the wound was still fresh and cells weren’t too damaged to manipulate.

Dabi had been the one to introduce you since he’d found you years before when you first started helping him with his unfit quirk. You weren’t a villain, only by association, but you’d always had a soft spot for difficult cases. You hadn’t been able to heal his scars then, since the cells were already dead and the injuries were old and your quirk wouldn’t let you revive anything. But you’d suggested to take care of all the newer wounds

Now you were working with the league of villains or maybe helped out was a better way to phrase it, considering the only method of payment you’d receive was fast food.

You focused your attention on Shigaraki’s injuries, leaning even closer to be able to see everything up close. It was necessary to use your quirk appropriately.

“Ready?” you asked, eyes searching for Shigaraki.

They were wide and attentive. He looked nervous if you had to guess, although he would have denied it if you had asked.

He gave you a nod and you smiled at him, giving his wrists a reassuring squeeze. You decided to ignore the way his eyebrows knit together at the gesture. You imagined he didn’t like touch very much.

You shift your attention to his left palm first, removing your hand from where they had gripped the man’s wrist to let it hover over the injured skin. The tell-tale sign of buzzing spread through your skin as you focused all your senses on the damage you’d been inspecting.

The sight of the cuts running oh so deep, the smell of iron stinging your nose, the feeling of broken and ruined skin and bones and muscles.

A green light, slowly growing brighter and bigger, more intense in color too formed and enveloped your hand. Your fingers inching closer and closer to the bloodied and ripped skin. Just right before your hand would touch his you stopped, the light now extending until it was enveloping his hand as well.

Shigaraki’s fingers twitched, his wrist tensed under your touch. You pressed down on the juncture to reassure him you’d hurry up.

You watched his skin pulling bac, his hands shaking a little when you concentrated on repairing the muscles that have been torn apart before.

It was a slow process, you knew that. You were known for officiency not speed, after all. And you were aware it hurt, probably just as terrible as when the blade had ripped through his skin in the first place. Regenerating injuries like this would usually take weeks and months, a dozen operations and it still would never go back to the way it once was. Doing it your way, basically forcing the cells to regenerate, speeding up the natural process and enhancing it...it took energy from both you and him.

His breathing was ragged, his arm was shaking in your grip, more intense than before and you hated it, hated knowing he was hurting and you couldn’t do anything to make the process go smoother for him, make it hurt any less.

All you could think of was running your thumb over the inside of his wrists, trying to reassure him like that. Trying to signal him that it would be over soon.

You didn’t know if it helped but you certainly felt his body freeze up for a moment. Maybe that was just because of the procedure though.

You watched the skin grow over again, slowly, and leave behind a slightly bloodied but smooth skinned palm. Shigaraki sank back into his seat, letting out a small huff as the pain stopped.

You took the time to inspect his palm, letting your fingers glide over the smooth skin and noting how it all seemed to be back to how they were originally with joy.

“Does your left hand feel okay? Flex your fingers a little.”

When he stayed still you looked up, Shigaraki’s gaze already focused on your face. There was something unreadable in the way he looked at you. He almost looked confused.

You bit your lip, glancing between his hands and his face as dread slowly rose in your stomach.

“You can flex your fingers...right?” you asked nervously.

What if you made a mistake? What if you messed up with his muscles?

Shigaraki’s finger twitched, before he bent them. Spreading them apart before creating a fist. You quickly pulled your hand away to leave him the room to move around a little, returning to tap his skin once more when you saw he was done.

“You feel that?” you asked, less nervous now that you knew that he could still move it.

The only answer you got was a grunt but that’s all you needed.

You moved on to his right hand then. Clasping his wrist with one hand to stabilize him and raising your other just above his palm. You repeated the procedure once more, green light enveloping both your hands as your face was set into a deep frown of concentration.

You stroked his wrist with your thumb once more as soon as you felt Shigaraki tense up again.

He was trembling even harder this time and you couldn’t tell if it was only because he was already exhausted or because this hand had been through more damage.

All you could feel was that the level of damage must be similar, the time it took you to fix the connections of the muscles felt about the same. Then his skin grew over slowly.

You repeated your check up, smoothing your fingers over the skin of his palm and telling him to flex his fingers. He reacted quicker this time, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times.

You gave his wrist a last squeeze before you let go, satisfied and happy you’d done a good job. Of course you wouldn’t know for sure until a few days later when Shigaraki was able to tell you if his hands were giving him any problems. But for now Shigaraki looked a lot better.

His pale face had filled with a little bit of color again, although his eyes were weirdly unfocused as he lowered his head to inspect his hands. You watched him in confusion, as he flexed his fingers again. Wasn’t he sure if you’ve done a good job? Did he feel pain?

“Is everything alright? Wait, lemme see again.”

You leaned forward, softly gripping his hands to pull them closer to inspect once more. Shigaraki froze up at the contact again and you frowned when you saw that the skin was all smooth and fixed, giving no reason for the man to act so tensed up.

You searched his eyes, only finding him already staring at you with an undefinable look in his eyes. You were just about to open your mouth to ask him about it. Not necessarily why he was acting so weirdly, but more specifically what haunted him.

Before you could do that, he surprised you with pulling his hands back before opening his palms which were facing upwards.

You watched in confusion.

He stretched his fingers, raising his hand upwards. The motion made you cock your head to the side. He was looking at you with narrowed eyes, clearly expecting something from you. Thinking you knew what he tried to ask of you you placed your hand on top of his, noticing him spreading his thumb apart to not touch you with all five of his fingers.

Shigaraki searched your face for a reaction but you didn’t know what kind of reaction that was supposed to be.

“I knew you were kinda crazy but that’s another level.”

“Excuse me?” you gaped at him.

“Only a crazy person wouldn’t be afraid to touch me.”

Gears started turning in your head and your cheeks heated up at the realization that that had been the reason why he’d frozen up. He wasn’t used to touch. He had been probably overwhelmed having your hands all over him.

“Oh...I guess I trust you wouldn’t disintegrate my hands.”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I’m useful aren’t i? Maybe I'd be more worried about a foot or knee cap but I kinda need my hands for the healing.”

He hummed in agreement, seemingly satisfied knowing you weren’t a total moron.

Although to be quite honest you weren’t so sure if you’d flinch from his touch even if it was directed towards your face. You didn’t know if you had it in you to mistrust him. When it had come to this point you didn’t know, somewhere along the way you had just stopped questioning your growing positive feelings towards the leader of the league of villains (and the other members as well).

Sometimes you liked to think both of you had mutual respect for each other. Enough to not randomly disintegrate the other person, that was.

“I’m sorry i made you uncomfortable, though. I should have asked beforehand.”

He snorted, fingers flexing under your grip, bending to run them over the palms of your hand.

“I don’t mind,” he muttered.

You didn’t think it was all he had wanted to say, but whatever else tried to leave his mouth was held back by Shigaraki biting his lip. You didn’t question it.

The man continued exploring your skin and you  spread your fingers a little wider to give him more access. It was fascinating to you, how curiously he was exploring your skin, like a small child eager to experience new sensations. He had cocked his head to the side, eyeing you from beneath his hair, calculating, waiting.

He reached for your hand and you let him. Let him grip and turn it, until he could easily intertwine his fingers with yours, hesitant and careful to touch you, mindful to spread his pinky to not touch your skin.

You felt your cheeks heat up at the gesture, curiously glancing up at the man that was so hesistant with physical touch usually.

“Shigaraki-kun?”

He shook his head, eyes focused on your hands

“Tomura.”

You smiled, surprised but satisfied for some reason.

“Tomura,” you whispered, closing your grip around his hands.

Taglist: @crystal-lilac​

#shigaraki tomura #bnha #mha #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki oneshot #shigaraki tomura oneshot #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki tomura fluff #bnha oneshots #bnha fluff #mha fluff #mha oneshot #bnha x reader #mha x reader

[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."

#btsbookclub #bangtanarmynet #ksmutclub #btsguild #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #dom!jungkook #sub!jimin #dom jungkook #jungkook smut #jimin smut #bts smut #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #hot jungkook #jksource

[dameronology]

to all the pilots i've loved before {poe dameron} - 3/4

part three: better half of a whole

summary: you’re in love with poe dameron. it’s both the most complicated and most simple thing in the galaxy - and it’s all shoved into a shoe-box under your bed, in the form of a thousand love letters. here’s to hoping he never finds them. (series masterlist)

warnings: language, mentions of injury

i'm so sorry this took me so long to write!! i got writer's block and then i was horribly busy with a thousand others things and sadly, i cannot prioritise fan fiction over real life duties. and i would know, because i've tried

enjoy!!

- jazz

Poe didn't sleep for...well, it was probably days. Felt like years.

Dear trouble,

Every time he closed his eyes, your face would flash into his mind. The sound of your laugh echoing amongst the cries of war; the feel of your soft hands tracing the remains of battle scars and wounds. What if the hug you gave him before you left was the last? What if your slightly pained laughter at the shitty joke he'd made in the jungle the night before was all he had left? He cherished every memory he had of you but he loved you more.

I know you hate when I call you that, but it feels pretty accurate - because you do cause trouble, normally with me but more recently FOR me. Anyways, I never considered myself to be much of a letter writer, but then I saw yours and...fuck.

Love. What a funny fucking word, right? Said so easily, but meant so much. Something that felt so hard to find, but even more difficult to hold onto. His parents had found it and they'd kept it for so long, and he'd always wanted the same - nothing less, nothing more. Just the kind of unwavering, undying love that can survive a war and be happy with the domesticity that followed. The only difference between Poe and his parents was that they'd been fearless with every aspect of their lives, not withholding their ability to express feelings. Perhaps that's where he fell short. Shara had taught him a lot of things but she'd been lost before he taught her how to pull his head out his ass and just...say things how they were.

What am I even supposed to say? I love you too would be a start, because I obviously I do. I've always wanted to say it but I never wanted to risk what we had in case you secretly hated me, and now I'm going to live out the rest of my days regretting it.

The first that Poe managed to finally get some rest was four days after Leia had broken the news of your disappearance. He'd fallen asleep in his quarters, curled up into Finn's side and clutching a t-shirt of his that he'd left in your room - you'd borrowed it a few months ago, and it still smelt of you. It was a mixture of your everyday body fragrance and a little of engine oil. BB-8 was snoozing quietly in the corner and for the first time in days, Poe's jaw and shoulders weren't tense and clenched.

The little robot did stir, however, when he got a comms system message from Leia. He was awake immediately, cruising across the room and crashing straight into the nearest human he could find - and it was at that point that Finn regretted leaving his leg dangling off the side of the bed. He jumped awake, brown eyes finding the droid peering up at him.

You're not just my best friend. You're my partner in crime, my soulmate and you know that twin flame bullshit that Rey always go on about? You're probably that too because we're both flaming hot. You're the better half of this whole. You and me.

"Poe is sleeping, buddy," he quietly said.

"There's a message from the general," BB-8 beeped back.

Poe suddenly woke up at that - it could have been any message, and certainly not one about you, but something in his gut told him otherwise. If it hadn't have been, Leia would have left it til morning, or not even bothered him at all in his current state.

"What?" the pilot asked. "What is it?"

"They're back, in the med-"

Poe didn't give him a chance to say anything else, because he was already up and out the door - jacket unzipped, boots half unlaced, hair sticking up in a thousand different directions.

And even though he hadn't slept for days, he was running for his dear fucking life. The medical bay was right on the other side of the base and he didn't care. You were there - in what state, he didn't know - and that was all that mattered. He was just wanted to be with you, beside you, and he never planned on leaving.

If I see you again, I'm not gonna hide it anymore. I love you and you deserve to know that. I'm gonna give you the fucking world, I promise.

Poe skidded around the corner, stopping his tracks when he saw you across the room. You looked tired - far past it, in fact - and his entire body tensed when he saw the bruises on your arm and up your neck. Still, he took comfort in the fact that he knew you put up a good fight. You'd sparred together enough times and given him enough bruises to last a life time.

There was a slight oof as someone crashed into the back of Poe (Finn's subtle way of announcing his arrival). He placed a hand on his shoulder, shoving him forward slightly. It was clear that Poe was in a state of shock - at your loss, at your declaration, and even more at your return - because the last few days had changed everything.

Everything he'd ever wanted was about to come to fruition. No pressure.

"Go to them," Finn murmured.

With that, Poe took a few steps forward - you met him half away across the room, chests colliding with enough force to knock down an ATAT. He wound his arms you, pulling you towards him with one hand tangled in your hair and the other holding your back. He clung to you, tears in his eyes and entire body shaking, almost as though he was using the feeling of you to act as a reminder that this wasn't a dream. You were here. You were back. Perhaps a little worst for wear, but alive and standing all the same.

I don't know how I'll say it. Am I meant to just blurt it out? I've never said it to anyone before, so...what the fuck am I meant to do? Normally, I'd come to you for advice on this sort of this but that feels a bit counter intuitive.

"Hey, Poe," you gently murmured.

"Hey, trouble," he let out a shaky laugh, pulling back from the hug to clutch your face in his hands. "You're alive. You're here-"

"- yeah, I'm here," you grinned.

"What happened?" he pushed. "If I ever find those First Order bastards, I swear it's on site."

"They were trying to shoot us out the sky, so we had to lay low on a random moon for a few days, but the residents of said moon were not very friendly and - you know what? It doesn't matter," you leant into his touch, relishing the feeling of his hands against your skin. "I'm here and that's what's important."

"I was so scared," Poe admitted. "And they had me search your room for back up plans and-"

You froze.

"You...you searched my room?" you stuttered. "What did you find?"

The main thing is, I AM gonna tell you. I promise. Just...please come back.

Love, Poe

Poe's eyes widened - maybe now wasn't the best time to break the news. You were bleeding from your head and hadn't slept for days. To spring it on you before you were even cleaned up felt a bit unfair. His worst fears had been avoided, so he didn't mind waiting just a little longer.

"Nothing," he forced a smile. "C'mon, I'll clean you up."

