#...not that you can tell here but i'm not tucking them in bed in full armour

[alackofghosts]

hibernation hours

[seungisms]

🖇️📁 𝐒𝐊𝐙 … 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐔𝐁/𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, do not interact if you’re under 18

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, phone sex, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), orgasm denial, overstimulation, edging, degradation, body worship, dry humping, spanking, cum eating, mentions of period sex, sub/dom dynamics

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: got a bit carried away here cus i've just missed my boys so much, it feels good to be writing for them again :( kiwi!hyunjin was imagined for this cus his shaved head is the sole reason i'm keeping it together rn, sub!jisung 🗣️🗣️🗣️

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 / 방찬 ★ 

king of service tops

he’s such a doting dom and will happily ignore his own needs as he coaxes orgasm after orgasm out of you

will spend hours with his head tucked between your thighs, ignoring the swell of his dick just to make a fucked out mess out of you

pants into your pussy when you whine and claw at the sheets beneath him, large hands keeping your trembling thighs spread open so his tongue can fuck deeper into your cunt

your pretty whimpers making his needy cock leak with precum onto the mattress

groans into your pussy as your hands tangle themselves in his hair, blunt nails leaving dents in the plush skin of your thighs

soso caring and attentive with you

fully aware of the size difference between you and will have to restrain himself from just flipping you over and using your pussy like a fleshlight

but he doesn’t wanna hurt you :(

fucks so gentle

will gently nudge his cock between your dripping folds, looking down at you with the most lovesick look on his stupid face and you’ll just have to look away to focus on the slight stretch of your hole around his thick member before you start begging this man to fuck a baby into you

leaves hot open-mouthed kisses against your neck and chest and traces your hip fondly with his thumb, shushing your small gasps as he stuffs you full

only ever gets rough with you when he’s had a stressful week and hasn’t slept

won’t even bother to greet you as he walks through the door, finding you snuggled up in bed with nothing but one of his tops on and a pair of stupid frilly panties that he wants nothing more than to rip off you

shoves your face into the pillows and props your ass up in the air, rubbing his clothed cock against your pussy

complete 180 from his usual self, will take what he wants and tells you to stfu and be grateful for what he gives you 😔

gets pussy drunk so easily and starts babbling nonsense while splitting you in two

“don’t wanna hear any of your bitching today sweetheart, take it like a good girl.”

“you’re so pretty taking my cock so good.”

fucks into your pussy until he’s made a complete mess of it, creamy and full of cum

even as a sub he’s still dom leaning <3

loves when you take care of him after a particularly hard day

playing with his soft cock as he leans back and watches you through sleepy eyes, soft praises and groans leaving his lips

nearly cums right away when you take him deep into your mouth, nose pressed against his pelvis before pulling off - thumb pressing into the sensitive slit of his cock head and peppering soft kisses on the underside

nearly melts when you run a bath for him to relax his sore muscles, coaxes you to join him and before you know it you’re stuffed to the brim on his lap, claiming it’ll help get rid of his stress and how could you deny this fool :( 

loves that he doesn’t have to do any of the work when you take care of him like this, walls clenching around his fat dick, tits pressed tightly against his chest and tired groans against your neck as your hands card through his wet hair

nuts so quick when he subs

starts apologising all cutely when he does, leaving a tired kiss against your lips and promising he’ll fuck you like he means it next time

this man fucks like an animal after a good nights rest istg

definitely more dom leaning but also loves when you take over now and again and fuck him until he’s empty headed - thinking about nothing but filling up your warm cunt until it’s a sticky used mess

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐇𝐎 / 리노 ★

this man is a hard dom through and through and nothing can change my mind

extremely patronising when he’s dicking you down 

will have his fingers stuffed deep in your pussy, thumb pressing down on your puffy nub as he watches you squirm and whimper against him

gets such a sick glint in his eyes when he hears you cry about how you can’t take anymore, tutting under his breath in mock disappoint - claiming he knows you can give him better than that

will degrade and overstimulate you to the point of tears, just so he can keep hearing those pretty whimpers of yours

“look at the mess you’ve made, haven’t even had a taste of cock yet and you’re acting like such a slut already.”

is so vile and mean with his teasing

spits onto your clit while fucking his fingers into you, curling them and stretching you open - gets such a kick out of the dumb look that takes over your cute face, jaw going slack and hips bucking up to meet the thrusts of his long digits

“god you’re so tight, how are you gonna be able to take my dick when you can barely handle this.”

will edge you towards orgasm again and again before ripping it away from you at the very last second, a smug grin on his face the whole time

loves when you start begging for him

and will literally laugh in your face and call you a ‘pathetic, cock drunk mess’

just absolutely loves overstimulating your cunt with his tongue, fingers, dick - literally anything!! as long as he reduces you to a trembling, babbling state in the end

slaps your clit when you misbehave, giving you a stern look and tutting lowly when you whimper in response 

likes fucking your mouth when he’s in a shitty mood

comes home and slams the door close in frustration, dick swelling against his jeans at the sight of you sitting all sweetly on the sofa waiting for him and before you know it he has his fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back and telling you to get on your knees like a good girl

feeds his cock down your throat and uses the grip on your hair to control your pace, making you take him deep until you’re choking around him

fucking loves the desperate look you get when you’re on your knees for him

and will only fuck your mouth harder when he catches sight of your fingers slipping into your panties, playing with your nub as you suck on his tip

makes you watch as he gets himself off as punishment, ordering you to keep your hands splayed out on your thighs as he fists his cock - catching sight of your fingers twitching in need, just begging to dip back into your hot core

loves keeping you on a leash like the good puppy you are, the need practically seeping out of you and when he finally allows you to sink down on his veiny cock you start whining like a bitch in heat

it’s gonna be hard to fuck the dom out of this one

he’ll constantly fight the idea of being your sub, basically laughing in your face at the thought of you taking control

certainly wasn’t laughing when he wakes up the next day with his hands cuffed to your headboard, eyes narrowing when he spots you sitting all cutely at the end of the bed on your knees

he nearly loses it

"[name], i swear to god if you don’t let me out right now i’m gonna fuck you until you’re begging me to stop.”

“don’t make promises you can’t keep minho.”

istg bro nearly crashes out

especially when you start teasing him about his swollen cock, red and angry and twitching all desperate to feel your pussy wrapped around it

“i don’t know minho, you definitely seem to be liking this.”

and he swears as soon as he’s out of those cuffs your poor little pussy is gonna be wrecked

lowkey loves the sight of you using him though, lifting your pretty little body up before sinking back down achingly slow - warm walls closing in around him and all the fight he seemed to have earlier is nowhere to be found

gets so empty headed the more you torture him - threats turning into suppressed whines, his sneers going slack jawed with pleasure

gets so embarrassed when he cums as soon as he’s in you too

but you best believe as soon as he’s free he’s flipping you over and pounding into you until all your holes are stuffed full of cum and dripping

𝐒𝐄𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍 / 창빈 ★

his dom and sub tendencies constantly overlap like bro pick a struggle 

insanely big switch

like this man will be calling you the most vile shit one minute then cooing softly down at you the next, calling you his pretty girl as if his thick cock wasn’t drilling into you

however he’s extremely dominant when he wants to be

make this man the slightest bit jealous and you’re getting the roughest, nastiest dicking down of your life

make an offhand comment about how much you like watching jisung on stage and he’s dragging you to the nearest dressing room, bending you over some random surface and fucking into you with next to no prep

“you like watching jisung huh? when i’m done with you, you won’t be able to look at anyone but me you slut.”

will fuck you with his tongue and fingers until you can’t take it anymore, kiss swollen lips whining for him to relent yet your hips continuing to grind against his face - and as soon as you finally coat his face slick with your juices and slump against him he’s still pulling your hips towards his mouth, claiming you can take just one more

you love how big and strong your man is and he’ll definitely use that to his advantage 

presses you up against the wall and wraps your legs around his waist, buff arms holding you by the thighs while fucking his veiny cock past your folds

“god you’re so pretty, gonna let me wreck this little pussy, huh baby?” LIKE YES SIR

loves the way you gush around him when he talks to you like that, holding your wrists above your head in a tight grip - watching you struggle agains his hold is so funny to him, he can be so mean :(

loves the sight of you eating his cum idc

and when he cums he cums hard

he’ll literally be wrapped around your finger the moment you lick him clean off his mess, watching the way your pink tongue laps up his softening cock

sometimes after he’s filled your cunt to the brim with his load he’ll slip his soft dick out of your pussy, dipping his fingers past your bud - getting a kick out of the tired gasp that leaves you when he does - thighs itching to close shut before he’s bringing his hand up to your mouth, no words needing to be said before your wrapping your lips around the digits, sucking greedily on your mixed juices

bro nearly cums again just from the sight alone

s w e a r s he’ll treat you so good if you give him just one more orgasm

and how can you deny him when he asks all puppy eyed 🥺

can be extremely needy when he hasn’t seen you in awhile

and will literally do anything you ask 

especially likes when you grab his ass when he fucks you, trying to press him as close as possible to feel every dip and vein of his thick cock as he moans and groans about how good you feel around him

can also get a little teary eyes when you edge him, but he loves it really!!

something about reducing this hunk of a man to nothing but a whimpering, desperate mess makes him so much more fuckable

doesn’t even know what he’s saying half the time

constantly praises you

“fuck your pussy feels so good, could die like this and i’ll be happy.”

“you’re so pretty anent you baby? my pretty girl gonna give me one more orgasm? please, for me?”

bro thanks you when he cums

lowkey you have him wrapped around your finger and he’s not one bit ashamed

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 / 현진 ★

the biggest switch™️

soso degrading with you

but he’s just so pretty while doing it you can’t even find it in yourself to be mad

loves when you dress up in cute little frilly panties just for him to completely ruin them the second he gets his hands on you

and best believe this man loves getting nasty with it - covers you in spit, cum, scratches, everything..

man leaves his mark fr

and don’t ever try to tell him to cut it out cause he’ll just get 10x freakier with it just to spite you

loves getting all messy while eating you out

doesn’t care how much you whine or cry, he’s not stopping until the bed is slick with your cum and hole is properly prepped for his fat cock

king of overstimulation 

makes sure you earn every last orgasm too, if he doesn’t feel you’re being grateful enough he’ll leave you hanging on the edge of cumming again and again

and will literally laugh at you when tears paint your lash line

can’t resist pulling out his camera and snapping a few pictures of you in this state

best believe that thing is filled to the brim of you covered in cum, playing with his cock, taking backshots - EVERYTHING!!

no matter where you are this man is ready to fuck the brat out of you at any given moment

give him lip while out drinking with friends? he’s dragging you to his car to fuck you in the backseat

doesn’t care if its broad daylight either, silences your protests with a rough kiss before pushing his member into you - fingers playing with your nub as he sets a brutal pace

your tits and thighs will be covered in teeth marks

and he just loves the embarrassed pout that takes over your face when you have to shamefully walk back into the bar

your little skirt doing nothing to hide the bruises he left

just knowing your pussy was sticky and full with his cum is enough for him to be hard the rest of the night

something about everyone around you knowing he just fucked the last coherent thought out of you makes him wild

calls you a ‘cock hungry bitch’ and loves slapping your face with the tip of his dick when you’re on your knees begging for it

istg there’s no chill with this man

every holes a goal with him and you best believe each one of them will be abused and stuffed full by the time he’s done with you

give you a lil kiss on the forehead when he’s done though and tells you how good you were for him :(

whenever you try to dominant him he’ll become so bratty and mean 

but won’t admit how much he enjoys you pinning his hands to the bed and fucking yourself on his cock like he’s nothing more than a walking, breathing rose toy

as soon as you show the slightest bit of slowing down though he’s back on you in an instant

cock nudging its way into your sensitive walls, mocking words being groaned into the crook of your neck as you close in around him  

“hmm, thought you could control me? gonna need to fuck that brat out of you.”

kiwi!hyunjin would be so mean lord

𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 / 한 ★ 

sub sub sub

the subbiest boy idc

he just wants to be good for you :( 

will literally do anything you ask as long as the end results in him painting your pretty pussy in his hot cum

whines and whimpers and slutty groans galore

doesn’t sftu

he’s just so pussy whipped

tease this boy in public and he becomes your bitch istg

just the risk alone is enough for his cock to feel heavy against his thigh

and your teasing promises of being able to feel your hot cunt wrapped around him later as long as he continues being a good little pup definitely isn’t helping

so proud of himself for not busting a nut right then and there 

drags you to the nearest bathroom and will b e g you to suck him off and he’ll do anything you ask of him 

“just this once before i go on stage please baby, i swear i’ll be so good for you.”

bro cannot be quiet to save his life, breathy whines echoing through the door without shame as he cums down your throat

doesn’t even care no one can meet his eyes after you both leave, he’s so head empty after you swallow his load, promising he can fuck you however he likes later if just be’s a little more patient and that’s all he can think about 

best believe he’ll be on his best behaviour 

you love watching him try to cover his erection all day, knowing he’ll fuck you like a rabbit as soon as he has you alone

definitely the type to have had cum in his pants from your teasing before

he just gets so excited 

and just the thought of your pretty lips wrapped around his cock alone makes him so flustered :(

gets off on getting you off truly

its pathetic really

there’s something so pitiful about watching him rut and fuck his cock against the mattress as he snuggles his head between those plush thighs of yours

such a giving sub - moans and groans and spits so messily against your heat just from the taste alone, his tip all red and needy and just begging to slip into your core but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t listen to you

is so patient too and completely loses all his cool when you finally sink down on him

whimpers all prettily when you call him your good boy

loves when you degrade him

“god, who knew such a pathetic mess could have such a perfect cock.”

“at least you’re good for something.”

cums within 10 seconds of being inside of you when you talk to him like this

the type to ask “just the tip🥺?” when you’re too tired to have sex

and how could you possibly not let him

can never control himself though and ‘just the tip’ turns into him ‘accidentally’ falling balls deep into you

he’ll apologise while continuing to fuck your pussy like an animal

doesn’t care if you’re on your period or anything, this man wants a taste of you at any given moment

really into cum eating

lowers his head down between your legs as soon as he slips out, eyes blown wide and fucked out

desperate just to get more of you

sucks needfully on your folds, eyes rolling into the back of his head and groaning deeply when the taste of your mixed juices seep out of your hole and onto his tongue 

loves when you stroke his cheek while riding him

telling him how pretty he is and how much you love him

bro is just so whipped

swears his main purpose in life is making sure your pussy is filled and being your sweet boy

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗 / 필릭스 ★

another switch but the complete opposite of hyunjin

big into praise and telling you how good you’re being for him

bro only has one mode and its gentle

worships your body in ways you didn’t even know possible

no inch of skin will be left untouched when this mans lips are on you

calls you pretty pet names like ‘sunshine’ and ‘angel’ while he’s fucking you all soft

no matter how hard he tries he can’t find the will in himself to go rough on you

and every time he tries it’ll literally last like 30 seconds before he’s slipped back into his soft dom role, fucking into you slowly while fond praises fall from his lips - stroking comforting circles on your thigh, keeping your trembling legs propped up on either side of him

loves being as close as possible to you, chest pressed against your own and lips attached to the crook of your neck if they’re not busy moaning against your own

can’t stop commenting on how pretty you are

super soft with you

however 

he’s so

pathetic as a sub

gets all blubbery and wet eyed when you don’t give him what he wants

just begging you to finally let him slip into your heat when you’re rubbing your pantie clad pussy against his naked cock

and he’s so needy and leaking precum onto the fabric, please just have a bit of mercy on this angel!!

tries his best to be patient when you tell him you’ll give him what he wants as long as he lets you have your fun, but this boy is just so desperate and tunnel visioned on your cunt

wanting nothing more than to nudge your panties aside and finally fuck up into you

can quite literally only think with his dick and will constantly rut his hips up to rub the tip of his swollen cock against your clothed clit

apologises falling from his lips in a sob when you scold him for being such a brat 

he just wants to be your good boy :(

he spoils you so much during sex

eats you out for hours on end, not even caring about his member straining against his stomach

will literally let you ride his face until it’s slick with your cum, and as soon as you try to lift yourself off he’s wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you back down

eats you out like its his last meal, deep groans vibrating against your lower lips and tongue and nose nudging against you as he leaves fat swipes against your pussy folds

if you reach down and start playing with his dick while riding his face he’ll have to restrain everything in himself not to bust right away

will blue ball himself as long as he knows you’re properly satisfied 

he’s just such an angel

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 / 승민 ★

such a mean dom

will play with you until you’re reduced to nothing but a teary, fucked out mess

likes watching you get yourself off

and will degrade you the whole time - teasing you with vile words as he watches your fingers fuck into your sloppy cunt

“bet you wish it was my cock filling you up huh? those little fingers aren’t enough to satisfy a cock hungry slut like you, right honey?”

and he can only chuckle lowly when you simply whine in response, eyes glued to the way he was fisting his cock on the armchair in the corner of your room

loves that he’s able to turn you into a twitching, withering whore with his words alone

wants nothing more than to fill you up but he’ll hold out for awhile before giving in, wanting you as desperate as possible for his dick before he finally gives it to you

and god seeing you splayed out, back arched and legs spread ready for his fat cock to split you open is enough to get him off

rips your hand away and f i n a l l y pushes himself past your sensitive nub - the gasp falling from your lip from the slight sting making him harden inside you

and he loves the tears that threaten to spill onto your cheeks, your fingers having done next to nothing to prep you for how thick and heavy his dick feels fitting snugly against your pussy walls

and he gives you no time to adjust either, pulling out just to slam right back in, the tightness and clenching of your cunt around him making him groan into the hot kiss he was planting on you

loves when you ride him too

but you’ll have 0% control best believe

he’ll literally fuck up into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight

and you’re ready for him every time, walls gushing in around him, milking him dry for all he’s got 

likes controlling how and when you’re gonna cum

and absolutely loves pulling as many orgasms as he can out of you before finally sinking his dick into you

especially likes dry humping, seeing you rut down against him like a bitch in heat, cunt melding against his clothed cock making your eyes roll in the back of your head 

nearly fills your womb with his cum at the sight

his hand always finds its way around your neck during sex

pushing down on your airways while drilling his cock balls deep into your cunt, eating up all the little gasps and chokes for air you let out while leaning into his chest - pussy clenching incredibly snug around him he swears he’s seeing stars

makes you clean up your mess every time, shoving his fingers past your lips and feeding you the mix of both your liquids

loves the way your greedily suck on them

makes him want to replace them with his cock again

will spit in your mouth if you misbehave 

and has no qualms leaving a swift slap against your ass if you decide to act bratty

the closest you’ll get to domming this man is if he hasn’t seen you in weeks cause of tour and he’s blue balled tf

maybe, just maybe, he’ll beg a bit 

“c’mon baby, haven’t you missed me? lemme see your pretty pussy.”

will go soft on you and worship your cunt, biting and sucking on your folds

but as soon as he sinks into you he’s falling back to his mean dom role 

loves when you fight back

“you little bitch, i’d be nice if i were you. wouldn’t wanna end up with no nice dick filling you up hmm?”

need him so bad oof

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍 / 아이엔 ★

extremely neutral

bro just wants to get his dick wet tbh

has no time for any sub/dom dynamics, he’s just down to fuck

likes when you tell him how good he is though

every whine and whimper of his name falling from your lips, crying about how good he feels stuffing you full only spurs him on to fuck you harder - dick prodding and pressing against all the sensitive parts of your pussy walls

might let you tie his hands together if you’re good

but becomes so desperate and whiney, hands itching out to touch you as you grind down on his thigh - the heat of your pussy searing his skin 

bro will literally rip out of those binds

flips you over and goes to town on your cunt

he’ll have you ruined when he’s done

he has such a high sex drive so whenever he goes away for months on end of tour he’ll still be whipped for that pussy

will get off solely on phone sex

loves the little gasps that slip past your lips when he tells you where to touch, imagining the hand he has wrapped around his straining dick was yours instead

“that’s it baby, curl your finger just a little more - just imagine it’s me instead.”

and your little choked moans you let out when you’re about to cum is enough for him to spill into his hand - wishing you and your hot little tongue was here to clean up his mess

always promises you how good he’s gonna fuck you when he gets home

and god that first fuck when he finally gets back!!

he’s so soft with you

fucking you over and over until you’re limp and sticky skinned in his arms, letting him drag his heavy cock against your snug walls

extremely giving, will eat you out and finger your cunt until you’re begging him to stop - your little nub twitching and raw from his stimulation

loves no matter how much he pushes you, you’re still eager for more

no matter how many hours he teases you, how many loads he spills into you you’re still ready and waiting for him to give you more

he expects you to return the favour though

likes to watch you take your time while playing his dick, hands fondling his heavy balls as your tongue lapped at his tip, sucking and kissing the swollen head

cradles your face as you lax your jaw around him, loving the way you look up at him from your place on your knees - so fondly with your mouth stuffed full of cock

cums as soon as he feels you grinding down against his foot, pussy clenching around nothing and practically begging to get fucked

call him a horned out teenager but he l o v e s making out

his lips will be on yours at all time

hot, open-mouthed kisses and tongue exploring your mouth as he fondles your tits, cock abusing in and out of your little hole

very much boyfriend material even during sex

honestly he’s just happy to be there

© 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐬 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.

[writersdrug]

I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader

I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex

He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?

Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.

"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."

Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?

He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.

"Feelin' alright, there?"

Simon grunts. "Long day."

Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."

That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.

Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.

"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.

"Sir."

Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.

"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."

Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.

He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."

With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-

For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.

And that damn bra is still in his room.

He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?

He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…

He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?

He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.

So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.

He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.

He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.

He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?

He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-

It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-

He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.

His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.

He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.

He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.  

He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.

[mv1simp]

Into It ♥️ Part 1 of 3

Max Verstappen x Girlfriend!Reader

i'm into it, yeah, says she wanna fuck me later, girl i'm into it

the one in which you’re newly dating your gorgeous boyfriend, max verstappen, after months of pining and flirting. he’s the perfect gentleman, so romantic and treats you just right! now how do you tell him that you’re desperate for mad max to come out and rail ur insides without sounding like a freak 😚

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut but this time with some plot lol, reader essentially is just trying whatever tactic she can to seduce her bf and make mad max come out in bed, size kink, dom/sub elements, 4k WC

PART TWO HERE ♥️ PART THREE HERE ♥️

You look up blissfully at your boyfriend, Max, from where you’re tucked into his side, his strong arm scooping you against him and keeping you warm. You’re rewatching an old classic, Shrek 2, as you wind down from your dinner plans with your friends earlier than evening. Lando and Daniel had joined as well, teasing you and Max mercilessly about how you two were finally together and that the whole F1 grid had been placing bets on when you would make it official.

You had flushed in a combination of embarrassment and giddiness, unable to hold back a matching laugh with Max who had looked over at you with an adoring gaze, his own heart warm with happiness about finally being able to call you his own. You two had run in the same Monaco circles for years - with him as a driver and you on the McLaren legal team. Though initially you only saw glimpses of him through paddock interviews or social media posts celebrating his multiple winning streaks, the two of you had become a lot closer the past couple years through his friendship with Daniel and Lando. Soon enough you were joining them at weekly Padel sessions, leading to you and Max exchanging funny cat memes or popping online to decimate him and Lando on a Call of Duty stream and then eventually onto deeper conversations, from his latest breakups with his model girlfriends or quiet ramblings with a bottle of wine outside a booming party about the pressures of demanding fathers.

Of course, tongues were wagging anytime you two were seen together - especially when Max had his first time in years being single for months before you had gotten together. You couldn’t deny that you had always thought the older Dutch man was incredibly handsome and funny, always full of interesting facts about niche topics, and you found his intensity and passion for his racing career so attractive, as a high powered professional yourself as a lawyer for a luxury car brand’s executive board. But you had always curbed any growing feelings you had for Max, paranoid that it would compromise the strong friendship you two had developed. Besides, given his affliction for dating vogue models, and his respectful gazes or polite touches compared to the much more flirtier ones from other drivers on the grid, you had never thought max considered you attractive.

But somehow, despite both your busy schedules, despite max being across the globe, you always ended up calling each other first to share sad, happy, or even just boring news. You had never once imagined that after winning his most recent championship the first person he came looking for in his celebrations that night was you, his face flushes from champagne and hugging you tightly, his eyes shining with warmth as he told you he couldn’t have won it without you and suddenly you could no longer deny the rapid palpitations of your heart when you looked up at him. And as he looked at you, thumb gently brushing across your cheeks, warm breaths mingling together as your faces drew closer, he couldn’t deny himself any longer either - Schat, all I’ve been thinking about is what I really wanted for my prize instead of this trophy. Can I kiss you now?

And the rest was history. Fast forward a few months and it’s still so surreal to call Max your boyfriend, you think, as you come back to the present, watching him fondly as he chuckles at the movie. Dating him has been a dream - he’s your first serious relationship, your standards too high to waste time with any of the subpar guys you had gone on first dates with before - and wow, did Max know exactly how to knock all of those standards out of the park. He would always drive and pick you up anywhere you wanted, in his sleek luxury cars that had pedestrians gawping, one large hand on your thigh and asking how your day had been. You had literally stopped taking your wallet out anymore as Max always slammed down his black Amex at any opportunity to pay for you - dinners, trips, jewellery and luxurious shopping sprees - and although the staunch feminist in you had initially disagreed you couldn’t help but feel so cared for, so looked after - knowing all you needed on a night out was one hand around his arm and the other clutching a pretty little Chanel purse he had picked up for you at last month’s race weekend, with a matching Dior lip gloss inside. If you were ever having a hard day at work he would always order your favourite foods straight to your apartment, where he would meet you and bitch and vent alongside you about whichever client had been giving you grief.

And my god, the sex - THE SEX with your man had been absolutely amazing. Considering the difference in your past number of relationships, max was keenly aware that he had a lot more experience than you and was so unbelievably sweet and patient - letting you take all the time you needed to go slow and work up the confidence gradually to ask for what you wanted for him. Your first time together had been incredibly romantic, a night at a private house he had booked out for the week on the Italian coastline. After a candlelit dinner and a bottle of wine you found yourself in his lap on the outdoor chaise, soft kisses turning more and more heated, max whispering are you sure, liefje? If you’re not ready-

to which you had cut him off with another deep kiss, pleading for him to make you his once and for all ❤️ His eyes had flickered with a deep intensity at your possessive statement before softening out to adoration again as he gently unlaced your dress and trailed kisses down your body, worshipping you. you’d both cum embarrassingly faster than you’d have liked, high off the feeling of one another, max cleanly finishing inside a condom he threw away before carrying you in his arms to the bedroom inside. Since then, you’d both figured out you had a combined very high sex drive, using every opportunity in your schedules to make love, max never hesitating to always make sure you came first, either on his fingers, tongue or cock. You had the perfect boyfriend. Truly. You couldn’t ask for anything more, yet -

- yet, here you were, feeling like an absolute bitch about the recurrent thoughts that had planted in your mind as you watched max come out of the bathroom freshly showered, getting ready for bed after finishing a gaming stream with his mates following your Shrek 2 viewing. The issue was that your boyfriend - your incredibly hot, sexy, tall Dutch boyfriend - was so stupidly enticing but so oblivious that he has no idea what he did to you. You bit your lip as you looked at him, hair dripping wet, distractingly saying something to you while texting on his phone - but your mind was only fixed on how big and strong Max looked. Your boyfriend was much bigger than you, almost towering over you at 6”1 with your 5”1 frame. His athletic training currently during the season meant he had been looking extra delectable lately, defined abs, thick muscular thighs and a broad shoulder and back that narrowed down to a narrow (or as Lando joked, slutty) waist, highlighted now by the grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips that did nothing to hide the sizeable bulge in between his legs. It was undeniable that he was packing, to the point where you had called it his third leg after first seeing him naked, making him laugh but also take even more care everytime he entered you - you were a lot smaller than his previous partners, after all. He always made sure his pace was gentle and slow, avoiding fully entering you too much in worry of causing you pain. Truly, your boyfriend was too sweet - everything he did was to avoid causing your any pain or distress - which is why you felt too embarrassed to ask him directly to be rougher with you when he was simply looking out for your comfort. It has been perfect for you initially, but now you felt more adjusted to his size, and each time you slept together you felt yourself becoming more and more desperate for Max to be just a little bit rougher, a little bit more controlling. What would he think when his usually sweet, happy go lucky girlfriend admitted she actually fantasised about him completely ruining her? So, of course, you being you - an ambitious feminist - have decided to hatch a conniving strategy to seduce your boyfriend into giving it to you just right!! 💕

Starting tonight - you had already planned to spend the night at Max’s, relaxing after the hectic work week you had both had. Often, you wore his comfortable hoodies that dwarfed you and smelt just like him as you cuddled in bed. Instead tonight you wore an angelic pink lace Agent Provocateur nightie, bows and all, pushing your cute tits up on display for him and complimenting your caramel skin perfectly. Enough to drive Max crazy, right? Sitting against the plush pillows, you had been reading one of your steamy dark romance novels - your latest outlet these days while you manifested getting some back breaking sex with Max - but of course had ended up distracted by the sight of your himbo boyfriend emerging from the shower.

-Schat? So what do you think? Max finally looked up from his phone, making you come back to reality and realize you hadn’t been answering his question. Max’s eyes widened seeing your pretty little form on his bed - he had never seen you wear an outfit like that in bed before. He cleared his throat, inconspicuously shifting his stance so you didn’t notice his hard on at the sight of you when you hastily stumbled to reply - Oh sorry maxie, I missed what you were saying, just a bit tired after today

Max immediately came to your side in bed, looking guilty. Of course Schat, sorry, I’m keeping you up with my gaming stream aren’t I? You had such a long week already, we can go straight to bed now. You cursed your own slip up - of course, your sweet Max would put your comfort first over what you were sure looked like mission successful given the rapid hardening of his bulge you had zoned in on.

You try again as Max dims the bedside lamps, taking your book gently away from your hands and setting it to the side. You lean softly in next to him, fluttering your eyelashes up at him, tits right up against his hard biceps so that your breasts are basically cushioning his arm right in between them. Your nightie rises up your legs, showcasing your soft, luscious thighs for him. Max smiles lovingly at you, cradling your face before peppering your cheeks with baby kisses. You look so pretty, sweetheart. So sweet to wait for me before falling asleep, mein Schat.

You lean in further, lips pouting in an effort your boyfriend would finally catch the hint but instead you found yourself gently maneouvered and tucked into his side, his large hands rubbing soothing circles along your back as he placed a final kiss on your forehead. Goodnight, darling. Your eye twitched at his definitive words, perplexed at how your plan had been so unsuccessful, but you sighed and wished goodnight to Max, falling asleep and already plotting for another day.

