#and also kink will always be tied to pride. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lupinqs · 2 months ago

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GHOSTFACE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: after a kill, paige decides she needs to fuck you senseless.

☆ ━ word count: 8.3K

☆ ━ warnings: sexual content (absolute pure filth, dom!paige, kinda bratty!reader, choking, blood kink, knifeplay, oral, fingering), oh yeah also murder

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: my halloween treat for you 🍬😜 on a serious note tho this is actually the freakiest nastiest shit i’ve ever written idk wtf i was on

THE CAR idles in the dark, the soft hum of the engine barely cutting through the late-night quiet of Storrs. You sit in the driver’s seat, the burner phone in your lap, your fingers drumming against the wheel as you steal a glance at the clock. It’s past midnight, the world outside wrapped in a blanket of stillness, but your heart is anything but calm. The recent killings on campus have the entire student body on edge, but no one would ever guess that the two of you—the school’s sweetheart basketball star and her quiet, unsuspecting girlfriend—are the ones behind it all.

Tonight, though, has a different kind of energy. It’s not just about the kill. It’s about what came before. Paige is sitting next to you in the passenger seat, her Ghostface costume on, the long black cloak pooling around her legs. Her game-day braids are still tied back into a ponytail, her skin still glowing with the leftover adrenaline from the UConn game earlier tonight. She’d killed it on the court—led the team to another win, the crowd chanting her name as she drained shot after shot.

Now, she’s about to kill in a very different way.

You feel a surge of excitement just thinking about it—about how she can seamlessly transition from the basketball star everyone worships to this… to your partner in something darker, something the two of you have created and mastered together. You’ve always been the one with the words, the voice on the phone that lures them in, taunting them, teasing them, until Paige steps in and finishes the job. She’s the executioner, but you set the stage.

“Still riding that high, huh?” you tease, your voice soft but playful as you glance over at her. You can see it in the way her leg bounces slightly, the leftover buzz of the game still coursing through her.

Paige turns to you, a smirk playing on her lips. “Can’t help it. We crushed ‘em tonight.” She adjusts the mask in her lap, her eyes flickering with excitement that’s just as much about what’s to come as it is about the win she’s still basking in. “You saw that last block, right? Perfect.”

You chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, it was good.”

She grins, her confidence practically radiating off her. It’s the same look she wears after every game—this electric mix of pride and hunger for more. But tonight, there’s a sharper edge to it, a different kind of hunger simmering beneath the surface. One that only you know about.

Paige leans over suddenly, her hand grabbing your jaw, pulling you into her, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s rough, heated. You kiss her back, matching her intensity, the burner phone nearly slipping from your lap as your hand grips the back of her neck. The adrenaline from the night, from her win, from the secret you both share—it all mixes into a heady, intoxicating rush.

She pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, her voice low and teasing. “Wish me luck, baby.”

Her smirk is wicked as she slips the Ghostface mask over her head, the familiar face now staring back at you. It’s eerie, unnerving—everything it’s supposed to be—but you know who’s behind it. Paige.

The sound of the car door opening is the only thing that breaks the silence as Paige steps out, her black cloak trailing behind her as she disappears into the night.

You wait a few moments, scrolling through your phone before deciding to get out. The door slams shut behind you with a sharp, metallic thud that echoes through the quiet night. The cold Connecticut wind bites at your face as you step away from the car, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. It’s freezing tonight, the kind of chill that seeps into your bones and lingers, but the thrill, the adrenaline of what’s about to happen, keeps you warm enough.

You shove your hands into your pockets, walking slowly toward the edge of the building. The apartment complex looms ahead, its brick exterior cold and silent, with only a few lights flickering from various windows. Your breath fogs up in the night air as you circle around, your shoes scraping against the asphalt, the distant sounds of traffic muffled by the wind.

You reach the back of the building, your body finding refuge against the brick wall. The rough texture scratches through your jacket as you lean against it, glancing around to make sure no one’s nearby. You’re careful, always careful. This isn’t your first time doing this, after all.

Paige is inside, probably already climbing the stairs, making her way to the bartender’s apartment. You can imagine her slipping through the shadows, as quiet and deadly as she is on the court, that same fierce determination in her eyes.

You pull a cigarette from your pocket, slipping it between your lips before lighting it, the flame briefly illuminating your face before you inhale deeply. The smoke curls in the cold air, the familiar burn in your lungs settling you, grounding you. This part of the night is always the same—the waiting. But it’s also the part you’ve come to appreciate. The anticipation, the patience it takes. You wait for Paige’s text, the one that’ll let you know she’s in position, ready for you to make the call.

The call that’ll lure tonight’s target straight into her arms.

The bartender. You think back to that night, just a few days ago, when you and Paige were out with her team. It was supposed to be a fun night, just you, Paige, and the rest of the girls, celebrating another win. Paige had been in her usual form—confident, charismatic, drawing everyone’s attention like she always does. But then she came into the picture. The fucking bartender.

The girl had been pouring drinks all night, flirting shamelessly with Paige, making little comments, smiling at her in a way that made your blood boil. Paige had stayed cool, giving her those polite but dismissive smiles, her arm draped around your waist as if to make it clear. But the bartender either didn’t care or didn’t notice, and it had pissed you off. You could tell Paige had noticed too, the way she tightened her grip on you, the way her eyes flicked to yours whenever the girl leaned in too close.

And, later that night, after a few drinks, the two of you had ended up in the bathroom, making out against the sink. Paige had been rougher than usual, her hands gripping your hips, her lips almost bruising yours, and in the heat of it, she’d pulled back, breathless, and whispered, “You wanna kill her?”

You hadn’t hesitated. Of course you wanted to kill her.

So, tonight, here you are. The plan is simple—Paige gets in, finds her, and you make the call. Then, Paige does what she does best. Only tonight, there’s something different. Paige had promised that you’d get the final stab. The last touch, the one that seals the deal, making it yours too.

You take another drag from the cigarette, exhaling slowly, your eyes scanning the street. Everything is still, nothing but the occasional flicker of movement behind closed windows. The night is quiet, like it’s holding its breath, waiting for what’s about to unfold.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you feel a thrill shoot up your spine. You pull it out and glance at the screen.

It’s Paige.

One word: Ready.

Your heart skips a beat, the cigarette forgotten as you flick it away, crushing it under your heel. Showtime. You slide the phone back into your hand, dialing the bartender’s number. It rings once, twice, before the click of the line picking up fills your ear. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint sound of background noise—some low music, maybe the TV—and then her voice comes through, light and unexpectedly cheery for how late it is.

“Hello?” The bartender’s tone is casual, friendly, like she’s used to people calling her at odd hours. It’s clear she’s not expecting anything out of the ordinary.

You suppress a grin, knowing exactly where this is headed. You always start the same way—light, teasing, pretending to be someone she might actually want to talk to. And as always, you speak through the voice changer, your voice distorted into something deeper, something unrecognizable.

“Hey,” you say, the voice changer making you sound almost playful. “You still up?”

There’s a pause on the other end, like she’s trying to place your voice. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Who’s this?”

You lean back against the wall, settling into your role. “Just someone who noticed you the other night. Thought I’d give you a call. You just started bartending, right? At Ted’s?”

Another pause, and you can almost hear the gears turning in her head. “Oh,” she says after a moment, her tone picking up with a hint of amusement. “Yeah, that’s me. How’d you get my number?”

You chuckle, low and smooth, keeping your tone flirtatious. “Got my ways.”

She laughs softly, clearly entertained. “Well, I guess you’re resourceful, huh? What’s your name?”

You sidestep the question, keeping her engaged, knowing that she’ll follow along if you give her just enough. “What’s yours?” you ask instead, turning it around on her.

She laughs again, a little softer this time, and you can picture her sitting up, maybe twirling her hair or playing with her phone. “Kelsey,” she offers.

“Kelsey,” you repeat, letting her name roll off your tongue, the voice changer making it sound almost sinister, but not enough for her to notice—yet. “Pretty name. You’re pretty good at pouring drinks too.”

She snorts. “Well, thanks. I do my best. You one of my regulars or something?”

You let the silence hang for a beat, then reply, “You could say that. I saw you with your hands all over that blonde girl the other night. What was her name? Paige?”

There’s a shift in her tone now, a slight hesitation. “Oh… yeah, I remember her,” she says, her voice a bit more careful, like she’s suddenly unsure of where this conversation is going. “You friends with her or something?”

You can feel her starting to get a little uneasy, and it makes you smile, the thrill of it building in your chest. You lean forward slightly, taking a deep breath before speaking again.

“Something like that,” you say, your voice low now, more serious. “You were really bold, flirting with her like that, Kelsey. I gotta say, I don’t think she appreciated it. And I definitely didn’t.”

There’s a beat of silence. A longer one this time. And when she speaks again, there’s a trace of nervous laughter in her voice. “Okay, uh… who the hell is this?”

You can hear her trying to play it off, but there’s a flicker of panic underneath. She’s starting to realize this isn’t a joke. This isn’t some casual late-night flirtation.

“You don’t remember me?” you ask, sounding almost innocent. “I was there that whole night.”

Her breath catches, and then she laughs again, this time more forced, trying to regain control. “Alright, this is getting weird,” she says. “I’m gonna hang up now—”

“Don’t.” Your voice cuts through sharply, commanding, and you hear the soft gasp she makes on the other end. “Don’t you fucking dare hang up.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of her breathing, shaky now, uneven. You can almost see her, sitting in her apartment, probably looking around, trying to figure out if this is a prank, if someone’s watching her. You know the thoughts running through her head. You’ve seen it all before.

“Look, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but—”

“I want you to stay on the phone,” you interrupt, your voice laced with cold amusement. “You’ve been real fun to talk to so far, Kelsey. Don’t ruin it now.”

You hear her exhale sharply, the panic setting in for real now. “This isn’t funny, okay? Just—just leave me alone, or I’m calling the cops.”

“Go ahead,” you say casually, starting to grin. “Call them. Tell them someone’s watching you.”

Her breath hitches again, and you can hear the unmistakable tremor in her voice. “Watching me? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Your smile widens. “Sweetheart,” you say softly, almost kindly, “I can see you.”

A small, broken gasp escapes her, and you hear her scramble, probably getting off the couch, rushing to lock her door or check her windows. The desperation in her voice is thick now. “Where are you? Where the fuck are you?”

You pause for just a second, letting the tension build, before finally answering, “Right behind you.”

There’s a crash on the other end of the line, followed immediately by a scream that’s cut short. You hear the sound of a body hitting the floor, the unmistakable sound of the phone dropping, and then—

The pleading starts.

“Please, no—no—” Kelsey’s voice is choked, panicked, and you can hear her gasping for air, her words coming out in sobs now. You can picture it perfectly—Paige towering over her, the blade glinting in the dim light of the apartment. The sound of a struggle follows, Kelsey’s voice growing more desperate, more terrified. “Please! I—”

And then the first stab.

It’s a wet, sickening sound, the blade sinking into flesh. Kelsey’s scream is sharp, but it quickly turns into a gargle as blood fills her throat. You hear her choking, trying to speak, to beg. There’s more stabbing, more squelching, before it stops, and all you can hear are weak, broken sobs.

For a few more seconds, there’s nothing but shuffling, the sound of Paige moving around, and then—quiet.

You wait, holding your breath, the anticipation still thrumming through you, until finally, you hear her voice. Paige’s voice, smooth, confident, and a little out of breath.

“Baby,” she says, and you can practically hear her smile through the phone, “you can come on up here now. She’s ready for you.”

You hang up before beginning to walk, keeping your pace quick as you stride into the apartment building. You’re trying to be fast—you don’t want her to fucking bleed out and die before you can finish her off.

The elevator ride up to her floor feels agonizingly slow, your foot tapping impatiently against the metal floor. When you finally reach her door, you stop for a second, taking a breath, checking the number to make sure it’s the right one. Your fist raises, knocking once—sharp and deliberate.

The door swings open almost immediately, and there she is—Paige, standing in the doorway, her figure backlit by the dim apartment lights. She’s still wearing the Ghostface costume, though the mask dangles casually from her hand now. Her braids, still in that game-day ponytail, are a little mussed, strands sticking out here and there, but it only adds to the chaotic allure of her right now. There’s blood splattered across her face, stark against her skin, and across her clothes too. She hasn’t even bothered to clean it up yet, and God, you can’t help but think she looks so fucking hot.