Taking your hand in his, Poe lead you towards one of the beds. He was hardly a medical expert, but he'd been through enough cuts and scrapes to have a basic understanding of stitches. And luckily, your injuries didn't look too bad. It was more just the fact you had them in the first place that hurt him.

What if he'd gone on the mission with you? Or convinced you to stay? Fuck, he would have gone in your place if he knew what was going to happen. The last few days had been the worst of his life and he almost felt responsible for what had happened to you. Your pain was his pain, and he felt it in every fibre of his being.

But, of all things, at least he knew what love was now - and if you had never have gone MIA, he never would have gone looking in your room, and he never would have found those letters. It felt like a bit of a dick move to call them a blessing in disguise but his mother had always taught him the value of looking for silver linings. The last week had been one giant thunderstorm. There had been no breaks in the rain, or sun peaking through the clouds. It had just been darkness and thunder, but it was all beginning to clear now.

What was it that Shara had said when Poe was a kid? Things have a funny way of working out. This was all a testament to that, and also to the fact that she always seemed to be right.

Poe's hands moved gently as he stitched up the cut on your forehead. They were still steady as they moved, brown eyes occasionally moving down to meet yours. He always smiled when they did.

"There we go," he said. "That shouldn't scar, but if it does, it would make you look like a bad-ass, so..."

You chuckled slightly. "Thanks, Dameron."

"You don't have to thank me," he quietly murmured, running a thumb over your cheek. "I'm just glad you're back."

"Right," you grinned. "What did you do whilst I was gone?"

Cried. Read those letters. Cried some more. Wrote a letter myself, then cried on that too.

"I just...I caught up some on some reading," he forced a smile. "C'mon, let's go to my quarters. I have some bactaspray there for those bruises."

Poe took your hand in his again and helped you up off of the bed - you seemed okay to walk, but he didn't let go. He needed to feel you, to know that you were there. He was worried you might float away into the galaxy and disappear all over again if he didn't cling onto you.

And for you, the feeling of his warm hands against yours was a welcome relief after a long few days. You were trying to push the pain and the incoming nightmares to the back of your head, and it was much easier when Poe was beside you. You already knew that he was going to make you sleep beside him that night. Being on the same wavelength so often was a great feeling.

Poe hadn't thought about tidying his room - why would he? He'd been so preoccupied with you, and finding you, that he'd barely considered the idea. Besides, it wasn't like you were going to care about the shoes by his door, or the letters on his desk, or the unfolded laund-

- fuck.

The letters.

Your box of letters, which was sat on his desk, which was right by the door.

By the time he'd even registered that they were there, you were already half way into the room. In a somewhat half-arsed attempt to shove them back in the box and toss them to the side, Poe dove forward and knocked them into an open draw, slamming it shut.

When he turned around and saw your wide eyes, it was clear he was a little too late. You'd already seen them.

taglist: tags: @neverlandlibrarian @asphyzzz @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ubri812 @taina-eny @dessinemoiunehistoire @fangirl-316 @princessxkenobi @brandyllyn

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #poe dameron reader insert #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron angst #poe x you #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron fan fiction #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars x you #star wars fluff #star wars angst #star wars fanfiction #star wars reader inserts

[shysneeze]

cliché (cedric diggory x fem!reader)

Cliché 

Cedric Diggory x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Request: could you do a Cedric Digorry oneshot in which the reader is also a hufflepuff who's always smiling and he sees her crying?

Warnings: mentions of loneliness, crying angsty but also as title suggests its super cliché and soppy but you’ve been warned 

(Author’s Note: This is my first Cedric fic so excuse me if the characterisation isn’t quite correct, its a work in progress also the ending might seem bit rushed but this is a procastination baby and I got spooked last minute that I’m four weeks behind on uni work. )

.

Some might call her a cliché.

It’s rumoured that the hat barely hovered over her head for two seconds before its decision was made, that its decision was made the minute she stepped into the great hall and smiled.

Some will say that the warm yellow tie fixed neatly around her shirt collar and badger crested robes are unnecessary all these years later, that from just one conversation with (Y/N) (Y/L/N), no one could ever doubt that she belongs in Hufflepuff.

With a smile sweeter than honey, her presence can lift the stubbornest of frowns and the lowest of spirits. Patient and loyal, she lends herself as a friend to all, from homesick first years to gossiping classmates.

Like hot chocolate on cold winter day, she’s the most welcome cliché there is, and her reputation precedes her, known to all as the girl with the infectious smile, the never-ending supply of cheerfulness.

Cedric Diggory is no stranger to her smile, the one that sends warmth to his cheeks when their eyes meet during class, the one that causes him to lose all his well earned confidence, that turns house prefect, quidditch captain and school champion, Cedric Diggory, into a nervous wreck.

He’s fallen under the same spell as everyone else, enamoured by whatever it is in her presentation that lifts the mood of an entire room, that holds people captivated and has people longing to be in her company.

Tonight however, he’s seeing her without that smile for what feels like the first time, and his concern logically overrides the part of him that would usually be flustered to be anywhere near her.

The otherwise empty common room is lit only by the gentle flame of the fire, crackling softly in the background. He was about reprimand her, before she turned to face him and he recognised her, even with wide watery eyes and tear-stricken cheeks.

“(Y/N)?”

“C-cedric?” Her voice wobbles until panic suddenly grabs her expression. “Cedric!”

She pulls her jumper’s sleeves over her hands and presses them hastily to her eyes in a scramble to hide her tears. Then, gulping momentarily beforehand, she pulls her lips into a smile so fragile, it falters instantly.

“You caught me.” She forces a chuckle. “I should be in bed...”

She climbs to her feet sheepishly, making her way around the furniture in order to slip past him. He’s almost too dazed to stop her, only reaching out at the last second to take hold of her hand before she can sneak up to the girl’s dorm.

He tugs her back gently, curling her back until she tumble softly into his chest. He steps back quickly to give her space, but keeps hold of her hand too keep her steady. She stares up at him once firmly still again, red-rimmed eyes a mixture of panicked and surprised.

 “Sorry- are you okay?”

“Fine.” She lies poorly.

She scans the room quickly for an excuse, zoning in on a book left lying on the coffee table in front of the sofa she was moments ago sat upon. She turns back to him, mustering a sheepish smile.

“Sad book is all.”

Cedric raises a quizzical brow, slowly leading them both towards the aforementioned book. His eyes scan the title before returning to her own with a knowing glint.

“Really?” He asks. “Transfiguration for Senior Students?”

“Too much change…” She nods, wincing at the stupidity of it. “Fine…”

She drops herself back onto the sofa with a shaky sigh and a hiccup of someone who’s been crying for a while. He studies her for a moment, worried by this teary version of the most cheerful girl in Hogwarts, then, he takes a seat beside her.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, voice gentle and encouraging. “You can tell me.”

“You have enough to worry about with the tournament, Cedric.” She shakes her head. “You don’t need my silly problems on top of it.”

He shakes his head, frowning at the statement.

“I doubt they’re silly, (Y/N).” He says. “Just different.”

Something in his voice, soft, kind and genuinely concerned, has tears stinging at her eyes again and a frustrated sigh falling out her lips. She sniffles again and presses her palms to her eyes.

“This is so stupid.” She hiccups. 

“Hey.” He whispers softly. “It’s okay.”

She freezes when she feels the warmth of his fingertips on her hands for the second time this evening, tugging gently to pull them away from her eyes. She lets him, surrendering to his gentle touch.

“You don’t have to be happy all the time, (Y/N).”

Her breath falters at the statement, the weight of it taking a moment to sink in. She pulls her hands from his to wipe newly forming tears again with her sleeves, the efficiency of which she’s beginning to doubt.

"No one's ever told me that before." She admits, once convinced that she’s composed enough to do so.

"What?" He frowns.

"That I can be upset." She laughs sadly. "I'm sure it's just common sense but no one's ever actually told me before."

"Really?"

"I'm supposed to be the one that has it all together." She reminds. "I'm the shoulder to cry on, not the crier."

She lets out another sigh, looking up at him with watery eyes.

"I didn't know it was possible to be so lonely while never once being alone."

His heart twists at the realisation, that beneath the happy cliché is an ordinary girl shrouded in the worst type of loneliness, the type only felt in a crowded room, that exists in the gaps in lively conversation and that hits you when you try to sleep after a long day spent with friends.

“I don’t know if that makes sense- “

“It does.” He assures quickly. “It does, (Y/N).”

“It’s not that I dislike being the one to help people.” She explains quickly. “I love that people can approach me and ask for help.”

"That doesn't mean it's not hard." Cedric says gently.

"Yeah." She agrees with a sigh. "It just gets to be a lot sometimes..."

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

Her eyes drop to her lap, the softest of sigh escaping her lips, dropping her head back against the back cushion of the sofa and staring up at the ceiling. This isn't how she saw her evening going, sat across from Hogwarts's champion in tears, a blubbering mess.

“It’s okay.” She mumbles. “It’s just how it is.”

"It doesn't have to be."

“Huh?”

“You shouldn’t have to pretend you’re okay all the time.” He explains sincerely, even if just a little nervously. “I want to help, even if that just means being the shoulder you can cry on.”

There is a deep honesty in his grey eyes, intense as they hold hers. She can hear her own heartbeat in her chest, hopeful that even in the quiet of the common room, he can’t hear it too. She’s embarrassed enough for one evening.

“You don’t have to- “

“I want to.” He gulps.

“Why?”

There is that blush she’s become so acquainted with, the one that causes butterflies to flutter in her stomach and for people to nudge her and tell her what a cute couple they’d make together when they notice. The blush she’s grown to find so endearing.

“I care about you, (Y/N).” He admits. “I want you to be happy, but I also want you to know that when you’re not, that I’ll be here to listen to you rant or cry, or even just sit with you in silence if that’s what you need.”

She takes the words in, not sure how she’s supposed to reply without firing herself into his arms. He reaches out nervously for her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. The look he gives her is something between reassuring honesty and shy, as if trying to make sure he’s gotten his point across.

“You don’t deserve to feel lonely.”

“T-thanks, Cedric.” She manages after a minute, although unsatisfied about how understated it is. “That means a lot.”

Whether the warmth of his hand in hers or the kindness of his words she’s unsure, but for the first time this evening, her chest feels lighter and although her eyes sting, they no longer well with tears when she’s left to her own thoughts for longer than a few seconds. 

“Someone should have repaid you that kindness before now.”

“I’m glad it’s you.”

Her voice is quiet, nervous to say the words aloud. Yet, they’re bold words, a leap she’s suddenly proud for taking and that she hopes he’ll find the deeper meaning of. At his expression, she knows he does, but that he needs to be sure.

“I mean to say that it means more coming from you than I suspect it would from anyone else…”

“Oh.”

She panics, sure she’s made a mistake from his slight reaction. She goes to pull her hand from his in order to make her mortified bid for freedom easier, but his grip tightens enough to still her desire to flee.

“No, I just need to know you’re not just saying this because you’re upset.” He explains. “That you aren’t just doing this out of gratefulness or- “

“I like you, Cedric.”

There it is, a clear and concise confession, the words he’s never imagined from her lips before, not when he’s so regularly embarrassed himself by turning into a stuttering nervous wreck in front of her.

“I’ve liked you for a while and I’m not just saying it because I’m grateful.” She adds in assurance. “I’m doing it because you’ve just seen me at my worst and not ran, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel completely alone.”

“I’d never run.” He whispers reassuring, rubbing his thumb soothingly over her knuckles.

“Not even now, with puffy red eyes and tear stained cheeks?”

“No.�� He shakes his head. “Not even now, because you look beautiful regardless.”

She once again worries that he’ll hear her hear racing in her chest.

“Talk about a cliché.” She exhales.

“I quite like a good cliché.” He states, grinning at her softly. “They’re terribly misunderstood.”

She returns his smile, not the one she forced onto her cheeks at the beginning of the evening, or even the one that he’s so used to making him blush, that he knows now was hiding a pain beneath it. This smile is new, honest, and soft, the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“I love this smile.”

She melts into his touch when one of is hands comes to cup her cheek, pad of his thumb ghosting over the corner of her lips. He’s decided it’s his new favourite thing, this newly genuine smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Hmm.” She hums in agreement. “Yes please.”

Their lips meet tentatively, her face still cupped in his hand, the other holding hers still. It’s slow, he gentle with her and she’s grateful after such an emotional evening. She’d go as far to say that it’s perfect in a way.

“I’m never going to let you feel lonely again.”

“I believe you.”

#cedric diggory #cedric diggory x reader #cedric x reader #cedric imagine #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory reader insert #cedric diggory fanfiction #cedric diggory fanfic #harry potter imagines #cedric #harry potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #reader insert #x readers

[massivedrickhead]

Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 2

July 27th: Bed sharing/one bed

Read on AO3

Fun fact - everything I’ve written/will write for Bechloe week this year are all part of the same universe, but they won’t be posted in chronological order. So at the end of the week I’ll probably put something up with a list of the prompts in chronological order :)

-

Beca was pretty sure that sharing a bed with Chloe Beale was simultaneously the worst and best thing that had ever happened to her.

It was almost unbearable to be that close to her without being able to touch her in the way she really wanted to.

Strike that.

It was unbearable.

But Beca couldn’t sleep any other way.

On those occasions when Chloe would sleep elsewhere, Beca would find herself unable to drop off.

She’d be up most of the night tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable, unable to shut her mind off.

It was as if Chloe’s mere presence could calm Beca in a way that nothing else could.

And then they would have these moments of complete vulnerability late at night.

Chloe would reach out with a featherlight touch and run a hand through Beca’s hair. So gentle that sometimes Beca thought she was imagining it.

“Bec?”

“Hmm?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“M’kay.”

Beca would roll over, still practically asleep, and lift her arm, allowing Chloe to either scoot back into her - making Beca the big spoon - or for her to rest her head on her chest.

Beca was usually already asleep by the time Chloe had gotten into a comfortable position, but she always seemed to register the soft “thanks,” that Chloe would whisper.