A couple of weeks later you decided to up the ante. A sexy, bold crimson red lingerie teddy set, practically see through and showcasing your tan nipples through the lace and mesh, and a pathetic excuse of some lacy red panties to match. You smirked as you eyed yourself in the mirror - sure, it was quite a forward look, but you had found yourself becoming increasingly more desperate for your boyfriend’s attentions after attending his Monaco race today. You did your best to attend the races you could but with your own demanding schedule often struggled to make it, so were very excited to support your boyfriend this time - especially as you had been keeping track of how this season was difficult compared to earlier years given the poorer quality of the RB car. Your eyes had widened at seeing the events this weekend - a string of bad luck events. First, his engine had stalled during free practise, making him lose precious practise time, and then a red flag had been called as he was finishing an almost perfect qualifying lap, ruining his chances of pole, and finally during the actual race he was clipped on the side by one of the Aston Martin’s, making him spin out but still incredibly go on to get P2. It was amazing result given everything, but what caught your attention was a side of your boyfriend you had only every heard whispers about emerge on the track. In the past, you had only attended races he had easily won, appearing calm and collected throughout the weekends as he cruised to P1 - easily overpowering everyone else. Today though - Mad Max, his fans excitedly cheered and paddock staff gossiped, Mad Max is finally back!! In his villain era!!

And your Max was indeed seething at everyone - competitors, his strategy team, the stewards for not giving Aston Martin a penalty - and you had listened in on the radio to hear him angrily swear and yell to his engineer, seen him aggressively overtake and defend his place on the track, and finally seen the stormy expression on his face as he emerged out of his car, clearly pissed with narrowed eyes as he stalked off to his driver room without a word, not even sparing a glance at you or anyone else. Sure, you should have felt a little hurt that he hadn’t noticed you or seen the perfectly planned designer outfit you had arrived wearing, sending the paparazzi into a flurry, but you completely understood that his career was first on the line today and he needed some time to cool off. And honestly, instead of feeling bad for Max - the sick, twisted part of you couldn’t deny that he had looked sooo sexy completely dominating on the track, authoritatively giving orders over the radio and confidently outmanoeuvring his rivals. You had to catch yourself from biting your lip or squeezing your legs together as his rough accented tones got more and more angry throughout the race over your headphones, imaging what it would be like to be pinned down by his strong arms, to have him lean down behind you and whisper naughty things in your ear, to ask if you liked being a dirty little-

“Oh! Y/N! Can we get a quick word?” The sky sports reporters interruption hastily put an end to the illicit thoughts you had been having. Quickly trying to school your expression into something much more PR friendly, you flashed a dazzling smile, “Of course!”. As expected they tried to rile responses out of you to condemn Max’s aggressive performance. But you had stood for none of it, honestly and clearly stating that your boyfriend had driven very capably and fairly given the circumstances and you were extremely impressed with his performance. “He’s a triple world champion after all. Did you just expect him to roll over and not defend his title? If you don’t agree with it then no need to watch it. At the end of the day he’s the one driving the car over the finish line while everyone else is speculating hypotheticals.” The reporters thank you for your input, stumbling for words at your strong defence of your boyfriend. You wandered off before they could say more, catching up with Max a couple hours later when he had debriefed and collected his trophy, looking a lot more chilled out than earlier.

Hey, Schatje he mumbled gently, leaning down to kiss you on the lips after pulling you from a conversation with the other WAGs. Max! you had exclaimed brightly, congratulating him on his win and letting him know just how proud you were of him. You knew he would be tired - we could go to the red bull celebration yacht party for 30min, show our faces, and then play hooky back to ours? I already put in a dinner order for your favourite lamb kebabs.

Max smiled down at you - you knew him so well, always knew what to say and when he wanted to relax. Sounds amazing, Schat he voiced in agreement. Later, after eating dinner at home, Lando sent him a trending insta reel with the caption “Mate, she’s too good to you, you bagged a queen.” Max grinned, expecting some fanmade memes about you and him as he clicked the link (he has seen all the Queen Y/N and he’s just…Ken Max tweets already. You were a well liked figure on the paddock for years with your well mannered speech, excellent dress style and courteous relationships with most of the staff.)

He was suprised to instead see an interview post race of you defending him staunchly, shutting down any opportunity the reporters used to manipulate your words. He walked into his bedroom to find you conveniently waiting for him in bed again, nose buried in one of your romance models, and started laughing at how effective you were at putting the media clowns in their place. Thanks for sticking up for me always, liefje. You smiled back at him with pure adoration - of course Maxie, that’s the advantage of dating a lawyer, right?

He agreed enthusiastically, so caught up on now yapping about the race as he climbed into bed with you that he didn’t even notice the sexy little outfit you had planned just for him, covering you up with his soft duvet before you could properly twirl around and showcase it for him. Your eye twitched again as he yawned in between statements, grabbing your waist and bringing your back in against him, spooning you while his voice gently trailed off, falling asleep.

Meanwhile, your mind was running at 100 miles a minute, a scowl on your face. This was ridiculous, you had gotten all dressed up in an overpriced beautiful outfit just for your boyfriend to get distracted by a 3min interview you had done with an asshole reporter and then fall asleep instead of ravaging you?? You had tonight would be the perfect night, for you to be the one to support him for once, be the perfect outlet for his stress, to use you and manipulate your body for his own pleasure…heat pooled in your gut at your dark thoughts, and you grow wetter between your legs at the mental image of max having his way with you. Maybe it still wasn’t too late. Sighing gently, you closed your eyes, pretending to drift into sleep but moving your plump, barely covered ass behind you to gently grind up on your boyfriend’s cock, which was now rapidly hardening with your practised movements. You sensed Max had awakened when you felt his arms tighten around you, keeping you still in an effort to stop you from exciting him to much while you were still asleep and he couldn’t act on it.

Mmmhmm, maxie, feels so good~ you moaned, still keeping up the facade of having a wet dream, breathing getting heavier and pushing your tits against the edges of his fingers that were wrapped around your waist. You felt him exhale sharply as he came into contact with your hardened nipples, a smirk on your face. Your grinding had managed to push the duvet partially off, exposing your red lingerie in the moonlight - surely this would be enough to drive any man crazy!!

You heard him sigh behind you, shifting slightly and inadvertently pushing his cock against your skimpy underwear as he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck - and you had to hold back a squeal with how hard and big he felt against you, this was it, he was finally going to give in and fuck you awake while he thought you were having a wet dream, he could slide it right in, you were ready for it, for him, you were soo wet already just from imagining it, this was so hot-

Your fantasies are quickly shut down as max easily used his strength to turn you around so your face was buried into his chest again, your ass now devastatingly much too far away to get any action, and began rubbing your shoulders soothingly to get you to fall into a deep sleep again. You almost combusted at the action before deflating and accepting defeat once more. Your kind boyfriend of course would never toe the line of having sex with you in a dubious way were you were asleep. You wanted - no needed, to bring Mad Max out in your bedroom, and you were determined to do whatever it took.

Over the next few weeks you threw countless strategies Max’s way. Leaving your dirty romance books out in plain view, sometimes even opened up to a page right in the middle of a jaw dropping sex scene. Lacier and lacier bralettes and panties left everywhere to prompt him. “Accidentally” deleting his best SIM race time record on his rig. But nothing seemed to be working - max diligently tidyed up the stray underwear, reshelved the books, and generously forgave you for the SIM error before setting a new record later that night instead of fucking you angrily like you had planned. You got more frustrated as both your work schedules became busier, leaving you less time to connect with him. Fuck, last weekend - last weekend you had even thrown out all your boxes of condoms before jumping into Max’s arms when he had come home, laughing and eager to see you. One thing let to another and he was as eager to be inside you as you were to have him inside you, voicing It’s been too long Schat, I’ve missed your sweet body so much, so beautiful for me in between kisses as he reached for the bedstand drawer to grab a condom - only to find it empty. You pretended to have a confused look on your face (truly, you deserved an Oscar for your performance this past month) before oh so innocently suggesting Maxie, we- we don’t have to use one if you don’t want, I’m on the pill -

And there it was - a brief darkening of your boyfriends’ normally loving ice blue eyes, his sharp gaze on you at your suggestion of doing it raw for the first time - before he schooled his features back to normal and gave you a sweet kiss, It’s okay Schat, you’re too sweet, you don’t deserve to feel uncomfortable for my sake, I’ll just grab some from the corner store, da? He was off you before you could protest, promising he would be back soon as you blinked away tears of frustration and denial that yet again your plan had failed. When he finally entered you later that night, ever so gently, condom and all, you closed your eyes tight and imagined how each vein and ridge of his thick cock might feel when fully buried inside you to the hilt, if that goddamn condom broke, if he spilled all of his thick, creamy cum inside you, so much that it spurted out the sides, leaking everywhere, claiming you as his and no one else’s, making such a filthy, filthy mess-

- you came harder than you had the whole month, burying your face in Max’s shoulder to contain the scream that threatened to spill out. You sighed as you came down from your high. Fuck, you needed a drink.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Follow along for Part 2 of this 3 part series to see if dear reader will finally manage to uncockblock herself and release Mad Max!! 😚😚

[capslocked]

PARITY

male reader x sana & miyeon

21k words

Within some reasonable tolerance, the two are carbon copies. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.

Doppelganger, twin, deadringer - they always tell you, they don’t see it.

But when they stand together it always comes across like two shadows stitched into one silhouette; the slope of their noses, their mouths; the way their hair cascades down past their shoulders.

You’ve learned to recognize the twitch at the corner of their lips before a laugh - how they speak in the same inflection and pitch and tempo, the same cadence coloring all their syllables. Even in their figures there is something uncannily familiar: that petite stature, that grace; they both have perfect posture, an ingrained elegance, like something handed down generation to generation. And of course - the height. The hair. The eyes. The same-damned-smirk.

Here's a hypothetical: if Sana's DNA, then Miyeon's RNA. They're both two separate ways of reading the same thing, and they both have it in them to transcribe the same hot load of proteins over all their pretty faces.

"Oh, that's like a sex joke," Miyeon says to Sana, frowning slightly, "right?"

"I don't know." Sana hums. "Protein... like sperm?"

You sigh, rub your thumb at your temple. This is why, normally, you wouldn't take ditzy to bed, but there's all this history between you and Sana that proves otherwise. The dirty truth is: you’ve been taking ditzy to bed for years. And Miyeon’s right there. She’s all bright eyes, blonde hair, tiny little waist, the perfect height to get two fingers in her cunt and the rest of her in your lap without you even needing to shift your arm into something more uncomfortable. God forbid.

She pulls back the curtain of silk-glossed-hair spilling over her cheek and tucks it neatly behind her ear. Okay, fine. So maybe you really do have a type.

"Yeah," Miyeon decides. "I think that's a good pun. Cute."

She glances sideways at Sana; something flashes between them, imperceptible. They've been doing this sorta thing for a long time - long before they ended up in their current living arrangement. This machine of synchronized, unvoiced communication.

"Cute," echoes Sana, delighted, and she lets her eyes flick back to yours. "Baby, are you, like, gonna give us lots of protein?"

"First of all, we’re fast approaching the point of diminishing returns on the whole protein spermaestria," you muse, wryly. Sana beams. "And again, the point I’m trying to make, Sana: you two are identical."

"Not in spirit," says Miyeon, automatically. "Or intellect. Or appearance, either."

"You can't just claim that," says Sana, matter of fact. "He means physically. I have bigger tits and a better ass.”

There's no argument from your end. And not only because the cab driver hits a speed bump or a pothole or perhaps a small child way too quickly that sends you all lurching together into the seatbelts.

Miyeon finds a good hold in the handle over the door - it saves her - and you wind up steadying Sana. For a split second, it's both their shoulders leaning on yours: Sana, then Miyeon, then Sana. Back and forth. Back and forth. The three of you still end up sprawled halfway out of the seats and onto each other in the cramped cab, tangled all together.

"Please, explain it then," implores Sana, hushed slightly. "Go ahead, I'm sure Miyeon's dying to hear it."

"Look, it's not a perfect one to one mapping," you say, running your hand through your hair and putting on your patient professor-in-front-of-the-class face. "For example: Miyeon's cuter-"

"Thank you," chirps Miyeon, sweetly sardonic, before you can even append anything else to the statement. Sana’s already there with a noise of mild protest.

"I mean, I'm a full inch and a half taller than you."

"So?"

"That’s an unfair advantage. You've gotta be the dumbest person I know."

"Funny," chides Miyeon, swiveling her gaze onto Sana. "You could barely talk when we were fucking your brains out on your birthday. He's dating you, not me, remember? If anything, you're the one sporting an unfair advantage."

"Okay, well," Sana counters, reasonably, "when you can barely get a sentence out from choking on my boyfriend's cock, who the hell is supposed to call it?"

You ignore that. Miyeon is having more difficulty; her face has flushed cherry red and her hand's white-knuckle-gripping the side of the cab's passenger door. 

"For what it’s worth," you cut in, placidly, "I don’t think there’s any clear answer."

"Nonsense," they both reply, simultaneously and satisfied - like wind up toys. And that's the way the conversation tends to go when you get them alone like this. Identical, you pause to think again after spilling out from the back of the car and onto the curb outside the girls’ apartment.

All the things they say are word-for-word - they walk the same, eat the same, smile the same, tilt their heads the same. In those moments where you don't speak, it feels like watching some two-headed monster, an entity constructed from equal parts of both. And it isn't just the physicality at play. They've got that eerie ability to read each other, speak for each other. It's strange: their habits, the way their eyebrows arch, the set of their shoulders. It all syncs right up, matches seamlessly.

It's really fucking uncanny.

"Um." Sana twists one slim wrist back and forth until the key turns in the lock. "So, is it, like, wrong of me that I kinda just wanna skip the dinner part of this and watch my roommate get wrecked in the middle of our living room?"

"Depends," you answer, before you can let yourself dwell too much.

“Just a complete and utter carpet dive,” Sana says, shouldering the door open and flipping on the lights. “It’d serve her right. She’s being annoying.”

Miyeon scoffs, sticks out a bare, pale leg - it ends in a nail polished fire engine red, the strap of a stiletto sandal - and blocks your way inside. "Hey," she protests, lightly. You are not the only object in the equation - you are merely an item to be held against them; it's not about you, not in its most abstract shape. Miyeon and Sana are competing - vaguely for your affection, but more so just for affection in general. It's an ego thing, if nothing else.

"I'm an angel. I'm precious."

"Get your pretty feet out of his face," warns Sana.

"Ugh," says Miyeon. And then, "so short-tempered when you're not getting away with everything."

"Whatever, princess." Sana gestures, airy and flippant. "In any case: fuck off, or go get fucked."

This has become some kind of weird custom, admittedly. Miyeon does exactly as her best friend requests. She floats down the hallway and toward her room.

"Can't get good service around here anymore anyway," is what she tosses over her shoulder. Her fingers run up the door frame to her room and hang there, briefly, before she glances sideways back. You and Sana, now giving her your deservedly undivided attention. There is no split focus, no point of overlap. Her hair falls loose past her shoulders; her shirt clings a little to the muscles of her arms, her ribs. The point of contact between her skirt and her upper thighs. Those impossibly big eyes. She's gorgeous. You rarely ever let yourself forget that. There's something devastating about the set of her face, about how her body is absolutely fucking perfect, all curving lines and smooth planes - tits that fit right in your palm, the dip of her stomach, the pretty shape of her ass - she’s tiny, and in a way, that means you can do anything to her and manage to get away with it. She’ll let you. She’ll ask you to do it all again. 

"You two are more than welcome to follow along, if you feel so inclined,” Miyeon adds before she opens the door to her room, steps through, and lets it shut behind her.

"Yeah." Sana runs her tongue over her top lip, staring you straight in the eye. Her smile is slightly predatory, all sharp teeth. "If you’re so inclined."

-

(For anyone wondering about things like premise or backstory, here’s a useful memory:

Sana has a new roommate. They've been living together for two, three months. She's still not over the fact you didn’t ask her to move in, and you're still not ready for it. Your answer hasn’t changed. You like your apartment the way it is; the two of you need space; it's what the kids call cohabital parity and no, the ring's not in your wallet and it's not even bought yet; stop nagging me. It'll happen when it happens. 

Anyway,

It's one of those plainly beautiful evenings in early July or August - a weekend probably: the living room is bathed in the sort of low, radiant sunset that can go on forever, all of summer stretched out, leisure and sunshine. Sana had talked her way into getting you to take her somewhere highbrow and a little out of your budget. She can talk her way into just about anything; that's her brand, her bad habit, her good fortune.

"We're not going to be able to get our tickets," you're explaining into the loud blare of a hair dryer. And to paraphrase, "what the fuck is the point of making reservations if we’re going to be so reprehensively late?"

Sana's juggling the curling iron while fumbling with an eyelash curler and applying mascara and rearranging earrings all at the same time, and you think about reminding her, again, that it doesn't matter what she looks like if you never actually, you know, leave - but then the hair dryer switches off.

“Hey.” Sana ignores the concern and swivels to ask which earrings match which necklace - two pairs are laid across the countertop; they look exactly the same; you love her, desperately, but for the record, you've never been any good at telling jewelry apart. Neither the knowledge-set nor the motivation; she looks fucking gorgeous in everything regardless-

The front door clicks then, and Miyeon bursts through with the force of an entire hurricane - and promptly stops, dead. You forget what the hell she said, but the story was: she'd just gotten back from the worst date in her life. She's in tears, sobbing. It's a mess. She's a mess. You can't leave.

She falls right into Sana's arms. Then Sana throws a pointed, triumphant grin your way, and says to Miyeon - and you remember this, word for word, verbatim - "Aw, baby. Don't worry. Let us take care of you. We'll make you forget all about him, okay?"

This is the long and short of it: Miyeon arrives, in tears. You never make it to dinner and a show. And the night ends more or less how it started - with Miyeon still pretty much crying, but only because you two won't stop. With your fingers, your mouths. Sana knows what her tongue's doing; Miyeon is loud - and responsive. She's gorgeous too. She's so into it. She needs someone who is genuinely in love with her, who isn't going to try and push her around. You slip your cock into her and that's pretty much it, a different kind of curtain call; Miyeon gets Sana's thumb rolling at her clit and, yeah - she's fucking gone. She cums on your cock like she’s dying, like you’re killing her. It's as simple as that.

Now, there are several instances of which this is the case, in chronological order:

a.) The first time, in Sana's bed.

b.) The second time is in the back of Miyeon's hatchback. Tight fit for three people. It's a do-not-recommend.

c.) The third time, when they want to try blindfolding Miyeon while she rides your cock in the living room. The girl can't see shit, you break some IKEA furniture you can’t pronounce the name of, and the condom comes off during the whole process. There’s this unsettling, world-rocking possibility in which you get Miyeon fucking legitimately pregnant via oopsie-daisy. So, you and Sana wind up spooned up with Miyeon between you two and discuss the eventuality, should it arise - what you will all do in the future, the consequences, what Miyeon and Sana will say to Miyeon's and Sana's families - what the fuck you'll tell the rest of your friends, let alone the press - and then, deciding together: hey, well maybe this is actually a really bad idea.

d.) The fourth, fifth, sixth and every time after that where you realize that you're just gonna roll it all back and pretend like this is completely normal. Two's company, three's kind of a fever dream - but this is the platonic ideal of groupthink. It works. It just does; you know how to fit the pieces together now. How to read her body language: the one-two-one rhythm, Sana and Miyeon and then Miyeon-and-Sana; where their hands are, where they're moving; Miyeon's choked little sobs and the breathless gasps when your cock is deep inside her; all the unintelligible murmurs passing between the two of them that you can't understand - but none of them ever really matter. The important thing is that she's put her two front teeth in your left collarbone while you fuck into her slow and deliberate, in a way she can really feel. You cover Sana's mouth with your palm, your fingers pressed against the pulsing heat in her pussy, and you make them both cum over and over until they’re eyes are screwed shut and they’re counting stars.

That's about it. That's all the things.)

-

"I call it being spoiled for choice," Sana says, pausing only momentarily to decide in the mirror of Miyeon's makeup vanity whether or not to take off the bracelet on her wrist. 

The glint that strikes off the metal is gold in the bedroom lights, all warm yellow and sparkling silver. Sana narrows her fingers, pulls it off, on - like you've caught her trying on clothes, the latest fashion in a store front window. A stylistic consideration. It matches the rings on her third and fourth fingers. She decides that it suits her. 

"Lo and behold," Sana continues, "we have a real situation on our hands. In your hands. Whatever, you get my drift."

"Your cock," adds Miyeon, smiling like sunshine. She’s tracing you over your pants with her thumb, and she’s got her doe-eyed grin on, the one that promises something sugar-sweet, kneeling between your thighs at the edge of her bed - the slightest dishevel of her hair, kiss-swollen lips. God, what a picture. Her pupils flare when her fingers reach the top button of your pants. "And what's worse? I'm going to die if I can't have at least, you know. A couple minutes alone with it."

"You'd figure out a way to die either way," Sana muses. She leans backwards in Miyeon's desk chair, tugging idly at the hem of her skirt.

They're not usually dressed alike, and that's the weirdest part - Sana's never had Miyeon's particular taste for the tiny gauche dresses and white converse shoes and glossy nails, not unless it’s some matching outfit that she's being bullied into. Today's no different: the soft fabric of Miyeon's slip of dress barely stretches down to the line of her thigh. The hem starts just below the boundary of innocuous and everything else. She’d been hiking it up all evening. And the straps lay so thin across her shoulders that one little tug in the wrong spot would probably send it skidding all the way down to the floor.

That's the main thing on your mind when you get one in between your fingers.

Miyeon simply shoulders the other, rolling it down to hang loose, leaving the dress hanging off the gentle slope of her chest.

"Pretty," you say out loud.

"I know," she says, holding the grin.

She can make the world smile, it's infectious - and your gaze follows the path: from the blonde-shiny hair spilling over a collarbone, to the peeking line of her bra, to the flutter of the bottom of her dress at her hip. You catch the subtle lace trim, the little patterns embroidered into the waist, and decide her body's a gift - and wrapping it is something divine, something meant to be ripped right to shreds. If no one else is willing to volunteer, then it'll fall on you. Sure, sure, sure. You can be thanked later.

"Lose it," you request, quietly.

"Mr. Impatient," is what Sana sniffs out, scoffing. She's lounged back on the other side of Miyeon's makeup counter. Her heel taps away at empty air, bouncing off the end of her foot, that hot little fucking rhythm she's had going since her partner in crime got in your lap and kissed you right down into oblivion. "You want to get her naked and get inside of her, huh?"

"Is that not why you dragged me here?" you counter.

"Oh, don't put this on me." Her expression slides right into the mischievous smirk you're familiar with. Miyeon’s often sporting the same one.

"He wants to bend you over, princess," she tells Miyeon, and you hear the wistful sigh through her parted lips come out like permission. "Not that I can say I'd blame him. When's the last time you've taken cock again?"

"With him last week." She throws the response to Sana. They look, more than anyone, to be in sync in their one-upmanship.

"Hmm," says Sana, and she’s looking right at you. "Check how tight that dress fits over her hips, don't you just want to tear it right off of her?"

"He's not doing that," says Miyeon, but there's the lilting tease in her voice that signals precisely the opposite. She wants it: wants it like sugar and soda, salt water taffy; wants to be stripped like skin, bared to the bone. Her knees spread, just a little. "Not yet, anyway. Right now," she adds, hand fluttering towards the inside of her thigh, supplying touches right over the lace, "I want to suck his cock."

"Such a slut," Sana teases, tilting her head.

"You'll get yours," Miyeon insists, before pulling your cock out of your boxers with a small smile, curling her fingers around it, leaning forward. "God, this thing." She has the head under the palm of her other hand, and a wet-tipped promise on her lower lip.

You thread your hand into the hair aside Miyeon's temple, gentle and what will seem in a moment: paradoxically-tender. 

"Imagine what it'll do to your mascara when I fuck your mouth."

Miyeon licks her lips. You reckon she’s completely aware how it comes across - the wicked fantasy she is.

"I'm imagining what it'll do to you when she chokes," Sana retorts. 

“When he fills up my throat,” Miyeon says, hungry.

Sana sighs, sounding utterly wistful, and she fixes the same unrepentant look on you. "Poor Miyeon is just starved for cum tonight. Aww," she remarks, sweetly, "The poor thing. Do me a favor won't you? Fuck my pretty little friend in the face."

"Well," is all you get out before you look up at Sana. "Yours too, honey."

"Hardly, the same," Miyeon cuts in primly, glancing sideways at Sana. There is some snobbishness implied; there are ways Sana and Miyeon have always found to subtly measure themselves against one another, to best each other - all of these ridiculous acts and anecdotes. Like their voices aren’t replicas of one another - and in constant disagreement over whoever is currently claiming to be the original.

Miyeon prissily tilts her jaw up. "Your ego might actually be the worst part about you, Sana. That and your tits."

"Guess he just loves all the worst parts," Sana quips, rolling her eyes, "and every time you call it into question I fall in love with him a little more."

She's got one foot up now on the seat of the chair and she's running her fingers, delicate and teasing, around the press of her panties. It's not a voyeuristic thing, she's told you, it's less about watching Miyeon get fucked than it is about knowing exactly what it looks like when she herself gets spread out beneath you. She watches you and Miyeon, she watches her best friend and you, and she touches herself and it's perfect. There's a few seconds, long and warm, before she lifts her fingers away, then sucks them into her mouth with a grin. Just the slightest taste.

"But seriously," she says to Miyeon. "If you're gonna do something - then do it. Don't be a tease. We both know the answer, anyway."

Miyeon swallows. You hear her. You watch her lips wrap around the head of your cock and pop off, wet and shining, and her head rests in the curve of your palm.

"I’m working on it," Miyeon allows, lowly - she pumps her fist again around you, careful with the motion; this little twisting tug. "Fuck, it's not even the fact that it's fucking huge, or. Like, it’s not because I’m dying to get stuffed by this, or because I’m sitting here thinking: oh my fuck, I’m gonna feel so full with this thing inside me."

You have her hand under her chin, thumb stroking gently against her cheek. Her eyes return to yours when you put a little more pressure in your grip. She’s fantastically pretty, and the gleam of lust and want in her irises has you probably too eager to play along. 

“So then, what could it possibly be?”

"It's-" Her cheeks darken pink beneath her blush, stumbling through a mouthful of ums and uhs as her eyes make tiny departures back to your waist until she finally gives up and just stares again.

Sana sits up a little in her chair.

"Look, this is the prettiest cock I've ever seen.” 

You and Sana almost snort in unison.

“I’m serious.” Miyeon rubs a semi-circle over the head with her thumb, glancing up at you beneath her mascara, and then to the base, back up. It jerks, almost like reflex, in her grasp; she huffs in delight. "It’s, like, perfect in every way. And, god, everytime- I’d just about do anything to feel it inside me."

“You’d beg?” Sana asks, eyebrow raised.

“I’m about to get down on my knees and grovel, honey.”

"Should've just said," Sana laughs - Miyeon chews her lip, half-exasperated, and drops a kiss to the tip that makes Sana's expression simper - "you’re halfway there. Want him to cum in that sweet mouth?"

"Want him to tell me what he's going to do," says Miyeon, frilly. "Every last detail."

Lips stretching open, fingers splaying, curling around the weight - she dips her head to rest her cheek on your thigh and kisses the underside of your shaft. She’s practically like liquid. Flowing and easy and gorgeous, always gorgeous, too far gone to form a full thought. That much is obvious. And why shouldn't it be - your hand's already snagged up, your thumb's already wiping the hair out of her eyes. She turns to let it sit against the edge of her cheekbone. "You really need an incentive? Want you to fill me up so I can-"

"Swallow," you supply, simply. “Swallow everything.”

"Yeah," Miyeon presses into the curve of your cock. She doesn't wink, not really; she doesn’t need to. "I like you. You always know exactly what to say."

Her hair brushes a feather-light caress up the skin of your thigh, mouth a vision of sin and pretty red lipstick. "Open," you command, quietly, and she follows your orders exactly - mouth dropping, head tilting, eyes drifting closed - her lips glisten with saliva and you could shove your cock into that mouth, easy. Just push in and wreck the inside of her - spit on her chin, feel her throat clench up as she gags and struggles around your cock. God, if that isn't a thought that can do a number on the base of your spine.

"Easy," Sana supplies, like she can read your mind. That wouldn’t really surprise you. “Leave some of her make-up for me.”

There's the quick hiss of an inhale, Miyeon's mouth stretching open. Her jaw going slack. You feel the long, wet suck of skin and spit, and her eyelids flutter as she settles in. She slides her tongue and adjusts, makes soft, raspy, throaty noises while her lips slide down the first few inches of your cock. It’s funny - Sana had made the same sound earlier in the day - and it's really not like it's an awful comparison. They both let on gorgeous little noises when they're sucking cock and it makes sense because it's the same cock. Same skin. Same person.

You're not, however, about to do something so pedestrian as compare notes. Not on them. Not in the fucking slightest.

And Sana, god - Sana doesn't just watch. She knows better. She's not even the one taking your cock in her mouth but there's the insistent presence of her: a fingertip diving down past the crotch of her skirt, a quiet moan, her wrist jolting in a repetition of short, sharp strokes, the kind she likes to use on herself: precise. Deliberate.

"Miyeon," you whisper. "God, just - it's your fucking mouth, you-"

The hand on her face strokes the side of her head - a push-pull. A chance to break off - she doesn't - so she ends up with a rougher grip tangling through her hair and you guiding her head further down the length of your shaft.

Miyeon loves the pressure on her throat. You know that. And, yeah, she fucking hates choking on it but somehow in her mind, they're different. Opposites. Because with the way she's going, a little cough will burst free in a few seconds time. That’s your signal, you’ve learned, that she'll let you slide yourself to the hilt. Just keep the wet tip lodged there until she starts gasping around it. It'd only take a minute.

Two tops.

And well, that's the compromise: your patience for a throat fuck is infinite. She's staring up at you with upturned brows and that pretty-please pout on her slick-wet lips. She's making her best effort but, christ. Fuck.

Her eyelids flicker once.

Then close.

"There," you breathe down to her, your knuckles finding her cheek, smoothing over the sharp curve of bone there. Your cock is slotted right in her hot little mouth and you're starting to feel like maybe you really did hang the moon and stars in the sky after all. Her lips press around you. Sink, up, down. "Such a good girl, sucking my cock, looking up at me- god, all dolled up, it's not even fair, Miyeon."

Miyeon can be many things, and presently among them: a filthy, obedient angel.

She pulls up. "I try," Miyeon breathes right at the tip. Her tongue darts out. She swirls, and swirls, until it’s back under the tip of your cock again, soft.

You're too predictable, or you're too forthcoming, or here’s the thing about a woman's intuition; Miyeon wants to tell you something more, she wants to let you know how fucking unbelievably hard you are in her hands right now; she wants to laugh at you for getting caught up and dumb but she's not letting your cock slide free. This suckle of her lips, right at the crest where you're most sensitive and leaking precum right into her mouth - this press and pull is as close to conversation as she can get. So what. You love it. She loves it: the reward is in the ricochet. You look at her and her cheeks hollow and the flash of her pink tongue gets wet and warm under your head, the slit of her mouth stretching to take every ‘totally fucking perfect’ inch of your cock.

