#Isn't exactly matter at the end of the day is it?

[gayspacepiratesss]

Hiiii friends I made a thing!!! 💕 An illustrated mini-fic, to be precise.

The art part isn't quite finished but I think the last three illustrations might take me longer and I wanted to share what I have so far. There are six color plates now and eventually I hope I'll have nine. I'll do a separate art post when they're all finished for folks who aren't as interested in the story!

I wrote this because I was thinking about trauma, and Neve's love for Docktown, and how two people who take too much responsibility for things might try and fail to help each other. About how breaking out of regret prisons isn't something most of us get to do just once, but over and over again: new chapters in the same old story. Plot twists that get a little better each time, if we're lucky.

I think Neve and Rook are lucky, but you be the judge of that. 💕

***

Red-eye

In which Neve gives new meaning to the phrase "Cry it out" and Rook fights gravity with exactly the amount of success you might expect.

Content note: Some mild hurt/comfort, references to blood, angst, and many feelingsy illustrations.

-~-

The veins are starting to fade, but her eyes are still red. Staring herself down in the mirror, Neve Gallus can't honestly tell if it's the Blight or sheer exhaustion that makes it impossible to recognize her own face.

The days since Elgar'nan's fall have been hard for a happy ending: the work of digging friends from the rubble, patching injuries and broken bridges, burying or burning the dead.

Neve's gaze flickers past her reflection towards the slight, sleeping figure on the sofa behind her.

Rook has been there for all of it. Minrathous, Treviso, Arlathan. First to volunteer, last to leave at night. She's never been afraid of heavy lifting.

You showed up. You always do.

...but where am I?

In Dock Town, the ocean always made her feel like she could breathe. Here, the blue light of the aquarium is drowning her again. Cold shadows run restless across her face, almost dancing with the black traces etched into her skin.

She slips out the door alone. Again.

-~-

"Again?"

Rook sags against the wooden railing opposite Hal's fish stall, her shoulders tight even as her face falls.

The older man squints sympathetically. His hands scale the day's catch with expert automatic movements, but his eyes stay with her. "Earlier this morning," he confirms. "Same time, same story."

Every day for the past month. Early, late, in between. As soon as there was a moment they might talk, Neve disappeared. If Eann "Rook" Aldwir had ever been the praying kind, now—not the fall of Minrathous or the rise of the Evanuris—would have been the moment she was on her knees.

I would burn worlds for you, but I couldn't pull you back when it mattered.

What have I saved if I didn't save Neve Gallus?

She runs a hand through her hair, putting on a rosy face to match, and forces a grin she doesn't quite feel. "Ah, well. It's been hard for everyone, but..."

"... mmhm." Hal nods. "Time is what the city needs, maybe. Time, and they'll remember..." his voice fades. Suddenly he is very busy with the mackerel.

... that she loves them. That she always loved them. That she never—she didn't—

"It was Elgar'nan and Ghilan'ain—" Rook can't quite hide her frustration.

"I know." Hal chops a fishhead slightly too aggressively. "They'll know."

But does she know?

From the street, a shout as ropes go up to raise new scaffolding—there's work to do on some of the dockside apartments, newly in danger of tumbling into the sea.

Eann buys a fresh skewer and sinks her teeth in. "If oo fee er--" she ventures, mouth full, eyes already on the next task.

"I'll send her your way," Hal finishes.

But he won't. They both know.

-~-

They both know. Everyone knows. Neve Gallus, protector of Docktown—until she destroyed it.

She takes a long drag from her pipe, staring across the city from her perch above the Lamplighter—one of the only buildings to go unscathed by the massive tentacles of Blight that she, personally, had directed. The elegant cruelty of Elgar'nan's choice wasn't lost on her—if anybody knew how to target Minrathous' weak points. If anybody knew the city's secrets. Set her against the place she loved best and watch it fall.

In the moment, it had been a pleasure.

How do you come back from that?

When Treviso had been ravaged by the Blight, her heart broke for Lucanis—but her relief for her own people had blunted the pain. She remembers the moment Rook showed up on the field, one step behind Neve and Tarquin, one step ahead of the dragon. She remembers her own disbelief: "You came."

Eann had never looked smaller than she did against that burning-black sky, her skin—so pale it was almost blue in a certain light—flushed and uneven, jaw set against her fear. And Neve had never loved her more—a thought she had shoved down immediately, fiercely, completely, as she skewered a nearby Venatori with ice.

They won that day. Parts of it, anyway.

And when Minrathous did fall, it was Neve's fault. Not Rook's.

-~-

"Not Rook's!" Elek Tavor has brought his Threads. He shoos Eann away from the complex dance of ladders and platforms they're erecting to shore up the dockfront. "That's your job, nughead! I need her here!"

Gang members and locals set shoulders together against the weight of newly-cut stone and crumbling Blight, clearing the one from the ruined apartments and storefronts to make room for the other. They look like a training montage or an inspirational poster—if training smelled like clotted blood, and inspiration felt like vertigo.

He winks at her from over a pulley, tossing her a safety harness and a length of rope. "You're too good for us gutter rats."

She straps in, eyeing the higher floors. The corruption still needs clearing before they can fully assess the damage. It's not especially stable, but she'd rather risk her skin than someone else's. "Better a rat with wings, huh?"

"Better you than me."

She doesn't argue. Instead, she climbs -- reaching hand over hand for a better view. The city shrinks and shifts as she pulls herself above it. The Cobbled Swan blends into the paper seller stalls and merchant alleys, already in business again with whatever scraps they each could scavenge. The sea's slate mood gives way to a smudge of sky and stone, reflecting up the cliffs across the channel.

I know you're there.

Tucked somewhere among those caves and crawlspaces is a detective with a shattered heart, blowing smoke rings and tearing herself to shreds. Rook has watched her disappear, slowly but surely, with every day of "recovery." To rebuild something is to see what was broken, to go over the damage in fine detail. To catalogue every blow. But for Neve, it is cataloging her own sins, her own failures, in a neat series of boxes to be checked and confirmed with evidence. For Rook, it has been watching that soft face flinch and flatten with each victory, each moment of hope, as though it were a nail in her heart's coffin.

But Neve still comes to the city for solace. She can't help herself. And so Eann haunts Minrathous, signing up for tasks that don't really need her, checking in on the people she knows Neve loves. Looking for answers in The Case of the Blighted Dream. The Broken Detective. Docktown's Ghost.

She has tried to be patient. So. Patient. But sometimes the most ungenerous part of her thinks, I broke out of my prison. To find you. To have this.

Now I'm losing you to yours.

Distracted by the weight of her thoughts, Rook barely notices when the stone she reaches for crumbles in her hand—until it pulls the harness anchor with it, the whole wall of the second story giving way. There is a sharp jerk, and she is falling—

Falling?

Falling.

But even as her heart freezes in her throat, it is still pulling her across the water. Even as she braces for the impact, her eyes are still half-scanning the cliffside for a tell-tale flash of teal, a smudge of smoke.

-~-

Smoke.

Neve squints suddenly, her pipe drooping between slack fingers. Smoke? By the docks?

No. Dust.

Something is falling.

But the channel is not wide, and she realizes with growing horror that she can hear the sound not just of stone, blight, beams crumbling, but also voices. Shrieking, wavering. "Look out!" "Back up!" "Clear it OUT—"

And then: "Rook!"

Someone is falling.

Rook.

A blinding, burning fear bites into her chest. The pipe clatters to the ground. If she was drowning before, she is choking now, clawing her way to the surface of a dream she has been walking in for weeks. Trading pains of the past for a present that sears her lungs and surges down her spine.

Mages cannot fly, but all that is left of Neve in that alcove as she bolts through passageways and across rooftops is a pipe's worth of tobacco and the shadow of a thought, echoing like a stone dropped in a dry well.

Wait for me. Wait.

-~-

“Wait.” Eann coughs wetly, throat clogging with dust and something unpleasantly, unexpectedly—oh. Blood. Well. She drags herself up on one elbow, waving Elek and the others back slightly, hissing as the movement sends a shock of pain through her body. “Wait, dammit! I’m not—”

“You’re not what?”

Time turns to sludge as familiar brown eyes meet hers, topped by brows knitted together in fury and fear. “Not hurt? Not climbing walls alone?”

Neve kneels beside the shaking elf, hands already moving, telling Eann’s blood to stay inside her body, her bones to know themselves under the weight of stone for seconds rather than minutes. It’s no small feat, and she is immediately sweating. They both are. “Not the Maker's own damned idiot?”

In spite of herself, Rook laughs. Weakly, painfully. “No,” she wheezes. “I am that.”

Neve’s eyes flash and then flood, tears of rage meeting her perspiration as she gingerly eases one hand under Eann’s head, using the other to clear what stone she can. “What were you thinking?”

It hurts to think. It hurts to breathe. But to Rook’s surprise, it hurts more to look up into eyes that are actually seeing her for the first time since the fight for Minrathous. A face that is furious but not masked. She coughs again, her own eyes burning, unsure if her chest is seizing from the weight of stone or just the love of Neve Gallus. “I—”

You look for lost things. Well, I look for you.

“They need you,” she finds herself choking furiously. “I was thinking they need you, and you’re not here, and I—am—so until you come back from your fucking pity party—ow—”

Neve is already on her knees. She can’t fall further. But the red spilling across the stones is more than time can stop, and she knows she needs to do something—quickly.

Eyes on me, Rook. Stay with me.

“Me?” Her rage is half for show, until it isn’t. And her heart is beating half a step too fast, and half too slow. “You think they need me? Look at me! Look at this.”

If it wasn’t for Neve, the stone would be as sturdy as it ever was in Minrathous. Hal’s fish would come out of the water in nets, not dredged from the surface with glassy eyes. She ripped through the Cobbled Swan, she crushed the lean-tos and shacks of the alleyways to little more than crumbs. She is the reason her tiny, tidy apartment stands in ruins and the cats go hungry. Docktown would be better off if it had never known Neve Gallus to begin with.

Rook screams. It is partly words. “I need you!”

And Neve is ripping her best coat into ribbons because she can’t slow time and send people for bandages, for medics—and there is.

No.

Time.

But she feels her face go numb, and her hands are shaking, and her burning red eyes fly up to meet that fierce, clear gaze. She wants to answer, but she has no answer.

Stay with me.

“What was the point—of all that—if—” Rook’s face is flushed, but Neve thinks flushed is better than pale, better than empty, better than gone. She uses the tiniest push of frost magic to calm the angry red of bones and flesh forced out of place. To stop the swelling before it starts. Almost mechanically, she wraps strips of her dragon coat around Rook’s arm and chest, shattering rocks with one hand as her other shields that stupidly precious rose-crowned skull from further damage.

“—if it didn't bring you back?” Eann rasps.

Neve is shaking so hard now that she can’t bind the fabric properly. She’s not sure it matters. “Bring me back for what?! So that I could—I would—” What can she do, anyway? She’s no healer. If Emmrich were here—or Harding—but they aren’t. And I am going to lose you, and I am going to deserve it. “So I could watch you die?”

Sharp, ragged sobs. “So you could be here—with us—” It’s not easy to cry and suffocate all at once, but Eann is making it work. “Not alone—with everything—”

The black traces of Blight on Neve’s skin mingle with sweat and stone, forming a filigree mask across her face. She feels her grip on the air, on the time around her start to slide.

Not yet. “Rook—”

Eann reaches up with her one free hand. Presses Neve’s forehead to her own, Blight and all. Her body is looser now, heavier—she, too, is struggling to keep control. Sound leaks through the barrier around them. Is someone… shouting?

Her eyes are closed. Her energy directed only towards the point where her skin touches Neve’s.

“Stay. With me,” she whispers. Please.

And Neve Gallus, despite her best efforts, is out of time. She winds her fingers through that rosy hair, and lets a deep, heavy sound tear through her throat. Not knowing, not caring what it is.

I’m here.

Around them, into sound and color and light, the city explodes.

-~-

The city explodes. Scraps of sound and light fracture through Rook’s mind, almost artful—a pastiche of pain and motion with occasional splatters of blessed black unconsciousness. Emmrich is there, then Maevaris. The Lighthouse might feature at some point. Definitely there is blood. So much blood. Then black again. And then—

Ow.

Teal-tipped fingers are laced around her hand. The bedspread beneath them is clean. The hands are not.

“There you are.” Neve has not slept in a long time. Her voice catches. “Oh. I—”

I almost missed you. Missed this.

Where was I?

Rook reaches to cup her fingers around the detective’s cheek. Instinctively, Neve presses closer, lifting her shoulder to cradle the gesture.

“You showed up.” Eann finds that smiling hurts more than she expected. She doesn’t care. “You always do.”

Neve lets out a half-laugh, half-sob. “I could have made better time.”

The light plays across her face, still silt-stained and shadowed. Eann rubs some of the dirt away with her thumb, wincing at the not-yet-mended motion of various body parts, ignoring them in favor of something far more pressing. Then she stops. “Your eyes. Neve…”

A flash of something like fear. “Oh, they must be awful—”

“No.” Eann pulls the detective closer. She kisses the eyelids, the cheekbones, the saltworn freckles. The dusted brows. Beneath the dirt, there is only the warm brown of these features she knows so well. Beneath the exhaustion, there are only shades of caramel and acorn and leather in those bright, faltering eyes.

Holding the other woman's rueful, aching, anxious face between her palms, she inspects it with great seriousness. Her own blue gaze holds steady beneath a vaguely crinkled brow.

“Neve, the Blight—it’s… gone.”

And this time Neve doesn’t need a mirror to look for her own face. To recognize herself. Something more like a laugh than like a sob curls through her throat and hangs in the air between them, weightless. “Is that so? Maybe you knocked it out of me.”

“Knocked it out of you!” Rook’s wheeze is its own commentary. “Remind me not to pick a fight with a pile of rocks anytime soon.”

“Maybe just pick fights with me, for a while.”

“Mm.” Rook still hasn’t let Neve go. Their noses bump together. “I don’t only want to fight with you…”

“Later.” Neve pushes back, smirking gently. A promise, not a refusal. “You did very nearly lose that last one. But I’ll be here.”

“What happened—” Eann is serious now, her hair falling earnestly into her eyes. “Neve. It happened to everyone. And I know—it was awful. But we can’t—I can’t—”

Not without you.

Neve pushes the hair out of Rook’s face. “I’ll be here.”

This time, when she shuts the door, it isn’t on her way out.

[vincentvangoghs]

I have posted a lot about why I believe we have much to look forward to with Buck and Tommy in the future, and I figured, why not one more for the road before leaving the rest up to fate this coming Thursday?

Three Reasons Why Buck and Tommy Will Reconcile and One Reason They May Not

I'm listing these in order of significance, from least to most, although this is a top three of numerous reasons I could list, so they're all very important:

Three

Tommy watches Buck through a monitor in 8x15. What are the facts here? Well, for starters, the scene was never meant to happen, in the sense that it was unscripted and decided on at the very last minute.

They literally pulled Lou Ferrigno Jr aside on set and essentially said, according to Ferrigno Jr. himself, "Hey, we know this is very last minute and all, but we sorta need you to film this moment that isn't in the script."

Ferrigno Jr. asked how much emotion they felt Tommy should feel. Tears? No tears? We got tears.

This occurred three episodes before the finale.

It not only served to establish that Tommy felt something deeply for Buck (Ferrigno Jr referred to Buck as the love of Tommy's love, so do with that what you will), but it was also such a standout moment because it placed a spotlight on Tommy as an individual. It told the audience, "You just saw this Tommy Kinard guy risk prison time and the loss of his job for Evan Buckley, and now he's in tears and holding himself as he watches the object of his affection break down and writhe on the floor. If you're questioning why Buck and others think Tommy is so damn great, this is why. He just wants a family and he cares so much, exactly like Buck. Furthermore, this is happening during a moment that is not only highlighting most of the 118, but will also permanently alter the trajectory of 9-1-1 until the series finale. Remember this."

Two

The copter sequence from 8x15. @sahtinekryze has spoken a lot more in-depth about this, but they put time and money into this sequence, when they did not have to. Again, three episodes before the finale. Buck and Athena did not have to run up to that roof, nor did Buck have to seek Tommy out for his assistance. It was all telegraphed that way, yes, out of convenience for numerous components of the storyline, but while still strongly highlighting Tommy's devotion to Buck and the rest of the 118 in the process.

"And for you" is objective proof of that. If they didn't want the general audience to think, "I like this Tommy guy for Buck, they should get back together," they wouldn't have put "And for you" into the script at all. Instead, they would have kept it at, "I'm doing this for Chimney." Actually, better yet, they wouldn't have had Tommy in the episode to begin with, especially to contribute all that he did.

One

The cemetery scene from 8x05. The most significant, at least, in my opinion.

During this scene, Buck expresses that life is ultimately worth living because of other people. And when he's saying this, he looks over at Tommy, who is shown to be really affected by all that Buck is saying and doing during this moment. And even more significant, the scene ends with Tommy literally looking at the audience and asking for Buck's curse to end.

"But what does that matter, when the writers broke them up the episode after?"

You see, this scene was filmed after the breakup in 8x06. Which means that they still wanted the audience to know how important Tommy was/is to Buck and vice versa, even after filming a literal sequence of Tommy breaking it all off. Logic and basic storytelling 101 dictates that if they intended for the breakup to remain concrete by the end of the 'will they won't they', they would have significantly altered the cemetery sequence, even if it meant doing so on the day of, like they did for a certain other moment in 8x15. Buck would not have glanced over at Tommy, just as Tommy wouldn't have spoken to the audience, and Tommy may have been removed from the scene entirely. But... of course... they didn't remove him from the scene, not when literally everything else except the 8x06 break up has so clearly established to the audience that Tommy Kinard is unlike any love interest Evan Buckley has ever had before, especially in the way Tommy is devoted to Buck by always showing up for him -- and his 118 family -- when it counts the most. I see a lot of wonderful intent here on behalf of Tim Minear and the rest of the team.

So, with all that said, why might they not get back together in the finale? I think it's simple:

One

They've decided to extend the 'will they won't they' into season nine.

Personally? I'm betting money on an 8x18 reconciliation. It jives with everything we know thus far about the way Tim Minear and his team handle storylines.

Random P.S.

Tell me THIS SONG wouldn't be perfect for a season eight finale ending montage? It applies to so much of season eight, as well as the BuckTommy ship in general! The lyrics!

[itstwoamandimcursingyourname]

According to the small sciences (i.e. kinetic particle theory of matter[chemistry]), Zoya being able to control the various states of matter (wind, water, fire, organic matter), is not as deep as, Aleksander and Alina being able to create literal creatures of shadow/light(merzost [they're creating matter and energy from nothing they're gods]).

[britneyshakespeare]

Wearing my Big Time Rush Forever Tour 2022 tshirt while I Pokemon Go to the polls

[uncreative-cryptid]

shakes my ocs around a little

going to be a little insane over raziel but uhhh tw? maybe? for dysphoria ig but idk how to warn this really cause im just drawing from my own experiences and pasting it onto raziel lmao

i feel like raziel probably holds a lot of body dysphoria. not necessarily gender dysphoria, all things considering, just a general dysphoric sense regarding his own physical body.

like raziel probably has moments where he stands in the mirror and looks at himself. he sees six wings and the patterns of his wings and the speckles of eyes, and he smiles to himself as he meets his own gaze.

' That's me. ' he'll think to himself.

a quiet voice replies in the back of his mind, ' Not really. '

his smile falters a little. his eyes glance across his body. no, he's pretty sure this IS his body, no matter what the voice says, but it remains back there, whispering doubt. he will ignore it, but this voice always seems to sort of just be there. it's present no matter what he does, but he's learned to live with it.

these thoughts never fully go away, and i feel like this is also reflected in the fact that the havoc frequencies around raziel and demona are almost entirely from raziel himself.

the warping of the technology when exposed to the high amount of havoc has sort of .. imprinted itself into the technology.

the strange whispers you hear in the back of some recorded records. the unusual glitching of inserted thoughts on videos and pictures. the unusual and strange look of some digital photos, or the corrupted text in some records.

maybe this is the ghost of who raziel was.

that when he looks in the mirror, he doesn't get that undertale "despite everything, it's still you" prompt. he looks into the mirror, and he affirms "this is me" and always met with "but is it really?"

[ame-to-ame]

Life is weird as arospec asexual bc there's no good way to use words to describe what I feel and my experience that properly conveys it to allosexual alloromantic people

Even if I use vocabulary meant for this there's no way to grasp what it truly feels like, what the lived experience is like for me, because the allosexual doesn't experience it doesn't understand it

And so it's like trying to convey colors to someone with a different perception of color. They experience a reality different to mine. And maybe perception and sensation is the wrong allegory to use, even. Maybe the stimuli we experience is different in the first place. Maybe the sensation is different. But perception is definitely different. And it's hard to tell at which point do things start to differ.

But either way it's hard and I find it increasingly hard to explain myself or want to explain myself. It's so much easier to adopt that language and that culture aside from the gaping feeling that it's not exactly what you're experiencing. I can co-opt the term crush but what I feel. I know. Is not romantic attraction. Maybe some elements are the same but it's definitely diverged somewhere. But is there really a point in explaining the differences or clarifying that it's different? As long as the final goal is achieved does it really matter? Why am I doing this again.

[yanderedrabbles]

I'm thinking about a huge ex-warrior of a yandere. Big and bulky and all too familiar with bloodshed. You'd think years in the king's army would have hardened him, made him callous and cruel. But that's not true at all.

An ex-warrior yandere who cares so much about preserving life because he knows exactly how fragile and easy it is to take. A huge, scarred, mountain of a man who gets soaked to the waist in the dead of winter to save a drowning kitten. Who holds the shivering, mewling, runt of the litter in his hands with a gentleness you've seldom seen.

An ex-warrior yandere who doesn't even eat meat anymore. Who doesn't accept work slaughtering and butchering pigs when the holiday season comes around, even though folk offer him good money for his strength.

A good man, despite it all. Too good for you.

War is a terrible thing and you end up a prisoner almost entirely on accident. Said to be a spy though you're nothing more than an unlucky commoner who angered the wrong people.

He ends up a prisoner too, hauled off the battlefield when he's too injured to put up a fight. Just another prisoner of war, a dime a dozen. He's thrown into the duke's lockup and forgotten.

Whatever fate had in mind, you end up in the same dungeon. Cells next to each other, with nothing to do but tell stories and shiver.

It's miserable there. The gaolers are cruel for the sake of it. The meals are scant, the drinking water not much better. It's the sort of place where dying is considered the lucky option. And maybe you'd have given in, the both of you. Just closed your eyes and let your bodies waste away.

But unlike so many others, you have each other.

You can't see him and he can't see you. All either of you have is a voice in the dark. And somehow, that's enough.

Maybe you manage to escape together or maybe the Duke is defeated and his prisoners liberated. Whatever the case, he's right by your side when you step into the sun again.

How many years has it been? When was the last time you saw the sky?

You were sweet once. Kind, gentle. But years in the lord's prison have changed you. You're sharp and prickly now, slow to trust and even slower to forgive.

An ex-warrior yandere who sees the hurt under all your layers of indifference. Who decides right then and there, that first moment in the sun, that his one goal in life is to keep you safe.

An ex-warrior yandere who says he'll be your guard until you reach your destination, wherever it may be. You're weak, you're unfamiliar with the changes in the world. Anyone can come along and take advantage of you.

An ex-warrior yandere who follows you with a sort of quiet, implacable devotion. It doesn't matter if you're prickly or sharp tongued or so ruined that you fear your heart is forever frozen over. He'll always be there - two steps behind you to guard your back.

You try to send him away. Try to tell him you didn't need a guard dog. He just looks at you and says he's not going anywhere. Not forceful, but gentle and firm. He isn't leaving you, not when you're so scarred from the war that most days you don't speak more than five words to anyone.

It's baffling. Why does he care about forgotten detritus like you? What good will it do? He's still strong, still handsome despite the scars. He can still have a normal life.

But no. He chooses you.

Chooses to walk with you from one village to the next. Chooses to sleep rough even though folk offer him work. Chooses to endure the rain and the cold and the long nights spent sleeping on hard ground. 

"Why?" you ask him time and again. "Why follow me? Why make me your purpose?"

He looks at you over the fire, a small, slanted smile on his face.

"Why do you think?"

You can't quite manage to puzzle it out, though anyone who sees him at your side can almost immediately tell.

Eventually, you settle down. A broken down old cottage at the edge of the woods. A place the villagers are all too glad to hand over. Better you than the vines, even if your eyes do frighten them.

An ex-warrior yandere who fixes the cottage for you, brick by brick. Who cleans out the overgrown garden and trades his labour to buy you seeds. Violets and lilacs and daffodils. Mint and thyme. All the plants you told him you missed the most when you were locked away.

An ex-warrior yandere who spends his evenings sitting next to you at the hearth, not speaking much, just resting his head on your knees and carving wood. Thinking how lucky he is to have this bit of quiet. That all the years of war and captivity were well worth the price if it means having you.

An ex-warrior yandere who slowly heals the broken parts inside you. Who teaches you to watch the sky and the path of the birds. Who teaches you to breathe deep when the nightmares come. Who sits awake with you when you're too afraid of your past to sleep.

An ex-warrior yandere who tells people in the village that you're his wife, even though you've never even kissed. When you ask him about it, he just shrugs his massive shoulders and says it's safer that way. And it's only the trees that know the truth - he calls you his wife because he likes the way it sounds.

For a while, things are good. You tend your herbs and make your tinctures. For a while, he believes he's put his sword behind him for good.

But your past follows you. The angry lover who called you a spy, maybe. Or a lord who isn't satisfied that his secrets are safe with you still around. Whatever the case, they come at night. Watch you, wait for their chance.

You don't notice them, too focused on your brews and potions.

But he does.

When evening comes, he picks up his wood ax and tells you he wants to bring back a few more branches for the night.

"But we've got plenty. And it's dark."

He smiles then, warmed by your concern.

"I won't be gone long, dove. Just a short walk. Keep the food warm for me."

And it is indeed a short walk. He catches them by surprise, awfully quiet for such a big man. They don't even have time to scream or grab their swords before he's cut them all down.

An ex-warrior yandere who wipes the blood off his face and inspects the blade of his ax.

"Ruined," he sighs. "She'll give me hell for it, I hope you know that."

The cooling corpses have no reply.

An ex-warrior yandere who returns home with a stack of firewood and a bunch of wildflowers.

You take them from him and breathe in their perfume.

"Lovely. Thank you."

That makes him smile again. Look at you, saying thank you. Accepting his gifts. It's been a long road to get here. If he closes his eyes he can still see you on that first day, too bitter and angry to even say please.

The flowers fill your whole cottage with their wild mountain smell, and you don't notice the faint trace of blood underneath the perfume. And if he has his way, you never will.

An ex-warrior yandere who swears off his old life. Who swears off violence and death and blood. Unless it comes to you.

He'll burn villages to ash for you. Cut so many throats he can drink the blood like water. He's a good man, but for you he'll throw it all away.

And those who are stupid enough to try it? To hurt the only good thing he's ever had?

Well, they find out awfully quickly exactly what happened to the Butcher of Brostick. They learn awfully fast that a man can change his name, but it's a much harder thing to change his nature.

An ex-warrior yandere who is the kindest, sweetest man you've ever met. Who doesn't raise his voice or pick fights. Who's always at your side when you need a place to lay your head. Who loves you with the deep, immovable devotion of an oak reaching for the sun.

An ex-warrior yandere who always washes the blood off before he comes home.

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

5 DAYS IN HEAVEN

Summary: Since Wade is going away on a mission, he asks you to take care of his roommate. At first you will refuse, but in the end you will be so freaking grateful.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, age gap, strong language, masturbation, breast play, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (p i v), little blood, reader is smaller than Logan

A/n: This is so freaking long I'm so terribly sorry I got really into it, so I am sorry if there will be some grammar mistakes or some parts that won't make sense, I'm not a native English speaker, anyways enjoy <3

Masterlist

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

"Fuck no Wade!" you shut your eyes as you frustrated shouted. "Please I need this!" he kept trying to convince you, reaching for your hands but you flinched. "I'm not going to make you a fucking housewife, have you lost your mind?" you asked, beginning to doubt about men's IQ at this point. “Not for me but for Logan” he corrected you as if that made a difference. “It's literally the same” you turned your back as you walked into the kitchen, Wade following you like a dog on a leash. "Please, I'll do anything!"

You stopped for a second. You've never heard Wade so desperate and you've known him for five years and as a neighbor, you know his behavior very well, this is not like him at all.

"Why do you care about him so much?" you asked, leaning against the fridge with your hands tied across your chest. "He's my bestfriend! I love him-" "Okay now it's getting weird" you turned around again as you poured some water into a clean glass.

"Please I can't lose him because he starved, I need my fuckbuddy-" you almost choked as you heard Wade's words while drinking. Never drink while Wade is talking, noted. "And why can't you just take him with you?" you turn around and furrow your eyebrows. "It's not that easy pumpkin" you rolled your eyes but didn't give up to find some other way.

"So he would order fast food, what's the matter?" "Do I look like I have enough money to feed a giant who eats like a beast?" you sigh in annoyance as you slowly realize that there probably isn't other way to solve this. "Wade, I can't cook for him-" "Why not? You're the best cook I know! Please, just for five days, no more!"

When you saw his beggar eyes, you had no choice. You sigh loudly and close your eyes as your head drops. "Fine." You growl and immediately regretted your decision as Wade grabbed you and spun you around at breakneck speed. "Jesus alright stop I'm gonna throw up!" Wade placed you back on the floor and you struggled to keep your balance. But when your vision was no longer blurry, Wade’s excited face warmed your heart. "Thank you so much! I owe you I swear!"

He gave you one last kiss on the cheek before he left your apartment. You could hear him excitedly screaming in the hallway, even on his way to his apartment. You chuckle and shake your head, he is really a child stuck in a 30 year old body.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You don't really know Logan. You know that he moved in with Wade and they started living together, but you never found out why. Besides, you didn't even have much interaction with him, mainly because of his expression.

He still looks angry and sour, whenever you see him in the hall, you try to avoid him, because his stern expression sent you dread and goosebumps all over your body. Unlike Wade, he didn't look like a friendly neighbor who comes to visit you when he needs sugar or flour.

Rather, he looked exactly like the neighbor who just complains about you every chance he gets. You were a little afraid of the deal, going to cook for him and who knows what will happen if he doesn't like it. What if he spits on you? Or do anything worse?

You were only comforted by the thought that you would only go to him a few times a day and then you could lock yourself away and be safe. Your thoughts about Logan and the whole deal were interrupted by an aggressive pounding on your door. You immediately knew who it was.

You sighed when you saw Wade in the doorway, rudely barging into your apartment without asking. But you're used to it.

"So when are you moving in?" your eyes almost fell out of their sockets when Wade threw this question at you without hesitation. "What are you talking about?!" you tried not to think the worst, unfortunately it was the worst. "Well, you'll be living in my apartment during my absence-" you pointed index finger at him and shook him. "No no no, you didn't say that!" Wade stopped. "I thought it was obvious..."

Your heart was beating a hundred and six and your blood was at boiling point. "Wade! I'm not living with that psychopath!" you lost your shit and started screaming at him. Wade was still calm. “He's not that bad” you were shocked at his words and how easily he was letting them out of his mouth.

"Wade! What if he kills me?" Wade rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He won't kill you, don't worry, if something happens stab him...even though it probably wouldn't help" you started being red from how angry you were. "Why can't I stay here?" you finally asked him the main question.

"You know, I'm afraid something will happen to him, I want you to watch over him" you just started to mock Wade’s patheticness. Oh you are so done. "No….no! I am not gonna do it" "Ah come on sweetheart" Wade grabbed your hands so tightly that you couldn't even break free from his grip.

"I swear I'll give you anything for this, I'll be grateful to you for the rest of my life...just 5 days, please" even as you fought with every nerve and muscle in your body to refuse, his convincing eyes got you again and you let out an annoyed breath.

Wade immediately understood that you agreed and pulled you into a tight hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou" he kept thanking you and you started seeing stars for a moment from his tight grip. Again and again you regretted your decision and wanted to get a fake passport, change your identity and fly far away. Unfortunately, this option will not work.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

First day

The time had come for you to introduce yourself to Logan and move in. You only had a small bag over your shoulders, where were your clothes, hygiene items and necessary things. Even if you miss something, you can always go to the apartment next door, aka your home.

“Look, I'm just warning you, Logan can be a little…rude sometimes” Wade told you and you nodded. You already deduced that yourself from his face expressions. Even so, you wanted to be nice and make an impression on him, maybe he'll be a little softer if he sees you smiling.

“Alright, here we go” Wade looked even more nervous than you. When he grabbed the doorknob and went inside, Logan was nowhere to be found. You slowly followed Wade, looking for the grumpy big guy. But suddenly the door to the room opened and the famous, rude Logan came out.

He was wearing a brown shirt and jeans with a belt, now that you had a chance to get a good look at him, he didn't look so bad. "Logan!" Wade squealed excitedly while Logan still had a stern look on his face.

When his eyes landed on you, he didn't move a single muscle, unlike you. You were sweating, your smile was twitching but you tried to keep your cool. "Who is that?" he pointed at you and slowly walked closer. "So glad you're asking, Logan, this is your temporary housewife"

You were quiet but still smiling, while holding your hand for a shake. Logan rolled his eyes and moved his head from your sight in annoyance. That's a nice welcoming. "I don't fucking need her" you would be lying if those words didn't touch you a little, but Wade warned you, so you were at least half prepared for it.

You slowly dropped your hand back to your body and looked at Wade in confusion. "Well if he doesn't need me, I can go-" "No! Stay!" he grabbed your shoulder and looked angrily at Logan. "We already talk about this, be nice" he hissed through his clenched teeth and Logan just sighed. He looked back at you, that annoyed look still on his face. He was literally screaming through that face that he wants to kick you out and he really doesn't want you here. Your smile slowly dropped and you started overthinking, how the following 5 days would look like, with this grumpy rude man.

"Good kitty" Wade complimented Logan who growled back at him. "Well, the kitchen is over there, I'll show you your room and then I'll have to go, the mission awaits!" Wade got behind you and pushed you forward past Logan, who was staring at you but still with an annoyed and slightly confused expression.