On those nights when it was Beca’s turn to be comforted, Chloe seemed to always know without Beca having to ask.

Logically, Beca knew it was probably down to the fact that Beca tossed and turned more, or played on her phone for longer, that tipped Chloe off, but she liked to think that Chloe just… knew.

“What do you need?” Chloe would ask, her voice quiet and thick with sleep.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Can you do the hair thing?”

“Mhm.”

Chloe would then lie on her side and gently run her hands through Beca’s hair, her nails lightly scratching her scalp.

Her other hand would rest on Beca’s side or stomach - depending on if she was on her back or side - and her thumb would sweep gently back and forth.

In the daylight, neither would mention these moments. They’d usually wake up back on their respective sides, and if they didn’t whoever woke up first would pull away and climb out of bed - usually waking the other in the process.

And while these moments were nothing short of tortuous for Beca, they were still the favourite part of her day.

Because at two or three in the morning, nothing else matters. There are no distractions. No texts or emails to answer. No potential to be interrupted. Nowhere they needed to be.

They could just exist in the quiet together. Their bed was an island in the room. They could ask questions that, in the cold light of day, could be forgotten or ignored. They could share secrets or confess insecurities that neither would at any other time of day.

“Bec, do you believe in soulmates?”

“I don’t know. I think so. Do you?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

-

“If I hadn’t kissed Jesse, do you think things would be different?”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. Just different. I dated him throughout all of college, maybe I missed experiencing some things?”

“Do you regret dating him so long?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

-

“Chlo’?”

“‘Yeah?”

“What if I don’t make it as a producer? What if I’m not good enough?”

“You’re the most talented person I know. You’ll make it.”

-

Over the years of being best friends with Chloe, she’d always had a crush on her. It had been a harmless thing really, she assumed everyone had a crush on Chloe.

Especially after a drunken confession to Aubrey had caused the blonde to let out a snort of laughter and say “girl, same.”

But this last year or so that they’d spent sharing a bed - sharing more of themselves with each other than they’d ever done before - Beca had fallen hard and fast and completely in love with Chloe.

Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t an ideal situation. Especially considering that, about three weeks ago, Chloe had started dating Chicago.

“He rescued us from the Med, Beca. I think I owe him a date.”

“Technically Amy and I rescued you. He turned up after the hard bit was done.”

Wearing a new dress and her highest heels, Chloe had thrown Beca a wink and said “don’t wait up!” as she left their apartment to meet him for the third time this week.

Once the door closed, Beca flopped back dramatically on the bed and let out a groan.

“You know you could tell her!” Amy called from her bedroom. “Actually, ignore that, that’s a bad idea. If she turned you down it would make our living situation way more awkward.”

“When not if,” Beca said, miserably. “Have you seen the abs on Shit-ago?”

(Yes, her nickname for Chicago was unnecessarily mean and childish, but give her a break.)

“If Chloe hadn’t accepted the date I would have climbed him like a tree,” Amy said.

“You could save me a lot of pain if you’d use those millions of dollars you have to move out so I could at least have my own room,” Beca said.

Amy left her room and was also looking dressed up for a night out.

“I’m doing you a favour captain,” Amy said. “If I move out you’ll have no excuse to share a bed anymore, and I know you can’t sleep without her. Besides, when she eventually moves in with Chicago, you won’t be able to afford the rent on your own.”

“Please don’t use his real name, it humanises him,” Beca said. “And what makes you think she’d move in with him? Has she said anything?”

“Not specifically, no. But things are obviously going well between them. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that Chloe has found ‘the one’,” Amy said. “So, you know, if you’re going to make a confession of love, time’s ticking.” She checked her phone. “I gotta go. If you are going to comfort eat please leave my Ben & Jerry’s out of it.”

“I make no promises,” Beca said.

“Hmm, due to your pathetic state, I’ll let you off. See you tomorrow!”

Beca spent the remainder of her night feeling sorry for herself, and making some truly self-indulgent mixes.

There were so many songs about unrequited love that Beca was never short of material, and when she finished she saved them in a hidden password-protected so no-one else could even accidentally listen to them.

No, these mixes weren’t going to help her career but they did make her feel at least a little bit better.

The crying and eating Amy’s ice-cream had helped too of course.

Beca was in bed by the time Chloe got back that night, and even thought she wasn’t asleep she pretended she was.

Chloe could always tell when Beca had been crying, and she definitely did not want to talk about the reason why.

So she closed her eyes when she heard the keys in the door, and kept them closed as the lights came on which was followed by the sound of high-heeled shoes walking across the apartment.

She felt the bed dip behind her, and heard the click of Chloe’s lamp turn on.

The bed jostled again, and the main light went off.

She heard running water from the bathroom as Chloe washed off her makeup and brushed her teeth, and then the sound of drawers opening as she searched for pyjamas.

She heard Chloe undressing, and tried not to picture it. She hoped Chloe didn’t need help with unzipping her dress, because she didn’t know if she could handle that right now.

Eventually the bed dipped again and the light went out.

She felt Chloe gently tug at the blankets so she could cover herself.

Then there was nothing but a calm silence.

Beca could tell by the way that Chloe was breathing that she wasn’t asleep yet and before she could stop herself, she was rolling over to face her.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi,” Chloe replied. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Beca just smiled as she looked at Chloe’s face in the moonlight. She was so beautiful.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Beca said. “How was your night?”

They were both whispering, even though they were the only two people in the apartment, and it was only a little after midnight.

“Fine,” Chloe said. “What did you get up to?”

“Made some mixes,” Beca said. “Before you ask, no. They’re not ready yet.”

Chloe grinned. “Not even for me?”

“Especially not for you.”

“Spoil sport,” Chloe said.

They fell into an easy silence while they just continued to look at each other, and Beca felt that tug in her heart again.

She wanted more than anything to just reach out and touch her. To tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. To sweep her thumb across her jaw.

To kiss her.

God, she wanted to kiss her.

She swallowed, and turned so she was lying on her back.

Amy was right. Time was running out if she was going to say something. And Beca knew she had to say something.

She just didn’t think she could look at Chloe while she said it.

“Is everything okay?” Chloe asked, in her gentlest voice that was always Beca’s undoing.

She just had to do it. She had to rip the bandaid off and deal with whatever came after.

If Chloe turned her down… well… their friendship could survive that.

Right?

“Are you gonna move in with Chicago?”

If she’d been looking at Chloe she’d have seen her frown.

“What? No, what made you ask that? We’ve only been dating for a couple of weeks,” Chloe sounded genuinely confused, and it spurred Beca on. “We’ve been on, like, six dates.”

“But is that something you could see yourself doing? With him, I mean.”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t really know him, I hadn’t thought about it. Why?”

Beca swallowed again.

It was now or never.

“Chloe, I… fuck, this is… look, this is hard, okay. I’m not good at this.”

“Bec, you’re kinda freaking me out,” Chloe said. She sat up and switched on the lamp on her nightstand.

Beca felt instantly exposed and vulnerable - way too vulnerable - and she was up and off the bed in seconds.

“Beca-”

“Just… just give me a second,” Beca said, her heart beating uncomfortably.

She could feel tears building in her eyes and, at that exact moment, they heard the sound of keys in the door before Amy walked in.

“Funny story,” she said, shutting the door and walking further into the room. “Turns out it’s next week that I’m staying-”

She stopped abruptly, realising she had stepped into some kind of emotional minefield.

“Uh oh,” she said. “Beca when I said you should tell her I didn’t mean toni-”

“Nope!” Beca said, loudly cutting her off before walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

Okay, so this wasn’t exactly going to plan.

She had locked herself in the bathroom and was maybe on the verge of a panic attack.

Not an ideal situation.

“Beca,” Chloe said, knocking on the door. “Come on, you can’t stay in there forever.”

I can try, Beca thought.

When Beca didn't respond, or give any indication that she would come out of the bathroom anytime soon, Chloe turned to Amy with a huff of frustration.

“What just happened?”

“So… she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No! I think she was about to tell me something and then…” Chloe trailed off with a shrug. “I don’t know. Something freaked her out and then you showed up.”

“Look this is really not something I should - or want to - be involved in,” Amy said. “So I’m just gonna…” She jerked a thumb towards her bedroom. Amy made a hasty retreat and Chloe returned to the bathroom door.

“Beca, please,” Chloe said. “Look, even if you don’t wanna talk to me, can you just unlock the door so I can go pee. I’ve had like a full bottle of wine tonight and you know how small my bladder is.”

She heard the lock slide and Beca opened the door.

Chloe could see tears in her eyes despite the fact that Beca was doing everything in her power to avoid looking at her.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, as Beca moved aside to let her in.

It hadn’t been a lie, Chloe really did need to pee, so after she closed the door behind her, Beca sat down on the bed and let her head drop into her hands.

It’s probably for the best, she thought. It would ruin everything.

The light from the lamp had had the same sobering effect of daylight.

It reminded her of all the reasons she hadn’t told Chloe how she felt, and why she shouldn’t tell her now.

Any fantasies she could conjure up during the night were always chased away by the day.

While Chloe was stroking her hair in the moonlight, it was easy to imagine that they could be together, but those hopes were always replaced with facts the next day. And the same thing was happening now.

Beca felt something hard lodge itself in her chest as she came to a realisation.

She couldn’t keep doing this.

She’d have to start looking for a new place.

When she heard the toilet flush and the sound of running water she quickly wiped her eyes.

She didn’t look at Chloe when she came out, and kept her eyes fixed on her clasped hands in front of her.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

“No,” Beca said. “It’s… it’s nothing. It was dumb. Can we just go to sleep?”

“Sure,” Chloe said with a sigh.

Beca didn’t get into bed until the light was off and then she lay with her back to Chloe.

“Night Bec.”

Beca swallowed again, hoping her voice was steady. “Night.”

Beca’s phone then lit up on her bedside table.

Amy: omg tell her or I will!!!

Beca read it, smiled briefly, and then locked her phone.

She didn’t say anything else, but after a few minutes of silence, Chloe rolled over and wrapped her arm around Beca’s middle. Her other hand started stroking through her hair.

“You get a headache when you cry,” she said softly, answering the question Beca hadn’t asked.

Something broke inside Beca, and she knew she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I’m in love with you Chloe.”

Chloe’s hand stilled and Beca’s heart seemed to stop beating.

The silence stretched on, and Beca had to fight every urge to run.

And then Chloe’s arm tightened around Beca’s waist, and she pulled her closer.

“What took you so long?”

Beca laughed and turned around to face her. Their faces were inches apart now, and Beca could see the tears building in Chloe’s eyes.

“I was scared,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was so fucking scared. I didn’t want to lose you.”

“You could never lose me,” Chloe replied. “You will never lose me. I promise.”

Her eyes traveled over Beca’s face, flicking between her eyes, looking for doubt or regret. She didn’t see either. She saw love and adoration. She saw vulnerability, hope, and a tiny fraction of fear.

“I’m in love with you too, Bec.”

And then the fear was gone from her eyes and her face broke into a grin.

“Yeah?” Beca asked, letting out a tearful laugh.

“Yeah,” Chloe replied.

“Can I kiss you?”

Chloe nodded, and their lips met a second later.

Tomorrow, in the cold light of day, Chloe would tell Chicago she didn’t think they should see each other anymore. Tomorrow, she would ask Beca on a date and if it went well - which she knew it would - she would ask her to be her girlfriend.

Tomorrow, when the sun was up, she would repeat these things they’d said to each other in the moonlight.

She’d tell Beca she loved her.

She’d tell Beca she’d always loved her.

And Beca would say it back. A thousand times. In a thousand different ways.

#bechloe week #bechloe week 2021 #bechloe #bechloe prompt #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fic #beca #Chloe #beca x chloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fanfic #pitch perfect fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

[plussizeappreciationfics]

Series: Just the assistant..?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Plus sized reader

Summary: [Y/N], Tom's personal assistant knows that she shouldn't have fallen in love with her employer but she just couldn't help herself. When she thinks that her biggest wish is about to come true, a third party arrives and makes her question whether she'd ever have a chance to escape her situation and simply be loved back by the person she loves the most...

Warning(s): None, I think?

Word count: 5,2k

Picture(s) found on: Pinterest/Google

CHAPTER ONE: Ignition

"Just a few more minutes until they call, do you want something to drink?" (Y/N) asked Tom as she made her way to the kitchen, her heart fluttering nervously in her chest as the tension rose in his living room. 

He had been sitting on the couch, frozen on the spot while staring into space with his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He couldn’t voice the intense waves of anxiety and nervousness coursing through his body, time seemed to pass slowly. One of the producers of Harold Pinter's Play "Betrayal" was about to let him know whether he had gotten one of the main roles or not.

Tom had auditioned for the play a while ago and had desperately hoped that his performance was worthy enough to act the play out on the stage. He had always loved theatre, the interest had never decreased throughout the years. Harold Pinter was also a writer Tom had always looked up to as his plays always inspired and touched him on a deep level that not everyone was able to understand.

 "Tom" (Y/N) called out again.

He had never answered her question which had made her turn on her heel and focus her gaze on his tensed back and shoulders. He still hadn’t moved a muscle as his brain was clouded with too many thoughts at the same time. His assistant let out a soft sigh, her heart fluttering as she longed to gently place her hands on his back and give him a soothing massage. God...I just want to feel you relax under my touch. Whisper my name in a state of longing...

She bit back a craving hum as her eyes continued to appreciate his backside, he obviously needed some time to himself and wasn’t in need of any liquid refreshment. She turned back around and walked into the kitchen while hoping and praying that he’d get the role as he really deserved it. 

She empathised with his every emotion and felt anxious herself, a habit she had when loving someone. Once in the kitchen, [Y/N] quickly walked over to the fridge and took a bottle of water out of it, popped open the cap and let out a soft hum when the cool liquid made its way down her throat. It had been dry and itching for a little while but she didn’t want to leave Tom’s side. She was his biggest supporter, not just the assistant that had been loving him for three years now.