Her eyes are gleaming, and there’s that familiar smirk on her lips, a wild energy simmering underneath her calm exterior. She steps aside, motioning you inside with an almost nonchalant flick of her hand, like she’s inviting you into some casual dinner party, not a murder scene.

“Come on in,” Paige murmurs, her voice low, still tinged with excitement.

You step inside, your shoes making soft thuds against the hardwood floor. As you move past her, you catch the faintest whiff of blood—coppery, metallic—and it sends a rush through you, like a shot of adrenaline straight to your veins. Paige closes the door behind you, and you take in the scene in front of you.

Kelsey is on the floor, twitching in agony, her body twisted at an unnatural angle. She’s choking on her own blood, gasping and gargling as it pools in her mouth, her eyes wide with terror and pain. It’s clear she’s still alive, but just barely. Paige has done her job, but she’s left enough for you to finish.

Paige steps up behind you, her breath warm against your neck as she leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear. “She’s all yours,” she whispers, pressing the bloody knife into your hand. The blade is still warm, slick with Kelsey’s blood, and the weight of it in your hand sends a thrill through you.

You take the knife, your fingers tightening around the hilt as you approach Kelsey’s broken, twitching form. Her eyes, glazed over with fear and pain, manage to lock onto yours as you kneel beside her. The sound of her labored breathing is all you can hear, the wet gurgle of blood in her throat. You smile down at her, a sweet, almost tender expression crossing your face.

“Hi, Kelsey,” you say softly, your voice gentle, as if you’re greeting an old friend.

You think you hear her try to form the word please, but it’s lost in the thick, choking blood that fills her throat. Her body jerks slightly, like she’s trying to move, trying to plead, but it’s useless now.

You bring the knife to her face, the tip of the blade tracing lightly along her cheek, not even hard enough to cut. It’s almost affectionate, the way you drag the metal across her skin. But then, with a quick, practiced motion, you bring the knife down to her throat, slitting it cleanly, efficiently. There’s a brief spray of blood—splashing up onto your face—as her body convulses once, twice, and then slumps against the floor, lifeless.

“Fucking bitch,” you mutter under your breath, watching the last bit of life drain from her body. You stay there for a moment, just staring at her, taking in the scene—the blood, the broken, twisted limbs, the silence that settles over the room now that she’s dead.

You’re still staring when you feel Paige behind you again, pulling you up to stand. Her hands slide around your waist, her front pressing against your back. One of her big hands splays across your stomach, holding you close, while her other finds your wrist, gently taking the knife from your hold.

“That was so hot, baby,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with admiration and lust, her breath right against your ear.

You lean back into her touch, your body relaxing against hers as she starts to pepper soft kisses along your neck, her lips trailing up your jawline. The tension in the room shifts from the violence of the kill to something more intimate, more charged. You close your eyes, letting the sensation of her mouth on your skin, her hands on your body, wash over you.

Paige’s teeth graze against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck before she begins to suck, hard enough to leave a mark. You gasp softly, the sensation heightened as her hands slowly slide up your arms, fingers brushing the fabric of your zip-up hoodie. In one smooth motion, she tugs it down, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your red, lacy tank top. Ironically, the color is a perfect match for the blood spattered across the room, across both of you.

Her hands move to your shoulders first, but then one of them drifts lower, grabbing at your chest, squeezing your tit through the thin lace, pulling your back tighter against her front. You feel caged in her hold, a gasp escaping your lips as her grip grows firmer. But the real shock comes when you feel the teasing touch of the knife, the cold metal ghosting along the skin of your arm. Paige trails it down, tracing the sliver of bare skin just below where your tank top ends and just above where your sweatpants begin.

And then, with deliberate precision, Paige slashes the knife upward, cutting clean through the middle of your tank top. The fabric falls open, revealing your skin to the cool air and the warmth of her breath on your neck. You whine softly, “P, that was expensive.”

Paige just chuckles darkly, her fingers tightening around your breast, thumb brushing over your now pert nipple, as she whispers, “I’ll buy you another one.” With that, she pulls the torn fabric off you, letting it drop to the ground, leaving you completely topless. You weren’t wearing a bra beneath the tank, and the sudden exposure makes you shiver, but Paige’s body pressed against yours keeps you warm.

In one swift motion, she’s spinning you around, pressing her lips against yours, kissing you with a rough intensity. You can taste the blood on her lips, probably a mixture of the blood spatters on both of your faces. Her hand grips the side of your neck, holding you firmly in place, while her other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. Her palm presses into your lower back, and the cold handle of the knife digs into your skin, a reminder of everything you’ve just done together.

Your hands move instinctively to her ponytail, fingers threading through her braids before you give a slight tug. The moan that escapes from your lips is muffled by her kiss, but it’s enough to make Paige groan against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you. You pulling her hair seems to set something off in her, fueling that dark intensity behind her eyes. She bites at your bottom lip, tugging lightly as she starts to push you back, guiding you towards the couch.

When the back of your legs hit the edge, you lose your balance and fall back onto the cushions, and Paige doesn’t waste a second. She’s immediately on top of you, her knee slipping between your legs, nudging against your clothed core with a teasing pressure. Her hand is already at your chest, kneading your breast while her other hand wraps around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you wince—but in the way you like. You can feel the heat building inside you as her fingers press into the sides of your neck, right where your pulse pounds beneath your skin.

Paige’s mouth meets yours again, more demanding this time, her tongue pushing past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that matches your own. The pressure of her thumb on your pulse point makes your head swim, the sensation mixing pleasure with just the right hint of pain. You moan again, this time louder, your hips instinctively shifting under her as you crave more of that pressure between your legs.

She pulls away for a moment, just enough to trail her tongue along the edge of your lips, teasing and slow. Her tongue slides down to your chin, licking away the last remnants of the bartender’s blood from earlier, and it sends a shiver down your spine. The metallic tang still lingers as she leans back in to kiss you again, the taste of blood filling both of your mouths, and it only makes you want more.

And then you begin to feel something cold and sharp press against your skin. It takes you a second to realize what it is—she’s taken the knife again, and now the cold, wet metal is sliding over the valley between your breasts. The feeling sends a shiver through your body, and you gasp into her mouth as she presses the blade against your skin, wiping the blood from earlier onto you.

She pulls back slightly, her darkened eyes focused on the trail of blood she’s smearing onto your chest. The sight alone makes your breath catch. Paige’s lips curve into a smirk as she watches your reaction, clearly enjoying the way your body tenses beneath her. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets her mouth move downward, trailing kisses along your collarbones, lingering there as her hot breath mingles with the coolness of the blood.

“God, you look so fucking good like this,” Paige murmurs against your skin, her voice low and gravelly. Her lips are teasing, pressing soft, feather-light kisses that make your heart pound harder.

Then she lowers her head further, until her mouth is right between your breasts, where the blood is smeared in a messy line. You feel her tongue dart out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe across your skin, cleaning the blood off in one long motion. The sensation makes you arch your back, a soft moan slipping from your lips as her tongue glides over your skin.

Her knee presses harder between your legs, creating a delicious friction that has you biting your lip, trying to stifle another moan. But it’s impossible to keep quiet when Paige is so close, her body practically overwhelming yours with heat and pressure. You grip her back, nails digging into her shirt as she keeps licking the blood off your chest, the knife still cold in her hand as it brushes against your skin.

Paige chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through you as she moves her lips to one of your breasts, taking your nipple into her mouth. Her tongue swirls around the sensitive peak, teasing, sucking lightly at first. Your whole body reacts, your breath catching in your throat, and a gasp escapes you as she bites down gently, enough to send a shock of pleasure through you.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” she murmurs, her voice muffled against your skin as she switches to your other breast, her mouth relentless. “So perfect and pretty for me, baby.”

Her words send another wave of heat through you, and you can’t help but moan again, louder this time, your body arching into hers. The pressure of her knee between your legs intensifies, and you grind down instinctively, craving more of that contact.

Paige’s mouth leaves your breast, trailing wet kisses down your abdomen. Her tongue flicks out, teasing along your ribs, before she starts sucking at your skin hard enough that you know she’s leaving marks—evidence of where she’s claimed you, the sensation sending sharp tingles through you.

Her hands move with purpose, finding the waistband of your sweatpants. You don’t even realize what she’s doing until you feel her fingers digging into your pocket, pulling something out before she slides your pants down your legs, leaving you in nothing but the lacy red thong that matches the blood-smeared mess around you and that did match your now-ruined tank top.

Paige takes her time, her gaze dark and heated as she admires the way the lace clings to your skin. She reaches out, hooking her finger under the waistband of the thong, pulling it back teasingly. The pressure is light, but it’s enough to make you shiver as she flicks it back against your skin with a soft snap. Paige hums, clearly pleased by your reaction, her smirk growing as her eyes meet yours.

You’re about to say something, maybe tease her back, when you notice what’s in her hand. It takes a second for it to register, but then you realize it’s the voice changer. The same one you use to make all your taunting phone calls.

Paige brings it up to her lips, turning it on with a flick of her thumb. “Do you wanna play a game?” Her voice comes out distorted, deep and twisted in that familiar way, making your heart race with a mix of excitement and surprise.

Immediately, you reach for the voice changer, shaking your head. “Babe, that’s my thing—” you protest, because it is. You’re the one who always calls the shots. You’re the one who makes the phone calls, who controls the game. Not her.

But Paige is quicker. She pulls back just enough to keep it out of your reach, sitting up on her knees and holding the voice changer above her head, far enough that you’d have to try harder to grab it. She cocks her head, a playful yet dangerous glint in her eyes. “Ah-ah,” she clicks her tongue, the sound sharp and commanding. Her expression makes it clear—if you try to take it again, you’re not going to like what happens next.

You lower your hand, your heart pounding in anticipation, your body already responding to the shift in control. Paige’s eyes stay locked on yours, her smile widening as she brings the voice changer back to her lips.

“I said,” she repeats, her voice low and sultry before flicking it back on, “do you wanna play a game?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real defiance behind it, just attitude—the kind Paige loves and hates equally. “What kinda game?” you ask, the challenge evident in your tone.

Paige’s grin grows, dark and wicked. She’s clearly enjoying this. “Oh, it’s simple,” she begins, her voice turning to a dangerous purr. “You’re gonna follow my rules. You do exactly what I say, and maybe I’ll let you finish.”

You scoff a little at that, trying to keep up the act of being unimpressed, but there’s no denying the way her words send a surge of heat straight through you. “And what if I don’t?” you counter, testing her.

Paige’s eyes flash, her smirk growing more predatory, the same look she gets before she kills. She leans in close, the voice changer still in hand as she trails the back of the knife down your stomach, teasingly slow. “Then I’ll make sure you beg for it,” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin.

You feel your throat go dry at the sensation of the knife, her breath, the words she says. You swallow, staying quiet.

“You like that, yeah?” Paige says, her voice dropping lower as she presses the flat of the knife against your stomach, the cool metal sending shivers down your spine. “When I’m the one tellin’ you what to do, when I make you all desperate and shi.”

Paige continues to move the knife down, grazing along the edge of your thong, the metal tracing the fabric lightly as she keeps talking through the voice changer. “Here’s what we’re gon’ do,” she starts, giving you a pointed look. “You’re gonna keep your hands right here,” she instructs, using her own hand to bring your wrists together and pulling them over your head, resting behind you against the armrest of the couch. “And you’re not gon’ move them. If you do… I’ll make sure it’s not pretty, ‘kay?” The implication is enough to make your breath hitch.

You stare up at her, heart racing, but you don’t argue. The way she’s looking at you—hungry and in control—makes you want to give in. To let her push you to the edge.

“And you’re gonna beg,” Paige adds, her voice husky, the grin on her face positively wicked. “Beg me to fuck you. Beg me to let you cum. You’re gonna tell me how much you need it.”

Your lips part, but before you can respond, Paige presses the knife lightly against your skin again, the threat clear but enticing.

“Do you wanna play?” she asks once more, using the voice changer. But this time, it’s not really a question. It’s more of a demand.