"Well, put your things here and I have to go. Bye bye and thank you, I owe you” Wade quickly led you into the guest room, patting you on the shoulders before disappearing out of the apartment, leaving you and the curmudgeon alone.

You just let out a tired sigh before putting your bag on the floor and looking around the room. It was small but cozy. Even the view from the window wasn't bad, certainly better than in your own apartment.

“What's your name again?” you suddenly heard a deep growl and you quickly flinched as you quickly turned towards the voice. Logan was leaning against the doorframe, his hands wrapped around his chest, his biceps nearly tearing through the soft fabric he was wearing.You swallowed before looking into his face again and began to speak.

“Y/N…yours is Logan right? you tried to be nice again, thinking that the beginning was just a misunderstanding. God you are so pathetic. “Guess” he replied arrogantly and you pursed your lips into a thin line as embarrassment flooded your entire body.

"'kay...well it's kinda late, I'll go prepare some food" you informed him and Logan just nodded before walking off to who knows where. You were relieved when he left. As if his presence made you nervous, but not because of fear, but rather because of another feeling that you couldn't quite describe.

You came to the kitchen and started to assemble the ingredients on the counter. You decided to make spaghetti since that was the only thing they had all the ingredients for and looking around the fridge made you want to buy more stuff tomorrow. Apart from milk, some old rotting food and beer, they had nothing at all, men.

When you were almost done with the spaghetti, it was as if the smell summoned Logan without you having to say anything. He suddenly appeared in the kitchen watching you put spaghetti on two plates and pour tomato sauce over them. “I hope you like spaghetti” you said looking at Logan who surprisingly wasn't looking at the food like you thought, but at you. That caught you off guard a bit but not for too long.

"Mhm yeah" he said and immediately grabbed the plate when you finally added the basil leaves. Why are you even trying to decorate the food, you are not in a fancy restaurant here, but at Wade’s home. You just rolled your eyes and put noodles on your own plate. Logan's hungry chewing was making your ears pop and you couldn't wait to enjoy your dinner in quiet in your room.

No sooner had you added the spaghetti to your plate and decided to go into your room to eat, than Logan was already done with his food and obediently put the plate in the sink. Your eyes widened, Wade was right, this man eats like a beast.

"Do you want more?" he just shook his head as he wiped his red mouth with his hand and went straight into his own room. "m'kay" you whispered to yourself and since he left the living room, you decided to change your plan and eat while watching some TV.

This isn't so bad. If Logan answers with two words and doesn't have any long conversations with you where he just taunts you, 5 days will go by like nothing.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Second day

You got up early because of the annoying alarm and went to get ready for work. You changed into comfortable but formal clothes, put on some make-up and took your bag. When you left the room, no one was there. You sighed with a smile and went straight to the front door.

Apparently Logan doesn't go to work, which you were a little envious of. He can sleep as long as he wants, then practically do whatever he wants for days, surely he must be a little bored if he's not saving the world.

"Where you're goin'?" you froze in a place when you heard Logan. You slowly turned around, and your eyes widened even more. He had nothing on than boxers, revealing his muscles, abs, and perfect body, which made your saliva fly from your lips.

You quickly wiped it off and looked back into his face. God he was hot. His hair was messy but fluffy, his face looked relaxed and tired but that stern look wasn't there anymore. "I- I am goin' to work" you answered with a shaky voice, for which you immediately cursed.

"What work?" his voice was also grainy and deep, he was literally hypnotizing you right now. "Why do you care?" you finally gain your confidence back and he rolled his eyes. "Geez just askin'" he went to the bathroom without saying bye or something like that. You didn't mind, the only thing that was bothering your brain was, why was he so interested?

Just yesterday he didn't want you here at all and now he's worried about you, that you'll leave him? You probably just overthinking. You took your keys and left the apartment as fast as you could.

When you arrived at the restaurant, your colleagues greeted you and you put on the fake mask with a smile. You changed into your suit and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes with the others.

"Hey everything okay? You look pretty frustrated" one of your colleagues asked and it took you a while to process his question. "What? Oh no it's nothing don't worry" you added a convincing smile at the end of the sentence and continued washing. Of course you're frustrated when you have nothing but Logan in your head, his body, his speech, his hair... this is going to be a fucking tough day.

When your shift ended, you were surprised you hadn't been fired. You were confused all day, mixing up orders, got in the way of your colleagues and even burned food a few times. Each of your colleagues asked you several times if everything was okay and you always gave the same answer. Yes, it is. You didn't understand it yourself, how could you be so stupid today and burn the food? This hasn't happened to you in at least 5 years...

All this happened because of your constant thoughts about Logan. You don't even know how it's possible. After all, he's Logan, the guy you were afraid of and would do anything to avoid him...but that was before you've seen him shirtless in boxers. God those thighs, just thinking about them makes your core vibrate.

Frustrated, devastated and tired, you arrived at your temporary apartment, threw your bag on the floor and leaned against the door with your eyes closed. "Tough day?" you hear that annoying but really sexy voice again, but this time it wasn't in your head.

You open your eyes and saw Logan, sitting on the couch with a can of beer, at least this time he was fully dressed. You didn't even have the strength to answer him with words, you just nodded your head. After that you crawled into your room where you had to clear your head for a while, you laid in bed and just stared at the ceiling.

After a while you heard footsteps, but luckily they crossed your room. Was it really fortunate, or rather unfortunately? Your head was a total mess. Now you could use a hot bath with rose petals and a candle around. This actually didn't sound bad at all, so you decided to indulge.

You got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom where you filled the bath and let out a tired sigh. You probably won't have rose petals and candles, but the bathtub is more than enough. You closed the door, not even bothering about locking it, and took off your clothes. When the water was almost full, you turned the water off and lay down in it, a pleasant growl left your mouth, when the hot water covers all your body. You feel more relaxed than ever.

You closed your eyes and in the blink of an eye, all of your fails today and thoughts of Logan were gone. You listened to the water and the silence around you which was more pleasant than ever before. You felt like you were going to fall asleep in no time, this was exactly what you needed. Until you heard the door slam open.

You flinched and immediately looked at them in fear. Logan eyes widened a bit, when he saw you in the bathtub, but after that one second look he looked down immediately, embarrassed. "Sorry" he said and left the bathroom before you could react in any way.

You were shocked, did Logan really think you wouldn't notice the quick check out before he looks down? Well, now you will definitely not stop thinking about him and it's all your fault. If you'd just locked the stupid door, this wouldn't have happened.

You came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel holding your clothes in your hand. You got another jumpscare when Logan was standing by the bathroom, leaning against the wall. How long was he there? Was he waiting for you or was he eavesdropping on you? You had so many questions but so little time.

"Hey um sorry for that" he didn't even look you in the eyes, apparently he's really sorry. "It's fine just, did you see anything?" Logan took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, giving you a clear sign that he saw something. "Oh my god-" you slammed your hand against your forehead and started flushing.

"Not everything! Just um..." "Stop. Just, act like it didn't happen okay?" you were even more frustrated than before and Logan could tell. He just nodded and walked around you to get into the bathroom. You cursed under your breath and walked into your room, where you finally locked the door and fell into bed.

Is it some kind of sign or bad karma that this is happening to you? First you see him almost naked, then he sees you, why do you deserve this? But the question that really played over and over in your head was, did he like what he saw?

He would have covered his eyes or closed the door immediately, but he just stood there watching you for a while longer. Maybe he was in shock, just like you, and you're overthinking again, or maybe not…

════ ⋆★⋆ ════



Third day

You got up in the morning like you always did, did your morning routine and left for work, this time no Logan, no comments from him and it made you feel better. You knew that today was going to be a lot better than yesterday.

You didn't even have to put on a fake mask at work, you smiled for real because you had peace of mind from Logan both in your head and in the apartment in the morning. "Hey why so happy?" your colleague asked and you just shook your head. "I just slept well" which was not entirely true.

You couldn't stop thinking about that motherfucker all night. The way he looked when he saw you in that bathtub, how embarrassed he felt but also looked shy, which you would never say to such a tough guy. How he talks to you much more warmly now and how he even washes his dishes without you telling him to do it. You even had a dream about him that wasn't exactly innocent with rainbows and roses, rather the opposite. But that didn't stop you from having a bad day at work. Until you heard the familiar grumpy voice again.

"Is she here?!" "Sir, you can't talk to her right now-" "I just want to know if she works here!" oh no. You heard the angry punch into the table and knew you had to intervene. You stopped working and went from the kitchen to the restaurant behind the cash register, where was none other than the ass Logan. When he saw you, he immediately calmed down and straightened up.

"Hey, what's going on here?" you asked confused, trying to ignore Logan as best you could. "Um this gentleman is asking for you, is he your boyfriend?" "Fuck no!" you shouted, maybe a bit too much then was a necessary and looked at Logan. "The fuck you doin' here?!" this time you keep your voice low but still rough. Logan took a breath to speak but before he could, you grabbed him and went to the corner, so you won't bother the other customers.

"I um" you were surprised that he was out of words. "Goddammit just tell me!" "I was just curious where you workin' okay?! That's all..." although you haven't known Logan very long and well, you could tell he was lying. However, you didn't have time to investigate the truth so you just let out an annoyed breath.

"You can't be that aggressive here! If you don't order anything, get out!" and with those words you left him behind while walking back into the kitchen. Not gonna lie but you felt a little confident when you did this but you also felt a little guilty.

You are not the aggressive bad type like him, you find sympathy in people and you are a peaceful person who tries not to have a conflict with almost anyone. Logan is a really tough piece.

"Everything fine?" you coworker asked while frying some vegetables and you just nodded. How could you be so naive to think you'd slip through today without a single thought about Logan? You really are pathetic.

When you finished your last order, said goodbye to your colleagues and went to change clothes, fatigue hit you again. Today was better than yesterday, you were more focused and you didn't burn anything, but you still weren't yourself. You were still consumed by your thoughts and memories that your brain repeated over and over again, it was driving you crazy.

The only thing you hoped for now was that last night and the incident with Logan wouldn't happen again. You still can't tell if you liked it or not, but what you know for sure is that you can't stop thinking about that.

You left the kitchen ready to go home until you saw Logan sitting in one of the dining booths, alone, half asleep. He scared you again, like always, and you didn't know what to do, how to react, or what to say. When Logan saw you, he immediately stood up and was like a fresh fish.

"You're done?" he asked, like it wasn't weird at all that he is there sitting and waiting for you like your dad. "W-what are you doing here?" "I was waiting..." he didn't finish the sentence but he clearly meant that he was waiting for you. "Why?" you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion.

"It's pretty dark out there, something may happen" why is he so caring suddenly? Was he really waiting for you here all day, just to give you a walk home? Why? "I've been walking in the dark for years Logan and nothing happened to me" you informed him arrogantly and headed for the exit. Logan chased you like an obedient dog. "You never know" he added and quickly held the door for you like a true gentleman. You paused at his act for a moment before walking out and Logan following.

It was an awkward silent walk next to each other where you said so much but nothing at all. The street was quiet, hardly any cars passed by, and the glowing lamps around gave a pleasant atmosphere. You felt good, and maybe Logan's presence added something to that. After all, you were afraid to walk alone in the evening, even though nothing had happened to you yet, but with him you felt different, safe.

"What's for dinner?" Logan finally broke the quiet silence and struck up a conversation. "Oh um I don't know...maybe salad? If you don't mind there won't be any meat in it" Logan chuckled, hearing that laugh make your heart a little warmer. "Salad sound's good" he said as you arrive at the building.

When you got into the apartment you expected Logan to go take a shower or lock himself in his room like he always did, but this time was different. When you took off your coat and hung it on the hanger, Logan was standing in the kitchen waiting for you. You raise an eyebrow and throw a confused look at him. "You're that excited for the food or?" he shook his head and smiled. That's right, he smiled. You had no idea when did his tough-guy personality snap, but he is way nicer to you and you can't say you don't like it.

"Nope, I was thinking that I could help you..." you froze and just stared at him, still with that raised eyebrow. You were shocked, you didn't recognize him anymore. Logan notices your behavior, immediately having regrets. "but only if you want to-" "No! I mean yeah s-sure" you finally woke up and walked around Logan to get things ready. However, you couldn't escape the smirk that formed on your face.

As you pulled out the bowls and cutlery, you felt Logan's presence behind you. He was huge compared to you, covering you completely and you almost held your breath when you felt him almost touching your body. "What should I do?" he asked, his voice grainy, deep and low like a wolf, making you tremble from excitement.

You needed a second to answer him without any mistake or stuttering. “You can take the vegetables out of the fridge” you pointed your head at the fridge next to you and without a word Logan did as you told him. He put everything on the counter next to you and you couldn't help but watch his hands, how big and hairy they were and a lot of scenarios automatically appeared in your head of what you would like him to do to you with them.

"That's all we have" he breathed out and finally stood next to you, so that his dick wasn't touching your ass anymore. "That's fine, we can make something from that" you grabbed the cucumber and started removing the wrapper. Logan was watching you, really carefully and constantly watching your hand, the way you were holding that cucumber, the way you were taking off the wrapper, god he immediately started getting goosebumps and his dick started twitching in his pants.

"Give me a sec" he said quickly and left. You looked at him confused and flinched a bit when you heard the bathroom door slam. You just shrugged and continued to unwrap the cucumber. He probably just went to piss or something.

After you had almost half the vegetables cut to a small squares and thrown in a bowl, Logan finally returned. "Finally, I was thinking you ran away" Logan just chuckled awkwardly but said nothing. He watched you cut the pepper and finally decided to help you.

He took another pepper and a knife and started cutting it on the table. You didn't really care if he destroyed the table or not, it wasn't your kitchen after all. After you finished chopping all the vegetables, tossed the salad with the dressing, and Logan gave it a good toss, you were ready to feast.

You split the salad into two bowls, the same amount for each, and dipped a fork into it. Logan waited until you filled the second bowl as well, which was a little unusual as normally he would have already started eating and not even waiting for you.

Aftwr you take your bowl and Logan take his, you decided to go into the room to eat but Logan stopped you. "Hey I was thinking if you wanna watch a movie together?" again, his random nice behavior caught you by surprise. Where did the grumpy guy who literally didn't even want you in this apartment go? Apparently he's gone forever.

“Oh um…sure why not” you smiled and Logan went to sit on the couch where he was already holding the remote and selecting a movie. You obediently sat next to him, but at a sufficient distance so that you had enough space and it wasn't some kind of awkward, uncomfortable situation.

"Do you have any ideas?" he asked you as he kept switching between films. "Umm I don't know, I don't really care" you said as you finally took a bite of the salad, which was really fucking good. "Okay, you asked for it" he said and selected a horror movie called Evil Dead Rise. "Awh man this looks nasty" you said as you still chew the salad and scrunch your face in disgust. Logan just giggled and took his first bite too.

After a while watching the movie, you remembered that you are fucking scared of horrors. That film was chill at first, but after the first jump scare, you knew you are fucked. You tried to focus on the salad and not being some crybaby, but your fear got the better of you. When another jumpscare appeared, you almost throw you salad on the floor.

Logan, on the other hand, didn't move a single muscle the whole time watching. He was like a rock with a stern expression. The second he noticed your reaction, he had to look and intervene somehow. "Are you okay?" He asked and you just nodded, but your body said the opposite. You were shaking, wrapped in a ball and your eyes were bawling, the exact definition of a person being terrified to death.

Logan wasn't stupid and he knew you'd probably be peeing with fear in no time. That's why, regardless of the awkwardness of the situation, he scooted closer to you at first, seeing how you're gonna react. The closeness didn't bother you at all, so Logan put an arm around you, making you feel even safer.

"Is that 'kay?" he whispered in your ear, looking down at you while your eyes were securely locked with the TV. You nodded slightly and laid your head on his muscular chest, covered by gray shirt. It was comforting to hear his regular heartbeat. You felt amazing.

You don't even remember the last time you cuddle with someone like that. You don't care that it's Logan, all you focused on was the feeling. The way his body warmed yours, the way he made gentle circles with his finger on your shoulder and the way he breathed, these combinations made you forget about your fear.

After a while your eyelids started to feel heavy and you felt tiredness coming over you. But you were so comfortable that you didn't want to leave anywhere and that's why you succumbed to sleep really quickly on Logan's body.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Fourth day

You grunted as rubbed your eyes. You lay in bed with your eyes closed for a while until you realized you had to go to work. Your eyes popped open and you sat on the bed as fast as you could. You looked around rashly, realizing you were in your room under the covers. But when you quickly checked the alarm clock, it was damn late. "Fuck!" you shouted and jumped from the bed like a lightning bolt.

You quickly started changing and getting ready for work, even though you were already 3 hours late. The whole time you were cursing under your breath and your heart was beating in the fastest way possible. If they don't fire you today, they never will.

After you were all ready you ran for your bag and went to the door. You've never gotten ready so quickly before. Suddenly you heard the door open and immidiately knew it was Logan. However, you didn't have time for his comments.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. When you quickly glanced at him, he looked pretty tired, like he woke up just now. In addition, he had only boxers again, messy hair and his voice was so fucking rough. When you looked at him you felt a weird feeling in your stomach. "I'm late" you said as you were putting your shoes on. Logan was processing your answer for a bit before he spoke again.

"Oh, work..." he groaned as he realized what you were late for. You just ignore him and give him a quick goodbye before you closed the door and ran to the elevator.

As soon as you opened the door to the restaurant, you ran to the dressing room to change. You tried to be so fast but you were just clumsy and rash. Your chef's suit was crooked and not even all the buttons were on when you appeared in the kitchen, trying immediately blend in. "Oh there you are! Where have you been?" one of your colleagues asked, cutting vegetables next to you. You just shake your head.

"Long night" you sighed tiredly and cooperated with preparing the food. "You're lucky boss wasn't here, you would be cooked" you look at him as he said that and you both giggled at that stupid joke. "Go fuck yourself" you nudged him with your shoulder and shook your head. But he was right, you have much more luck than sense.

You spent last night in Logan's arms and after you woke up and put yourself back together, you realized that he carried you into your room. It's not his fault you overslept, it's yours.

You shouldn't have fallen asleep, you should have just gotten up, said good night and gone to set that stupid alarm clock. But whenever you remember the feeling of him caressing you, how comforting his chest was as a pillow, how his chest smoothly rose up and down, every time your knees got week and you feel that weird feeling in your stomach. You knew what that feeling was and you hated to admit it, but you catched feelings for Logan.

You can't stop thinking about him ever since the first day, you have unchristian dreams about him and you always catch yourself watching him for too long. You never thought you'd like a bad boy, but here we are.

When you were already cleaning the kitchen and getting ready to leave, you noticed a familiar person sitting in the restaurant as one of the last ones.

Your curiosity got the better of you and you peeked more into the restaurant. Of course that the familiar figure was Logan. Again, he didn't have anything ordered, he just sat quietly and stared into nothing. You couldn't help but smile at him when.

You went to change and said goodbye to the others as you headed for the exit. You pretended not to see Logan and ignored him until he instantly came up to you. "Hey, how was work?" he asked as he gentlemanly opened the door for you and waited. You felt your cheeks heat up and you had to look down.

"It was fine, except for the morning..." you chuckle nervously. "Yeah, were you too late?" he asked as he walked closer to the road making you back up a bit. Another discreet gentlemanly move. "3 hours late..." "Damn" his eyes widened as his mouth surprisingly twitches. "Yeah, but luckily I didn't get fired so" Logan laughed and nodded his head in agreement.

"Anyway, any ideas for dinner tonight?" Logan's efforts to keep the conversation going tickled your heart. "Mhmm honestly I don't know…how about pizza?" you looked up at his face waiting for reaction. "Like homemade pizza?" Logan looked into your eyes and you tried to hold eye contact as long as you could. “Of course duh” Logan smiled at your addition and nodded his head. "Sure why not"

You were slicing salami while Logan poured a ketchup mix over the pizza dough. "What about some music?" he asked, still focusing on the smearing. You stopped cutting and looked at him. "Music?" you asked, giving him a confused look. He nodded, looking at you too and when he saw your expression, he stopped his actions and went somewhere.

You were watching him, as he walked to the radio and pressed something on it until a song started playing. Your smile widened and you started laughing, when you saw Logan dancing. He was moving his hips awkwardly and you can see that he really can't dance. His danced moves could be compared to dad style in the 80s.

You needed to cover your mouth and hold your stomach, because the laughter started to hurt, but you couldn't stop. Logan looked at you and held out his hand in front of him as he approached you. You shook your head and almost collapsed on the ground laughing. "Come on!" he shook his hand, convincing you to join him.

After a lot of refusing and giggling, Logan finally convinced you to dance. When you grabbed his hand, he immediately took advantage of it and pulled you a little closer to his body. You squeal a bit at the sudden move, but you immediately cooperated.

You held each other's hands and did little circles with them as your legs scuttle back and forth. You laughed and squirmed, Logan spun you around from time to time and you enjoyed it as much as you could. This is one of those moments that sticks deep in your head. A memory that will always popped up, whenever you hear Logan.

The music pulsed softly through the air, a fast, intoxicating rhythm that seemed to wrap around you and Logan like a delicate thread, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, your eyes locking for a heartbeat too long, and the intensity there sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.

You tried to focus on the steps, on the sway of the dance, but something about the way Logan’s body moved with yours was deeply distracting. His scent, clean and warm, enveloped you, making your pulse quicken in ways you couldn’t ignore.

Then, without warning, your leg caught the edge of his, and you stumbled, your balance suddenly thrown off. Logan’s arms shot out, catching you before you could fall, pulling you tightly against him to steady you. For a moment, everything seemed to stop, your breath, the world, even the music seemed to fade into the background as you realized just how close you were.

Your faces were mere inches apart, your lips almost brushing his. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a fleeting second before meeting your eyes again. The air between you crackled with tension, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Everything about this moment screamed for you to close that agonizingly small distance, to let yourself get lost in the magnetic pull between you.

Logan’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours as he fought against the same urge. You could see it in his eyes, the desire, the restraint, the way he was holding himself back even though every inch of him seemed to be aching to close the gap. His gaze flickered down to your lips again, and this time, it lingered longer. You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly, as if you were subconsciously inviting him to make the move.

For a moment, you both stood at the edge of temptation, teetering on that invisible line. Neither of you spoke, afraid that even a whisper might break the fragile tension and push you over the edge. Your bodies pressed together, heat pooling between you, your breaths shallow and in sync.

But then, something held both of you back. Maybe it was the weight of all that had led to this moment, the fear of crossing a line you couldn’t uncross, or maybe it was the unspoken agreement to savor this tension just a little longer. Neither of you moved, though the pull between you was undeniable. The space between your lips remained tantalizingly close, yet untouched.

“Close call,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of humor and the tension he was trying so hard to rein in.

You smiled, feeling your own pulse slowly return to normal, though the lingering heat of the moment still burned between you. “Too close,” you whispered back, your eyes holding his for a second longer before you reluctantly eased back, just enough to regain some space, some clarity.

“We should finish that” Logan gently let go of you and pointed his head to the half-done pizza in the kitchen. You nodded in agreement, still dazed from the situation that just happened and from the feelings you experienced. You were a little disoriented, just as Logan except, he could hid it better.

After you finished the pizza, the atmosphere wasn't so stiff anymore. Logan was telling funny stories about his past and you just laughed and tried not to get overwhelmed by his gorgeous face. Sometimes when you listened to Logan, the world slowed down and everything was black and white except for him. He shone like the brightest star in the darkness.

After enjoying dinner, cleaning the dishes together and saying good night, you couldn't even fall asleep. You couldn't shake the thought of Logan, that moment when your lips were so dangerously close and even though you didn't have any superpowers, you could feel that he wanted it just as much as you did.

Feeling his beard brushing against your soft skin, feeling his tongue inside your mouth, you could just dream about it. Also, tomorrow is the last day. You don't know if it's good or bad, you don't know if you're happy or just afraid, you don't know anything at all. After all, deep down in your head you had a soft spot and a longing for Logan.

Inwardly, you longed to spend a few more days with him, a few nights alone and see what would happen. This overthinking went too far, you kept your eyes open all night and stared at the ceiling, while outside the birds started whistling and sun rising.

It's here, the last morning in this bed, the last dinner with Logan, the last day.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Fifth day

You stayed up all night, your stomach churning at the thought that today is final day. At the same time, you couldn't get that moment between you and Logan out of your mind, when just a milimeter was missing and your lips would be stuck together. The desire for Logan, the need to always have him with you and not let him go, was growing by every minute. His smell of cigarettes and scotch always tickled your olfactory cells. Every time you felt him, it was like your heart burst with excitement. But now you couldn't smell it, the only thing that tickled your nose was the steam from the food in restaurant.

"Hey, are you okay?" a colleague nudged your shoulder. "Huh? Yeah I am fine, I am fine..." you weren't fine. The thought of packing up your clothes today and moving back to your apartment, alone. That there will be no one here to hug and protect you while watching a horror movie, that no one will help you prepare dinner, these thoughts were pressing all the points to make you cry.

Despite all these emotions, you tried to keep yourself in check and continue working as if nothing happened, as if the world wasn't practically collapsing before your eyes. You tried to think positively and looked forward to Logan waiting for you again in one of the booths and escorting you to the apartment and making dinner together while talking.

When you finally finished your shift and said goodbye to the others, you walked out of the kitchen looking for Logan with hope in your eyes. Unfortunately, you couldn't find him anywhere. There was no one in the restaurant anymore and your positive thinking was gone. You went alone with gloomy face. This is last night and he just ignore you like that?

When you arrived at the apartment, upset, you were a little surprised to see Logan in the kitchen making dinner. He looked behind his shoulder and his corners lifted up a bit when he saw you. "Hey...sorry I didn't pick you up today, I was preparing dinner" he excused himself and your anger towards him was gone immediately.

Your face softened and your heart melted. He's also sad that it's the last night and he wanted to make it up to you somehow. He doesn't even have to say it with words.

"It's f-fine..." you said, still a bit shocked but more flattered. You walked up next to him, curious about what he is preparing. "Spaghetti?" you asked, even though you saw exactly what he was doing.

"Yeah, we had them on a first night, remember?" he looks at you and you chuckle at the memory. "Oh yeah, you were all grumpy and just took it" Logan scoffed and nodded. "Yeah..."

"Well, it'll be done in a bit, so do your stuff and then we'll go eat, hm?" you just nodded excitedly and fought the urge to kiss him on his cheek as a grateful gesture. You literally ran to your room, closed it and wanted to change into some comfortable clothes. The thing was that all your clothes were dirty and even when you tried really hard to find at least a one clean shirt, it was pointless.

You sat on the bed with a sigh and wondered what you were going to do. "Hey um I just go take a quick shower okay?" Logan burst into your room without knocking and you jumped a bit. He was gone before you could even answer him.

"Okay...." you whispered under your breath and immediately got an idea. You sneaked into Logan's room looking for his shirt. After all, he won't notice that you're wearing it, and if he does, you can explain it to him.

You didn't look long and saw a gray shirt thrown on the bed. You shrugged, grabbed it and walked out of his room into yours. You instantly stuck it to your nose and inhaled its scent. Cigarettes and scotch, oh the combination was sending waves of pleasure between your legs and you couldn't take it anymore. You quickly removed all your clothes and put on his shirt. It was huge on you, it touched your knees and you laugh.

You could still feel him as if he was with you, on top of you and that was exactly what you wanted. You laid down on the bed and closed your eyes, your brain immediately cooperating and starting to create million scenarios while you were still smelling him. The vibrating between your legs started being unbearable and you had to stop it somehow.

I slowly moved my hand to the fabric of Logan's shirt. I stopped between my legs and lifted the shirt up, a sigh left your lips as you felt the cold air touching your folds. Your hand moved down, your fingers slightly touching your folds, making gentle friction. Your moves were slow and sweet, just heating up before you started putting more pressure.

Your jaw fall open as you inserted one finger in, twirling inside and stretching your walls. You imagined that it was Logan's finger that worked a miracle, that filled you with emotions and the need to feel something inside you, to feel him inside you. You desperately tried to reach the sponge spot, that whenever you touch your head you go dizzy in a second.

You needed more, that's why you insert another finger inside you, moving in unison with your hips. You tried to catch up with your orgasm with gentle but eager sensations, Logan's images replayed in your head over and over and your sighs got louder and louder.

“Hey have you seen my gray T-shirt anywhere-“ Logan walked in, not bothering to knock. You gasped at the surprise and immediately covered yourself with a blanket. Logan weist was wrapped by a towel, making you even more wet at the sigh.

"Oh shit" he looked away embarrassed, but you were the one who should be. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn't you knock?" you asked, trying to wash off the embarrassment and replace it with anger.

Logan shook his head, still looking away from you. "Look I'm so sorry I was just looking for my T-shirt" "Well I don't have it so go check somewhere else" you said, your voice calm but your heart beat fast. Logan finally gains the confidence to look back at you, furrowing his eyebrows. "Wait, is that my T-shirt you're wearing?"

You tried to be as calm as possible. “What? No, why would I be wearing your shirt?” All your muscles were tense and you prayed that Logan wouldn't notice. “No that's definitely my shirt” he look at the piece that protruded from the blanket as his corner of his mouth lifted up a bit.

You quickly tried to hide more even tho you knew you were fucked. "No...it's not" Logan came closer to you. "Hey, stop tryna hide under the covers..." he grabbed the blanket and tried to pull it off of you, but as hard as you could try, he was much stronger than you.

"Let me just see it" after an unfair fight, Logan won and tore the blanket off you, revealing his shirt on your body. A devilish smile appeared on his face as he saw you. “So you are wearing my shirt” he narrowed his eyes and you started to panic.

“Yeah and what about it? It's the only clean thing I could find and it's comfortable” although you were telling the truth, it wasn't completely true, because deep down you know very well why you took his shirt. Logan chuckled at your answer and came even closer to you, standing right above you.

"So you're telling me it's just a coincidence that your hands are between your thighs wearing the same T-shirt I was just wearing?" oh you were so cooked. "It's not even like that..." you still tried to save it, but it was already too late. Logan giggled again, grabbing your chin, making you look up at him. "I'm not dumb, I know what you're doing"

Oh he was so freaking hot right now, and he knew it. "You're so fucking desperate" now there was nothing and no one to stop Logan in his way. He completely ripped the blanket off of you and got on the bed above you. In this moment you realize, all your desires are finally coming true.

He didn't hesitate for a second before pressing his lips to yours, aggressively and roughly. You immediately cooperated, your arms wrapping around his neck and your legs unintentionally removing Logan's towel as you wrapped your legs around his weist. You could immediately feel his length, making you whine a bit in the kisses.

Logan's hands were not docile and explored your body. He started from your thighs, continued under your t-shirt to your stomach and finally ended on your breasts, which he squeezed and massaged. You pulled out of the kiss, your eyes shut tightly as you sighed his name. Oh he loved the view he had right now. But he still needed more.

He attacked your neck with aggressive bites, leaving marks that will heal for a long time. "~Logan~" you moaned his name as you grabbed his fluffy hair and tugged them whenever he found that sensitive spot. You could feel his smile forming on his face, while sucking and licking your, now red neck.

Logan felt your wetness, your arousal. How he was grateful for those urgent instincts right now. He finally removed his teeth from your neck, but he definitely wasn't done with you. You opened your eyes as you watched him creeping down. His devilish smile not leaving his face for a second. The image of Logan's face between your legs drives you crazy and you couldn't wait to finally feel him. "You smell so fucking good kitty" he said before his lips leaned against your folds.

His hot breath on your bare core was sending shivers down your spine and you fight against every nerve in your body not to burst your hips into his face. He notices your desperate face and your shaking body, so he decides not to torture you anymore. He licked your fold, incredibly slowly but intensively, that you had to arch your back.

He repeated this move a few times, sucking all the wetness you could give him from the outside, before he burst his tongue inside you without any warning. You scream his name and pull his hair as his sudden move catches you off guard, making him chuckle.

His tongue was swirling inside you licking up all your juice, you were delicious. His nose was poking your sensitive clitoris, sending you even faster to your edge. Your hips were moving along his tongue, desperate for more friction and tried to reach your orgasm.

Logan stretched your walls even more, eating you like you were the best meat he had in years, his speed was unbelievable and the pleasure in you indescribable. You feel the tightening sensation in your lower abdomen and you knew you couldn't hold it in for long. You clenched around Logan's tongue, making it harder for him to continue, but he didn't stop. You tightly shut your eyes and throw your head back, as you almost pulled out some of Logan's hair.

He holds you firmly by your thighs, as your hips lose control and after few more twirl moves of his tongue inside you, the feeling of relief wash over your whole body, goosebombs appeared on your skin and your chest was rapidly rising and falling.

You smile, trying to catch your breath but your eyes were still shut. Logan climbed higher, he was now face to face. You felt his heavy breath against your cold nose, so you opened your eyes and smiled even more. Your juice glistened on Logan's beard and his hair messy, proof of your work.

He giggled as he saw your cheeks all red, your forehead sweaty and your hair destroyed, he loved what he was doing to you. "You're fucking beautiful princess" he said before he kissed you, giving you a taste of yourself. You loved the way he kissed. Hungry and furious kisses, but also sweet and gentle and si was his touch.

He explored you with his massive hands, his fingerprints all over your body. You looked really small in his hands, the sigh makes him even harder.

He couldn't get enough of you, he longed to hear you scream his name.

He quickly adjusted his hips and checked down, before he rammed into you, without any warning. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, as you felt his massive length inside you. The joke was, he wasn't even fully in yet.

You bite your lips, trying to be as quiet as you could but Logan didn't make it easier for you. He was inserting himself deeper, stretching your walls as far as they could go and he finally let out a big sigh, when he was balls deep in.

You felt so full, that every place inside you was now completely filled and there wasn't even room for air. You hold tightly Logan's neck and started making a blood mess on your lips as you dug into them with your teeth.

He chuckled and gave you a few hungry kisses, before backing up to get a good look at you. "Don't hold it in princess, let me hear you" his grainy voice tickles your eardrums and right before he finished this sentence, he started moving his hips. Just small smooth movements at first, he barely got out of you. Even though they were peaceful movements, it sent you sky high.