She couldn’t distinguish whether she ever crushed on him or just immediately found herself loving him. She had been a silent admirer of him and his work before she got the amazing (and well paying) opportunity to work as his personal assistant. But she was a professional and strictly made herself keep all the romantic feelings she had for Tom on the down low, she knew that both of their images were at stake if she’d dive into the cliché “employee messing with their boss” mess.  

It was easier said than done but she quickly developed some quality acting skills that prevented the British gentleman from even guessing her true feelings about him. She didn't want to jeopardise her job as it was something she really loved and appreciated doing.

"[Y/N]!" Tom called out in panic, causing her to place the water bottle on the kitchen counter and run back into the living room, where she found him standing in front of the coffee table with his phone still in his hand. The anxiety clouding his eyes quickly vanished the second he looked at his assistant, her presence immediately had calmed him down.

His loud ringtone echoed through the room.  “W-what should I do?” he questioned, feeling like he had lost all common sense while his heart beat harshly against his ribcage.

She chuckled and shook her head while pointing at his phone. “Accept the call!”.

He frantically nodded, letting his thumb slide across his screen before holding his phone to his ear. [Y/N] let out a shaky breath, this was finally the big moment and she was glad that she was the only one who got to witness it. He never put up a show in front of her during these types of moments and that was one of the many reasons why she loved him; he unconsciously made her feel so special on an almost day-to-day basis.

“Hello?” Tom spoke before a nervous laugh escaped his lips, “Gerald, how are you?”, his manners were impeccable while his facial expression turned serious. A big frown crept onto his face, he bit his lower lip and slowly nodded his head. The room got silent  and the assistant didn’t know what to do; she was silently contemplating whether to have a seat on the couch or stay on her feet, ready to walk away in case he wanted some privacy. 

A smile appeared on her face when the actor looked at her again, smiling brightly and motioning with his hand for her to take a seat on the couch. Her stomach fluttered in delight at the fact that he wanted her near and witness this exciting moment with him. 

She made her way over to the couch and was about to sit down when a loud gasp escaped his lips, a smile stretching across his handsome face. “Thank you so much! I-I can’t believe this! Thank you, thank you!” he happily spoke out and then chuckled. She stared wide eyed at him as she quickly caught onto what was happening.

He had gotten the role.

[Y/N] barely could hide her grin as she felt the anxiety disappear like a heavy weight being lifted off her shoulders. An overwhelming urge to reach out for Tom’s handsome face and press her lips against his overtook her senses. But she knew damn well that that was something didn't have the right to do. So, with a soft sigh she fought her inner voices and body parts to stay still and not do something she'd regret. 

Words couldn’t describe how proud she was of him, he was perfect for the role and she couldn’t wait to see the whole production come to life. Tom would have the time of his life and gain more experience in the industry which could lead to his next job, once the play would be over.

“I certainly will!” Tom laughed and nodded his head, snapping [Y/N] back to reality. They locked eyes and just grinned at each other.  “Thanks again, have a nice day. Bye!”, a loud laugh escaped his lips as he tossed his phone onto the couch and surprised his assistant by charging towards her and then quickly engulfing her in a tight embrace.

“I got the part! I can’t believe it!”

“Congrats, Tom! I knew you’d get it”. [Y/N]’s knees almost buckled as her arms were wrapped around his broad shoulders, his delicate scent filling her nostrils. Her body instantly relaxed and she felt lightheaded, she wished for this moment to last forever, this is where she felt to belong. In his arms. The actor gave her another squeeze and let out a relieved sigh, his body enjoying the intimate embrace, the sensation surprising him greatly. They had hugged countless times (which had always left [Y/N] a sensitive mess like in that current moment), but this time it felt different for him.

Her delicate scent mixed with her sweet perfume  made him close his eyes, his soul suddenly being at peace. The feeling of her soft and squishy body made him bury his head in the crook of her neck and gently sigh out in pleasure. She clenched her jaw in order to stop herself from gasping out loud as an intense shiver coursed down her spine. Tom had never hugged her this way, his beard tickled her sensitive skin and she loved every second of it. 

Her heart skipped a beat before playing a loud song against her ribcage, this felt like a dream. A delicate dream she hoped to never wake up from. The room was silent, their soft breathing being the only thing whispering through the atmosphere as the actor continued to enjoy the feeling of having his assistant so close to him.

 Pleasant tingles coursed through his body as he absentmindedly gave her another squeeze, her beautiful face appearing behind his now closed eyelids. No one spoke a word. Just two souls initiating their passionate connection.

 “Tom” [Y/N] whispered after a few minutes, needing to end the moment even if it made her heart ache. But she knew that if she wouldn’t speak up, he would and probably conclude that they’d been hugging for way too long and inappropriately. When he hummed softly and opened his eyes, he gave her one final squeeze before slowly pulling away and smiling at her. He didn’t regret anything.

 He drank in the sight of her beautiful face, his eyes sparkling suddenly. “We need to celebrate this!” the excitement was slowly bubbling up again in his stomach. The assistant let out a chuckle and pulled her out her phone from her jean pocket. “Sure, who do you want me to invite?” she questioned while trying to get down from the delicate high she still was on. His cologne mixed with his mesmerising scent still lingered in her nose and her heart even ached more now.

 Her fingers slightly trembled while typing in her passcode before she went on the message app, ready to send out a dinner invitation to Tom’s closest friend group. She cleared her throat and looked up again, her heart skipping another beat when she saw him smile brightly at her like she was the most delicate creature walking the earth...

 “How about I cook something just for the two of us and we can celebrate with Ben, Charlie and Idris tomorrow?”.

 [Y/N] let out a breathless chuckle and nodded her head, “Sounds great…”. Words couldn’t describe the euphoria pumping through her blood. Even though he hadn’t officially asked her out, she still felt happy and excited to spend some more time alone with him. She didn’t have high hopes of  something happening but just being in his presence was more than enough for her to soothe her cravings temporarily and that made her gladly accept every opportunity to be alone with him, work related or not.

 “Great! How about Chicken Fettucine Alfredo?”. She grinned, nodded and put her phone back into her pocket. She was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do next, a part of her wanted to throw herself back into his arms and another one to get back to her house and let the previous, intimate moment dawn onto her. 

She chose the latter.

 “I-I’ll go freshen up and finish some tasks for you. Let me know when you want me back” she smiled at him one last time before walking towards his front door, knowing that the actor was staring at her back. “Okay, I’ll send you a text message!” Tom gently called out and watched with a smile on his face how she waved her hand in the air to indicate that she had heard him. [Y/N] then had left his house seconds later.

 “Mhm…” the actor whispered to himself, suddenly feeling his stomach sink. The happiness and excitement simmered down while he sat down on his couch and leaned back. His eyes fell shut and he thought about what just had happened: He had gotten the role of one of his favourite plays and felt like he was dreaming. He couldn’t wait to start the project and try his best to captivate the people with his talent all over again. He was going to play Robert, a man whose wife was having an affair with his best friend of several years. 

 He was impatient to find out who was going to be casted as the other two characters: Emma and Jerry. He appreciated and loved his work so much, but knew that he wouldn’t have gotten this special part if it weren’t for his assistant who had strongly encouraged him to audition for the play. 

 [Y/N].

Tom could barely express how much she had changed his life for the better when he had hired her three years ago. He just had broken up with his famous ex-girlfriend and was being bullied by her fans so much that he disappeared from the spotlight once his work schedules were cleared. 

His friends didn’t see him often as he hid away in his house, trying to tune out the discomfort and regret he felt from letting the whole world focus on his relationship. He was known for keeping his private life private, but the love he had felt for her had made him disregard his own strict rule and boundary. To be publicly ridiculed was one of harshest lessons he had to learn.

That's when his agent suggested hiring a personal assistant to help him keep his profile on the down low until he’d feel better. 

[Y/N] was hired not too long after his hiatus from the public eye, her job had been to see what roles the entertainment company Tom was signed to had to offer and also fulfill personal tasks like going grocery shopping or sending out birthday gifts and so on. But with her already having caught serious feelings for him, she had a natural urge to also take care of him, not as her boss but as a confidant and comforter.

 It was her bright, charming and loving personality along with her soothing and encouraging ways that slowly brought Tom out of the protective bubble he had created around himself. A strong friendship was quickly formed while he felt himself change back into this natural self. A better self.

[Y/N] became his silent rock to lean on while continuing to work for him. When he was back to his naturally charming and funny self in public and private, she had become conscious about her feelings for him. She was surprised (but also very relieved) that no one had suspected anything. Benedict and his wife Sophie, Idris and his Wife Sabrina along with Charlie and his wife Samantha all had quickly grown to love her as a part of their friend group.

The assistant was way more loosened up with the actors wives as they had a very close and strong bond as women. Around the male actors, she was a tiny bit more reserved but just to keep up the professional “I am not hopelessly in love with my boss and don’t want you to know about it” act. 

But Tom was just as supportive of his assistant when life became difficult for her too. Often placing a comforting hand on her shoulder or back while fighting the urge to hold her close and promise to take care of whatever issue she was facing when she couldn’t keep the tears to herself anymore. Tom and [Y/N] had come a long way together, individually and as friends.

“Bloody hell” 

Tom muttered when realising that he had zoned out for a good ten minutes. His stomach was doing flips but he didn’t feel sick or nauseous. The overwhelming urge to feel [Y/N] so close to him again had left him craving for more ever since she had left his house. 

He bit down onto his lower lip when he remembered the delicate sensations tingling through his body, the intensity was something the actor hadn’t experienced in a long time. Or ever. He shook his head, snapping himself out of his little daydream and shot up from the couch. “I should go grocery shopping for tonight’s celebration” was what he muttered to himself before picking up his car keys from the small coffee table and saying his goodbye to Bobby who had waltzed into the living room with a wiggly tail. 

Tom chuckled, petted his beloved dog and then made his way towards the front door with a pleased smile resting on his handsome face.

~~~

“Fuck, why am I like this?” [Y/N] cried out in frustration as she was standing in her full length mirror, staring at her naked body wrapped in a towel. She just had gotten out of the shower, her skin was glistening and glowing from the lotion she had applied to her body, her hair moisturised . She was scanning her body from head to toe and slowly felt herself become insecure. She had this lingering feeling that the hug she had shared with Tom had a deeper meaning. 

 Her conscious refused to let go of the matter and she found herself wondering if he’d ever be interested in her. Her eyes continued to scan her body from head to toe, every thick bump and curve being intensely observed. “Stop it” she hissed at herself, shaking her head and trying to distract her craving heart from the fact that it might had found its perfect match. “I’m just the assistant” [Y/N] reminded herself before stepping away from the mirror and walking over to her closet.

 She didn’t want to overdress for a simple celebration dinner, and quickly decided on a simple and comfortable outfit for the private event; a pair of black jeans, a white, long sleeved shirt with not too much cleavage and a black jean jacket in case she'd get cold.  

It took her a few minutes to get dressed before she focused on her hair and light makeup. She chose to not wear many layers of makeup. Tonight she preferred a natural look that would also enable her skin to breathe easily. Once she was done, she gave herself a final look in the mirror and nodded her head in approval.

 She looked beautiful, as always.

 “Let’s do this then” she whispered to herself and then made her way out of her bedroom. Now all she needed was for Tom to let her know that he was to welcome her back into his house.  “Okay, it’s nothing special” the assistant muttered to herself while suddenly feeling her heart starting to beat faster in her chest.

 This was the usual habit she had whenever she was about to see the British actor: reminding herself that her deepest desire wouldn't become reality and to keep herself in check. [Y/N] had been in love and had loved a decent amount of people but never had she felt these intense emotions for someone. 

She had been with the most charming and loving or shitty and selfish people, the heartbreaks she had gone through were either very painful and long lasting or quick and rather painless. It always made her wonder how Tom had been able to sweep her off her feet in such a delicate yet simple manner, and why she loved him stronger with each passing day.

The plus sized beauty was now in her kitchen, eating a granola bar while sitting at the counter. The silence in the house smoothly encouraged her to relax for a little while and unwind. She had finished the few tasks she had to do for her boss; making sure that his stylist had the suits ready for his public appearances that were coming up in a few days.

A BAFTA event was just around the corner and Tom had gladly accepted their invitation as he was one of the many ambassadors. The organisation had planned a few games with delightful prices such as apprentices abroad for upcoming musicians, actors and artists or tickets to Tom’s upcoming play to encourage people to get in touch with their creative self. 

The actor was thrilled to meet new people and witness others from different backgrounds, to witness them earn amazing opportunities to either learn, travel or create themselves artistically.

[Y/N] wouldn’t join him to the event. She had a lengthy list of new things to work on for her boss. The final Avengers movie would be released in the theaters in a few months but Tom wouldn’t join the press tour as he’d be on stage here in London. But his own Loki series had gotten the green light so he’d have to start meeting up with the creative writers and producers to see how they’d bring the series to life. It was obvious that Tom would be booked and busy for at least a year.

[Y/N] got lost in her thoughts again, absentmindedly finishing her granola bar while planning her following weeks ahead, she knew that stressful days were ahead but she didn't mind that at all. At the end, she'd get her job done.

It took her a few minutes to snap out of her daze before her phone loudly notified her that she had received a message.

From: Tom

Finally, she thought to herself while unlocking her phone and reading Tom’s new message.

To: Me

I’m done cooking, waiting for your presence now 😊

From: Me

“Aw” the assistant cooed with a wide grin on her face, the message was so short and simple yet it made her feel like she was floating on cloud nine. Especially because Tom rarely used emojis, so to see that she was worthy enough for a smiley face filled her heart with joy.

To: Tom

Her thumb hit the sent button before she hopped off the kitchen stool, her heartbeat increasing again as she felt a rush of warmth and excitement ripple through her body. 

I’m on my way 😊

[Y/N] took her purse off the counter and placed her phone in it before taking out her keys. Her footsteps softly echoed through the air as she made her way to the front door with a gorgeous smile resting on her face. She couldn’t wait to see her love again.

“Wow” was the first thing Tom whispered once he swung the door open, his eyes immediately were blessed with the sight of [Y/N] standing right in front of him. Their eyes sparkled while staring deeply into one another. “Hi” [Y/N] whispered, her body relaxing instantly while waiting for the actor to welcome her back into his home.