And then her lips tighten and she just-

"Christ, Miyeon-" You whimper it right down to her, your voice lost in the shiver of her throat, all tight and wet around your cock. It's like your vocal cords have been stolen right along with the air in your lungs and everything feels floaty, warped and red and blanketing you with Miyeon's hard-worked rhythm:

The scissoring flick of her tongue as she strokes the base with a firm fist. The other hand resting on your hip, feeling your hips jerk. She wants this, the part where you let go and stop thinking. The part where she opens her throat, lets her saliva flood to pool against her palm, and wet the tip of your cockhead before letting it slide right back in her throat. Your shaft flexing into her heat, the sound of those gags.

She just-

She just goes on like that, sucking your cock while the flat of her palm skates a little tighter. Up, up, down - up-

"Miyeon," Sana says, now on her feet and shadowing in closer, leaning. And that's it. Sana knows too. She kneels down next to her, gets a finger under her chin, and delivers in a uniquely cold tone: "hands behind your back, sweetheart. I want him to cum in your gorgeous little mouth."

You nearly choke, ironically. You're already grabbing so much of her hair: all those smooth silky strands threaded through your fingers.

You thrust and pull. She gags. She fucking chokes.

Spit collects, rolls down the corners of her mouth and gathers on her chin. You can see the mascara threaten to run tracks along her pretty cheeks, the way the makeup smudges so dangerously close to her bottom lid. "Yeah?" you say, so softly, but you can't - can't seem to look anywhere else, or take anything back - so, what, her jaw's just gonna go on being that perfect little shape, and she's gonna be a brat for it. Okay. That works. She looks good choking. You can see the slick glint of her pink mouth stretching taut on your cock, your cock jerking and bobbing on the pad of her tongue; it's not real - no, this is completely real. The ball of your foot slips along the floor.

It's instinct. You can't help yourself; a groan spills out of you, half-sighed

Sana's whispering right in her ear; not that you can make anything out of it over the noises from her mouth, her fist all wet, pumping. The tick-tock bob of her hair. Sana's hand is on the back of her head and then - pushing the last inch down, and down, her nose buries right into your skin.

“Mnnph.” Miyeon, gurgling: your cock pressed all the way down the line.

"Fuck," you spit, holding her jaw in place. "Fuck, Miyeon-"

She looks up at you, her eyebrows cinched, the graceful lines in her picture-perfect-face pulling around you - blissed out. She stutters in place while you dump a hot load of cum into her mouth.

And she adds a cough as you pump everything directly onto her fucking tongue. It’s more than she anticipated, judging by the leak. How your cum rolls down from the corner of her mouth.

Sana drops a kiss onto her temple as she takes you in and out of her mouth again, until she presses her lips firm and hollows her cheeks. Miyeon's fingers caress your balls like there's some part of you that isn't giving her fucking everything already.

"Come on, princess," says Sana, kissing her way along Miyeon's neck, the tops of her shoulders. There is not an angle to Miyeon's elegant features that she could take that could possibly be anything short of priceless. "Show him how you swallow."

The image is obscene, for one thing. The utter filth in that satiated hum; there’s another. 

It's your white-hot cum dribbling past her swollen, fucked mouth. Miyeon swallows like the good girl she is - takes a breath, stares, and then finishes, a gulp, an extra breath, her whole face now a shade more flushed. Sana kisses her on the cheek and suddenly it's perfect: they're both staring right at you. Your throat has to unclench, reboot and the air in the room just tastes so good and your chest is heaving; you just- fuck, you can't breathe-

"Shit," you exhale. It comes out like a small explosion. "Uh-"

The side of Sana's mouth slants and then Miyeon grins: it's her cheek, dimple; that crescent moon thing and oh, this is the point. Sana slides a hand over the gentle curve of her stomach, then sets her open mouth over Miyeon's still-lips, slipping in close and - kissing. Their mouths melt together like it's the most practiced thing, tongues a second later, and Sana is stroking your cock in her fingers; the expectations clear in every little coaxing flick of her slim wrist.

"Do you have any idea," Sana sighs against her lips. The two of them, blinking up at you, like good little things - sweet enough. "How fucking wet you both have me?"

And Miyeon, shameless as she is disastrously pretty, reads right between the lines. "Where do you want it?" Her mouth tilts up to the side. A wicked smile. "He can cum all over us, no? And I have this skirt with an awfully short, pretty lace. We don't even have to take our clothes off, really, I can just-"

Sana gets an eyeful - Miyeon - before cutting her off, silencing with the wet press of her mouth, and suddenly their kiss goes frantic and quick. They're rolling apart: hands tearing up their clothes. Off. Off. Off.

Your cock stirs. It throbs. Fuck. Sana’s barely intelligible in the space between their tongues. "I could lay flat,” she’s saying, “with my legs open, and-"

"-with him on top of you, pressing inside you - so he could hold me down, and then pull all the way back out, to leave a thick load on your clit-"

"-and when he has to pull out-"

"-probably cum all over you too, the best view-"

"-or all over the rest of me, while I touch myself-"

"-maybe-"

"-and you just have to imagine how good that'll feel, while my thighs shake and we ride it out, you and I-"

Their faces - both flushed and dampened with the strain, both breathtaking. Their eyes are hooded, lashes a-flutter. They'd made their own decision, didn't even bother with yours. A mutual vote of two-to-one: you're going to fuck them in turns. You’re going to fuck them together. You're going to edge yourself in one cunt and fill the other. They're both going to take it, and wear it, and then use each other to make you cum again. Good. Okay, any questions - and they want it rough? 

The answer’s a two-part chorus. Yes.

-

Not even an hour later, Miyeon is playing, of all fucking things, Candy Crush, legs draped lazily across Sana's lap, both of them kicked back on the couch, dressed again like the best girls you've ever seen. "The amount of money they make on this app-" Miyeon complains, waving a lazy hand. A long strand of blonde brushes against the corner of her mouth before she swipes it away again with an irritated sigh. She's just sitting there, knees folded, blithely bitching about a game of match three on her phone. "And they send these fucking blocks just to mess with me," - another swipe. Her hair sticks against the fresh gloss coating her lips. "It's literally just a waste of human-fucking-potential."

"It's a game for children," you offer.

"Then why is it marketed at adults, hm?" She's absolutely serious. "Sana plays it too."

"Mhmm," Sana agrees, not really agreeing at all. Her eyes are closed; you're sitting next to her, and she's taken up your leg as a makeshift pillow, lying down with her arm resting on her forehead, so casually disinterested in anything other than the quiet thrumming of your presence by her side.

It's insane that they're like this: like they're not constantly checking their phones for texts, like you don't all have lives. You're almost - dare you think - having a semi-regular conversation. Now If for a moment you could ignore how they both look like the human embodiment of sin-

"Miyeonie," Sana says.

"Sana," Miyeon returns, flat.

There's not even a movie playing on the living room TV - just the netflix menu; it's volume is at a sort of white noise. A subtle buzz clicks on in the air conditioner.

"You know how you're supposed to go out with that guy next weekend."

"You mean the date you set me up with." Miyeon pauses, tongue caught between her teeth. "Where I have to put on a pretty little dress. And smile. And laugh at all his jokes."

"You know the one."

Miyeon jumps on Sana's train of thought. "You want me to send you some pictures when it's over."

Sana turns it over in her head a few times. “Maybe,” she says, finally.

A genuine exchange perhaps. No fighting, no bullshit, no riptide of pure unbridled sexual frustration.

"Or," Sana adds, simply, "you skip the part where you sabotage the small talk and come back to our apartment." She blinks. "End up getting us both."

“You’re suggesting I’ve been ruining dates on purpose?” Miyeon, incredulous, runs her fingers through the hair at the top of her head, gentle, almost like an admission of guilt. "You're out of your mind. Why would I do that?"

The fragile peace never does last long. Sana looks at you again. Holds onto the eye roll. "Why, indeed."

"I don't follow," Miyeon says; something, a tic, a tell, causes the muscle in her brow to stutter.

"She's suggesting that you'd rather be in bed between us than on a date with some guy whose face we've only seen once," you cut in. Sana looks over. "It's come up a few times."

"Okay, so what?" Miyeon takes a breath. Her mouth a rictus twist. "You're trying to get me to admit it out loud? That I like to get fucked by my gorgeous bestfriend and her pinterest-board-of-a-boyfriend more than I'd like going to a mediocre concert downtown with some dipshit who just wants to see if I'll stick out this 'goddess' routine for a month or two and then bounce for someone else. Wow. Sherlock and Watson, coming through for the killshot. Take me straight to jail."

"We never got around to those cuffs," is what you make mention of. It's not particularly helpful.

"Don't pretend," Sana says instead, "you don’t like to play both sides. Or that the trad-wife fantasy of yours is somehow subtle."

“There's nothing shameful about knowing exactly who you are, or wanting something," Miyeon insists. She tilts her head towards the two of you. A different angle. Her words come out sharp and hot: "some of us have the decency to let our friends know exactly what they want."

“Okay.” You laugh out loud, half out of nervous habit. "Well obviously there’s some sort of rhythm here - I’m just not dumb enough to think I can put a finger on the pulse."

"Then this is, what, some sort of elaborate plot for my heart?" Miyeon's chuckling to herself, but in the space of a blink her voice is more tender. Her arms folding in close. "Is that the plan, finally catching me-"

"Next week." Sana sits up. "There's a trip coming up, something kind of international." She picks at the hem of her sweater, and looks at you.

“What the hell, exactly” - you card your hand through Sana’s hair - “does ‘kind of’ international entail?”

"Ms. Prada has a modeling campaign to attend," Miyeon intones. "She also needs someone to take care of the jetlag, is what I assume this is about."

Sana waves her hand in the air. "I'm saying we book you an extra ticket. Rent a room at a nice hotel. No work. No phones. Just us three, and the best sex you've ever had."

“I wasn’t even aware I was going to that,” you say - almost as an aside.

“You weren’t.” Sana leans more of herself into you. "You are now."

"Is this how you're going to woo me? The grand design?" Miyeon's hands are fiddling in her lap. Sana’s pressing in. Closer. "All the sex and leisure I could ever ask for?"

“It sounds ridiculous when you say out loud,” Sana answers, curling into her. “But, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

Miyeon laughs like it’s a lost cause. Genuine, throaty - like music.

“Simplicity doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Miyeon.” Sana kisses her, slow. Quietly, "you could even pack a swimsuit," and there's this beat, the rise and fall of Miyeon's breathing that might lead anywhere: "though I doubt we touch the beach at all."

“You’re pulling on all my heartstrings, Sana.”

And there you are - etching your names onto the calendar. Reservations and bookings and promises of everything and anything and exactly where you all want to be.

It's Miyeon that finally admits, "you know part of me can’t resist the idea."

"Then, this weekend." Sana's fingertips trace circles on your hip, the tensing pull of muscle. You're aching and exhausted and content: drifting in the tide, a catch of the day, some soft, dreamy wave of consciousness, nothing specific, just the moment passing through all three of you.

But you do get it. There's this obvious snag in your heartbeat, too.

Because Sana is grinning; her fingertips, tapping. Your stomach's fluttering too. A little ghostly clutch of hope in your chest and it's such an embarrassing notion. You're getting swept away - pulled under - and it's Miyeon, splaying out beside Sana, her hand reaching out to you with her palm turned up. It's a promise, and the force of her can - and has - moved mountains.

"I pick the hotel," Miyeon's voice is deeply firm and sure. She’s got a fistful of Sana’s pajamas. "You two can sort out the lingerie."

Sana's mouth curves a perfect grin. She's kissing her again: wet. Heavy. It's not a no, if she was ever expecting one.

-

So that's your reality: what used to be two dalliances - separate but not distinct - now share one headspace, and there's enough rapport just in the group chat alone. You've all been messaging back-and-forth for weeks; Miyeon playing the game where she's the steady one in your life, the knot you're going to tie down when you can finally afford it (and in every way she can imagine). You find it entertaining. Sana seems mildly amused. And Miyeon will call you on the phone, sometimes. A chat-off. About nothing and everything. What you should bring on the trip. Where she's going to eat dinner before you meet her at the airport. Et cetera. Et cetera.

// Miyeon 1:21 AM > hey. I'm all finished packing. how's the bedroom looking?

// 1:26 AM > absolutely wrecked. no survivors

// Sana 1:27 AM > It’s fine. We stripped the sheets, got the box from the closet. Have the video you wanted as well. Call the laundry service in the morning and get the floor washed too. You know. So, nothing comes out of the security deposit.

// Miyeon 1:29 AM > a threesome that destroyed an apartment? say it isn't so

// Sana 1:34 AM > didn't hear you complain during.

// 1:38 AM > strict instructions, right?

And then sometimes, during those conversations, Miyeon will send an aside just for you:

// Miyeon 1:40 AM > strict? please. do whatever. I'm like so good at following instructions

That's Miyeon. The paradox of being submissive - you never, ever treat her gently. She never really wants you to. Sana's mid-reach over your chest to turn off the lights when she glances down at Miyeon's text, then promptly scoffs. The two of them don't always have the most conventional dialogue.

"She's one hundred percent serious by the way." Sana rolls on her side, away, but the nightlight beside the bed just manages to illuminate the slope of her ass - curved in the silk nightie she'd thrown on before bed. You want to crawl between the fabric.

"I never really doubted that. She's got a very specific... demeanor.”

“You’ve noticed.”

“Um,” you say. Sana’s turned over her shoulder to blink at you. “Kind of a dark streak. Like something in her is craving-"

"To be broken to pieces? Oh, it's fucking bliss for her when she's vulnerable and the tension cracks." 

“I was going to phrase it a little more indirectly than that, but yes, I suppose that’s the gist of it.”

Sana shrugs. 

"The girl lives to be chased is what it is.

It's just Sana and her perfect legs and smooth, creamy thighs right there, ready for you to touch, ready for you to fall apart over. They brush your calf, your thigh - so you are kind of distracted. 

“And she feels most wanted when she's choking, getting used, right at the point she can't decide if another inch is gonna kill her or drive her up the wall. No air in her lungs, nothing under her own control." Sana flops, presses against your side, one leg tossed on top, arms curled around your neck. "Pretty obvious, all things considered."

"Sounds a bit familiar, no?" you tease, and reach back to draw her against the front of your body. 

She curves, twists into your embrace. Her hair is half up, half down - wide eyed like a fantasy made manifest. You're always gonna give in, even when Sana doesn't deserve it. 

"You get me. It’s the best. Please, go nuts with the idea."

“Huh, birds of a feather.”

“Sure, whatever,” Sana brushes a kiss against your cheek, presses back into your hips to feel your hard length strain between your boxers and her ass, softening only because, god, she's a real human fucking treasure, "so maybe Miyeon and I have a certain… similar temperment to us, maybe that's true."

"Yeah," you breathe. Your arms wrap around her, the heat in her core now evident from the outside. "That's what I've been saying."

Sana doesn't respond to that, not directly; her palms drag, smooth, over your fingers. "Fuck me to sleep," she suggests instead. "We've got an early flight."

And so you do. You'd pulled your cock from your shorts the second she pressed her ass into your waist and claimed her place as your other half, the little spoon. There's a few beats, a few breaths, where you'd rocked against her clumsily, lining yourself up, and she'd braced the two of you:

She'd arched her back, got an arm over her head to tangle a hand into your hair and keep you right where you were - your lips against her neck. Until it's just this soft-rhythm, all easy thrusts; one arm underneath her, the other around her hip, finding and spreading and - easily - gliding into her cunt.

Sana sighs a lovely sound right next to your ear: your name, some hushed curse. Her hand is wrenched back into whatever group of muscles she can find. And you listen to the gorgeous little tritone of oh shit, oh god, oh fuck when you make her cum. The displays of indulgent affection in her throat, then the ruddy mess of you working her to a wreck of pleasured exhaustion until she collapses into a hot-faced, sleepy daze. All cozy between the sheets, the duvet - you’d fucked her from the outside in; made her relieved and relaxed, all loose and calm. Sana curls into you with her moans still staining the cool side of her pillow and the snugness of her cunt wrapped around your cock.

You drift off just like that, snug inside her. Sana is, as always, impossibly warm.

-

On your phone, there are some choice text messages:

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > jesus

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > can you guys like please

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > PLEASE

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > fuck any quieter

Okay, so it's not perfect. But you're about ninety-percent sure Miyeon had used every fiber of her willpower not to float across the hall and take her spot between the both of you. And it's probably for the best. You feel pretty rough when the alarm starts blaring as it is.

-

The room Miyeon picks out isn’t exactly small, nor was she minding the purse strings. There's a wide expanse of living area, a massive bed in the back; the ensuite and bath beyond that has a walk-in shower large enough for all three of you and room left over. On the walls is gentrification-colored paint, a gray laminate flooring to match; there is not one speck of dust. It feels every bit the palace it is on the outside - the gables and mansard roofs and the Juliette balconies - gothic, or neoclassical. Something vaguely European, with all its rich furnishings and pristine fixtures to boot.

Sana and Miyeon step into the space with all the familiarity of royalty.

"Warm in here," says Sana, appraising; her black chiffon, nearly translucent, fans about her hips with each tiny sway. In her white pumps, she's already a perfect tease and she hasn't even touched herself yet. "Smells good, though."

Miyeon's heels echo behind her like gunshots against the floor, and it's really not ever fair the way a skirt wears her. "The listing said something about a hospitality kit, and essential oils - there should be a basket of things. Do you want me to start the water?"

"Let's settle in a little first," Sana suggests, and without any fanfare, the first thing she does is draw the gauzy curtain closed.

There's an itinerary; it's an ongoing event. Technically it all started in the airport terminal when Sana slung her arm around Miyeon's waist and her hand went straight down to her ass. She just gave it a little squeeze. In the moment, nothing terribly remarkable, but then again, Miyeon didn't tell her not to. They walked through security like that and picked out drinks together from a terminal cafe before doing a circuit, fingers linked. The way Sana looks at her now - Miyeon sees - is how she's always looked at her. That is maybe, the whole point.

"Come here."

Sana's tone is smooth as silk, her mouth an inviting pucker, gloss-dewy and delicious. The bow is even tied at the back: Sana's collar is fitted snug. It sits tight at the base of her neck with the silvery cord loose across her shoulder, knotted down near the apex of her spine. It's simple, classic. All soft fabric and no frill, with an absence that invites eyes and wandering fingertips: she hasn't worn a bra. No strap lines. Her body has the sweetest outline and the warmest curves and god, the skin she's not showing is as good as what she is.

"So," you say out loud. It hits you: there's no cameras, no urgency. No obligations. "We came all the way here just so Sana could have sex, huh."

It's really always about the two of them.

"Good sex," Sana corrects. The table next to her catches the flat of her palm as she settles herself against the surface, one leg crossing in front. The slit in her dress rises in the movement: enough of a hint at the soft thigh underneath. You see her do this every once in a while and her body doesn't lie; this is an implicit act of seduction. But when she looks back up, her smile goes shy and her voice follows suit: "I promised our princess that we'd spoil her a little."

You say, "she's right there," at the same time Sana adds- "which is kind of impossible when she's still wearing her clothes."

Miyeon makes a big, showy production of crossing her arms in a huff. You could do anything; flip a switch; knock her flat against the wall, and Sana would hold her down with a hand at her throat and a kiss her like fire and gasoline on her tongue and no one would have a single word to say to complain.

You could have. Would have. But Miyeon finds her fingertips on the ridge of her clavicle, the barest swipe. She pulls at the top button of her shirt and the seam unlatches: a single reveal, a gradual, fluid movement in the dip and fall of a one inch gap. Just enough skin to make you and Sana swallow.

"Oh?" Miyeon grins. She stares at you with that coy smirk, biting her lip; an invitation for a kiss. For a fuck. You cross the gap, with every intention of making good on it; only, Sana slips in behind her - stops her midway in undoing the next button - and places a hand on the nape of Miyeon's neck, cool.

"She really can be a brat, can't she."

"Only because she gets rewarded for it," you admit, and as soon as Sana touches her, Miyeon is looking up with that same face she gives you when she gets on her knees, ready to be just your little pet, your desperate, whimpering thing.

Sana leans into her ear: "maybe because she knows she can't stop thinking about you bending her over, every chance she gets. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?"

They've always been like this, you think. Growing up with money and cars and ski vacations in the Alps: that sort of thing. It's been a long, slow, build-up and this was always the payoff. It is, without a doubt, just the slightest taste of luxury. Sana pushes, and Miyeon turns up to her mouth with a slow, dangerous whisper. "Isn't it kinder to say it as it is, instead of dancing around it for weeks-"

"For months," corrects Sana, and then sliding into a far more generous tone, "mouths, fingers- or his cock?"

"Maybe," Miyeon lifts her chin like she's readying to kiss, "all three."

Her voice drips - purses her lips, and you're there again: at that fateful exchange. Everything about Miyeon has the power to sink its claws deep. Those heels on her dainty little feet, the stockings climbing along her thighs. Everything.

"Miyeon." That comes out harsher than you'd have thought.

"What can I say? I'm not a patient person." She's got that wild, starry-eyed look to her. You could tame her. You could dominate her - your throat is so dry. The room has the faint scent of citrus, like lemon rind and verbena - a kind of lightheadedness settling over you all. "So, why don't you..." She's blushing, holding her arm up as she skims a finger down this slow path along your torso, finally hooking it into the top of your pants. And now, it's very, very clear she isn't wearing a bra either. "Make things a bit easier."

There's an entire lexicon of everything you'd like to do, so it's best, maybe, that you settle for: "Sana, be a doll."

"Anything," she says; she doesn't hesitate. You like the easy give.

And it's kind of amazing. All three of you together and, sure, the way her fingertips tighten, sliding under the curve of Miyeon's chin and then pulling the linen shirt down from the backs of her shoulders - this is a choice you can all agree on. One that pulls on the elastic band hugging the cut of Miyeon's waist, makes the material drag and ride up the front of her legs. Her belly. Sana has the gift of being able to kiss so perfectly on the back of someone's neck that you could easily forget she can get a little mean, too.

"What is it, baby." Sana asks; a challenge, not a question. "Come on, love. You know it's true. Why don't you let me show him how sweetly you moan with just a pair of fingers in your cunt."

"Please do."

"You're practically wet just saying it. You want it that much." Her voice goes thin, then deep again: a stark contrast. "Show him the mess you've made."

Miyeon's hand is in all the way in your pants; you feel hot. Like the room's air conditioning should've kicked on a lifetime ago - you're trying not to think too much on the way her slender fingers start to wrap themselves around the shape of your cock and your mouth falls open, because she can just - fuck - do that-

They turn to each other like mirror images over the slope of Miyeon’s shoulder, exchanging some secretive wordlessness in the privacy of their smiles and soft, muted laughter. Miyeon's on the toes of those pretty pumps to lean in, closer, further, and Sana lets her.

Which is exactly how it happens: Miyeon kissing you. And she really kisses you, sweet, delicate - and somehow all-consuming. It sets off this chain reaction, a wildfire of unbridled desire: that thread in Sana that can be almost violent, and one that Miyeon always manages to bring to the surface of her skin. Because now Miyeon's gripped and pinned, and Sana, bless her, pulls the fabric of her own dress up over her head until she's naked alongside her. Working towards a common goal. Here's two hands. Here's two more. They're helping you out of your shirt. It's pretty easy from there. You're all unraveling together, just falling apart - Sana and you, working in tandem to unclasp the pearl snap buttons trailing up and down the sides of Miyeon's sinfully short skirt, peeling back the cotton. Miyeon holds the swell of your cock tight in one hand, pumping, while Sana rakes her nails over Miyeon's breasts; both girls taking off the final scraps until every article of clothing is tossed to the floor.

And Miyeon here is simply unbelievable. Your hands are all over her. Her razor-fine waist, her thighs. Her lips. Those soft tits, and that cute mole above her nipple. Because even her imperfections deserve the same lavish attention.

You kiss her, and kiss her, and you can't help thinking how filthy it feels. This wet mouth and tongue, everything you could want in the slide of her mouth - just, messy-perfect and a bit sloppy; how her whimpers leak out in soft, a tight inhale. You cup the side of her jaw as your hips grind into her and a low, uneven sound escapes you. Sana's small fingers wrap her ribs to grip a breast, knead the supple curve and supply her thumb to the indent. It's really, so soft, and warm, and then wet: your precum dribbling over her knuckles, rolling down. Miyeon has her head tilted to let her jaw lean into your palm - she smiles, and laughs like it's nothing - like you're not there, towering over her lithe little frame. Like the head of your cock isn't brushing into her bottom rib under all the twists and jerks of her wrist.

"Your cock is so hard," Miyeon threads into a sigh, in that throaty, almost melodic voice. And then she laughs because she knows exactly what it’ll fucking do to her. "And fucking heavy. I thought I was going to get a real good look earlier in the airport," she confesses.

"Let me guess." Sana presses a kiss to her temple from behind; a lull in the scene. You fuck yourself gently into the curl of her fist. "You've been thinking about it this whole time. About getting him inside you. With that naughty little mind of yours running at a million miles an hour. God, that must've been such a tease, getting stuck with just the thought while we sat through lunch, and the flight-"

"Don’t forget right now-" Miyeon presses in. Her breath is hot against your neck. "While we're talking."

"Princess," Sana says into her ear, and it makes her tip her head - until she’s revealing the pale skin of her neck. God, yeah; maybe she really is nobility. "I'd be hard-pressed to leave you wanting. Your body's all wound up for us."

"She's fucking soaked," you confirm, like you aren't pointing out the most obvious thing in the room.

Miyeon bites her lip; you're gripping your shaft, urging her wrist to go faster. "This is the part where you turn me inside-out, no?" Miyeon is a walking fucking cliche and she knows it, smiling all slyly with her teeth. She says it so damn casually: "so why isn’t my pussy getting any attention, really. I wonder, I wonder-"

"Trust me, neither of us are interested in teasing," Sana assures her. "We're going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. And then we'll fuck you some more."

You push down hard on her collarbone, and in that same instant Sana drops her free hand below and runs the flats of her fingertips along the plane of Miyeon’s tummy - until Miyeon tilts her hips - everything else still, almost lazy. Her feet leave the floor and then come back down again. The momentum of the fall ends up being enough to jostle the three of you towards the nearest wall where Sana's back is kissing the cold drywall. And you're already there - pressed into both: Miyeon's palms flat against your chest as you haul her thighs around your waist.

Hoisted, lifted, cradled between you and your girlfriend - who by the way is inching two fingertips under the top of a lacy-banded thong, slipping beneath the white trim, to finally (oh, god) pull her hand away and slip it into Miyeon's parted mouth. "Look at you." A hum in her chest. "The most beautiful, perfect-"

(You push your cock into her, and hand to god, you swear Miyeon's voice breaks like a bottle over pavement.)

"And all for us- your slutty little pussy is already so wet- Miyeonie, we've barely even started.”

Just think. The code word system you've been employing for months - "We were actually thinking... if you're not doing anything else... what's the harm in the two of us getting more familiar with you." - has proved exceptionally reliable in getting Miyeon out of her clothes and into your lap, but here's where it all vanishes into thin air. Sana's mouth is hovering over Miyeon's shoulder; her body, caught between the two of you. And she's trading in on the implied permission to tell you more directly:

"She needs to cum all over that cock, babe. Fuck her pussy until she’s creaming, won't you."

"Right." You groan in tacit approval, hands holding firm onto the firm swell of her hips - that round little ass, the dimples you can feel the dip of, just under your thumbs. She's already thrown her arms up around the back of your neck when your cock slips inside her, to tug you in; this wordless begging: need, need, need.

It's not even a totally new sensation. Nor is it even the first you've ever been inside her, but god - Miyeon takes one deep breath, and on the second inhale, you sink another thick inch of your cock into her slippery slit: she's completely, gloriously bare, just this slick heat that only opens more and more and more. You draw back, thrust in, and there's this sopping sound, all wet press, into the soft muscle - you don't even remember pulling her panties to the side. But they're bunched into the crease of her thigh and that's rather convenient.

Her breath hitches as she slots down onto your shaft, again - in rhythm - like a total dream. "Fuck, that's so tight," she grates, her voice rough and gutted; something like, 'I cannot believe you feel this good.'

-and they groan in unison when you pick up speed. All of it. Together.

Because it's not just Miyeon's perfect cunt wrapping you up tight, squeezing and pulsing, even better on the backstroke - but it's the way Sana is catching your lips in the space over Miyeon’s shoulder. That you three can play each other with the promise that every last moan or gasp or the single, resounding thrill of pleasure will find a perfect partner: one for your mouth and one for Sana's fingers at Miyeon's collar bone, a tickle along her hip, pressing an insistent fingertip around and around in small circles, dipping into the give.

Her body's shaking so much through every push and pull. Fuck. She's so small - and you're the one filling her. Fucking her. Breaking her. Pressing two girls into the wall like you've earned the right. You're splitting Miyeon apart so that Sana can fill the spaces you leave empty and vice versa: and she's so, so desperate, the little noises she's making, "Please," like it hurts. "Fuck," like it's the best feeling. "Keep going, please, fuck- don't stop."

"See, baby? It feels better when you just give up, doesn't it?" Sana's got her fingers down further between Miyeon's thighs; you can see her swipe upwards. Hear the wet sound. She says, "there," into her ear. "Nice and slow, while he fucks that cunt, and I rub you like this, we want to keep making you feel good. So take what you need, hm. I don't hear you-"

"Oh my god," Miyeon moans. And she means it - feels herself dripping all over you. "I need it. I need it, I-"

"Come on, darling," Sana chuckles, soft and low in her ear.

"N-need," Miyeon chokes.

And what kind of idiot wouldn't take their palm off her breast, or undig their fingers from the round of her ass for even a second. It's having her in the palm of your hand. With one foot dangling against your thigh and the other tangled up above you, the stretch in Miyeon's body is entirely for the convenience of letting you fuck her to pieces.

"There it is," Sana is murmuring into your mouth again, and that’s a reward of its own, her wet, full kiss at the junction between Miyeon’s neck and shoulder as her thumb digs deeper into the curve of the girl’s thigh. You listen to Miyeon moan your own name, uttered like it was written by god and meant to form on her lips as it tumbles down through the ragged mess of pants and gasps.

“Fuck, baby-” You press harder. “Your pussy feels incredible- how you suck me right up like you're the good girl you love to pretend you are- like a perfect toy," you breathe, "-all nice and hot. Licking, swallowing around my cock, getting dicked out for my enjoyment-"

"Yeah, yes," she pants out, the total capitulation. "It feels so fucking good."