You don’t say anything for a long moment, staying silent. But Paige won’t have that. She takes the handle of the knife, lightly stroking your clothed clit with it, keeping her eyes on your face. Your hips buck up involuntarily at the feeling, and your gaze lands on hers, catching sight of her waiting expression. You sigh in discomfort, wanting more, shifting your hips a little. However, you know she won’t give you any more of what you need if you don’t agree to play her stupid fucking game. So, you kiss your teeth and mutter, “Fine. Let’s play.”

Paige immediately grins at your response, clearly eager for some more excitement (as if her night hasn’t been filled with enough of that already), tossing the voice changer across the room. She leans down, pressing her lips against your hipbone as she twists the knife back around to the sharp end, trailing the tip along your thong teasingly. You feel yourself shudder a little bit at the feeling, glancing down, chin pressing into your chest as you try to get a better look.

And then Paige is effectively ruining more of your clothing, tearing the fabric of your thong apart with the knife. It splits open, revealing your glistening cunt to the blonde.

“Paige—” you begin to protest annoyedly, irritated with her affinity of slashing your clothes apart tonight.

However, her head snaps up to look at you at the sound of your attitude leaking back into your voice. She glares, eyes narrowing as she tells you, “Shut the fuck up. Ion wanna hear none of your attitude bullshit tonight.”

You fight the urge to scoff at her, instead opting to stay quiet. You watch as she hooks her fingers around the flimsy fabric of what’s left of your thong before tossing them to the side, leaving you completely naked before her. Before you can even really process what’s going to happen next, she’s leaning in, her hot breath landing between your legs. But instead of her tongue or her lips making contact with your folds, it’s Paige’s teeth—biting at your clit. You gasp at the sensation, a little taken aback at the mixture of sting and serenity, and you can’t help but let your hand fall to her head to hold her there.

She won’t have that, though.

The feeling of your hand in her hair makes her pull back immediately, making you lose any feeling between your legs. You whimper a little at the loss, but she doesn’t care, slapping your hand away from her head. She grabs at the wrist of the same hand she’s just hit, eyes flashing at you as she pulls your arm back above your head, locking your wrists together with her fingers.

“The fuck did I tell you?” she snaps, glaring pointedly, irritation clearly seeping into her. “Keep your hands up there. Don’t fuckin’ move ’em unless I say so.”

You glare back at her, equally annoyed and turned on by her demands. She’s staring expectantly at you, waiting for a response, her nails digging into your wrists slightly. Eventually, you roll your eyes and cave, muttering, “Fine, Jesus.”

You watch as her eyes narrow at the bratty tone of your voice, though—surprisingly—she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t snap at you again to behave yourself. But she also doesn’t do anything. She removes her hands from your wrists, making sure you keep them up there, but, after that, she doesn’t make herself useful in any way. Instead, she leans back a little, her body still between your parted legs, just staring. She keeps her lips pursed as her eyes flick between your face and your glistening cunt that’s on full display before her, just inches away. You shift your hips a little, hoping she’ll get the message and do something for you, but she doesn’t. She just keeps watching you, eyes tracking the movement of your hips, keeping herself still.

You whine a little, nails digging into the couch armrest above you. “What’re you waiting for?” you finally retort, very annoyed by this point.

However, that annoyance seems to seep out of you pretty quickly as you feel the tip of the knife blade dig into your hip bone, just enough that if Paige pushed it any harder, it would certainly draw blood. You swallow a little, looking up at the blonde, trying to hold your ground.

“Enough with the fuckin’ attitude, ma,” she says firmly, clearly as tired of your shit as you are of here. You feel her begin to trail the blade along your skin slightly, before she’s adding, “And what—you already forgot one of my rules?”

You furrow you eyebrows at the question, not sure what she’s referring to. All you can really feel is the heat between your legs, and the stark cold metal of the knife against your skin.

She clicks her tongue at your obvious confusion, tipping the knife against you, breaking the skin ever so slightly. It doesn’t really hurt, just stings some, and you look down to see the tiniest bit of blood surrounding the cut she’s made, a hint of crimson tainting the silver of the knife. And then Paige is crawling a little forward, so that she’s hovering over you, and you feel yourself shiver beneath her.

She leans closer, her breath hot against your cheek, the cold metal of the knife now grazing along the curve of your jaw, before slowly, deliberately, moving toward your lips. She traces the blade across your lower lip, and you feel the wetness of your own blood against it.

“Open,” she orders, her tone firm, eyes alight with a mixture of control and something more primal.

Your heart races, but you do as she says, parting your lips slightly. The flat of the blade presses against your tongue, leaving the metallic taste of your blood in your mouth. She’s watching you do it intensely, pupils blown and eyes focused. And then she’s pulling it back, teasing you, leaving your body tense and wanting. Her lips quirk into a smirk, clearly pleased with the way your body reacts beneath hers, the power she holds over you.

Then she straightens, pulling the knife away, her expression both playful and commanding as she watches you intently. Her voice is soft, but dripping with authority, “You gotta beg for it, baby.”

You bite your lip, staring defiantly up at Paige, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing you beg. You can see the flicker of frustration in her eyes as her grip on the knife tightens. She leans in, her breath fanning across your skin, but you hold firm, a smirk playing on your lips despite the tension crackling between you. You’re playing with fire, and you know it.

It’s right then where Paige’s patience snaps. Her hand shoots up to grab your jaw, her fingers pressing into your skin, hard enough to hurt some. “You’re being a real bitch tonight,” she husks, eyes narrowing as her thumb brushes over your lower lip. “I think I might just have to punish you for it.”

You can feel your heart race at her words, but you refuse to back down, a flicker of defiance still lingering in your expression, a slight smirk still pulling up your lips.

Paige tilts her head, her grip tightening slightly. “Oh, you think this is funny? You think you can just act like this and get away with it?” she continues, her voice low and controlled, though you can feel the anger bubbling underneath. “Fine. If you won’t beg, then you don’t get to make a single sound.”

You feel your eyes widen without thinking about it, realizing what she’s getting at, but she only smirks at your reaction.

“If you make any noise,” Paige says, leaning in close, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, “then I won’t let you finish. Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. Not until you learn how to fucking behave.” Her voice is dripping with authority, every word hanging between you like a challenge.

You swallow hard, trying to steel yourself, but the way she’s looking at you—like she’s already won this round—makes it difficult. You know she’s pushing your limits, testing just how far she can take this.

She doesn’t wait for you to answer, instead crawling back down your body, keeping your thighs spread open, resting herself between them. Immediately getting to work, probably impatient herself, her mouth attaches to the skin of your inner thigh, sucking harshly, certainly enough to leave a mark for tomorrow. And then she’s kissing her way up to the cut she’s imprinted on your hip, ghosting her tongue along the small sliver of slashed skin and the blood that rests with it. It stings, and you hear yourself gasp, whimpering at the feeling. She’s not fond of that, though, wanting you to stay quiet as she’s told you, so she pinches your thigh hard. You fight to not let the noise that’s burrowed itself in your throat get through, swallowing it down. If you behave, you’ll get what you want—so you might as well just let her have her fun.

She’s getting closer to where you need her, her nose brushing against your clit as she ghosts her lips along the side of your pussy, teasing you. You shift your hips slightly, desperate for the friction you’ve been needing, but her hands grab at each hip bone, holding you down so you stay still.

And then she’s diving in, pressing her tongue to your aching cunt, licking a long stripe right up between your folds. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the long awaited pleasure, keeping silent just as she told you to. She presses her mouth against you completely, enough to feel her every breath on you, rolling her tongue right against your clit.

Paige moans a little against you, sending vibrations through you that have your legs shaking. As she continues rolling her tongue in that famous, miraculous rhythm of hers against your bundle of nerves, one of her hands reaches up to your tit, thumb brushing along the nipple and pinching it.

You bite your lip, finally being a good girl and listening to Paige’s demands like she’s wanted this whole time. You stay silent, though your breaths come quicker, faster, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath Paige’s hand.

She glances up at you, smirking against you as she catches sight of the beads of sweat forming along your skin, your flushed face, the way you’re fighting to stay quiet. Her tongue slides along the expanse of your slit before slipping inside of you, making your thighs quiver and a tiny gasp to escape your lips. Paige glares up at you warningly at that, making sure you remember well that if you’re not quiet, you’re not cumming.

And then she’s returning her focus back to your pussy, sliding her tongue in and out of you a couple times in a slow rhythm. You can tell she’s enjoying this by the way her eyes slip shut, brows furrowing in concentration. She then brings her mouth back up to your clit, flicking her tongue up and down, up and down, up and down, in a way that makes you see stars. You dig your nails into your palms, squeezing your eyes shut at the euphoric feeling.

“Shit,” Paige mumbles as she pulls away, staring at your soaking cunt before adding to the wetness, spitting on you. She watches her saliva slide between your folds and then leans in to lap it up with her tongue. She moans against you, probably at the taste, saying, “You’re gonna kill me with this pussy, baby. Could eat you forever.”

You let out a long, shaky breath at the words, scrunching your face up a little she sucks on your clit. Hard. You feel her teeth scrape against it, too, and you swear your nails are going to draw blood if you dig them any deeper into your skin.

Breathing heavily, she suddenly pulls up and sits on her knees between your legs, letting go of your hips and pushing your legs further apart. Looking down between them, Paige is suddenly thrusting three of her fingers into you without any warning. You can’t help it—it makes you shudder out something between a moan and a gasp, exclaiming, “Fuck!”

Paige won’t have that for a second, immediately pulling her fingers out of you to slap your pussy. “Shut the fuck up,” she tells you, biting along your skin as she slowly crawls up to your face again. “Can’t ever fuckin’ listen to me, can you?” she asks, her fingers trailing to your clit, circling it harshly. It makes your legs shudder and shake and you feel your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Couldn’t help it,” you murmur, gasping as you feel the heat in your stomach begin to rise, the coil getting ready to snap.

Paige’s fingers find their way back inside you, all three of them pumping. Your pussy squelches with her relentless pace, the sounds beyond filthy. Her other hand has found it’s way back to your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck, your pulse racing against her hand. “Don’t lie,” she snaps, eyes flitting between your face and the way her fingers are thrusting into you with absolutely no mercy. “You’re not a bitch, I’ve seen you take worse.”

You whimper a little at her words and it only makes her fingers speed up, sliding in and out and then curling in a come hither motion, making you see stars. “Y’know, Kelsey wanted to fuck me,” Paige taunts. Your eyes flash open at the words, the same flare of jealousy and anger rushing into you as remember the night at the bar. Realistically, you know you shouldn’t still care, especially as your gaze darts to see a quick glance of Kelsey’s dead body across the room. But, still, Paige’s words send a rush of irritation through you. She can tell, and she smirks, her thumb now abusing your clit as her fingers continue their pace. “You think she coulda kept quiet? Think she woulda been a good girl for me? She seemed very sweet.”

“She’s dead,” you grunt out, trying not to let Paige’s words get in the way of the feeling of her fingers in you, on you. “So I guess you’ll never know.”

That makes Paige’s hand squeeze your neck a little, enough for you to cry out at the dual sensation of that and her thrusting fingers. It’s all getting too much, the heat building as Paige’s pace keeps steady, your hips rising to meet her digits as they pump in and out. “Fuck, you make me crazy,” the blonde says, her lips trailing to your neck to suck a mark against your skin. “Such a brat, baby.”

The sensation between your legs has you forgetting Paige’s rules, and you think that at this point, she’s forgotten them, too, because your hands are moving from above your head to tangle in her ponytail, tugging as her fingers curl inside you. She doesn’t do anything to stop you, instead humming against your neck.

“P,” you manage to gasp out, voice shaking. You’re faintly aware that you’re sweating, your hair sticking sticking to your damp forehead and neck, your whole body pulsing with heat. “Paige, ‘m gonna cum.”

Paige nods against you, her tongue swiping against the hollow of your throat, her fingers thrusting and thrusting and thrusting. Vaguely, you wonder if her hand is cramping yet. “I know, baby,” she says a little breathlessly, against your skin. “Come on, ma, give it to me. Wanna feel it bad.”

You let out a shaky cry, hands finding their way beneath Paige’s shirt, nails digging into her back, certainly leaving scratch marks. Every thrust, every breath that Paige takes against your skin—it’s all too much, and you can feel herself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, the pleasure building with every second.

And then you’re moaning out, “Oh my God—fuck!” as the coil within you snaps, your back arching against Paige’s hand, your heart racing. “Fuck,” you say again, quieter this time, trying to blink away the stars in your vision.