~~~

“Hello” Tom finally spoke, his heart pounding so hard that he was afraid she’d be able to hear it.  He took a step aside and widened the door, “Please enter”. The assistant thanked him before walking into his house, not noticing how he closed the door while whispering a soft “You are so beautiful” into the air. 

“It smells amazing” she complimented while already having placed her purse on the small coffee table in front of his couch, now patiently waiting for the actor to turn around and interact with her.

Tom took a few seconds to lock his door before finally turning on his heel and biting back a grin when his eyes landed on [Y/N] again. Her beauty and presence were sucking him into a delicate whirl of endless contentment, but he didn’t fight it. “Thank you, I hope you’ll enjoy the meal. How about a drink first?” he suggested while walking over to her and playfully holding out his arm to her.

She chuckled and happily linked her arm with his, his cologne mixed with his scent filling her nostrils while they made their way into the kitchen where she could hear the soft sizzling filling the air. Tom led her over to the big counter where he already had set the table and everything else up, some candles included. It looked like a romantic dinner.

[Y/N] clenched her jaw to stop herself from voicing how pretty everything looked, it looked like a meal for lovers, not employer and employee. But she swallowed her thought, not wanting to risk saying anything that could ruin the smooth and delightful vibe. So with a soft sigh, she turned around and gently thanked Tom for preparing the celebration dinner.

“Don’t even mention it” he chuckled and made sure that she was comfortably seated before he rushed over to the pans and pots and started to serve her the celebration dinner. Her mouth watered at the delicious sight and she couldn’t wait to dig in. But she patiently waited until he was done with his own plate and was seated before she rose her glass filled with non-alcoholic Peach Moscato. [Y/N] wasn’t planning on getting drunk as the next day would be very hectic for her.

"To you” she gently spoke, her heart fluttering in her chest when Tom copied her actions and smiled brightly at her. “No, to us” he added and let his glass with the same drink clink against hers.

“I didn’t do anything” the assistant responded with a soft chuckle before taking a quick sip of her drink and humming in delight. It tasted delicious. “You’re the actor who went to the audition” she added before lifting her fork and smoothly digging it into a piece of diced and seasoned chicken.

Tom shook his head while following her motions, “You did a lot actually. I wasn’t sure whether I was good enough to even audition for the role. But you encouraged me and supported me from the beginning to the end, and I can’t thank you enough for that [Y/N].

Once his words left his mouth, the room fell silent. 

[Y/N] and Tom just looked at each other, so many unspoken emotions flashing past their eyes. The tension had shifted again but not to something awkward. It was like their souls were communication as the sparkles in their eyes never left. They only thought about each other and how grateful they were to be in that intimate moment with one another.

The actor couldn’t stop thinking about how he suddenly longed to be close to her again. Feel her warm and soft body pressed against him, have her scent make him forget about the world and just focus on her. His lips tingled, the urge to feel hers pressed against his overwhelming him.

[Y/N] was thinking the exact same thing, the attraction she had felt for him only became stronger with every passing moment. Her breathing became quicker when her mind started to picture how it would feel to kiss him…Hold him close while letting their lips melt together as one with nothing but love and passion.

“T-Thank you” was all she was able to say as she snapped back to reality and realised that she hadn’t responded to his kind words. Tom nodded his head and gave her a bright smile before both of them continued to enjoy the food together.

“This is scrumptious” the assistant praised with a hum before taking another bite, trying to play it cool while she felt the heat and warmth course through her body. Tom chuckled and bowed his head, blushing at the simple compliment, “I’m happy you’re enjoying it”. What he didn't voice was how he had spiced up the simple recipe, the need to impress [Y/N] driving him through the short time of preparing the meal.

The two of them then continued to eat while talking about their upcoming vacations, the production of the play wouldn't start until a few weeks and the Loki series was months away from being filmed.  [Y/N] didn’t want to just talk about their work and happily listened to Tom voicing his desire to travel to Asia again for two weeks. He then told her about filming Kong: Skull Island in Vietnam and Hawaii. Throughout the dinner, his hand found hers numerous times and he gave it a gentle squeeze before sliding it back and either taking a sip of his drink or finishing his plate.

"And so I had to explain to my boss's ex-girlfriend that he had wanted the engagement ring back but that he was too embarrassed to come and collect it himself! After he had been caught red handed cheating on her!" [Y/N] finished explaining the crazy story about her previous employer, clasping her hands against her cheeks and shaking her head at the awkward memories.

___

Tom was having a delightful laugh, his cackles echoing through the kitchen while trying to imagine how his assistant must've felt in that moment. "That is just crazy! I assure you [Y/N] that I won't ever ask you to do such a thing for me" he chuckled at the end and shook his head.

"Good, because that experience made me add lots of terms and conditions to my general contract. I've actually been rejected a few times because those who had been interested in hiring me didn't approve of my demands" the assistant chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"Like I have no issues going grocery shopping for you but I won't do your dirty laundry or buy lube and condoms for you at 3 o'clock in the morning...". The last phrase made Tom almost choke on his spit before he burst out laughing again, his cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiles and laughter. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed or enjoyed someone's presence this much.

"Shit, Tom. it's almost midnight! We've been eating and goofing around for hours!" [Y/N] gasped in panic, not having realised how fast the time had rushed by. She quickly got up and took her now empty plate, strutted over to the sink and was about to wash it when Tom's voice stopped her.

"Don't even think about turning on the sink, [Y/N]. Let me do this" the soothing yet amused tone in his voice made the assistant roll her eyes and simply place her plate in the empty sink and turn around with a defeated look on her face. "Fine! But I better get going then, thanks again for the meal, it was delicious".

Tom grinned at her and joined her at the sink, both of them washing their hands before drying them and making their way out of the kitchen. "It was my utmost pleasure, [Y/N]". No words were spoken after that as the assistant collected her purse and made her way to his front door, feeling like she was floating on cloud nine.

"Let me know when you get home safely, okay?" Tom whispered while surprising her again with another gentle hug, his arms and hands welcoming her delicate body again. All poor [Y/N] could do was nod her head and close her eyes for a few seconds, no thoughts clouding her head as she lost herself into the embrace.

"Goodnight" she then whispered while pulling away, looking one last time at his handsome face before creating some space in between them, her heart feeling like it was about to combust into flames. "Goodnight beautiful, thank you for being you" Tom whispered, the sparks glistening in his eyes as he watched his assistant bite her lip to prevent herself from grinning like an idiot.

The two of them shared another gentle moment before [Y/N] turned around and left Tom's home. He watched her walk down the front porch and to the drive in where her car was parked. The man couldn't keep his eyes away from her, she was all he could think about and he couldn't stop whispering her name every few seconds while watching her drive off into the night... 

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-Emmanuelle 💋❤️

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelson #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston x plus size reader #tom hiddleston x plus #plus size reader

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

golden power; never wielded

my first work for @ninjago-angst-week! prompt - abandoned (16/08) Lloyd's never known what it's like to share his heart with another, linking two lives together as if one had found the melody to their chorus, now a song in perfect harmony. If he’d always felt like he was invisible; wondered if there was something fundamentally wrong with his inability to touch others’ hearts, then, well, that was no one’s business but his own. Of course, that was before he quite literally fell for someone - the first person, actually - who seemed to care. Of course she was too good to be true. Or, the S8 angst I've been wanting to write about 'game of masks' and the aftermath. trigger warnings - suicidal thoughts, brief mention of implied self-harm, not really a warning but it talks a lot about loneliness. "How did you know?"

"It's an Oni Temple. It's safe to assume that only an Oni could take it."

"No. How could you know that I was part Oni?"

How could you know that I was part Oni?

The question repeated itself in his mind, echoing into the blizzard.

Sometimes, he wondered what would've gone down at the temple if he hadn't been so observant.

Well, he thought bitterly, probably not the temple itself.

The walls collapsing, he'd caught a glimpse of his terrified face as the room filled with swirling inky blackness, freezing him to the bone.

But the real pain came from her words.

Ah. Your emotions. You can't get rid of them, can you?

No, he'd wanted to yell, staring listlessly at the shaking grey semblance of sky.

He'd always felt like he wielded the element of light; invisible, trapped behind a barrier that no one cared enough to break. Isolated; locked away from the world. Longing for - yearning for - a single soul to want to know his heart. Pain that almost felt tangible, bleeding into every motion, every day.

Everyone else seemed to find it so easy - so effortless - simple as breathing, taken for granted like it was ingrained into their bones. Everyone else seemed to have given away a little piece of their heart - to their parents, friends, or lovers.

The fact that his was, and had always been, entirely whole?

He was either cursed, the venom from the Great Devourer passed down to him, or there was something fundamentally unlikable coursing through his veins.

By this point, he assumed it was the latter.

Maybe, if anyone had ever cared - wanted to know him - he'd never have felt like it was pressing down on his chest like a casket; a useless block of ice that no one wanted, not even the unfortunate owner it'd been given.

If no one would know his heart, he'd thought, grabbing a forgotten map, he'd strike fear into theirs - until they knew what it was like to sob into invisible barriers, to gaze upon the world with a weary eyes and a heart heavy with the knowledge that if they vanished, no one would even notice.

He'd realized far too late that he had unleashed an evil that couldn't be controlled - or one that could only be controlled by his- by someone else that had sunk beneath the darkness until no light remained-

He'd escaped from the crumbling casket, energy and eyes blazing - only to find that Har- she'd already escaped with the mask.

The Oni Mask of Hatred.

As they had steered the boat through the river, her sweet smile hiding lie upon lie, he'd thought it was somewhat ironic - two lovers, seeking a literal manifestation of hatred.

He'd laughed bitterly; no mirth in the sound.

After his first crush had - well, literally tried to crush him, he didn't think that this day could get much worse.

Until she dropped him into a contraption that was the stuff of nightmares - leaving the others with a seemingly impossible choice.

He'd wanted to yell, scream, that they should save his mother - he'd hurt enough people over the course of his short life, as evidenced by the grief-stricken orphan yelling a foreign language right in front of him.

I'm the expendable one! Maybe she was right - it was my fault the Serpentine were able to release the Great Devourer. And it took thousands of lives - but never the life of the one who was to blame.

He'd grabbed the vengestone bars, the faint sense of numbness they brought a welcoming relief from the storm of emotions that- he honestly had no clue what to do with.

i could drown, he had thought briefly, fleetingly. what if i drowned and i never hurt anyone again-

you have  a responsibility, even though you've pretty much failed to uphold it so far

"Clotho venge! Clotho decer! Clotho haeed!"

Shoving the thought to the back of his mind, he'd gripped the bars tighter, ignoring the sting of the metal against skin.

If anything, he'd welcomed the sting.

Any pain was better than the agonizing reminder that his heart was, and had always been, entirely whole.

He didn't even realize he was trembling until he heard his father's voice echoing from the vortex.

His father hadn't asked to be bitten by an evil snake, the venom coursing through his veins for years upon years. He hadn't asked to be dumped at a boarding school for bad kids, spending what he had left of his childhood hiding in empty classrooms or yelling empty threats as his classmates snickered.

Against all odds, they'd been reunited. Evil snakes, Fangblades, even Jade Blades - none of it had stood between them.

Just when he thought they might have a future - he might have a- a family - the Cursed Realm decided to curse them all.

His father with imprisonment, him with a life devoid of a father he'd loved, at the end.

Now H- she wanted to resurrect him?

His father had been so much more than the Oni blood in his veins. So was he.

But if he was completely Oni-

Lloyd didn't like their odds. He kind of hated them.

"Clotho venge! Clotho decer! Clotho haeed!"

---

A few chaotic hours later... they'd won? They'd won.

The Sons of Garmadon (he'd always thought the name was kind of ironic - he, the only son of Garmadon, wasn't in their crazy biker gang) had been imprisoned by courageous, if a bit overzealous, taser-wielding policeman.

Ninjago was celebrating - everyone was; he should be, too.

Should he really revel in their victory, though? It was his fault that she'd been able to snatch the last mask, all the safeguards the Oni had put in place practically worthless because of his stupid feelings-

H- Harumi had been thrown in one of the police vans.

"You're right - this isn't me," she'd started, her meekness almost convincing him that she really was the girl he'd fallen for - the girl who'd been forced into a mask she never wanted to wear, but someone who still cared about the world... and- and about him.

"Stop."

He'd cut her off, the venom in his tone surprising both of them.

"Save it for someone who cares," he'd forced out, the hurt welling up his chest almost as painful as their unceremonious descent into the jungle, (the descent she'd orchestrated, he'd thought fleetingly, squeezing his eyes together) unable to believe that this- this liar was the same sweet girl he'd fallen for.

With that, he slammed the door of the van, locking her in - wishing that locking his memories away could be easy.

She'd never cared about him; simply needing to use him as if he was nothing more than the power he wielded.

He watched one of the policemen drive her away, the tired-but-enthusiastic cheers of his teammates nothing more than background noise; static.

Vaguely, he realized that his heart wasn't quite whole - he'd given a piece of it to someone whom he had thought would link theirs together in harmony, the melody to his chorus; what he'd been searching for ever since he'd woken up screaming in a 'boarding school' that seemed more like a prison.

She'd taken more than what he'd given - draining the light from his entire being as if she was the Overlord, stealing his golden power without a shred of remorse.

That failure was practically painless, compared to her-

An almost unfamiliar emotion slowly stated to replace the ache in his chest that he'd grown used to for all those years; it'd become comforting, even. Watching the world go by with a heart that seemed more like a curse, he briefly, fleetingly, wondered if he'd be better off without one.

If there was ever a problem that presented itself to Nya while she worked on the Bounty, she used to joke that it'd be easier to just dump their entire hard dive into the sea.