Your lips parted as you started leaving a quiet whispers and whimpers, barely heard but Logan heard them very well. Those pretty sounds of yours makes his mind go wild and he started gaining speed and strength in his hips.

Those smooth sweet movements? All gone in a second. They were fading into lustful, rough and uncontrollable thrusting, that makes those regular clapping sounds.

You rolled your eyes as he was hitting just the sponge wet spot inside you, you tried to desperately reach yourself before. "Hey, look at me" Logan growled through clenched teeth, and you with a bit of struggle manage to look at his focused face.

His hands find their way to your hips, keeping you in a place while he was pushing into you, desperately trying to catch up with his orgasm. He sat on his knees, looking at you from above, clearly showing who is dominant here.

You just seductively let him do anything with you he just wanted. You loved it, the feeling, the situation, the atmosphere, Logan. Everything together was sending you closer and closer to your edge. Sice you lost your hold spot when Logan sat down, your hands found the sheet around you and held them tight.

The wet sound started to permeate the whole room, after a while even the entire apartment. Your brain stopped controlling your body, which is why you started letting out loud moans and whimpers of Logan's name. It was pleassure to his ears.

He stopped counting how many times he imagined you like this, beneath him, fucking your soul out of you. How tears stream down your face and you beg for more as you scream his name. These thoughts and these dreams kept him awake and he himself is surprised that it took him so long to do this, to fuck you properly.

He feels that he is close and so were you. Another orgasm of the day was approaching very quickly, making your legs started vibrating. Logan growled, sigh softly, keeping his eyes on your face the entire time. Well, not the entire time, just a few times he checkedthe part where you were connected.

You started feeling that familiar urge to pee, while Logan's dick was twitching inside you, but not stopping hitting that juicy spot. You were over the edge now. You tried your best not to close your eyes and not release already, even though you knew it would come in any second. Logan also fought all the demons so he wouldn't cum into you and empty his balls, but he wouldn't last long either.

“Fuck” he huffed, dropping his head down while his hips lost control. His movements defied all laws of physics, the entire bed creaked with you and your entire body tensed.

"Logan I-" you couldn't even finish your though before you tightened around Logan, arch your back and close your eyes, finally letting the climax get you. Logan didn't stop, he couldn't, when he was so close to his orgasm too, his precum already mixing with your juice.

Logan felt it, he quickly leaned forward so his stomach was touching yours and he pressed his face into the pillow right next to your head as he thrust into you one last time with the most force. You moaned by his hit, still feeling dizzy from the recent orgasm. He growls like a wild animal as he cums into you, his fingers digging into your skin, definitely leaving bruises there.

You both breathe heavily, staying in this position for a bit. Your bodies were hot with sweat as you still processed the moment.

When your breathing finally calmed, Logan unhooked his face from the pillow and looked at you with a smile. "Don't look at me like that I look like a total mess..." you chuckle from embarrassment and close your eyes. "Said something bad about yourself again and you won't be able to walk for a month" your breath got caught up in your throat as you heard those words. He said that so casually.

"You're gorgeous" he added at the end and kissed you softly, calming your pulse and heartbeat down. After that he slowly pulled out of you, both groaning from the friction again and Logan collapsed next to you. You didn't wait and scooched yourself on Logans body, your leg laying on his while your head listening to those cute regular beats of his heart.

Logan immediately pulled you closer to his body and caressed your shoulder, making gentle circles on it. Your eyes were closed, trying to rest while being still full of the hormone of happiness. Your smile couldn't leave your face and neither could Logan's.

"What about the spaghetti?" you whisper softly, making Logan giggle. "They're probably cold now" he sigh, keep caressing your shoulder. You just grunted, too tired to answer that or even think of an answer. "Are you hungry?" Logan asked immediately with concern and you shook your head with a bit of burden. He relaxed after that and closed his eyes too. Both of you were tired and too lazy to get dressed.

"Would you look at that!" Suddenly you heard another male voice, this one was annoying and quite provocative. You both knew who it was right away. You quickly jerked away from each other when you looked at the door. Wade was leaning against the doorframe, his hands crossed on his chest and his smile was so fucking annoying.

You and Logan were frozen in shock, not knowing what to say or how to even react. "You take the 'take care of him' a bit seriously, don't you think?" you tried to defend yourself, explain it somehow, but you can't get out of this situation.

"Get out" Logan growled sternly but it didn't scare Wade at all. "Wow I mean damn I...I don't really know what to say-" "GET THE FUCK OUT!" Logan screamed this time, even you got goosebumps when you heard him. That already took its toll on Wade. "Okay okay chill...I'm just happy for you guys" he slowly closed the door but right before the end, he quickly opened them again.

"How many rounds did you have?" "GET OUT!" you both scream in union and Wade finally closes the door fully, leaving you two in a very uncomfortable situation.

You slowly looked at Logan and he did the same, but your staring contest broke as you both burst out laughing. You didn't know if it was the adrenaline you still had in your blood, or just a copy mechanism when something really embarrassing happened, either that you were crying from laughing, still laying next to each other, still naked and still in love with each other.

No one warned you that these five days would be the best of your life.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

[writerpeach]

Dichotomy

Kiss Of Life Natty x Julie x m! reader

30k words

---

Read on AO3

“So—“ Natty breaks the silence with a lean forward in her chair, elbows resting on either side of her drink—a matcha latte piled high with an absurd amount of whipped cream. A bit clings to her upper lip before she licks it away. "Have you ever had a threesome before?"

You nearly choke on your drink. 

Even for her, the question is bold, nonchalant, and taking you by surprise as you stir your own coffee. It's hardly the first time you've been surprised by what comes out of her mouth, but it's going to take a much stronger coffee than this one for the mental whiplash. "You know, most people start the day with a hello. Maybe a how are you doing. Good morning, even?"

Natty only smiles. "Then most people are boring. Now, come on. Answer the question."

The thing is, Natty isn't most people and can't even begin to pretend she has a filter, nor any sense of decorum. For as long as you've known her—which is basically since orientation week during your very first semester. Back when both of you were shy and clueless, fumbling along the university hallways. She’s always been like this. Bold and beautiful and utterly shameless. Ever since that one fateful day where she locked herself out of her car in the snow, crying her pretty eyes out until you offered her a ride home that ended with her between your legs—because she wouldn't let you say no to a blowjob as a way to return the favor. 

So romantic.

And you've been inseparable ever since. 

"Where's this even coming from?" you ask, dipping a bite of your pancake into a pool of syrup. "Did you buy me breakfast so you could pry into my sex life?" 

"As if I need an excuse for that," Natty says, lips wrapping around her straw, her cheeks hollowed as she slurps with this gaze that doesn't seem the least bit innocent. "Can't a girl just be curious?"

The pancakes here are impeccable—but not enough to distract from the weight of her question, or how red your cheeks feel under the heat of it. "Curious usually implies a level of subtlety." 

"When was I ever subtle? You'd be bored to death." It's true. So much. If there ever was an opposite to subtlety, Natty would probably be their ambassador. If she ever came up to you and asked something simple like what your favorite color was, you would know something was terribly wrong and she might need to visit the university's clinic right away. "Now, seriously, you're deflecting. Just answer the question."

You sigh, pausing before you pop another piece of pancake in your mouth, fork dangling uselessly between your fingers. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean, not exactly? It's a yes or no question. Not a lot of gray area here," she points out with this cocky grin that really doesn't help matters. But fuck her and her logic and the way she's sitting there with those tits all proudly on display when she over more, knowing they'll distract you from thinking clearly. "Which one is it?"

"Fine, no. I haven't. Happy now?" you admit, hoping the frustration in your tone would make it clear enough you're not exactly thrilled at being put under a microscope like this. 

"Really?" Her brows raise. It's not often you find Natty speechless but, here we are. She obviously thinks there's a world where you have a threesome every time you do the laundry and she's confused why that isn't the case. "Never? Guy with a cock like yours and you haven't shared it with more than one girl at a time?"

"Sorry to disappoint," you answer, rolling your eyes. You've shared a bed with Natty plenty of times over the years you've known her, and you're not exactly a stranger to each other's bodies—but still, this is not a conversation you ever expected to have over breakfast.

Natty laughs. "Don't be. But sounds like something we should fix then," she offers, casually, like her suggestion is the same as deciding what to order for dessert. 

"Yeah, I'll just find two pretty girls to sleep with at the same time, how hard can that be? Let me post an ad on the campus bulletin board. Pretty sure I'd find a line halfway to the dean's office."

"Two? I'm the first girl you'd choose and you know it," Natty remarks, smug, no trace of self-consciousness in her voice. And she's not entirely wrong. You're never admitting that out loud though. That would go straight to her head and it's already big enough as is. "We'll just have to find you the second one."

"Easy for you to say. Didn't realize you were such an expert in these matters."

"Please, if anyone is, it's me," Natty brags with a casual toss of her hair. "The hottest girl on campus with a body like this and you think I'm not being shared every chance I get? College boys can't get enough of me. Neither can the girls. Why even stop at just two, when I can just get the whole back row of chemistry class involved?"

The worst part is how plausible that actually seems. 

"Look, it's not exactly a priority for me, Nat. You're more than I can handle as is," you say, playing your best card with hopes that it’s enough of a distraction from this subject.

"Well, lucky for you, I'll do all the leg work then. Leave it all to me."

The way she says it, no hesitation whatsoever, is terrifying. Like she has a plan already formed, all that's left is execution. And you're not sure anything should ever be left to her, ever.

But a part of you has to admit—you wouldn't exactly hate sharing a bed with Natty and... someone else. Someone just as pretty, someone with a body made from pure sin who knows how to play with her, who can hold their own against her. You can't even imagine that there are too many potential candidates that would fit the bill, but you try to not get ahead of yourself, because no matter how crazy the idea seems, nothing is for sure. No need to get your hopes up, so soon.

So you finish your breakfast, with no other mention of the topic—even as her foot trails up and down your leg, a reminder that yes, you're definitely both attracted to each other and haven't done anything about it for way too fucking long.

✦ ✦

The next time you see Natty is two days later when she arrives with a laundry basket at your apartment, with some frail excuse about her machine being broken that you see through instantly. Not that you're about to complain when she starts to strip down to just a thong and a black Calvin Klein bra that barely holds in her generous tits, walking around your place half-naked like she lives here.

Which she essentially does, given how often she spends her nights in your bed.

Before her first load of laundry even finishes, you’re already leaning back against the couch, pants and boxers down to your ankles as Natty strokes your hard length. You can’t take your eyes off her tits, watching them jiggle with every movement she makes. 

The view is hypnotic enough, with this agonizingly slow rhythm her hands have as they travel along the length of your cock, and maybe you're thankful for her washer being broken down—regardless of whether or not it's actually the truth.

"You feel so built up, baby," Natty says as her hands work your shaft, thumb rubbing across the slit and spreading what leaks out along your swollen tip. "Don't you jerk off when I'm not around?"

The gentle squeeze she gives is just perfect, enough to get you groaning like you can’t get enough of her touch. "Not much point when I can just wait for you to do the job for me. What would I even watch to get off?"

"Please," she giggles as the movements of her wrist get harder to deal with. "How many pictures of my tits do you have saved on your phone? Or of me without underwear. The ones I send you when I'm so hot for you, in the library, when you're in class, with three fingers inside myself. You jerk off to them, right? Those videos of me riding a toy in my bed while I moan your name, pretending you were behind me."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't keep things like that on my phone," you say, voice cracking midway.

Natty just laughs and your cock throbs against her palm, giving you away completely. 

"You're such a bad fucking liar. Pretty sure you'd jerk off in class if I sent you nudes while you were there." Natty stares you dead in the eye and your lack of response is all the answer she needs. "There's no way you'd ever delete them. Especially not the pictures from the Halloween party, where I blew you in the bathroom. Pretty sure everyone in that house could hear when you fucked my throat."

"Jesus, Nat—fuck," you choke out, and you can still visualize that night, how ridiculously hot the maid costume looked on her, how hard it was for her to keep her phone recording while you ruined her pretty face, mascara running, lipstick smeared all over and god, you'd pay good money to see that view again.

"Do you know how hard it was not to share that video with the whole campus? How much you came in my mouth? How rough you were with me and how much of a mess I was after?"

It's not fair the way she brings up these memories while she strokes your shaft, squeezing a little tighter each time. The way Natty gets a firm grip while you mindlessly stare at those tits, so close to spilling out of her bra working overtime. This conversation alone is practically enough to get off and she knows that, using it for her advantage.

And even with how built-up you were before, this is all getting you there too fast. "I love how fucking hard you are. Throbbing so hard and ready to spill all over my big tits, aren’t you?”

"God, please—your fucking hands are magic.” 

"That's the thing though," Natty tells you, and her strokes become agonizingly slow, until the motion ceases, replaced by a firm, lingering squeeze that’s enough to drive you up the wall. "The best part of laundry day is milking your big fucking cock. Getting such a huge load out of these heavy balls, it’s such a good thing you have me, isn’t it?"

Sometimes, you wonder. 

Thankfully, her pace breaks from the rhythmic squeezing of her hand, returning to full speed with this twisted smile on her face, because you're pretty sure you were dying for a few seconds. "I haven't felt you shooting on my face in ages…"

"Too busy fucking your tight cunt or these huge goddamn tits."

"Can't really blame you for that. They must feel fucking amazing," she boasts, getting a firm grip and a nice twist of her wrist at the same time, bringing you that much closer. And this scene takes you back to the first day you gave her a ride home—when she refused to take no for an answer. A different couch, but the same position, Natty on her knees—an all-too-familiar sight by now. 

"Fuck, so good, Nat, I'm so close," you groan, feeling her pump and squeeze harder by the second, keeping the perfect rhythm and twisting just right. Exactly how you need her to and every stroke has you inching towards the edge.

"Good. Give me a nice thick, big load. I want you to shoot so fucking much all over these tits, ruin this expensive bra," Natty demands, pumping at record speed, voice edging you closer and closer until you can feel it right on the precipice, 

"Shit, god, don’t fucking stop, I'm gonna—"

One last firm pump has you throbbing hard and cum erupts from the tip with thick spurts as she aims you right between her covered breasts, smiling wide. The view of white splattering across her chest and staining the fabric of her bra makes it even better—It's one hell of a load, given how many days worth of cum she's coaxing out, spurting messily and watching as pearlescent strands cling all over her perfect tits. 

It's just absolutely fucking filthy and Natty’s never looked more delighted.

Once Natty’s gotten every drop from you, she glides a finger across her cum-covered chest, tasting it as she pops it into her mouth with a satisfied moan, sucking it clean. "Missed that so fucking much." 

And the strokes don't stop, milking the last bit of your release even after you're past the point of oversensitivity, but you hardly care when you can't tear your gaze from her chest, a canvas of white painted over her that's a perfect work of art.

"I think maybe we should have laundry day together more often…" you muse, content to bask in the lingering bliss as long as you can.

"Of course you do. When is anything with me not fun?" Natty retorts as she releases your cock and gets back on her feet, not even concerned by the fact she's wearing your cum like her favorite necklace. "I think I've got about half an hour left on the dryer. Plenty of time for you to fuck me senseless while we're waiting, don't you think?"

That’s when she saunters off without waiting for an answer, unhooking that cum-stained bra and slipping out of her underwear along the way.

Never one for subtlety.

✦ ✦

And now, you're supposed to focus on class somehow—a two-hour lecture, right after Natty had pulled you into the nearest bathroom, hopped up on the sink, legs spread and heels locked around your waist while you slid balls fucking deep into her. You can't even jot down a note without picturing her shirt ripped open, tits spilling out of her bra and bouncing freely as your hips pounded into her—or the way she guided your fingers around her throat when she came on your cock, greedy and insatiable for more. 

Honestly, you should have just taken her up on that offer to skip class altogether. Especially with your load still dripping down her thighs as she slid her panties back on, doing the bare minimum to look presentable. 

But here you are now, trying to pay attention, both of you sitting a few rows apart to avoid raising any suspicion. Like it's not obvious when Natty looks back and smiles, hair still a bit of a mess, visible marks all over her neck. Natty wears them proudly, not even daring to cover up the proof with makeup, wanting everyone to see what you'd done.

As the class drags on, your phone vibrates, and you're not even sure you want to check it, expecting more photos of her in various states of nudity. Something you always appreciate, but not exactly what you should be looking at in a public area. But still, the curiosity wins, so with a sigh, you tap at the screen, going against your better judgment to open the notification.

> Nat: wish you were still between my legs

this class sucks and you should be bending me over this desk right now

1 image attached

And that’s even more of a warning to not open it up with anyone around. 

The temptation is strong, but your common sense wins—barely, as you silence your phone and shove it back in your pocket. At least it gives something else to think about while time drags on painfully, because god knows what's waiting for you in that picture. Last time you made this mistake in public, it was more shots of in the mirror, tongue out, her tits not covered up one bit, nothing tasteful whatsoever. Who knows what you’ll get this time, but there’s a good chance it’ll be a shot of her in the middle of getting her guts rearranged, because Natty never misses a chance to document every moment of you pounding her.

Either way, you've somehow managed to last the full two hours, mind entirely somewhere else, and it's a sigh of relief when the professor finally dismisses the class. With relative ease, Natty finds you among the sea of students leaving the hall, linking arms. "Hey, handsome. Did you miss me?"

"About as much as a kick to the balls.” 

Natty scoffs. "You ass. That's what I get for sending a present?" 

"What present?" 

She shoves a hip into you and rolls her eyes, clearly unamused. "Don't tell me you didn't see. Did you seriously just ignore them?"

"Like I'd ever check while I'm still surrounded by other students. I'm sure they'd all love a peek at your nudes, but they have to find their own."

Natty's laughter cuts through. "Ungrateful bastard. Railing me in a public bathroom is fine, but you draw the line at seeing my tits. Aren't you just the innocent one?"

“My innocence is not up for debate. Even if you want to corrupt it with your naked body.” 

"Yeah, an innocent guy who just busted inside of me ten minutes before class,” Natty says as she walks beside you, pressing her body close, tits grazing your arm. 

There’s no counter to that, really. 

"I sent more than just nudes though," she admits and pauses, licking her lips before leaning into you and whispering. "Maybe you should just check. You'll like what's waiting for you." 

"Look, Nat, I know how hard it must have been, sitting there horny as fuck for the last hour, but it can wait." 

Natty scrunches her nose in frustration. "Fine. See if I send you anything again. No more tits for you," she threatens, storming off in a huff with a clear swing in her hips. It's the kind of petty tantrum she pulls when she's feeling extra needy and neglected, hoping it’ll push your buttons. But you're not one to give in the moment she throws a little fit.

"What would I ever do without the distraction? Like you could ever resist the chance to show them off in the middle of class."

"Fuck you."

"Maybe later—if you behave."

"Ugh, you're so lucky you're cute and your dick's so fucking good. Any other guy would have been on their knees groveling after ignoring nudes from me."

"Good thing you're in love with me then," you quip, smirking and only laughing when her reaction is to punch you in the arm. Not lightly either. But Natty immediately latches back onto your arm, refusing to let go when you try to shrug her off, walking beside you with this annoyed look on her face. "You're such an asshole."

"Learned from the best."

Despite the feigned anger, Natty can't help but lean in, giving you a brief peck on the cheek, staying attached to you the entire walk. She's being particularly clingy today, a rare trait for her. "So, bar tonight?" 

"Only if you're buying."

"Baby, when have I ever bought a single drink in my life?" Natty replies, tugging you down for another quick kiss. 

"Guess you'll have fun drinking alone then."

“Too bad, loser. Guess I'll have fun bringing home one of the cute boys there.” 

"Please, they'll go home broken and you’ll be unsatisfied with whoever is brave enough to come try you,” you say, and she knows that can't even be argued, that the idea of her hooking up with some stranger seems comical at best.

She knows you’re right, and that’s all it takes as Natty runs a hand through her hair and groans. "Fine, I'll buy the first round. Deal?"

"One round? Don't know if that's really enough incentive to even leave the house."

"Greedy much? I'm not made of money,” Natty says, bumping her shoulder into yours. 

"Guess I'll see you next laundry day then."

"Oh my god, fine,” Natty finally agrees. “Two rounds. And I'll suck your dick in the bathroom, is that good enough?"

"It's a start.”

✦ ✦

Turns out, drinks taste so much better when someone else is paying. Natty looks more than pleased to have your company, not even complaining about covering the tab for the first round of shots—tequila right off the bat, because she loves an excuse to lick salt off you.

"Cheers to you for actually coming out with me for once," Natty says as the burn makes its way down her throat. 

"Don't get too used to it. I'm only here for the free drinks."

"And the view," she adds, and you can't disagree as your eyes travel to her low-cut top, drowning in cleavage. This little outfit she picked was chosen to do the most damage, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

"The tits are a nice bonus, “ you agree, shamelessly staring as she reaches for another shot and throws her head back.

"Aren't they? Everyone's jealous that you've got these beauties in your face all the time," Natty points out, jutting her big tits out as she runs hands all over and gives them a squeeze, confident as ever. You can't help but laugh, endlessly amused by how much she loves showing off. "Lucky you, huh?"

"Very," you reply, grinning through the burn when you down your second shot. "No arguments there."

"One of the many benefits only you get to experience. Not everyone gets to put their mouth on these. Have their hands all over me. Or even fuck my huge ass whenever they please."

"And humble as ever, I see," you say with a laugh, shaking your head, because that ego is as big as her fucking tits. Natty gets a little handsy as the drinks set in, when the shots switch over to something less strong—something fruity, pink and sugary sweet, the kind that goes down easily as her fingers trail along your inner thighs, gradually getting a bit higher with every sip. The way she looks at you is making it pretty fucking hard to not shove her flat on the table, push that slutty little skirt up and take her where everyone can see.

But that wouldn't exactly fly, nor have you had enough alcohol to give her what she wants in front of an audience.

Before your imagination gets the best of you, Natty shifts in her seat, the movement drawing your eyes straight down when she uncrosses and recrosses her legs, this slight little peek beneath the leather skirt and the urge to fuck her into tomorrow suddenly returns with a vengeance.

"What are you thinking, right now?" you ask, glancing into those dark eyes, thick with mascara and desire.

Natty lifts the straw to her mouth and slowly takes a drink, a smirk pulling at her lips. "Just how much I'd love to suck your dick under the table."

"Jesus, Nat," you reply, knowing it's no idle threat with a woman as brazen as Natty. 

"What, did that not sound appealing to you? Me on my knees with your cock fucking my throat, you pulling on my hair like you love to. Making me gag on you until tears are running down my cheeks and you shoot so fucking far down my throat—"

"I need a stronger fucking drink," you groan, the visual leaving your head spinning. 

"What's wrong, baby? Getting a little worked up? Or is the thought of my pretty lips around your cock making your pants feel a little tight?" Natty asks as her finger traces around the rim of her glass, licking her lips for extra effect. "I did promise you a blowjob in the bathroom, didn't I? Ready to cash that in now?"

"Not a chance I'm standing up now, thanks," you mutter, hiding an awkward adjustment of your jeans that makes Natty grin wide.

"Getting a little hard already, and nothing you can do about that? Poor thing."

"Natty, stop, I swear—"

"Alright, fine. You're no fun. Guess I'll have to talk about literally anything that won't get you thinking about my tits squeezed tight around your big fucking cock."

Yeah, you definitely need another drink. Maybe two. But mercifully, Natty calms down a bit after a few sips, falling quiet for the most part while she plays with the straw between her lips. Over the course of the hour, the number of empty glasses start piling up, so many of them you start to lose track. A light flush settles on her cheeks and she can hardly keep her hands to herself, running fingers through your hair as she downs the remainder of her current drink.

"You know, this place is much better with company," Natty blurts out, words slurred just enough for you to laugh at, because you're pretty sure her tally of drinks has surpassed yours at this point.

"How nice of you to admit it."

"I wasn't talking about you, idiot. You won't even let me suck you off under the table."

You can only let out the biggest sigh, wondering why you agreed to come here in the first place. "Oh, sorry for not wanting to get kicked out of a bar and have public indecency charges added to my record."

"Wouldn't be the first time we've gotten caught," Natty laughs, eyes lit up, and of course she finds it all so funny. "Not my fault that movie was so goddamn boring. Had to give you something better to watch."

"And now we're both banned from that place forever. Thanks, Nat." 

"Oh, please, don't act like you didn't enjoy me bouncing on your dick. How was I supposed to sit through an entire movie like that? If anything they should be thanking us for putting on a better show." 

"You're ridiculous."

"I know, but that's why you spend so much time with me."

"No, it's mostly the tits."

Natty kicks you underneath the table. "Rude." 

The conversation dies for a fleeting moment before Natty leans in closer. She's clearly past tipsy by this point, giggling at nothing and that's definitely the alcohol’s doing. "As I was saying, this place is so much better with company—"

"In case you've forgotten."

"Again, not talking about you. Let me finish a fucking sentence, will you?" Natty doesn't give you time to respond, the second time she's brought this up in just a few minutes. "Not that I don't enjoy making you squirm just by talking, but we could use more company."

“What, someone who’ll let you suck them off under the table?” 

"No, dumbass,” Natty says as she looks at her phone for a second, the bright light illuminating her face. "Look at that. They'll be here soon."

You raise an eyebrow with this puzzled look on your face and take a long drink, trying not to get too terribly invested in whatever Natty is planning. "They? Who, exactly?"

"You'd know if you checked those fucking pictures I sent," she answers back with this sharp tone, looking more offended than you've ever seen her. Might as well pull out the phone from your pocket, swipe through the messages from earlier, and oh. 

There's no hesitation this time as you thumb through a series of photos sent earlier—but they're not of her this time. Whoever the girl on your screen is, it isn't Natty, but she matches the level of hotness perfectly, posing in what looks like a hotel bathroom wearing these tight little shorts with fishnet stockings, a skimpy black top exposing an alarming amount of cleavage—not quite as busty as Natty, but her tits still look divine, as does the rest of her, curves for days with a face prettier than anyone has any right to be.

"What do you think?" Natty asks, watching you practically salivate, and the more you scroll, the less clothed the woman is—standing in the same room with her shorts undone, the next with her top lifted, tits out and barely covered with her arm. She’s completely exposed when you flip to the final image, naked in the mirror, a big smile on her face like she's modeling. 

And what a body, these full hips, long slender legs, and an ass made for grabbing, squeezing, burying your face between and you’ve completely forgotten the fact that Natty's even here.

"She's—uh, pretty," is the best you can manage while still distracted, zooming in a tad closer, to study more of this mystery woman. "Who is this anyway?"

"Pretty? Is that all you can say? Don't be shy, tell me what you're actually thinking. Don't hold back on my account."

"She's really hot, Nat. What the hell am I supposed to say, giving me nudes of some stranger is the last thing I'm expecting, and—"

"There you go, better answer," Natty says with this satisfied smile like you'd finally managed to say something right. "So tell me—do you want to fuck her?"

"Wh-what?" you stutter, immediately shifting your attention back to Natty's gaze.

"Don't pretend like you didn't hear me. Do you want her? Bend her over and pound her real fucking hard into the mattress? She's into most things I am—and plenty we haven't tried." 

"What the fuck kind of question is that, Nat? Jesus—"

"A simple one," Natty replies, as if anything out of her mouth is ever simple. "Do. you. want. to. fuck. her?”

You can't tell if it's the alcohol or Natty's seductive tone turning your brain into mush, struggling to form any coherent answer. "I—uh—"

"Come on, don't play coy now. Be honest, would you or wouldn't you? I know she's your type. Don't you want to just absolutely destroy that big ass of hers?"

The room is definitely spinning at this point. There's not an easy response. So you resort to the most logical one possible in your inebriated state. "Who wouldn't?"

"Good. Then it's settled. You're fucking her. We both are. Tonight."

"I'm sorry, we? Hold on, Nat, what the fuck is—"

"What, you've never had a threesome before, and I told you I would find a pretty girl to join us. So I did."

"Join us? Hold on, you were serious about that? How did you even manage this so fast?"

"Please, did you forget who the fuck you were dealing with? She's a really good friend of mine. In town for the weekend for work and wanted to catch up—I told her we'd hit the bar and see what happens."

"I can't believe—I don't even know her name or anything. "

"But you still have the urge to tear off her clothes and just ravish her, don't you? You wanted a third, I'm bringing you one." Natty reaches out and caresses your cheek, leaning close. "Unless you don't want that anymore. Then I'll just tell her something came up and meet up with her later."

"No, it's not—of course I fucking do, but it's just sudden and all the nudes and now this and—"

"Relax, baby, I've got everything taken care of. There's nothing to be worried about. Say yes and she's yours for the night. We can fuck her until the sun comes up. And even a little bit after."

You inhale sharply, pausing, letting Natty's words sink in, trying not to sound too overly eager when you agree to this. “Y-yeah, ok, let's do it."

"You don’t sound too sure. Be a little more convincing—tell me you really want her."

Natty is grinning as you’ve become a flustered mess, not entirely sober, but unable to think about anything besides seeing this this girl bent over your sheets, whatever her name is, and just fucking her senseless. "God, I want her—need her. Need to fuck her she forgets what day it is, until the sheets are ruined and she’s soaked in sweat, exhausted and dripping cum, looking like a fucking mess and all she's able to say is my name. I want her. I want both of you.” 

There's this impressed look on Natty’s face, like she’s gotten the exact reaction she was fishing for. "Alright, tiger, was that so hard? She'll be here any minute, and trust me, you won't be disappointed."

You finish off the rest of your drink in one go, hoping to steady your nerves before this mystery girl arrives, while also trying not to overthink the decision you've made. And it doesn't take much longer when you hear the chair next to you scrape against the ground, catching a glimpse of what has to be the breathtaking girl from the photos, a seductive smile gracing her lips and oh, those eyes are going to be the death of you.

Natty turns to the newcomer with a pleased little grin. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Hey yourself, pretty girl." 

Her attention shifts from Natty towards you, getting a first glance and looking you up and down. You can’t say it’s easy to return her gaze, but you do your best—admiring this beauty come to life that Natty has managed to snatch right out of your fantasies. "This must be your little boytoy. He's cute." 

"Isn't he? Think I’m keeping this one," Natty teases, possessive in every word she speaks."Absolutely ruins me. Never fails to get the job done."

And seconds in, she's already leaving you an embarrassed, flustered wreck.

"Good choice. I'm Julie, by the way," she says, offering a friendly smile and an outstretched hand, though not hiding the seduction behind her eyes. "I've heard so much about you."

Julie takes your hand with her cold, delicate fingers, and really, she's every bit as stunning as she looked in her photos. Similar features to Natty, though a bit less reserved—a face pretty enough to invite your lingering stare, long dark hair, piercing eyes, and a smile that’s utterly irresistible. 

"Oh, don't worry. Only the good parts."

"As if there are any bad ones," Natty says, all full of confidence per usual, but it’s nice when you’re on the end of it. "Oh, he knows all about you. At least what I've shown him."

"Oh, those? Hope you liked them. There's plenty more," Julie says, like it's nothing to show nudes to a complete stranger, an intriguing mix between forward and shameless

"Don’t worry, he loved them," Natty replies, and you just sit there, in silence, too stunned to say a word. "Couldn't stop talking about how badly he wants to fuck you. Something about him wanting to bury his face between your ass and tonguefuck you for hours.  

"Jesus, fuck Nat, why would you even—" you mutter, looking away, and you think there's still time to make a run for it and never see either of these two again. Your face grows hotter, ears turning red and Julie doesn't seem bothered at all—not the slightest bit embarrassed to hear Natty lay out all your dirty thoughts right here for the world to hear.

Julie leans back a bit, arms crossed, not letting her gaze falter and grins widely. "Did he now? I would certainly love that. Sounds like so much fun."

But the girls just exchange a look and start laughing, which doesn't do any favors for how small and helpless you feel right now. And if that weren’t enough to deal with, Julie places a hand on your thigh, giving a delicate squeeze that puts you even more on edge. "Now now, there's no need to be so shy, handsome. If anything, that's a compliment. Thousands of people see those photos and think the same thing—but not everyone gets to follow up on it.” 

"Professional model," Natty adds, nodding towards Julie with a proud grin. "Don't ever let her convince you otherwise, she's been on every magazine cover imaginable."

Julie gives her own small, soft laugh, glancing in Natty's direction and dismissing her statement. "Oh, please. Not all. There might be some lingerie stores you might recognize me from. But the nudes are just a little side gig." 

"And porn. A lot of porn, mostly anal and—"

"Natty!"

"What? There's no reason to hide it, and I'm sure he doesn't mind one bit," Natty says as she leans back in her seat, and it's rather amusing to be on the other side of a conversation like this. 

"Okay, then, fine. Yes, some porn on occasion. It pays rather well because most girls are more selective, afraid of ruining their reputation or whatever. More opportunities for me."

It's still a struggle to believe a model like Julie is actually sitting across from you, let alone Natty's close friend—because surely they're both out of your league on multiple levels. 

"So, Julie," Natty says, eager to change the subject, and you're more than thankful for it, moving past that horribly awkward interaction. "Up for some shots?"

"Always," Julie replies. without hesitation. “One round, and then you can fill me in on what exactly I'm in for. Or what your boytoy has in mind, whichever comes first. Other than that tonguefuck.” 

It takes everything not to choke on the mouthful of alcohol at her boldness, the blush spreading deeper. No way she's real.

"My boytoy is buying. Whatever you want is on him," Natty says with the same enthusiasm she always carries, waving down a bartender while her lips explore around your ear, nibbling on your earlobe to deepen the red on your face. 

“What happened to free drinks?” you ask, trying not to lose it while Natty makes a show of claiming you. 

“Free drinks were over three rounds ago,” Natty says, breath right against your ear. “Don’t you think it’s your turn to treat us, babe?”

"Don't worry, handsome. I won't break you," Julie whispers, fingers roaming your thigh, further sending you into a dizzy anticipation. 

In no time flat, there's a colorful collection of shots set in front of you, downed the moment they're set down. The burn has dulled at this point, and by now you welcome it, because you don't think you could survive this night without a little more liquid courage. 