You feel the mindless, blissful roll. A rhythm in the give of her thighs as you slide home again and again. There's a clink from the bracelets on her wrists; her hair falling into her eyes; there's the sheer ecstasy written all over her pretty face when Sana reaches one hand to start drawing slow circles on her clit. 

"You're just fucking me so god-damn-good." She’s breathless; you’re taking everything from her. The poise, the finesse, the dignity.

"Of course we are," Sana supplies, and it's fitting. You're both holding her up. You'll be the ones tearing her down.

Miyeon's arms tighten around the back of your head, arching, squeezing, and there's that feeling that always accompanies Miyeon: like she's completely melting you to her core and turning your brains into fucking mush. Everything from her tight little pussy to her breathtakingly pretty eyes to the way her spine flexes to meet the pitch of her voice - it's fucking ridiculous, that she's even real in the first place - let alone that your cock is buried so deep in her cunt you think you can hear her sob. Or that all five-foot-two of her is making these tiny desperate noises as you use the width of her hips to bounce her harder onto your cock. 

Sana's long fingers slip and press - they're not touching anything except the swell of her pussy, just this ghostly brush of a light, almost chaste graze. It's enough: a touch like that, and fuck, another-

Miyeon cries out.

“I'm going to cum-"

"Say it again," Sana's whispering, "tell us what you need," and in a sort of coup-de-grace-style-of-climax, she bites at the skin over the top of Miyeon's jaw and slips a fingertip right onto her aching clit. Presses down. "You're such a fucking slut, Miyeon, such a gorgeous cocksleeve-"

"I-"

She's actually whimpering, the poor thing. Eyes squeezed shut, toes clenching; everything is trembling, tense with release. You’re fucking her into a puddle of a person, and she’s holding her lip between her teeth like it might do a goddamn thing. It makes sense; the tightness, and wet and heat is what she knows.

"Go on," Sana answers her, and it's like her words slice the voice in Miyeon’s throat to shreds, "cum all over his cock. So. Fucking. Good, baby," a hard push through every syllable as her teeth snag into the shell of her ear. She rides the boundary of degradation and downright debasement because she knows that’s how Miyeon will absolutely cum for her. For you, for both of you. "Do what you're fucking made for, and just take it, pretty, lovely, you can’t live a second without having his fat cock and my fingers in you, can you? You look like a filthy little angel like this, I swear."

You’re both on the same page, telling her over and over - shh, shh, you take that cock so well, feel that cock fuck you apart, baby, and all you have to do is cum - only, you’re paying homage to the title: you call her princess. Sana takes the opposite approach. Tells her, "you want everyone to know, don't you, what a goddamn fucking slut you are. You filthy, dirty little thing-"

It works. They both work, and so does everything else.

Your blood has gone totally hot. Like molten lava. Boiling over and about to spill.

The last thing Miyeon says: "Oh god - I'll be good, I'll do anything, I'll be your slut - Sana - anything-"

And it's one of the best lines to ever leave her mouth.

"-for this beautiful cock and these fucking perfect fingers, shit - fuck! Right there, right there, right-fucking-there-"

You fuck deeper, harder. The orgasm ripping through her muscles lets you leave marks and bruises you’ll be coming back to all weekend. Miyeon's face falls against the crook of your neck, mouth pressed there - you can feel every gasping inhale, the open-mouthed warmth of her body. It's you that whispers a shudder, half-voweled - "Miyeon," and she’s already there, so ready - it's kind of crazy how everything about this girl works so intricately and precise, like her very design was to take you to the hilt and melt all over your cock, because Miyeon's response comes as a mind-blanking:

"You can," a muffled whine in her throat. "Do it. Cum inside me. I want to-"

Sana’s eyes flare like she can feel that cable snapping, too. How your mind is all white noise. The torque of blood rushing through your head. You're thrusting deep into her well-fucked cunt with all the strength you can muster, your hips stuttering in the follow-through. When you catch the smile in her lips - the curl in her lips like she knows you’re about to spill everything, like the perfect siren’s call- you hear Sana over her shoulder: "fuck her. Use her. I think she wants to feel it in her fucking stomach - you know, the whole reason we’re here-"

You cum inside her - there’s no question - filling her tight hole up. Shit. You actually cum all over her too.

In fact, you manage to drag yourself all the way out from Miyeon, the wet quivers and hot aftershocks, all so Sana can get a good visual of how you’re fucking ruining her: the loose rope of white that streaks up her tummy, splaying out beneath her breasts. The absolute debauchery; it’s even more pornographic when your fist pumps another splatter of cum right onto the swollen lips of her pussy. Miyeon moaning on impact.

Sana supplies her own soft gasp, scraping the air past her teeth, tension hanging in the silence - and then you bury the rest of your load back inside her cunt.

And here's a feeling that's going to stick with you for a while. Beyond the fireworks in your pulse - the shake-ripple that leaves you with nothing, no muscles, no brain matter - you slide your cock through her cunt again, and again - just to feel how your cum pushes back out. And she's watching, she’s letting you watch: how messy she's become. Her tits. Her sweat-dewed thighs. How every second seems to bring its own unique ache. 

Really, you’re left only with a near mental blank. “God, Miyeon-”

You have just the barest capacity to consider the way Miyeon's trembling frame clings hard - pulling her ass cheeks down flush against your hips - your thick cock completely seated, stuffing her fucking cunt as she goes weak and submissive. You hold her there, suspended as your orgasm softens inside her and Sana hums along your lips, the soft coos spilling into Miyeon's ear: "what a messy, nasty girl. Princess needs to be full and leaking everywhere, doesn't she. How many creampies do you think you're going to ask for?” Sana laughs. “How many will ever be enough? I hope he gave you something worth begging for."

It's not really surprising how a feeling can hook its teeth into you when you're cumming like that. Subjugating the deepest reach of her sopping cunt to fulfill your own filthy fantasy. 

And look: Miyeon is soaked - soaked and wrecked and pliant. You kiss her and kiss her, and Sana kisses you, kisses her too, all of it muddled up - and your mouths are a mess. Your hands go into her hair, onto her ass; there's cum down her thighs and all over the floor. The smell of you three: her slicked arousal and your sweat and Sana's expensive perfume. 

Here, come come - Sana is a flurry of activity; she's helping Miyeon out of her second heel after you'd fucked the first one off her foot without bothering to get the strap unhooked. There's her careful proclamation of, "thank god the walls aren't paper," as you practically carry Miyeon to the edge of the sofa, this dreamy vision of messy hair and a royally-befit-blush. In the whole world, not once has Miyeon looked like anything less than nobility.

And now's no different, really.

You sink down onto the plush, tufted fabric - a chair whose shape might confuse you if Sana hadn’t told you earlier it was explicitly built for fucking, or whatever it is you're doing. She's smiling at you, settling her face right onto your shoulder and peering up.

"Sana," she says wistfully, but looks right at you. "My legs are still a noodly-mess. Could you turn on the jets in the tub?"

"And leave the two of you unsupervised?" She jokes. "Never."

Miyeon sticks out her lip. Pouts, almost: "it'd just be a second."

"She's only asking for a minute," you add in.

Sana rolls her eyes. "And since you've suddenly turned into two hopeless idiots, it can't be trusted. If I'm drawing a bath," a flick of the gaze, "the least you can do is join me. A chance to recover if nothing else."

Miyeon, being Miyeon, has already dropped her face down to your lap, curling up with your cock at her lips. When she gets her first, tantalizing, almost chaste little swipe at the tip, she smiles all impressed with herself. With those big brown eyes, her fingertips skating delicately along your stomach, and her dark lashes beating slow - all of Miyeon, right now, is on purpose, calculated. Precise. 

Her voice is even worse: "she wants her own go first, don't you think?"

Sana watches where your fingers thread into the ends of Miyeon's silky hair, just the gentlest twist and tug. How you have her mouth ready and open, waiting; how Miyeon glances over for approval.

"Well," Sana turns a cheek, "he's already so worked up." Her dark eyes look towards you - a mock frown. "I don't know if we can convince him otherwise."

Miyeon's throat clicks - she's not choking yet, but left to her own devices, she will be. Her expression melts into an almost-gasp as your cock fills the empty space in her mouth. There's that plush little gag as she opens, lips wet. You rock your hips, and then you get to watch her nose kiss the trail leading up the smooth plane of your belly.

"I could go for a soak," you admit, with Miyeon drooling on your cock.

Because Sana's doing that thing where she turns around, has the smug look over her shoulder. Makes a slow, teasing movement that leads your eyes from her pretty face all the way down the cut of her back, until finally she's pushing the soft waves of her hair into one hand so that her ass is perfectly presented-

And jesus, sure: the sloping hips, the inviting lines - the sharp points and soft edges, where she is and isn't; her cupped fingers come up to her own chest, just to show off the heft of her tits, hanging heavy. Everything is sensually posed. You're only a little bit mesmerized. Her figure has always had the cut of a pinup model. Curves like a siren. Her waist to hip ratio is - oh-fucking-kay, maybe you could do it right now - bend her in half - get her fucking sobbing until you kiss her quiet and cum so deep in her cunt it's all she can think about for days-

You realize then you're pulling too hard on Miyeon’s hair.

Not meaning to, or maybe too eager.

Hey, you have a pretty girl sucking life back into your cock and one more giving you bedroom eyes from across the room all ready to sit on it; you never said you weren't trying your best.

"Careful, honey. I'm getting impatient." Sana's hand traces the wallpaper trim in the hall, a sweeping path; a vague reminder as she disappears down and around the corner. You hear the squeak of the faucet and then the sound of her light footsteps. And then it's just an echoey and unapologetic, "one day I might not let you have all the fun," followed by, "my goodness-"

Sana, appraising her reflection in all likelihood. All bright smiles

You turn back to find a second set of eyes staring back, full of hunger, as a wet, messy heat wraps around the base of your shaft and follows to the top with the flutter of her tongue - and then all the way to the back of that tempting throat. Miyeon's moving at the tempo you'd put her at. You appreciate that. But you lift her jaw and hold the side of her face so she's looking straight at you - and as soon as you pop yourself out from between her lips, you say, "you'll let me taste Sana, too, won't you, baby?"

(Miyeon's never been good at saying no - to anything. That doesn't change here in the slightest.)

The way you laugh is easy and sweet. You kiss the space over her temple. "We've always been in this together, Miyeon," a soft tease. "Go ask her nicely, and I bet she lets you clean me up," before adding, "maybe, after you lick all the cum out of my girlfriend's tight ass."

And Miyeon simply grins. The promise of that sloppy fucking mess. She's ruined herself time and time again over far less.

"Oh," she says, "you know how good I look with cum dripping down my chin.”

It's kind of impressive how shameless she can be. So fucking blase - what are friends for, anyway.

“Shall we?"

You scoop Miyeon right up into your arms and, upon standing, swing her little body around in front of you. And she knows that's the sort of thing she shouldn't enjoy: being manhandled, told what to do, having someone lift the choice off her shoulders like that - but that doesn't stop her from tangling herself up around your neck and tilting her hips back into you in that playful-fake, overly innocent-cute mien - where she says in this tiny whisper, "are we, you think?"

Your mouth lands on her ear, nips the softness there, "behave yourself, sweetheart."

And then a low, breathless laugh escapes her: "when's the last time that was even an option."

-

(For the record, the answer is never, and you're probably actually so fucked - it's kind of hilarious to look back at it, and think, because how could any two people who have spent as many weeks (months) as you, putting all the right pieces into the right places, get all the stars align at once? The idea that the three of you are hooking up and nobody's getting hurt, murdered or hung out to dry is statistically improbable; and the likelihood that anyone in this presidential suite will survive the weekend without breaking at least four limbs in various places is rapidly dropping with each passing hour. You've been taking the old adage and clutching it against your chest - 

It can't be a sin, if it makes you happy.)

-

Past the door, the first thing you notice is that Sana's hair is all pinned up. Always pretty like that.

However it doesn't change the picture a whole lot. A few inches more bare skin isn't exactly a big difference when there's the whole, naked, porcelain expanse that spans the soft length of her shoulders, along her hips and waist, and runs to her feet. It's still kind of incredible. The hourglass shaped silhouette. All the natural curves finding relief in the right places. Model-esque, that sort of thing. And, yes: her tits, the absolute heaven-sent frame of her ass and those amazing legs.

It goes without saying.

She's there with her back arched, an arm perched on the granite of the counter. So relaxed. An elegance only afforded to the very lucky or the very rich. She lets her head fall back, the fine curve of her chin canting above a neck that you would've been biting kisses into just moments ago if she hadn't put herself in full profile to take your breath away.

"Show off," Miyeon mumbles, and then whispers to you, "sorry. My body can't do that, like-" she indicates - with a weird wobbly hand gesture, about the height of Sana's pelvis. "Whatever that is."

Sana tilts her head forward and meets the glance you give her reflection.

"Hmm," is her eloquent contribution to the airy room, woven into the pitter-patter of bathwater, lapping at the surface. "Now why am I left to wonder why there's no one making good on my requests, huh."

You cross the space; get close. And Miyeon stays curled up against you, doesn't let you slip away as you walk over, doesn't let go. She kisses the front of your shoulder, hums softly.

"My bad," You say. It's very believable. You sound a bit winded; kind of a wreck, but your sincerity shines through in that sort of 'I'll fuck it better' kind of way.

"Excuses, excuses." A dismissive shrug. "The water's perfect. But if you insist," and the sultry drop of Sana's eyelashes is deliberate, an invitation. Her breath is caught as your mouth finds the space between her neck and shoulder blade - the place where she's gone all pink, "I'd hardly pass up the chance for you both to eat my pussy first."

And look: it's not a lie, per se, but the natural instinct for Miyeon-logic is just to provide the justification, "the faster we get you a cumming, squirming, desperate mess-" her hand slips to cup the junction of her jaw and the crook of her throat. "-the sooner it'll be 'til he fucks me senseless again."

"We have a long way to go to get even, sweetie," argues Sana. "Last time, you were both pretty self-absorbed."

"We'd never ignore you on purpose," you whisper into the crook of her neck, and Sana turns to let you follow that deep, velvety mouth as the kiss flows across her lips. "You're absolutely necessary."

"Only by accident, then. That's a little bit worse," snarks Sana. The reprimand dies down into something soft as Miyeon lets her tongue trail flat over a nipple. She shudders.

"If I keep going, maybe you can forgive us?" You watch her eyelids flutter open, a haze of ecstasy passing behind her eyes. You keep an arm at her hip, wrap around and press flat until her whole flat tummy is pinned against your cock.

"Mmm," Sana hums. It's that sultry note she likes to let trail from the very end of her throat. "Ask me again after you get me off. But slowly: I want to savor every detail."

Miyeon traces kisses across Sana's rib until your girlfriend presses two wet fingers to her mouth. Easy.

"Then you should probably do something about her," you say, and - as if in agreement - Sana twists her hand into the cascades of her Miyeon's hair. You lean into her shoulder. She sighs; exhales, deeply, while her back is shimmying further backwards into the countertop.

"And you should help her make it up to me," Sana chimes, her voice clear and melodic, every inflection playing right at home in her vocal cords. "Two mouths are better than one, and I have so many other places you should be kissing."

Sana has a verifiable gravitas, for one, and when she's not hiding in plain sight behind the bubbly-bright act she likes to put on, it's nearly impossible not to fall in line behind her. This isn't to say you couldn't win her over either; it's a pretty small crowd here. But you choose one direction and watch her skin pink up and turn to red; you grab a wrist and it goes cold and white. Every last part of her is so damn expressive. The point is that she doesn't need you to make a fool out of yourself to know you're into her - or vice versa.

(Or. You're such a goddamn sucker, as Miyeon likes to remind you with a scoff, a little eye-roll, and then her hands on your belt. At least, before everything else: the knowing smirk, the dangerous suggestion).

You let your fingers find the backs of Sana's thighs as she spreads her knees apart, and there, you're reminded of the one thing. That of all the ways these two girls are identical, you've never found a comparison that really works. Not by any useful measure.

Miyeon has all the softer features: a bit dainty, the doe eyes and the lone dimple, like a doll with an aw-so-cute factor, whereas Sana is all sharp, clean angles; the sculpted muscle in her calves and thighs, the firmness and muscle underneath - which, yeah, definitely not the worst trade off. Don't get it confused, both girls crave your approval; both prefer when things get rough and sloppy. Describing either as anything but the most submissive holy-shit-take-me-now-I-need-you type, when put under the slightest pressure is laughable.

Not when Miyeon lets you use her like a toy. Or when Sana tells you exactly what you need to do to fuck a baby into her (hypothetically speaking; she gets a little silly and dumb around the edges whenever she's about to cum and her brain starts tripping over her tongue). Neither will hesitate when given the option of having your hand on the side of their throat, pinning their wrists to the headboard or the shower wall, fucking them until they go liquid and collapse in your arms, shivering, whimpering and begging, their pussies pulsing around your cock. In fact, there's really no hard or fast rule at all. But here, you recognize, is a great point of difference -

"Baby," you murmur into the inside of Sana's thigh. You leave a mark with your lips that you’ll come back to. "So. Fucking. Gorgeous-" right as Miyeon starts pressing her mouth against her cunt. "Aren't you, baby? The most beautiful girl. And all of this is just mine?"

Listen - the praise kink your girl has is actually pretty textbook: Sana wants to be called sweet, she wants to be complimented, rewarded, and all that good stuff; she wants you to talk to her the way everyone who sees a flash of her skin or a sway of her hips wants to - the best parts of adulation, arousal, love, without any of the side-eye of it being totally obscured in a crowded venue.

Direct.

To the point. 

She wants to hear each and every you're sexy, you look hot, your ass drives me crazy. She wants it on the gruff in your voice, how it gets a little rough at the edges. Tell me you're mine. You make me so hard. This is just the very essence of who Sana is, and you have learned that you need to give as well as take: feed her a tiny ego boosting here and there, and she will completely throw herself at you in return.

Miyeon watches you run your tongue over her cunt like she’s taking notes, and it’s clear you’re more than prepared to give it all up to her. There's always been this veneration, this reverence for every inch of her, a pull towards her - her eyes, her mouth, her wrists, her long beautiful legs, the place where the skin of her thighs meets - you've always had this insane fascination with Sana, this need to know what she'd taste like or sound like. At any given moment.

"Oh," Sana pushes Miyeon closer, moaning. "Yours. So yours, baby."

The moment you both have your tongues working at her - tasting, the sweetness of her dripping down onto both of your faces, making you lick your lips and kiss each other so Sana gets to watch - Miyeon hums approvingly. Lets out this very performative, "isn't she just the best?"

And it isn’t that you can't find the right word - divine, wonderful, heaven, incredible, without any flaw - there just isn't much room to read into the fact that you and Miyeon are both sunk to your knees on the bathmat, kneeling in worship, in adoration - sucking on Sana's clit. The imagery sells itself.

"We'd never forget the important things," Miyeon continues, dreamily.

She's trading with you the folds of Sana's dripping pussy and the outline of her lips for her thigh. You pick up where she leaves off, and that earns you Sana's hand raking through the back of your hair, pressing you so close you can hear her heartbeat in her pulse; her blood burning through the very spot.

“That's how you make me feel, baby: so fucking good. Amazing." You taste it. You chase it. There is nothing like her cum filling your mouth. "Pretty. Mine. All mine."

“Yeah, okay - sure - that feels really fucking good.” 

Sana's orgasms always start slow; a slight adjustment of her hips, the rub of one calf against the other, she's never been the quiet type but there's not quite the screaming or yelling just yet. Her jaw is set.

"You're, uh-," she adds, failing at anything else.

Miyeon tries for it. That edge of danger; not in pain or frustration, but, "there you go, sweetie: you sound so fucking pretty when you're worked up. Just tell us - the words, we need the words to make it good, baby."

"Fine," says Sana, tilting her head down, breathing deeply, and she makes a sound that's neither a whimper nor a laugh, but a crossroads of both. "Right there, oh my god, you are so fucking dangerous, holy shit. Oh, please. Please. You two- just, please, don't you dare- just a little bit - mmm. Why do you have to be so good at that?"

"Right?" Miyeon laughs out loud - like you're the one missing a vital point, like it's your fault your face is buried in her folds. “I used to think guys just didn’t like doing it. And then, well-"

And you drag your tongue flat and up over her pussy, right through that whole slicked up slit, your fingers still pumping in and out, and then you flick it just hard enough to-

"-yeah," she huffs, panting.

Miyeon presses her thumb into the mess of Sana's cunt, and it causes Sana's whole body to shudder apart - you lift your face to breathe, or to promise, "we can go for hours if you want, taking turns making you cum," before pressing into her again, and Sana's only got so much patience and stamina when you're two steps ahead of the curve, because her legs are practically going to wobble off her body.

"Poor, pretty baby," Miyeon murmurs against her, and she's talking like she’s taken all the control now. Operating in that cycle of push and pull.

And to her point: Sana is whining, gasping - every bit as hot and bothered and needy. She's whispering please and not giving up her requests.

"Fuck. Okay, sorry-” she apologizes. For some reason.

Your nose keeps getting bumped, her cunt is grinding down into your chin. That is fine. If it keeps on like this, your whole face will be soaking wet.

"I'm going to just- going to go ahead and cum, I think- so fucking. Yeah, keep on going just like, shit, please: my pussy is fucking throbbing."

This is the easy part, if you've read the rest right. If the hours and the minutes, and all the passing days: you know which direction the pieces are about to fall.

Sana arches her spine, rolls her hips into your face, and when you swirl your tongue all over the wet heat at her core, the sound she makes is music: low, throaty and delicate. Your mouth is attached to her clit still when you look up over the hand you have steadying each tremble in her diaphragm. And possibly as a sort of vengeful maneuver, Miyeon is shoving two fingers under your jaw and far enough into Sana's pussy that each curl of a knuckle is all that’s left to find Sana cumming right onto your mouth, your chin. 

She wants to scream, to cry out, but her mouth joins her face, in that frozen expression of anguish, of an absolute that perfect pleasure.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Miyeon consoles, standing up, leaning in - close, really, impossibly close; she presses their foreheads together, murmuring against Sana's ear, whispering what-do-you-need, there you go. Baby, that was perfect. They each know the song and dance. They can shamelessly recite each other's lines. Miyeon slides an arm to the small of Sana's back, one across her shoulders, and Sana leans against her with this gorgeous look of a perfect, mind-numbing orgasm on her face, her eyes bright, her lashes fluttering - a sheen of sweat across her forehead; your stomach falls and bottoms out; you can't not be fucking attracted to these two. Miyeon smooths down her hair, reassuring her. Her hand reaches lower, wraps around her, pulls.

The bath is well filled at this point, water near overflowing, and Sana is equally fucking soaked. This storm of wet and hot beneath your lips. You clean her off with the broad stroke of your tongue and don't spill a drop, because the noise she's making - it sounds like rapture, ecstasy. She's half-delirious, panting, with her hands gripping the sides of your head.

"Where," she gasps, trying her damnedest. You have the best girls in the world, you really fucking do. Miyeon rubs the heel of her palm against the soaked, red hood of her cunt. Sana lets out a sound halfway between a gasp and a groan; the arch of her hips chasing Miyeon's touch; "you, are you two - god damn, if I hadn't already-"

"Shhh. My poor girl. You're not thinking about his cock just yet," and those are Miyeon's slender fingers coaxing your jaw free from Sana's cunt, prying her free from you so she can sit alone at her throne. "They always keep lube in these kind of places," Miyeon reaches into a drawer, fumbling about. It takes a moment for it to register that she's actually talking to you. "It usually looks like some body oil, you know the nice massage kind, in these tiny bottles. Help me look, will you?"

It does not take long - hotel management understands what these rooms are for. The scandal and the romance and everything in between. Because Miyeon finds what she’s looking for in the next drawer down: a sample-sized container of massage oil, something slippery and organic. It smells vaguely of lavender.

"Look at me," Miyeon tells you, and Sana is absolutely listening along too. It's all very seamless: Sana and then Miyeon. All the synchronized parts. Their signals have some sort of feedback even if you're not always actively aware of the things they pass back and forth.

Miyeon guides Sana onto her shaky legs, turns her toward you - So you swallow, hard, and run your thumbs into the crease of her ass - you're kneeling, still, still totally naked and wet all around the jaw. "Eat her ass, and I'll keep her cumming until she can't feel anything else."

You shift your weight and run a kiss along the tender skin at the back of Sana’s thigh. The contact has her bracing a hand on the counter for support.

“And then-” Miyeon says, with a gleam in her eyes like she knows what the fuck she wants. She slides back down to the floor until Sana is pinned between a rock and a hard place. Her two favorite people in the world: namely, your hands gripping Sana's hips, and Miyeon's tongue all over the aching little clit you'd just had your mouth wrapped around moments ago.

"And then?" you provide, hovering a kiss onto the beautiful round of Sana's ass. Her fucking cheek. You have to slap it. Just a little. And when you watch it ripple back and forth with your handprint there, a spot of pink already blooming, well, she has to be giving you a sultry look that demands to know when it is exactly that you are going to stick your cock inside of her, and it is absolutely just impossible to look anywhere else.

"And then," Miyeon supplies, "we're going get that beautiful cock in her ass so you can fuck her brains to mush."

"Thanks I guess, for the explicit permission," you scoff, and here you drop your lips, trail them into the crack of Sana's ass, up and down, teasing the taut stretch of her hole with the tip of your tongue.

"Someone has to take responsibility for-," she pulls on Sana's leg and stretches it forward, repositions her ever so slightly. She sucks Sana's clit into her mouth with an exaggerated sort of satisfaction.

You wait for Miyeon to continue, and then realize with the unshakeable notion: she isn't going to, because it's too damn much trouble. There is no reason to pull apart the premise and not the girl straddled between your faces. The only option is to follow her lead, and to worship Sana. To trace every crevice of her, lick between her ass and the sensitive, clenching heat of her pussy.

"Can we, like, take a timeout-" Sana's mouth is slurring into the skin of her forearm. Her upper thighs are quaking, quivering as you sink your teeth in. Her head's gone all heavy as a slutty little moan rings out and straight down her lungs.

And maybe the realization is setting in. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until you all can't think - until you're nothing but primal urges, nothing but bodies with beating, pounding hearts; and every thought in Sana's head will be to the two of you; to Miyeon, whose hand finds the front of Sana's stomach and guides her pelvis into rolling forward and grinding into her mouth, to you, with your tongue lathering and lapping at her asshole, and running your hands around her hips until her whole body's shaking, "oh fuck, my god-" 

(The writing is on the wall. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until none of you know where you end, where the other begins.)

Sana tries again, and the question ends in a deep, rumbling, "don't you want, Miyeon, wouldn't you rather just really, fucking love, having his thick cock stretch you apart," - she swallows - and when she glances behind her back and finds you watching her, there is just pure, unadulterated arousal burning through her eyelashes, over the flare of her ass.

You catch the fucking bow of her lower lip wobbling as she adds, a little more pointed and a lot more determined, "when you're, fuck, begging and screaming for his load? To be his cumdump, his little bitch," it's like she's got her heart set, and her mouth can't stop moving fast enough, and "to do whatever he wants just because it makes you look and feel so damn hot?"

You can hear Miyeon's mouth smacking with the way it works, the way she is swallowing, gasping. You can hear the sound she makes when her mouth goes loose, and says, agreeing, "you're going to love it Sana, every god-damn-inch, you always do" and Sana is falling apart again into your grip, moaning, and then "it's so much better. All the stretch, that tightness. But she needs your fingers first.

You can hear Sana gasping too, dripping a mess into the place where her pussy and ass meet. Miyeon licks a wide strip from her core all the way up and kisses it. Lick. Kiss, lick - her hands pulling Sana closer by the hip - kiss, kiss, lick - pulling her mouth around your girl's clit. So close to the place in Sana's bubbly cheeks, where your mouth supplies long sucks and soft kisses - so close you can practically taste the scented flavor in Miyeon's lip gloss.

"I can't- shit. Hold on, guys," Sana whispers. It's her nails scraping against the granite. "You need to-" and then the loud, dull thwap of her knee knocking into the cabinet. 

She's cumming again - this time, loud and guttural, but another really beautiful sound - her cunt pulsing hard into nothing while the air hangs in limbo, Miyeon's tongue circling her clit, your palms around Sana's beautiful, round ass. You're half convinced they'd be fine with being locked away in some tower. Forget the world and its obligations. Or, rather: let the world stop spinning; leave only this.

There is not much talking from then on. 

Mostly whining, whimpers and pleas to: not stop, yes, there, yes, please, fuck, and Miyeon wraps her fingers around you - almost the same thing she did when you were pumping your cum into her quivering cunt earlier, asking, please, may I-?

Sana bends herself over the counter, like something instinctual. The perfect bend and arch in her spine, the bow of her knees and the press of her thighs. Inviting, pleading. You can feel the tingle, the stiff tension in the muscles, when you reach out and lift her ass; it gives so easily to your touch. Your palm, her cheeks. There's a beautiful flush as the pink starts to run, fade, and reappear along her back, and - fuck, okay, seriously-

Miyeon's there, kneeling next to you: stroking her fingers up your length. She’s kissing you too. It’s hard to think.

But the sound of the cap coming off the bottle comes like an alarm clock, pulling you out of a dream.

Miyeon sits on her heels, smiling into the press of your lips as the bottle she procured tips out. Clear, viscous and smooth into her palm. When it becomes a lot of dripping; she swirls it against your cock - her knuckles wrapped around you, running and twisting into every curve, sliding her whole grip with long, calculated strokes.

"I don't think she's in any condition to keep a tally," Miyeon announces, "so, why don't you decide?"

"Meaning?" you're panting; your brain keeps working to formulate complete thoughts.

"Meaning," she slips her tongue against yours, slides her teeth and draws into your lower lip, "you should totally pound her gorgeously tight little ass" - another kiss, mostly on your lower lip; almost a bite - "and then you should dump that massive load of yours" - a shudder rolls through her shoulder and leaves a whisper in her wake - "right inside mine."

There are about eight thousand words in the English language but what you say is, "fuck."

Because she's right: Sana is blathering the moment you stand up and let your hands reach around, grab hold of her full, rounded hips. She’s not in any state to protest or complain about matters of equality or correspondence. Her lips and tongue are barely even fit to say anything but yes-yes-please-anything, oh god.

Which, okay, whatever: of course, whatever the fuck she needs - whatever they need - you pull at her hips until it's there, your cock sandwiched between those full, warm ass-cheeks, the perfect amount of pressure to get you so fucking hot, and Sana's not shy about rolling her hips to keep you pressed to the surface, rocking into your balls until her cunt's making slick, wet, hungry noises and she's just one endless, groaning moan.

"Love feeling your cock," Sana mutters; and there is a, "please, fuck me, baby- please?" thrown in for good measure.

"Please do, you're like - you're like ridiculously gifted," Miyeon adds, always the right touch of caustic.

"-please."