Destruction seemed to be easier than fixing, he conceded - the van now just a glimmer of bright light; one of the many that made up their vibrant city.

"How did you know?" he heard, yet again wondering how he felt so disconnected from his own role in the memory.

How had she known? 

The whisper of a voice long gone bled into his consciousness, his hands shaking at his sides even as the city celebrated.

Why had he even asked that?

Plastering a smile on his face as he walked over to his teammates, the question repeating itself in his mind, echoing into the blizzard.

FSM - she didn't need to be leader of a biker gang to know that.

Who could ever give their heart - the epitome of human connection; golden power all on its own, albeit of a different kind - to an Oni?

Maybe he wasn't the one trapped behind an invisible wall, built on tears and loneliness and yearning and heartache and a lone question - why? Why could no one seem to look past the cage he felt himself trapped in, observing the world rather than playing a part in it.

He hadn't been a- abandoned by everyone, he realized, a weary sense of clarity and shadowed eyes not sure to accept it or push it into the back of his mind like the hours he'd spent there, as if he'd ever want to have hurt his teammates like he did, the twisted ghost-

He trailed behind his teammates as they sang - horribly off key, his mind pointed out, forcing a small smile onto his face - lost in the figurative blizzard, despite the fact that the sun's rays had only vanished a few hours ago.

If no one would know his heart?

FSM - could he really blame them?

(if you read this far, thank you so much, you’ve made my day:D)

#lloyd garmadon #ninjago angst week #harumi #sons of garmadon #ninjago fic #ninjago #lloyd

[lulu-zodiac]

Title: Blue Ink

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: College AU, Tattoo Artist!Cas, Fluff, Pining, First Kiss

Summary: And then, with the same tender carefulness with which he’d just been tattooing Dean, Cas leans in and kisses him.

If you want to be added to my fic tag list, let me know! <3.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Dean eyes the needle in Cas’s hand apprehensively, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. They’re both sitting facing each other on Dean’s bed, the lights low and Zeppelin playing softly on the record player.

Cas’s blue gaze flickers up to catch his, amused and reassuring all at once. “Dean. You’ve watched me do this plenty of times.” It’s true: Cas trained as a tattoo apprentice for part of his art course last semester, and since then has informally tattooed a bunch of their friends at parties, as well as himself. Dean has been pestering him to give him one for months.

“I know, I know,” Dean hedges, fiddling with the bedspread. “It’s just –”

“It’s normal to be nervous, you know,” Cas tells him, “You don’t need to do this if you don’t want to,” his eyes are suddenly serious, regarding Dean closely, soft blue and familiar in a way that tugs at Dean’s heart. “And if you want to stop at any point, I’ll stop.”

“Christ, I’m not some blushing virgin, Cas,” Dean rolls his eyes, mainly to cover up the way his heart is suddenly fluttering in his chest. “Just get on with it, okay?”

Cas rolls his eyes right back at Dean and rolls up the sleeves of his vintage patterned shirt, exposing the intricate ink on his own arms. “Alright, give me your arm, then.”

Hesitantly, Dean holds it out and Cas’s fingers grasp it reassuringly, warm and dexterous and familiar. His heart rate picks up further, not entirely from the prospect of being tattooed for the first time. Swallowing, he watches Cas swab his bicep with alcohol and pick up the marker that’s sitting on Dean’s bedspread.

Cas leans in, head bowed in concentration, fingers skilled and precise as he inks the outline of the sigil on Dean’s skin. This close, Dean can smell the distinct muskiness of Cas’s skin, the way the patchouli incense he always burns clings to his tousled hair. Dean has to force himself to concentrate on the image taking form under Cas’s touch, resisting the urge to lean in closer than he should and do something monumentally stupid like brush Cas’s hair away from his face or kiss him.

“Alright?” Cas’s low, gravelly voice breaks Dean’s spiralling thoughts. He glances up fleetingly, a flash of dark blue that has Dean’s heart racing. They’ve been friends for years now, but the rush is still the same, the thrill of being this close to Cas. Fleetingly, he wonders if it’ll ever change.

Wordlessly, Dean nods.

They’d met at freshers’, at some house party thrown by someone Dean doesn’t remember. Dean had known he was a goner the moment he glanced up and found Cas’s blue gaze on him, quiet and intent, head tilted slightly, watching Dean like he was fascinated, like he could somehow really see him. They’d flirted that night, but when Dean next ran into him Cas had made a whole speech about not wanting to date anyone, and so Dean had tried to put how Cas made him feel out of his mind. By the time Cas finally dating people last year, they’d already fallen into the pattern of friends and Dean couldn’t stand the risk of losing him to some stupid crush that had no guarantee of working out.

Slowly, though, it’s felt increasingly like they’re edging into this, into something more. Cas spends most of his evenings round at Dean’s, and Dean often looks up to find Cas’s gaze on him, as intent as that first time but laced with something different now; warmer, heavier. It makes Dean’s stomach do cartwheels. It’s got to the point where he doesn’t trust himself not to say something both of them might regret, so he’s started deliberately distancing himself from Cas to protect their friendship. This is the first time they’ve been alone like this for a few weeks, and the quiet tension between them seems to have deepened rather than dissipated. With a not insignificant degree of panic, Dean wonders how he’s going to get through this, Cas’s hands all over him, without doing something stupid.

“Tell me about the design again,” Cas says quietly, interrupting Dean’s internal panic. The cold wet nib of the pen tickles Dean’s skin, slow and careful. Dean watches his hands move expertly, long fingers with chipped black nail polish that Dean finds inexplicably sexy.

“Uh, it’s from the mythology on divine beings I’m looking at for my dissertation,” Dean forces himself to look away from Cas and breathe, trying to calm the thump of his heart and the heat blossoming through him. “An ancient sigil. Enochian, it’s called.”

“Like this?” Cas is frowning, examining his work.

“Yeah,” Dean nods, a little breathlessly. “That’s perfect.”

“Alright,” Cas clicks the cap on the marker and looks up, blue eyes glittering, “Ready?”

Dean swallows, “As I’ll ever be.”

Cas smiles, tightens his grip on Dean’s bicep and leans in again, this time with the needle. “First few moments will sting, but after that it’ll fade, I promise,” he says, eyes searching Dean’s. “Let me know if you want to stop.”

Dean nods, biting his lip. The first pierce of the needle does sting, but it’s not as bad as he imagined, and it soon numbs into vague, prickly discomfort. The downside of this is that Dean isn’t as distracted from Cas’s proximity as he’d like. The sooty sweep of Cas’s lashes, his full lips slightly parted in concentration, his rumpled hair. He’s wearing his shirt unbuttoned and Dean can see a distressing amount of smooth, toned skin, the tangle of pendants round his neck, including the one Dean gave him for his last birthday. Cas had been quiet when he’d opened it, had hugged Dean so hard it hurt a little. It makes Dean’s chest ache just thinking about it now, about this fleeting moment where Cas had just looked at him like he wanted him too, like something was going to happen. But neither of them had made a move, and Dean has always wondered if he’d read too much into it.

“Okay?” Cas asks quietly above the sound of the needle, not looking up.

Dean nods dazedly, before he remembers Cas can’t see him. “Yes – yeah,” he mumbles stupidly, dizzied by the strong grip Cas has around his arm, the tenderness in his touch and the care with which he tattoos Dean. “Yeah.”

“You’re doing so good,” Cas murmurs, and god, he’s so close that Dean can feel the warmth of Cas’s breath against his skin along with the heat that blossoms through him at Cas’s praise. “So good, Dean,” he strokes his thumb along Dean’s skin where he’s holding his arm in place, sending sparks shooting through Dean.

“Uh,” Dean grunts, because Cas’s praise has turned him from low level horny to uncomfortably hard in his jeans. He shifts slightly on the bed, breathing hard. His arm is aching dully, but all he can think about is Cas’s hands on him, Cas warm and familiar and so goddamn close Dean feels dizzy with the proximity. He watches dazedly as black ink slowly appears on his skin under Cas’s careful hands.

“It’s halfway there, almost,” Cas glances up, maybe planning on reassuring Dean – but something unreadable passes over his expression as he takes in Dean’s face, the flush Dean can feel on his cheeks and how he knows his pupils must be blown wide.

For several, long beats they just look at each other, and it suddenly feels impossibly quiet, even with Zeppelin humming in the background. Cas hasn’t let go of where his hand curls around Dean’s bicep, palm a brand of heat against his shoulder. The sexual tension in the air between them is almost unbearable, years of almost crammed into a single, charged moment.

Dean watches the way Cas’s eyes darken slowly, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips unconsciously. He always looks gorgeous, but right now in the soft light of Dean’s bedroom with dishevelled hair and hooded eyes and inked skin, he’s so beautiful Dean aches with it.

“Cas –”

“I’m going to finish this,” Cas says, at last, voice even rougher than usual, sending a thrill of arousal through Dean, “And then I’m going to kiss you.”

Dean lets out a sound that might be a breath of surprise or a groan, staring at Cas wide-eyed, heart pounding. Because this, this is all he’s wanted since he first laid eyes on Cas all those years ago and he can’t quite believe it. “Yes,” he murmurs, dazedly. “God, Cas – yes.”

Warmth mixes with the heady darkness of Cas’s expression, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Okay,” he strokes his thumb across Dean’s bicep and turns back to his work, the smile even wider than it was a moment ago.

Dean’s smiling too, he realises, so wide it should hurt but it doesn’t. He winces fleetingly at the sharp point of the needle again, but it soon fades into the background. The muscles in Cas’s forearms are taut, tensed under their ink. Dean looks at the constellation points of ursa major, two lines of Latin poetry, the wildflowers. It doesn’t do anything to help his current state, looking at Cas’s soft, warm skin, picturing it against his on these sheets. Knowing that Cas wants that now too, that it’s not just a fantasy. That maybe Cas has fantasised about him like this too. Dean has to bite his lip against a groan as Cas’s grip tightens slightly, blue ink slowly blossoming under his fingertips.

Cas has moved closer, leaning over Dean to work at a slightly harder to reach spot. One of his thighs is pressed against Dean’s in a warm line that sends arousal shooting through Dean. He shifts slightly against Cas, pressing closer, heart thumping. From the sharp intake of breath, he knows Cas can tell how worked up he’s getting, how affected he is by this.

Cas lets out a sudden breath against Dean’s skin, as though he’s been holding it, and his hand tightens on Dean’s arm again. Dean hears himself let out a sound this time, helpless, rough and low in the back of his throat, and watches Cas’s throat work as he swallows, jaw set in determined concentration. “Cas,” Dean breathes out, shifting again, cock uncomfortably hard in his jeans. “Cas –”

Abruptly, Cas, sits back on his haunches, breathing hard. “I can’t concentrate like this,” his eyes are darker than Dean’s ever seen them, a flush just visible creeping up the exposed skin of his chest. He lets go and sets his materials on the bedside table without moving away from Dean, without letting go. Slowly, not breaking eye contact, Cas leans back in until they’re even closer than before, both breathing unsteadily. Then, with the same tender carefulness with which he’d just been tattooing Dean, Cas leans in and kisses him.

Dean’s heart fumbles a beat in his chest, his world implodes quietly, infinitely. Cas’s mouth is hot and wet and perfect. Dean tangles his hands in Cas’s tousled hair like he’s always wanted to, tugs him closer, all warmth and racing hearts. Cas lets out a low groan against Dean’s mouth and then suddenly Dean is on his back on the bedspread, breathing heavily. It’s the same one they’ve sat on together night after night, all those times Dean wondered if this would ever happen. It should feel surreal, but it doesn’t. It just feels startlingly real, like this was always inevitable.

They kiss until Dean’s jaw is aching, until they’re both breathless and grinding against each other like they’re still teenagers. When they pull apart a little to catch their breath, Cas’s eyes are shining with the same quiet happiness threatening to overwhelm Dean, full of the same longing that Dean has spent years trying to hide. Dean’s heart suddenly feels so full it hurts, and the moment turns serious, quiet, as they lose themselves in each other’s gazes just like that first night they met. Gently, Dean traces the line of Cas’s jaw, and when he pulls him in again, the kiss is searing, poignant, so full of promise it should terrify Dean, but it only makes his heart beat harder. Cas’s hands are all over his skin, more memorable than any ink.

#reorganising all my fics onto tumblr! #feedback makes me smile like an idiot at my screen <3 #destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fluff #destiel au #deancas #dean winchester #castiel #destiel fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn #superntural #spn fandom #my stuff #my posts: fanfic

[voltagesmutter]

Jumin x MC - Sleepy Sex.

Pairing: Jumin Han

Fandom: Mystic Messenger 

Prompt: Sleepy sex || Religion Kink || Mirror Sex

Warning: Fingering, sleepy sex, marital bliss, vaginal sex, internal cumshot, Me just being weak for a new man, references to Jumin story-line and plot.

Note: 2nd to last piece for Kinktober from @alloveroliver​​, please accept sweet tender Jumin as apologies for Pet-play Jumin.

The autumn breeze blew outside, sweeping fallen leaves from the floor and swirling them around the air. Trees rustled and branches swayed, couples wrapped up in warm coats and wool scarves matched with gloves to keep warm in the hazy glow of the morning sun. A thin layer of frost, barely visible to the eye, settled across the grass. Making it glisten in the rising sun's light. 

But the slowly waking up of outside caused no stir for a couple in bed. Too busy embraced in sleep to notice the changes going on out in the world. Too lost in their own blissful paradise to acknowledge anything else but themselves. 

The Manor House was silent apart from the gentle noise of breath softening, Jumin slowly stirring awake. A natural for him to be up early due to Elizabeth the Thirds feeding schedule but this time, he stayed exactly where he was. Pulling his lover, whose back was curled into his chest, tighter towards him and burying his nose in the crook of her neck. In-hailing and savouring her scent, rose perfume mixed with lingering wine, the scent of her was his favourite. The scent of home, warmth, love and protection. 