"What do you say we get out of here after these?" Natty suggests, that mischievous tone in her voice returning. "Julie's got a fancy hotel suite not too far from here, and it seems like boytoy is already getting a bit restless…”

"Can't imagine why," Julie says with a cute giggle, finishing her shot and slamming it down so hard the table shakes.

"Shall we, then?" They glance at you, expectant with hunger in their eyes, and it’s a moment that makes you feel far too much like prey being stalked, waiting for the right moment to strike. But somehow, you manage to force out a nod while your card gets swiped, leaving you to dwell in the lingering silence. 

"Lead the way,” Julie insists, sealing the deal with a wide, gummy smile, leaning in enough so you can smell her perfume, and god, what the hell did you agree to?

Side by side, they’re absolutely mesmerizing —Natty, all luscious curves and those mouthwatering tits, and Julie, sleek and slender, her endless legs stealing the show, not to mention that perfect ass her tight dress doesn't hide one bit. 

"Right behind you." Again, you have to wonder, what you’ve gotten yourself into—but there’s no time to think about it staring at these two walking ahead, unable to take your eyes off their deadly figures.

✦ ✦

The elevator ride feels longer than usual, and with both girls pressed tight into either side of you, the thoughts run rampant. Natty crashes her lips onto yours first, tongue dipping inside your mouth, running a hand through your hair. She tastes sweet, the alcohol on her breath lingering before pulling away and nipping at your lip. "Nervous?"

”Maybe a little," you mutter under your breath. 

"Don't worry, handsome," Julie says, with this reassuring laugh beside you, casually reaching out to play with a button on your shirt. "We'll take real good care of you."

You're not sure if that helps or makes things worse, but you don't have time to think before Julie pulls you closer and steals a kiss of her own. She's slow, precise—not quite rough like Natty, and a low groan escapes you as her tongue explores, keeping you pulled tight against her until the elevator dings. When she pulls away and glances toward Natty, the pair continue to give that look, one that makes you more nervous than it should when you exit. 

"Not a bad kisser," she tells Natty as she guides towards in the direction of her hotel room. 

"He's had plenty of practice. Just wait until he eats you out,” Natty says, and once again you’re flustered by how open this girl is about everything. “That mouth will fucking ruin you.” 

You feel like your cheeks are going to be permanently red at this rate. 

"Mm, I can only imagine everything that mouth can do," Julie says, but it’s hard to even focus on this conversation—impossible to think of much else besides what lies beneath that dress.

Then a beep. An open door. A handful of stumbling steps later, and two sets of heels hit the ground with a thud, followed by your own shoes as you take everything in. The suite is enormous, brightly lit and spacious with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the skyline. Impressive—expensive, no doubt,

Impressive, but expensive—no doubt about it. Likely the best room in the building with an oversized couch and bed big enough to fit three—something you’ll have no trouble taking advantage of. 

Now all that's left is to break it in.

Your jacket gets tossed on the nearest chair while the two explore the place barefoot, like they’re both planning out all the different ways this night can go. 

All of this feels surreal. Two beauties in one place that you’re about to explore every last inch of, eagerly waiting for you to make a move.

But before you do, Julie heads straight to a corner table overlooking the beautiful night sky—where an ice bucket sits, holding an expensive-looking bottle of champagne, practically an invitation to kick things off. She doesn’t even bother with glasses as she starts opening it. 

"This was here when I got here," Julie explains as the cork pops off, drinking straight from the bottle. "No sense in wasting it, right?"

She passes the bottle to Natty, who takes a hearty swig before setting it in front of you. There’s only one option—taking the biggest gulp you can, with an extra one to settle your nerves. It's sweet and fruity as the bubbles slide down your throat. 

When you hand it back to Julie, she takes an even bigger drink—but doesn't swallow it. Instead, she turns to Natty, cupping her face as their lips crash together. Their lips stay locked for a moment as Natty’s fingers weave through Julie’s hair, and there's something wildly intoxicating about two beautiful girls making out so closely in front of you.

"Tastes much better like this," Natty says against Julie, and you swear there isn't anything hotter than watching them drink right out of each other's mouths. The kiss deepens, neither one pulling away, and it doesn't seem it will stop anytime soon. 

If anything, their session grows more ravenous by the second as you just stand there and watch, taking occasional sips from the bottle.

"Come here," Natty insists with a beckoning finger, and you obey, stepping closer, until you're a fraction of an inch apart from one another. Without hesitation, the three of you come together, all tongues and saliva, tasting the sweet champagne on each other. Back and forth your head turns between the two, leaving you no less overwhelmed. Julie licks at the champagne dripping down your chin before Natty shoves her tongue deep into the crevice of your lips, getting a handful of your crotch for a squeeze.

Julie shifts to your ear, nibbles a little bit as she steals the champagne back. And then Natty lifts the hem of your shirt, peeling it off, discarding it elsewhere as Julie's lips find your chest, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses and licks, this deadly gaze glued on you as she does.

"Are you about ready to fuck our brains out yet?" Natty asks with a devilish smile as you get her dress unzipped, the thin material dropping around her feet in an instant—left in her underwear and this lace bra that does very little to contain her massive tits.

"Never been more ready," you reply with more confidence than expected, falling back on the edge of the bed with Natty following, until she's straddling on top and kissing you again. 

Julie slips out of her dress, sliding into the space beside the both of you and palms at your bulge while Natty unhooks her bra. You both watch how her breasts spilling out—as she drops her bra to the side, your hands can't help themselves, cupping her tits, kneading them softly, finding her sensitive nipples and devouring them. 

She moans loudly as you slurp, and Julie takes a long swig out of the champagne bottle before pouring it all over Natty's chest, glistening against her bare skin. You lick it off slowly, and her back arches at your touch, nails scraping against the nape of your neck, demanding more.

"You're right—this does taste better," you growl against a wet nipple when you pull off, licking up the valley between her tits, tongue cleaning up the champagne dripping over her chest. "Much better."

"So much better," Natty responds, guiding your mouth back to each of her nipples, so you can suck away whatever remains. While this happens, Julie gets started on her own clothes, removing the black lace and tossing it off to the side. Her tits are just as gorgeous—smaller, paler, but plenty of bounce, with these pretty nipples standing at attention and just waiting to be played with.

"Go on, have a taste," Natty encourages, and you don’t need any further instructions, enjoying every moan that comes out her lips when you switch over to Julie, flicking your tongue around the same way. You suck harder, sloppier, careful not to neglect Natty too badly, sneaking the occasional hand up to knead—but these two make you insatiable, switching back and forth, leaving saliva coating every last inch of flesh and lapping away like you're starved. 

"Hungry little thing, aren't you?" Julie teases as your lips graze across her breasts. You're slobbering back and forth between the girls, tugging at Julie's nipple with your teeth as she whimpers at your touch, biting down harder when moving back to Natty. 

You've never been so lucky—lips back at forth while groping the other, saliva trickling down your lips, completely lost in this buffet of tits. 

"Can you blame him? Especially when you're such a fucking feast," Natty retorts, reaching out to pinch one of Julie's nipples as you take over and get back to devouring the girl in your lap. 

"Speak for yourself, pretty girl. Those tits of yours are something else," Julie says, and when you pull away, her hands greedily grope and knead them, as if to emphasize her point. “These big, juicy tits and sensitive little nipples, god, how is he even able to pry himself away from you?"

Natty laughs as Julie continues fondling her chest. "Oh, he’s not. And don’t act like you haven't seen them before."

"It's been a while," she says as you watch her devour those pretty, swollen nipples, devouring them with this insatiable appetite while Natty throws her head back, moaning loudly. "And we weren't sharing a boytoy then."

Natty sighs softly, obviously enjoying herself, a wry smile crossing her lips. "Speaking of which—poor thing must be fucking throbbing right now. Those pants must be awfully uncomfortable."

"Then we should probably get them off," Julie suggests, as she lowers herself from the bed, unbuckling your belt when Natty scoots to give her enough space. Your zipper goes down slowly, pants removed with ease and forgotten in seconds flat, left behind with a straining erection poking through your underwear. "Wanna get more comfortable for us, handsome?"

You nod, scooting further back towards the pillows, giving plenty of room for them to join. Before climbing up, Julie discards her own panties, and slides Natty out of hers, this slow crawl from the bottom up the length of the bed that drives you fucking crazy with anticipation.

And then you've got a perfectly naked girl on each side—all sinful curves and flawless skin and this deadly glint in both their eyes. 

They don't waste any time in having you match their state of undress, two sets of slender fingers underneath the waistband of your boxers, sliding them down your legs to reveal your swollen cock—both salivating at the sight, so hard and stiff, aching for attention. 

"Knew this wouldn't be a disappointment,” Julie smiles, hand wrapping around your dick, giving a few exploratory pumps. She doesn't even bother hiding the way she admires your cock, hand twisting a little, thumb teasing your leaking slit. "The way Natty talks about you, I assumed she might be exaggerating. Glad I was wrong."

"Hope he meets your expectations.” There’s a devious tone to Natty’s voice as their lips press against the head of your cock simultaneously, planting this messy trail of kisses and lipstick down your shaft that's overwhelming as can be.

"Trust me. More than," Julie returns, lips pressed so deep into the side of your shaft before moving up to the head. Natty joins, dueling tongues teasing the underside of your tip, kissing in between each of these messy swirls that leave you throbbing for more. 

It’s already too much—two eager tongues tracing over your aching length, pushing you closer to desperation. 

A breathless gasp escapes as soft lips glide along either side of your cock, moving in sync, and fuck, you have no idea how to survive it. There’s no urgency, no rush—just slow, deliberate licks, mapping out every inch of you. Natty’s tongue drags down to your balls, so wet, so hungry, Julie following right after, mirroring her every move. They meet again near the tip, exchanging heated kisses along your cock, their frantic licks working you into a frenzy. 

"Does that feel good?" Natty purrs, dipping back down to tease your heavy balls, lapping at each one while Julie pays close attention to your leaking cockhead. "You've gone quiet on us."

"Y-yeah," you stutter, still trying to catch a steady breath, failing miserably with their tongues working you over so carefully. It's pure bliss, the feeling of them both licking the same sensitive areas, knowing exactly what to do to wring the most pleasure out of you. "Just, god, yeah. T-too good."

"Good, that’s what I like to hear," Natty says, and pulls Julie in to kiss her, trapping your cock between their lips, driving you further to the breaking point.

And it’s Julie who’s so close you can feel her hot breath radiating across your needy cock. The two swap a few more long, messy kisses, letting your shaft slide between their tongues, and then go straight back to licking, alternating between your shaft, back down to your balls, and god, watching their lips drag along your length has you ready to burst already. 

"So fucking hard—“ Julie says, this constant need to tease really doing you in. 

It’s hard to even form any response that isn’t a desperate groan as Natty's nimble fingers remain around the base, delivering these long pumps that match the movements of Julie’s tongue, and the two seem determined to absolutely unravel you. 

They’ll do that sooner, rather than later, it turns out. 

Their soft lips make a wet mess around you, drooling and slobbering their way across every inch, taking turns teasing around and across the tip while they stroke, moving as a single unit, and with a great degree of attention, so content with the noises you’re making. 

Natty goes in a different direction and places the head right between her lips, letting you drown in anticipation. The moment they close around, a guttural groan escapes your throat, and her intentions are clear—her warm, wet mouth wants to devour you all. So she inches forward, eyes never breaking contact and starts bobbing, mouth swallowing your shaft. Meanwhile, Julie watches in delight, playing with your balls, cupping their weight before lowering her mouth, suckling, tongue working over the heavy sack and licking with expert precision.

"Jesus, fuck," you mumble, with these tight fistfuls of sheets while Natty picks up the pace, a steady rhythm picking up when she descends, bringing you further, deeper inside the slick cavern of her throat. Not long after she reaches the base, burying you to the hilt—her nose flush against the tensed muscles of your abdomen. And it feels better than it ever has. 

"Can't believe you managed all that," Julie murmurs as Natty brings her head back up, your cock escaping with a wet pop. 

“It was nothing. Lots of practice." 

Natty hardly needs to catch a breath, bobbing effortlessly a few more times and your shaft vanishes into her throat each time, nose buried deep and she doesn't stop—not while Julie watches wide-eyed and amazed, keeping her lips pressed to Natty's whenever she comes up for air. 

Now it's both of them jerking you off at once, this messy mix of tongues in mouths while they pump and squeeze, never a moment where your cock isn't getting stimulation. 

"Let me try," Julie insists, giving another lick down towards your balls as the rhythm of strokes starts to slow down. Her parted lips, coated and shiny, hover over your swollen cockhead, swallowing inch by inch, a little slower than Natty. 

It's clear she's just as talented, if not more—and from this perfect wet heat of her mouth alone, you're already dizzy from pleasure. Like Natty, she's deepthroating you with ease, not even stopping for air—no signs of any struggle at all as her head bobs up and down.

"Fucking hell," you moan as Julie releases, saliva dripping from her lips, and the intensity ramps up from the moment she swallows you again, no resistance as you hit the back of her throat, eyes staring into your own. 

"Good girl, taking it all," Natty whispers in her ear, moving hair out of the way as she dives back in. "Not many can do that on the first try."

Julie can't hide the pride, flashing a smile. "Oh, you know—the whole porn thing."

There's a brief look your way, that dangerous glance that has your heart racing before Julie swallows you whole on repeat, throat contracting around every last inch.

"Really thought you'd gag at least once," Natty says, almost disappointed as she watches Julie bob eagerly up and down your throbbing length. There’s only a loud slurp in response, a thick coating of saliva forming the longer it goes. You’re in absolute heaven when your cock slides so effortlessly down her hungry throat, smothered in warmth as you resist the urge to hold her head down. 

"What can I say? I'm a professional."

Then once again it's Natty's turn, this dizzying exchange between the two women, taking turns consuming your aching cock, both eager to impress. One's sucking you hard while the other slobbers away on your balls, a little back and forth that's downright heaven. They move in tandem, these obscene noises, mouths slurping, lips smacking—drowning your cock with spit and there's nothing quite like watching them share in this messy exchange of lust.

"These delicious balls, god, so full, wanna make them empty," Julie moans as they slip from her mouth with a lewd pop. Natty gives your cock the attention you need, swallowing inch after inch, and you have no idea how much more you can take of this. She speeds up on instinct, cheeks hollowing as she bobs faster, bringing you closer and closer to that release. It's such an unreal sight, watching her suck you off like this—those tight, wet lips around your cock, so messy and greedy, while Julie doesn't disappoint either, playing with your balls so attentively. 

"I think you're almost there," Natty states, not so subtly staring as everything she does makes you groan, dick pulsating when she bottoms out on you. "Mm, god, you’re throbbing so much—must be real close. Two pretty girls on your cock like this for the first time, of course it's too much, right?” 

She's not wrong—watching them work together has you desperate, squeezing the sheets tight as they start doubling their efforts. Everything builds at an insane rate, and you can barely breathe, especially with how messy their ravenous mouths get. 

"Fuck, feels so—" you moan, and can't manage another word, the loud slurps of those eager lips getting the better of you. And they both get even more comfortable, going for the kill and maneuvering flat on their stomach, feet sticking out into the air and mouths moving frantically. 

"Let's make him cum," Natty orders, and they shower your shaft with wet, lust-driven kisses, tongues dancing all over your needy cockhead. Julie slips her lips around your tip, flicking and sucking away until it pops free and Natty resumes where she left off—over and over, passing it back and forth while their lips stay latched on, licking your shaft or suckling those heavy balls as they alternate.

Back and forth they compete over whose mouth can bring you to the edge the fastest—and fuck, you can't resist anymore, that throb, that rush coming forth, nothing more you can possibly do when both of their tongues flick so desperately against your swollen head, so persistent, so aggressive—

"Shit—f-fuck, oh my god," you gasp, clutching desperately into the sheets below, struggling to keep composure.

It happens all at once, just as their tongues slide and overlap—the first burst comes spilling out right into Julie's open mouth, spurting creamy white against her awaiting lips without warning. And yet, despite the volume—perhaps, because of it, both her and Natty manage to share in the release, every single drop landing right where intended.

The deluge of thick spurts continue to flow out, each one heavy and thick, accompanied by your desperate groans, and their mouths stay right at the tip, tongues lapping across to contain your explosive release, a creamy white painting their satisfied smiles. 

It’s seemingly endless, and it lingers on by the look they give you, a hand cupping your balls to keep you from finishing too quickly. Their lips slurp and lick up your cum as the thick spurts slow into a steady dribble, and only when they're satisfied you're properly drained does Natty lean in closer, her fair share pooled in her mouth, not intent on swallowing just yet. She grabs Julie’s face and pulls her into a fiery, passionate kiss, moaning into each other's mouths as the hot load passes from one set of lips into another, dribbling off their chins, and you've never seen anything so filthy, so messy—a perfect blend of cum and saliva mixing between the two.

"Tastes so fucking good," Julie finally says, inching away to catch her breath. "Who needs champagne when I can have this delicious load?"

"Better than any champagne," Natty replies, and wipes her lips with a grin as their lips clash again and fuck, you could watch the two of them kiss for hours, savoring the delectable aftertaste.

"So—how much more do you think your boytoy can handle?" Julie asks, looking over at you, with this loose grip on your cock that's still twitching even after that. "Still hard as fuck."

"Oh, he can go," Natty says with confidence. "Think he's ready for at least a few rounds with the two of us. Aren't you, babe?"

"D-don't you worry about me," you answer, still out of breath, glancing up at both of them with the same insatiable hunger in their eyes. "I can go all night if need be."

"Is that so?" Julie laughs, amused. "I'll hold you to it, then. Not that it would be hard to believe when you've got a thick, gorgeous cock like this."

"With you two—no doubt I can last as long as you'd like."

"That's what I like to hear, handsome," Julie replies, and she kisses the head of your cock, which makes you jerk instantly, sensitive still, though that doesn't stop her from doing it again. "Now, Natty—which one of us gets him shoved in us first?"

"That big thing ruins my insides on a daily basis—think it's only fair you get it first." 

"How generous of you. What do you think, boytoy? Think you can handle me riding you?" Julie purrs, fingers teasingly stroking the length of your shaft, the tiniest contact of pressure making you twitch. 

“Only one way to find out."

"Alright then. Gonna ride the fuck outta you, handsome," Julie says, straddling your waist as Natty moves aside, easing herself on top until she's right above your cock. Lining you up perfectly against her already wet entrance, those pussy lips glisten as she drags your cockhead through the wet folds of her slit. And she doesn't even hesitate, letting it all fill her as she sinks down, allowing every inch inside. "Ah, god, so fucking big—your cock is gonna tear me apart."

Once she's got you buried and right down to the hilt, Julie digs her nails into your chest, lifting her hips slightly and gyrating them as they lower, your dick disappearing slowly inside her. And fuck, she's so tight, so warm inside, her pussy so slick, coated heavily over the entirety of your shaft. There's so much to take in, and for a moment she pauses, needing to adjust, eyes screwed shut.

"Holy shit—how do you survive getting fucked by this every day?" Julie gasps, throwing her head back as her walls constrict around your throbbing shaft, this hungry, almost desperate clench that only intensifies as the time passes.

"You get used to it," Natty laughs, admiring the sight before her. Julie, this gorgeous woman you've known all of an hour ago, in all her beauty—naked, sitting on your cock, stretching her all the way open. "That dick in you looks so good from here."

"Feels even better, pretty girl," Julie says, and exhales, starting a slow, steady pace to warm things up. She pauses upwards, stopping at the tip before repeating her movement. Now, a little quicker, your cock slides effortlessly from the amount of dripping wet arousal, and her thighs shake the first few times, body still adjusting. 

She throws her head back with a sigh, savoring every inch, the messy wetness enveloping your shaft, and fucking hell, that grip, the heat is just insane—

Julie is all smiles as she rides, wet and wonderfully tight and clinging around your throbbing shaft, clenching so hard that you can't even process it. She sinks down with precision, her gorgeous cunt taking everything you have as she rolls those hips, letting it all fill her. 

And with your head back in the pillows, the rush of everything comes full circle, with this mesmerizing view you have, at Julie in her naked glory, an image you’ll never stop staring at. Each drop of her hips causes her breasts to bounce, although less heft than Natty, yet still, irresistible to gawk at. And those eyes, focused so intently, never faltering, full of desire—focused entirely on you and the noises that come from your lips. 

"How's that feel, boytoy?" Julie asks, moving those hips, head thrown back when she slams her full weight down. "Pretty tight, huh?"

"Fucking amazing," you answer, voice ragged, heavy panting with every movement. "Can’t believe how good it feels to be inside you."

"Not every day you get to fuck a porn star," Julie teases, impaling herself deeper, picking up momentum and biting her bottom lip when your cock hits the right spot. "This pussy usually gets stretched by Nat's huge toys—feels good having something real in me."

"Something that can cum in you?" Natty suggests, as your hands run across Julie’s toned stomach, up the curve of her waist, settling there as she fucks you, riding the entirety of your cock with every deep, full stroke.

"Yeah, that too," Julie adds, moving faster, only gasping when it hits the deepest, so deep that she just has to pause and savor the stretch.

"Hope it's everything you dreamed of, handsome," Julie says, hands playing around with your bare chest as she rides faster, bouncing steadily on your cock, the harsh collision of skin becoming louder, frantic. "Because it's so good for me, fuck—Nat, why have you been keeping him from me? "

"Because I knew you'd want him, Jules," Natty says with a laugh, watching her body, her tits, her face all distorted from the pleasure. "Didn't want you stealing my toy, did I?"

“Fair point. Because fuck, he's huge," she gasps, going faster, rocking her hips with more power and you can barely handle it. Your hands continue to grope around her fit, small frame—this quick shift, grabbing her ass when she comes crashing down. 

"God—look at how good she's taking your cock," Natty chimes in, now right behind Julie, breasts pressed into her back, running her tongue down the curve of her neck. She starts leaving open-mouthed kisses on those exposed shoulders, leaving behind trails of wet saliva as one hand teases across her perky breasts. "Just made for this, aren’t you? Perfect little slut."

"O-oh, fuck, Nat," Julie moans, falling into Natty's waiting embrace, and letting her fingers play where they please.

"Give him a good view of what he’s been dying to bury his cock in all night,” Natty demands, her hands sliding down to grab and squeeze those soft, perfect cheeks before landing a few sharp, stinging slaps. "Let boytoy see exactly what he’s gonna ruin tonight—"

There's a few moments of adjusting as the heat disappears from your cock—a sudden repositioning with Julie's legs still spread wide, but her back now to you, delicious ass waiting right there in the air. That's where your hands instinctively land, to get a nice, firm squeeze, taking in the full view of her exposed cunt. She's so drenched, dripping down the thickness of your cock—those pretty, pink lips swollen as that full ass of hers sticks higher into the air, demanding you back inside.

In an instant, Julie takes what she wants, sitting straight down onto your length that throbs with need. She gives no pause for reprieve or adjustment, with her head thrown back and immediately takes the entire thing, pussy devouring you right then and there. Her weight sinks all the way down, the grip tight and your fingertips dig into the softness of her ass as your dick splits her wide open. 

"Fuck—boytoy, you feel so good," she cries out, rolling her hips at the perfect angle, hands now reaching back, desperately finding your thighs for support.

"Come on, nice and deep," Natty says, now face-to-face with Julie as she watches the show before her, mouth agape and this clear jealousy that she isn't the center of attention. "Don't be gentle with him. He can handle it."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Julie says, and gasps when Natty starts pulling roughly at her hardened nipples, groping her breasts and encouraging her movements, as she doubles down with the force of her hips. Every part of her trembles the faster she fucks herself on your cock, this slick tightness of her pussy drowning every last inch when she takes you to the hilt. 

There's an undeniable hunger with the way Julie looks back at you, ass slamming against you as her back arches for more—giving you this sinful view of how the slick warmth of her cunt clings tight, suffocating you in the best way possible. Everything from the way her hips grind with a subtle shift in position, hitting a new spot when slamming herself down on your cock, never giving the chance to miss it when she pulls away. 

“Fuck, this feels incredible—can’t get enough,” you groan, the words tumbling out as the pleasure overwhelms you, your grip on her ass tightening, fingers sinking deeper as your mouth falls open at the way she moves her hips with ease, every thrust driving you wild. 

"Hear him, Jules? That's what your tight pussy does to him," Natty tells her, focused on the blissful expression that stays etched on her features. “Fuck yourself like that, ride him, get that dick balls fucking deep inside that pretty cunt of yours.”

Natty couldn’t be any happier watching how her best friend sinks down on your cock, fingers tugging on her swollen buds without mercy. Julie's a whimpering mess now, hips almost on automatic, slamming down repeatedly with reckless abandon. It's a desperate rhythm, no longer just wanting your cock, but craving the release, desperate for that sweet, blissful climax that follows."

"How's he feeling in you, baby? Every fucking inch making you drip all over him? Having that fucking huge cock in your pretty little cunt—he must love watching it disappear inside of you.” 

The lewder the encouragement, the more urgent her riding becomes, taking every bit of you as Julie crashes her hips down without relent. And you just let her do her thing, this seductive, irresistible woman, using your body, fucking you in ways you've never felt, tight and clinging and so goddamn wet when she bounces her perfect ass on you. 

"Natty—god, fuck, he's gonna make me cum," Julie stammers, all breathless, sweat forming along her naked body. Her nails dig in your thighs, her relentless movements consuming you, never giving a moment to catch your breath. "So good, shit, shit, holy shit—"

And Natty's right there with her, fingers slipping lower to find Julie’s clit, teasing and circling the sensitive nub with relentless precision. Despite the tremble in her thighs, they work in unison, getting the most of you. 

The slick sounds of her arousal fill the room—getting wetter the more she rides, juices running down the entire length of your shaft. "That’s it, gorgeous, let go, cream all over him. Show boytoy how good that cock feels. Ruin these fucking sheets.” 

The bed squeaks and groans beneath you, loud and unapologetic with every filthy slam of your bodies. You do your part, driving Julie closer to the edge—your hand coming down hard on her ass, the sharp smack echoing as it ripples, fingertips sinking into the fullness of her round cheeks. She lets out a strangled moan as her cunt begs for more, hips slamming down like there’s no sense of control left. “Oh fuck, I can’t, gonna—”

You grip her body tighter, fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her movements as she rides that dizzying line between pleasure and climax. Julie can't even speak coherent thoughts, not anymore, a mess of sweat, frantic moans and loud gasps when your palm strikes across each cheek, one after another, leaving a lingering redness each time. 

That’s all it takes. 

When it hits, it hits hard. Her cunt convulses, wet heat clenching around every last inch, and it's just messy the minute she cums, thighs shaking, toes curling, juices gushing all over your shaft. She's falling apart so quickly, head lulled back in sheer ecstasy, lips parted and the most obscene noises coming out. Nothing left but whimpers and desperate cries as she clings onto your body while riding this out, drenching your cock, the sheets—everywhere.

Natty doesn't let the sensations subside, though, not a chance. Instead, she continues—rubbing in a fast and careless motion, unyielding, hearing those breaths get shorter while her fingers get coated with Julie. "Another one. Come on, give yourself another one, Jules. Keep going. Look at me, keep that cock in you—that's it, one more for me."

A second surge of bliss crashes over Julie with startling ease, leaving her trembling and consumed by it all. The remnants of her first climax don’t even have time to fade before Natty draws her into another, her body surrendering completely as her cries fill the air and her eyes roll back. 

Julie’s voice trembles as she buries her face in the crook of Natty’s neck, her words spilling out a slurred mess. “Nat, p-please… I haven’t gotten off like that in ages.” Her body gives out, melting forward as her breaths come out in spurts, chasing a full one she can’t quite catch. 

“Happy to oblige.“ Natty smirks, brushing her lips against Julie’s one last time before pulling back. “Alright, gorgeous—don’t get too greedy. Let me have some fun now.”

Once Julie regains her senses, she complies with ease, pulling off your cock that’s coated with her unrelenting wetness. 

She’s only able to collapse in the sheets beside you, face flushed red, equal parts satisfied and tired, breathing so heavily as her fingers trail across the muscles of your arm. "Goddamn. Should've gotten that on camera."

"Maybe next time.” Natty isn’t hesitant as she takes over where Julie left off—throwing herself right back on your lap, thighs wrapped around either side of your hips. She glances over for a moment, before moving her lips to kiss yours, and this is no ordinary liplock—a rough, desperate exchange of tongues, saliva swapped and moans muffled between her mouth and your own.

"I need this cock to split me the fuck open," Natty says, all demand in her voice as the head of your cock drags against her greedy folds. You're already feeling the intoxicating warmth, the impossible wetness that mirrors Julie, somehow, if such a thing were possible.

She gives you a moment to savor the full view—her slender waist that you could hold on forever, toned and tight, a matching canvas to those incredible tits that you've splattered white so many times. And from below, darting your gaze down to that slick, perfect little pussy—so eager and hungry as she hovers, takes hold and lines your shaft up, then pauses for a quick breath. 

"What are you waiting for then?" Julie chimes in, perched on her side, back to life for a brief moment, just as eager and excited for the show to continue. "He's not gonna fuck himself."

"Hush," Natty fires back, and that's enough as she spreads her legs wider, guiding your throbbing cock where it belongs. One final glance before she sinks down in one fluid motion, stretching out those wet pussy lips so they can swallow every single inch like it's nothing.

All so routine for her, easing her way back up before repeating, hips lifting as her pussy squeezes every bit of your cock, a long sigh escaping her lips when your shaft fills her to the hilt.

"God, baby—that’s so fucking good," Natty groans, when she has you down, stuffed all the way inside. When her walls fully engulf your shaft, stretching wide and nothing's been more inviting, nothing more delicious as that warmth swallows you all up. She doesn’t even try to move—and that’s just as much for your benefit as it is hers as she stays still, holding you hostage, indulging in the sensation of being entirely filled. 

"Look at that pretty pussy drooling everywhere," Julie says, still not able to get a proper breath in as she watches in awe. Despite being the same girl who takes a pounding for a living, somehow, she’s mesmerized by how your cock disappears into her greedy little cunt. 

It's a quick pace from the first bounce, a fevered cadence that’s hard to handle. There’s this insatiable desire that compels Natty when she rides your cock, working every inch inside her until there’s nothing left to fill. When she rises, it’s with a gasp: a trail of slick that drives her hips, greedy for more. The bed continues to protest, but she silences it with another powerful plunge, headboard slamming up against the hotel suite wall. 

And if that wasn’t enough to deal with, those tits—it doesn't take Natty long to notice the way your gaze lands, exactly as intended, those perfect fucking tits of hers bouncing with each inch she claims.

“Boytoy really is lucky. Getting these huge fucking tits shoved in his face whenever he likes. Wonder how many times she’s made you burst all over them?” 

“Too many times to count,” Natty replies, pace never faltering. “Love seeing that look on his face when he explodes all over my chest. Don’t think he’ll ever get enough.” 

“How could anyone?” The question hangs in the air unanswered, as Natty’s rhythm becomes a challenge—a relentless slap of skin on skin that dares you to last. 

"Bet she's so fucking tight. Natty’s cunt feels like heaven, doesn't it?"

You answer with a groan, because that’s all you have in you. But that only fuels Natty—her pace turns relentless, those tits bouncing, heavy and hypnotic, and you wouldn’t dare miss a moment while she impales herself to the hilt. 

“Not sure what I want more—boytoy’s cock in me again, or those pretty tits in my mouth,” Julie says, tongue tracing your earlobe and giving a gentle nip, making your cock twitch even more. “Maybe both at the same time?” 

"Greedy little thing," Natty teases, her giggles a momentary distraction while she leans forward, giving the perfect angle so her tits bounce even more.

“Learned it all from you, pretty girl.” You're left unable to form any response as Natty keeps devouring your shaft with every bounce, all while Julie plants kisses down your bare chest, her tongue finding a nipple to tease as you revel in the pleasure.

"Oh, would you look at that? Boytoy likes it when I do this," Julie says, tongue drawing circles, flicking a few times before those lips wrap and suck, the sensitivity growing. And you're lost in the way this wet cunt squeezes tightly, the way Julie's lips tug, kissing a bit before picking back up. “Someone is a little sensitive, isn’t he? Or maybe that pussy feels a little too good." 

"Both," Natty answers with a grin, sweat now abundant down her skin, glistening from her cleavage down her tight stomach, and those powerful thighs that keep bouncing, keep that slick heat working every bit of your throbbing shaft.

It’s almost impossible to just sit back and enjoy the way her perfect cunt clenches around your cock—so greedy, so demanding you stay inside her, holding you captive with each bounce. 

Natty leans in with that wicked little smirk, like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her tits bounce, practically begging for attention, and you don’t dare ignore it. You grab them without hesitation, heavy and soft in your fingertips, and dig your fingers in, groping hard enough to pull a moan from her lips. 

"Mm, fuck yes. Play with those fucking tits, just like that,” Natty groans out, a sharp gasp as you get even greedier. Now she’s the one sensitive as you cup her tits, teasing her nipples between harsh squeezes. You can’t help but indulge in this feast, pushing her tits together so you can watch the jiggle before dragging your tongue between that delicious valley. Her hips fall into an uncontrolled, frantic pace while you bury your face into her chest, tongue swirling a sensitive nipple before pulling it between your teeth—not at all shy when you nibble, lips closing around and sucking with a lewd slurp. 

"Shit, that's it—don’t stop," she encourages, fingers threading through your hair to pull your mouth deeper. And that's all too easy to oblige, latching back and forth onto each slippery nipple like you're starved, sealing your mouth tight and sucking hard while groping the other, not leaving either without attention for too long. 

Each flick of your tongue, each greedy suck makes her clench harder, her moans dissolving into needy whimpers. Julie just watches with amusement, with fingers lazily between her legs as you worship Natty's chest, devouring her as they bounce right in your face, a constant flow of saliva connecting your lips to those swollen nipples.

 "God, look at him go—so hungry for Nat’s perfect fucking tits. Your cock must be ready to explode, must feel so fucking good in that slutty little cunt." 

She’s never been more right, because you’re barely hanging on. 

You groan through another suck, lips fixated on the heavenly weight of Natty’s tits, tongue flicking over the hardened nipple like it’s your only purpose. There’s no hope of lasting much longer, not when Natty is just as relentless as your mouth is, hips not faltering for a single bounce. The heat of her cunt, the impossible wetness, this insane grip—there’s no fighting the inevitable. 