Your breath comes in quick bursts as you slowly come down from your high, feeling a euphoric mixture of adrenaline and warmth coursing through your veins. You lean back against the couch cushions, now damp with blood and your own arousal, your skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Paige presses further into you, her breath hot and feverish against your neck, and you feel her say your name against your skin. And then she’s slowly pulling her fingers out of your soaking cunt, trailing them up to your mouth as she draws back slightly.

She slips them past your lips and you let her, mouth sucking her fingers clean, tongue gliding along her digits. The way her eyes glaze over watching you do it, lust filling her pupils, makes you think that you’re about to get fucked into oblivion for a round two. But then her gaze trails somewhere behind your head—probably to Kelsey’s dead body, if you had to guess—and she’s sighing, resigned, as she pulls her fingers from your mouth, tangling them in your hair. She presses her lips against yours firmly for just a moment, before she’s pulling away, saying, a smirk pulling the corners of her lips up, “We gotta go before they catch us.”

You frown a little, pouting as you say, “Fun’s over.”

She shakes her head slightly at you, still smirking as she responds, “Nah, when we get home, we can have all the fun you want.” And then she’s reaching down onto the floor, grabbing the ghostface mask and slipping it over your head, covering your face. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You slip into your clothes quickly, watching as Paige grabs the knife and checks around the room to see if either of you have forgotten anything. Once you’re ready, the two of you open the apartment door, leaving your mess for someone to find later. However, you and Paige leave, she of course does not forget to call out into the empty apartment, “Bye, Kelsey!”

The door slams shut behind you, and, obviously, there is no response back.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #uconn wbb #uconn #wbb #uconn huskies #paige bueckers smut #wcbb #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fluff #ghostface #wlw

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vifilms · 3 months ago

Text

❝ TASTE ME WHEN SHE'S KISSING YOU ❞

pairing. abby anderson x fem!reader x owen!pissoff

TASTE ME WHEN SHE'S KISSING YOU, being friends with benefits with abby is no easy feat, continuously finding yourself at odds with what you know is logic and a heavy heart but at tess and joel’s wedding, push comes to shove. putting you and abby between a rock and a hard place.

★ warnings y disclaimers. eighteen+, wedding!au, cheating, friends to lovers (kinda?), abby in a fucking suit, lowkey!mean abby, smidge of sub!abby, slight daddy!kink, angst + fluff + smut ps the whole trifecta, light bondage (r!tied up), fingering, 69ing, pussy munching, anal teasing, mean!abby, sub!reader, reader desc. feminine, anti-owen energy, lowkey mel slander.

wc. 21k+

hi guys! it's finally here! m'so proud of this one created with my love, @absfawn. this baby is our pride and joy, we had the most fun writing this together and hope y'all enjoy it as well. if you like it, let us know! feedback truly means a lot. anyways, happy reading!

Things have always been challenging for both of you. From the moment you met, friendship blossomed, sustaining for years, longer than Abby expected. She’s grateful for you but doesn’t know how you still tolerate her. An inkling can be found in the pit of her stomach, and every time her gaze catches you, there’s a hope that terrifies her. Almost a promise or a future she knows she wants but doesn’t think she can ever have.

It’s been like this since the moment the two of you met.

She remembers the first time she spoke of you, with Tess and Joel at the monthly dinner they had every first of the month, the light in her bright blues putting the full moon to shame. While Joel just chucked it up to a blossoming friendship, Tess could see something different — something bright. It shocked Tess even more when Abby brought Owen when she came to visit and not you. Her shine didn’t exist when Abby was with her boyfriend, but it did with you. Just a few months later, Tess met you, and she chucked when she saw how Abby couldn’t keep your eyes off of you. She constantly tended to you, ensuring you were comfortable, or the not-so-subtle hand rubbing your thigh sweetly.

Joel was clueless about the behavior, but Tess could see it clearly as day.

Tess had never seen Abby so full of joy, not since her mother had so tragically been taken away from her.

Ever since her mother’s passing, Tess has been the one to take her under her protective wing. She was one of the very few Abby couldn’t count on, gracious to be there to hold her hand and wipe her tears when she lost her mother in her early teen years. As much as Abby loves her Father, the moments she misses her mom are more vigorous than one would like to admit. The specific way she would braid her golden hair or the tender kiss she would leave on her temple before she wished Abby goodnight. Her age didn’t matter; her mom never let her feel unloved from the moment she held her as a newborn. Abby’s curious eyes were all it took for mom to be enamored with her daughter.

When her grades started slipping, and her absence at school became apparent, her soccer coach snapped her out. She let Abby talk about her mom when her Father, Jerry, was too weak to discuss the elephant in the room. Abby never blames him; she is the love of his life, and he mourns her every day. He looks at her bright blues, and the touch of green surrounding the irises reflects her mothers. She also talked about how soft spoken Abby is, how particular she is with her tidiness, and how she learned to braid her hair like her mother used to.

Ever since then, the bond they shared nearly became unbreakable.

Tess never had a child of her own, and she never could either, but with Abby, it almost felt like she was one of her own—the adoptive daughter she didn’t even know she needed but couldn’t imagine her life without. Even if Abby has to take a flight to see her, they never miss their Sunday afternoon call, where they catch up on the nonsense in both of their lives.

It’s one of the most incredible comforts Abby has. She’ll treasure it for as long as she has Tess, her second chance at a mother’s love, she likes to call it. However, Abby couldn’t get away with hiding in the dark sometimes because of how close they were. Especially when she brought you over for the holidays for the first time.

Two Years Earlier…

“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Owen or you and her, but don’t mess it up with her.” Tess mumbles as they watch from a distance. There you are, Joel, and you, her Father, Jerry, preparing Thanksgiving dinner. You look happy. It brings a delightful smile to Abby. It feels right, you being here with her, how easy all of it is except for why it’s so painfully not.

“Yeah, I might be putting my foot in my mouth with this one,” Abby admits. She sips on the chilled beer you brought her a few moments ago.

“Something is going on, isn’t it? Showing up with her instead of Owen is surely saying something.” Tess huffs out ironically. “Can’t imagine one like that is too keen on someone other than himself taking up time in your life.”

“I suppose something is going on,” Abby says so quickly that Tess almost misses it.

“Abigail Anderson.”

“I know! Okay, I’ll stop it. I just—” She pauses to look at you, making an effort with her Father as Jerry’s probably telling you some old joke you’ve already heard three too many times, but you humor him.

“You love her.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t even, Abigail.” The older woman bites back. Abby opens her mouth to say a line of defense, but it says so openly that she thinks a fly might go ahead and make a home.

Tess has always been a no bullshit kind of woman. She was never one to beat around the bush; she always directly called out Abby on her own shit. When it stunk, she would be the first to tell her.

“I don’t have to tell you how this looks, do I?”

“Nope. We’re crystal clear.”

Dinner goes off without a hitch. There is roasted ham—the biggest ham Abby has ever seen—mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, beets, sweet potatoes, and her favorite—apple pie. Everyone digs in rather quickly. The Southern meal does wonders for the heart but silences the makeshift family. Abby can hear Joel moan as he stuffs his mouth full of potatoes.

Her dad keeps the conversation light, asking where Ellie is. Apparently, her flight got snowed in. She missed the original flight due to not setting an alarm, resulting in oversleeping an hour past her flight. Everyone is quietly talking when you notice some gravy dribbling down her lips.

“Here, Abs, let me get it.” Instead of using your napkin to clean up the mess, your thumb wipes it off her pink and pouty lips, doing it all with a sweet smile on your face. As if it had never happened, you dig back into your food.

You miss it.

Tess gives Abby a deadly look, her eyes bugging at the mannerisms. How close the two of you must be that Abby, who isn’t one for physical touch, let you do something so intimate and so easily at that. Raising her eyebrows as if to signal if it genuinely happened, Abby measly shrugged at Tess as if it was no big deal.

The rest of the night, Abby was mindful of how close they got to you, but you seemed to really not give a fuck. After you were done eating, your head resting on her shoulder as you lightly engaged in conversation, the food doing its job, nearly subduing you into a small comatose.

No more than a few hours later, you have a glass of wine as you sit next to Abby, joking with Joel as you rub the back of her muscular back. Drawing random patterns on her spine as she nearly moans from the tingles sent through your body.

This is everything Abby wants at her fingertips; you are everything she’s ever wanted. The way you’re so soft, delicate when you handle other people, how when you comfort her, it’s the warmest she’s felt in god knows how long. She thinks of Owen and how he makes her feel, but it doesn’t make her feel anything at times, not the intensity she feels in the rapid beat of her heart each time she feels your comforting touch or your sweet voice dripping honey all over her.

Life has always been in black and white — good and bad choices for her.

But none of this seemed to be that simple.

Especially since she’s the said person making the questionable decisions. Desperately, she finds herself forced to think of it each time Tess throws her a glance each time you do something entirely too intimate for a platonic, casual friend. Nothing about this is purely a token of friendship, but the only person questioning it is the woman who knows her like the back of her hand.

The last night she’s there, her urges give in, especially when you’re begging for it. It’s not even thirty minutes since you went to the guest bedroom, separate from her own, and you’re knocking on her door. Your pupils are dilated, thighs rubbing against one another, your perky tits visible through the think tank top and pajama shorts you’re wearing.

It isn’t long before you’re in her bed, deliciously placed on top of her with you, with your slick folds gliding against her. Even with as good as it feels, how close Abby knows she’s getting, the tight knot in her stomach begging to be released, she savors the moment. It’s a slight tick she has, watching you as you use her body to feel the euphoric rise. The headboard creaks as you roll your hips. Abby should care that someone might hear them, but when your pace increases, her body twitches, and she loses control, finding it difficult for anything else to cross her mind. The irresistible high Abby rides sends you into your own, your body collapsing on top of her.

With the palm of her hands, she soothes your back, rubbing her hands up and down your spine, your body shaking from the orgasm.

Maybe it’s the holidays or seeing you with her family. The words she desperately wants to say threaten to spill over her tongue. Almost as if you can sense it, your lips find hers as you reach backward to grab her hands, intertwining them with your own before pinning them over her head. A flutter fills the blonde as you kiss along her jaw sweetly before finding her lips again, telling her everything you know the both of you can’t say.

’Cause the reality is Abby isn’t yours to hold, but the two of you will keep pretending like she is. You fall asleep cuddled into her frame, your soft breath grazing into her neck, sending shivers down her spine. Just like every night this happens, Abby can’t sleep.

From a very young age, Abby has always been one to worry, keeping her up all night. Her mother had to convince her to take melatonin, which dissolves on her tongue just so she could get sleep throughout grade school. As the years passed, her life became more complicated, and the amount of sleep she got seemed to decrease substantially.

Carefully, she untangles her limbs, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber. She blows a puff of smoke, swinging back and forth on the porch swing, and the moonlight kisses her cheeks. As much as Abby likes to deny it, the holidays make her miss home, but she’s found another thousands of miles away that’s hard to give up.

Of course, Tess can’t sleep either.

She takes the bud from Abby’s grip and takes a hit herself.

“You know these are so bad for you.” Tess shakes her head, the draw she has peeping through.

“Not bad enough for you, huh?” Abby giggles as Tess rolls her eyes. If she looks closely enough, she sees the little thirteen year old mama’s girl before her eyes. The sentiment nearly makes Tess’ eyes water. It’s been such a long time since she’s seen the bright-eyed athlete this blissful. “Guess not, Abigail.”

“Jerry was talkin’ about you and her after y’all retreated for the night.” Abby’s eyes quirk up, her body language becoming rigid at the mention of you. She tries to ease her nerves, taking another hit as she allows the cannabis to infiltrate her lungs, almost holding a candle to the insatiable addiction she has for you. “Oh yeah?”

She passes the joint back to Tess as she takes another hit, blowing it into the crispy fall wind as it kisses the oak tree hovering over the house. Abby isn’t sure why it puts her own edge or why there is a need to protect you from any further suspicions. The status of her current relationship, the one she has with you, why Owen isn’t here with her, and why you are. It’s an answer she doesn’t really have yet.

“Less arguing with her than Owen. It’s what he joked about, nothing serious. Unwound that neck of yours, thought you’d be less tense with all that creaking.”

“Tess!”