The arm around her waist kept her close as she mumbled slightly, a tiny yawn escaping her lips as her eyes slowly fluttered open. The floor to ceiling curtains draped shut, allowing only a teasing peak of the light outside into the room. A ‘Good Morning’ was muffled into the pillow as she shifted back, no inch of separation between them. 

“Good morning Mrs.Han,” Softly whispered, followed by lips pressed to the crook of her neck. Earning a deeply content smile from the corner of her lips as the arm around her waist squeezed her waist slightly.

“It still feels strange being called that,” Her voice a little hoarse, drifting in between the realm of sleep and being awake. 

“You have the rest of your life to get used to it,” He hummed, his matching smile visible against her neck. The light scratch of his barely visible stubble rubbing against her skin, a flood of soft giggles leaving her lips each time it tickled against her.

“Mmm I like the sound of that,” His left arm over her waist lifted to find her left hand, intertwining his fingers over hers just beneath her chin. A fresh set of gold wedding bands both on their rings fingers, placed under twenty fours ago in an extravagant affair in front of close friends and family. A little over a year of being together, they had married in the glow of the fall sunset beside the lake of the stately manner. 

Jumin had never been looking for love, he’d never even been looking for a relationship. Whenever anyone, his father, would press into the matter of his love life he would shut them down instantly. He cared none for the rumours spread by the media of his sexuality, the teasing of his friends, the snarky comments by his father. All he cared for was himself, his working effort and most importantly Miss Elizabeth the Third. 

That was until she came into his life…

A joyous whirlwind of emotions, bringing a new way to view life to his normally bleak world. She brought colours into his world, teaching him over message and voice calls how optimistic life can be without having full control. How to let loose on the grip of holding the reins so tight. She supported him through the rocky road of the pushing ‘engagement’ between him and Sarah, supported him to finally stand up to his father, the running away of Elizabeth. Helping him to cope with his emotions rather than perusing through regretful and dominating actions to keep in charge of everything in his life. 

Their involvement in each other’s life and relationship developed rapidly within the first two weeks of her entering his life, staying at his for safety before the RFA party causing great concern for the others. Only they had the most wonderful of evenings, sharing a bottle of wine in front of open fire whilst engaging life stories and personal moments. Jumin went as red as the vintage wine in his hand when she kissed his cheek to say goodnight, mind and emotions racing from dusk till dawn. Minute by minute she became of importance to his life, the night she stayed with him was the night that he released how he felt. That she was the one for him, the only woman to be interested in him and not his money or father. 

They finally became a couple at the RFA event the following days after, Jumin unable to hold himself back. Breaking his normal composter as he came clean without how he felt, how she had affected him and stirred feelings in him that he’d never felt before. She responded with her own reciprocal feelings, her lips meeting his on the outside balcony. The party seemed miles away rather than just behind the closer doors as they lost themselves in each other. Jumin finally breaking apart to tell her, “I think… Miss. Elizabeth and I would like it if you would could our home, yours”. She moved in with him that night. 

“Say it again,” She sighed softly, giggling to feel his lips press against the base of her neck. One of his favourite hidden places to kiss her. 

“You looked even more beautiful than ever yesterday,” His lips moving up her neck. “Simply exquisite,”. His lips found the soft spot beneath her ear as nuzzled her hair out of the way with his face. She let out a pleasant hum, her eyes falling onto the sheer white dress she had worn. Skin tight bodice with lace trailing from her shoulders down to her wrists, a flowing silk skirt that touched the ground. A price tag that made her eyes water, but Jumin insisted he would pay whatever for the wedding. That her happiness was worth every penny. Not that she demanded or wanted a big white wedding, all she wanted was him and all he wanted was her.

���You looked rather handsome yourself Mr.Han,” Unable to hold back the gasp in her throat as he moved back down to her neck. Lips pressing over and over until they sucked down on a spot, a spot he knew made her knees weak. 

Letting go off her left hand to push the blankets keeping them warm away, settling his hand on top of her thigh which was pushed up against his. “It seems such a shame to waste such a beautiful outfit,” A slight drop of his normal soft voice to be replaced with a huskier tone. His reference to the silk nightgown she was wearing, crystal white with trimmed lace over her breasts and settling just beneath her thighs. Whilst they’d been intimate many a time in their relationship, practice for the wedding night as Zen would cheekily refer to it. The couple was still to consummate their marriage. The mixture of high excitement and aged wine caused them both to fall asleep in each other’s embrace. 

A different type of martial bliss than what was expected.

“What do you say we take full advantage of it…” A rock of hips against her making her gasp at the hardness pressing against her. His fingertips tracing up her thigh and disappearing under the material of her night gown. A boldness and need that grew with his confidence during their relationship. Slowly pushing the material up, exposing her bareness underneath causing a low growl from her husband. His hand curling over her front to settle between her slightly parted thighs. Deft fingers teasing brushing over her sex to already feel the wetness of her slit, still in complete awe to feel how wet she already was from his teasing touches, simple words and gentle kisses, “Mrs.Han,”.

“-Jumin!” A gasp filling the quiet air, a finger coaxed in her arousal being pushed into her, another following shortly after. Continuing to kiss and gently nip over her neck, leaving the faintest trail of bites upon her skin- he was never a fan of leaving large physical marks upon her. His fingers continued to work inside her, pulling out every so often to circle over her clit before rejoining back inside her. His other hand curled beneath her body, tugging the dainty straps off her shoulders to free her breasts. The weight of them heavy in his palm, grasping with the feather like touches as he worked her slowly to climax. She came in gentle waves over his fingers, unable to stop his name falling from her mouth as hers hips jutted back. The added pressure of her bucking back against him caused low groans against her neck, ones that made her core tighten and her body shiver in anticipation with that was to come.

Neither of them were able to be apart any longer, her negligee tossed off her body quickly whilst Jumin stripped from his long pyjama top and trousers behind her. Resuming their position as skin pressed against skin, Jumin curling around her body from behind as they lay on their sides. Tiredness completely torn from either of them, the need to be one with their lover was empowering their thoughts. 

His already leaking head pressing against her core. Never had he had such physical urges, she brought out his inner primal needs. The desire to fill, to thrust, to love was consistently on his mind. 

Slowly pushing into her, pulling out after every inch, savouring the way her body moulded to him. The grip of her walls before they loosened, each time he pulled out he thrusted in a little further until finally her dripping cunt swallowed him whole. Sheathing himself inside her, inside his wife. Raw. Unbridled passion. Lust. Every emotion of love coursing from their veins, skin tingling on fire with the slow rocking of his hips up against her, a steady rhythm falling into place. The bed giving away their morning passion, it squeaking alongside their breathless moans, as if trying to convey and capture the eternal love they had for each other inside its springs. 

“Jumin!” Her hand instinctively grabbing his wrist as he brought it to circle her clit once more, back arching off her chest. Hips rocking back against his, meeting his every thrust. The slow precision, the calculated angles, all overwhelming her senses as she felt her peak reaching within her once more. The mixture of emotions and his perfected knowledge of her body was too much, unable to hold back the sighs of pleasure, letting the empty room know just how good her husband was too her.

‘I love you’ repeated over like a prayer from both of them, the hand cupping her breast rolling a nipple between his fingers. Her climax hitting her faster than expected, heavy waves of pleasure rolling across her body starting from the tip of her head to the bottom of her toes. Unable to hold back as she shuddered in his hold, body curling at its peak.

Holding her as she trembled in his embrace, the soft sound of clapping skin ringing through the air paired with the quickening breaths of him against the shell of her ear. The low groan that followed, one final push of his hips against her until warmth flooded her. The pulse of him inside her as he gently gripped her waist to keep her flushed against him as he came. 

They stilled in position, for maybe a minute, maybe ten. Neither of them sure as they basked in their blissful afterglow, his arm back around her waist to keep her nestled close to him. Tender kisses with delicate doting words of affection were whispered to her shoulder. The ability to think blanked from their minds, lazing in the sweaty shine of their love. Until finally Jumin pulled himself out of her heat, turning her with a gleaming smile to rest his eyes upon his wife properly for the first time that morning. 

“Mmm, good morning you,” Her eyes half lidded, threatening to shut as she rested her head upon his broad chest, an arm instinctively coming to wrap around her. 

“I wonder how Elizabeth is coping without us, I hope assistant Kang is not over feeding her again,” Concern in his voice, his free hand pushing the hair stuck to his forehead off his face.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” A yawn followed, the warmth of the blanket pulled back to envelope them. The flirting temptation to sleep pulling them back into its embrace.

“Maybe I can ask her to bring her to the airport this afternoon, so we can say goodbye,”.

“Jumin…” Pressing her lips to his chest, eye’s finally shutting, “We’re going on our honeymoon, I’m more than positive Jaehee can look after her for us for two weeks,”.

“Your right… I already have a schedule set up so we can facetime her daily, I’m sure she’ll miss us. I can’t stand that she can’t come, maybe I should invest in cat friend hotels-”

“-Jumin,” She cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips, “No more worrying,”. He didn’t answer back, just turning his head slightly to watch her chest rise and fall. The finger to his lip moved to rest of his shoulder, sprawling over his chest as she drifted back off into a peaceful slumber. His lips curving into a euphoric smile, his world, his meaning for life, his everything, in a tranquil state of blissful contentment resting upon him.

Normally he would rise, dressing and preparing for the busy schedule of the day. But for now, he’d simply stay in bed a little while longer, ready to face the adventures of the day and the rest of his life with her by his side.

Kinktober masterlist here.

#alloverkinktober #kinktober #mystic messenger #mystic messenger smut #mysme #mysme smut #mysme jumin #mystic messenger jumin #jumin han

[seventhstrife]

SubScorp 2021 Day 1: First Kiss

These Grandmasters have ruined my life and I am SO GRATEFUL to the wonderful, brilliant minds at @subscorp-week for making this event!!!

I don’t really post my stuff on tumblr, ever, but I wanted to shamelessly pad the subscorp tag with new content lololol

If you want to read it on AO3, the link is here.

Fic under the cut!

The sudden weight against his upper arm and shoulder startled Kuai Liang and made his hand jerk, dangerously close to dropping the tablet he held.

He glanced sharply to his side and stilled, eyes wide, to see Hanzo slumped against him.

For a brief moment, he thought the worst—that Hanzo was injured somehow, or poisoned, no matter the fact that they had been sitting in companionable silence for the better part of two hours. But he noticed the deep, slow breaths that swelled Hanzo's chest, the smooth, calm set of his features at rest, and knew the truth was far less sinister:

Hanzo had fallen asleep against him.

The realization drew Kuai Liang up short, made deep affection and gratitude swell fit to burst in his chest before he mastered himself and pushed back the sudden, fierce tide of emotion.

Carefully, Kuai Liang set aside his device and reached over to pluck Hanzo's from his limp grasp in his lap to place it on the table before them. They had been going over reports from their clans, compiling the information so that they could compare it against those from General Blade, and they often met to do this; it was dull and mind-numbing at times, but easier to accomplish with company, they'd found, and they were both less likely to procrastinate the work if they did it together.

It wasn't uncommon that such tedious work would stretch into the long hours of the night, and this night was no exception. But this was the first time Hanzo had succumbed to his exhaustion.

And he'd done so in Kuai Liang's presence, no less. The swell of pride could not be wrangled, nor the way he relished this simple, profound display of unthinking trust. It spoke to a level of peace and contentment Kuai Liang had never thought to gain from him, a man who had once been his enemy, a man who had once wished him dead. The ink had dried on their treaty long ago, but it felt as if only now it had cemented.

Kuai Liang cherished every new facet of Hanzo he saw in the days since their alliance, and this proved to be no different. He'd seen Hanzo meditate many times, had even joined him, but he'd never seen him truly in repose.

He knew he should wake Hanzo, call their meeting to a close and encourage him home, but Kuai Liang never claimed not to be a selfish man. It was wrong, undoubtedly, to knowingly linger in a moment of Hanzo's vulnerability, but the warmth of his body pressed close, the soft brush of his hair against his shoulder—he was too compelling.

He had half-expected Hanzo to stir when he'd plucked the tablet from his grasp, but he truly seemed dead to the world. Kuai Liang, hesitant and curious, carefully brought up his arm, gently brushed a lock of hair from across Hanzo's face back over his shoulder where it had come loose from the bun—and still, Hanzo peacefully slumbered on, undisturbed.

A smile twitched on Kuai Liang's lips, a private one of unbearably plain affection. He would never be caught with such an expression, but here, alone in the small hours of the night, he allowed himself this moment.

Hanzo's hands, open and limp in his lap, were another temptation altogether—but he did not dare. He had been lucky, thus far, but he would not be foolhardy.

Only this, Kuai Liang told himself. Such a rare moment of reliance from the normally so disciplined Grandmaster—only extreme overwork and exhaustion had pushed Hanzo this far, and once he woke, Kuai Liang knew this incident would be the only one of its kind.

His heart ached in his chest, bruised and bittersweet, but Hanzo's friendship was something he would not give up for the world.

But the knowledge this moment may very well be the only one that he would ever experience Hanzo's closeness—outside of, perhaps, a spar—gave him courage. Enough that he pressed his lips—just the slightest bit of pressure—to the top of Hanzo's head; his first and last confession.

He regretted the motion the instant it was over. Immediately, he felt the change in the air, the sudden tension in Hanzo's body as he stiffened. It made Kuai Liang respond in kind, utterly still, face drained of blood.

For a moment, they both lingered in that horrible stillness, the silence screaming with panic and dread.

Then, very, very slowly, Hanzo raised his head from Kuai Liang's shoulder. His dark eyes were difficult to meet, but Kuai Liang would not balk, not even from this.

Aside from lifting his head, Hanzo did not move, did not burst into flame or send Kuai Liang crashing through the wall as he half-expected. Yet it was almost worse, somehow, the way he stirred, brows furrowed, expression dark and wary.

Slowly, voice still sleep-roughened, Hanzo spoke.

"...Did you just kiss me."

There was no question, only a flat, emotionless statement that filled Kuai Liang with dread and made him wish dearly for the blow he'd expected.