“Boytoy—need those balls emptied in me right fucking now. Fill my tight cunt, cum inside me—pump that hot fucking load deep inside this pussy, give me everything. Every last fucking drop.”

And what else can you possibly do when she demands something like that, determined to make you blow your load in her in no time?

“Fill her, boytoy. Give her that nice, thick load, can’t wait to watch it drip out of her,” Julie says, all the encouragement you need, lips still attached to the shell of your ear, sucking and licking, blowing hot air. It’s all Natty needs too. She’s cumming hard on your cock, body shuddering, thighs trembling violently while you’ve still got her tits in your mouth, slurping away. 

She can barely keep her hips steady, fucking herself through it all, that cunt so impossibly tight. Natty is borderline begging, whining, this high-pitched sob every second your cock hits so deep, until she just breaks down completely—another violent spasm from her pussy. And there's nothing holding you back any longer, because you're right there with her, moments away from making a fucking mess right inside.

"Natty—“ 

One look and you're emptying yourself into Natty's wet cunt, flooding her with that hot, sticky warmth as your cock just unloads. Her pussy clenches hard, demanding every spurt as it swallows up all your cum, the best relief her body can provide. 

A goddamn mess, everywhere—one that paints her insides a hot, creamy white with everything she milks out, greedy for more, not leaving anything left in your aching balls. The constant throbs have no end with you buried to the hilt inside, Natty helping unload it all, groaning with every spurt while you just stare up at her.

Through this intense bliss, Julie watches every second, unable to tear her eyes away. She’s breathing equally heavy as she plays with her clit, fingers rubbing so fast and unable to stop herself from falling right behind. 

When it's all said and done, you're a mess of collapsed bodies, sheets slick and limbs tangled together. You can hear Natty struggling to catch her breath, chest heaving, her warm, sweat-slicked body draped against yours while the two of you just ride this out together, clinging onto one another.

"Jesus, can't believe how much fucking cum your balls still have," Natty finally mumbles out, body shaking through every breath, on the edge of collapsing. “Hope that felt as good as fucking a goddamn porn star." 

Julie lets out a breathless laugh, fingers teasing your chest. "Don't think anything compares to you and your fucking body, Natty."

“Don’t sell yourself short, pretty girl,” Natty tells her, too weak for anything else. With her remaining energy, she cups your face and gives one more appreciative kiss. 

The warmth of your release still lingers between her tired legs, and you can't resist getting a gentle grip on her hips, until she gets the hint to lift up enough—so you can slip all the way out. And there's nothing more satisfying than seeing your release spilling right out of her gorgeous cunt, stretched wide open, an endless stream of thick white flowing out of Natty. 

"Goddamn—what a huge mess. Boytoy really pumped all that cum in you. Gotta get me another turn on that, he’s all mine next round.” Julie isn’t asking, but demanding, not that either of you would have a problem with exactly that. 

"That's what he's here for, isn't it? I need a shower, so he's all yours," Natty says, standing on wobbly legs. 

She looks completely worn out and you can't help but stare at those curves, her wide hips, her body glistening with sweat, your cum dripping down her perfect thighs when she gingerly makes her way towards the bathroom. "Have fun." 

"Oh, we definitely will."

With the sound of water running from the bathroom, Julie is on top, kissing down your body—licking the sweat off your chest and tracing your abs with the tip of her tongue. "You better have something left for me, boytoy."

Your arousal has no end in sight, not when Julie is giving you so much attention. 

Her lips, full and supple, trail across your stomach, planting soft, lingering kisses, savoring every inch of you. She moves slow and so very methodical, like she's memorizing the way you feel under her mouth. You can’t say you don’t enjoy the tease, these light touches that build ever so slowly. 

When she reaches your hips, she pauses—just enough to let the tension rise, and then she dips lower, breath warm, a preview of more to come.  

"Hope Natty's tight little cunt didn't milk you completely fucking dry," she says, her gaze shifting between your legs. "Because I need to feel how big a load you can empty into me."

Turns out, you have much more in you. 

Not that you expected anything less with Julie’s devilish lips wrapped around your cock. Her hands grip your thighs, taking advantage of Natty’s absence to get you back to full mast, a few languid strokes that gets the blood pumping in all the right places. Then she sinks back down—deeper, nose to your crotch like she’s got something to prove.

And before you know it, you’ve got her all folded in half—legs bent at the knee and obscenely spread wide in the air as she takes every inch of you like her cunt is nothing but a mere toy.

If you’re being honest, it’s a position with her name on it. Nothing more than mindless when you fuck her, really fuck her, so goddamn deep—her body feels completely different from Natty's, but it doesn't matter when you're hammering away at that warm cunt, with this fervent need to explode once again. 

With your knees firm on the mattress and Julie’s legs lifted high, you drive into her deeper than ever, her slick heat gripping you tight—yours to take, to ruin. Every thrust buries you to the hilt, your hips slamming into her with the kind of force she craves, the kind she was made for.

She's all sweaty, legs pressed into her chest as you destroy her cunt, these loud whimpers on repeat, so eager to be defiled like her best friend, to be wrecked in this helpless position until you unload again. But there's something so satisfying about Julie begging for this, about watching this beautiful girl, legs folded, letting you hammer into that perfect, wet cunt, so fucking happy to get used.

It's this wild, almost violent rhythm with the way Julie's feet dangle in the air that lasts a lot longer than you both intended, ending only when Natty's done in the bathroom. The sound of a door swinging open doesn't make you slow down either. You're too far gone in that heavenly cunt to even care that Natty's in the room with you again, only just out of the shower, hair still wet as she saunters around the bedroom in only a towel.

"I could fucking hear you two going at it out here," Natty says, amused and jealous. It doesn't stop her from walking to your side of the bed, that towel barely concealing a damn thing as she gets a front row view of you plowing Julie into the mattress. 

"She said it was her favorite position. Couldn’t resist," you explain, moments away from bursting deep in Julie's cunt.

"One of the best," Natty replies with a knowing nod, letting her towel drop to the floor as she lies across the bed beside the two of you while you use Julie's cunt as your personal toy. 

The sight of Natty without a thing covering her, watching as you fuck Julie, like she's not even fazed by what's going on right before her—is what finally makes your dick explode inside that soaked little cunt, blowing a thick, creamy load as you empty deep, all the way into her womb as Julie moans through every burst. 

"There you go. Pump her fucking cunt with all that thick fucking cum," Natty urges, leaning in close to get a better angle as you just fuck it all deep, filling Julie to the brim. "You like that cock in you? Like when he ruins your little cunt and fills you?”

Julie doesn't reply with words, still whimpering, breathless, barely able to keep her eyes open. 

And Natty can't help but be the center of attention when Julie's exhausted on your cock—proud of the job you’ve done, how you’ve fucked her best friend to pieces. 

"Really ruined her, didn't you? Can't even form a fucking sentence. Takes a lot to make her speechless,“ Natty says with a laugh, fingers squeezing your arm as you have the unenviable task of pulling out. And even then, Julie barely even reacts, still trembling with the aftermath, the mess you've made spilling out of her. 

Natty is positioned perfectly to step in now, maneuvering between her legs while she enjoys that warm, sticky release. The taste of you and Julie mixed together creates this delicious cocktail she drinks right out of that wrecked cunt, and that’s when she starts to show signs of life. Legs spread wide as possible, she enjoys how Natty licks her clean, making her squirm as your cum drips off her tongue.

Now it’s your turn to enjoy the show as Natty takes her time eating you out of Julie's cunt—slow and hungrily, these sloppy lewd licks, familiar with every spot. And Julie just lies there, so exhausted from it all, chest heaving, taking all of this—eyes shut in ecstasy as the familiar, wet warmth of Natty's tongue slips through her folds. 

"She tastes so fucking good, especially when she's full of cum," Natty says, lifting her head for a moment to flash a grin at you. This messy blend of white and wetness smears along her face, lips glossy from eating out Julie, but she makes no effort to wipe it off, only staring up for a moment as she dives right back in between those legs.

“N-Natty—“ Julie is far too gone with the overstimulation as Natty licks far past cleaning up, lapping at her swollen clit, wringing out all the sensitivity she can. 

It’s an experience, for sure, watching the two of them. Natty between those thighs like she’s done this hundreds of times. And before you know it, Julie tenses up—legs quivering as she lets out the loudest moan, and she’s climaxing, hard, all over Natty’s gorgeous face. 

“Couldn't fucking help herself," Natty says with an innocent giggle and takes her sweet time cleaning up the gush she’s helped create, dragging her tongue to lap up all the arousal over her thighs. “Messy girl.” 

There's not a single bit of shame in her eyes as Natty slaps at her swollen, sensitive clit a few times—making Julie jolt, so overstimulated after having been eaten out like that. Julie can only whimper in response—too weak to even protest, so overwhelmed by Natty's tongue as it circles around her throbbing clit. "Fuck, Nat. You're too much."

Natty just goes back in between her thighs for one more taste before pulling Julie close, letting her gather all of your combined release on her tongue. "Aren't I? I know what you like when you don't have a cock inside you."

Julie weakly nods in agreement, sharing another deep, hungry kiss, fingers running through Natty's messy hair as they devour each other, all tongue and spit.

"You two are way too much to handle,” you murmur out, this throb between your legs rising again when they finally pull away, lust and need written all over their faces.

"Isn't that the point?" 

✦ ✦

After everything, there's a much needed shower, sharing hot water with Julie as Natty orders some room service. 

Julie's all smiles in the shower, giving you these sweet kisses as the water washes away all the sweat and sex that clings to your bodies. So easy to lose track of how long you're in there, taking your time to get clean, enjoying one another's company without a word muttered. The second you step out of the bathroom, several pizzas sit by the couch where Natty lounges in a bathrobe, already getting started on one.

"Took you guys long enough. Thought you were gonna fuck each other's brains out in there." 

“Considered it—but not without you there to watch,” Julie replies, sitting down right by Natty on the couch with a full plate. 

“How sweet.” 

Discarded clothes still lie scattered about on the floor, and Natty’s the only one dressed in anything more than a towel, just in her bathrobe, most likely put on only so the door could be answered. It's a nice respite from it all—drinking in the quiet with an overindulgence of carbs and melted cheese as you all rest up and recuperate. 

You're all sobered up at this point, mind a bit clearer now as you let this comfortable silence linger, knowing what lies soon ahead. Julie is the first one to speak up, chowing down on a slice of pizza, peeling off the cheese with her teeth as her feet rest in Natty's lap. "So handsome—enjoying having two gorgeous girls all to yourself?"

Natty giggles, stealing a pepperoni off Julie's piece, met with nothing but annoyance. "I'm sure you don't have to ask. Boytoy is in heaven, having the time of his life."

You nod, finishing a slice of pizza and grabbing another one. “Could get used to this. Not sure I'll ever be able to leave this room."

"Why would you ever want to?” Julie asks, shifting in her seat, mouth full of food. "I have the suite booked for a few more days. Two hot sluts to pound all weekend, what more do you need?" 

"Careful, Jules. Don't wanna scare him away, now."

Julie scoffs, rolling her eyes like that's the biggest concern. "I'd be heartbroken. Boytoy's cock is so fucking good, it'd be a tragedy if we never got to see him again."

You have a hard time believing you could ever get tired of something like this. Quite the opposite, the thought of only experiencing this pleasure with Natty while Julie gets left out—you're not sure you can even entertain it. 

"Don’t worry, you'll both get your fill of me. Can't get rid of me now." The second those words leave your lips, the duo are already eyeing each other up—like they both have the same thing on their mind. 

"Wouldn’t dream of it,” Julie says, with this devious look on her face like she’s dying for an excuse to get rid of the towel wrapped around her body. 

"So, boytoy—can you go again, or do we need to give you a little break?"

As much as you hate to admit it, even after that nice, relaxing shower, you're fucking spent—cock barely functional after all that nonstop use this evening. It's obvious enough too, but Julie's quick to answer. "Give the poor guy a break, Natty—I'm sure he wouldn't mind just watching the two of us go at it.” 

"Is that right? You wanna watch us, then?"

“Do I even have to answer that?” And it’s absurd to think you do, but you’re eager to get a glimpse of just how good they look when you're not in the mix. The two of them naked and wet, sweaty and all tangled up as you watch the whole thing go down—it's impossible to pass on that. 

"I think we can arrange that," Julie says, lifting her feet out of Natty's lap. She shrugs off her towel, letting it fall to the floor, then watches as Natty unties her bathrobe and lets it slide from her shoulders. Now you’ve got two beautiful, naked women in front of you, ready to have their wicked, filthy way with one another.

"I’ve missed eating your cunt, Nat,” Julie says as she pushes Natty onto the couch, watching her sprawl out underneath her.

"The feeling is mutual, pretty girl.” 

You just sit back and get comfortable while they take their time with each other now, lips pressed together in a deep kiss, bodies pressed together in an attempt to feel as much of each other’s heat as possible.

Julie starts to explore, sliding down Natty’s curvy body, kissing at that soft, sensitive skin all the way down to her full breasts. She gives them a gentle squeeze, enjoying how they feel in her palm as she slips a taut nipple into her mouth—sucking with purpose, teasing that hard little bud until Natty's moaning for more.

They've done this all before, you can sense it, the two of them so eager and comfortable, needing this more than anything. 

Julie knows this girl’s body more than her own. The way she kisses her, touches her—it’s clear this isn’t new. Her hands move with confidence, tracing every sinful curve like she’s done it a hundred times before. She isn’t exploring; she’s revisiting. She knows exactly where to lick and nibble, sucking at the places where the gasps sound the sweetest.

There's no rush at all, and yet Julie moves down the length of Natty's body at an alarming pace, as if she can't contain herself, so desperate to get in between her thighs. She pauses only a moment, pressing kisses along Natty's bare midriff before lowering herself, flat on her stomach, head positioned right where it matters. “So pretty.” 

It’s this quick tease when Natty spreads her legs as far as possible to let her right in, and Julie kisses the inside of those thick, gorgeous thighs that you’ve had the pleasure of squeezing your head enough times to lose count. 

And Natty's not so subtly guiding her closer to her aching cunt, moaning as Julie goes right to work. They've done it so many times before that there's no need for direction—Julie so completely aware of exactly how to please her with that fucking mouth, a bit of everything as her tongue glides along those soaked, sensitive lips.

Almost zero effort to suppress anything that comes out of Natty’s mouth, she can’t help herself and Julie encourages it by licking her needy cunt so wantonly, holding back nothing. There's something beautiful about watching them go at it, this need Julie has to show off how good with her mouth she is, craving the pride more than Natty. 

Julie licks so slow and methodical, tongue flat against her wet slit, pressing down and tasting all that delicious wetness, flicking through it to gather up her juices. There's no such thing as restraint here, only an urge to taste as much of Natty as possible. And it's obvious Julie loves every single moment—the taste and sound and the sight of Natty squirming underneath her tongue, this rare moment where she's the dominant one.

"Fuck—right there, right there, oh shit," Natty pleads so shamelessly, like a completely different person, not even caring how wrecked her voice comes out. She's lost all sense of composure in this moment of pure pleasure, a hand on the back of Julie's head keeping her firmly in place where her pussy needs her the most. 

You couldn’t be happier with this perfect view to watch everything, Natty all spread out as Julie devours her, lapping up everything, tongue slipping in and out so effortlessly. There’s this ache underneath your towel that you could no doubt easily relieve, slip inside Julie and pound away while she’s working her magic, but there’s something more satisfying about just watching, experiencing this moment without moving a muscle. 

“Oh god—fuck, Jules,” Natty moans, voice trembling as much as her thighs. “You’re so good at that, that tongue, shit—don’t stop.” Her fingers tangle in Julie’s hair, thighs clamping down around her head as well, gasping loud with every lick. 

“Almost like I get paid to get people off,” Julie says with a smirk and slurps on her clit, happy to make Natty fall apart so easily. 

It's hot and sloppy and messy, so lewd the noises coming from them both, as Julie pulls away for only a moment, a thick string of wetness hanging from her chin before she dives back in. "Hard to help myself when you’re this fucking delicious, Nat."

All this sweltering heat fills the room with everything that unfolds inches away, and you’re definitely not above a few strokes through your towel now, trying to ease a little bit of tension for yourself. Nothing could keep your eyes from this scene, enjoying every second, Julie sliding her fingers in and curling them so deep while her tongue continues to assault her swollen clit, pulling more moans out of her. 

The way Natty’s thighs keep Julie right where she needs her, grinding her messy cunt against her face, you’ve never seen her so desperate. These frantic licks have no plans of stopping, keeping pace, and it doesn’t take much more for the pleasure to overwhelm her, letting out all these breathy, broken moans, lips parted when Julie takes her over the edge. 

Fingers digging into Julie’s scalp, the moment Natty hits that peak is fucking gorgeous, a look of sheer pleasure on her contorted face, mouth wide open and eyes screwed shut as she screams in bliss. Her messy thighs quiver around Julie's head, and there’s no end in sight, gasping for air as she keeps lapping at juices that spill out unabated, slurping up all that wetness and you're happy to sit back and enjoy the show.

It's almost unbelievable how often Natty has gotten off today, but this is like something else entirely. A delicious high that lasts a lot longer, body in shambles, barely able to contain herself, shuddering so intensely, one spasm right after another.

"Shit, Jules—I need a minute. W-wait, fuck, I need a fucking minute," Natty says, all desperate in tone when she comes down. Yet Julie doesn’t seem exactly interested in that at all, kissing at her sensitive thighs with purpose, finding her clit again with her tongue for a few more indulgent licks.

"Not a chance, pretty girl," Julie laughs, relentless in her words, middle finger running through her slick folds. 

"Jules, please, I wasn't kidding. I'm so, fuck—sensitive, oh f-fuck," Natty can only murmur with a pitiful little whine, clutching the couch cushions and looking over at you for help.

"No, don't even try to look at boytoy like that. I'm not done with you," Julie replies. Her mouth seals tight right around her clit, sucking at it until Natty yelps in agony, unable to form proper words as she so desperately tries. It's a delicious torment, but that mouth doesn't linger there for long, pulling away.

And then she looks to see Natty looking so pathetic, face flushed with eyes almost teary, positioning herself in just the right way. Julie grabs a leg to interlock their bodies how she pleases, throwing it over her shoulder and rubbing her cunt along Natty's, not hesitating to go at a vigorous pace.

This newfound friction makes Natty lose it, still so sensitive from before, not even able to react beyond these intense shudders and frantic whimpers. It's this perfect symphony as Julie grinds her pussy right along Natty's slickness, arousal smearing and sticking to each other, messy flesh kissing with Julie leading the charge. 

"Too much, gorgeous? Yet you're not even asking me to stop," Julie chuckles, grinding without the slightest remorse, getting herself off without any real concern for Natty. All those messy fluids flow together so nicely, Julie's glistening cunt rubbing all along Natty's, pulling out every last whimper and whine that she can manage. “You’re so wet, just like me. This poor couch is going to be ruined.” 

Natty only has the strength to try and match Julie's pace, because her pride would never let her back down. 

Her clit is absolutely tormented by all the action—every time it rubs up against Julie's own little swollen bud is far too much, but she can hardly pull herself away. Because she's determined, hips moving of their own volition, sliding forward and rubbing right back with the same vigor, refusing to let Julie have all the satisfaction.

And now you definitely need to give yourself some relief, letting that towel fall and revealing just how hard you are, stroking away as you watch this pornographic display right before you, these two grinding on each other, intoxicated by desire.

"Your cunt feels so good, Nat. Almost as good as boytoy's big fucking dick," Julie says, moaning so shamelessly through the messy friction as her juices mingle with Natty's. They're fucking each other like you're not even here, writhing around without restraint, only focused on sharing an orgasm together and using each other for that ultimate result.

There's nothing for Natty to add, ignoring Julie and focusing her attention on their heated grind, the sensitivity having faded a little, now able to put her all into this. You love to watch as the tension builds between the two of them, working towards release, that heavenly image of sensitive flesh rubbing together, all the arousal smeared everywhere. 

Julie doesn't relent in the slightest, merciless with how her pussy just rides against Natty's, moans mixing together with the slick sound of wetness. Natty can only groan and grind right back, struggling not to break first, the pleasure fading from torture to divine delight, enjoying how Julie’s heat feels up against her.

"Jules—oh f-fuck, feels so good, god—“ 

You have no idea who hits the breaking point first, but all the grinding leads to one thing, gasping out at the exact same moment with simultaneous bliss. Neither girl can hold back an expression that mirrors the other, nor a mixture of arousal that gushes right out on the couch below and leaves a sticky mess all over one another.

This intense shared orgasm hits hard for Natty in particular, who hasn't had a chance to fully come down from the previous one. Her clit feels even more sensitive now, whole body practically convulsing against Julie's soaked, hot flesh. There's no end to their noises, breathlessly grinding to an end, Natty left the worst of the two, absolutely trembling, gasping to ride it out. Julie's just grinning through it, watching her quiver, content that she's the one left looking so composed and collected.

It's only when they come down together, looking spent and tired and so gorgeous with their naked bodies glistening with sweat and juices, trying to catch their breath, that Julie gives Natty a short peck on the lips. It's nice and relaxed, a sweet gesture—like they've actually forgotten they have an audience until Julie pulls back and spots you sitting there in a stupor, your hand having slowed down a while back.

"Have fun watching us, handsome? Hope you got something out of it."

“Y-yeah, think I’m good to go now. Fuck, that was just—“

“Hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” Natty says, with this weak tremble in her voice, pretending she’s not totally wiped after all that.

"I think we riled him all up. Poor thing. Maybe he needs some help, you think?" Julie asks, still a bit out of breath.

It takes no further convincing. Julie's already up and off the couch, grabbing you by the cock to lead you towards the bed, with Natty following in tow. All this attention shifts right on you, Julie behind you and Natty right in front, with hands and lips roaming across your body—

"Break time is over, boytoy. What do you wanna do to us?" Natty asks, as they both work in unison. Julie's on her knees, kissing down the small of your back, hand on your hip while she massages your balls in her free hand. On the opposite side, Natty works her fingers around your shaft, thumb rubbing a little tease along the sensitive underside of the tip.

"F-fuck... everything. I wanna do everything with you two."

"Anything specific? This big fucking dick has something special in mind. Doesn't it?" Natty chimes in, fist pumping around your aching shaft. You share a look between them, their naked bodies, those pretty faces—it's impossible to even think about choosing one.

“Don't even know who to ruin first? Can’t blame you,” Julie says as she rises, lips pressed close to your ear, breath hot on your neck. "How about you start with Nat and finish inside me, handsome?"

"Sounds perfect." 

There's a kiss from each of them on your lips, one at a time as they assemble together on the bed with eager anticipation. Julie on her back, Natty on top, breasts squished together, the two of them horizontal and entangled in a heated mess of lips and tongues. 

And part of you just wants to watch them go at it again—but your cock has other intentions. 

"Hang on, boytoy. You're forgetting something,” Julie starts, and it's a short pause that stops you from joining them on the bed, looking a little puzzled when you glance in their direction. "Lube's in my purse. The black bag on the table." 

"Lube? What for?" Natty asks with feigned innocence and a coy little smile, like she doesn't already know why.

"For your ass, obviously."

That's more than enough invitation to rummage around Julie's bag, not even shocked to see what else is stuffed inside—toys, handcuffs, a blindfold, even more fun. Without much trouble, you find what you're looking for, a bottle of clear liquid in the main pocket. And it doesn’t even feel close to full, like it's already seen some use, the curiosity driving you wild as you climb up onto the bed.

Julie's already gotten impatient, playing with Natty's tits in the meantime while she gets right in position, ready and waiting on all fours and points that perfect, round ass right in your direction. And you waste no more time as you watch this lewd display, lubing up your cock like it’s been destined to go here all along. It's just a few strokes and you're already aching to put your dick to use, ready to sink right between Natty's supple cheeks.

The anticipation builds beyond belief as you push a slick finger into her puckered hole—easing it in slowly. But it's clear she's more than ready, and a few gentle pumps is more than enough prep, because this isn't the first time Natty's taken you right here.

Countless times, you’ve gone through this routine, and she's pretty fucking used to it, as evident by the lack of resistance when your finger slips in without any sign of a struggle.

"Mm, need that fucking cock in my ass right now, boytoy. Don't keep a girl waiting." 

You wouldn’t dare dream of it. And then you're behind Natty—one hand grabbing a handful of that big ass, while the other guides your throbbing cock forward to that slick opening. You can tell Julie is watching everything so carefully, taking full note of Natty's expression as she waits to be filled. 

"Hope you're not planning on being too gentle with her. Wanna see that fat ass stretched out properly. Better fucking ruin her.” 

"As if that was ever up for debate," Natty says, that confidence turning into a soft moan when your swollen cockhead disappears between her cheeks, sinking right into her tight little asshole. "Oh fuck, that's so good—“

There's no initial resistance, that ass just consumes the entire head of your cock, swallowing it up in such an instant as you ease inside. No indication of anything but pleasure, either. Natty is a pro with this—knows how to take a dick up her ass like no other, like it's second nature to her. Not a second more wasted as you slide deeper inside this tight, slippery hole, stretching it open that much more.

"Give it to me, boytoy. I can take it—god, that big fucking dick better destroy my asshole." 

You're already sinking balls deep into Natty when she says that, both hands gripping at those sinful wide hips—holding onto her tightly as your cock stretches her out inch by inch. It's tight—it's so goddamn tight, with your cock forcing its way deeper into that snug, unyielding hole. The resistance only makes it better, every inch sliding deeper until you're buried to the base, balls flush against her cheeks. 

“Jesus, Nat,” you growl, needing a moment to catch your breath. “Your tight ass is fucking made for this. Gripping me like it never wants to let go.” 

You don’t hesitate—dragging almost all the way out before slamming back in hard enough to jolt her forward. Her ass ripples from the impact, swallowing your cock whole in one relentless plunge. 

Julie watches with a crooked smile. "You'll do anything to get that dick up your ass, won't you?" she asks, amused, already knowing the answer. But you’re barely aware of her voice, your entire focus locked on the way Natty’s ass clenches around your cock like it’s trying to keep you there forever. The way she reacts to every thrust, every brutal slam of your hips, is fucking addictive—tightening, aching for more. 

The angle is obscene—every thrust driving deep into her ass, the gape of her puckered hole increasing the faster you pump into her. The sweet noises she makes are just a bonus, encouraging you to drive even harder, those perfect cheeks bouncing off your hips with every thrust. 

Julie leans in closer, her breath brushing hot across Natty’s ear. “God, look at you. Getting used like a toy and loving every second.”

"Fuck, Nat—this ass is too fucking good. Needed this for far too long," you groan out, so in disbelief of how tight Natty's asshole feels around you. There's this heavy sigh escaping her lips, and it's hard not to notice the movement below—because she’s riding two fingers while getting her ass plowed, desperate for more pleasure.

"Harder, boytoy," Natty breathes out, glancing back at you with this demanding gaze. "Fuck my ass as hard as you can—I told you to ruin me."

You oblige without another thought, a firm, dominating grip on her hips, making sure there's no escape when you crash hard into her—demonstrating just what you're capable of, showing no mercy. There's this filthy sound on loop, flesh slapping with each deep thrust, and the sight before you is just divine, staring down at her plump ass jiggling away with your cock sunk so deep inside that hole.

“Must feel so good, pounding her ass. Can only imagine how tight she is. I’m a little jealous I’ve only fucked her with a strap.” 

“Would have loved to see that,” you say back, throbbing at the idea of Natty getting wrecked by the older girl, moaning just like she is in front of you. The thought adds fuel to the fire as you spank those full cheeks, wanting them redder than you’ve ever seen before with every aggressive pump of your hips, savoring how tight her ass gets whenever you give a good strike.

“Maybe someday you can.” 

“Hey—I know you can slap my ass harder than that,” Natty demands over her shoulder, nothing ever enough for her. That’s your cue to indulge, one harsh slap after the next that echoes with your cock hammering away, all while those cheeks turn a brighter shade of red.

She sounds so fucked out as you do what’s asked, rubbing out the sting only to make it return once more. And now there’s this beautiful sheen of sweat forming on Natty’s delicious body as you pound deep, sliding your hands up her bare back before leaning forward to capture a handful of those scrumptious tits. 

“Pretty little slut—this ass is mine,” you growl, hands sliding up to cup her bouncing tits from underneath, hungry to feel every ounce of her as you bury your cock impossibly deep.

Your hands roam her chest, palms rough against the softness of her tits as they bounce between deep thrusts. You give them a harsh slap, loving the way they jiggle under your grip. Natty lets out a sharp gasp, back arching deeper, the sound of your hips colliding with her ass turning into a perfect soundtrack you can’t get enough of. And she stays face down on Julie’s warm, naked body, ass high—presenting that tight, puckered hole like a gift. 

"Boytoy really loves tearing that asshole apart, doesn't he?” Julie asks, enjoying the view herself of how you roughly handle Natty, groping her tits and slapping them in between. “God, I can't wait to see what that cock does to me.” 

"Can't fucking help it—this tight fucking ass feels too goddamn good."

There's nothing more from Natty, not when she can hardly string thoughts into words, letting out nothing but sinful, depraved moans. It’s impossible to focus on anything but that hungry little asshole, and those pillowy cheeks that give this unforgettable view, your cock sinking between them like it belongs there. 

“He’s really fucking you, Nat. His thick cock must be tearing your poor asshole apart, can't even imagine. Boytoy looks way too eager to blow that load into you."

She’s not wrong, god she isn’t, because the sight before you is nothing short of hypnotic—the way your dick slides between Natty's plump cheeks, plowing deep into her stretched asshole, there’s never been anything better. 

"Y-yes, need you to cum, give me it—god, pump it deep in my ass," Natty pleads, and her voice sounds so strained, so broken in between your tireless thrusts. 

Not that you'd ever refuse a request like that. It’s not even fair, the things Natty says to get you to explode, gets you all riled up so you’ll fuck her like this, hips snapping back so violently while you throb inside her, every bit desperate to burst.

You can hardly control yourself anymore, hands returning to her wide hips where you belong, fingertips digging deep into that soft, sweaty flesh. Every bit drunk on lust, you pull Natty back on your cock whenever you slam every throbbing inch into her ass, no longer able to think straight while you chase this craving. 

"So fucking close, Nat—gonna fucking fill you up," you groan through clenched teeth, using every last drop of energy thrown into ravaging her. The moans that spill from her throat are a delicious treat, but those ass cheeks smacking, bouncing against your hips? That's the cherry on top. 

There's no choice in the matter, really, when you look down at the way Natty takes you. She clenches without relent, stretched to accommodate every inch while you pound her like this, tightening up beyond belief—and you can’t take another moment of it. 

“Natty—“ 

With one final, forceful thrust, you cling to those divine hips, burying deep as the bliss consumes you. And while Julie watches every moment, you let go as your cock throbs like never before, emptying everything deep inside where Natty needs it the most—right inside her warm little asshole that demands every bit of your thick seed. 

Every violent throb, every loud groan—Natty is all to blame for it as your balls empty, every spurt a new hit of pleasure. Her body claims it all with nothing to spare, milking every last drop you can give, and already it’s overflowing before your thrusts begin to wind down.

"There you go, boytoy. Empty those heavy fucking balls into this slut,” Julie says, unable to tear her gaze away, and she’s more than pleased to watch her best friend get filled to the brim. And you—you’re happy to oblige, the deep relief etched on your face while your cock spurts an endless hot, sticky mess inside.

"Fuck, so full, love all that hot cum dumped right in my ass…” Natty murmurs, sweat glistening all over her decadent body

Whether it’s the sensation of being inside Natty, or having a second pair of eyes watching—you keep emptying like there’s no end. Spurt after spurt, throb after throb, and when it finally slows, you're clinging tight to Natty's body like you’ll collapse otherwise, making a poor attempt to catch your breath. 

Julie on the other hand is quite the opposite, kissing all over Natty, lips pressing against her sweaty neck. You have just enough in you to match those same efforts as you stay hilted deep inside her ass, both showering her with kisses, both sides of Natty covered in affection.

"You're so perfect, Nat, holy fuck—you have no idea what you do to me," you groan out, planting another kiss on her lips, stealing them away for a moment from Julie.

"Think I have an idea with all this cum in my ass, boytoy."

Buried deep, you bask in this high, and there’s all the time in the world to wait for Natty’s lips, Julie far too preoccupied with them. And that’s perfectly fine, because you’re unwilling to part from her warmth, kissing everywhere else in the meantime. But somehow, when the bliss starts to dwindle, you find a way to withdraw from that insane grip, inch by inch—leaving behind a deluge of cum that gushes out of that freshly fucked hole, along Natty's thighs and onto Julie beneath.

"Really filled her up, didn’t you, boytoy? She looks fucking destroyed," Julie says with a smug little laugh, all eager to watch the aftermath. Now that you’ve separated, Natty slowly turns around to face you, giving Julie a much better view of how it all oozes out, a goddamn mess you’ve left in her keeps trickling out. 

Julie can't help but slide a finger in there, playing with your load like she’s trying her hardest to keep it dripping out of her ass. "H-hey, that’s mine, you greedy little whore," Natty replies, almost embarrassed with how she just can't seem to stop leaking your load.

"Friends share, Nat.“ 

Pushing her tongue in this time, Julie gets as deep as she can when she spreads Natty apart to get a good taste. The mess you’ve left inside is more than enough for Julie to enjoy herself, licking up whatever cum she can gather up like she’s famished, flicking her tongue in circles around that stretched opening—insatiable for more. 

"F-fuck, Jules," Natty moans, letting her best friend play with her ass, eyes closed while Julie gives your load all the attention in the world. Her tongue can’t help but bury inside so deep, earning all these shameless groans from Natty as her slick mouth goes to work, nose pressed into those squishy cheeks while she devours your cum right out of that wrecked ass. 

"Tastes as good as it looks," Julie murmurs, flashing a sinful smirk as she slides two fingers back in Natty's ass, sucking them clean with a satisfied moan—not hiding how much she likes it when she turns in your direction. “Ready to pound me next, boytoy?” 