“What? I’m old, not deaf.”

Abby can’t help the blush creeping up her neck, crawling to her freckled cheeks. She doesn’t want to smile or expose her feelings about you more than tonight, but she fails. It creeps on her just like you have. The only thing she’s sure of is it won’t halt anytime soon. This deep hole she’s dug herself in just gets her closer to hell, but sinning has never felt so euphoric. She feels it every time your sweet taste dances on her tongue or your giggle is so light it fills everyone in the room with joy. Her favorite has to be your smile. Abby swears she’s seeing an angel for the first time.

“Just say it. If you can’t tell anyone else, tell me. You can’t tell her right now, or that girl will run in another direction, leaving you with that sorry excuse for a man by your side.” Tess huffs as Abby rolls her eyes.

“He’s not that bad.”

“He must be that bad if you’re hooking up with someone who isn’t your boyfriend, Abigail.” Abby’s mouth opens, and no words manage to crawl out as she looks at Tess with wide eyes. Sure, she was a blunt and honest person most of the time, but she could have saved Abby the trouble of being so fucking honest for just a moment. Just to save her already breaking heart.

“S’not what it is—”

“No?” Tess cocked her head to the side, looking at Abby silently, almost as if she was trying to figure her out. “Then what is it? Just us here, Abby. Like I said if you can’t turn to anyone else and speak to them about whatever the fuck is going on, at least speak to me. Is that not what I told you years ago? If you are ever having a problem or an issue, you come to me, and I will do my best to help you.”

Abby lowers her head in shame or frustration—she has no idea which—and inhales deeply. “It’s s’not that easy. You think me sitting here, smoking with you, is going to make it easier? Because I won’t. I don’t know why you’re trying so hard.”

“Because I love you, and I don’t want to see you or anyone else hurt in the process.” She’s blunt again, but her serious face falters just a little bit when Abby nods slowly. “Abby—”

“You don’t understand. You don’t understand how much it hurts,” Her blue eyes pierce into Tess’s, and she feels her heart break piece by piece. “You don’t, you have Joel, you have each other, a love you share doesn’t always happen to everyone else. I won’t get a love like yours because m’just fucking up my life by hurting everyone who walks into it. Owen doesn’t even look at me the same anymore, and what am i supposed to do? Slap on a smile and act like that’s fuckin normal? And when he is fine? It’s not important enough for him to see. Being with her is something I haven’t felt or had before.”

“You either tell her you love her or you end it, s’’not right, and you know it. You’re just stringing her along.”

“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Abby scoffs and tugs at her hair with a soft growl under her breath. “You think I don’t think about that whenever I tell her to leave? Even though she can make my shitty night into something perfect? Do you think m’not thinking that the entire time? What do you want me to say to her? I love you, but I can’t ruin your life because I love fucking up mine?” She laughs, one Tess can smell is fake, and shrugs to herself.

“Everything I’ve had, or had, gets taken from me, and when I find the one thing that m’here for, and I can’t do anything but see her behind closed doors, those stupid glances and smiles that make my heart feel like it’s going to rip out my chest? That’s what is fucking keeping me alive. Just to see her fuckin face, to see her smile, makes me feel alive. It makes me feel again.” Abby finally looks up at Tess, the walls she’s built up for years slowly crack. “You think I don’t know m’breaking her heart because I have no idea what I'm doing with my life right now? You're wrong if you think I don’t because I spend endless nights hating myself for it. No one will ever hate me more than I hate myself, Tess.”

For once, Tess is stunned into silence. Abby closed herself off from friends and family as she grew older, never opening up about her feelings and emotions. Even if people said it wasn’t a healthy thing to do, she never listened and kept at it. “No one hates you, Abby.” Her voice is quiet and cautious as she reaches for Abby’s hand, a hand that’s suddenly grown colder as the minutes pass.

“I hate myself,” Abby’s voice cracks, a younger shell of herself clawing its way out. “I hate myself and don’t know what to do.”

“You need to start being honest with yourself, Abby.” Tess smiled, reaching up and wiping Abby’s tears away with a soft touch. “How badly do you love her?”

“To the point, I can’t be without her.”

Abby’s body leans more into Tess’s touch the longer she wipes away her tears and rests her head on her shoulder. “Then you have to tell her, you know? I know the entire situation is a fucked up one, at best, but you’re still hurting yourself. I don’t want you to hate yourself, and I don’t want you to end up being hurt in the end. Do you understand where I’m coming from? That’s all I want for you, to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, Abigail.”

“She makes me happy, Tess.”

“I know, Sweetheart,” Tess mumbles against her temple and brushes loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Talking and admitting things isn’t easy for you like it is for others. I know that, but you can’t keep holding in how you feel because you are scared to hurt the person who’s supposed to take care of you. We can see you aren’t happy with Owen, Abby, everyone can see it but you and him. If you love her and not him, you need to tell her. I’m here, I’m always here if you need that extra bit of help, but getting how you feel off your chest, to her, will do you good.”

Abby makes a sound between a groan and a huff before nodding against Tess’s shoulder slower than a snail slides. “M’trying. Everyday m’trying but it’s just so hard.”

“I’m not telling you to tell her about the day when you would throw a fit when I tried to brush your hair or would slap the scissors out my hand whenever you asked me to cut your hair; you don’t have to rush yourself, I know that people are hurting but you are also hurting, and that’s the last thing I want for you. Go at your own pace, but don’t leave it too late, Abby. People only wait for a certain amount of time.”

“What if I’ve already lost her?” Abby can’t help but insecurely ask.

“I don’t think she would still be happy to see you if you lost her, Abigail. The girl isn’t going anywhere, but she might if you don’t tell her how you really feel. I can see the way she looks at you, it’s the same way Joel looks at me, actually,” Tess laughed, slapping Abby’s head lighty when she playfully made gagging sounds. “Enough of that.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“As I was saying, she looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. If you lost her, she wouldn’t continue to look at you like that. That is all I'm saying. Given how shitty the entire situation is right now, I Can tell you that girl is not going anywhere. You just need that extra push to tell her how you really feel, okay?”

Abby lifts her head and looks at Tess, her eyes red and slightly puffy; a small smile appears on her lips before she nods again. “Okay,” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’ll try. Thank you.” The blonde sniffles.

“That’s what I’m here for, to make sure you stay out of shit like this,” Tess jokes while Abby simply rolls her eyes. “You’re the best thing in my life, Abby, I hate to see you so upset.”

“I thought Joel was the best thing in your life?”

“What he doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him, you will always be my favourite person. Just think next time before something like this happens, for my sake. I’m getting older, you know.” She shoves Abby’s shoulder with hers gently and squeezes her hand. “I love you. Even if you have ruined my makeup.”

That has Abby on alert, her eyes widening as she looks at Tess to find the once perfect mascara smudged under her eyes. “Did I make you cry? M’sorry—”

“I give a shit about you, Abby. When you’re hurt, I’m hurt because you’re in pain, and sometimes I don’t know what to do to make you feel better,” She admitted softly. “If you think I can sit here and not cry when you’re telling me you hate yourself, then you are stupid. It breaks my heart to know you think so little of yourself. You’re perfect, you hear me? No matter what is happening, you’re worth so much more. You deserve so much more than what he’s giving you. If he’s the reason you think of yourself so little of yourself like this, I’ll park my foot up his ass.”

A wet laugh rips through Abby’s throat before she can stop it and Tess is just happy that Abby’s already feeling just a little better. “I would like to see that,” She giggled, wiping her eyes and shaking her head. “It’s not— I think I’ve just started hating myself over the years because it’s easier than loving myself. I don’t know, sometimes I don't think m’good enough for anyone so hating myself seemed easier, m’working on it, I promise.”

“You’re good enough, Abigail. You’re more than enough. I don’t care if it takes me years, i’ll make you see how perfect you are. You deserve more than he’s ever given you. I just wish you would see that. She makes you happy, he doesn’t. You and her work. I only had to find you both looking at each other with that smile, and I knew. You can’t hide anything from me, ever. It’s impossible.” Tess smiled, a smile that Abby missed when she was always so serious.

“I love you,” Abby chokes out, voice slightly rough and raspy, but she gets it out. “I know I don’t tell or show you enough, but I do love you. I know that I don't say anything enough, but thank you, and not just for tonight. It has been for every night, every day, since I was younger. For never giving up on me when some days I really wished you would. Some days, you would look at me, and I just wished you would give up on me because I didn’t want to disappoint someone else I love.”

“You never disappoint me, Abby. You could never do that.”

“Not even right now?”

“You might have put yourself in a stupid place right now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve disappointed me. That’s something that you could seriously never do. You just need to think about what you want and do it. No more holding back. Take that leap and go for what you want.”

“I want her. I’ve always only ever wanted her, Tess.”

“Then stop crying in my arms and go get your girl.”

—

Two Years Later…

Abby, now more than ever, wonders if she’s truly become this malignant villain. Even with good intentions, she still manages a way to wreak havoc in your life — only wishing to be your savior but somehow ending up your heinous villain. The rose colored glasses covering your perfect, beautiful eyes, not being able to see what’s so clearly in front of you.

For there is a day like today, where she can’t even stand to look at herself in the mirror. It’s a truly, unsettling, aching feeling that wells in her chest before it sinks to her stomach. Silently, she tells herself, this will be the last. You deserve more than this.

She promises to end things with Owen, her long standing boyfriend, the needle in your spin. The needle in the haystack you need to pluck and throw into another dimension. Every time you bring him up, Abby closes herself off or redirects the subject. If there’s one thing she despises, it’s talking about him when she’s with you. She tells herself it doesn’t but the guilt consumes her, not for being with you but because she’s unable to give you what you deserve.

Abby can’t quite stop herself from dragging her feet in the mud, the impending blow of her relationship with Owen is near but still halts. A safety net may be the cause of her hollow demise, but it’ll be there to catch her.

You question why she needs him at all.

Late night booty calls where she’ll have to make up some lie to Owen as she seeks the refuge of the nectar she craves on her salivating lips, how the insatiable blonde won’t stop until you’re coating over lips entirely, the sweet sensation dancing on her tongue as she swallows every drop. When she’s practically dying for a taste, you never say no to her, even if you should, you're not capable of it. Even if her intentions are well placed she still takes advantage of the situation.

Abby wonders if it’s obvious how much craves for a moment of your undivided attention. Do you know how much you replay in her mind? The moans rivaling a symphony, the one she imagines as Abby gets off to the thought of you. Thick, long fingers stuffed in her cunt as she contemplates if you do the same. It seems you must when you’re calling her tonight, moaning her name softly as you beg her to come over. Even if she was just there last night, Abby would come running like a dog digging for their favorite bone.

As long as you asked, she will always come.

It isn’t until after when you’re so blissed and fucked out, the guilt surfaces again, practically substituting the blood supply pumping through her veins. Hazy eyes clouded with lust and love look at her, the damn look always getting her in this bed with you. To no avail, it’s a cycle she created and enabled, the two of you too weak with need to break.

Abby feels shame when she doesn’t let the love reach her eyes, the love that reaches yours every time you look at her. She’s envious of it. How open your love expands even when she’s done nothing but tangle you up in her web of lies and deceit.

She’s only snapped out of her thoughts when you run your fingers through her golden hair, her blocked blues, void of any tell of what she’s thinking looks at you again, really looks instead of just staring off into whatever has her so tripped up. She tries anyway.

“Baby, come back to me.”

The pad of your thumb caresses her scarred cheek, delicately tracing patterns into her soft skin, but you know she won’t come back. Not mentally, not until there’s distance from what the both of you did. Until it happens again and this is where the both of you land again.

“I don’t know—” You shut her up, lips locking with her even softer ones, pink and swollen from the past few hours.

“Stop. Please? Would you just look at me?”

“I am…looking.”

“Baby?” You speak softly, so delicate it makes Abby nearly whine. The name of endearment, as soon as it falls, engraves your name on another piece of her heart. Each time you’re sweeter to her than she deserves, a little part of her is given to you. Abby isn’t sure how much she has left that doesn’t belong to you.

Every bit of it is yours to have, even if you decide you don’t want it, her heart will always belong to you.

“Yeah?” She leans into your touch, even if it’s just for a singular second, you pick up on it.