Sana's eloquence is short lived, because the second you give her ass a squeeze and Miyeon presses her thumb against Sana's cunt, her voice catches on her throat.

She sounds perfectly winded, completely out of breath, a tiny, sexed-up growl running through the notes as she speaks to her reflection in the mirror. Miyeon laughs. She can hardly get her own shit together when you lean up and grab a breast in hand, or start leaving slow-but-steady bite marks along the back of her shoulder blades; like it's all-too funny when you pin Sana to the counter until she starts to beg in that please, please, please tone: when every syllable and gasp is hitched and short.

"She doesn't want gentle," Miyeon tuts, finding her place next to Sana, holding her chin in her hands and catching the expression on her face. She presses a thumb into Sana's mouth for no reason other than: they're so soft. Wet. Pink and full, parted around her fingertip. "Isn't that right, baby?"

Your gaze follows their hips, swaying. And from this angle: identical. The hair, the jawline, the arch of the throat and shoulders, the elegant twist and fold of their limbs, the eyes, the blush, the smile, and the legs. They don't have to look exactly the same: their presence is near identical - Miyeon's the cuter one, sure. It's been established, but fuck, the look on Sana's face as you spread her asshole with just a finger is fucking dangerous. You're going to lose your mind. Both the flat tummies and the beautiful breasts and their matching hard nipples - and the fucking two best asses the world has ever seen. A line up over the counter: Miyeon and Sana, side by side; their reflections looking at you in tandem, wearing these same expressions. The eyes begging, asking and insisting, the pouting lower-lip and the glassy sheen of their eyelashes.

You tell them: "how am I supposed to" - you run the thick-glistening head of your cock along the pucker of Sana’s tight ass, grind your hips into the friction - "focus when you two look at me like that?”

"Um, just give up," says Miyeon, grinning; and then, when your jaw snaps closed and there's the obvious shift of your hips as your length strains through your body's need and pulls you closer to that incredible, tight, dark hole: "god, there you go. That is so fucking hot."

So, it's just like this:

They watch each other. The mirror is right there; every want, every motion. 

And then, yeah, a low and throaty, "is that it?" - Sana nods into Miyeon's hand and smiles, with just the slightest hint of something that could resemble a blush - "why we always come back to him? Because, really-"

"Mmm." Sana hums agreement, dazed and drunk in her words, the slow breath of air you push out of her chest as your cock starts to sink in; the deeper the intrusion, the lower your names become - just murmurs and sighs and sounds: "god, yes, god-"

Her pussy starts to drip onto the tiles, her slick collecting at Miyeon's knees as Sana takes you all the way: and you hold, once you're all the way in; once that gorgeous little puckered rim has stretched around your entire width; there's just the smell of the room; lavender and rose and citrus - Sana's endless arousal - and you hold, and hold on tight - and your muscles shiver as Sana draws the first rocking motion of her hips.

The smallest, lightest grind.

"Jesus fucking christ," you curse, because the heat around your cock is excruciatingly tight. A slow-burning, tingling-aching pleasure as the flesh inside Sana's ass moves up and down the length, drawing out inch by inch of skin - until your entire cock is nearly pulled out.

You're the one that drives all the way back in.

Sana gasps. She runs her hand through her hair. She tries her damndest to remember what words are, clearly coming up empty.

"Baby." Miyeon is kissing her forehead, her nose, her lips, and coos praises in her ear. She sinks her fingers into the curve of Sana's immaculate ass, pulling on the soft cheek, showing-

You are speechless. It's just: that next stroke. And another. Your cock slipping in and out with each pass, so easy once Sana sighs, licks her lips and leans into your rhythm, there, all at once and then faster. And she looks in the mirror, because of course; of course she watches Miyeon run her hand all over her front, the perfect tits and a pretty stomach - your thrusting keeps up until every thrust has her hips rolling forward and snapping back, chasing her own momentum; chasing that thick, hard, stretch of cock and that beautiful pleasure-pain as the force and pace rocks her, pounds her so her entire body has to curl against Miyeon's chest for support, so that she's going a little weak in the knees.

"How is he?" Miyeon's tone gets wicked in these situations, a lot less innocent. She gets excited, giddy. "Pretty, handsome, stupidly attractive," her voice picks up a playful lilt, and she gets you grinning - it's only the start. "And he's all yours. But how's the cock, huh? He's gaping your ass so pretty. Your hole is so fucking open around him. It looks incredible, doesn't it?"

Sana reaches for the side of her ass, presses her fingertips to her skin: pulls and splits a fingernail into the tender flesh where her ass and thigh meet - right above her cunt. You snap your hips into hers and watch your cock disappear. Every motion gives, slurps and sucks until you're hilted inside her.

"Feels, mmmm - fuck." Her chest is fluttering, every part of her so fucking flushed, her blood running beneath the surface so every single inch of her skin is saturated with her own need, her want.

"Feels so good," you growl, your vision gone dark around the edges. Miyeon's there, vaguely, smirking into Sana's jaw, licking at the sweat, scraping her teeth along the skin to bite down, pull- "she's so fucking tight. Gripping the hell out of my cock. Like, it feels unbelievable, you know."

"Babe," she cries, though you give her no respite - you use that little sliver of slack and pull out far enough that she'll know it when your cock is hammering into her ass, a little more aggressive, and you start with quick, hard pumps that echo throughout the room - not for your pleasure or hers: just to hear it, listen, you're driving up so far into that perfect, gorgeous ass that it sends her tits rocking and rolling with every bounce of her chest; her moans, her babbling incoherence, are, again - it's like a drug - and Miyeon's smiling. And also, getting herself off.

"So pretty," Miyeon says into her temple, "with his cock fucking open your ass." And she has her fingers swirling, swirling, in little patterns around her cunt, grazing over a wet clit, like the way you're pounding Sana's ass and dismantling her whole consciousness is absolutely the most arousing thing ever, like Miyeon could stay and watch forever, like Sana's the most beautiful person in the world, and Miyeon would be right here with her every second - whispering praise in her ears - "god, babe, if I could, I would never pull his cock out. You take him so well, don't you? You're just made for it. He could stretch you out over and over and we could, you know - be fucked silly - no thinking - for, like, forever. All day long."

Sana's fingers claw, gripping at the bowl of the sink, while Miyeon has her hand glued to her clit, playing herself.

Miyeon doesn't wait - but she asks anyway - and of course: she's leaning up, in, nuzzling Sana and saying: "yes?"

"So," is all Sana gets out before gasping, because the sight, it's too much to not let yourself feel a little power drunk, and there is a sudden thrust that practically turns the poor girl's voice into a croak. "Yes. Fuck - fuck-"

You don't really have any clue where this is coming from but: "Miyeon, here, take this cock. Come get what's yours you fucking cocktease," and, whatever - who needs thoughts? Your girlfriend's already bent over the bathroom counter, your fingers holding the smooth curves of her ass apart, her beautiful body opened all up and pink.

Miyeon ruffles her hair as she finds the perfect angle, knees knocked up against the drawers, and she's got more oil spread onto her own puckered rim.

You know your girls: Sana is desperate for your cock, Miyeon lives to be used.

"I love how fucking cock-drunk she gets," Miyeon laughs, and then - the moment you've shifted from one gorgeous hole to the other - her mouth slackens, her eyelashes flutter: "shit. Holy - didn't really realize- oh wow."

"Kinda distracting?" you tease, knowing full well you're just going to lose your own words; watching a gorgeous ass swallow your cock; being told to keep giving and take, just as much: the warmth in your own core, your cunt, clenching hard - an aching pulse - the excitement coursing through your veins and this, this whole sensation of being connected: your bodies, all-encompassing and present, three whole units, joining at the hips, being forced back together-

"-you feel fucking, so tight. That's how the fucking joke goes, right?" Miyeon manages: to talk, still, even with a cock in her ass and your teeth and tongue painting pretty marks up the ridges of her spine.

Sana is catching her breath, brushing her fingers through her hair staring wistfully.

"Gives you two so much to talk about."

"Now don't even start- I really like it, alright."

Sana gives her ass the worst slap but your balls hit her cunt on the following thrust. Miyeon's so fucking tight you can barely breath. And her laughter tinkers off into a very pretty string of obscene moans from the way your cock spears into her, all at once: the flat, wet, throbbing sounds of a tight ass taking a thick cock without stopping, stretching and sliding with an increasing ease the longer it goes on for, until you're snapping your hips so far forward they're slapping Miyeon's ass and gripping, squeezing the round shape of her waist; until the movements are just you, the heavy weight of your balls against the hot wet skin between her legs.

And god damn it, she's got to start with:

"Forgot how much you stretch me, Jesus - baby, it is a really gorgeous cock you've got," - and that is when it hits, and her hands fist up, trying to grab at something, anything: "oh my god."

"You are such a whore," Sana laughs, but not unkind, because Miyeon can only grin in response, with your cock pounding out into the red-hot, clenched walls of her asshole. And then: a nice, hearty sigh.

You find yourself asking, almost by impulse, "isn't she, uh, tight. God."

And, fuck: you were thinking how insane it is you two ever managed without the third party. How now, not fucking Sana and Miyeon's glorious, matching asses side-by-side would drive you fucking crazy, and maybe that's why it's really the best news. How when your cock slips out of one ass, and slowly nuzzles into the other - how when you all three watch the pretty faces in the mirror twist and turn into a look of such pure fucking bliss - you just sort of-

"Oh."

That's Sana: with Miyeon pressed chest-first over the marble counter, Miyeon's cheek and nose flush against her face, their arms twisted, bodies crossed at the wrist and wrist - their skin shiny-red with exertion. They're the closest possible position: mirror images of the other, and - with the slightest push -

And it's pretty. It's fucking, you know.

"Perfect," you groan. "This is it. Look at you, the both of you - god - it's like. It's not normal to be as beautiful as the two of you are. Right. So, you know-"

"Hey," Sana is a little faster on the uptake when you're fucking Miyeon and her ass within an inch of dying, "your face. You look like you're close, are you close baby?"

The blood's starting to sing in your ears. Miyeon's forehead keeps bouncing into Sana's - their sweat, mixing, her skin peppered and blotchy pink from where she's gotten a little bit lost in her own head, her hips moving of their own accord, her body tensing, relaxing. You can read all of her movements, recognize her signals: the way she moans louder than usual, the way her cunt trembles against you, the way her ass squeezes, holds, lets go-

You pull out. Just to keep yourself from blowing, just to pull on your balls, to look and watch the perfect view. And Sana reaches back - a warm hand wrapped around you.

You feel her palm wrap around your cock, coaxing another serving of oil - like she knows just how rough it's going to be to start again.

"Just," she pants, leaning into Miyeon so you have to rut around to find your way back, "until the end."

There's something so pleasantly mind-numbing about the moment when you ease your cock into the sweet-soft ring of muscles again and she's just stretching and pulsing and grabbing all around you. The way you keep going: she's holding herself, giving her asshole a squeeze, a stretch - her lips kiss a sound onto the side of Miyeon's shoulder and she nods, gasps, breathes out heavy and pained, like the rest: a total fucking rush.

You watch Miyeon lean further, a beautiful shift of balance between the two. Her hands clamp around the sides of Sana's thighs for support, and the longer you pound into her, the deeper your cock sinks, the closer the pressure becomes as their heads turn in, looking to the same place, their foreheads knocking, and-

"Knees," you growl. You're holding your cock in your first - demanding: "Get on your fucking knees."

Sana smiles first. Then Miyeon. And when the lipstick smears against their cheeks, you don't have it in you anymore to think clearly. The line between your imagination and your fantasy is so blurred: you want their mouths moaning into eachother. You want Miyeon to clean the taste from Sana's lips. You want those cunts grinding, their clits making contact, and for one of them - fuck-

So: "I need the both of you."

And it's your name falling off of Sana's tongue when the tops of her shins hit the tile floor - she's kneeling, she's pulling Miyeon by her waist until the three of you have converged into this beautiful, glistening, open-mouthed trio. Sana kisses Miyeon hard while you cum all over the image: the contrast of their soft, wet, hot tongues against one another while your harsh grip pumps along your slick, throbbing length. It feels like a knot unraveling, a tension snapping loose, your cum landing on their cheekbones, their temples, between their lips - It's a long, slow roll through the valley of your abs - Miyeon licking into Sana's panting mouth and swiping through the streak of white you just pumped out into her fucking hair; the messy collision of lips, swallows, tongues; the faint, slow sounds, the slickness-

"Look," she breathes. You can hear the way their words hitch when their fingers hook eachother, guiding through the mess across their skin, dipping through the sticky cum, circling the plush pout of their bottom lips; and it's Sana that grabs Miyeon by the wrist, bringing her hand forward; sucking, running her mouth in a lazy path all across the width, "that's all, fuck, I need to. Wanna taste all of it."

You just groan.

Miyeon is slumped into the lacework of Sana's limbs, swapping the tastes between her tongue and the space of their breath; while her own thumb caresses the raw, stretched opening of her ass. Sana whispers things, incoherencies, into Miyeon's hair: kisses at her temple, strokes the muscles of Miyeon's back. Feeling how they shiver, they heave, they fall - exhausted and flushed in the heat of one-another's embrace. She licks the words across Miyeon's cheek and follows with her nose trailing Miyeon's jaw, and your cum's smearing a streak onto Miyeon's bottom lip, before their tongues have tangled themselves into another messy, well-fucked kind of collision.

"Good girls," you mumble, kissing Miyeon's knuckles, and helping Sana to her feet.

Your legs are a lot less shaky than either the two of theirs, but it's okay, you pick Miyeon up and set her on the sink; and then turn on the tap for the both of them, since they'd need a wash and some salve.

"Now, what?" says Sana. She's smiling; a washcloth at the ready; some dribble of soap from the bottle.

Miyeon gives her a smirk from over her shoulder, turning away just enough to flip her hair; the ends brush across her jaw. It's a cute little quirk of the eyebrow; the upward twinge to the corner of the lip; it's a motion that knows every muscle, every detail.

"Depends," says Miyeon, sharpening up her tone just the littlest bit, "the bath looks like a tight fit for all three of us but," and there it is - the mischievous glint; the curve in her hips, her mouth, and, of course - you notice the way her eyes drop to the stiffness of your cock. The way her voice purrs, all light, but a lot more intent: "Did you see the shower? It's absolutely gigantic."

"I saw the detachable head," Sana throws out. A teasing little comment, one you remember - that sends a pretty deep shudder down your stomach and thighs. Your cock twitches, hard and - okay, good thing Miyeon booked the room for a week and then some. The view is pretty great: watching your cock get rock-solid in under five seconds. Watching them kiss the same knowing look, sharing the private joke. Watching their hips swing, watching them slide the glass door: Miyeon in front and Sana from behind.

It's in unison that they both turn over their shoulder and ask, "won't you help us test it out?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right there." You shake your head, "so thirsty," even though, you know you're equally to blame.

-

It's that tiny whisper of "don't look at me like you don't have cum in weird places either, hm?" that Sana gives you, while Miyeon is washing her hair, rubbing and sliding along the locks. "I'll help you with the spots that are hard to reach, come here."

It's that little, meaningful, mischievous curl in Miyeon's lip when the water's pouring, and your breath falls across her skin. The way her hands reach out for you, even when Sana takes her chin and plants a firm, messy kiss across her mouth. It's the same gesture Miyeon's making, using Sana's forearm for support. How she runs the palm of her other hand along the back of Sana's thighs, slipping and pressing forward to guide, nudge. She pulls Sana onto her toes, aligning their bodies. It's in the little laughs they share, the wet smacks of lips, the soft little hums they make when tongues slip over, into the open.

It's here too, that you first ever get them confused, just a momentary slip up of "Sana, could you grab the towel-" or some equivalent, when you glance away at the perfect wrong moment and you're left just a little puzzled, still mostly entranced by the sight of the steam on the glass and their fingertips drawing patterns into it as they lean in for another kiss, or a moan-

"Oh," Miyeon says, delighted, "I'm supposed to be her, right?"

They're fucking-

Sana is less enthused. "Stop. I do not. Am not."

- identical.

"Look, I didn't mean-"

Miyeon laughs to cut you off and skips the argument. She winks, and somehow that makes it worse.

It's there too, the look of regret when your fingertips curl into the skin of her breast, your thumbs a tease against the rigid nubs of her nipples and the texture of her pretty stomach. They don't realize how much you really love their matching expressions. So, they don't mind the mixup, and besides: you just follow Sana's guiding hands and let your lips ghost-kiss, so gently across Miyeon's thigh. It's impossible to imagine a version that isn't one and the other, the two of them, here, with you: sharing kisses, offering the gentlest, slowest exploration, teasing and tugging a gasp of a response.

"Hey," Miyeon muses, "does that mean you'll keep your cock warm in me once we go to bed and feed me a steady stream of ice cubes between all the sessions, mm?"

Sana raises her head in faux offense and drops back into the comfort of Miyeon's thighs. "Jeez-us christ," Sana huffs; "one day with him and she thinks she's me. Have mercy."

"She isn't?" you ask.

Sana sighs. "Um. Not even close."

Miyeon beams at the both of you. She even runs her fingers through Sana's hair, doting - affectionate. "She'll come around to the idea eventually, don't worry. Until then I'm more than happy to take on the role. It can't be that hard, yeah? Just to be all - naughty-sexy-sweet-oh, look, a surprise, i’m actually ready to get fucked six ways to sunday-"

-you get an eyeful of whatever they are doing, this time just, fucking-

Sana only says, "it'll have to take an exceptional amount of patience on both your parts."

-gorgeous, lewd, completely fucking filthy.

"I got a lot, babe."

The second Sana opens her mouth, it's followed with: "pfffht."

It's just, who wouldn't give them whatever they want? Whatever they ask? There's a list out there: no doubt the both of them, gagging. Throat-deep. In their little skirts. Panties. Naked and straddled, just, across their hands. One, maybe. Or both all the same, or still a different preference. One behind the other and taking turns. Something - and this is important, here:

"Look," they say, eyes wide up at you and blinking - on the same fucking beat no less, "you can trust us, okay?"

(Gentleman and distinguished scholars: the list, by the way, only ever gets longer.)

[greengoblinswifey]

Hit My Line—Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you and nicholas are on thanksgiving break away from each other so he hits your line for help in his time of need.

warnings— switch!nicholas, L bombs, fluff, phone sex, male and female masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, degrading kink.

a/n— happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate but be careful with the turkeys, the men are fucking them apparently <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

This was the longest stretch you would ever be away from Nicholas, and every minute would seem to drag. But as you pulled away from the college campus, you turned back to reassure him, fighting the tears in your eyes.

“It’s just a few days, baby. You’ll see me soon,” you whispered softly, trying to ease the ache in his heart. “And if there’s anything—anything at all—hit my line.”

His voice was thick with emotion, but he nodded, a soft smile breaking through his sadness. "I’ll miss you so much."

The few hours apart felt unbearable, even though they weren’t even a full day. As soon as you arrived home, your phone buzzed with a message from Nicholas:

“I miss you already. I can’t stand being away from you. I just want to hold you.”

You smiled, typing out a quick reply: “I miss you too, baby. We’ll be back together before you know it.”

Thanksgiving morning came, and you woke up with a yawn, your phone ringing beside you before you even had the chance to fully roll out of bed, his name flashed across the screen. You smiled, picking up.

“Happy Thanksgiving to my incredible girlfriend,” Nicholas beamed over the phone, his voice warm and full of affection.

“Good morning, baby,” you whispered, your heart fluttering. “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”

“I'm so thankful for you,” he said, his tone deepening. "You mean everything to me, I love you.”

The words hit you like a wave. It was the first time he'd said it though he had showed it in other ways, and the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes couldn’t be held back. “I love you too,” you said, voice cracking.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby,” he cooed. “I’m just so glad I have you.”

You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm yourself. “It’s okay. I’m just so thankful for you too. You're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”

He chuckled softly. “I miss you so much, and Mom wishes you were here with us for Thanksgiving. I really want you to be a part of the family.”

“I promise, next time,” you said, wiping away your final tear. “Tell her we’ll make it happen.”

You both hung up after a few more heartfelt words, and as the day went on, you spent time with your family. But your thoughts often drifted to Nicholas. The love between you felt so deep, even with the miles separating you.

That night, you made sure to text him. “How’s Thanksgiving going, baby?”

His reply came quickly: “Great, but I have a bit of a problem, I’ll tell you about it later.”

Concerned, you quickly typed back: “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. It’s nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about later, when we’re alone.”

You smiled, having an idea of exactly what he meant.

After a while, when your family was settled and you were tucked into your childhood room, your phone buzzed. It was Nicholas, his voice lower than usual.

“Hey, baby,” he said, sounding a little—off.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s the problem you were talking about? You’ve got me worried.”

He took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well—uh, to be honest, I’ve been really horny all day,” he admitted with a slight laugh. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt a surge of heat at his confession. “How can you be thinking about that when you're with your family?” you teased lightly, but there was something about the way he said it that sent a shiver down your spine.

He hesitated for a moment, before confessing, “I don't know, I just—I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. I wish you were here.”

You let out a soft laugh, heart racing. “Well, baby, what do you want to do about it?”

There was a brief silence on the other end, and then he whispered, “I’ve never done this before, but I wanna try phone sex. I’ve heard the guys in the frat talk about it, and I don’t know—I just really need you.”

“I’m down if you are, baby,”you said softly, feeling your body react. “But I don’t have my vibrator with me.”

Nicholas chuckled. “Well, I don’t have anything but my hand, but that’s enough as long as I hear your voice.”

Your breath hitched, and you could practically feel the tension between you two building on the phone. “I think that’ll do just fine,” you said, a teasing smile playing at your lips.

“Wait fuck, I forgot I had facetime, wanna switch?” he suggested.

You hung up immediately and called him on facetime, a small smirk on his face. There he was in all his glory, hair messy, shirtless with just his pajama bottoms on and his hard dick printing.

You had your bonnet on, bare faced and draped in a silk, two piece pajamas. “You look beautiful,” he said, admiring you as the red of your LED lights lit up your face, “the red lights are fitting.”

He propped up a pillow in front of him, skillfully angling the phone so that you could see his entire body. He was gorgeous as always, the dim light cascading over his shirtless body, his abs, his pecs, those fucking biceps. You wanted him on top of you crushing you. He was built like a Greek God.

You did the same, propping up the pillow and angling the phone so he could see your figure.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” he grunted, bucking his hips. You could see the outline of his cock pressing against his pajamas.

“Tell me all the things you want to do to me baby,” you whispered, just loud enough so he could hear over the phone.

Nicholas pulled down his bottoms, his hard cock springing out, the sight made you bite your lips as you stared at his body through the phone screen.

His hand slid down his chest, teasingly close to where he was already hard, and your breath caught in your throat. “God, I miss that body,” you breathed, your voice a little shaky.

Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his lips curling into a smile as he ran his fingers over his abs. “You like what you see, baby?” he asked, his voice husky, each word slow and deliberate. “You’re driving me crazy here. I’m so hard for you, you have no idea.”

You shivered at his words, “I think you’re forgetting who has the real power here,” you teased, your smile playful yet full of the same heat that you felt building between you both.

He let out a low laugh, clearly appreciating your confidence. “You know you’re just as beautiful as always,” he said, his eyes never leaving you. “I can’t stop imagining the way you’d feel with me inside you right now.”

You grinned, “Is that so? I think I could help you with that. If only you were here.”

“I’d be all over you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. His hand moved lower again, teasing his cock, though he didn’t touch fully. “I’d show you just how much I miss you.”

You bit your lip, unable to stop your pulse from quickening as his voice made the moment feel even more intimate. “If I were, I’d make sure you never wanted to leave me again.”

Nicholas groaned softly. “You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” His eyes flickered as his breath quickened, clearly lost in the moment. “You’re making me wish we weren’t miles apart right now.”

You smiled, a sense of power blooming within you as you responded, “Trust me, baby. I’d make it worth your while.”

You pulled off your satin pajama top, revealing your boobs, your nipples hard. Your hands went to them groping them as you bit your lip.

“Fuck, keep doing that baby, grope those fucking tits for me,” he moaned, his hands now stroking his painfully hard cock.

“I wish you were here to do it for me baby, I love the way your tongue flicks my nipples,” you said.

Your hand went down your abdomen and you heard Nicholas moaned, his movements speeding up. Swiftly, you slipped off your shorts and your panties, your pussy glistening in the light.

“Fucking hell baby, I’m gonna be so fucking deep inside that wet pussy when I see you,” he gasped, his hand moving to caress his balls.

“I’m gonna ride that cock so good, make you cum deep inside me.” You moved your fingers to collect the wetness onto your fingers before rubbing your clit. Your back arched off the bed and you did what you could to make sure you moans were soft enough so only Nicholas could hear.

“Fuck, I need that so bad right now baby, keep rubbing that clit, tell me more.” He spread his pre cum on the tip, a sweet whimper leaving his lips as his body shuddered.

“I want you to choke me while you fuck me, hard while you tell me how much of a slut I am,” you murmured, rubbing your clit in rough circles.

“I can do that baby, I can tell you how much of a dirty slut you are, fuck, you’re such a slut right now for doing this with me,” he said. The words uttering his lips were foreign to him, he was more inclined to have you do the degrading and taking the lead—unless you asked of course.

“Oh— baby, I wish you were here to fuck me hard from behind, I know how much you love this ass slapping against you,” you breathed out, your efforts speeding up, you were right on edge.

“Make sure you keep that same fucking energy when I see you, ‘cause I’ll be the one in control,” he said, tilting his head back slightly as his eyes averted to your fingers moving between your legs and his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, “you see how fast I’m stroking this hard fucking cock? That’s how fast I’ll be fucking you.”

“Baby, I think I’m gonna cum, can I cum for you?” you asked, now slipping your fingers inside your pussy.

“N-not yet, take those fingers out and put them in your mouth and then fuck yourself with them again,” he demanded, stroking his cock even faster now, “then I want you groping your tits.”

You did as you were told, bringing your dripping fingers up to your mouth and moaning around them as you savored your own tasted. Your hand went to your boobs, groping them as you imagined they were Nicholas’ large hands. As you did, you slipped your fingers back into your pussy, the sound of squelching the only thing that could be heard apart from your boyfriend’s breathy moans on facetime.

“Fuck, be a good fucking girl and cum for me, cum for me baby,” he gasped.

“Oh, Nicholas,” you moaned, your back arching from the bed as you finger fucked your pussy. Your juices spurted from you, coating your phone screen and the pillow in front of you. You moved your fingers to your clit, rubbing and guiding yourself through your orgasm, trying your best to quiet your breathy moans.

“Fucking hell baby, you’re so hot, squirting like that—shit, oh God, I’m gonna cum, can I cum baby? Please, I’m your good boy, I wanna cum for you,” he gasped, his body trembling as his hands moved quickly up and down his shaft.

“Cum for me baby, let me see that load all over your hand for me,” you uttered, groping your boobs as you watched him through the phone.

You got more than what you bargained for as Nicholas came all over his hand and even more so on his abdomen. “F-fuck baby, that was so hot,” he moaned breathily.

You both took a moment, panting as you stared at each other, your naked bodies rising and falling.

“I really enjoyed that baby,” you smiled, “shit, my screen’s all messed up.”

He laughed, rubbing his cum all over his abdomen, “I enjoyed that even more sweetheart, but now we gotta get cleaned up and you need your beauty rest.”

“Well, I guess this is goodbye until I call you next morning?” you giggled.

“No problem baby, I love you so much, never forget that and I miss you so much, I can’t wait to see you,” he said, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

“I love you too Nick, I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you soon.”

[ghouljams]

Alright someone asked me ages ago if I would write a Bimbo!Reader and I had no clue wtf that meant or what the appeal was but I think this might technically fall into that vibe so...

Here you go.

(cw: poly!141 x f!reader, self pussy inspections, self praise, supportive but befuddled 141, cannot stress how vane this reads as but y'all should be doing it)

You're having your required phone time post shower. You're all primped and pampered and lotioned up. You're even doing your affirmations between tiktoks as you scroll, leaning over your bed to look at yourself in the full length mirror on the back of your closet door to tell yourself: "I'm so pretty, the world is lucky I'm in it."

You hum, laying on the bed, towel tucked under your head so your hair doesn't get the duvet wet. Maybe you should get dressed. You've got company coming over. Big company. Big company that actually wouldn't mind if you opened the door naked except for the fact your neighbors might see. You glance at yourself in the mirror, and arch your back a little. You smile at the figure you strike and make a kissy noise at your reflection. "You're so hot," You tell your reflection, "what do I have to do to get you home baby?"

You laugh to yourself, blowing another kiss and squeezing your tits together. God the boys are lucky to have you. Actually, you should remind them of that.

You sit up and scramble to get yourself in front of the mirror. You hold your phone up to record as you open your legs and rub your fingers through your folds. You're neatly trimmed up and soft from that oil Price got you, but most importantly: it's so cute! Awww. You spread your pussy open and coo at yourself in the mirror. She's so cute. Cute little pussy. You're going to have the boys kiss it when they get here.

You sort of forget you're recording as you watch your fingers in the mirror, spreading and rubbing, you circle your hole with your fingertips and slide them up over your clit. You can feel how wet you're starting to get, see the way your pussy drools and glistens are you rub the slick over it. God. Adorable, really, it's so pretty. You're kind of obsessed.

You toy with the hair, scratching your fingers through the curls before running them back down to your folds. Yeah, good shit. You rub little circles over your clit the way Soap always does, tipping your head to watch the way the bundle of nerves stiffens. Wet and tight, fuck when are those losers getting here?

Your phone pings with another notification and you finally remember the recording. You stop it and forward the video to the group chat. You barely get a second text in before Gaz is responding.

Gaz Me Up: "It's so cute" Soap Sudz: "Look how cute it is" You: Hey I was gonna say that. Gaz Me Up: We know love.

Rude.

Your phone pings again.

Mostly Ghostly: Be there in ten. Want me to kiss it? El Capitan: Can be there in five. Gaz Me Up: Damn I'm 15 out. Soap Sudz: Isnae a race Soap Sudz: But Ahm winnin'. Soap Sudz: Two away, leave the door unlocked.