The answer is of course, a resounding yes that you can’t quite get out while Julie keeps eating Natty’s ass, hoping to find more of your fresh load that hasn’t leaked out yet. 

"Go on, shove your tongue in her ass," Natty encourages, voice still a bit weak, almost inaudible. "Isn't that what you wanted to do when you first saw her?”

"Y-yeah, something like that.” 

"Perfect," Julie replies. "Where do you want me, handsome?”

Where don't you, really? So many options—Julie on her back, or lying face down on her stomach, maybe on her knees with that perfect ass in the air. But looking around at the bedroom, at how Natty's already on the verge of collapse, you think maybe there's a better option. The couch works, but it's not exactly what you had in mind, and the bathroom would deprive Julie of an audience, so you choose a perfect alternative. 

“Come here.“

And she listens, climbing off the bed as  she follows behind, gripping your cock in her tight fist and refusing to release. You lead her over to one of the massive windows in the spacious suite, one that overlooks the city with the second best view, the first where you’re about to bury your face. 

"This what you want, handsome? To have your way with me right here?" There’s nothing you’ve wanted more. The thought of pressing Julie’s naked body against the glass—there’s no other option. 

"More than anything."

Just like that, Julie is quick to face the window, primed to be pinned up against it. Her breasts squish against the cold glass, delicious ass raised up in full view, and already there's this smile plastered on her face as you get down on your knees without hesitation. Still, you’re not sure how you ended up in this hotel, but dead set on tongue-fucking Natty’s best friend—the last box to check to fulfill your fantasies. 

"That tongue. I want it, boytoy. I know what it does to Nat, need it in my ass—shove it in deep until you're ready to pound me," Julie says, making demands on her own with hands pressed against the glass to prop herself up, the reflection of her pretty face staring back—her ass right in your face.

But you can’t just dive right in yet, fingers tracing along the curve of those ample cheeks and just savoring how soft Julie’s skin is with these perfect cheeks that equal Natty's, maybe even rivals. 

Impossible not to stare at those deadly curves as you get both hands on each side, spreading her open—and then a long, slow lick from the back of her thigh up, until you reach her puckered little asshole. That earns you the most delicious whimper, one that you need more of as you swirl your tongue around, teasing the rim of Julie’s ass with the tip of your tongue. 

Not that you have the patience for teasing her long, a few more flicks until you bury your face in between her asscheeks, plunging your tongue in that tight hole so eagerly to slide right inside. Julie lets out a loud gasp, one that sounds so beautiful as you get in deep, taking these deliberate licks while you fuck her tight little hole with your tongue. 

"Oh shit, that's so good," Julie cries out with this pathetic moan that doesn’t hide the neediness in her voice, palms flattened against the glass. For a moment, you catch her reflection, tongue going crazy with all these desperate flicks. It’s everything you’ve craved ever since the moment you knew of Julie's existence, and now that it’s all reality, you’re not going to back down. 

“F-fuck, not even Natty is this good at eating my ass—you're going to fucking wreck me with that tongue, don’t stop.” 

As if anything in this world could get you to. You’re not intent on giving any response either other than keeping her ass spread open, giving all the access your tongue needs to get in there deep, to get those moans spilling from Julie while you continue this feast. 

Her breathing stays ragged as your probing tongue knows just what she needs, slowly drawing out every single gasp and whimper, hands digging into that pillowy flesh while you flick around with purpose, tongue-fucking this delicious ass like you’ve been craving. 

“God, Julie,” you groan as you take a brief moment to come up for air, diving right back into that tight hole all slippery with saliva. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted this.” 

She moans at the way your tongue lavishes at her puckered hole that clenches around your tongue, and you circle around before you plunge in deep, in and out at a furious rhythm. And you keep this up, keep those cheeks spread while buried deep in her asshole, pulling out as much pleasure out of Julie as you can. 

“I think I do, god, that’s so—feels so fucking good when you shove that tongue up my ass. Is this everything you wanted, boytoy?”

You don’t answer with anything but more sloppy licks, and Julie’s hands slip as they slide along the glass, desperate to push back and shove her ass in your face as much as possible. "If this is how it feels when you're eating my ass, can't wait to have your thick fucking cock in me, stretching me out..."

Julie trails off, and the next moan she chokes out sounds more broken as you can barely pull back from her between her cheeks, just needing more and more with your tongue slipping back inside. There’s not one bit of resistance while you slide your tongue back in her hole, to feel it clench tight and draw you back inside again, exploring every bit of this ass until she's fighting just to stay on her feet.

It goes without saying that Julie is in love with the way you work her like this, and your tongue thrusts back and forth like you’ll never be able to get enough, all sloppy and primal while you indulge on it, savoring every noise you tear from her mouth.

She's going to fall apart, having to close her eyes and fight like hell just not to collapse in bliss. It's a struggle to let out anything but broken words and endless gasps as your tongue fucks her, leaving her with this wicked desire to finally feel that throbbing cock fill up her perfect ass.

And when you can tell that Julie is seconds away from toppling over, that's the moment when you reluctantly pull away, dragging your tongue away with a wet little slurp—your saliva leaving her asshole glistening.

"Julie, god, this ass—" you groan, nearly out of breath from all the work your tongue has done. "That was everything I expected and more."

A desperate gasp falls from Julie's lips, unable to properly speak as her tits smash up against the glass, still propping herself up, legs spread wide and parted for easy access, waiting for whatever comes next.

"Then what the hell are you waiting for, handsome?" she mutters, struggling to get those words out. "Fuck my tight ass—pound it like it's Natty's cunt."

In a second, you're up and at attention, raring for what comes next, Julie's breath fogging up the window while you grab the one thing that’s going to help you slide right between those perfect ass cheeks. Julie's got a hand in between those thighs, slowly rubbing at her clit while you get all slicked up, stroking your cock inches away from where it’s going to feel so goddamn good. 

"Get that cock in me," Julie demands, impatient as she takes up position again, pressing her body up against the window so she can be spread open. 

It's not hard to oblige that request—you move right up against her, sandwiching your slick cock between those soft cheeks, sliding up and down as you nestle it right in there. But that's not going to last long at all, no, Julie wants you deep in her ass, and you can hardly stand not being inside her for another moment.

"Come on, boytoy," is all she says to confirm those desires, turning her head back to steal a glance, tempting you further, begging with her eyes. "Slam that dick in me, don't make me tell you twice."

So you get right behind her, bending her over and spreading her cheeks wide to align yourself. You push in without warning, hands at Julie's hips and tugging her back until that tight ring of muscle relaxes, letting the head of your cock ease its way in nice and slow.

"Oh fuck," you choke out as the rest slides right in, so easily, balls deep as her ass envelops your cock, stretching around every last inch you have to give. “Your ass feels incredible, so tight—"

Your hands get right on those curvy hips, not wasting another second, squeezing tightly when you slide out and slam right in. There's no room for caution or mercy when you have Julie bent over and ass sticking out like an invitation for your cock, nothing but a deep desire to ruin her tight little asshole.

"Shit, handsome—there you go, m-more, want you to split me open on that thick fucking dick."

Gripping hard enough to leave a bruise, you piston your hips to slide back out, pulling her onto you, that gorgeous, perfect ass rippling whenever your body collides with her. And already it's all consuming, that pleasure, the way her asshole swallows your length when you plunge forward, her voice filling the room.

You don't go slow, and don't hold back as you slap Julie's ass—this insatiable desire to make her bounce right back on your throbbing cock. 

"It's gonna take more than that to break me, boytoy. Do whatever the fuck you want—show me what you're capable of," Julie says through gasping breaths as she squeezes around you. You can hardly take how insanely tight she is as her warmth completely suffocates your whole cock while you pound inside. It's impossible not to lose control, using her wide hips to control just how deep you can go, the slap of her huge ass against your hips like music to your ears.

You're beyond feral when you dig both hands back into those perfect cheeks, spreading her open to keep this view of your cock impaling her ass going. And you keep her up against the window, pounding mercilessly into her tight little asshole without pause, again, and again, her ass just taking every thrust, welcoming the full length of your cock.

"God, this ass is too fucking good," you groan out, nearly breathless, gripping tight as her ass crashes back into you. 

“Knew you would love it. Fuck, that cock feels amazing stretching me open—tearing my greedy asshole apart," Julie says, face pressed up against the glass and your eyes glued right below, at where your shaft is buried to the hilt between those delicious cheeks, slamming balls deep every single time. Your hips give their all, pinning Julie against the massive hotel window, tits squished against the cool glass while she just lets you hammer into her ass. 

"More, boytoy, need more—pound me so hard I can't walk straight for a week." Julie knows the pleading in her voice alone is enough to set you off. And that gets you well past that point, hips moving so fast while you give her ass a series of harsh smacks on repeat, each a loud smack that competes with the sounds of hot flesh on hot flesh that fills the apartment with your balls smacking away against her dripping cunt. 

Natty is on her feet again, a hint of exhaustion still on her face. She's watching this with rapt attention, Julie being jolted against the glass while you pound into her without mercy. 

"Didn't get enough, Nat?"

Hardly anything but a nod leaves her, not wanting to interrupt, back against the window, still naked, sweaty, and wearing this curious expression as she watches the show go on. Content to just observe, her hands wander down her stomach, down in between her thighs. "Can’t a girl get a good look at her best friend getting her ass reamed? Too hot not to watch.” 

And then your focus is back on Julie, watching those gorgeous cheeks bounce with every deep thrust, savoring the way her ass squeezes your cock with a vice grip. It's a miracle you're not blowing your load already, but this is too good, not nearly ready to let this end, not with the way Julie's asshole feels wrapped around your cock.

"This is the best fucking thing I've felt in a long time," you manage to get out, not holding back the slightest when your hips meet hers, the sound of flesh echoing through the room.

"I'm glad I can be of service," Julie murmurs. "Look at that, Nat. If you're not careful, I'll steal him from you."

"Please, Jules, like I'm not getting his cock whenever the hell I want. You couldn't even imagine how he uses me. Boytoy is a fucking animal when I let him be," Natty replies, sliding the pad of her finger slowly along her swollen clit while she keeps those eyes fixated on the on the spectacle, how rough you're being with her best friend.

"Good. Because if you're wanting another go at his cock, you're gonna have to wait a bit, Nat. I'm not sharing him for a while."

There's not even an objection—Natty wants to watch too much. And when Julie lets out this breathless, desperate sound, her hands slide up and down against the glass, scrambling for something to anchor herself to. There's not a chance she's giving you up.

"God, boytoy, keep that up—you're going to fucking destroy me," Julie moans out, a slight crack in her voice, like she's about to crumble from how intense it all feels.

"Think that's the plan," Natty replies, not able to look away for a moment as her fingers continue rubbing her clit, occasionally dipping it between her soaked lips. And your palm goes crazy on those asscheeks, slapping away while you thrust your whole cock into Julie's impossibly tight asshole, savoring the way she squeezes the life out of your length. One hard slap, one deep thrust after the other, and there's no sign of slowing down anytime soon, not while you have her up against the window, fucking her like your life depends on it.

"Can't believe you get to have this dick whenever you want, Nat. He's so fucking good—don't know how you ever survive a minute without his cock in you."

"I manage," Natty replies, the faintest of smiles crossing her lips. "I spend most of my mornings riding his fucking brains out. Or his face before class, whatever the mood calls for. Gets me through at least the first couple classes."

“Please, like you even make it through science class without sneaking us to the nearest bathroom.” 

“And? Not my fault I need a little extra to get through the morning. Some people have coffee, and I get my boytoy's cum. Is that really so different?" 

Even Julie can't help but smile at how ridiculous Natty sounds when it all comes out, somehow letting out this little laugh while she's being ravaged. And even with how rough you're getting with her ass—pounding it like you'll die without it, there's still this surreal feeling of not understanding how you got here, lusting over her nudes to being actually buried in her ass.

"Gotta admit—never seen Jules have a better time," Natty says, fingers rubbing her sensitive little clit while she talks. "Girl gets paid to get her ass fucked on the daily and looks like she can barely take that cock. Maybe I should be more selfish with you. Just in case either of you get any bright ideas.” 

“Just might. You picked the right girl for this, god, this fucking ass is insane—“ 

“When have I ever steered you wrong? All these months of dropping my panties for you whenever you want, and you don't trust my judgment yet? I know what you like. Because it’s what I like. Julie is perfect for you in every single way.” 

"Okay, point taken." You'd roll your eyes if you weren't buried deep in Julie's tight asshole—her ass is as addictive and heavenly as Natty's, maybe even more. 

"Just get back to ruining her, boytoy," she says with a chuckle, already too lost in her own fingers. “And don’t leave out the spanking, she fucking loves that.” 

Not like you needed to be told to do that. But you intend on making those plump cheeks as bright red as you possibly can, each slap on her bare ass punctuating your thrusts that Julie takes so well. You don’t even bother to rub out the sting, smacking the sore flesh in the same spot, this delicious clench around your cock tightening up every single time. And you keep it up, these echoing slaps that turn Julie into more of a mess. One that really makes her snap forward before she seizes your wrist, guiding your fingers up her body until it's at her throat—begging you for this without a word.

A request like that is not something you can easily refuse either, tightening up your grip as you continue plunging right into that tight hole, her hand joining yours on her throat, squeezing it. 

"Just like that, fuck," Julie says while your pace picks up speed—to the point that it's difficult not to collapse from how insanely good you feel slamming into her. And if it was a struggle before, the combined grip your fingers have on her throat makes her asshole clamp down on your cock, squeezing like she'll never release and only begging for your load. 

You've got some fight in you still, to try to draw this out as much as possible, determined not to collapse first and ramming so mercilessly into her ass. But your first mistake is letting your eyes shift back up to where Julie is being pinned against the window by your stiff cock. That's a moment of weakness—when your cock hits even deeper, the look on her face, lips parted so all these sinful moans can escape, you nearly lose it. 

The best part is how Natty gets to witness all of it as her fingers do their magic, a rare occasion where she's not said a single thing in minutes. It's difficult not to find it all so arousing as you're deep inside, while she’s got slick fingers in her cunt at the sight of you using Julie like she’s nothing but a toy. 

"Shit, g-gonna cum," Julie gasps out, struggling to form anything more than that, and it's only seconds later her eyes flutter shut, until you feel this tremendous wetness that can’t be contained between her thighs, lips parted with a slur of obscenities unleashed. 

The clenches that follow throw you dangerously close, Julie so sensitive and needy as she rubs her clit, greedy for a second orgasm that follows as you continue to drive her up against the glass. One more look at her reflection, at how wrecked she is, then your gaze shoots to those reddened cheeks, at the pummeling they’ve taken, all stretched out around you and demanding more—you’re almost there yourself. 

It's the last burst of energy you have to make good on it, spreading those cheeks nice and wide to slam into her with whatever is left. With how crazy the pressure in your shaft builds—how that ass swallows your length to the hilt again and again, the release you need so badly is closing in, seconds away at this rate.

That's exactly why you pull out, leaving Julie's hole gaping and needy when you pull her off the glass—already so close to bursting when your hand finds her head and she's forced down on her knees. 

"W-why'd you stop?" Julie manages to get out, but that's all she has time for when you shove yourself past her lips, balls pressed against her chin.

And as good as it feels driving deep into Julie's ass, seeing her get her lips sealed around your dick, having this urge to unload, to have your thick load pouring down her throat—it's too good an opportunity to resist. 

"Needed your fucking throat to finish me off, that's why." 

Without a word of warning, you're grabbing her head, jamming her mouth further onto your cock. There's hardly any resistance—only a little sputter at how your length slips into her throat, hitting the back so you can hear the unmistakable sounds of Julie gagging and choking on it.

Fingers wrapped in that pretty hair, you force her head down your cock as you hit past the point of no return. It's the look in those devilish eyes when you hold her right there that gets you the rest of the way—how desperate and hungry she looks, staring up, your cock spasming right before you unload. 

Her mouth stays right where you need it to be, this tight seal around your shaft as you explode, eyes going wide at the sheer volume of it—hot, thick spurts shooting down her throat, some of it overflowing, the rest straight into her stomach. Your cock twitches violently the whole time, and your grip remains tight on the back of her head so she can't pull away—not that she would ever want to.

When your endless spurts start to lose steam, her lips stay wrapped tight as your climax subsides, the wet heat of her mouth overwhelming in the best ways. You hold her there for as long as you can handle it, until there’s nothing left—just the slow, steady sound of satisfaction humming through Julie’s mouth.

“God, shit—Julie, you’re amazing,” you gasp out as you stand there, trying to catch your breath. She’s still there, lips soft and tight around you, holding you through every last twitch of release. 

“Mm,” she hums again, licking her lips before she presses a deep kiss to the tip. Then she leans back just enough, tilting her head and parting her lips wide, tongue out to show you—nothing left. Every last drop swallowed. “Didn’t want to waste anything.”

"Selfish little whore," Natty chimes in, slumped against the window with a pout resting on her lips. "You weren't gonna save any cum for me? What happened to friends share?"

"Not when it tastes this good. Maybe next time," Julie replies, and the expression on Natty's face is priceless as she gets up, trying to pull her away from the glass with a kiss to no avail. 

"First of all, no, there is no 'next time'—boytoy is mine. I'm just sharing him for tonight because he's never had a threesome before and I felt bad for him."

“Oh, so I’m just a pity fuck to him?” Julie teases, rising to her feet to leave kisses down along Natty's neck. "Didn't seem so, not with the way his cock filled every single inch of my asshole. I've never had a guy use me like this."

"You literally get paid to take cocks up your ass," Natty retorts.

"That's work. This? This was a hundred times more fun. Get used to it—this is happening more frequently, pretty girl. Whether you're willing to share or not." 

"That doesn't make up for stealing my goddamn cum! Friends share, remember?"

"Was it really my fault he wanted to fuck my face until he came down my throat? That's not selfish, I call that helping out."

"Yes it is, because now he's all spent and isn't able to go again any time soon. All because you had to turn your throat into a fleshlight,” Natty groans, pausing for a moment to sulk. 

"Hey, this was all your idea in the first place. Or was I supposed to stop and ask permission before choking on his cock?” 

"Oh fuck off, you selfish slut," Natty laughs, nearly shoving Julie across the room. "Whatever, he at least likes my ass the best anyways, no matter if you're in the room or not."

"Oh really now? What do you think, boytoy? Who made your cock feel better?"

You know better than to try being part of their interrogation, staying silent. There's a slightly terrifying look in both their eyes that you'd rather avoid.

"You two are insane." 

"Insane for this fat cock," Natty says, the two of them sharing a laugh. 

“Can't argue with that, pretty girl.” Julie strokes her fingers lightly through your hair before she leans in for a kiss to silence Natty again—until it turns more ravenous, and god, your poor cock just isn't going to get a break around them. They both break away for a breath after a moment, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths that neither of them seems bothered about. 

“Don't think that you're off the hook because you slipped your tongue in my mouth. Maybe I'll just make you cum a few dozen more times for what you did," Natty says with this sweet giggle, a sudden tug on Julie's nipples that catches her off guard. And then another that follows when she tries to pull away, getting one more moan out of her, fingertips finding her wet slit as Julie squirms to get out of it. "Still wet after all of that?" 

There's little time for Julie to react when she gets pinned against the glass once more, only letting out a desperate moan—a noise that's loud enough to wake the dead. 

"W-wait, Nat—I just came," Julie protests, voice shaking while Natty's relentless fingers run through her cunt, already so oversensitive.

"Don't care. This is what you get for being such a thieving little slut." Finding all this extra wetness, Natty’s fingers slide inside and curl against her sensitive spot. There's no way she can look away, feeling all the shudders Julie tries to suppress, and the little winces of pain that leave her as the pleasure gets mixed together in the most torturous way. It's the kind of wicked revenge Natty loves dishing out. “You must be pretty sensitive after having this fucking dick ruin you, right? Maybe this teaches you to not be such a greedy whore." 

"F-fuck, you're such a fucking jealous bitch," Julie groans, trying her hardest to keep her eyes open despite how sensitive and overwhelming everything feels. Natty knows the weakest places and presses her fingers against it, thumb sliding over her clit every so often just for extra torment.

"The very worst," Natty agrees with a smirk, finding the perfect spot inside and rubbing right there without relent. And seeing how this usually confident girl becomes a quivering mess is more satisfying than you could imagine. 

"Stop, s-shit, not this much, god, please—“ Julie can do little but beg, all pathetic and hopeless, just to have Natty curl her fingers in a way that brings out something guttural from her throat. But Natty disregards every plea, every whimper and whine that gets louder with every relentless stroke.

The helpless desperation in Julie's eyes while her lips tremble only fuels Natty. A crooked little smile crosses her lips at the sound of Julie’s cries as she rolls a hardened nipple between her fingers, pinching down hard—hard enough to make Julie throw her head back, a messy line of drool leaking from her parted lips.

You're frozen to the spot where you watch, mesmerized by how ruthless Natty can get. There's no place left for Julie to escape, trapped between her and the window with the threat of another devastating orgasm her body isn't prepared for.

"God, look at you. Didn’t think I’d ever hear you beg like this. Your cunt must be so fucking sensitive. Which means—you're going to cum just as hard, maybe harder. Not a thing you can do about it either, is there? " 

Julie barely manages a response, too wrecked and overstimulated to do anything but take it. Every touch sets her nerves on fire.

“So fucking selfish,” Natty growls, pace never faltering. “Always have to be the first. First to get dicked down, first to steal the attention—pretty little slut doesn’t actually like sharing, does she? Just likes the spotlight.”

“H-hey, that’s—ah, fuck, ah—not t-true,” Julie gasps out, but it’s useless. Her body tells a different story, writhing against the glass, chasing after Natty’s touch even as she trembles from it.

That’s what gets another wicked laugh out from Natty’s lips. “Poor thing is gonna cum again. This soon?” Her fingers drive in deeper, pushing Julie to the edge whether she’s ready or not. “Thought you weren’t selfish. But looks like you’re proving me right.”

You don’t even have to be watching for what happens next, a broken sob from Julie enough to know the damage has already been done. Natty shoves her over. A sharp cry rips from her throat, her whole body locking up, muscles seizing as the bliss crashes through her. 

She can’t even hide it, can’t even muffle the cries that fall from her throat—Natty won’t let her. A firm grip tears the hand over Julie’s mouth away, forcing her moans to ring loud and proud. 

And Natty isn’t finished. Not even close.

The obscene slickness between Julie’s thighs only grows, coating Natty’s fingers as she keeps them deep, making her gush without a hint of mercy. “Fuck, look at you,” Natty murmurs, her breath hot against Julie’s ear, clearly thrilled by how helpless she’s made her. Julie’s legs tremble so violently she can barely stay upright. “So fucking selfish. You can't stop, can you? Just keep gushing all over my fingers like a needy little mess.”

Julie sobs again, but it’s lost in the wet, obscene rhythm between them—the slick sound of her cunt being worked filling the space louder than any protest she might’ve had left.

Only when she’s had her fill, does Natty finally show mercy. Fingers easing out, she lets Julie slump forward. But not without one last cruel tease—a few sharp slaps to that overstimulated clit, just to watch her flinch. Just to hear that final, wrecked little whimper.

“You fucking—” Julie hisses, barely able to breathe, and still, she can’t even pull away. Not when Natty presses down, applying the lightest, taunting pressure, just to remind her exactly who’s in control. 

"Tell me I'm right—tell me, you self-centered little whore. Tell me that's what you are, or you aren't getting a break."

"Fine! Y-you’re right," Julie chokes out, her voice all broken, thighs twitching as Natty keeps that unbearable pressure right where she knows it’ll ruin her. "I’m selfish. Selfish, greedy, whatever you can add. Proud of it, even. Now, please—"

Natty smirks, dragging her fingers through the mess she’s made, slow and deliberate before licking it clean 

"Jesus, Nat. Can you blame a girl for being addicted to boytoy’s cum? You're the one who sucked his load out of my cunt earlier and didn't share," Julie says, voice still weak, nowhere near recovered. 

"And? What's your point?” Natty fires back. “Still doesn't give you the right to bogart his cum for your filthy little throat.” 

This conversation feels a little too surreal, like you’re not even in the room. And then, suddenly—silence.

“Boytoy,” they say together, perfectly synchronized, and there’s something inherently dangerous in that.

“What was it you said earlier?” Natty muses, tilting her head with that look—you know the one. “Something about going all night if you had to?”

Batting her lashes with feigned innocence, Natty steps forward in perfect sync with Julie, both with this predatory gaze. 

“Or maybe that was just an empty promise—”

Before you can react, you're at the edge of the bed, completely vulnerable with two sets of hands pushing you down. The mattress catches your back, your head spinning, no clue what’s coming next.

“Either way…” Julie purrs, leaning over you, her breath warm against your skin. “We’re far from done with you.”

These two are going to ruin you, without a shadow of a doubt, and you'll still come crawling back for more.

—

And now, you’re exactly where they want you—pinned between them, not going anywhere.

By the time the clock reads well into the next morning, both women are finally tuckered out, fast asleep. Little reminders of the night are scattered across your skin: bruises on your chest, bite marks, lipstick stains, scratches down your back. Each worn with pride. 

Every inch of your body aches in the best way, and even the slightest shift in the sheets sends that soreness pulsing from head to toe. Not that you mind—especially with both of them curled up on either side of you, their warm bodies pressed close, using you as their personal pillow.

Julie is the first to stir, groaning as she nuzzles against you. Her dark hair is still messy and disheveled, almost hesitant to choose whether she wants to wake up or not. But when her eyes flutter open at the sight of you, she peppers a few tired kisses along your skin, her lips curling into a sleepy smile.

"Morning, handsome. Sleep well?" 

You hesitate, lost in the way she looks so beautiful in the morning. "Maybe better than I ever have."

"Me too," Julie says, grinning ear to ear, tracing lazy patterns on your chest as best she can without moving an inch away. "Had me worried for a bit. Thought we broke your cock." 

Not far from the truth, considering you ran through just about every position under the sun—Natty pinned beneath you, legs in the air; Julie’s face shoved into a pillow as you railed her ass for the second time, and then both of them side by side, moaning into the sheets and making out while you plowed them from behind.

You’ll never forget the sight of both of them hanging off the bed, upside-down, your cock plunging into their greedy throats while their perfect tits bounce between your fingertips. 

Or how you’ve lost count of how many times you made each of them gush—on your cock, your fingers, your face, soaked and shaking underneath you. Clenching tight before screaming your name, insatiable and wringing you dry like it was the only thing they knew how to do. Like they’d tear you apart just to do it all over again.

By the end, you could barely think straight—just sweat-slicked skin, the taste of their ravenous mouths, and the way they used you without pause. With your final release, you gave them everything—blasting across their faces as they knelt cheek to cheek, tongues out, makeup smeared, smiling through the mess while the night sky loomed above. Ruined, covered in you, and still starved for more.

The last thing you remember was lying flat on your back, mouth buried between their legs as they took turns riding your face—one after the other, thick thighs clamped around your head, grinding down hard until they were left gasping, trembling with nothing left to take.

"Hardly. I'm still in perfect working order, I'll have you know." 

"Poor boytoy. We really made you go all night, huh?"

Natty starts to rise on the opposite side and stretches in this obscene, unhurried way—arms overhead, back arching, shirt lifting just enough to tease a glimpse of bare skin and the curve of her breasts.

“Ngh, morning…" Natty says as she glances at you, voice hoarse as she rolls closer, draping herself over your chest like she owns it. “He’s still alive? Impressive.”

“Says the one who slept the entire morning.” 

"I was already up,—just didn't wanna move," Natty groans, wrapping her arms tighter around you to press a kiss right into your skin. "Too comfy. Boytoy did a number on me—my ass feels like it's going to be sore for a week."

Julie tries to bite back a laugh, but it slips free as she presses her face into your chest. “You did beg him to rail you like that—not his fault he delivered."

Natty huffs, rolling her eyes as she twirls a strand of your hair between her fingers. “Okay, yeah, but still—no one said he had to listen. There’s a difference between rough and demolished.”

“When has that ever been a problem? Never known you to tap out for anything. Don’t you remember—”

Natty quickly interjects, groaning. "Don’t you dare.”

But Julie has this sly smile that warns you this is already out of your hands. A masterful tease. "That first weekend I met you. And those two guys, in that hotel, the one where we almost got kicked out for being too loud. Pretty girl got spitroasted the whole night, didn’t she? Couldn't even stand once they were finished with her. And all of a sudden, boytoy is just a little too much?"

There's a momentary struggle while Natty tries to block out the memory, her hands about ready to strangle her friend as the laughter spills from Julie.

"Don't you dare let her tell you stories. Anything she says is a goddamn lie. Nothing like that ever happened."

And even when Natty goes dead quiet, Julie still has that evil little giggle, pressing light kisses along your jawline. “No? Then who was holding the camera the whole time? All the videos from that night are on my phone, let me just—”

Julie's cut off by a firm smack on her bare thigh—swift and drawing a yelp from her, and for Natty's sake, she drops the subject.

“Look, those were just two random guys I met. I was drunk, they wanted to fuck me, and I never saw them again. Boytoy is a much better option,” Natty grumbles, defeated.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl. If his dick is too much for you to take, I’ll be more than happy to take him off your hands.”

Natty lifts her head just enough to glare. “Nobody said I couldn’t handle it. I rather like having him rearrange my insides, thank you very much.”

“Oh, that’s obvious with the amount of times you swore you couldn’t go again, only to crawl back for more,” Julie teases.

“Sounds like Nat.”

Rolling her eyes is all Natty can do. “Oh, shut up. Don’t need the girl who takes twelve inches several times a day on camera to lecture me.” 

Julie scoffs and tosses a pillow at her head. “You wish you could handle him like I do.”

“Who was the one all folded up and crying after I came out of the shower after he shoved his cock back in you before you were ready?” Natty fires back, raising an eyebrow. “Could barely get a word out between those moans, babe.”

She laughs, cheeks turning red. "Not my fault boytoy loves making me cum again and again until I can barely move…"

That's when Natty drops it, more focused on kissing her way down your body. “How does breakfast sound, boytoy? Room service? That way we don’t have to get dressed?”

You nod in agreement, too exhausted to say a word.

"Why order breakfast when we've got this to feast on, right here?" Julie purrs, nipping at your shoulder as her fingers trail lower under the sheets. “Poor thing gets so hard in the morning.” 

“Can you blame him when he gets to wake up next to us?” And in typical fashion, it's Natty who joins in, both of them stroking your painful erection beneath the covers. A synchronized pair of squeezes while they both giggle at the moans you can't stop from letting out. 

"God—you really are going to break me, aren't you?"

"Only if we try hard enough. We were a bit easy on you last night, so maybe—"

You swallow hard when both their hands tease along your cock at the exact same time. If last night was easy, then there's no telling what's to come if they don't have to hold back. Not that you aren't looking forward to it. “Is she always like this? This early?”

There’s a look exchanged between them before Julie speaks again. "What, completely obsessed with cock and cum hungry all the time? That would be a yes."

Natty’s smirk deepens as she tosses the sheets aside, making sure you can see every stroke, slow, teasing, and all in perfect sync. 

You can’t help the low moan that escapes your throat, eyes locked on these two between your thighs, on the way your cock twitches in their grip. It’s almost too much already, and they’ve only gotten started. 

"Don’t pretend like you’re not also dying for a nice morning blowjob, handsome,” Julie says while you try and open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a breathy gasp the moment Natty’s thumb teases your tip.

"Hey, don't even think about trying to steal another load when I'm right here, Jules."

"I'll share this time. Promise."

Natty pauses for a second, debating whether to actually believe her friend—who's already kissing up your abdomen while she gets her fingers wrapped around your shaft. "And by share, I'm gonna assume you mean it's going right down your throat where I can't even see it?"

"I'll give you a little taste this time,” Julie says, pausing for effect while she pumps your length. ”If you behave."

"Nuh-uh, it's my turn to be selfish with boytoy," Natty says, not letting anything get in the way of her chance to indulge. Julie’s being shoved aside, and suddenly you’re at the edge of the bed, legs dangling as Natty tosses her shirt aside—full, perfect breasts bouncing when she sinks between your thighs. Her chest has your full attention, and without warning, she engulfs your cock between her soft breasts, burying you in her warm, perfect cleavage.

"Hey, no fair using your tits," Julie whines, but you can't even hear her protest with Natty's tits pressed up tight against your cock.

“You know what's not fair? Stealing all his cum. Now be a good girl and watch."

It's a demand that seems to work—Julie falls silent, and it's impossible not to look where your cock disappears between the weight of her breasts, wrapped tight around your cock, sliding up and down with this delicious friction.

“Fuck, Nat," you groan, eyes focused between her gorgeous tits that she presses tight around you, silky smooth and feeling softer than anything your cock has experienced. The sort of sensation that can put any other to shame—and Natty knows exactly what it does to you. 

"Feels so fucking good doesn't it, boytoy? My fucking tits wrapped around your cock? God, you look like you're ready to bust already." 

She's not wrong, either. The feeling of your cock trapped between her heavy breasts is almost too much—all warm and too inviting, the swollen head poking through her cleavage when she moves her chest in just the right way. Not a single thought left in your brain but pleasure, nothing but clear intent to have you spill your load right between them.

The way her tits hug your cock with every motion only makes the ache worse, and Natty just looks up at you, all proud, like she knows she’s got you under her spell. And she really does, leaning her head down, a thick line of drool spilling down between the  luscious valley to make the slide all that more heavenly.

"Those fucking tits are ridiculous," Julie groans, jealous but still enamored at the sight while you try to fight the growing heat building with every stroke. You've been through everything with these two in the last 24 hours, but Natty's tits—all bounce and sinful softness, still manage to have power all on their own the second they’re around your cock. 

But of course, Julie can’t help herself—with no concept of waiting her turn, she positions herself behind Natty, who doesn’t even realize what’s about to happen until it's too late. Julie gets a hold on those hefty tits for herself, helping them slide down your shaft and taking some semblance of control for herself.

"Hey—what do you think you’re doing, whore?" Natty gasps, caught off guard by the sudden groping as her tits are worked along your cock. She could shove Julie off—but doesn’t, letting her help guide the heavy pair over your shaft instead.