“Can you stay tonight?” You plead as you crane your neck to look at her from a better angle, fully coming off your high, until it’s replaced with a new one. Every second you look at her it feeds the endless addiction you have for her, the drug you need more and more every day.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” Her voice is full of rasp as she agrees to your request. Then she uses her strength to pull you back on top of her. Your face rests against hers as you find warmth in the crook of her neck, smelling the familiar oak scent laced with vanilla as she runs a gentle hand up and down your spine. Even if you’re afraid this will stop at any given moment, you cherish the moment.

Abby starts telling you about her day, all the stupid little shit, just boring no sequential errands she was running to fill her days. It’s strangely domestic, a side she doesn’t expose often. With you or anyone. The complaints about Abby’s stone wall are said often to Mel. How she’s nearly stoic these days, staying in the confinements of her own mind, watching as the world passes her by instead of living in it.

What neither of them neglect to know she is, but it’s done in such secrecy the omission must die on your tongue. The dirty little secret you must protect like an oath you don’t remember swearing, but with Abby it’s all the same.

You would do anything for her. As much as it hurts in the big moments when she can’t be here with you, it heals you when she’s in your bed, caressing your back, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Promises you want to believe, a complement of how pretty you are, or how much she misses you in the time you’re subjected to spend apart. It’s when you’re strong, when you want more but know you can’t have it so it makes you upset. Enough to the point where you distance yourself but ultimately this is where it always ends up. Not just for you, but for her too.

“M’sorry I’ve been avoiding you.” You confess, easier to say it when you don’t have to look at her.

“It’s okay.” Abby thinks you should just leave her, cut her out of your life, leave her broken and bleeding. It should be the penance she pays for holding so much time in your life.

“It’s not. You wouldn’t do it to me.” Abby sighs but she wraps you up in her strong arms, pulling you closer to her, if it was even possible. “I do sometimes, it’s not entirely true.”

As you stroke her blonde hair, running your fingers through the strands you ask her something, a terrifying thought that feels you with so much dread, your hands begin to shake.

“Abby?” It isn’t the usual way you say her name, it’s void of emotion which makes her create a slight distance so she can look at you. You’re trying so hard not to cry, choking back the tears as but they start to slip, viciously without your permission. An instant, the girl below you starts wiping them away, doing her best to soothe you. “What’s wrong?” Laced with concern as you try to avoid her overpowering gaze, because if you do, you won’t get out what you need to say. You’ll fall into her, unable to find yourself, trapped in the abyss of the woman you love.

“Just promise me.”

“Promise you what?”

“Promise you’ll be honest with me. Promise me if you get bored with me, if this becomes too much for you or if you decide it’s him and not me, you’ll tell me. I can handle all of this but I can’t handle being lied to or being shoved in the dark.”

It doesn’t take her more than a second to respond, “I promise. You’ll always have my honesty.” Abby locks her lips with yours, you whimper in her mouth, so loudly it’s nearly pathetic. She tastes the saltiness of your tears, the anguish funneling beneath you. Truthfully, she doesn’t blame you. Two and a half years and you’re still here. Abby knows she doesn’t deserve for you to be but you are. With the wedding coming up and her going with Owen, your place by her side is insignificant, making you wish things were different.

Abby tries to tell you how she feels through the kiss, without saying what she actually feels, what she’s always wanted to tell you but can’t. It’s too cruel to say when Abby can’t fully give herself to you. So, she holds you until you fall asleep in her arms and only then does she cry. Truly hating herself for breaking one of the only people she’s ever truly loved, splitting you into two the longer she contemplates on what to do. She hopes you’re deep in sleep, unable to feel the tears kissing your shoulder because if anything has pushed her to the brink, it’s seeing the love of her life cry because of what she’s done.

—

Two week later…

Thursday. September 2024.

Abby couldn’t stop moving, the entire ride to the airport in the shared uber with you by her side. Indifference. It was too much for her to hyperfixate on so she focused on the dreary cloud as gray as her depleted eyes, void of the natural blue tint it once held.

The ring on your thumb, an emerald stone, a gift from Abby for your birthday being constantly tapped with the blunt of your nail. There’s a craving Abby wants to satiate, a need bubbling at the service to link your fidgeting palm with hers but she can’t.

This entire weekend she won’t be able to. Somehow, with the help of Owen’s oblivious nature, she convinced him it’d be a good idea to take separate flights due to her insane schedule which wasn’t not true.

Just an exaggerated truth. At least that’s what she told herself.

The ongoing fights with Owen, the pleading from you — rightfully so. It’s tearing her in two different directions.

“Abs—” Your gentle touch lightly caresses her exposed forearm, “We’re here.”

She’s pulled back into reality with a touch so light and warm, Abby swears she sees stars. Even when you’re upset with her, your kindness still extends, something she’s not quite sure what to do with. If she welcomes it, she’s greedy for wanting to have her cake and eat it too. On the other hand if she dismisses you to ease her guilty conscience, it makes her into the malicious monster she never wants to be.

Abby carries both of your bags as you make your way through the airport. The only exception? Your personal carry-on you refuse to let her hold. She wants to question the action, but she lets it slip through the cracks.

The line to board is outrageously long. Absent-mindedly, Abby’s head falls into the crook in your neck, her chest pressed against your back. She forgets she shouldn’t feel the right to. Not when she promises so much but always tends to go back on her word.

Yet, you say nothing.

A part of you knows that if you say something, or try shrugging her off, it’s going to end in one of you saying the wrong thing, in a place at the wrong time, but on the other hand, you could never deny her touch, or being so close to her. She was intoxicating, maybe Abby didn’t think so, but to you, she was all you wanted, all you wanted to be around. So when her body suddenly relaxes more against yours, and your hand wraps around to keep her up, her eyes, ones that were on the brink of falling asleep, snap open, you know she’s got questions. Many of them. Many you don’t have the heart of words to reply to. So you both say nothing, again. A silent action that holds everything. Abby doesn’t need to ask what’s going on in your head, the same way you don’t need to ask what’s going on in hers. You both already know.

By the time you make it onto the plane, Abby feels even closer. So close that you can smell the pinewood body wash she used this morning, the smell of her mint gum she keeps chewing on when you got the uber. You were so caught up in your own mind, and your crazy thoughts that you didn’t even realize or feel the hand she had on your lower back, guiding you to where you were both seated. It was natural for her to do that when it was just you two. Keeping you safe, always having an arm around you just in case anything were to happen.jk

Her touch always made you melt, she knew it, yet she didn’t stop herself from letting go.

“Do you want the window seat, or?” Abby left the question open, it’s the most she’s said to you all morning, her eyes did most of her talking whenever she would look at you, but even though you were somewhat upset with her, hearing her voice made you relax. “Babe” the pet name rolls off her tongue so effortlessly and gently that she doesn’t realize she’s done it, it’s only when your head snaps up to look at her, with your lips parted, that she does. “Shit, that’s, m’sorry. I know you’re upset with me right now—”

But you smile, maybe you laughed a little too, but she can’t focus when you’re smiling at her like that. “Abs, s’okay. You say it a lot, it was going to happen.” you reminded her, fumbling with your ring again, a nervous habit you’re convinced only happens around her. “I know you like the window seat, even though you worry me when you completely zone out looking at the clouds” you teased, poking her in the shoulder lightly.

“Hey, clouds are relaxing to look at.” Abby shrugged, a cheeky smile curving up on her lips. “And i know you like being closer to the snacks when they bring them out, so we both win” She’s teasing this time, and you let her. “But you forget, you always make me buy you snacks before we go anywhere”

“I don’t make you, you offer to buy me them!”

“You still take them though, don’t you?”

“That’s beside the point, Anderson, you know i love my snacks. Nothing will ever get in the way of me and them. No matter what you say.”

“Not even us?”

The question had your heart aching and you hadn’t even sat down yet! Abby doesn’t miss the way you look at her and then away from her, like you don’t even know how to respond to that. She knows it’s too soon to be asking that, yet sometimes, her mouth runs before her brain can keep up with her. Something you did like about her. “Not here, Abby, please” your words came out as a whisper, eyes silently pleading at her.

“You’re right, m’sorry, again. I seem to be fucking up a lot lately, don’t i?” She smiles, but it’s one that doesn’t reach her eyes like all the other times. Because she knows if she keeps asking, looking at you like that, acting like this is normal, it’s going to break you even more.

“You haven’t, you’re not, it’s just a lot, we can talk about it after, okay?”

“After.” Abby nodded, the smile finally reaching her eyes.

Hope.

For the most part, once you had both sat in your seats, Abby by the window comfortably and you, on the outside seat, already patiently waiting for the snacks, the blonde hadn’t uttered a single question that involved the pair of you. The one not long ago still lingered in your head, in your chest and it just consumed you. You were glad that she had decided to suddenly become quiet, looking out the small window in hopes she wouldn’t accidentally spill another question that had you pulling more away from her.

She could handle a lot. Losing you was one she couldn’t handle.

She knew she would lose you fully if she pressed too hard on a question.

Abby couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Apart from the chatter of parents, and screaming children a few rows in front of you, Abby didn’t move a muscle. It was funny. Sometimes if she were focused, she would grind her teeth together, you would only know that if you’ve been around her long enough. You heard it one night. It was after a small fight with Owen, that she ended up at your apartment and you could hear the way she ground her teeth together from sitting beside her, but this time, not a single peep from her. Not even a flinch when one of the children screamed at the top of their lungs.

She didn’t even drop hints that she knew you were looking over at her. Abby was used to your stare, used to the feeling of knowing when you would have your gaze on her whenever you had the chance that is, so maybe this was just her playing hard to get, but it still came as a shock that she wasn’t even phased. One second she’s missing you and your touch, to then not even caring about it or having it the next. After all this time, she was still hard to figure out, just like she was when you met her.

you’ll figure her out, again, if you have to.

—

Friday. September 2024.

The night, one that’s supposed to be happy and cheerful, doesn’t seem to be like that for Abby. Don’t get her wrong, she’s happy, happy for those around her, happy for those having fun, happy for Joel and Tess on their engagement. I mean, why wouldn’t she be happy for them? it was Joel and Tess, the same Tess that’s been there for Abby during a few, more like multiple, rough patches in her life, listened to her when she felt like anything she did wasn’t good enough, spoke to her about you, and how shitty she feels about not giving you everything you deserve. The same Tess that’s never let her down, but as she stands here, away from everyone else who seems to be enjoying it, cradling a bottle of beer in her hand, Abby wants to run. She isn’t sure why. All she knows is that the longer she watches the people around her, watches you, she wants the ground to swallow her whole, chew her up, and spit her back out.

Abby picks lamely at the label, easily torn away by the condensation of the bottle of beer, it’s all she can do at the moment. Owen seems to be interested in the topics Mel is bringing up. Any other night, she might feel her blood boiling in her presence but she finds herself otherwise occupied. The barstool she’s nursing supports her thighs, Owen’s cologne is so strong she almost finds herself gagging on the musky oak, the one she hates. It reminds her of you, ironically enough.

You’re the antithesis of him. Abby couldn’t find one similarity if she tried. All hours for the rest of her life could be spent on this one task, yet it would always remain unfinished. The softness of your skin, putting the finest silk to shame. She thinks of your kind heart, the patience that extends to her in ways she doesn’t feel deserving of. On more days than she has enough hands to count, you’ve dropped your entire list of responsibilities for her. When there’s been no one else, there’s always been you.

Owen doesn’t even notice how her jaw clenches, the muscles constricting against the harsh grind of her teeth, the grim frown gracing her sunkissed face, or even the way her firm hand fists the glass so hard, Abby’s just a few moments waiting for it to blow. Part of her, however small it may be, wishes for the glass to pierce her sensitive porcelain skin. Maybe then you’d actually care instead of being lost in the shining emerald’s of Ellie fucking Williams.

Abby wishes she crushed her skull the first chance she got.

Or maybe break her fingers.

She has an endless list.

One that seems to get shorter whenever she finds you. Her only reason is you.

Abby hates the way Ellie’s hands find refuge on your lower back, the same place she loves to place her own whenever she’s close to you. She doesn't know why the way your face and smile light up at something she’s said to you, tears Abby's heart into pieces. Just the way you look into Ellie’s eyes and laugh is like an arrow just got shot through her heart. So many promises she’s made you, and the longer the seconds and minutes pass, she feels like you’re forgetting all about them. Maybe she only has herself to blame. No, she knows she is the only one to blame.