[wooahaes]

svt - whatever you say, beautiful

pairing: non-idol!svt x gn!reader

prompt: i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.

warnings: established relationship aus. food and alcohol mentions. jeonghan and reader lovingly calling each other 'ugly' like an old married couple. 96z roommates au (jun). soonyoung's terrible mayo-ketchup concoction (jun). reader gets called beautiful back (jun, soonyoung). friends -> lovers (jun, soonyoung, jihoon). bickering as a love language (minghao, seungkwan). sexual implications from a third party (chan telling seungkwan to let him know if he needs to put headphones on or leave).

daisy's notes: i wrote that vernon drabble and gave myself brainrot. also on jeonghan's: ik there's cultures that do this lol but for those unaware: pls don't take it as a serious thing haha its meant to be akin to calling someone silly or goofy. i just think it gives old married couple energy to be like 'you're a nuisance but you're my nuisance and i adore you wholeheartedly.' like seungkwan tells them: just tie the knot if they want to, because they already act like they've been married for seventy years.

choi seungcheol

seungcheol was sprawled out in your bed, blanket securely tucked around him while he scrolled through his phone. sleepovers, at this stage in your relationship, weren't exactly uncommon... but the giddiness still hadn't worn off. the two of you didn't intend on moving in together for at least another year, both of you enjoying living on your own for right now after so, so much time of living with other people. still... that would never stop you from enjoying the sight of your beloved in your bed, ready for sleep, and winding down by checking his social media for the second or third time today.

until you saw him stop. he furrowed his brow, that handsome face completely perplexed. and you fought back a grin, because you knew exactly what was confusing him.

today the two of you decided to publicly reveal your relationship to more than just immediate family and very very close friends. seungcheol had been thrilled over it: he'd always been wanting to show you off since you started dating. but when you asked for a little time, he didn't fight: he just met you where you were. and now that everyone knows...

"what is this?"

he turned his phone to face you, giving you full view of the caption you lovingly wrote out. it sat underneath a collection of pictures, some taken by you, others by him, and one taken by one of his close friends in preparation of this special day... and, of course, it was a silly little joke.

i'm not arguing with my man and his big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful. ❤️

you snickered, crawling into bed next to him. "what's wrong with it?"

"nothing!" but he was pouting, and you knew what was coming next. "did you see my post?" he was already moving to pull it up, as though you hadn't read and re-read it a million times while he was in the shower.

so you decided to torment him. just a little bit. "you don't like it...?" you frowned, putting on your best 'kicked puppy' look.

"i do like it!" he was quick to try and assuage your worries. he turned over so that he could face you. "but... when we decided to tell everyone, i thought you wouldn't post a meme as the caption."

"so you hate it." you crossed your arms, pouting as hard as you could muster.

"i don't hate it! i didn't say--i didn't mean that, i just--" he looked up, watching you for longer than a few seconds. then he snorted, hand resting over his heart for a minute. "you're going to be the death of me."

with a snort, you crawled closer to him, all but dragging him up so that you could kiss him. "you know you're the normal one here."

he giggled, capturing your lips in another quick peck. "maybe i am," he said. "... i do like it, though. just warn me next time."

yoon jeonghan

joshua (hannie's coworker): [IMAGE.JPEG]

joshua (hannie's coworker): can you come get him he's bickering with seungkwan rn

joshua (hannie's coworker): (it's mostly seungkwan bickering but jeonghan is actually fighting back a little)

joshua (hannie's coworker): (it's literally over who's paying for chan's birthday dinner. cheol literally picked up the check half an hour ago right after they started.)

you: omw. also idk how seungkwan does it. i'm not arguing with a man with big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.

the moment you pulled up outside the restaurant, you should have known exactly why jeonghan was grinning at you. he waved from the sidewalk, turning back to his friends to talk just a bit longer. he didn't move, which... on most days, you wouldn't care. but it was late, and you had work in the morning, and (according to joshua) they just spent the past few hours just chatting after their meal. five minutes melted into ten, and then into twenty...

and so you rolled down your window, yelling out a 'happy birthday!' to chan that finally got jeonghan's attention. another grin, and that was enough to tell you that he'd been waiting for that. he wouldn't do it for everyone, but chan? you knew their friendship was different. he hugged the guy one last time, and then made his way over to the car, climbing into the passenger seat. with a final wave to his friends, you pulled back onto the road, and started the journey home.

"so... you really think my eyes are beautiful?"

ah. that was the other reason the fucker wouldn't stop grinning at you. of course it couldn't just be one thing with jeonghan.

"you think i'm beautiful?" he watched you with this knowing smile, as though the two of you hadn't been dating for years now. as though you hadn't drunkenly confessed it before. "i'm starting to think you actually like me."

"you're just now realizing that?" you flicked on your blinker, coasting into the turn lane. "do you think i'd be living with you if i didn't?"

"you never call me beautiful to my face anymore, you know," he said, reaching for your bottle of water. without a care, he uncapped it, taking a long sip from it. "you just call me 'ugly' whenever you call me something."

that was far from true, to be fair: he was your love, your baby, your honey... and he was 'ugly' when you were particularly affectionate. "i have to keep you humble, ugly. you already know how beautiful you are."

his eyes twinkled a little as he looked at you, that fond smile telling you all you needed to know. "i know, ugly." he'd never been afraid to throw the word back at you, and you hoped that the tiny thrill it brought you never died.

no wonder seungkwan once said the two of you should go ahead and tie the knot. "you already act like it," he'd said, side-eyeing the two of you before taking a long sip of whatever coffee-flavor-of-the-day he'd picked out.

he reached over, prodding your cheek. when you glanced over, just enough to let him know you were listening, he just leaned against the center console with this handsome smile he reserved for you. "i love you."

and maybe he was a little drunk. just a little. but you let him have this one. "i love you, too, handsome."

joshua hong

"am i not worth the effort?" joshua couldn't even fight his playful grin now, his phone in his hand. "you couldn't even come up with an original post for our anniversary?"

with a roll of your eyes, you glanced back over his own post for a moment, pausing your search for movie snacks. he'd written out this long, sappy love letter to you about how he wanted to spend the rest of his life alongside you. it was sweet, and a little silly when he recounted the embarrassing story of how the two of you realized your feelings for one another (all it took was one spilled milkshake, courtesy of jeonghan), but overall a very public display of his adoration toward you. the picture-perfect, romance novel act of love from your boyfriend.

in other words: he was hamming it up so that people would gush over how he was the most adoring boyfriend, and how lucky you two were to have one another based on everything he said. in reality, he was literally eating your snacks right now. and later that night, he'd put his cold feet on you and then laugh over it.

"uh-huh." you continued searching through the cabinets after pocketing your phone. "should i have told everyone about how you somehow always manage to eat the last poptart in the box, even though you straight up told me that you keep count just so you can tease me over it?" you tossed an empty box into the bin, making a mental note to add them to the list. "or the time you literally ate all of my fries when we were on that road trip?"

"you're never gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

"didn't mention how god awful your workout clothes stink, either." you grimaced at the memory alone. "seriously, dude, how fucking hard do you go?"

"i forgot to wash them twice!" he turned around on the couch. "all because i said i thought it was cute when you mumble in your sleep and keep me up all night--"

"listen. i'm just doing damage control for you, hong," you pulled down a bag of chips, carefully rolled and clipped to keep them fresh. making your way back over, you continued, "really, you should be hiring me. i called you beautiful and mentioned those big brown bambi eyes." you threw yourself down next to him, bag crinkling as you unrolled it. you held up the first chip, an offering to him that he leaned over to take. "i think i deserve payment for it all."

but he grinned at you, settling back in. "i'll think about it. i'll get the big box of poptarts next time," he poked your side, just hard enough to get you to move off of his blanket, and then drew you right back in once he could throw it over you. "and i'll let you pick the first movie."

with a roll of your eyes, you reached for the controller. "what a gentleman."

wen junhui

your life was truly, sincerely, over. this was it. this was the big one. the big fuck-up that would kill you from embarrassment alone. if you were a sim in the sims 4, little sim jihoon would be sobbing over your body right now as the grim reaper came to take you away.

instead, he was just stiffling his laughter, patting the top of your head as you bury your face in a pillow. "it's not that bad."

"it's terrible! i was only posting that picture because we looked good!" you jerked up, staring at him. "and--and jun liked it! did he not read the caption?!"

"oh, he read it," soonyoung was doing something unholy in the kitchen, from the sounds of the ketchup bottle being opened alongside the smell of mayo. not another thing to ruin your day. "he's on his way home, by the way."

yep, this was how you died. surrounded by two of your roommates and being confronted by the guy you've had feelings for for... fuck, how long had you known him? since college? he'd been there for you after a particularly nasty breakup not long after the two of you met, and that was when your stupid heart fell for him. you'd always pushed back against it: it wasn't the right time. he was dating someone at one point. he wouldn't like you back. but the more the two of you started spending time alone, the deeper you fell.

"have you thought about just telling him how you feel?" jihoon asked, stealing your pillow and hugging it against his chest. "i know it's scary, but i don't think it'd go badly."

soonyoung looked over, condiments smeared on the outsides of his mouth as he chewed. he swallowed, wiping his face with a paper towel as he spoke, "even if he didn't like you, he'd let you down easily."

"soonyoung!" jihoon turned to face him. you rarely saw jihoon mad, but this had to be the closest.

soonyoung realized what he said. and immediately took off, shutting himself back into his room as jihoon raced to encounter him first. while he tried to jostle the door open, the yelling faded into background noise.

jun... what?

the apartment door opened after a while, wonwoo standing there with jun right behind him. without hesitating, you hopped up off of the couch, immediately excusing yourself as you went to hide in your own room. jun called after you, and you just shut the door behind you, face in your hands. this could not be happening. this wasn't happening. if soonyoung was telling the truth, and, because jihoon yelled at him, he definitely was... what now?

jun knocked on your door. everything outside of your room was silent now. if jihoon was chewing out soonyoung, you'd probably hear some of it. yet... quiet. peaceful quiet that you weren't exactly used to with this bunch.

"can we talk?" he spoke up after a moment. "i don't exactly get the caption, but... do you really think i have beautiful eyes?"

oh. he had no idea it was some meme you'd seen online that always reminded you of him. yet the gentle way he'd asked made your heart flutter all the same. you said nothing, just sitting with your back against the door.

"it's okay if you do." you could hear the sound of him moving, and slowly, it sounded as though he was sitting, too. "i... i think you have pretty eyes, too." was it possible to hear his uneasy smile in the way his voice shook just a little, his nerves so, so evident? "the others left, by the way. so we could talk. wonwoo was confused, but jihoon dragged both him and soonyoung out for a walk."

that answered one question, at least. again, you just said nothing, curling up as tight as you could. your heart hammered in your ears, and you shut your eyes. was this really happening?

"i've liked you for a long time," he said, voice just as gentle as it was before. like he, too, was scared of what this all meant. the two of you were crossing a line you never thought you'd even tread near, let alone vault over. "it's okay if you don't feel the exact same way. but... you're sweet. and i--"

you bit the bullet. you got up, opening your door to see jun turning to face you. he'd been sitting there, back against the door, talking to the air while you'd been too scared to face him. he stood up as quickly as he could, watching you carefully.

he was the one who spoke first. "hi."

"hi." you said it back, heart racing. "i think you're beautiful."

and oh-so-shyly he smiled back at you. "i... think you're beautiful, too."

maybe this would be the start of something good.

kwon soonyoung

with your eyes screwed shut, you knew that seungcheol was going to give you so, so much shit about this when you told him. knowing your luck, it was going to go horribly, and you'd probably die right here and it'd be your ghost haunting seungcheol... but that was something you could deal with.

yet the moment 'tiger kwon' popped up on your phone, you knew you couldn't avoid this forever. you'd pester soonyoung later for changing his name in your phone again. for now, you just answered the request for a video call, and you were met with those pretty eyes staring at you in the low light.

"hi." he giggled. "i don't think that text was meant for me."

astute observation, considering the first three messages before you gushed about his eyes and called him beautiful were "FUCK" and "CHEOL I CAN'T DO THIS" and then a picture of the two of you from when you grabbed dinner together earlier. you expressed your romantic frustrations in the only way you knew how: a screenshot you'd seen of someone's tweet. the same thing you'd said to seungcheol many, many times before.

"so what does that even mean?" he's grinning, and you knew that it's half-genuine. he was smart enough to get the gist of it (to put it simply: you were, as you'd been told, down bad) but you weren't sure how often soonyoung saw memes like this. he was watching your face, those cute eyes shining with the light from his phone screen, and he rolled onto his stomach. "when did you get worse at technology than me?"

was this what confessing to soonyoung would bring? a lifetime of having a cute man tease you oh-so-lovingly?

"are you alive?"

you managed to squeak out a deeply embarrassed, "yep."

he just giggled, head resting on his hand. "do you text seungcheol like that a lot?" he waited. and when you didn't answer, too embarrassed to speak, he continued on, "i think he and jihoon trade war stories, then. jihoon..." his cheeks were dusted red. "jihoon hears a lot about you."

holy fuck. your stomach was doing flips. "soonyoung?"

"this is embarrassing, isn't it?" he chuckled, eyes focusing on his screen again. "jihoon said it's some sort of joke. vernon showed it to him once. but... i think you're beautiful, too."

truly, this man would be the death of you if he kept smiling at you like that. like you were his world already, eyes shiny and cheeks red.

"i..." your mouth felt dry. "can we... maybe... a date?" something about seeing his face right now made your mind go blank.

he chuckled. "i'm free this weekend," he said, still smiling. "we'll talk tomorrow morning. okay?"

"okay." you licked your lips, just trying to come down from this high. "goodnight."

the moment he ended the call, you were texting seungcheol: LET'S FUCKING GO GOT A DATE W SOONYOUNG!!!

and in return, he sent you three words: about fucking time.

jeon wonwoo

people always warned you about marrying the love of your life. the honeymoon period was something strong, that tinted your days with sugary kisses and honeyed skies until it all dissolved when reality washed back over the two of you. yet you had been married to wonwoo for two years now, and that sweetness never seemed to melt from your lives. the honeymoon period was over, yes, but the work you put into your relationship kept things lively. arguments came and went, and you always found yourself enamored with the man who guarded your heart in the same way you guarded his.

that was why anniversaries were special. not because they were another milestone, another celebration of a year the two of you made together... but an excuse to gush about wonwoo. you kept it to two days in particular: your wedding anniversary, and his birthday, both dates set months apart. wonwoo was different than you, however: he didn't want to broadcast his feelings for the world to see. he reserved all the sweet things for words he physically wrote down for you to read, or as things he said to you outright when he was sappy enough.

and you? well... he knew your true feelings would never be one-hundred-percent out there. those were reserved for him. but if you wanted to gush about how much you loved him, then who was he to stop you?

he'd been scrolling through his instagram feed that night while brushing his teeth, only to snort when he finished reading your post. the duality of your relationship was beautiful: he'd posted a short, sweet caption for you underneath a lovely quote from a book the two of you loved. and you had gushed... and finished it off with a meme that you sent to him the moment you saw it. i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful. the same words you teased him with when you were in a particularly playful mood.

so when he returned to you, he just crawled into bed, pressing kisses against your face. his affectionate moods would always take you by surprise, and he was glad for that. it spiced up the relationship just a little that he was still able to surprise you after all this time.

"you're so cute," he curled up with you, pulling you into his arms. "happy anniversary. i love you."

you snorted a little. "i see you've noticed."

"should i have read it sooner?"

you waved him off, "no, no... i'm glad you didn't see it until now. check the comments when you get the chance. a bunch of your friends loved it."

he was sure that they did. they all seemed to adore the duality of the two of you more than he did. the quiet, studious wonwoo and his silly love who made him laugh more than anyone else. but he knew as well as you did: no one would love your dynamic more than the two of you did.

he was your home, just as you had become his.

lee jihoon

all jihoon wanted to do was ask if you wanted to go to dinner. he'd suggested a place, you'd suggested another, and he mentioned not wanting that kind of cuisine... only for the words to appear on his phone within the next few minutes: i'm not arguing with a man who has big brown eyes. whatever you say, beautiful.

... beautiful?

"soonyoung!" he yelled out for one of his housemates. if he wasn't here, then seungcheol would come in. yet he heard the sound of footsteps quickly approaching, soonyoung sliding against the wooden floor a little as he looked in. "read this."

so he did. he read it once, and then again before looking up. "... they're flirting with you, i think."

"that's weird, right?" jihoon looked up. "they don't like me back."

"how do you know that?" soonyoung grinned, leaning against the empty doorframe. "you don't know that. they're hitting on you. shoot your shot."

"i'm not going to--"

his phone started to ring. he looked down, wide-eyed, as he realized you started to call him. before he could debate denying the call and pretending the text never came, soonyoung bolted forward, answering it before immediately leaving his room. the little shit--

"oh my god," you said, "i'm so, so fucking sorry--mingyu's here and i was trying to look up other places to eat on my laptop, and he had the bright idea to text you that shit. i left my phone alone for one minute, and this is what happened--"

"why would he text me that?" jihoon could feel his heart begin to hammer in his chest. why would mingyu tease him like that? mingyu knew that you were off limits when it came to this kind of thing. unless...

"i--well, i--" you stammered, all sentences melting in your mouth before you finally let out a long sigh. in the background, he could hear mingyu begin to laugh. "shut up!" and then the sound of a door slamming behind you. "fucking--" you let out a sigh. "sorry. made the mistake of putting you on speaker."

"that's okay." jihoon leaned against the back of the chair. "but my question...?"

with another sigh, he could hear you settle into something. a chair, a couch--he wasn't sure. "this isn't how i wanted this to go... but... i like you. and i guess mingyu's had enough of hearing about it. it's okay if you don't feel the same, but... that's all."

quiet. neither of you moved to speak, to pitch another restaurant to go to. jihoon opened a new tab on his browser, already typing in a new search for the best places to take a first date.

"jihoon?"

no point in not taking the leap now. you'd already taken the first step: he could do the next one. "can... can tonight be our first date, then? instead of us getting dinner as friends."

quiet.

"jihoon..." your voice was soft. "i'd love that."

note to self: thank mingyu.

xu minghao

"what does this mean?" minghao looked up from his phone, where you could clearly see the post you'd made earlier. it was a combination of candids and the actual pretty pictures you'd taken of him, all captioned with a joke. he began typing something out, "we bickered about toast this morning."

"oh my god, hao--"

then your phone buzzed. you looked down, and there it was: minghao calling you out on your own damn post. when you looked up from your phone, he just had that stupid smug grin on his face. he crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair as he waited for you to defend yourself.

"it's a joke. it's a meme. maybe you should learn them, old man."

he rolled his eyes. "it's a lie and i'm not standing for it. everyone knows that we argue about everything."

even before the two of you started dating, you'd bicker about the smallest things. none of it was ever serious--the two of you had only fought a handful of times in the entirety of knowing one another--but you remembered the annoyed look you would get sometimes. just go make out already had been what his friends would say. eventually, it turned into mingyu telling minghao to go ahead and give you the marriage papers already. the two of you were in it for life, weren't you?

which, ultimately, turned into you and minghao bickering about that, too. the two of you hadn't even been dating at the time, but you would both be lying if you said that conversation hadn't made the two of you figure out your feelings. you'd retorted that minghao wouldn't get along with your parents like that, leading to him actively calling them to prove that, yes, in fact, he would.

(you would simply never live down both of them going "he isn't your boyfriend? we were waiting for you to be ready to tell us," and the subsequent call where your mother chewed you out for hanging up on her right after.)

"we don't argue about everything."

minghao gave you a pointed look. "strawberry jam."

you pinched the bridge of your nose. "not this shit again. i thought we agreed that butter is--"

... fuck, he was proving his point.

"fine," you said. "we bicker a lot. doesn't mean i can't lie via meme."

he just smiled, happy to have won whatever little argument this almost turned into. "everyone knows this is our love language," he said, head resting in his hand. "but fine. you can lie through your memes."

and thus he put the two of you on equal grounds once again: a truce, in a sense. just like most of your little debates ended in.

kim mingyu

"you know you could just call me pretty if you wanted to."

your face burned at the way mingyu was giggling now. all you did was text him a meme (yes, from the other end of the couch) and wait for his response. he'd read it under his breath before bursting into giggles, so, so enamored with the way that you were. he always had been: mingyu, unlike you, wasn't shy when it came to his affection. he complimented you constantly on anything and everything, whether it be your appearance or the way you rambled to him or the way you clammed up "all cutely embarrassed" (his words, not yours) when you realized just how much you said. you told him once that you weren't the most open about your feelings or the loudest.

and he'd merely kissed your forehead and said that was okay. he was loud enough for the both of you. if loving him quietly meant that you loved him, then that was all that mattered to him.

you whined his name at him, trying to hide your face. you knew that you always would get this doe-eyed, dreamy look on your face whenever he teased you like this. you caught a glimpse of it in a mirror once when you were at a store buying furniture, and swore to yourself you'd never let him catch you like this so obviously ever again.

of course, that was moot because mingyu saw that sappy look on your face and treasured it every time... but for your own sake, you couldn't let him notice.

yet he laughed anyway, crawling over to pull your hands away from your face. "i mean it!" he squished your cheeks, "just call me pretty next time. that's what you wanted to say, right?"

you pushed his hands away from your face, just so that you could speak clearly. "i think you have pretty eyes."

his smile dropped, eyes going wide. and he slowly pulled away, face turning redder by the second as he turned from you. "you can't just say it like that! i wasn't prepared!"

you felt a little bold this time. "whatever you say, beautiful--"

the groan that mingyu let out, fully flustered by you now, only made you feel more confident in teasing him. no wonder his friends loved to pick on him... he was so cute about it.

lee seokmin

the minute you finished saying it, seokmin had burst into giggles. all because you wanted to jokingly flirt with your beloved and see his reaction. he had looked up from his phone, where he'd been idly googling to find dinner options, and then you could see those gears turning before he started laughing.

"really?" he reached over, drawing you into his arms. "so you won't argue with me tonight?" seokmin squished your cheeks to pucker your lips, planting an loud kiss against them. "all because you think i'm beautiful?"

you just fought back a laugh, reaching up to toy with the hair at the base of his neck. "whatever you want, beautiful."

another giggle burst past his lips, and he dropped one hand down, sliding it up your thigh. "do you mean it? or are you just flirting with me?" he gently squeezed your thigh, just a little. "you don't have to flirt with me like that. i'm already yours."

ever the romantic. you drew him in for another quick kiss, soflty laughing against his lips. "gotta keep you here somehow," you teased. "it's hard to compete with you when you're mister perfect."

his nose brushed against your own. "i think you keep up just fine." he paused, drumming his fingers against the outside of your thigh idly. "can i confess something?"

you watched him curiously. "huh?"

"your best friend..." his hand slid up to your hip before he loosely draped his arms around your waist. "when we got together, they messaged me to tell me you talk about my eyes a lot."

oh no. "you know you have pretty eyes--"

"like a baby seal." he giggled. "and something about having puppy dog eyes, too."

ohhh no. of course they'd rat you out. "but am i wrong?"

he just nuzzled his nose against your own for a minute, planting a tiny kiss against the tip of it. "i just like you. you're so silly, it's cute."

with a smile, you just settled against him. "i mean it, though. pick wherever you want, beautiful." his giggles only made you happier. "i'll pay."

boo seungkwan

"chan and i bicker less than we do."

seungkwan wasn't phased by your flirty word or the way you were trying to call him beautiful (my boo-tiful boo, if your silly phone contact was anything to go by). he just looked up from his phone with a flat expression, which... probably meant he saw that post somewhere for himself. the lack of originality probably also got you here.

"okay, fine, that's true," you said, rolling your eyes. "you're still beautiful, though."

"i know that," he said. "but we argue a lot over silly stuff. vernon said he thinks it's a love language."

another roll of your eyes. "seungkwan, we don't argue that much."

"don't we? remember that time the neighbors got concerned because we got a little too heated about the way one of our dramas ended?" he crossed his arms. "i still think the ending was good, but you got angry over the way it tried to incorporate greek myth and--"

"it was incorporating greek tragedy and didn't give it the sad ending!" you threw your hands up in the air. "don't promote it as being based on the myth if you aren't going to have a tragic ending!"

"it didn't have to! it was a retelling! things don't have to adhere strictly to--"

chan's door opened, and he walked out of his room. he looked at the two of you before groaning. "this fight again?"

"we're not arguing!" the two of you said together, turning to face him.

chan just rolled his eyes, making his way over to the kitchen. "sure..." then he took one look at the two of you, shaking his head. "i'm going to see if yeonjun wants to go out. don't do anything until i'm gone or have headphones on."

"we don't--"

"you do. just keep arguing or whatever," he pulled out his phone, walking back to his room.

his door shut. and the two of you just looked at each other. seungkwan rolled his eyes, flopping back down on his end of the couch.

"i hate him," he said offhandedly, no venom behind it. you knew just as well as seungkwan did that if chan was in trouble, seungkwan would be one of the first to run there. "who does he think he is? he always acts as if he knows our relationship better than we do."

you slid over closer to him, and he lifted an arm so that you could cuddle in. "he's a jerk," you said, again, no real malice behind it at all. "you should come live with me."

he rolled his eyes. "you always say that." he turned his face, kissing your temple. "like we don't have plans already."

once his lease was up. but you just looked up at him, smiling a little. "whatever you say, beautiful."

that shy smile told you all you needed to know. keep calling me sweet things, then.

chwe vernon

"uh-huh." he didn't even look up from his phone, scrolling through his youtube history. "did i send you this video?"

you frowned. "you're not even going to say anything?"

"you've used that on me before." he continued to scroll. he looked up for just a moment. "also, i'm thinkin'... maybe we could go get tacos for lunch? haven't been to that place in a while." vernon turned his attention back to his phone. "i'm down for whatever, though."

with a groan, you slumped into the couch, already googling for cheesy pick-up lines. the back-up plan, always, for when you need to tease your boyfriend. "hey, nonny? do you have a map--"

"because you're lost in my eyes," he said without missing a beat. "actually, i'm really craving tacos now. i think we could get an order to-go if you don't feel like going out."

he hated you. this had to explain everything. "do you believe in love at first sight--"

"i might," he moved over so that he was closer to you, pulling your legs into his lap. "so, were you being legit about the not arguing thing? because i might take my chance and order anyway."

with a roll of your eyes, you gave up. you weren't going to win this time around. "get your tacos, beautiful," you reached up, turning his face toward you. "i'll pay."

he snorted, bursting into giggles as he leaned over to kiss you. "you're such a dork."

you just smiled into his kiss. "but you love it."

lee chan

you loved confusing chan so, so much. all he did was ask what you wanted for dinner, and you hit him back with "whatever you want, beautiful. i'm not gonna argue with a man who has big brown eyes." thus began the confused looks as he looked at you, then his phone, unsure of how to respond to that.

"... what?"

"i said we can get whatever you want," you shrugged. "i'm not picky--"

"that's not what you said." he frowned just a little, clearly aware that you were teasing him in some way... but not quite connecting the dots quite yet. "you never call me beautiful," was what he settled on a moment later.

which was true. you often opted to call him handsome, usually with a soft laugh and a smile that showed just how endeared to him you really were. on occasion, you'd call something about him pretty--the way he styled his hair, or the makeup he wore once when mingyu roped him into being a model for him--but beautiful? as much as you thought he was (chan deserved all the complimentary words, in your humble, unbiased opinion), you'd never voiced that opinion to him directly. the closest was the time you told one of your friends that he had beautiful eyes.

he narrowed his eyes at you. "is this a joke?" for a split second, he glanced down at the phone in your hands. "... are you recording?"

"i can't call my man 'beautiful'?" you put on a fake pout, just to tease him further. "you really think i'm cruel enough to make fun of you like that?"

chan, however, knew you. he knew that you were easily swayed into pulling pranks on him. that time he introduced you to jeonghan was enough proof of that--and every subsequent trip with his friends always seemed to result in them picking out his weak spot and turning you against him, just for a simple joke. if it bothered him, he would have said something... but it did leave him fully aware that you were the kind of person to lovingly tease him.

lovingly, he told himself. he knew it was. but sometimes he wondered if you were put on this planet just to mess with him in a way he'd secretly love. if you were going to be the death of him, then at least he'd die loving you.

"okay." he made his way over, pulling up a restaurant. he showed you his screen, and immediately you focused on the fact that this place was far from cheap. "i want to go here."

"channie, we--"

"you just said you weren't going to argue," he smiled at you, leaning against you. "hm?"

with a sigh, you shook your head. "whatever you want, beautiful," you reached up. "i'll just eat ramen for the next few weeks--"

he snorted, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "just book it for our anniversary, then." he paused for a moment, just watching you with a tiny smile. "... do you really think i have beautiful eyes?"

how could you say anything other than 'yes' when he was staring at you with them?

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog

@actuallynarii @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunnyunny

[hanasnx]

re-hash

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 0.9k WARNINGS: explicit sexual content | f!reader | established relationship | daddy kink | mild dacryphilia | size difference

JJ MAYBANK's no stranger to being called "daddy." It's practically one of the only things you wanna call him in bed, and something about it just hits. Maybe it's his own raging daddy issues, or the fact it signifies an authority figure, someone to look to. JJ likes calling the shots, and who better to call shots than Daddy? Before you'd introduced that petname to him, using it as a taunt was pretty common. In the midst of a fight, he'd tease his opponent with a little beckoning: "Tha's right, come to Daddy." If a variation was in order, he wasn't a stranger to switching it out for "Papa."

He didn't take into account how far it could go though. Addressing him as your daddy was commonplace, but while he's working on his bike, he gets introduced to something different.

"Pass me that, will you, duchess?" he asks, brows furrowed at the metal in concentration. He holds out his hand for you, and you walk while you read a little paperback book. The spine is weathered.

You hum confirmation, and toe over, plucking his tool from its location. Its hefty weight causes it to drop into his palm more than you meant to, but your focus is still on reading. "Here you go, pa."

He registers your words, and slows to a halt. Unlike him, you're invested in your story, index fingernail toying with your lip unconsciously. The crease in his brow deepens, tilting his head. "Uh," Looking at you through an eye because of the sun glare, upper lip raising to the corner of his nose like a curtain. "What was that, sugar?"

"Hm?" you question, raising your brows in question as you respond to his gaze with your own. "What'd I say?" You're not entirely sure what had occurred, the fresh words from your page still echoing in your mind.

"Called me 'pa.'" he reminds you, his twinge of southern twang apparent in his phrase. Unable to hold your eye contact, he glances down at the tool he fidgets with in his lap, picking off some dirt.

"I did?" In disbelief, you frown, a hint of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking—"

He shakes his head. Minutely disappointed you didn't double down. "No, s'fine. S'fine." He pouts his lips, and twitches his nose when he sniffs, scratching it with the back of his hand. "No big deal, sweet pea, I don't mind it." He returns to his bike.

Later on, he doesn't let you get away with playing dumb. "What was it that you called me earlier?" His arms shake with effort, holding himself over your head as his hips rock into you, your legs folded up on either side of him. "Huh? Duchess?"

"JJ!" you chide, but it comes out in a sultry whine, your body bobbing with his movements as his dick lodges all up in your insides. "What are you talking about?" There you go playing dumb, and he won't have it. Callused hand slots itself in the crook of your knee, hooking your leg over his shoulder to stretch you out. You yelp when his head hits a new and deeper angle inside you.

"Nah, nah, don't be like that." he snickers breathlessly. "What'd you call me earlier? Know you wanna say it. Lemme hear it, bae, c'mon," He goads you, and you can tell his accent is more defined at a time like this. It's mouth-watering. Or his long cock rearranging your insides is.