Mouth dry, already seeing their friendship dissolve before his eyes, Kuai Liang said, just as quietly, "Yes."

Hanzo's eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn't expected the confirmation despite knowing the truth.

He blinked. He searched Kuai Liang's face, but if he was seeking doubt or teasing, or even a lie, Kuai Liang had nothing of the sort to show him, only brutal, unvarnished honesty.

Hanzo glanced away and Kuai Liang braced himself for anything—a gentle rejection, a reprimand. Perhaps only a burst of flame and scorch marks left behind in the spot Hanzo sat.

A quiet breath, and Hanzo met his eyes, the set of his features determined and impassioned.

"Do it again," he commanded.

Kuai Liang was like a mountain, so absolute was his stillness. It was his turn to search Hanzo's face for deception, but there was none to be found, only fire, only a dark smolder—familiar and foreign at once, a dare, a challenge, a promise.

Kuai Liang did not dare try Hanzo's patience with indecision. He forced himself from the tight draw of his body, reached out, fingertips whisper-soft against the short hairs of Hanzo's beard.

"Yes, Grandmaster," Kuai Liang murmured.

For all that he'd longed for a moment such as this, Kuai Liang was unwilling to rush, eager as he was. He pressed his forehead to Hanzo's, soaked in the brush of their noses, of Hanzo's warm breath on his lips, the exquisite expectation that hung in the air, that made his heart slam against his ribs and his hands tremble with the repressed urge to snatch Hanzo close and never let him go—before he came to his senses and realized what he had asked for in his surely sleep-addled state.

But the anticipation compromised years of disciplined training and impatience won out. Kuai Liang tilted his head, just slightly, and kissed Hanzo.

One touch, and Kuai Liang understood why the Lin Kuei had once forbidden attachment. The swell of desire, of aching, near-obsessive addiction, was swift and all-encompassing. Hanzo's lips were warm and dry, just as tentative as his own as they met and parted and met again. And when Hanzo's touch came, one strong fist grasping at the fabric across his chest, Kuai Liang could not stop the tide of fierce, craving want.

Hanzo sucked in a sharp breath when Kuai Liang suddenly surged forward and pushed him back, but he did not resist being pressed to the floor. His arms wrapped around Kuai Liang's shoulders, helped erase even the illusion of distance as their chests met and they sank into one another. Their lips grew bolder, the kiss grew deeper, and it was as if the only air to be had was only what could be found in the other.

Kuai Liang could conceive of nothing more entrancing than the slight hitch of Hanzo's breath when their tongues touched, no sound more seductive than his quiet moans, coaxed out by Kuai Liang's own hands, by his own touch. Nothing had ever enthralled him like the sensation of Hanzo's body, strong and pliant and laid out, willingly, beneath his, nor the silky caress of Hanzo's long hair when he dragged his fingers through it.

Kuai Liang did not regret the reformation of his clan, but for the first time since he'd become Grandmaster, he reflected on the old ways with new understanding. Because this? This bottomless desire, that coaxed all reason from his mind and consumed him absolutely? It felt too good not to be forbidden.

At long last, the annoying, persistent need to breathe pulled their lips away, although they barely strayed more than a few inches as they panted.

Kuai Liang could not drag his eyes away from the rosy flush of Hanzo's skin, the soft flutter of his eyelashes when he opened them, so swept in their passion and only now brought back to reality.

They watched one another a moment, the only sounds to be heard their harsh breaths and the mad thunder of Kuai Liang's heart.

Then, slowly, Hanzo smiled. Pleasure warmed his face into an expression of quiet, almost shy happiness Kuai Liang had never seen before—a smile Kuai Liang had caused.

And when he pressed his lips to Hanzo's again, amidst his low chuckles of happiness, Kuai Liang was smiling, too.

#my stuff #my fics #subscorp week #subscorp week 2021 #@subscorp-week #@summertrapped #@maagspies #subscorp #fluff #first kiss #gen #subscorpweek

[dannys-phantoms]

Doorways

DannyMay 2021 Day 5: Doorway

Read also on AO3

Sam and Tucker are directed to a special place in the ghost zone, and told to look around. They would never have guessed the things they see.

AKA Danny gets a lair

(Everlasting Trio)

To say that Danny got detentions often would be an understatement. Normally it was something that he could have probably avoided, like by actually doing his homework or not playing on his phone in class, but this time it was different. He’d fallen asleep on his desk – again – because he’d stayed up all night chasing Johnny 13 and his shadow all over Amity Park until all three of them were too tired to continue. And then, of course, when he was finally getting ready to tuck himself into bed, his ghost sense had gone off again. It’s a wonder that kid ever got any sleep.

Lancer had taken one look at him drooling on the desk and that was it, Danny Fenton would be staying late. It made sense, really, because he had an obligation to teach a certain syllabus, and it was obvious that Danny needed something a little more... fine tuned. Even so, Sam and Tucker both were in agreement that it couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

They loved hanging out together even just as a duo, of course. They did it all the time. Three was never a crowd with them, but two was nice as well. When there’s only two, they’d never have to vie for attention, or wonder if they’re somehow third wheeling in their three-way love story.  The reason they were missing Danny was for something else entirely. It was probably something to do with the eight-foot wolfman that had appeared in the middle of Tucker’s room.

He’d just been showing off his latest PDA (she’s called Norah, in case you were wondering) and Sam had been sufficiently engaged (enjoying seeing him happy more than she was actually following the conversation) when three jagged gashes had opened up between them, green and shimmering in the air and tempting a glimpse into the ghost zone. Then, the rift expanded and the creature swung through, landing heavily on his paws.

“Hi, Wulf,” said Sam, hesitantly.

He put a paw on Sam’s shoulder, and Tucker tensed as though he was ready for a fight. They were all friendly enough, of course, but it’s difficult not to be wary with those claws so close to someone’s face.

“Saluton, amikoj,” Wulf greeted, before pushing both of them through the portal he’d just made. “Vi volos ĉirkaŭrigardi antaŭ ol li revenos!”

They landed hard, and before they could look up to ask what exactly he meant, the portal was closed again. If only they’d put more effort into their Esperanto.

It was a wonder they weren’t both sinking through the floor, humans that they were, but Tucker decided not to dwell on it. There were unquestionably going to be weirder things going on here than that.

The hallway itself looked perfectly normal. Green, of course, but normal. They’d been deposited near the top of a set of stairs, and ahead of them were a series of wooden doorways. Under their splayed fingers was soft carpet.

It wasn’t a house they recognised but it quite easily could have belonged to a neighbour, or a schoolmate. It looked so laughably ordinary that they weren’t quite sure what to do with themselves.

The door closest to them creaked back on its hinges, opening a fraction to let a gust of warm wind through. It wavered for a few seconds before gliding almost to a close again.

Sam got to her feet with a sigh and offered a hand to Tucker. After she’d pulled him to his feet, neither of them let go.

The doorway was wooden and grained, looking more like her own kitchen door than one to a ghost realm. She squeezed Tucker’s hand and pushed it open.

She didn’t know what she’d expected, not really, but she knew it wasn’t this. Despite not having been for years, she still recognised the streets of Point Pleasant, West Virginia, deep in the throes of the Mothman Festival.

Nobody knew how much she’d treasured her memories of this place. Nobody except her boyfriends, that is. Even her own parents didn’t know that she dreamed of it almost every night.

It wasn’t a perfect replica of the place. It was as if the architect had merely been told about it, rather than having seen it themselves. Nevertheless, it was enough to have her mouth hanging open. There were pairs of red eyes everywhere, staring at her from every shop front, every costume, every street decoration and even from the foods in the signature Mothman pizza stores and bakeries. The live band was playing eerie music and, when she really stopped to look, she could have sworn that something was watching her from the trees.

If Sam could have chosen a heaven, a place to let her soul spend an eternity, she would have chosen here.

Tucker blinked owlishly behind his glasses. “Sam,” he said, in awe. “Is this...?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “It is”.

The music was pulsing around her, lulling her into a dance. Arms and legs and wings spun from every side as the crowd moved towards the bronze cryptid statue in the centre of the square. She’d not smiled like this for years. It was as if she was delirious. Someone offered her a Mothman lollipop, and she took it without hesitation.

Tucker took it from her gently as she began to wrestle with the wrapper. “It’s too dangerous. We still don’t know what’s going on. This could all be a trap.” He winced apologetically and, even though she tried to argue, she knew he was right.

She steeled herself and took his hand, marching back into the green hallway and pulling the door shut behind her. As soon as the latch clicked, it was silent again.

“Come on, let’s keep going.” Her voice was shaky.

Behind the next door was a meadow lined with trees. Here, it was the middle of spring. The pollen tickled both of their noses, and they quickly retreated before the hayfever could truly set in.

On the other side of the hall was a bright red door. Tucker reached for the handle, but Sam held him back.

“Red means danger, smartypants.”

“Awe, you do care,” he replied jovially. Then, he quirked an eyebrow and sent her the finger guns. “Red also means love.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help her lips quirking in a smile. “I’m being serious, Tuck.”

“As am I.”

He reached forward to open the door, and then immediately stepped back again as he got a wave of vertigo.

They were at the top of a huge drop slide, which was the same shiny red as a circus big top. There were a queue of ghost children lining up, but they all stepped aside, beckoning Tucker to go first.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Sorry, Sammy,” he replied, “but this is just too awesome.”

He sat down on the side and then launched his body forwards, sending it into the oxymoronic state of controlled freefall that left him feeling as light as a bird. It was as though all of his worries were flying from the top of his head. He felt a laugh bubble free and crossed his arms over his chest, equal parts Egyptian mummy and child at a water park.

The drop gradually began to round off, until he slowed down and crashed into a ball pit at the bottom. He’d been falling for what felt like forever.

Sam slid to a stop next to him. “Never, and I mean never, do that to me again.”

Her hair was mussed and her breathing was heavy. He declined to point out that she’d followed after him, even though she’d thought it unsafe. It left a warm fluttering feeling in his belly.  

“I won’t.” He smiled.

The ballpit took off, zooming high into the air until they were at the top of the dropslide again. The sudden motion would normally have made them queasy, or at the least lightheaded, but it didn’t. One second they were at the bottom and the next they were at the top. It was more like the space had moved around them.

Tucker looked longingly at the slide, wanting to go again, but Sam grabbed his hand and pulled him back through the door. It would do no good to linger too long in one place.

The door right at the end of the hallway was glowing around the edges, as though there were nothing but lamps on the other side. Sam made a move towards it. What could this one be? A beachside paradise, perhaps? The light room of a photography studio?

She was inches away from the doorknob when she heard a familiar whoosh. A ghost portal. From the look on Tucker’s face, he’d heard it too.

They looked towards the stairway behind them as it was illuminated in a green glow, gone as quickly as it had arrived. Then, there were whisper-quiet footsteps.

They were both rooted in place. Every instinct suggested they should run, but where to? You can’t hide from a ghost in it’s own lair.

Soon though, a shock of white hair appeared over the banister, then a pair of slouched shoulders clothed all in black.

“Danny?” Tucker said incredulously.

The ghost whipped around, immediately at high alert with an ectoblast ready to go. He only fractionally calmed down when he saw who was there.

“Shit, Tucker? Sam? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Sam said dryly.

“I’m not ready for you guys to be here yet. I was waiting for the right time... have you been following me?”

“What?” Tucker said. “Danny, no, of course not. Wulf brought us here. Said something about looking around before ‘he’ comes back.”

Danny slumped, hand on his forehead. “Dammit, Wulf. That’s the last time I trust him with a secret. How much did you see?”

“Not enough for it to make sense,” Sam said, arms crossed. “Where the hell are we?”

Danny sighed, then looked her in the eye. He looked defeated. “Its my lair. Its not done yet, not by a long shot, which is why I didn’t want to show you –”

“Wait, what? I thought only full ghosts could have a lair.” Tucker’s brow creased.

Danny let out a hollow laugh. “Who knows what halfas can do, really? It’s not like there’s enough of us to study. This place is half ghost, like me, so I can touch stuff and walk about , no matter that mode I’m in. I’m guessing you can too. It helps, because it means I don’t fall through the bed.”

“The bed?”

“Yeah, it’s just through there.”

He looked between them to the glowing door, which he pushed open with one finger.

They were standing on the edge of open space. A million stars twinkled around them, piercing the blackness like twinkling diamonds on a velvet curtain. A red carpet rolled out in front of them, connecting the hallway to a larger rug, also floating. Below it was a deep chasm, the void never ending.

Danny floated down the carpet, which was rippling in an invisible breeze, and the others followed. It was surprisingly solid.

The rug at the end was covered with bean bags and blankets, and the biggest bed any of them had ever seen, big enough to fit ten people easily. Danny threw himself on top of the plush quilt.

“This is... I didn’t want you to see it, because I didn’t know what you’d think. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

Tucker laughed. “You’re a ghost. If we were going to get scared off, I think it would have happened already.”

“I guess,” Danny smiled sadly. “But... If you’d known my lair was adapting to the wants of all three of us, you could’ve thought maybe it was getting too weird.”

“Are you kidding me? This place is awesome!” Sam flopped down onto the bed next to him.

“I was thinking of asking you to stay here with me. Not all the time, obviously.”

“That would be cool,” Tucker said, trying to hide how excited the prospect made him.

“Think about it, Tuck,” Danny groaned. “You guys don’t belong here. You’re humans.”

“Okay, so maybe it needs a kitchen and a bathroom fitting, but other than that it’s pretty sound.”

“One of those doors opens into a Tomahawk Steakhouse,” Danny smiled.

Sam put her hand in his supportively. “We love you. We’d follow you to the ends of the Earth and beyond, you know that.”

Tucker sat down next to his partners and took Danny’s other hand.

Danny made a mental note to send a ‘thank you’ postcard to Wulf when he next saw him.

#danny phantom #dannymay2021 #everlasting trio #DannyMay #sam manson #tucker foley #danny fenton #wulf #fic #my writing #mine