You weren’t even hers, and she was losing you to someone who had already taken enough from her. That scares her. It scares her with how far she would go for you. Just to see you happy, safe, and smiling. There isn’t a single thing she wouldn’t do for you.

She’s scared to be yours, but she’s terrified to not be yours.

Your eyes found hers like a magnet, almost as if you were trying to find her, and Abby’s heart flutters at the sight when you smile at her. A smile she has devoted months upon months of trying to bring out of you with her shitty jokes and silliness. The prior worries and doubts seem to disappear into the back of her mind, disbursing like an open fire that’s slowly burning out, and she gives you a small wave. A wave that has you waving her over, wanting her to be closer, needing her to enjoy herself.

“Abby, if you don’t get over here, m’going to drag you off that stool!” You yelled over the music, your giggle sending another flutter in her chest. Did you seem to forget Ellie? Abby thought as she placed the bottle on the counter and sighed deeply through her nose.

Fumbling with her jacket sleeve cuff links, Abby’s eyes, one’s that you love to look at, stay locked to yours as she slowly makes her way towards you, a familiar look sparkling in those blue orbs of hers, and she has the nerve to fucking smirk one she’s close enough. The blonde looks over at Ellie, that harsh resentment bubbling back up, before looking at you again with her hand out towards you. No words, just actions being thrown your way. “How gentlewomanly of you” you grinned, placing your hand in hers and a soft gasp slipped past your lips when she pulls you right into her chest. Not even a sheet of paper could fit between you both. Abby didn’t care who was around, and who was going to complain about her dancing with you?

What you both don’t notice is the way Mel suddenly stops her conversation with Owen, who was mindlessly babbling and yapping on about whatever the fuck he was talking about and cocked her head to the side when she spotted you and Abby. How one of her hands was now pressed against your lower back, the other holding onto yours. Yours seemingly comfortably on her shoulder.

Like you were so used to doing this with her.

“What the fuck are you looking at? I was trying to tell you—” Owens words get cut short when he, still oblivious as usual, turns around when he catches Mel’s stare, one that wasn’t directed at him, and his eyes land on Abby. His girlfriend. Who was way too close to you. Dancing like you weren’t in a room full of people. Like you want people to fucking know.

He doesn’t even seem to catch the way she looks at you. The small grin on her face that, for you, holds so much more than just an expression. To the way, her fingers flex against your back with each step you make to the sound of the music playing loudly over the speakers. Not to mention, she way she lowers her head, lips grazing the shell of your ear so softly that you almost whimper against her. “This dress, s’pretty. You’re pretty” was all she whispered, and pulled away before you had time to respond.

Your eyes, without your want, flicker to the people crowding around one of the tablets, and your heart suddenly drops, as does your shy smile when you lock eyes with Owens. A clenched-jawed Owen that looks seconds away from bursting into flames. “Abs,” you couldn’t help but mumble, body and brain refusing to look away from him. “He looks angry”

“We are only dancing. Nothing wrong with that” She growled, not necessarily at you, but at the entire situation. She can’t touch or hold you the way she wants to. Poor girl can’t even say what she’s already thinking, to you, without making a scene. “He’s not gonna do anything.” She states firmly. “He knows this night is important to Joel and Tess, and he knows their happiness is important to me. He won’t do say or anything to you”

“But what about to you?”

“Then let him.”

By the time the words tumble from her mouth, you’re pulling both your hands away from her when Owen is suddenly making his way towards you both. The warmth and safety you brought Abby, being ripped away from her, had her jaw locking and eye twitching. “Abby” He smiles, although you know it’s fake.

“What?” Her reply comes out somewhat slightly harsh which has him doing a double take and looking at you with angry eyes, again. Ones you were slightly getting used to already. “We were dancing here, you’re ruining it. Did you want something?”

“Do you want to dance?”

Is he fucking serious?

Blinking away her thoughts repeatedly, Abby can’t help but turn around to face her so-called boyfriend and raise her eyebrow at his question. “You want to dance? Now? After you’ve practically ignored me the entire time, only because m’dancing with someone else?” She didn’t care if her words came out mean and cruel. She only can handle so much.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, Abs—”

“Sure as fucking hell looked like you were” The blonde growled, the sound of her teeth grinding together had you looking up at her with wide eyes, and before you could comprehend what you were doing, you wrapped your hand around her arm and tugged her.

“Abby s’okay, let’s just go get some air, okay?” You pushed gently, silently hoping and praying in your head she would take the hint you were throwing and go. “We don’t need to cause a scene at their rehearsal dinner, please”

“What? Are you her guard dog now or something?” Owen can’t stop before the question slips off the tip of his tongue, with a laugh. Not even when Abby’s looking at him like she wants to kill him with her bare hands for simply thinking of such things. “Come on, Abby, i know you like to please people but—”

“But nothing.” Abby was quick to cut him off. “You know nothing”

“Why are you suddenly being such a bitch?”

Abby, who would do anything to snap at someone if she really wanted to, stepped back from Owen and raised an eyebrow at him. “And you wonder why i don’t want to suddenly fucking dance with you. Grow the fuck up, Owen. First, you call me a dog, then you call me a bitch. If anyone’s being a bitch, it’s you because you’re mad we were dancing. Doing nothing wrong” She replied calmly, but the way her hands were twitching at her sides, told you a different story. “i need some fucking air, this room feels like it’s going to suffocate me if i’m near you any longer”

Abby’s walking away before you have time to ask if she’s even okay.

Angrily eyeing up Owen, who’s now looking down at his feet awkwardly before looking over at Mel, somewhat pleading for her to say something, you can’t help but let out a gentle scoff. “Can’t even go and check on your girlfriend to see if she’s alright? What kind of ‘boyfriend’ are you supposed to be? Do we have to pay extra for giving a shit about her?” You laughed.

“Oh fuck off, this is your fault!”

You exhaled a deep sigh, his words stinging you in a way that hurt, but you didn’t want to show that it affected you, so you just smiled sarcastically at him. “Go wag your tail to Mel, m’sure she would rather see you than anyone else would, dick breath”

You hadn’t seen the way both of them looked at you like a deer in headlights.

Abby was hard to find sometimes, most of the time she would disappear so fast that it was like she just went completely invisible. Other times, she would have simply gone home and never left her apartment again, but this was different. She wasn’t at home, and she didn’t know this place like the back of her hand. So surely finding her would be slightly easier.

Luck, or whatever they call it these days, must have been on your side as you found the blonde slumped on one of the benches, jacket crumpled beside her with her head thrown back and sighing deeply. Of all places she could have hidden, she chose to hide in the most obvious place. The fucking garden? “Usually when you’re mad, you’ve already drunk 3 bottles of beer and are having some kind of psychotic break” Your voice rang out, snapping her back into reality. “Are you having a psychotic break?”

“Does it look like m’having a fucking psychotic break?” She laughed. Deep and raspy. A sound that always has your thighs clenching together no matter the place or time.

“You’re pretty good at masking your emotions, so you could be” You shrugged, a small bite in your words as you placed yourself beside her. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Did you come out here just to piss me off? Because if you did, it’s working”

Your eyes found hers, and you couldn’t even stop the way your breath hitched in your throat at the lazy grin plastered on her face. “No, i came to check on you to see if you were okay, but him calling you a dog didn’t bruise your ego that much so i’ll leave if you want?”

Her hand reached out as you moved, her cold and rough ones grabbing onto your arm gently that you gasped at the action and pouted. “No. Stay, don’t leave, m’sorry” She apologized, suddenly feeling too vulnerable and scared. Too open. “M’sorry, i know you don’t have to stay, especially with how i’ve treated you. I don’t want to be here, s’all too much for me to handle. Being close to you, and not being able to do anything is driving me insane. I miss you” Abby admitted, thumb brushing across the skin of your knuckles. “I—I need you”

You don’t see the flicker of vulnerability or hurt in Abby’s eyes, you just look at her, trying to figure out her words. She didn’t expect you to chuckle. “You need me?” You repeated, shaking your head and scoffing. “If you need me, like you say, why do you push me away? Why do you never pick me? Why do you always end up picking a guy who doesn’t give a shit about you? A guy who would rather see you hurt, than happy? What does Owen have that i don’t, Abby?”

“Because m’scared ill fuck this up. Believe it or not, but you’re the only good thing i have, i can’t fuck that up. I can’t fuck you up. Do you think i don’t think about you when i’m with him? Because you’re all i think about, and it drives me nuts because i can’t do anything about it. I want you, i always want you, but i’m terrified you’ll realise i’m just not it. That i’m not enough for you. You’re the only thing i think about, but i don’t want to ruin you or what we have.”

You create some distance, venturing off down the makeshift isle displayed in the front of the garden. Florals formed in an arch, bigger than you’d ever seen, didn’t really seem like Joel and Tess’ style, but it sure was beautiful. The pops of coral and different tones of pink rooted in a deep green. You find a moment of peace in the silence, not knowing what will be left between the two of you once the secret you’d been holding spills.

“Abigail…” You take a deep breath trying to muster the courage, hoping it’s buried somewhere beneath you, only needing to be dug out.

Abby finds her heart dropping when she sees you standing under the arch. She thinks it’s cruel, just a glimpse of a future she wants so desperately but she doesn’t even know where to begin. How can she earn you now? After everything she’s done…is there any redemption to be found?

“You are ruining us. Each time you tell me you’re leaving but stay with him snuffs out everything we have.” Abby stands wanting to console you, but the look in your eyes keeps her at bay. The tears building in your beautiful eyes, and it’s not that you’re distraught, you’re clearly angry. Frustrated doesn’t even begin to cover the overflow of emotions swarming through you.

You’re exhausted with co-existing with him, pretending everything is fine and normal. That he’s the one who makes her happy, he’s the one who knows what she wants, what she needs — that he’s the one.

“Tell me why.” Your tone is firm, hands crossed over as shiver in the crisp air of the spring wind. “Tell me why it’s him and not me.”

“What?” Abby bites back, her pearly whites grinding into each other as she nearly snarls. “You can’t be serious.”

Anger starts to swirl beneath the deep pools, the one she hides so well, not even the best could decipher what she hides, all of the sweet nothings she wishes she could speak of but doesn’t. Every time she wants to lash out at Owen for not treating her right but doesn’t. The love she holds yet hides under lock and key. All of it is kept within her, only for her to know and see, but the anger slips.

It’s evident the moment you tell her — It’s Owen not me.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” Abby stalks you like you’re her prey, getting closer and closer to you. Your hands are unable to keep still when she’s so close to you, making her overwhelming presence known. You won’t look at her and it pisses her the fuck off to no degree. Why can’t you just see how much she needs you? “After everything. Everything we’ve shared, you’re just gonna stand there, ask me some bullshit like that?”

You’ve never been the one to have Abby’s anger directed towards you, you’ve witnessed it on others, but never yourself. Was it normal to feel so small against someone you’ve known for years? Against someone who only has to look at you, hold you in their arms, and tell you that everything is okay?

“Then why can’t you just—”

“It’s always been you!” Abby shouts, her voice so loud that the birds, who were calmly in their nests, flutter and fly away. “So what else do you want me to fucking do?!”

That was your final nail in the coffin.

“I want you to choose me. I want you to want me the way I want you. I don’t want to be someone you only want when he’s not around. To be first. M’not fucking asking you for much, Abigail. Just to be the first in your life. That’s all.”

“You know it’s not that easy”

“It’s never fucking easy with you” You scowled, eyes fluttering and watching her abruptly turning away from you. Even if you’ve known her for years, she was cautious of who saw her like this. Or cautious whenever it came to her emotions. She didn’t want to be seen as weak. Tonight though, tonight you didn’t care what you said or did, you just wanted her to listen. Which is why you struggled to keep your mouth shut as she walked away. “Do you really think Owen gives a single fuck about you when he’s too busy shoving his tongue down Mel's throat like she’s some kind of hydration?”

If you didn’t know Abby as well as you did, you would have cowered at the way her body halted in her steps, turned around slowly, and even from the distance between you both, you could see how tight she was clenching her jaw. “Excuse me?”