"Sharing, you spoiled little brat, like you promised to do," she purrs, squeezing Natty’s tits tighter around your cock, making sure you feel every inch of their combined efforts. The way Julie digs her fingers into that glorious flesh sends you a little deeper towards your breaking point. 

"Is that what you call it? Because it seems like you're trying to bogart my titfuck, just because you couldn't have him all to yourself," Natty responds, not bothering to try and hide the irritation, but not telling her to stop either. Julie grins, leaning her cheek against Natty's shoulder so she can get closer, forcing your member into a faster rhythm. 

“That's exactly what I'm doing," Julie admits. "Because his dick does look rather nice sliding between your big tits."

You're not even paying attention to their argument—far too busy reveling in the softness of Natty's chest, the friction you desperately need, in the confines of her cleavage. You try your damndest not to spill from just this, their fingers entwined while they work in tandem, getting your length pumping between those heaving mounds.

Natty does nothing but scrunch up her face in annoyance, pouty and upset that her alone time has been interrupted. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're a little jealous." 

Julie keeps smiling, unfazed—maybe a little too much as she continues to use her friend's breasts with not a care in the world, not even realizing how she's pushing you further, your balls feeling heavy and so fucking ready to erupt.

"Maybe a little. How could I not be? Of both these tits and boytoy’s amazing cock that gets to fuck them whenever he wants. Can't even imagine getting to wake up and devour these every morning."

"They are pretty incredible," Natty says, batting her lashes as her tits jiggle, still cradling your aching cock and keeping the heavenly friction constant—no escape in sight. "Not sure who's more lucky, boytoy or me."

You may never know the answer to that. 

All you know is there's no doubt in your mind that this is the best way to experience the true glory of these tits—and the more you stare, the less control you have, the pressure rising between your legs all the more. The groans that leave your throat get a little louder, a little more desperate as these two work to get you off, not easing up at all as they both crave your release.

"God, Nat, your tits really are unbelievable," Julie moans, getting this perfect handful with both hands as she assists, refusing to let the pace slack even a little. She can't get enough of the way they bounce between her fingers—how her touch gets the soft, plump flesh to smother the whole length of your cock. "They're making his dick leak so fucking much already."

"Can you even imagine how much he's going to cum all over them?" Natty adds, almost taunting. "Gonna make a mess, aren't you, boytoy?"

Your hips buck on impulse, not a shred of patience left when she asks that question, and it's not long until the ache of holding back is just too much. Natty stares, this knowing look when she senses the inevitable. You're so, so goddamn close now, needing little more than a few more pumps, these hungry gazes and wicked smiles only pushing you that much closer.

"Almost there, f-fuck—" you manage to blurt out, every pump between those luscious tits somehow more devastating than the last, each one feeling like it could finish you off.

“Cum, boytoy—do it," Julie encourages. “Show us how much of a fucking mess your huge load will make of these perfect tits.”

Natty does little but smile, glancing down to where your cock juts out of her cleavage, throbbing desperately under all this pillowy softness. And all that's needed is another firm squeeze of their hands, those tits smothering you tight to send you straight over the edge.

The eruption follows only moments later, hot, thick spurts of sticky white that makes their eyes go wide at the forceful blast that sprays up Natty's cleavage. It’s endless—shot after shot spilling over those gorgeous tits, painting them like the most sinful canvas imaginable. Your cum spills into the deep valley of her tits, streaking her neck and even hitting her chin, marking her in the most depraved way, just like these two greedy girls wanted. You’ve never seen anything more perfect. 

"Look at all that—there's so much fucking cum," Natty marvels, her heavy breathing causing those hefty tits to rise and fall as Julie lets them free, letting her finish the job, eager to milk out what last final drops she can from you. A few more languid strokes between her cum-streaked breasts and they squeeze around you one last time, drawing out the final dribble before your cock slips free, still twitching from just the sight of that delicious cleavage coated in pearly white. 

It isn't much of a surprise when Julie is the first to taste it, a long lick along Natty's neck, helping her clean up every bit she can get off her. Her tongue drags along her voluminous chest before sealing her mouth around a nipple, savoring the taste on her tongue with a moan.

"Natty looks so pretty covered in boytoy's thick load," Julie murmurs when she comes up for air, lips glossy with spit and cum as she gives one last lingering lick where your load still clings to her glistening tits. “Almost too good to clean up.” 

Natty can hardly disagree, watching her friend dive back into the mess with the voracious appetite that can only be expected—from someone just as obsessed with your cum as she is.

The display leaves you speechless, only able to stare—cock still twitching, spent, yet desperate to bury yourself between the luscious pair all over again.

Julie isn’t done by a long shot, licking up a thick streak of cum from the curve of Natty’s breast, her tongue slow and deliberate as she collects every drop. But instead of swallowing, she lifts Natty’s chin, lips parting to share it in a messy, heated kiss—swapping the load between their tongues, both moaning like they can’t get enough of the taste and each other. 

And if you weren’t still throbbing from such a satisfying release, you certainly are now—watching them swap your load back and forth, savoring it like some sweet delicacy. Insatiable and shameless, they kiss and moan through every messy moment, tongues tangled and lips glistening, the sight alone nearly has you ready to go again.

They eventually part, a thin string of spit and cum still connecting their tongues, both breathless as they steal their share of the mess, licking lips and lost in their own hunger. 

Before you can even recover, Natty’s already sinking back down between your legs, wrapping her lips around your cock with a satisfied hum, like she’s missed the taste of you already. Julie isn’t going to stay idle, and her hands slide up to grope Natty’s still-slick breasts, fingers digging in possessively as she leans close, watching every inch disappear into that heavenly mouth.

“Look at you,” Julie purrs, her breath hot against Natty’s neck as she toys with a glistening nipple between her fingers. “Didn’t even give poor boytoy a break. You really want to break him, huh?”

“Nothing he can’t handle.”

 Your breath hitches, strained and shaky to prove otherwise as Natty sucks harder, tongue swirling with maddening precision, until she suddenly pulls off with a wet pop, your cock glistening and twitching in the cool air. She presses a soft, lingering kiss to your sensitive tip, gaze locked on yours to drink in your reaction while her hand keeps stroking slowly, drawing out every last twitch of overstimulation. It’s too much—but yet you don’t want it to stop. Not now. Not ever.

And just like that, Julie’s lips are right back on Natty’s tits, kissing and sucking like she’s been starved for them, tongue flicking over each nipple, and insatiable can’t even begin to describe it. 

“Nothing like a good breakfast,” Julie hums against Natty’s flesh, too focused on suckling at her tits to say anything else, lips sealed tight as if she can find any more of your seed and relish that taste. 

"You two really are fucking addicted to my tits, aren't you?" Natty laughs breathlessly, enjoying the attention with one hand in Julie’s hair while the other lazily strokes your still-throbbing cock.

Julie pulls off with a lewd pop before grinning up at her. “Can you blame us, Nat?” she breathes, eyes half-lidded with lust as she squeezes one of those heavy breasts. “They’re perfect, pretty girl. Who the fuck could ever resist these?”

And there's nothing for Natty to say, after all—the evidence speaks for itself. Julie’s already latched back onto her tit like she’s tasting heaven, lips sealed over Natty’s swollen nipple, slow and wet. Her free hand kneads the other breast, pulling it closer as if she’s determined to worship every inch. And you’ve got the perfect fucking view of it all.

—-

What feels like hours later, the three of you finally make it to a much-needed shower—the hot water feeling so good on your bodies. There’s a mess of limbs underneath the calming water, and despite the fatigue, and a plethora of smiles and giggles to go around. Kisses are shared without urgency, without need, the soft press of lips against damp skin while hands roam around lazily, more interested in sharing affection than stoking desire. 

It’s a well-earned moment of relaxation that lingers when the water gets turned off and towels hit the floor—just in time for coffee, and maybe some actual breakfast, if these two can keep their hands to themselves long enough to order room service.

But when there’s a knock on the door for exactly that, Julie’s the one who answers the door, striding over in nothing but a tiny pair of red panties and a snug white crop top that barely covers her tits—nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric. 

“He recognized me,” Julie says with a smug grin as she saunters back inside, swinging the door shut behind her with her hip. She sets the tray down on the bar like nothing happened, unable to hide her amusement. “Could barely keep his eyes off my tits. Poor guy almost dropped the food.”

Natty arches a brow, crossing her arms under her own chest as she sits back against the headboard, legs stretched out and a lazy grin playing on her lips—completely naked, not bothering to throw on a single piece of clothing. “Recognized you from what, exactly?” she teases, though there’s already a knowing look in her eyes.

“Oh, you know, he’s a fan,” Julie replies with a wink, plopping down beside Natty on the bed, clearly having no intention of covering up. Her fingers toy idly with the hem of her shirt, as if daring it to ride up even further. “Pretty sure he’ll be jerking off to the memory for weeks.”

"That ass is pretty famous," Natty replies, eyes trailing over Julie’s barely covered curves with shameless appreciation. 

Julie just laughs, stretching lazily, her toned stomach flexing as she raises her arms over her head. The motion makes her crop top ride up even more, exposing just a hint of her bare breasts, but she makes no move to fix it. Instead, she smirks, turning onto her side to face Natty. "Can’t blame him. I'd stare too."

And god knows you are, helpless to resist as you sit back and stare at both of their bodies, knowing fully well they want you to.

You make it through coffee and breakfast, which in actuality is really brunch given the time—something quick, light, and enough to satisfy your hunger. It's a quiet moment that passes while little gets said, the three of you eating on the freshly-changed sheets with little sips of bitter coffee to help wash it down. 

You should have known it wouldn’t be nearly this peaceful.

Julie wastes little time once plates and cups are thrown away, setting the empty tray outside. Coming back in, you're not given a chance to put your phone down before she's bent over and between your legs, boxers pulled off and tossed somewhere in the room.

Little you can do but enjoy this position she's put you in, legs spread while she bobs her head so greedily down your length—lips far down the base with her cheeks hollowed out and her gaze staring straight at yours. Natty's right there too, kneeling beside Julie with that little thong of hers that shows off how good her ass looks as she gives all the spanks deserved, mostly kneading at both cheeks, playing with the soft flesh that feels so good to squeeze.

"Hey, Natty?" Julie asks after she pops off, lifting her head up as she takes a long drag up your cock. "I think I quite like our boytoy."

"Our? What makes him yours all of a sudden?" Natty asks, continuing her massage of that full ass and bringing a slap down against the velvety flesh of her cheeks that makes you jolt up into Julie's mouth. 

"Well, for starters, he loves when I do this," she responds, flashing that cheeky grin as she swallows you to the base yet again, tongue rubbing against that throbbing underside of your shaft as it's shoved down without restraint. 

"You're not keeping him for yourself. Find your own, you greedy little slut." And Natty sounds so fucking offended, with another swat echoing in the air alongside Julie's moan around your cock. You can't tell what's better.

"I'll share—" is all Julie has to offer before Natty cuts her off with another harsh blow to her ass, one that makes her cry out loudly around you.

"Heard that before. I'll let you have him whenever you're around, but that's it—if you're lucky you can use his dick every other weekend." 

"What am I, a library book you can loan to each other or something?"

"Exactly!" The two speak together in perfect sync. Another loud, wet pop, a tongue dragging along the swollen head of your cock as Julie locks that eye contact, swallowing you back down. 

“Have to admit, Jules—you look real good sucking his dick,” Natty sighs. Her hands sink back down to Julie's full ass, squeezing possessively as she gets her fingertips in nice and deep. Your hips buck helplessly, almost on autopilot at the sensations.

Julie finally manages to break off just to respond, but not without leaving several sloppy kisses and needy licks across the head of your cock, lips pressed flush against the glistening shaft as she continues to work.

"What can I say? I'm a professional," she answers, lips latched on your balls as she jerks your throbbing shaft. "Can't help myself. He tastes fucking delicious." 

"That's great and all, but still not sharing. This weekend's been fun but come Monday, it's back to normal."

"And if I just so happen to want him when you're stuck in class, Nat? What are you gonna do then?" Julie teases, dragging a few more lingering licks up your length that drive you crazy. "When you're in chem class and I'm on my knees, with him blasting a huge fucking load all over my pretty face? What if you're too busy to stop me?"

You're only caught up on the visuals Julie's trying to create. Imagining her like this on her knees and begging to be covered, smiling, tongue out while Natty is stuck learning about chemical reactions.

Natty knows Julie can't be tamed, no matter what.

"Then you better do a good job of emptying his balls when I'm not around, whore. Got it?"

"Jesus, do you two ever shut up, for like two seconds? Maybe I'll ask the front desk if there's anyone in need of a fuck, someone a little less high maintenance." The look on Natty's face says all that's needed—and yet she can't come up with a retort either, and not with her best friend grinning up at her with your cock still pressed right against her cheek. 

"As if you could ever find anyone else as hot as us," Natty says with the confidence you would expect. "With a big, thick cock that keeps us satisfied the way we deserve to be."

You roll your eyes as she speaks, Julie already going back down as if on cue, lips wrapped around you, eager for more. "Nat's huge tits and my fat ass, we make the perfect team. Face it, boytoy. You're stuck with us."

That's when Julie gets a bit too greedy, inhaling every inch until her lips can't take any more. Her way of convincing you , perhaps, and you can't say it isn't effective with the way she sucks harder—like she's not going to pull off until you're ready to agree. 

Stuck with the two most gorgeous, insatiable women possible hardly sounds like a terrible fate. Most of your time gets spent balls deep inside Natty the majority of the time regardless—and now when she's not riding the fuck out of you, there’s Julie to enjoy in the meantime.

You couldn’t ask for a better deal. 

[zshiftsrealities]

MANIFESTATION, AND IT'S CORE

this isn't a FUCKING joke. all of this isn't some big lie just so people can mess with you.

it's not "too good to be true", it's not "one day I will", it's not "can I?", it's not it's not it's not. it's REAL, it's LITERAL, it's YOURS.

it's different names for the SAME FUCKING THING. IT'S ALL THE SAME. one's not harder than the other, one's not easier than the other. it's the EXACT same.

lucid dreaming is the same as shifting which is same as manifesting which is same as the void. it's all the same. THE ESSENCE OF IT IS ALL THE SAME.

and the FACT is that it's all yours. NO, you don't have the "power to do it" because YOU DON'T NEED THAT BULLSHIT. it's YOURS.

there's no "specific time", "special day", "the one moment", "the one word" that'll make you shift/everything else. there's no nothing. there's nothing that you'll find that'll "make you" shift. there's no secret formula, secret recipe, "oh, maybe I'm doing this wrong", "wait, maybe if I do this", "maybe if I try that". there's just you, and everything that's already yours. SO OWN UP TO IT. SAY IT WITH YOUR DAMN CHEST THAT IT'S YOURS. SAY IT SO LOUD THAT EVEN SOMEONE IN THE DEPTHS OF HELL AND IN THE HEIGHTS OF HEAVEN HEIGHTS CAN HEAR THAT IT'S YOURS. say it with such a sense of entitlement that GOD HIMSELF hears you, sees you, and acknowledges you.

IT'S YOURS, IT'S YOURS, IT'S YOURS. say it until you feel sick of it. say it until your brain's fried. say it until you're out of it. say it UNTIL YOU CAN MEAN IT when you say IT'S YOURS.

one assumption, one assumption is all it takes. one sentence that you don't question. hell, question it even. doesn't matter. even so, one assumption is what it takes to be the you who has it all. the assumption that you ARE the you who has it all.

don't even believe. don't. don't even think twice. don't bother at all. don't do nothing. you don't NEED to do nothing. because you already are the you who has what you want.

what you desire was already yours before it was even put in your heart. it has been yours when it appeared. its completely yours when you work towards having it. it's yours to enjoy when you finally have it. so enjoy it throughout. enjoy it when you're persisting that you have it. enjoy it when an intrusive thought arises. enjoy it when you question it's validity. because it was yours the moment the big bang happened, and it was yours before it happened, and it was yours when nothing existed, and it's yours when the world ends. it's yours from start to end.

if it wasn't yours, it would've passed you by, and you wouldn't even have any idea. if it wasn't yours, you wouldn't be here right now. if it wasn't yours, you wouldn't be trying even if you're doubting it. if it wasn't yours, it wouldn't have found you in a hundred lifetimes.

you cannot make this shit up. it's a FACT. you don't find anything. whatever is yours, finds you. you cannot escape what's yours. that is your blessing. take it. own it. live it.

you're NEVER chasing. your desires chase you. they WANT to be yours. you CAN live without them. you definitely can. they can't. but since they're yours, they move with you, and so in your frame, it looks like you're chasing after them. that you have to have them. SO WIDEN YOUR FRAME. WIDEN THAT FUCKING PICTURE. ZOOM THE FUCK OUT. SEE, that they continue chasing after you, trying to catch up. so own them. stop running. give yourself a break. take a breather. what are you chasing after anyway? when everything is yours since the beginning of the world, and even before that. you're making your life awfully like Achilles's. stop going so fast that you pass your desires and then end up behind them. stop running in circles. stop, and relax. you've reached the end line. you ARE the end line. let your desires come to YOU. that's what you deserve, and that is EXACTLY what you have.

you will have exactly what you intend. intention matters, and actions follow. so intend big, assume the "impossible", and watch it appear before you. the mind is a powerful thing. it always works in your favor, but only if you keep it under your control. do not let it even DARE to think it can control you. don't YOU ever think it can control you. sit down with it. tell it your desires. tell it that you already HAVE your desires. and most importantly, tell it that it has to work for you NO MATTER WHAT. because that is what it's supposed to do. that's it's purpose.

no, you're not GOD. you're YOU. that's your power. GOD has too much to take care of. the wind; it's direction, the water; its flow, the rain; where it falls, the leaves; when they wither, your next breath that you'll take, every single person on this once fully green Earth. he's constantly taking care of everyone else. do you have the time to take care of every single individual alive and breathing right now? honestly, no. you're not gonna sit here saying "oh, yeah. let me pay the debts of someone on the other end of the world who probably doesn't even know me". I know I won't. is that selfish? I don't care. I deserve everything that I want as much as anyone else in this whole wide world. so no. NO NO NO. you're nothing, but YOU. you don't "make it happen", you don't have to. you assume, it happens. you intend, its here. that's YOU. you don't have to sit down and plan HOW what you want will happen, you sit down and assume it'll happen, and it will.

anyways, yeah. you get the point. you are you, do not try to be anything or anyone else. be you, do you, for you. and everything will be yours. it already is. you are the CORE, the CENTER, the start and the end.

[louisa-gc]

how to start reading again

from someone who was a voracious reader until high school and is now getting back into it in her twenties.

start with an old favourite. even though it felt a little silly, i re-read the harry potter series one christmas and it wiped away my worry that i wasn't capable of reading anymore. they are long books, but i was still able to get completely immersed and to read just as fast as i had years and years ago.

don't be afraid of "easier" books. before high school i was reading the french existentialists, but when getting back into reading, i picked up lucinda riley and sally rooney. not my favourite authors by far, but easier to read while not being totally terrible. i needed to remind myself that only choosing classics would not make me a better or smarter person. if a book requires a slower pace of reading to be understood, it's easier to just drop it, which is exactly what i wanted to avoid at first.

go for essays and short stories. no need to explain this one: the shorter the whole, the less daunting it is. i definitely avoided all books over 350 pages at first and stuck to essay collections until i suddenly devoured donna tartt's goldfinch.

remember it's okay not to finish. i was one of those people who finished every book they started, but not anymore! if i pick up a book at the library and after a few chapters realise i'd rather not read it, i just return it. (another good reason to use your local library! no money spent on books you might end up disliking.)

analyse — or don't. some people enjoy reading more when they take notes or really stop to think about the contents. for me, at first, it was more important to build the habit of reading, and the thought of analysing what i read felt daunting. once i let go of that expectation, i realised i naturally analyse and process what i read anyway.

read when you would usually use your phone. just as i did when i was a child, i try to read when eating, in the bathroom, on public transport, right before sleeping. i even read when i walk, because that's normally a time i stare at my screen anyway. those few pages you read when you brush your teeth and wait for a friend very quickly stack up.

finish the chapter. if you have time, try to finish the part you're reading before closing the book. usually i find i actually don't want to stop reading once i get to the end of a chapter — and if i do, it feels like a good place to pick up again later.

try different languages. i was quickly approaching a reading slump towards the end of my exchange year, until i realised i had only had access to books in english and that, despite my fluency, i was tired of the language. so as soon as i got back home i started picking up books in my native tongue, which made reading feel much easier and more fun again! after some nine months, i'm starting to read in english again without it feeling like a huge task.

forget what's popular. i thought social media would be a fun way to find interesting books to read, but i quickly grew frustrated after hating every single book i picked up on some influencer's recommendation. it's certainly more time-consuming to find new books on your own, but this way i don't despise every novel i pick up.

remember it isn't about quantity. the online book community's endless posts about reading 150 books each year or 6 books in a single day easily make us feel like we're slow, bad readers, but here's the thing: it does not matter at all how many books you read or what your reading pace is. we all lead different lives, just be proud of yourself for reading at all!

stop stressing about it. we all know why reading is important, and since the pandemic reading has become an even more popular hobby than it was before (which is wonderful!). however, there's no need to force yourself to be "a reader". pick up a book every now and then and keep reading if you enjoy it, but not reading regularly doesn't make you any less of a good person. i find the pressure to become "a person who reads" or to rediscover my inner bookworm only distances me from the very act of reading.

[rex-rambles]

➤ YOU ARE HERE | OSCAR PIASTRI

pairing: oscar piastri x soulmate!reader

summary: you and oscar discover that you're soulmates when randomly, once a year, you trade places for five minutes. it goes about as well as you expect for an f1 driver.

wc: 6.1 k

warnings: angst with a happy ending! mentions of minor injuries and hospitalization

➤ MASTERLIST - MAX'S SOULMATE STORY

2019

Waiting to figure out how you're going to meet your soulmate can be exhausting.

For some people, it's simple: a red string around their pinky, a timer on their wrist, not seeing colour until you finally lock eyes, but for you? Since you've turned eighteen, there have been no signs at all. No magically appearing footprints, no mystery injuries to match your soulmate. 

Nothing. 

You had tried to figure out what strange, hidden thing it could possibly be, but nothing made sense. Perhaps your soulmate would be someone else with no symptoms; perhaps you didn't have one at all. 

That's why, when you wake up in a strangers bed, your first thought isn't about soulmates. It's the middle of the night, or at least it should be, yet the sun faintly shines through the curtains, an unfamiliar alarm clock blaring on a nightstand, which, rolling over to look at, is not your night stand, and is not your alarm clock, and this most certainly isn't your childhood bedroom.

It takes a moment to realize that you haven't been kidnapped, whipping off the covers and standing in the middle of the rather messy room, and rather, you've been transported...somewhere. The notepad on the bedside table explains that it's a Hilton hotel, and slowly, picking up the few pieces of dirty laundry scattered about, you realize you must have traded places with your soulmate. 

Swapping locations wasn’t exactly uncommon, but it was a strange thing to wake up to in the night. You quickly move through the drawers of the tables and desks, trying to find something to write down your personal information with before you return to normal. You're not sure if it was a permanent thing, or a matter of minutes, but you're also a bit too tired to care right now. Instead, you write down your name, begin to write the first digits of your phone number, and in a blink, you're standing before your own bathroom mirror. 

Well, at least your soulmate would know your name. Considering the whole swapping thing, your soulmate must have woken up in your room too, luckily much tidier than his hotel room was, but it's still an embarrassing thought, the stuffed animals nearby, the old posters on your walls. Finally recognizing why you're standing in front of your mirror, you realize whoever your soulmate is has tried their best to get a message across, lipstick smeared on your mirror in what you realize are words: 

Oscar Pi

Seems he got cut off by the timing the swap, the lipstick now laying open in your sink, but with a growing smile, you find that you don't really care, because your soulmate does exist. 

Oscar.

It's a good name, you think. 

-

2020

The second time it happens, Oscar is on vacation, and he's not really prepared for it. He'd biked up a cliffside trail, overlooking the small, coastal Australian town where he and his family were staying. He'd stopped to take a break when suddenly, he was standing in the middle of a grocery store in nothing but his bike gear. 

At least, he thinks, you hadn't been standing in the freezer section.

Ever since your first swap, Oscar had tried everything in his power to recreate it, the way he had fallen asleep, everything he had done that same day, but he was starting to think your swapping was a once-a-year type of ordeal, or maybe you were in charge of it. If he could ask, maybe he could know, but it had been difficult trying to figure out how to contact you, considering all he got was a name, and he was travelling so often. At least you'd have a nice view, when you teleport to where he was. If his parents are quick enough up the trail, you might even meet them. 

Oscar stares down at the basket in hand, a rather strange mix of mostly junk food, and without thinking, he turns to the nearby fruit stand and places a few oranges and apples in for good measure. Then, as he moves towards a banana, he realizes he should be trying to get his number to you in some way. There's even less nearby for him to possibly write with than your room, and considering the few people staring at him, he can't exactly walk up to someone to relay the message. 

Everyone had told him he had time to meet you, to get your number, but knowing you existed after questioning it for so long meant that Oscar wanted forever to start now. Finally, an old woman takes pity and offers him a smile, and with a deep breath, he approaches her. "Excuse me?" 

"Riding? In this weather?" The woman says, eyeing him up and down. "You're a brave one, dear." 

"I've just swapped places with my soulmate," He manages to get out, "Could you take a message?" 

"Oh, how sweet! You know, it took me four years to find my soulmate after I turned eighteen. We shared reflections in mirrors, made it pretty tricky to get ready for the day!" Oscar nods along as happily as he can, trying not to rush the poor woman, but also desperately needing to get his message out. "Sorry, what did you want to say?" 

"Tell them I'm from Australia, and my phone number is-" He blinks, and finds himself back on the trail, and he curses so loudly that when his sister rides up to him, she looks rather shocked. 

Hattie pauses, lowering her bike as Oscar forces himself to sit on the ground, bringing his knees to his chest. "What, you crash your bike?" 

"I traded places with my soulmate, and couldn't tell them my phone number, again." Then, he finds his phone in the grass beside him, and for a joyful moment, he thinks you might have left a message, and finds something only marginally better: a photo. You're pretty in a way that shocks him to his core, that you're his, that you're supposed to be together. You're turned to show the distance in the background, a thumbs up as if to show you approve of his vacation location. Then, in the sand beside the path, he finds your number scrawled, only for it to be blown away in the wind. 

When you return to the grocery store, you find yourself in front of an old woman, and far more fruit in your basket than a human should need. 

-

2023

For the next two years, it goes on about the same. You end up outside some racing track in Barcelona, and the workers don't understand what you're drunkenly asking, and Oscar ends up at a bar where everyone's too gone to relay the message. You end up walking dogs in Australia in a snowsuit while Oscar ends up in the middle of a ski hill, wiping out before he can even think of giving out his number. 

You've sort of given up hope, at least for now, that you and Oscar could finally coordinate it. You carry sharpies wherever you go, just in case you end up somewhere you can actually write it down. All that preparation doesn't help, however, when it happens again in the middle of the night. 

You end up in some orange room with nothing but a massage table, and when you step out into the hall, you find yourself among people dressed in orange who look just as surprised to see you as you are surprised to see them.

"What are you doing back here?" It doesn't help, you realize, that you're just in an oversized t-shirt. "Get out!" 

"I'm Oscar's soulmate!" You quickly try to explain, though the few people around don't seem to believe it. 

"Sure, you're Oscar Piastri's soulmate, and you're here like that?"

Piastri. You should probably be more worried about what's about to happen, but you can't really focus on that.

You have a last name. "We trade places. That's our thing. You have to give him my number-" 

"Can we get security to escort them out? I don't buy it." Someone says, snapping their fingers at a guard. "I've never heard Oscar mention trading places with a soulmate before." A security guard, larger than any human you've ever seen before, tries to corral you backwards as you helplessly explain, over and over, but it's not use. 

You're shoved out an emergency door, and with a blink, you're standing in your bedroom. 

Oscar Piastri. 

Never mentioned trading places with a soulmate. You slowly sink onto the edge of your bed, trying to figure out why he'd never say anything, and all the answers don't seem right. Maybe he was just a private person, but still, trading places with your soulmate, potentially at any time, is the kind of thing you mention to people. 

Oscar Piastri. You grab your phone, before realizing that Oscar must have been in your room, must have left something behind, but despite the way you tear your room apart, you find no note, see no number, not even a selfie on your phone. 

Never mentioned you, never tried to give you his number. 

Maybe all this time, he was avoiding you on purpose, and sinking back into your bed, you finally google his name. 

Oscar Piastri, F1 driver. 

Maybe someone that famous didn't need a soulmate. 

Maybe someone that famous didn't need you. 

-

2025

Oscar's pretty sure, after his security team threw you out in 2023, that you had to hate him. He hadn't been able to leave behind a number yet, hadn't been able to find you on any social media, but you must've been able to search for him by now. That night, when he blinked back to stare at a very confused security guard through tears, he realized he'd sobbed his way through your last swap, unable to do anything but stand there. 

It was pretty pathetic, all things considered. 2024 wasn't any better, another hotel room swap as Oscar ended up in the bathroom of some university, surrounded by women who screamed and chased him out and ruined his chance of leaving his number, again. You hadn't left a number or anything on your end, but you had finished folding his laundry, which is the only sign that you might still want to find him.

This year, he had a feeling it wasn't going to be any better. In fact, ever since extending his contract with McLaren, he's had this deep-seated fear that refused to go away. If it was possible to trade places in beds, on bikes, and when skiing, then it would be possible in cars. Not just any cars, either. 

In his racing car. 

And you might die in a fiery wreck before Oscar even gets the chance to meet you, to give you his number, anything. You'll die hating him, and he'll have to go throughout life soulmate-less. 

"You alright, mate?" Lando says quietly beside him from the driver's parade. "You're just...tense." 

"I have a bad feeling today," He says, and maybe because he said it, maybe because he always knew, maybe because the universe hates him, it happens. He's just pushing out into a straight when he blinks and finds himself in all his gear at the front of a lecture hall, and the world goes silent for a moment. 

You're in his car. For what Oscar can gather about you, you're most certainly not trained, you're not wearing any protective gear, and you are in one of the fastest cars on the planet, hurling toward your death at any second. "Well, I can't say I've seen this before." Someone he assumes to be your professor says, "An adventurous soulmate swap." 

Four minutes. He rips off his helmet and the sleeve under it, and trying to calm his breathing, all he can think to say is, "You need to call an ambulance." 

"What?" The professor looks at him in shock, and Oscar gestures to himself. 

"I'm an F1 driver, a racecar driver." What could he possibly say? That a potentially mangled corpse is about to teleport into this room? "My soulmate...oh god, they've been swapped with me, in my car, without protection. If they can't control the car, they're going to crash and end up back here." Finally, what he's waited for his whole life is before him: a pen and paper. He scribbles his information down quickly, phone number, name, address, social media handles, anything and everything. "I need you to be prepared for it to be bad." 

“I need everyone out of the room, now.” Immediately, the students are up and out of their seats, and Oscar pulls his helmet back on and waits. 

You’re a student. He has no way of knowing if you can even drive, and he’s just chucked you into an F1 race, broadcast for everyone to see, and he has no idea what to do with himself. How does he possibly apologize for this? For maybe ruining your life? Who wants a soulmate who kills them before their first date? Tears spring to his eyes before he can stop it, and vaguely, he recognizes a phone being shown before his face. 

“They seem to be okay?” A student says, extending a phone to him as he watches his own car choppily slow down, but it's not enough. You could hit a barrier, you could hit another car, and you'd be dead.

Instantly. 

"What...what university is this?" He says, muffled by the helmet. 

"University of Oxford, England. This is a conference, to showcase student work." Oxford. 

You must be smart, then. 

And he's the reason your brain is going to break. 

-

You knew Oscar was an F1 driver, but it had never occurred to you that you might swap during a race. For a moment, when you open your eyes, you don't really believe it. The steering wheel in hand, feet on the gas, it's like a dream, and then every sense hits you at once that this is not what you're supposed to be doing. 

You try to slow down, but the car isn't like a normal car, the force of it pressing you back into the seat as you force your eyes shut, the sound of it deafening, the weight, the car, the movement, it all spirals into a sensation that you can't control. The gas pedal itself is the hardest thing it feels to push, but you grunt your way through it as the car slows, the feeling of the ground underneath it changing, but you still can't bear to open your eyes, can't stand the thought that you're about to die without even meeting the stupid owner of this car, who probably doesn't even want to meet you. 

You're not sure how long it takes, but finally, the car stops. The world stops. Your chest heaves, your head rolls, but the car is not moving, and you are alive, albeit unable to move, or hear, or function at all, really. Your eyes blink up to stare at a helmet peering over you, your own reflection staring back from its visor. If the driver is saying something, you can't hear. They take off their helmet, revealing a head of curly hair and a very, very concerned expression. 

It's Oscar's teammate. 

Lando, you think. He's quick to try and get you up out of the car, arms coming to undo the clasps keeping you in, and your arms very loosely manage to work their way around his neck. 

As he tries to get you up, however, the world spins and you think you might be sick. He's saying something, you can tell he must be saying something, but it doesn't register. All you see is the dread on his face as you slip back down, hitting the lecture hall floor before you pass out. 

-

Oscar comes to hugging Lando. 

"No no no-" Lando's voice is shrill, obviously scared, and Oscar doesn't want to think of how hurt you must've been for Lando to stop racing and try to pull you out of the car. "Oscar? Your soulmate! Why the fuck wouldn't you tell us you swap places-" 

"Are they alive?" Oscar shouts, ripping off his helmet as he manages to get out of the car, and Lando nods. "They didn't...they didn't crash?"

"Mate, they fucking steered the thing eyes closed." Lando and him stand on the grass for a minute, just taking in the moment before Oscar realizes you're back in Oxford, probably collapsed, injured, heaven forbid dying, and it doesn't take him long to get moving. 

No one really knows what to do, and Oscar doesn't blame them. He never told anyone, until that fateful day, that he and his soulmate swapped places. It would be a hazard, something that would hold him back from F1. He refused to allow anything to stop him from what he'd dreamt of his whole life, but today, all that advice makes perfect sense. Because of him, because he wanted to go farther, to do more, he put his one true love in harm's way, and if you die, he's not sure how he's going to live with himself. 