His blonde curls fall into your face as he looks down, watching your cunt slurp him up while you cry out each full sheath. Moans are practically shoved out of you, like there's no room to keep them inside when he buries himself to the balls in your little cunt. Worsening his pace, slapping skin on skin because you're not obeying him.

"JJ, it hurts! It hurts!" you sob, clutching onto the fabric of his side slit shirt he still wears. He pushes your hand off of him, picking himself up to sit on his knees. He tucks the hem of his top between his teeth, displaying his contracting abs as he gets into position. Briefly, you're granted a reprieve, but that's only because he's switching things up on you, slotting his hands under your hip bones to raise you, biceps swelling from the action. Desperately, you catch your ragged breath, until he handles you back onto his dick. He doesn't reintroduce you to inch after inch, no, he bottoms out straight away, plunging his length into you while yanking you into it. You thought it was hell before, now you're near tears, mindlessly reaching out to him as if to wordlessly ask for a breather.

He keeps his hardened concentration where your bodies conjoin, a ring of cream forming around his base, and he scoffs through his nose. You thrash, but you're spasming around him. "Guess this pussy can take some abuse, huh?" he asks rhetorically, muffled by the shirt between his teeth. "So squirmy. She's flexible, I'll give her that. How's about it, baby, wanna tell me now?"

You fist bangs against his forearm, taut from his hold on you, fingers digging into your flesh as you fight him. "Pa! Pa, please! Ugh, you're so mean!"

He drops his shirt so he can speak clearer, "Yeah, but your Pa fucks you good, huh? Right? Pa fucks you nice, and good." Deliberately, he rolls his abdomen, and in turn, pistoning his cock into you in way that has your lashes fluttering. His movements, forcing himself to be slow and steady, causes him to shake from effort, every muscle flexed as he fucks you. Your leg still haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, and he feels your own tremble travel from your core to your toes. "Say it. Say it or I swear I'll tear you in two."

"You fuck me good, pa, you fuck me nice and good. Nobody does it like you, daddy, I swear."

[luuknowsbetter]

RIDE. Bucky Barnes x reader

plot; You tease Bucky about riding him, but he takes it seriously.

trope; Bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings; smut. Inappropriate Language. and sex, a LOT of sex

I was lying on the sofa in the living room with Alpine on my lap, while watching an episode of Friends on TV, when suddenly I heard things being moved from the cupboard in the kitchen, I leaned over to see what it was about and I saw Bucky took out a glass to drink a whiskey, I shouted "make me one too babe!" and I settled down on the couch again. Bucky arrived within a few minutes, with two drinks in his hands, and sat next to me, handing me the glass, I thanked him with a soft kiss on the cheek and he put his arm around my shoulder,-

-What are we watching? -He asked, looking at the screen,

-Friends- I answered, without taking my eyes off the TV where Ross was covered in talcum powder from head to toe with his pants down while he was on a call with Joey. I laughed while watching the episode. Bucky smiled sideways when he heard me laugh, and placed his hand on my thigh, caressing it gently. I looked down at his hand and bit my lip slightly. Apparently he noticed because the next thing he did was start placing wet kisses on my neck. and my face, I gave a little chuckle and he pulled away with a little smile

-What? He asks smiling, not understanding what was happening.

-I think Alpine doesn't like this- I mention, and Bucky looks down at my lap to see the cat with a very unfriendly face, I laugh and pick her up to put her on the floor.

Bucky gives me a flirtatious look as he repositions his hand on my thigh. "Should we continue doll?" he asked with a smirk. We started kissing again, but this time it was more romantic. A few seconds later we separated in search of air.

-Are you okay doll? -He asks, caressing my face gently, and tucking my hair behind my ear. -Oh yes, just thinking about riding your face- I say with a light ironic laugh, he looks at me surprised, but he lets out a chuckle, denying it slightly. that sentence hits him, hard- his entire demeanor changes instantly into one full of cocky overconfidence- and he’s clearly trying to compose himself

-Oh yeah? he asks, voice low- think you can handle it?- he asks, voice low and rough. I chuckle at his comment

-I think so...- i lick my lips and I can see how his eyes darken once he sees me do this, he grins, eyes sparkling with playful mischief

-Come here then, doll. I approach, positioning myself on his lap with my legs on either side, he laughs, denying -No, doll…-I look at him with a raised eyebrow-ride my face, pretty girl...

Bucky sits on the floor to begin spreading kisses that go from my ankles to my inner thighs, where we made eye contact while he took off my small sports shorts and begins to kiss my intimate area above my panties. I let out a soft moan when I feel his kisses there, and I accidentally look away, causing Bucky to grab my face with his metal arm, forcing me to see him. -Keep your eyes on me, princess.

he says with a somewhat flirtatious tone, I nod and he immediately tears off my panties, tearing them on the spot, I let out a loud moan at the suddenness, James smiles maliciously when he hears me and bites his lip. seeing myself so vulnerable before him. Suddenly, Bucky picks me up in his arms, carries me on his shoulder

and he runs to the stairs where he takes me to our room, he gently leaves me on the bed and kisses me again, this time I have control and put him to bed. We both look at each other while I'm on top of him, and Bucky nods in approval, and I would even say a little excited.

I position myself over his mouth but without letting all my weight fall on him, so he begins to leave wet kisses all over my pussy, I let out small, low moans, his tongue is doing magic and I am enjoying the moment. until he stops, I open my mouth in protest and look down at my boyfriend, the soldier smirks and grabs my hips harder as he looks at me. -doll…when I tell you that You sit on my face, I mean it, don't just lean on it. fucking sit on it, sit like a chair. -I am surprised by his words, and possibly, at this point, I am totally blushing

-b-but I don't want to drown you- he interrupts me without letting me finish. -Don't ask if I can breathe, you sit down, and he lets me eat my lady's pussy.

I finally do what he asks, although a little unsure of it, but the moment I felt him directly inside me, licking and sucking my clit, god… I just couldn't stop moaning and moving back and forth. James continued licking and sometimes moaned which made me squirm with pleasure, until I couldn't take it anymore and finally I came all over his face. I got up from him quickly, totally embarrassed by it, Bucky had my juices all over his face, I covered my mouth with my hands -sorry! Seriously forgive me love, I didn't mean to- he laughs and kisses my forehead sweetly. -It's okay doll, I love it…" he says smiling softly, brushing the hair from my face to see me better.

-oh really? I mean, I stained everything, I really - he denies again -doll, this is an act of pure love from you towards me, the fact that you came for me means that you love me…or that I'm really good at it -he says something flirtatious, causing a blush on my part and making me hit his arm gently.

"I love you, princess…" he whispers -I love you more, soldier.

HELLO

okay so this is my 1st time writing smut so

i hope it was good

[snow-blower]

Can you write a comfort/ fluffy fic where Cregan comes back you his and Agere!readers chambers after having put her down for a nap, finding them awake once more?? I need to curl up against that man's body desperately 🙏😔

I absolutely love this thought!! Hope I gave it justice here lmao :D

Kept it simple and sweet because I'm still not too familiar with Agere, hope you don't mind 🫶

Naptime - Cregan Stark x little!reader

Words : 1,300

Warnings : SFW, Agere, no NSFW, messily written and slightly unedited, soft Cregan cus apparently some people don't like that?? Can't see why 🤷🏻‍♀️

The furs were tucked tightly around your small frame as you awoke from your peaceful nap, the sound of the door creaking open rousing you from your slumber.

A soft, tired grumble falls from your lips as you shift beneath the furs, your hair sprawled out against the pillows, giving you a soft, angelic and absolutely adorable look. Sensing no danger, you fall back into your slumber as Cregan quietly crept through the room, the intention of letting you sleep a little longer lingering in his mind.

He had just returned from a council meeting, one that was far too tiring and stressful for his liking. He was glad you weren't there. He knows full well you wouldn't have taken that council meeting well. You were frustrated and upset as is. Having you attend that Council meeting would only end in you feeling much worse and that's the last thing he wants for you.

He had put you down for a nap before he left for the meeting, hoping you'd sleep a little more considering you didn't sleep well last night. The nightmares and late-night thoughts plaguing your sweet mind.

He wishes you would—but you hate waking him up after nightmares or if you get stuck in your thoughts late at night. You didn't like bothering Cregan over stuff like that, no matter how many times he reassured you that it's okay, that he's your papa, and he's there to take care of you, nightmares and all. You still refuse though, not wanting to worry him any more than you do already.

It had taken you a while to get you to settle down, your stubborn nature shining through greatly. You kept telling him that you're fine, that you don't need to take a little nap, that you're a grown woman and so on. Cregan didn't believe you for a single second. Your defiant nature was adorable though. Your arms crossed against your chest, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him with such a sweet pout that he almost considered letting you have your way.

It had taken him a lot of sweet pet names, kisses to your forehead and promises of making sure to have your favourite sweet tarts and treats ready for you when you woke up. You had made him a pinky promise, and Cregan never goes back on a promise, especially one he made to you—his sweet little girl.

He steps further into the room, placing the tray of treats on the nearest table. He starts shrugging off his armour before pulling off his boots, leaving them by the table. Cregan's entire body ached from sitting in a chair for the entire afternoon, listening to the Lord and Ladies drawl on about unimportant issues.

Once his armour and boots were off, he picked up the tray of food once more, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. He carefully places the tray on the bed beside him as he unclasps his cloak, tucking it around your small frame as you stir from your sleep once more.

You stayed awake this time, your nose twitching like an adorable bunny as you smelled the sweet scent of the pastries he had the cooks bake especially for you. The cooks always adored making you whatever you wanted, knowing you gave the best and sweetest praise than anyone else in Winterfell.

“There's my sweet girl..” Cregan coos, making sure his cloak is tucked perfectly around your frame before he gently pulls you to sit up, your frame leaning against his own, broader one.

You only managed a sleepy mumble as you curled into his side, the scent of him lingering on his cloak as you pressed your nose against the soft fur on the shoulders. You always found his scent comforting, the scent of pine and his musk bringing you the sense of comfort you always seemed to crave.

Knowing you probably wouldn't be up to speaking right away, he gently squeezed you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he waited for you to wake fully.

It takes you a few moments, but your half-lidded, sleepy eyes eventually open. Your head feels all fuzzy as you shift in Cregan's arms, your mind feeling like it has to work overtime to think of any big girl thoughts. You gave into the fuzziness quickly, though, letting the comfort of Cregan consume you.

You find your voice after a few more moments of silence, the softness and tiredness still lacing your tone, “Papa?”

Cregan has to fight back the urge to squeeze your cheeks and coo softly, knowing full well you were still a little sleepy and wouldn't like it. Not until you woke up fully anyway.

“Hmm?” He pulls you further into his chest, watching with amusement as you struggle to pull your arm from his cloak, managing to point at the tray of sweet treats that sat on the bed beside him, the action nearly took cute for him to handle.

“I have?” You looked up at him with such pleading and innocent eyes, that he wouldn't even be able to try and refuse you.

Cregan nods, unwrapping his arms from your body as he reaches for the tray, chuckling softly as you climb into his lap.

He tucks your head beneath his chin, setting the tray on your lap. “Only a few, sweet girl. Don't want you getting sick, m’kay?” He hums, letting you pick your favourite from the tray.

You eagerly bite into the sweet lemon tart, humming softly as the taste consumes your tongue. “Yummy,” you mumble between bites, a few crumbs falling from your lips that make Cregan bite back another chuckle.

“Careful, baby,” he teases, bringing a hand up and brushing some crumbs from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Don't want to make a big mess, do we?”

He watches as your eyes go a little wide, still filled with childish innocence, as you shake your head. You clearly didn't like that thought.

He lets you have a few more before taking the tray from your lap and placing it on the bedside table.

“You all full now, sweet girl?” He asks softly, knowing he'd either get a nod or shame of your head. You never did talk a whole lot when you were in your little space or half asleep. Not that he minded. In fact, he loves the little gestures you make when you try to communicate with him. However, he also knows how frustrated you get when he has no clue what you want.

When you nod, he lets out a soft hum, shifting your body so you'll lay back. He keeps you tucked against his body, brushing some stray strands of hair out of your face.

“Can Papa lay with you for a little while?” He asks softly, wanting nothing more than to just lay with you after having council meetings and various other meetings with different lords and bannermen. He just wants to hold his sweet girl in his arms for a little while.

The little mumble of agreement that falls from your lips makes him murmur back a soft ‘thank you’ as he tucks his face against your shoulder.

He lets you manoeuvre yourself how you like, letting you wrap your arms and legs around him like a little koala bear.

Your own head is against his chest, your cheek pressed against him and your hand resting against the spot where his heart is, feeling the soft thumps against your palm.

You both fall asleep like that, curled into each other with no intention of getting up soon. Though Cregan knows he has to get up at some point, he's content to lay with you as long as he can.

[moonstruckme]

Hey! I know you wanted more requests for people besides the marauders so you can do this for anyone you like but maybe reader who is just soooo in love with them that anytime they do something nice for her she starts crying? Like happy tears because she's just so in love and she doesn't know how to express that. If you don't want to that's fine!

Hi, thank you! I decided to go with Sirius anyway because I felt like he'd be the most fun. (This is gonna be me btw, the first time I experience romantic love there's no way I'm gonna be able to handle it)

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Do you think it’s a bad idea to show off my tattoos on the first day?”

“Mm, maybe,” you muse, looking longingly at the way Sirius’ inked-up forearms pair with his black dress shirt. “I feel like after the interview it won’t matter, but today you probably want to present your straightest-laced self.” 

“Gross,” he grunts, but starts rolling down his sleeves. 

It’s a rare sight, Sirius up before noon, but his job interview is scheduled for ten and he doesn’t feel in a position to negotiate. The frail morning light bounces off the full length mirror he’s standing in front of and illuminates the room as he purses his lips and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You’re lying on the bed watching him get ready, trying your very best not to look enthralled and wanton (it is a constant effort). 

“My most gorgeous, radiant angel, could I ask you for a favor?” 

You grin, warmth flooding your chest. “You don’t have to butter me up. What is it?” 

“Grab the bigger version of this shirt? I think I may want a baggier tuck.” 

You hum and get up, padding into the closet. Sirius’ clothes are all strewn over the floor and dresser, but miraculously the shirt you’re looking for is on a hanger. As you reach for it, you nearly trip over a small box on the floor. It looks like the shell of something Sirius was sent in the mail, plain cardboard with the shipping label torn off. You bring it back out with you. 

“Thanks, lovely,” Sirius says as he takes the hanger from you. 

“No problem,” you reply. “Want me to recycle this for you?” 

He turns to look, blinks, then looks harder. “No. Where’d you find that?” 

“On the floor.” 

“Must have fallen off its shelf.” He discards the smaller shirt on the bed and starts doing up the buttons of this new one, smirking when your eyes track the deft movements of his fingers. “Don’t throw it out, it’s got important stuff in it.” 

You weigh the box in your hand. “It feels empty.” 

“Important, lightweight stuff.” 

You eye the barely-open flap of the box, intrigued. “Can I look inside?” 

You think you catch a flicker of hesitation across Sirius’ features, but it’s quickly schooled into insouciance. A vine of nervousness winds around your gut. “Sure,” he says, “go ahead.” 

You look at him a bit longer before slowly peeling back the cardboard flap. Inside is a mishmash of things. Paper, mostly, but you recognize one item immediately. It’s a flimsy, neon orange paper wristband, a venue’s name stamped haphazardly onto one side. At the first concert you’d gone to together, Sirius had griped endlessly about how the orange contrasted with his outfit horribly and brought out all the ugliest hues of his skin (there aren’t any, but you were too timid to tell him that at the time). He’d seemed desperate to be rid of it. But here it is, carefully clipped off instead of torn and preserved like something special. Something warm and weighty blooms in your chest. 

You take out one of the pieces of paper, unfolding it. It’s your handwriting, thoughtless scribbling you’d left for him to find on the fridge one day after you’d left for work. Have a great day, love you. 

Another is a bar napkin, containing a whole back-and-forth exchange between you and Sirius from the first time you’d met his friends. You’d kept passing it to him under the table, asking Do they like me? Are they just being nice? Is Remus always so frowny? and he’d passed it back saying Yes. Yes, they love you. James is this nice to everyone, but I can tell he likes you. Remus is being a sourpuss because he hasn’t eaten yet. You’re perfect. 

By the time you come upon a polaroid you’d forgotten he’d taken of you in his kitchen, you’re pressing your lips together to keep them from wobbling and your entire being feels warmed by incandescent, aching fondness. Your heart feels so big you can’t breathe around it. You’re not sure you have room for this much love, but you’ll happily carry it around like a weight in your chest for the rest of your life. 

You’re all too aware that Sirius is watching you now, so you try to keep it together for his sake, but when you blink a tear slides down the side of your nose. 

“Hey,” he chides lightly, amusement inlaid with a bit of panic. “Don’t.” 

You sniffle, then laugh wetly. “Can I hug you?” 

Normally he might make a joke (Not if you’re going to get snot all over my interview shirt) but something in your expression must sway him. Sirius’ eyes go soft. “Yeah, baby. Of course, c’mere.” 

He doesn’t make you get up, crossing the distance to the bed and wrapping you up in his arms. You let out a little sob at the contact. 

“I’m gonna clean off your shirt once we’re done,” you promise, gripping his shoulders. 

“Okay.” He sounds amused. 

“I just—I didn’t know you kept this stuff.” 

“It’s cheesy.” 

“It’s not,” you insist, hugging him tighter. It makes you happy beyond words, to know you’re bringing this out in him. To see, with your own eyes, how much he loves you back. You can check in with yourself at any time and know you’re happy in your relationship with Sirius, but you never could have imagined how spectacular it would feel to know that you make him this happy in return. “It’s special, Sirius. You’re special.” 

“You sound like James’ mum.” 

“Oh, shut up.” You smack his arm, pulling back with a huff. You’re smiling, though, and he sees, taking your wet, blotchy face between his palms and grinning at you. Honestly, if he weren’t Sirius Black, he’d be such a dork. 

“I love you,” he says, a significance in his tone that contradicts the playfulness in his expression. “Do I let you forget it?” 

“No,” you tell him. “You don’t, it’s just…I just really love you too, you know?” 

His smile spreads, flashing canines the second before he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s firm and spirited, and Sirius holds you there until you’re laughing into his mouth. 

“I know,” he says, pecking you once more on the lips before letting you go with a swipe of his thumbs across your cheeks. “Alright, gorgeous, clean me up, would you? I’ve got other people to go impress.”

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 24

Well, this is the end. I'm a little sad to see this one end. It's been a wild journey and one I loved every minute. The highs and the lows.

Special thanks to my discord @dreamercec, @bookworm0690, and @forgottenkanji, who helped me work out the kinks and cheered me on when I got discouraged.

Thanks of course to everyone who stuck with this story to the end and who liked, commented, and reblogged.

Next week, "You're a Dream to Me" will take over this slot as a full time regular.

The boys go a victory tour and put Hawkins in their rearview mirror. A life well lived really is the best revenge.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23

And go here for a little fun ficlet I did about the dangling chains the CC boys wear: Extra Scene

~

Steve woke up the next morning in a warm embrace and he just smiled to himself. If someone had told him six months ago that he would be living a hotel with a rockstar boyfriend, he would have called them crazy.

He thought Tommy and he were for life. That they would runaway together and live somewhere where there were sunny beaches. But he knew that never would have happened even if his dad hadn’t walked in on them making out. Tommy had always been down for a good time, not for a long time.

But Eddie?

Eddie was all in from the moment he sidled up to Steve at the Hideout. Steve might have been looking for a one night stand and warm place to sleep, but Eddie was always going to want more than that with him. His dad kicking him out just made it easier to dote on him.

He rolled over and nuzzled Eddie’s neck.

Eddie hummed happily as he awoke. “Good morning, little Canary.” He brought Steve’s chin up so he could kiss him deeply.

One thing led to another it was at least an hour before either of them got up and by the time they had showered and gotten dressed, (Steve briefly dashed over to his room to drab some clothes and came back) it was well past time for breakfast so they ordered lunch.

And as they waited, Steve curled up on Eddie’s lap, his head tucked under Eddie’s chin.

“You’re so soft, Stevie,” Eddie murmured, rubbing his thumb over the stripe of skin that was exposed in the gap between Steve’s jeans and shirt. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

Steve snuggled in closer. “My dad called it my biggest failing. That in order to survive in this world you had to be hard. Cruel.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Well, maybe in his world, but not mine. Here, I want to you to stay soft, safe, and secure.”

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

There was a knock on the door and then it opened to reveal the porter with their lunch. He pushed the cart over to them and removed the cloches.

Eddie tipped him and the man went scuttling back the way he had come.

They settled down to eat, just laughing and talking about just the little things that made up their lives. Funny stories about the kids, struggles with the record label.

The soft things.

“So what are your plans for today?” Eddie asked, moving the cart in the hallway for the staff to collect after they had finished their lunch.

Steve straddled his lap when he came back to sit on the sofa and instantly Eddie’s hands came up to his waist to steady him. He looked up into Steve’s eyes and smiled.

“I figured we had two options,” Steve said, low and sensual. “Either go around to all our friends and Wayne, telling them we finally got our heads out of our asses...”

“Or...?” Eddie asked reaching around to cup Steve’s ass and giving it a hard squeeze, causing him shriek.

“Or we can go back to bed and make Rosa hate us for a week,” Steve said, jutting his head toward the direction of the bed.

Eddie pursed his lips and cocked his head thoughtfully. Then in a single swift motion, he stood up, taking Steve with him. Steve scrambled to wrap his arms and legs around Eddie so he didn’t fall.

Eddie cackled. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He walked them over to the bed and quickly stripped Steve of his clothes.

Steve mockingly glared up at him. “You are far too good at that,” he huffed with an eye roll.

“I’m good at a lot things, little Canary,” Eddie teased. “I’m a going to have the best time showing you what I know.” He pressed a kiss to Steve’s nose, then his cheek, then his jaw. “I’m not some dorky high school washout who’s only experience is you, I’m a rockstar and I’m going to rock your world.”

Steve let himself go boneless and his fingers tentatively stroked the skin on Eddie’s arms, his hands shaking from the pleasure.

“Let yourself go, Stevie,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll catch you, no matter how you fall.”

So Steve fell.

~

That night while Eddie was getting a shower, Steve called Robin.

He sat on the bed and tucked his knees under his chin, listening to the phone ring.

“I’m assuming since you didn’t call last night bawling your eyes out it went well?” Robin answered with a huff of laughter.

“Yeah,” Steve murmured. “We did talk first. About what we both wanted from the relationship and how to work as a team.”

“That’s good, Steve,” she said fondly. “I’m glad you’re getting everything you wanted.”

“Hey,” he said firmly, “don’t forget, I’m still buying you that car and once you graduate, I’m making you my personal assistant so you have to come with me wherever we go.”

“Deal.”

~

They ended up doing their little victory tour of their friends the next day, with them starting with Eddie’s bandmates.

The second they walked out on the veranda where the three other members of Corroded Coffin were having breakfast, Jeff burst out in a cheer while the other two moaned in despair.

“Ha!” he cried. “I win the bet!”

“I can’t believe it!” Gareth moaned into his hands. “I thought for sure it would take another week before they fucked like rabbits!”

Brian shook his head and said, “I didn’t think they would do anything. I figured they pine forever, if I’m honest.”

“Not with Stevie looking like that,” Jeff said shaking his ruefully. “He knew what he wanted and I had no doubt he was going to get it.”

“I saw them at the bar,” Gareth wailed. “I was so sure that they were going to admit their feelings for each other and then ease back into the sex now that they knew they were on the same page!”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other sheepishly. Because yes, that is exactly what they should have done. But with Steve looking like sin and Eddie like sex on legs, there was no way they were going to keep their hands off each other for any length of time.

They sat down at the table, blush high on Steve’s cheeks while Eddie’s grin was feral.

“What can I say?” Eddie said, picking up a menu. “I like making my little Canary sing.”

The blush on Steve’s cheeks deepened and crept up to his ears and down the column of his throat.

“Well,” Brian said, pulling out his wallet and handing Jeff a one hundred dollar bill, “I, for one am very happy for you both.”

Gareth slapped another hundred into Jeff’s other waiting hand. “Yeah, we really are happy you guys are together. Maybe female fans will stop throwing themselves at Eddie and give the rest of us poor bitches a passing glance.”

Jeff snorted, pocketing the money. “Not fucking likely. If I can’t get dates being the lead singer and Eddie being out as gay, Eddie having a very public boyfriend ain’t gonna change jack shit.”

“We’re doomed!” Gareth wailed dramatically, burying his head in hands.

“At least we won’t have albums worth of sad long songs,” Brian said cocking his head to the side ruefully.

Eddie smacked his shoulder. “Hey! I only wrote one album of sad songs after I broke up with Quinton thank you very much!”

“And three notebooks worth of absolute trash,” Jeff said rolling his eyes. “I was so grateful when Hunter came along because then we got the angry metal and that was some really good stuff.”

Steve shrunk in on himself. Hunter and Quinton? How many more guys were notches on Eddie’s bedpost.

Gareth’s eyes narrowed on Steve. “Hey, guys knock it off with the exes talk, we’re celebrating Steve and Eddie, not ragging on Eddie’s exes.”

Eddie looked over at Steve and wilted. “Baby, they’re exes for a reason, okay? You are not, and never will be like those assholes. It’s why I love you.” He pulled Steve close and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Yeah,” Brian said contrite, “I shouldn’t have brought it up, that was my dumb mistake.”

Steve just nodded and curled up into Eddie’s side, where he stayed until they finished breakfast.

~

They told the kids all at once, dragging everyone to the arcade with Eddie and Claudia in tow, almost daring the management to repeat the last time Steve brought the kids here. But management wisely said nothing and even put them in the event room for privacy.

Eddie getting positively gleeful about being able to splash his money around.

When it was time for pizza Dustin asked. “All right, this is fantastic and all but really, why are we here?”

There was some hissing from a couple of the other kids while Eddie and Steve laughed.

“We just wanted to tell everyone,” Steve said, gently taking Eddie’s hand, “that Eddie and I are officially going steady.”

“About time,” Mike huffed and then took a huge bite of his pizza. “We were starting to think you were gonna grow a fucking forest with all the pining that was going on.”

Will snorted and he hurried to cover it up, but it was too late. Everyone had heard him.

“Sorry!” he said with a grimace. “But he’s right! You guys have been dancing around each since Eddie got back and the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and then shrugged.

“To be fair,” Steve said dryly, “he was traveling on tour for a good portion of our relationship so that did put the breaks on it a bit.” He held up his finger and his thumb really close together.

“Will’s mom didn’t help either,” Max said with a wince. “Like if she hadn’t been harping about Steve getting a job, they probably would have gotten together soon after Eddie came back, instead of having to deal with the fall out of the attack on Steve.” She looked over at Will and then muttered, “Sorry, but it’s true.”

Will shrugged. “It’s true though. She hounded Steve and if she had backed off even a little things would have gone smoother for Eddie and him.”

“Thanks Will,” Steve said with a smile. “Are Nancy and Jonathan going to join us later?”

Will lit up and started talking about Jonathan and Nancy.

Steve just sat back, leaning into Eddie’s side, watching his kids having fun and just being themselves for awhile.

~

The parents were at once easier and harder then the kids. Claudia and the Sinclairs were happy for them, Sue couldn’t have care one way or another who Steve was fucking as long as he didn’t do it front of the kids, and the Wheelers were clearly pained, but openly supportive.

Hopper clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “You’re the only one I trust to take care of Steve,” he said as they had gone to sit on the porch for a smoke. Steve was inside with Ellie learning different plaiting methods because he wanted to braid Eddie’s hair.

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “I’m not sure I know what that means, but I’ll take it.”

Hopper shook his head. “It means that that boy has a big heart and he wears it on his sleeve. No matter who he dated, they were going to think he was too much. Everyone but you. Because if he love is the ocean, then you are the shore.”

Eddie blinked back tears. “Thanks. I really appreciate that. He means the world to me and I will make sure he’s as happy as I can make him.”

Hopper nodded and they both finished their cigarettes in silence, watching the sun set on the horizon.

Joyce came and sat down next to Steve, where he was practicing a French braid on Ellie’s hair.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Steve?” she asked gently.

Steve looked her dead in the eye. “Is it because he’s a man, because he’s rich, or because he’s Eddie fucking Munson, that you have a problem with him? Because I’ve never been able to pin it down exactly.”

Joyce bowed her head and then ran her hands over her face. She tapped Ellie’s shoulder. “Go see what Will wants for dinner.”

Ellie looked up at Steve and only when he nodded dis she stand up to do as Joyce asked.

“I wish I could say none of the above,” she said softly. “But it’s probably D- all of the above. And I’m really struggling with that because I know–” she stopped, a pained noise escaping her throat. “I suspect that Will is gay, too. And I’m going to have to come to terms with the fact that I will probably have a daughter-in-law and a son-in-law. But I don’t know how to do the right thing for him.”

Steve took her hand. “Just treat him and whoever he brings home the same way you would treat any girl Jonathan brings. And love him.”

She gave his hand a squeeze and nodded, choking back tears.

~

Wayne was thrilled that they had finally gotten together and promised them that his home would always be their safe harbor no matter where the wind took them.

~

Steve was happy to see Hawkins in the rearview mirror after the holidays. Eddie wanted to show him his house in LA to see where Steve really wanted to live, plus it was time for the band to get back into the studio for their next album.

As they boarded the plane that would take Steve far away from Indiana, he sighed. “I wish there was a way that I could give my dad the middle finger, you know?” He shook his head. “They say the best revenge is a life well lived. But it doesn’t do any good if he thinks I’m lying in a ditch somewhere.”

Eddie scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I think I have just the thing, baby.”

~

Steve was handed a stack of postcards and bright pink pen.

“Wherever we go,” Eddie said softly, “whatever we do, send your parents a postcard letting them know you’re out there having fun.”

Steve grinned up at him. “This in addition to that exclusive you gave Nancy?”

Eddie chuckled. The weekend after they landed in LA, Eddie sent out for Nancy and Jonathan to do a full spread article about being gay in the music industry, the AIDS crisis, and the announcement that Eddie and Steve were a couple. It had ran in every major newspaper in the country.

After The Hawkins Post got it for the first twenty-four hours.

There was no way his parents missed the picture of their son, cuddling up with the biggest metal star in the world.

~

Maureen walked to the mailbox in front of her large mansion in Hawkins. Honestly, she was thinking of asking Clint to just sell the place. It wasn’t as though they needed it and they were hardly there in the first place.

Even before this whole mess with the disaster with the Hagan boy.

She opened it up and sighed. She closed it again, stomping her foot. She huffed out another sigh and then opened the mailbox again.