Passing flashing cameras, he finds that he doesn't care what the headlines say, doesn't care that he just threw the race for McLaren, he needs to be on the first plane to England as soon as possible, because he truly has no way of knowing if you're alive. 

He's not waiting another year to find out. 

-

For the past two hours, you'd folded the paper Oscar left you perhaps a hundred times, carefully into a perfect square before unwrapping it again. It was on the back of your script for your presentation, the contents of it now long forgotten for the frantic writing. 

It begins with I'm so sorry.

It lists his full name, his phone number, his mother's phone number, a man named 'Mark Webber's phone number, his instagram, his twitter, both of which you'd already found. His address in Melbourne, his address in Monaco. Everything to identify himself with, finally in the palm of your hands, but you had yet to contact him. He was probably still racing, you found yourself arguing. Probably busy. It's all excuses that hold you back, but you wouldn't know what to say if you tried in the first place.

Hi, it's your soulmate you almost killed?

"How's the dizziness, darling?" A nurse asks over you, and you're broken from your intense folding of the paper to look up at her, and the room only spins a tiny bit. 

"Better than before, still a little...woozy." She hums, writes something down. 

"I think you might take the cake for patients today. Teleported into an F1 car by your soulmate," She muses, "What a world we live in. And your leg?" 

"Sore, but survivable." Apparently, F1 cars' braking systems take a ridiculous amount of force to push, and while the adrenaline had let you brake, the aftereffect was that your whole left leg hurt, from hip to the tips of your toes. "Are you sure I'm fine to just leave? I'm not going to collapse on the street?" 

The nurse flips through your papers. "You have no concussions, no ear damage from the car, no sprains or tears, I think it was just a mix of exhaustion, adrenaline crashing, and shock that made you pass out. Does anything still feel wrong? Anything out of the ordinary?" 

The paper in your hands folds itself into a neat little square as you think. The world just sort of feels slow, or maybe suddenly too fast for things to make sense, that you were in that car, that Oscar had told them to call an ambulance for you, that you survived it all. That you were barely even hurt.

"There's a madman running through the parking lot." The room of patients turns to look at the elderly man in the bed closest to the window. His pain medication had made him quite the entertainment for the two hours you've been in and out of scans and tests, but this time, he seemed adamant. "Someone stop him. Looks like he's set himself on fire." 

"What?" The nurse is gone from your side in an instant, before quickly sighing and placing a hand over her heart. "He's just wearing orange, Paul. He's not on fire." 

Just wearing orange. 

For the first time unaided in two hours, you rise from your bed and join them at the window, dragging your left leg as you walk, and watch Oscar slide between cars like some sort of action star, standing out amongst the grey weather in a neon orange hoodie before he manages to sprint inside, and the paper in hand suddenly feels so overwhelming that you're not really sure what to do. 

He's here. 

For you. 

You don't know where he was racing, but considering he was here in two hours, it couldn't have been that far, or maybe he had a private jet, or maybe the the world was both too slow and too fast for you to keep up. Without thinking, you move out the hall and into the central area with the nurses desk as the elevator dings open, and for the first time, you see Oscar. 

He's surprisingly dishevelled, considering you're the one who just got transported into one of the world's fastest cars. His hoodie seems a bit too big on him, and taking him in as he quickly approaches the nurses' desk, so are his pants. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't think they were his, and you're not really sure what to do with that information. 

He just grabbed the closest thing to get changed to get to you? "I'm sorry, I can't understand what you're saying." One of the nurses says to him, "You need to slow down." 

"Soulmate," He says between gasping breaths, "Not a car accident, but teleported into my car, hurt-" 

"Oscar." You say before you can really stop yourself, approaching his side, and he just sort of waves a hand in your direction. 

"I don't know if they're alive, or dead, or-" 

"Oscar?" You realize he doesn't know the sound of your voice, like you do his. As gently as you can, you reach out and place a hand on the back of his neck, the closest exposed skin to you. The final step of a soulmate connection was touch, and you had heard so much about it: how sparks fly, how you've never felt more in love, how it changes the world, but it was just Oscar.

It was just you. Gently placing a hand on the back of his neck, to comfort him despite all that you had been through today, was just where you were meant to be. It was right, and it was normal, and you gently spread your fingers into the back of his hair as he slowly turned to you, your hand drifting now to hold his cheek. "I'm right here." 

"You're here." Oscar breathes out slowly, quickly scanning you for any sign of injury, and without even knowing, his eyes settle on your sore leg, staring at it intently. "You are actually here." 

"You're a hard person to track down, you know." Then, without much ceremony, Oscar slumps into you. It's as if all the weight he'd been carrying his entire life had been let go from his shoulders, practically folding over you. He buries his face into the side of your neck as his arms latch around you, pulling you tight to his chest. It's a desperate sort of thing that has you realizing how terrifying it must have been from his end of the swap, of hearing that you were in his car, knowing you would be hurt. You hold him back just as tight, hands gently smoothing against his broad shoulders as if to show that you're here, and you're safe.

"You have no idea." He grumbles softly, and you can feel the heat rise to your cheeks at the feeling of his lips so close to your skin, now pressed into a smile. "Worst soulmate trait ever." He pulls away slowly, and this close, you take in all the details you never could before. He's almost growing stubble, in need of a shave, a soft spattering of freckles across his face and neck. You find yourself stuck on the fact that he's yours, that he's staring at you, that he's real. "I'm so sorry," He tries to say, and you rush to cut him off.

"You didn't have any control over this." That's the sort of thing, with soulmates. It's meant to be, but you have no control over who it is, how far they are, what you have to do to find each other. The most important thing is that you did find each other, and if you get a ridiculous story to tell out of it, then you don't mind the hardships it took to get him here. Despite it all, however, there is one question that remains in your mind. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" Doubt comes creeping back in, so ingrained in your mind that even when holding your soulmate, you couldn't quite let go of it. "Seems important for an F1 Driver to mention someone else might swap into his car." 

Oscar's eyes don't quite meet yours, returning to stare at your leg. Maybe it's a special soulmate ability to tell when the other is hurt. Maybe he just needs someone else to look at besides your eyes. "I didn't want them to think it was a liability. Not that you are a liability, it's just...you can see why they might not let me race if they knew this would happen." Then, without so much as taking a breath, he begins again. "I'm so sorry-" 

"Oscar." His name feels right, on your tongue, and based on the way his eyes light up, it sounds right to him, too. "It's okay." You can understand why he'd do it. Not the smartest thing in the world, but then again, you didn't need some genius for a soulmate, you just needed Oscar. A small, perfect, ridiculous smile finally grows on his face, and you find yourself grinning up at him. You suppose it's your turn to apologize now for whatever damage you did to his car. "I'm sorry for making you lose the race." 

"Lose?" Oscar echoes with a soft laugh, the kind of sound that makes you hate all the near misses before ten times over. "You didn't crash, you even got onto the grass safely. Ever considered a future in F1?" 

"Well, I’ve considered a future with an f1 driver, does that count?"

-

Curled up in your hotel bed, Oscar begins trying to sort through the information he'd learned today. You were pursuing your masters, in a subject he can't really put his finger on currently, but he has the rest of his life to figure it out. Whatever it was, it was important enough that you were at Oxford presenting about it when you swapped into his car. 

When you swapped back, you passed out, and woke up being brought into the ambulance. It was confusing, they ran a million tests, but you're okay, if just exhausted. 

You were okay. 

You were alive. 

And you were currently taking a shower while Oscar sat on your hotel room bed and tried not to die himself. You had watched his races, kept tabs on him. Now that you weren't just passing by in the night, he had your number, every social media account. He had even introduced you to his mom, who tore a strip off of him over Facetime for not telling McLaren sooner about the soulmate-swapping thing, but that was all over now. 

You were alive. 

You were here. The shower turns off and Oscar stares intently down at Lando's pants, the closest thing he could find before rushing out, where the McLaren team let him use their private jet to get over to the closest airport in record time. He makes a mental note to thank Lando for his clothes, but that all goes down the drain when the door opens and you're standing in just an oversized t-shirt, haloed by the light of the bathroom, and Oscar rediscovers how attractive you are all over again.

You were staying the night together, seeing as Oscar had time, and the jet had already left back to the race. He wouldn't have tried to leave anyway. You needed someone to be here after everything that happened, and Oscar needed to meet you.

You limp slightly as you approach the bed, the only sign of the day you'd had, and the way the left side of your shirt rides up unevenly with your step makes Oscar blush in a way he didn't know was possible. This must have been what you looked like when you swapped into his hotel room for the first time, his. brain supplements as he forces himself to look back down at his lap. He remembers waking up to your childhood bedroom, the soft twinkling lights, the stuffed animals. It was so sweet, knowing you existed, and then he frantically tried to find a way to contact you, and ended up smearing make-up over your mirror. 

Then, it was the grocery store, a bar, a ski hill. Always missing each other to lead to this moment now, and seeing how you're looking at him when you kneel on the bed, Oscar can't even be mad it took so long. 

Because you're here. 

You're alive. "How do you think they pick?" 

"What?" 

"How do you think the universe picks soulmates?" You ask, curling up next to him. Despite the fact he basically refused to let go of you when you first met, he's now hesitant to touch. After all, you were still just getting to meet each other. You hadn't even had a date yet. "Like what makes you my soulmate? How does the universe even pull off the swap?" 

"No one knows." One of life's great mysteries, unfortunately. Oscar's pretty sure there's a science that goes into it, but right now, it doesn't feel like science: it feels like fate. "I suppose the universe just has a way of tying people together who are meant to be." 

You yawn in response, leaning back against the headboard and kicking your legs out, and Oscar's hands rest on the edge of Lando's hoodie. You just sort of nod at him and he pulls it off, not quite able to meet your eye, and you can't seem to do the same, suddenly very interested in the ceiling. "I have another sleep shirt, if you want. But you have to promise not to be weird about it." 

"Weird about it?" You slip from the bed to root through your suitcase, and Oscar quickly takes off his pants before he can think too much about sitting in front of you in his underwear. You toss something at him, and Oscar catches it midair, unravelling it to reveal one of his own shirt designs for the Austin Grand Prix, and his brain sort of breaks. 

You bought one of his shirts. 

You sleep in it. 

And he hadn't even heard your voice until earlier. "Couldn't afford to go to a race to see you," You say softly, standing awkwardly in the dim light of the hotel room. "Got the next best thing." 

"I think," He answers dryly, letting the shirt fall to his lap, "The next best thing is actually right here." 

"Wow," You say, a laugh bubbling out of you that makes Oscar thinks that maybe, just maybe the universe really knows what they're doing. "Really?" 

"All I'm saying," He says as he pulls the oversized shirt over his head, "Is that who needs an Oscar Piastri shirt when you have Oscar Piastri?" 

"That's the last time I spend money on your merch," You answer resolutely. "I get free stuff for the rest of time." 

Then, with a soft glint to your eye, you launch yourself onto the bed, falling backward with another laugh, and Oscar looms over you, giddier than he thinks he's ever felt before. You were all his, and you were right here. You weren't going to teleport away, weren't going to disappear. He had your phone number, and he was debating getting it tattooed on his forearm for good measure. "You can have whatever you want after what I've put you through." 

"That's a dangerous declaration, Oscar." Your voice saying his name still seems so strange, but it's right. He's just going to have to get you to say it a few more times to get used to it. Your hand gently smooths up his chest, waiting right over his pounding heart, and your eyes flicker up to his at the feeling of how fast it's racing. 

It should be weird, really, for two strangers to be suddenly soulmates. There's an adjustment period everyone has to go through, the first dates, the first hundred questions needing to be asked about favourite colours, about life goals, but all of that stress, that awkwardness, slips away with your hand on his chest, your eyes on his, because the chase is finally over. Oscar might be good at racing, but going slow, with you, with the rest of his life, doesn't seem so bad. 

"I think," He finally says, "The universe figures out what someone needs in another person, and picks that way." 

"And what do you need?" Then, as cheesy as it is, as much as he knows the others will groan about it when he tells them every vivid detail, he very gently says, 

"You. Here." Then, to be more serious, "Someone to keep me calm. What do you need?" 

You don't answer him, but rather lean up to gently press your lips to his, and Oscar tries to thank every individual star, every planet, every galaxy that makes up the universe for putting you here, for him, forever. It's soft and sweet and hesitant, the kind of thing Oscar needed this to be. It's you, here, with him, and it's every mile over the speed limit Oscar's ever driven, and it's slow and it's steady like everything Oscar didn't realize he needed in his life. 

-

-

-

2025, Again

It was a very different experience, being on this side of the race.

You had only seen it from screens, and then the grass, but being in the paddock was like its own little world. If you were alone, you're sure you could exist here on your own without anyone noticing, but considering you were walking in beside Oscar, hand in hand, people were starting to pick up on who you were very quickly. 

"You know, that's a first in F1 History," Someone with a camera says, pointing at you and Oscar. "A soulmate swap into an F1 car! We're quite happy you turned out okay, but have you considered ever getting into a car again? Maybe following in Oscar's footsteps?" 

Oscar looks at you, checking to see if you want to answer, and you smile up at him. "I am happy to never set foot in a race car again, actually. I don't know how you do it, or how anyone does it." 

"You didn't do that bad," Oscar says, shaking his head. "You just need the right protection and the right training." 

"The closest I am ever going to get to a race car is here," You joke softly, offering a small wave to the camera operator. "I'm happy to enjoy the comforts of the paddock." 

"Your loss," Oscar says before pressing a kiss to your temple, and it hasn't gotten any less thrilling since your first kiss. It had been four months since you'd finally met, and it had been a lot of strange negotiations to get you here, date nights spent with Oscar flying out to you to get to know you, and in return, Oscar flying you out to get to know him, and see Monaco, and finally, now, his races. 

You were worried it would bring back some sort of traumatic memory, but if anything, it was exciting. You were here with no threat of being shoved in a car or crashing, but rather to watch Oscar in his element. He guides you through the day, stopping into hospitality, meeting people, meeting Lando again. You'd already sort of met, considering he was trying to haul you out of the car, but now you could actually talk and thank him without a racecar in the way. 

Oscar suits up eventually, about to start the race, and he corners you just before he goes out. "If it gets too overwhelming, just let someone know, okay?" 

"Oscar, I'll be fine. I want to see you race." He presses a quick kiss to your forehead, and you choose to grab the front of his fireproofs, pulling him down to kiss him properly. "Now go win so I can finally hold a trophy." 

"That's what you want? A trophy?" He asks with a laugh, putting his helmet on. "Not me getting the points?"

"After my race? I want my participation trophy." Then, because you can't ever truly ignore him, "And obviously I want you to win to do well too. Trophy just comes first." He shakes his head, moving away from you, and thought muffled, you can make out him saying three words neither of you had said yet, something you hadn't known how to. You freeze in the hallway of the paddock, watching him go, and it's a blur as people try to find you a headset and a monitor to look at, but it doesn't last very long.

You were soulmates. You knew that, obviously, but it still felt strange to think about what it really meant, how you really felt, what the future held.

Your mind drifts to those thoughts as easily as Oscar makes his rounds. He's got a second-place start, which is good, but watching the cars goes around and around on the screen isn't what you came here for. You could do that anytime, any place.

So, against all better judgment, you don't stay put with the thoughts of what might be, what to do, what to say. Instead, you make for the stands, and sit and listen to the cars whip by, feel the force and the wind, and it's everything you thought a race would be before you had accidentally partaken in one. It's fast, it's loud, and it's distracting, but it's good, intoxicating as the fans cheer, the cars almost too quick to make out their movements. 

At some point, Oscar gets the lead, and you think you and the McLaren fans around you lose your voices as you scream for him, and despite how hard you try, you find yourself wondering why the universe picks soulmates like it does. Why it would in the first place? Love can be so many things, loving sports, loving family, but with Oscar, it's something so wholly new that makes you think the universe was onto something. 

Because the universe figures out what someone needs in another person, and picks that way. That's what Oscar had said.

When the race ends, and you're ambling down the stands and back to the paddock, it's the universe guiding you. When you get to where they park the cars, and Oscar is standing on top of his, he keeps looking around, helmet already off as he's squinting at the crowd forming nearby of McLaren workers, because the universe figures out what someone needs in another person, and picks that way. 

And Oscar needs to find you, in the crowd, to know you're there, to know it's real. 

And you need Oscar, who's rushing to you like a man on a mission, like how he was that day at the hospital, and without thinking, your hand finds the back of his neck, pulling him in for an indentical hug as his face presses into your neck, and the universe congratulates itself for putting two pieces back together again. 

"I was watching in the stands," Is what you mean to say to Oscar, and you do, but maybe it's the universe, maybe it's him, maybe it's the adrenaline still pumping, but you find yourself adding something to the end before you can stop yourself. "I love you." 

And though you can't hear it, over the sound of the crowd screaming around him, the sound of your own heart, the sound of the fireworks, you feel the way he says the words back to you, and what it really means.

I love you.

You are here.

a/n: returning to my fanfic roots with a soulmate au + my first time writing for oscar!!

[monster-disaster]

Feral question—

How would different monsters react to their human partner giving them playful love bites? Just randomly too not just during sexy time

Also what type of monsters would go crazy when their partner leaves scratch marks on their back during sexy time?

monsters x human!Reader Good to know: some spice, nothing serious

The simple answer: they love whatever you do to them. But let's unpack it a little bit:

Your orc finds it amusing whenever you bite his bicep just because it's there, and you can't say no to an opportunity like that. Your bite barely feels more than a small nibble, a teasing little thing that makes him grin. And, of course, he has to return the favor. He knows exactly what the scrape of his tusks against the sensitive skin of your neck does to you, and by the time he is finished, the mark of your nails is all over his broad back. Deep, stinging trails that only make him rumble into your heated skin with satisfaction. He wears them like a trophy. He only rolls off you when he knows you have nothing left to give him, tangled in his embrace, all breathless and boneless.

Your werewolf knows all too well the primal urge to bite a loved one, but you only do it when he is in his human form because, well, fur. He loves it. It registers in his mind as a claim, and he only wishes the mark would stay, but he is happy with the ones you leave on his back too. Sometimes, the way he urges you to dig deeper, to leave something more lasting, almost makes you hesitate. Almost. But you can see it in his eyes how it rewires his brain in ways he can't put it into words. And when he becomes absolutely sure you are the one, he won’t settle for fading marks anymore. No, he will take it further and tattoo your name somewhere on his body as a permanent claim for the world to see. You will call him silly for it, but deep down, it does something with your brain too.

Your naga laughs whenever you attempt to bite him. Your weak, blunt human teeth do absolutely nothing to his scales. And unfortunately, your nails either. Not without causing him real damage, but he appreciates the sentiment anyway. And he is more than happy to return the favor. Between the two of you, it’s always you who ends up with the marks of your lovemaking, but it's fine, because soon, he will propose, and there will always be a ring on his finger as your claim over him.

Your dragon is similar. A soft, fragile human like you could never leave a mark on his thick scales, but it doesn't mean he doesn’t go absolutely feral when you try. The fact that his pretty, delicate mate wants to claim him? It only adds to his ego. And he would really, really like to return the favor, but he can't. He is all too aware of how dangerous he can be. He is a predator through and through, and you are his sweet, little treasure. Instead, he drowns you in gifts and grins, all too smug and pleased with himself, whenever you sink your teeth into him.

Your goblin found it weird the first few times when you bit him while he was busy with the most mundane things, but he got used to it quickly. Now, if too much time passes without you chewing on him, he starts getting antsy. Did something happen? Are you mad? He won’t rest until you finally put your mark on him again. You created a monster with your habit, but honestly? Neither of you are complaining.

Your minotaur gets horny the moment he feels your teeth on him. It doesn't matter if it's the middle of the day and you have a bunch of things to do, now, you are his for the next several hours. Minotaurs are not predators like werewolves or rakshasas, they don't have the instincts to claim with bites and scratches. They prefer the stuffing you full until you are dripping method. And your minotaur isn't different, but because of this, he finds your need to bite him and claw at him even more exciting.

Your rakshasa never misses the opportunity to flash his sharp canines whenever you bite him, saying now it's his turn. He finds your habit more amusing than anything. His pretty bunny wants to bite him, really? Cute. But the scratches you leave down his back? Now, they are a different story. Those make him purr. He loves nothing more than stretching out beside you, all relaxed and spent with your mark slightly burning on his back.

[taegimood]

— nudes?! (k.th) ♡

pairing: kang taehyun x fem!reader genre: best friends to ?, non-idol au, suggestive rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1.4k warnings: mention/description of reader's nudes, mention of reader in lingerie, implication of sexy time at the end, tyun gets hard and is v clear abt what he wants, they’re both horny asf synopsis: what happens when your best friend who secretly has the hots for you accidentally sees your nudes?

requested forever ago by @mapofthemazeinthemirror <3 [blog status: semi-hiatus, requests closed]

| yeonjun ver. | soobin ver. | beomgyu ver. | kai ver. |

masterlist

──────────────────────

taehyun considers you one of the bros.

right up there along with his 4 other crazy best friends, you fit right in, no sideways feelings to worry about and endless wingman opportunities to gain — hell, he even forgets sometimes that you've got a pair of boobs under there somewhere.

and all of this, of course, is completely and absolutely:

not true.

it's exactly what you seem to think in that pretty little head of yours, though, as taehyun often observes; it's quite cute actually, he thinks.

"out of all the guys i could like, why does it have to be the one guy in my life who would draft me onto his football team if he had one?" he'd overheard you complaining to yeonjun one day.

(sorry, but trust me, sweetheart - you wouldn't even make it past tryouts, he'd thought afterwards upon fighting back a laugh and an endeared little grin.)

oh, if only you knew.

if only you knew the steady breaths he has to take whenever you stand so temptingly close to him; or how many filthy images he has to shake out of his mind when he's helping you with your workouts; or that annoying little shadow called jealousy that he has to push down when you smile so sweetly at a man that isn't him.

taehyun is a man of self control, and a man who would do anything for the people that he loves — which means that no matter how much he'd enjoy changing your mind about what exactly you assume he perceives you as, he knows for the sake of your friendship that he can't.

and so he doesn't.

but oh, you wish that he would.

taehyun is quite good at keeping his feelings in check, to the point where you're convinced at this point that if you were to strut naked across the room in front of him, he wouldn't even pay you any mind;

pft, you scoff at your own silly thought, as if something so ridiculous would ever happen. (…well....)

today you've decided that you're getting real tired of your own pining and yearning and eyes that shoot hearts like confetti every time your best friend walks into the room —

you pout at the sight of yourself reflected on the open camera screen of your phone as the self-timer counts down yet again. this has become quite the routine of yours.

body bare save for the lacy lingerie that doesn’t cover much of anything as you perch at the edge of your bed, posing so prettily, so sensually, just the way you imagine taehyun would like; just more photos to add to the naughty little album in your camera roll that you wish you could send to him but know that you never will.

there was a time where you used to try testing the waters a bit, some flirting here, a fleeting touch or two there. but you'd quickly learned how pointless it was. after all, a brick wall is never gonna flirt back.

you sigh. it's time to get going anyway; speak of the devil, he'll be here to pick you up in 20 minutes.

~

taehyun can see in his peripheral the way you keep glancing at him from the passenger seat of his car.

as usual, he maintains an even expression. "excited to see me or something?"

his lips quirk as you jump in your seat a little, quickly looking forwards and crossing your arms as you grumble, "you wish. i just saw you like two days ago."

he merely hums in acknowledgment, which gets you even more grumbly — ("no fair that i can never get a reaction out of you! why is it always me?!" you'd wailed in defeat one time after a failed attempt to get him back, your cheeks flushed pink and pretty).

taehyun smiles.

when he soon pulls up outside your friend's apartment building that you’d needed to drop something off at first on the way to yeonjun’s, he decides to be nice as he asks,

"where was that new cat café you wanted to go to? we can stop there before meeting the guys."

bingo. the smile that lights up your face is exactly what he was looking for as your previous pout melts away and you gasp, "really?! okay wait, i took a screenshot of their instagram page the other day, you can check and put the address in! i'll be super super quick!"

he bites back a laugh as you shove your phone into his hands and excitedly rush out of the car.

"5 minutes tops or i'm going without you!" he calls out the window, to which you shriek and scurry away even faster.

he grins to himself, shaking his head as you disappear into the building and he turns to click open your camera roll.

"alright, cat café, where are............ you."

taehyun feels as if a lightning rod has just shot straight through his entire body.

his muscles tense. all his breath escapes him in a rush.

you...

the sight of you is what greets him through the screen...

you,

completely naked.

it's like his skin is consumed by fire as his eyes roam across the rows of pictures in the album you'd left open; most taken on your bed, some in the shower at the gym that you both go to together, some where you’re donned in sets of delicious lingerie — his eyes widening and pants tightening when he even spots one from his own room, your skirt hiked up in the reflection of his full-length mirror as your panties dangle cheekily from one finger, leaving the delicious curve of your ass on full display.

when did she even take that??

he scrolls, and he's barely hanging on by a thread as his best friend who's supposed to stay his best friend poses so irresistibly pretty from the screen; his cock is so hard that it's painful as your big innocent eyes look up at him in complete contrast to the lewd position that you'd put yourself in.

god, the positions he wants to put you in...

alright, reel it in, kang taehyun. this can't go anywhere. you have to take it to the grave. you’ve gotta think about the friendship. you’ll just pretend you didn't see it. you’ll act aloof like you always do.

but every single ounce of self control that taehyun has spent so long holding together finally crashes down around him like a breaking dam when his gaze lands on the name of the album at the top of the screen.

— t ♡

his cock jumps.

fucking hell, these are for me.

when you skip your way back to the car minutes later, you don't notice at first how firmly he's gripping the steering wheel or the fact that he isn’t even looking at you, remaining staring straight ahead as you climb back into the passenger side.

you don't notice — that is, until your phone catches your eye, set neatly on the middle console with your worst nightmare staring right back up at you from the screen.

it feels as though a bucket of ice water has crash landed down on your head (both the water and the bucket) as you realize what happened.

but you barely even have the time to panic or react or beg for mercy, or perhaps for a lobotomy on you both, before taehyun is asking you:

"back seat or my place?"

his voice is so calm that you almost don't process his words. your thoughts buffer as you pause.

"wh... what?" you breathe.

that's when he finally turns his head to look at you, and the intensity of the hunger swimming in his stare is enough to leave you even more winded than you already were before as a familiar feeling stirs between your legs and your thighs clamp together of their own accord.

"back seat," he repeats slowly, "or my place?"

you swallow hard.

this.. t-this is... he means.…

your head is reeling, and dumbly you stammer back, "w-what about the guys..?" as if the plans with your friends really matter anymore in a moment like this.

fuck the guys. fuck the cat café. taehyun has already decided: he’s done holding back from what he wants, and what he wants is to make you his.

you blink at him wide-eyed as he leans towards you slightly in his seat, his voice low and assertive as he replies,

"we're not going."

he taps your phone as if to draw your attention back to it. as if it should be obvious.

"so, you choose." your eyes fly back up to his —

"where do you want me to fuck you?"

your lower belly explodes with heat as an electric shiver rolls down your spine, and you swear that this is the best day of your entire fucking life as you see the promise that flickers in his eyes.

maybe you won't be finding yourself on the football team after all.

──────────────────────

— taglist: @razsberrie, @saejinniestar, @hyukalyptus, @florestalio, @beomiracles, @kiss4baku, @kejingken, @hyukascampfire, @cherr4es, @stawmerry, @choikanghuening, @dawngyu, @soo-blue, @paradigms13

if you want to be added to my taglist and get notified whenever i post any writing, drop a comment or an ask and let me know! ♡

[hyunjincanraptoo]

make up sex

Happy Sunday, my loves! This fic is inspired by the beautiful incident of Jinnie lifting his shirt during escape on day 2 in Santiago. Idk if he has a gf but if it's the case (now or in the future) i really hope she isn't like reader for the sake of the fandom haha

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: smut, angst

Alexa, play make up sex by mgk

The concert had barely ended, and Hyunjin was still glistening with sweat when you stormed into the dressing room. He didn’t even have time to catch his breath before you were in front of him, arms crossed, jaw tight. "Are you serious, Hyunjin? Again?!"

He exhaled, running a towel through his damp hair, "Not this again, Yn…" "Yes, this again! Because you keep doing it!". Your voice was sharp, cutting through the noise of the busy backstage. "I tell you every single time how I feel, and you still go ahead and do it like it doesn’t matter!"

He shot you a look, refusing to believe you were arguing about this for the thousandth time. Tossing the towel on a chair, he tightened his jaw, "It’s a performance, babe. It’s fanservice, that’s all. I don’t even think about it, it just happens" "Bullshit". You stepped closer, eyes burning, "You know exactly what you’re doing. The way you look at the camera, the way you drag it out. Don’t act like it’s just muscle memory"

His eyes darkened, frustration flickering across his face, "What do you want me to do, huh?! Never interact with fans again?! Maybe I should just stop dancing, too!" "Don’t twist this into something it’s not, Hyunjin! I’m not asking you to stop performing, I’m asking you to respect me! But every time we talk about it, you brush it off like I’m overreacting!"

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, shaking his head, "Because you are! It’s just skin, for fuck’s sake!". Your breath hitched, hurt flashing across your features, "You really don’t get it, do you?". Hyunjin let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose, the tension between you was thick, suffocating, "What do you want me to say? That I’ll never do it again?! Fine. I won’t. Happy now?" 

"No, because you don’t mean it", you shot back, voice quieter now, but no less fierce. "You’re just saying that to end the argument. And next time, it’ll be the same damn thing!". You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head, "I don’t even know why I still bother, it feels like you don’t care about my feelings anymore".

That made him pause. You weren’t just annoyed— you were hurt.

Hyunjin’s expression shifted, his frustration flickered to something else, something heavier. He opened his mouth, then closed it, struggling to find the right words. After a few seconds, he reached for your hand, "It's not like that, baby. I'm not ignoring your feelings…"

But you pulled back.

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "You’re really this upset?", he asked, voice softer now.

You swallowed the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. "Let’s just go back to the hotel, Hyunjin", you muttered, turning away.

…

The ride back was mostly quiet, the tension still lingering. Once you stepped inside, you went straight to your shared room, standing in front of the edge of the bed.

Hyunjin followed, kneeling in front of you. He wrapped his arms around your hips, his gaze careful, "I don’t want you to go to sleep upset with me, my love”. You sighed, fingers slipping into his  hair, “I just… I love you. And I know it’s silly, but when I see you do that, it makes me feel like I have to share you with the whole world”.

Hyunjin leaned in, pressing his forehead against your low belly, “You don’t have to share me, baby. I’m yours”.

A quiet moment passed before he lifted his head, his hands sliding up to hold your waist, "Can I show you?". You nodded hesitantly. He stood up, moving slowly as he leaned down, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, down your neck. There was no rush, no desperation— just warmth and an unspoken apology behind every touch. He guided your hands to his body, letting them roam over every inch of his skin as if reminding you that he belonged only to you.

His lips ghosted over your collarbone, his fingers drawing slow circles over your hip as he settled his thigh between your legs. The heat between you shifted from the remnants of an argument to something more intimate. He pulled your shirt down from your shoulders with gentle hands, his fingers tracing your bare skin as if memorizing you all over again.

"You're so beautiful", he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, "I never want you to doubt that you're the only one I want”. But beneath all his tenderness, there was something else— a lingering tension, a certain rigidity. You weren’t fully surrendering to the moment. He noticed. 

Pausing, he pulled back just enough to scan your face, "You’re still mad at me, baby?" "You already know I am", you shot back, but your fingers traced the veins on his forearm, your touch was teasing, just enough to make him groan.

"Then show me”, he challenged, trailing open mouthed kisses along your jaw, "Take it out on me”. A rush of heat flooded your body. He was still sticky with sweat from the stage, and the rawness of it— the scent of him, the heat of his body— made your head spin.

You ran your fingertips over his bare chest under his shirt, just to tease him again. "You think you can distract me from the fact that you did it again?". His smirk was devilish, "I think I can make you forget why you’re mad in the first place”.

You gasped as he lifted you effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist before carrying you to the bed. He placed you on the mattress, climbing over you before you had time to catch your breath. "Tell me to stop”, he murmured, lips tracing down your neck, sharp teeth nipping just enough to make you arch. "Tell me you don’t want this”.

You didn’t. You couldn’t.

Your nails scratched down his back as he pushed your shirt up, exposing more of you to his hungry gaze. His mouth was everywhere from your collarbone to your ribs. He got rid of your clothes with a desperate urgency, like he needed to feel your bare skin against his own to believe you were really there— to know you knew he was still yours.

"I'm yours, baby”, he growled, hands intertwining with yours, to keep you in place but also to possess you. Not only in body but also in soul. “Not the fans', not the stage's. Yours"

You gasped as he thrusted into you, the sudden fullness stealing the breath from your lungs. There was no softness now, only heat— only the feverish clash of lips and teeth and hands. He set a punishing pace, hips slamming against yours, each thrust a silent plea, a desperate promise.

Your body responded in kind, clinging to him, taking everything he gave and demanding more. His name left your lips like a curse, fingers clutching at his sweaty skin as he drove you closer to the edge.

"Say it”, he rasped against your lips, "Say you know I'm yours”."You are mine" you gasped, nails digging deeper into his shoulders, "Only mine".

That was all it took. With a strangled groan, he buried himself deep, body shaking as he lost himself in you. The world faded away, leaving only your racing heartbeats, your tangled limbs, your breathless gasps for air.

As the intensity of the moment vanished, Hyunjin collapsed beside you, pulling you against his chest. His lips brushed against your cheekbones, his arms holding you tight.

"I mean it", he whispered. "No one else gets this. Just you, baby". You traced lazy patterns on his lukewarm skin, your lips curving into a satisfied smirk. 

"I love you", he murmured, his voice tender. "Only you. Always you" “I love you too, Jinnie” “I’ll make sure you never doubt it again”.

Quick note: I don't think I l post any fics this week cause I have exams. But wait for me, next week I will come back with a surprise hehe

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