She pulled out the only item in there and closed it again. She walked into the house and called out, “He sent us another one!”

Clint came barreling out of his office, like a bull on a rampage. “Where is that wastrel of a son now?”

Maureen turned over the card and read. “Looks like he’s in the Bahamas with Rob Lowe sipping on mai tais!”

“That the third one this month!” Clint bellowed. “First it was in Paris with Twiggy! Then it was with Cher in LA! He travels more than we do!”

Maureen burst out into tears. “I want to go to the Bahamas! You never take me anywhere nice anymore!”

Clint ripped the card out of her hand and tossed it on the growing pile of postcards. All from Steve. All of them with pictures of him on the lap of that depraved rockstar, Eddie Munson’s lap. All with the same message:

“Out here livin’ my best life thanks to you! XXX- Steve”

-The End

~

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[erisvansserra]

Follow You

Fenrys x Reader x Azriel

Summery: 30 years ago, Y/N fell through a portal and woke up in Prythian naked an afraid. She counted herself lucky that she was found by the shadowsinger and his high lord, who took her in and gave her a home. Despite their hospitality she dreamed of her home and the mate she left behind, Fenrys, who searched for her until one day.. he finds her.

A/N: OMG thank you for all the love I've received for this fic!! I literally did not expect it and I'm so happy you all like it! You can read part 1 here.

You awake in the middle of the night and turn in bed to reach for Azriel, your hand skimming the covers in search for his warmth. When you feel nothing but cold sheets you open your eyes and look to where he should be, nothing. As you begin to wake from the early morning brain fog you realise you're in the townhouse, your friends had returned, and you were going home.

......

Hours later you're sitting in the living room with Rowan and Aelin, their presence and laughter bringing you such comfort, for the first time in 30 years you feel truely at home. Aelin was in the middle of telling you about Lysandra and Aedions wedding when the inner circle walked through the front door. Your eyes met Azriels the moment he walked through the entry way, his face a mask of indifference that made you feel uneasy. You stood from your seat on the couch, unsure if you should make the steps toward him, seek the comfort in his touch.

"Hi" you say in a soft voice, the world dripping away like melting ice as you and the shadowsinger stare at each other "Hi" he responds in a voice just as soft. His smooth voice encases your body in goosebumps, his hazel eyes took a quick sweep of your body checking for any injuries making you smile slightly. "Can you two stop being so.. weird and hug?" Cassian's loud voice breaks through the tension, making your smile grow and a blush spread on your cheeks. Azriel smiles as well and makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You feel a new type of tension enter the room as Rowan and Aelin stiffen from their spots on the couch. "What's this?" Aelin asks, her posture changing from casual comfort to regal royal with the snap of her spine. You feel that stomach twisting guilt begin to suck you in again as you look between your friends. "She's my partner” Azriel answers with a slight growl as he brings you closer to his chest, tucking you in under his chin protectively. Aelin goes to open her mouth bur Rhysand raises his hand to interject "may I show you something?" he asks. Rowan and Aelin look at each other cautiously before nodding, slowly Rhysand uses his powers to enter their minds and shows them what happened that night they found you in the wood.

30 Years Ago

You fell from the sky, the limbs of trees smacking your naked body as you crashed to the cool ground. You screamed in pain as your plumet reached its end, hitting the ground so hard you swore the earth shook. With a broken arm that you cradled with care you began walking around the unfamillar woods, the air smelt different here, your keen eye sight couldn't pick up on anything that reminded you of home. You walked for about 15 minutes before a winged male landed before you. You yelped and began running in the other direction, your legs full of scratches that burnt and bled as your legs pumped under you. Before you got the chance to escape another winged male landed and put a knife to your throat. You whimpered and fell to your knees before him, your broken arm still pressed to your chest as you quickly submitted to the winged male. You felt the tip of his knife under your chin, slowly he lifted your face to his, all you could see in the darkness was those light hazel eyes. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice as harsh as the ground you kneeled upon "y/n" you answered. The male from earlier now stood behind you, their weapons within reach if they needed it.

The memory changed, a new memory coming to view.

It had been 18 months since the night court took you in, tried to give you a home, tried to replace what you lost. Azriel was at your door, a fresh bowl of soup in his hand as he knocked and waited for you to answer. After a few moments he let himself in, you were in bed, depression had taken its toll on you. Your hair was knotted, your skin blanched and dry, your eyes red and puffy from the lack of sleep. Azriel tried to get you to talk, but all you could mutter was his name "fenrys" over and over again. .

The memory moved forward again. You sat in the grass 6 years ago, your skin starting to give a healthy glow and your hair long and healthy. Azriel watched you as you shook your hair out of your face and laid in the grass, sweeping your hands over the blades as you took in the sweet spring air.

He approached you, his boots flanking either side of your head as he peered down to look into your eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be training with Cassian?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. With a click of your tongue you answer “I don’t want to train today, I want to enjoy the first day of spring”. A small smile threatens to creep along his face as he nods, considering your statement.

“Well” he starts, turning his head to look out towards the house of wind, like he could see Cassian sitting there still waiting for you to turn up .“What would you rather do today? If not train” he finishes, his eyes sweeping over to you once more.

You inched your head slightly closer to his left boot, cocking your head as you looked up at him. The sun cast his face in shadow, making his features look sharper and his warm eyes glow ever so slightly.

“Maybe I could do some spy work with you?” You ask, his eyebrows jump up in surprise.

“Really?” He says with a warm chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine “I’ve been here 24 years and never left this court, I’d like to see more of this world” you answer. His face drops slightly at your words, his brother has been locked under the mountain for some time now, prythian was no longer safe. He couldn’t risk losing someone else he.. cared for, not now, not ever. But when he looked at you, saw the hope in your eyes and watched as you held your breath, something in his chest cracked.

“Okay, you can come with me to the edge of our court” he relents but smiles as he watches you beam up at him.

Neither of you knew it, but this was the first stepping stone towards your relationship now. Love slowly blossomed between you in the following year, but he knew deep down you still loved your mate and that was something he was willing to live with if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with you.

Present day

Aelin and Rowan jumped back in their seats as Rhysand left their minds “what the hell was that?!” Aelin shouted, her hands coming to cup each temple of her head.

Rhysand took a moment to explain and apologise for his power, that he was showing them Azriel memories in hopes it can better illustrate your situation. You stepped away from Azriel and walked over to Rowan, kneeling before your cousin you took his large hand in yours.

“I mourned Fenrys for 25 years cousin, I still mourn the loss of him now…” you say as Rowans emerald eyes flick to yours, his mind still reeling from Rhys power.

“I know you of all people would understand the guilt I feel, Rowan, please do not pass judgement too harshly on me” you continue, your voice threatening to convey the very guilt you feel as it tremors slightly. Rowans eyes soften at your words, he doesn’t look towards Aelin as his hand tightens around your own. He gives you a small nod in understanding, his eyes flicking between your own, the pressure lifting from your chest slightly.

Releasing a shuddering breath you rise in front of him and look towards Aelin, you know her and Fenrys are close, you knew it was her judgement that would affect your standing in court. Her eyes pierced you in your place, not a friend but a queen sat before you now. her eyes rake up and down your body before she says “Fenrys has been in his animal form the last 30 years searching for you”.

“Show me” you say looking to Rhysand, his expression unreadable as his eyes shift to Aelin, she nods in acceptance and you feel Rhys power enter your mind.

You see a white wolf, from Aelins POV. It laps at the lake you swam in in your dream, its fur greying and matted in some places. Her eyes skim over its emaciated body, ribs poking out from under its skin.

“You have to eat Fen” you hear Aelin coo to the wolf, it doesn’t even look at her before it plods off in the opposite direction, off to continue its search.

Rhysands power leaves you again, you feel the bile racing up your throat as you turn and sprint through the inner circle to make it outside where you throw up over the balcony railing. Azriel sighs and leaves to comfort you as he always has.

Back in the living room of the town house Rowan shoots Aelin with a glare, clearly upset she chose that memory of Fenrys instead of one where he looked a little less disheveled. “How often does she react like this?” Rowan asks the group as he stands from his seat.

“When she first arrived it was everyday, now it’s… every other day” Cassian answers looking over his shoulder to where you stand beside Azriel as he rubs soothing circles on your back. “I know she is mated to your friend, I know you want to protect him” he continues, his voice soft as he looks back at Rowan. “But she does grieve him, do not think that because she has found Azriel she has forgotten her mate”.

Rowan looks out to you now, his chest threatening to concave on itself as he sees you, his cousin and best friend lost in a fit of grief. He places a hand on Cassians shoulder as he walks past him to the balcony where you and Az whisper to each other. At his arrival you look over your shoulder, your eyes red and puffy from the tears that you’ve shed.

“When was the last time you shifted, cousin?” He asks as he places a hand on your shoulder. “Rowan I-“ you begin but his warm share cuts you off, you sigh before you answer him again “I haven’t shifted since I’ve been here”

Rowan hums in response, then lightly pats you back, he walks around you and the shadowsinger, down the garden steps and waits at the bottom.

“Come on y/n let’s have some fun” Rowan says as he shifts into a hawk. Azriel looks to you in disbelief, he takes a few steps away as the rest of the inner circle make their way outside to investigate the bright light they saw when Rowan shifted. You look at each of their faces, then back to the bird that flies impatiently around the townhouse.

“What animal do you think is faster?” Aelin asks no one in particular as she joins the rest of the house. The inner circle look to her as you decent the balcony and give your body a quick shake as you prepare to shift. A bright light engulfs the garden again as your body bends and transforms into a black panther, your sleek body and coat shine in the sun, you move your paws along the grass feeling the earth beneath you.

Looking over your shoulder your eyes meet Azriels who stares in disbelief, but in this moment you don’t care about anything but the primal call in your heart. The call to run, to hunt, to stalk. The hawk swoops from above you, its sharp talons clipping your ear warning a growl from deep in your feline belly. As the hawk shrills in warning you take off, running away from the townhouse and down the streets of velaris.

A/n: sorry If this chapter seemed super jumpy, I wanted to give more back story to Azriel and y/n while also capturing Aelin and Rowans discomfort. I hope you liked it!!

[attic-club-sandwich]

How They are Handling your Disappearance Pt. 3

MC Returns

Ahh you guys i'm so glad you are enjoying this little series! I wasn't expecting so many of you to like it! But as requested by many, here is part 3 where MC returns to the present day timeline and reunites with the 7 brothers. This is a bit of a lengthy one because like... we are home! It's a little less angsty, a little more happy this time haha. Anyways, please enjoy! Reblogs and feedback are appreciated as usual!

Read Part 1: Brothers

Read Part 2: Side Characters

Word count: 3,057

Rating: T, slightly suggestive.

Taglist: @amberrskiies @obey-me-posts @sassykattery @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @flemmingbamse @a-hidden-gem @otomefoxystar @siofrantic @todothedodo @ihatecorns @exrellian @vernith @sus0daddy

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rose divider by @/firefly-graphics

It feels like it has been forever since the day that you went missing, but the brothers never gave up their search. How could they when you were out there somewhere, possibly alone and scared? The thought of their little human wandering around the unknown gave them the motivation they needed to keep going. But after a long day of once again searching the Devildom up and down with no results, the brothers are settling down for the evening.

Lucifer

The Avatar of Pride is in his room getting ready for bed after a long day of searching for you. 

His wings are terribly sore from flying all day, so he lays on his bed sprawled out on his stomach, allowing his feathery wings to stretch out behind him.  

He rests his head in his arms, and sighs.

Yet another day of searching, but no results. 

Suddenly, he begins to feel a familiar tingling sensation of magic in the air that brings goosebumps to his bare arms. 

Before he had time to process what was happening, a flash of light filled his room, practically blinding him. 

After a few seconds, the light dissipates and there you are, standing in its place. 

Lucifer forgets all about his aching wings, and jumps up from the bed. 

At first, he hesitates, terrified that you’ll disappear again at any moment. 

“M-MC…? Is it really you…?”

His crimson eyes are wide as he takes in your appearance. 

You appear the same, but he's confused by the horns that now rest on your head, as well as a few other demonic attributes.

Just where did you disappear to?

Your face scrunches up and your eyes fill with tears. “L-Luci… yes, it’s really me.” 

Suddenly, his arms are around you, a million questions in his throat but unable to speak.

You whimper, taking in his scent. He smells freshly showered, the smell of his soap sending a wave of comfort crashing over you. 

“Luci… I missed you so much…I’m so sorry…”

His shoulders begin to tremble and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. 

You feel wetness on your skin as he begins to cry. 

Have you ever seen him cry before?

Just how much have they all suffered while I was gone?

Your arms wrap themselves around his neck and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

You stand there in his arms, his wings wrapping themselves around the two of you protectively. 

He will never let you go again. 

After a few moments, he pulls away, staring into your eyes.

“MC, the days I've spent searching for you were endless… but never once did I give up. I’m very glad that I didn’t. Every second was worth my time.”

Suddenly his lips are on yours and you accept his kiss greedily. 

Kissing him was the confirmation you needed that you were home. 

“MC, please forgive me. You can tell me the details later, but right now I just need you. I need to know you are here and…real.” 

He spins you around, guiding you to his bed so the back of your legs hit the edge, causing you to fall back. 

He hovers over top of you, his crimson eyes full of love, adoration, and desire. 

You giggle through your tears, placing a hand on his cheek. “I love you so much, Luci.”

He smiles, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Words alone cannot express my love for you, little one.”

You give him a peck on the lips again. “We have a lot of time to make up for you know… where should we start?”

Lucifer gives you a mischievous grin. “I have just the thing in mind, darling. Something that has been long overdue.”

Mammon

Mammon returned to his bedroom shortly after arriving home. 

He had to check on his ravens who were also out searching for you while they were gone. 

His wings were sore as shit, and all he wanted to do was shower and go to bed. 

But you are more important. 

Throwing open his window, one of his ravens glides down to greet him. 

“Damn, ya didn’t find anything did ya?”

The raven hangs its head sadly, and Mammon sighs.

“Thanks anyways, I appreciate the help.”

Suddenly the raven begins to flap its wings wildly, cawing at something behind him. 

Mammon spins around, and his golden eyes widen in shock when he sees just who is appearing in the middle of his bedroom. 

It was you, clear as day. 

He’s speechless, unable to find the right words even though he’s been playing them on repeat in his head since the day you left. 

“Mammon!” you shout with tears in your eyes. You begin to run towards him, but he meets you halfway, scooping you up into his arms and spinning you around.

He sets you down again, and hugs you snugly to his chest. 

“MC…I… Shit. I-I missed ya so damn much…” he says with a shaky voice. 

You inhale his scent as he hugs you, which smells of sweat and leather. 

You’re home. He’s your Mammon. Finally…

“Mams, I’m so so sorry… I’ll explain everything I promise…”

He pulls you away from him, his golden blue gaze staring intensely at you.

“Damn right ya will! But for now…I don’t care..I just… I need ya so bad… I mean this can’t be real, right?”

You give him a small smile, taking his hand in yours. 

“I’m real, Mammon. I promise.”

His tanned skin is flushed as he pulls you with him to sit on his bed, hoisting you up onto his lap. 

He can’t hold back anymore as he plants a firm kiss to your lips. 

You accept it eagerly. 

Your tongues intertwine briefly before he pulls away, breathless. 

“I love ya MC, I’m so sorry I couldn’t do a damn thing…” 

You silence him with a kiss to the forehead. 

“It’s not your fault, Mammon. Please don’t cry…”

He notices your own lip quivering, and let’s out an amused snort through his tears.

“Don’t you go cryin’ on me either!”

His long, slender fingers run through your hair and you sigh.

His lips are on yours once more, a low growl rumbling in his chest. 

You can sense his overwhelming desire threatening to take over.

“Mammon’s got ya now, treasure. You’re safe with me. I’m never letting you go again.”

Leviathan

Throughout the search, Levi has been exploring every inch of the Devildom waters. 

From seas to lakes, he still could find no trace of you. 

Levi heads back to his room, a towel around his waist after Lucifer forced him to strip in the hallway so he didn’t track water through the house. 

Once he’s dried off and dressed again, he sinks down in his gaming chair, sighing as his aching limbs are finally able to rest. 

Tears welled up in his eyes, disappointed that he let everyone down again. 

Especially you.

I’m so useless, he thinks. 

A stray tear rolls down his cheek, and he wipes it away with his arm. 

A flash of light appears before him, and it sends a tingling sensation up his body. 

Wait a minute…that’s…!

His eyes are wide and his mouth gapes open as he looks up to see you standing there right in front of him.

“M-MC, I-Is it really y-you?!” Of course he’s a stuttering mess, but he can’t believe it.

He doesn’t know when he stood up, but suddenly you are slamming into him, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“Yes, Levi. It’s me.” you sob, burying your face into his chest.

Your voice has him melting in your grip. 

He finally fully embraces you, burning his face into your hair. 

Your scent is slightly different,  and he can smell other demons on you. 

This sends a wave of envy over him, but he ignores it. All he cares about is that you’re home.

He, however, smells of the sea. 

“Levi, I'm so sorry… I promise I’ll explain. I just really need you right now. I’ve missed you so much…”

Leviathan only nods, his shoulders trembling from the sobs that are escaping him. 

You stay standing there wrapped in his arms, gently rubbing circles on his back. 

After some time, he calms down. 

His eyes are red and puffy and his face is swollen. Your heart aches for him. 

Suddenly, he grabs your hand, leading you over with him to his bathtub. 

You climb in together, and you sit in his lap. His tail curls around you, holding you in place. 

“M-MC…can I um, k-kiss you?” he asks, his tear stained cheeks becoming flushed. 

You nod eagerly, and he places a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. 

Your lips are the same as ever, soft and sweet. 

Levi is overwhelmed with affection for you. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you…” he mutters, rocking you gently in his lap. 

He peppers your face with kisses and you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I love you so much too, Levi. I’m so glad to be home…” 

He rests his head on your shoulder, purple strands of his hair tickling your cheek. 

“Please don’t leave me like that again, MC. I-I was so scared…”

The tremor in his voice causes fresh tears to form in the corner of your eyes. 

“Never again, I’m staying right here with you.”

Satan

Satan steps over the pile of books on his floor before flopping down onto his bed. 

His bedroom is in quite the disarray due to his last tantrum. 

He can’t help that he’s just so damn frustrated!

They’ve practically searched the Devildom inside out, and still… nothing. 

He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares out the window, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. 

He almost doesn’t notice the burst of light filling his bedroom. 

The air was practically vibrating with magic when he spun his head around to see the silhouette of a figure in the blinding light. 

He squints, trying his best to make out the form. Once the light dissipates, an unfamiliar feeling washes over him. 

Satan thought he’s finally experienced every emotion in his lifetime of being in the Devildom. 

But what he feels when he sees you standing there in his bedroom is indescribable. 

He gasps, immediately jumping up from his bed and hurrying over to you. 

Your eyes are locked on him, and he thought he noticed you flinch the moment he approached you. 

“MC… are… you okay? Where in the Devildom have you been?”

His voice is soft, but it trembles slightly.

He doesn’t expect answers right away, of course. 

Not when you are standing here in front of him for the first time in what feels like an eternity.  

You nod, trying to wipe away your tears. “Satan… It’s me. I-I’m home.”

The sound of his name leaving your lips after so long pushes him over the edge. 

He pulls you into his arms and he squeezes you tight, finally allowing his tears to fall. 

“M-MC… I'm so glad you’re home safe… I was so worried about you…”

You relax against his chest, finally processing the fact that this wasn’t the past version of himself.

After a few moments, you sniff, pulling away from him to gaze into his eyes. You notice a scar on his cheek, still healing from a recent fight he must have had. 

You gently trace your fingers over it, and he winces. 

“I’m so sorry Satan…the pain that I must have caused you all…” 

He shakes his head, glancing away. 

“I’m just so relieved you are home, MC. I don’t believe that whatever happened was your fault.” 

His fingers run through your hair and he kisses your forehead. 

“Can I…kiss you?” you ask, your cheeks flushing slightly. Normally you wouldn’t ask, but it’s been awhile. 

“Of course, kitten. But just know if you do, I may not be able to hold myself back from you much longer.”

You give him a smirk, and press your lips firmly to his. 

To finally kiss your Satan once more. 

He slips his tongue past your lips, and you groan. 

When you pull away, his emerald eyes are shining with passion. 

“Every book I read told me how to find you, but they never mentioned how to handle your return.” 

He moves you to his bed with him so you are straddling his lap.

“But I don’t believe I need any instruction as to what comes next. I love you, MC. Please allow me to express the longing I’ve felt for you all this time.”

Asmodeus

Asmo had made his way to his room for the evening with the overwhelming urge to climb into his silk bed sheets. 

But first he really wanted a bath. The thought of the warm water soothing his aching joints was very pleasant to him right now. 

He had made his way into the bathroom to start the water, the noise of the faucet drowning out the sound coming from his bedroom. 

Asmo thought he heard something, and he lifted his head to the door that connects from the bathroom to his room. 

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. 

Was that a flash of light just now? Is it storming?

He furrowed his brow in confusion, and stepped slowly over to peek through the door. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. 

There you were, standing right there in his bedroom. 

Your eyes were wide and looking around, still processing where you had appeared. 

Asmo gasps, forgetting about the bath and hurries over to you. 

“M-MC?!” he shrieks, pulling you into the tightest hug he’s sure he’s ever given. 

You begin to cry, tears falling down your cheeks and onto his shoulder.

“Shhh, MC. Don’t cry now, darling…” he coos, but his own tears are escaping him. 

He holds you close as you cry together. 

“Asmodeus…is… it really you? My Asmo?” you whimper. 

He’s confused by what you mean, but he doesn’t question it for now. 

“Of course my little lamb, it’s me. You’re home now…”

You sniff, pulling away from him slightly. “I’m so sorry Asmo, I swear I didn’t mean to leave you guys like that…”

Taking your hands in his, he shakes his head. “No no, hon, don’t blame yourself for this. I know there’s a very good reason, but you can explain later to all of us, okay?” 

You nod, wiping your eyes. 

“I was just about to get a bath. Would you care to join me, MC?”

The thought of taking a bath with Asmo right now feels…unreal. 

You couldn’t believe you were finally home with him. 

Smiling, he leads you into the bathroom. 

First, he steps out of his robe, and your face flushes. 

You’ll never get over how beautiful he is. 

Then it’s your turn.

You shiver as he begins to undress you, his fingers brushing over your skin. 

He smiles softly as he notices the goosebumps that begin to form on your body. 

“I’ve missed this so much. Let me get a good look at you, darling.”

His eyes tear up again as his eyes travel over your body, still in disbelief that you were standing right there with him again after so long.

“I need all the time I can get with you right now before my brothers find out you’re home.”

He takes your hand and helps guide you into the bathtub. 

You sigh as the warm water envelops you and he places you in between his legs with your back to him. 

You feel his arms wrap themselves around you and you blush.“I’ve only been dreaming of this moment with you, MC.” Asmo murmurs, attaching his lips to your shoulder. 

You whine as he continues to kiss up your neck. 

“I love you so much, Asmo…”

He smiles into the crook of your neck as he holds you close. 

“My dear, if anything came out of your disappearance, it’s how much I realized that I love you. Please, allow me to show you…”

Beelzebub and Belphegor

The twins were always together nowadays. 

They were both getting ready for bed in their room after their long day, neither of them wanting to speak about the disappointing results of the search. 

Belphie hugged his pillow to his chest as he climbed into bed beside Beel. 

He was struggling to stay awake, but he had a peculiar feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Of course, being his twin, Beel felt it too. It wasn’t hunger, or anything like that… It was…

“Belphie do you feel…”

Before he could finish, a burst of light filled the room, temporarily blinding them both.

The sensation of magic through the air sent shivers down their spines. 

Once the light dulled, they glanced up through squinted eyes to see… you. 

Wait, is that really…?

Despite the dull ache in their bodies, they both jump up.

“MC!” their violet eyes are wide as they gape at you, still trying to decide if this was real or a cruel hallucination.

But you seem just as surprised as they are. 

Suddenly, you feel yourself being pulled into a strong embrace. 

Belphie is squeezed into the hug next to you, and you both glance up to see Beel with tears streaming down his cheeks. 

“B-Beel… Belphie…I’ve missed you both so much…”

You sob, burying your face into Beel’s chest.

Belphie finally allows his tears to fall. I’m so lame, he thinks.

How dare you make him cry like this?

But he’s so happy. So relieved. 

Beel begins to move you both towards his bed, placing you right between him and his brother. 

You whimper as you feel their arms wrap around you. 

The thought of being able to do this again with them never even crossed your mind. 

You feel Beel nuzzle his face into your hair. 

You smelled…different. But there was no denying your familiar scent and it made his mouth water.

Belphie yawned, burying his face into your shoulder. 

“Beel and I had each other, but MC… you are our missing piece.”

His twin nodded, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Belphie is right. It feels right again with you here in between us.”

Your heart was so full. 

You smiled wide as you kissed both of their foreheads. 

“My boys…I love you so much.”

As you laid together, they took turns littering you with kisses and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. 

The feeling of their lips and their hands on your body has your head spinning, and you whisper their names between breathless gasps. 

After sometime, Beel turned towards you, a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

“I’m feeling a bit hungry…but for something different. How about you Belphie?”

Belphie immediately sensed where his twin was going and flashed him a smile back.

“I’m all of a sudden wide awake. What do you say you join us, MC? We want you to ourselves before we have to go back to sharing you.”

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

Hello! Could you possibly write this prompt >“to me, you are perfect.”< for Joel Miller? I was thinking like, it's a established relationship, and Joel's self-esteem is kinda shit because he's noticed a few greys in his hair and he's gotten a pudgy belly after settling in Jackson and he's just very very insecure :( and we're taking care of our man and reassuring him he's perfect and that we ain't leaving his cute little ass anytime soon :). But hey, feel free to ignore everything I just said and just use the prompt lol

Ohh, how could I say no to such a nice request. I hope I will meet your expectations. Thank you, sweetie. ❤️ i'm sorry for all mistakes

warnings : fluff, but with a little bit of smut at the end (+18), one grumpy guy with a lot of insecurities, a few curse words, Ellie mentioned

prompts list here

It started slowly. As it always does. 

Joel became more moody and grumpy. When Ellie said, with a laugh, that the button on his shirt didn't fall off from age, but that his belly had grown, Joel gave you both a gloomy look and left the house.

Then, through the half-open bathroom door, you saw him looking at his hair in the mirror. Okay, he already had some gray hairs, but he also had the impression that there had been more of them lately.

His knees and back were giving him hell sometimes, but he had been complaining about that for years. At least there was one constant here.

Although life in Jackson was much safer than outside of it, Joel had the impression that he was starting to age much faster here. So he was just waiting for you to notice it too, to point out his gray hair, his belly, or whatever. If Ellie noticed it, then you had to pay attention to it too.

"Can we stop for a moment? I'm starving."

Joel turned around and looked at you. He liked going on patrols with you. He preferred it over you doing it with someone else. It reminded him a bit of the not-so-long-ago times when you traveled together, with Ellie too of course.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." he mumbled looking around the forest. "Do you have coffee?"

You handed him a thermos and pulled out sandwiches. It was a nice day, and you still had a few hours ahead of you.

"So are you going to tell me what's bothering you so much?" you asked, handing him one of the sandwiches.

"Nothing." he grumbled.

"Oh, right. I've noticed you've become different, even in bed, so you better tell me." You bit into the sandwich and fixed your gaze on Joel.

He didn't seem eager to talk, but at the same time you knew he had to get it all off his chest eventually.

"Don't you miss it when we hiked together?" he asked, taking a bite of the sandwich and chewing it.

"You call our attempt to get to Jackson a hike?" you giggled. "No, not really. What about you?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you miss the lack of warm showers, night guards, the lack of such tasty sandwiches as we have now?"

"That's not what I mean." he grimaced. "I'm talking about something else. We were alone, but together. We were different. In Jackson, we get...lazy."

You analyzed his words for a moment. You had guessed what was bothering him for some time, but you didn't want to confront him with it yet. Joel needed time.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my form." you finally spoke, he raised his eyes to you with hope. "Since I've been getting enough sleep and eating full meals, I guess I've become less attentive.”

"See! That's what I'm talking about."

"Ellie's gained weight, thankfully, since we've been in Jackson. She's still growing, so she needs it."

"Teenagers are always fucking hungry." Joel shook his head in disbelief.

"Mhm..." you took a sip of your coffee. "Lately I feel like there's a lot more young people in Jackson, don't you think?"

Miller nodded, sitting on a fallen tree trunk, clearly lost in thought. "Sometimes I feel like a senior at a sports camp. Not that I can't keep up with them, but..."

"Your knees won't let you forget that." he nodded. "And your back." Joel grimaced and tucked his sandwich away. "You wish you were twenty years younger again, huh?"

He cleared his throat and looked at you uncertainly. "Is that bad?"

You shook your head and tucked your sandwich away too. "I don't think it's a bad thing. Sometimes I envy those young girls too, but..."

"But what?" he frowned, looking at you with concern.

"But the hottest guy in Jackson is still sleeping in my bed." You winked at him, smiling.

Joel rolled his eyes and sighed, "Bullshit! I've seen those younger guys looking at you. If only you wanted to..."

"You think I do?"

You looked at each other in silence.

"None of them are you, Joel." You finally spoke, dark eyes looking at you with hope, "None of them saw me like you do. None of them drive me crazy like you do sometimes."

You stood up from your seat and walked over to him. You spread his knees even more with your legs, standing between them. A soft hand slid into his hair, then went down his cheek. His stubble gently tickled your skin.

"None of them know how to make me moan, and you know so many ways..." you saw him swallow hard, clearly focused on your every word. "None of them have ever had me like you do."

"They could definitely last longer." Joel replied. His low, dark voice hit your most sensitive spots.

A groan of impatience escaped your throat. "I don't fucking care. I'm not trading the best ass in Jackson for some horny brat."

"You make me horny all the time."

"Good." A sly smile appeared on your lips and you suddenly knelt down in front of him. "So let me show you how much I like you, Joel. Because to me, you are perfect." your fingers hungrily began to unbuckle the belt of his jeans. "I love every inch of your body. I love how safe and loved I feel around you. I love how your arms hold me tight. I love... Oh, hello there."

He saw the glint in your eyes as his hard manhood peeked out of his jeans. Joel breathed deeply, dark eyes turning almost black. How on earth did a woman like you find him in this world and want to be with him? He didn't know the answer, but he knew that this was the best thing that had ever happened to him. A quiet sigh escaped his chest as you touched him.

"Let me show you how much I like you, Joel." He closed his eyes.

He let you worship his body, promising himself that as soon as you returned to Jackson, he would do the same for you. He would walk around the city with pride, knowing that you had chosen him. That you loved him no matter what.

"Holy shit!" he groaned as he felt your lips wrap around his cock.

This patrol will probably take you a little longer.