“Abby that’s not—”

“No.” She laughed, more so dryly as she shook her head. “Open that fucking mouth and repeat what you said. C’mon, remember when i tell you to use your words? Yeah, fucking use them then. Say it again” She’s in front of you again before you can blink, unsure of how she even moved that fast. “Don’t hold back now, you want my attention? You got it. Come on”

“Abby, please i didn’t mean to say that” You frowned, fumbling with the ring on your finger nervously. “M’sorry”

“You’re sorry? You’re asking me to pick between you both even though you kept this entire thing to yourself? You knew this entire time and you what? Thought if i admitted how much i want you, i wouldn’t be as hurt when you told me? Use that pretty head of yours, you’re not fucking stupid, of course, it would fucking hurt me”

“M’sorry—”

“But you’re not.” Abby laughed. “You’ve been fine keeping it from me. If you were sorry, you would have told me, no?”

“It’s not like we are perfect either. Look at what we’re doing. We’re just as bad!”

“But that never stopped you coming over late at night and begging me to fuck you, did it? Never once complained when i had you on my bed, fucked out your brain, did you? If it was so bad, you would have stayed away. If this entire thing was bad, you would have told me to fuck off, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t have kept pulling me along if it was so bad. So no, you’re not sorry, you’re just sorry that you got caught and your big mouth let me know what’s happening.”

“Abby—”

“Don’t you dare start crying right now” She’s warning, looking at you angrily. If looks could kill, she would have already killed you by now. “I was going to break up with him, you know? After Joel and Tess had their wedding. I was going to do everything to make it special for us, and then— then you had to go and fucking do this” She scoffed, stepping away from you. “It’s always been you, you fucking know that, and i would have fucking broken up with him if you gave me a little more time”

You can feel your heart slowly breaking as you just watch Abby move away from you. “Abby, please, we can talk about this!” You pleaded, taking a couple of steps, trying to reach her. “We can talk about it, we can, please”

But she doesn’t stop. Not even when the sounds of your cries fill her ears. Something she would always do. Always stopping if you’re upset or hurt. She just leaves, not even looking back, with the faintest. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

—

After spending several hours crying in the garden, staring at the stupid floral arch, one that you couldn’t help but picture Abby and you underneath. All the countless nights spent together, seeing a future in her eyes, now it seems hopeless. In the heat of your despair, you revealed the tight lipped secret you’d been holding, ruining everything. In her eyes you can still see it, the betrayal and hurt, but not from who she expected it from.

You have a craving building, wondering what she’s thinking, and if she really meant what she said. Even if she says it’s always been you, saying it is one thing, actually standing behind those words is another entirely. Pathetically, you stayed there, crossing your fingers behind your back as you awaited her return but she never came. You truly, royally, fucked things up.

It didn’t stop from the anger rolling off you as well as the anguish. You never wanted her to know that you knew about his extra curricular activities. The selfish part of you; the one that seems to win mostly, you wanted her to pick you because she loves you, not to be a second choice or just a side piece of ass.

Barefoot and heartbroken, you wander back to the lobby of the hotel, just to find Mel and Owen together so impossibly close with each other at the bar you wonder why Owen and Abby even bother staying together. It’s so clear, to anyone else with eyes, they are just wrong. Neither of them fit the way you’re supposed to when you love someone, when you actually care about the other person, yet she wants to savor his feelings for what reason? You weren’t sure you would ever understand why Abby did the things she did.

The only person Abby trusted is herself. Hiding behind the mask she fronts, never fully letting anyone into the feelings brewing inside her but leaving her ultimately — empty.

Begrudgingly, you decide to take a shot of tequila, basking in your lost hope before making your way to your hotel room.

You aren’t walking that long before you can feel the pain in the heels of your feet, the shoes you picked for tonight slowly becoming a bad idea, as you spot your room. Reaching into your bag, the strap slowly falling off your shoulder, you grumbled softly under your breath when you didn’t feel the small thin key card that you knew you had earlier and instantly slumped your forehead against the wooden door. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You mutter to yourself.

Deep in your own head, you don’t notice Abby sluggishly yet tiredly making her way down the corridor, unaware you were mumbling and cursing to yourself as you simply grabbed and shook the door handle with so much anger that you’re surprised it didn’t break.

“Oh, fuck you, you stupid fucking door!” Your foot collided with the door, annoyance spiraling from within you, the yelling and action had you gaining the attention from none other than Abby herself. Did you want it? Yes, but did you want it when she was angry? You weren’t sure.

“You’re not supposed to kick the door, you know?” She couldn’t help but mutter, watching you struggle with an amused smile on her lips.

“Be grateful m’not kicking you.”

She laughs, or you think she laughs, and hummed at your obvious struggle. Your threat not affecting her as much as you wanted it to. “Did you lose it?”

“Did i lose it?” You repeated, hand gripping the handle tighter with a clenched jaw. “Do you really think i’m the kind of person to lose a fucking key card?”

“You tell me, you can’t get into your room, it seems like you did lose it” Abby points out the most obvious thing before sighing softly under her breath. “Or you wouldn’t be stuck out here.”

Turning your head quickly at her words, you growled at her and glared in her direction. “Would it make you happy if i admit that yes, i fucking lost my key card?”

“It might.” Abby chuckled, tongue clicking against the side of her cheek in amusement again. You notice that glint in her eyes again, the same one you’ve seen countless times in those baby blues, but she doesn’t say much, not that she has to. “You can uh, stay in my room, if you want?”

Are you hearing her correctly?

“You want me to stay in your room? Didn’t you say you couldn’t stand looking at me anymore?”

“That’s not—” She’s pausing, running her hand over her face in frustration. “I don’t— this is just hard for me, okay? Can you try to reason with me?”

“M’trying, but every time i try to, you throw it back in my face. You throw it in my face like this entire situation is my fault.” You found her stepping closer, not that you noticed seconds prior, but as you get your words out, you notice she’s listening. “I just want you to understand.”

“Understand what?”

“That I just want to be yours, and it hurts that you don’t understand, or you do and would rather me not think of you like that, which just hurts even more.” You sighed, finally looking at her. “I want to love you the way you deserve, but you won’t let me”

“S’not that i don’t want you to, i don’t deserve you.” Abby chokes out, every emotion and feeling, that she’s tried to keep buried deep, finally creeping up on her. “I’ve never deserved you, you deserve better than me. You always have”

“Don’t you think that’s my decision to make?”

“I don’t want you to make the wrong one. I’m the wrong decision for you.”

Her words, ones that cut deep, have you frowning and shaking your head, like you don’t want to believe her. She’s always been hard on herself, especially when it comes to love, thinks that she doesn’t deserve it. Everyone does, and you know that she’s trying. “You are the only right decision i’ve ever made.” Your body was closer to hers, she could smell the soft perfume, almost the smell of the scented lipgloss you chose for tonight. “You are worth it, and it kills me that you don’t see it. You don’t see that under all the anger, all the feelings, everything you build up to protect yourself, you just want to feel safe. You will always be safe with me. You are perfect, i just want you to let me show you just how perfect you are. Especially to me.”

Your words struck something in her brain, thoughts going a little too fast her to keep up with, but that doesn’t stop her from wrapping her hand around your wrist, and tugging you closer to her, face quickly burying in the crook of your neck, something she does each time she’s alone with you, and the feeling of her nose brushing against the collum of your throat seconds later has you softly sighing and threading your fingers through the loose strands of hair. “Let me show you.” You whispered, gripping her jacket tightly. “Please let me show you.”

Abby lets you push her towards her bedroom door, still holding each other just as tight while her hand slipped into the soft fabric of her pocket. “Would you just let me—” Abby curses under her breath as she attempts to fish out her hotel card. You have her pushed against the door with your weight, keeping her pinned by your pelvis.

“I should let you do whatever you want? Like you’ve been so nice to me, right?” Pulling her by the navy blue tie, swollen lips ghosting over hers, she whimpers like a bitch in heat. You give her everything, anything and everything she wants, you so graciously provided but she’s been thoughtless. Careless with how you’ve felt. It’d be so easy for her to push you off, pick you up and toss her on her shoulder before throwing you on the bed and having her way with you.

But she likes this.

Knowing she’s in the wrong, underneath your mercy, begging for an inch of your good graces. Abby’s practically salivating, begging to have you in her mouth, wanting to have the everlasting taste of you. Hell, she knows she shouldn’t but she thinks of you every time Owen kisses her. She wonders if he can taste your cum on her lips. After the first time, she wondered if he could clock the crimson of her cheeks, the flush she still was feeling from squirting for the first time. The thighs she could barely keep still, a proper effort made in order to keep herself up.

You’re the first and only to even want to have the power over, she enjoys it — sure as hell gets off to it.

“Answer me.” Your grip on her chin is iron, her blue eyes pouting as her posture slouched.

“I haven’t been nice. I know that. I’ve been making you wait too long.” Abby shudders as your dress slips higher, as she gets lost in the exposed cleavage.

“Abby, babygirl, my eyes are up here.” Her eyes pick up to find you cold gaze, but there’s warmth. Dripping like golden honey and she wishes for it to fall on every inch of her body just so you can reclaim it as your own. She wants to feel your lips, your tongue, whatever the fuck you’ll give her, Abby craves it.

“I know, m’sorry, it’s just—” Your hands smooth over her toned torso, the crisp button up feel smooth under your touch, but it’s thin enough for Abby to feel your magnetic touch, but you stop at her breasts.

“He doesn’t touch you anymore, does he?” Abby shakes her head furiously. In this moment, she’s thankful she opted out of a bra tonight. Teasingly, run over the fabric, back and forth as she feels the bud pebble against your touch. Tortuously, Abby’s breath only begins to grow heavier and you’ve barely even done a thing to get her where she needs to be.

“Fuck—” You begging to pull at the braid, undoing her long blonde locks, making them accessible for you to pull on whenever she decides to she doesn’t want to be teased any longer. “No, he doesn’t. Never like this, hasn’t touched me, made me feel like this, ever. Just you.”

“That’s right, babygirl. You always need to come back to me. Can’t get your fill elsewhere, or be filled. He can’t do much with the poor little pathetic excuse of a cock.” You let go of her chin before whispering in her ear, “Need me so deep in this pretty pussy of yours. Even those precious long fingers of yours can’t hit as deep as me.”

It’s then you reach in her left pocket, opening the hotel room with her key card. “C’mon, you owe me a favor, or two…..maybe even three.” You claim her lips as your own, she belongs to you whether she wants to admit it or not.

“I think I need a reminder from last time.”

Abby smirks, a soft smile falling over her pink lips, she leads you into the room. Her own personal siren, one word from your lips and she’ll do anything you want. Abby only has the door locked and by the time she turns around, your dress pools at your feet.

“Shit—” Abby curses, you’re playing fucking dirty. You know she can’t be up here too long, Owen’s expectant of her to return, or so she thinks.

“You’re killing me, angel.”

Mouth practically salivating, at the sight of your nearly bare silhouette, the moonlight coming through the balcony accentuating every curve, your skin glowing as you wait for her to move. Abby’s contemplating, trying to decide what she wants to do first.

She gets lost in her head, replaying tonight’s events in her head, how she couldn’t keep her cool, not even in front of her boyfriend. The thought of you with someone else too unbearable for her to bear, the incessant need she has instilled within her to be close to you.

“That’s the point but stop suffering, babygirl.” Using her favorite thing to your advantage, you bend over the edge of the bed. Emphasizing the curve of your spin. The seconds the words fell from between your lips, you didn’t think she heard them at first, not with them being so gentle and soft. It wasn’t until you shivered, and sucked in a deep breath when her fingers ran up and down your back, nails lightly scratching your skin that you smiled into your arms. “Abs— oh” You gasped, body tensing at the feeling of her pushing her leg between your legs, pressing the rough material of her pants against your cunt, the fabric of the bedsheet rubbing against you too, adding to the mix.

“Shh,” She leaned down and whispered against your ear. “Bet you’re so fucking wet, hm?” She hummed, softness gone right out the window, still trailing her fingers up and down your back. A devious smirk appeared on her lips at the way you shamelessly tried to grind against her leg. “Can’t even wait, can you?” Her leg pushed harder on your cunt, eliciting a louder moan from between your lips. “That’s too bad, you can’t have whatever you want right now” She cooed mockingly, eyeing up the way your hands gripped the sheet below you, so tight she was worried you were going to hurt yourself. “Gonna let me eat your sweet pussy? Let me show you how much i want you?”

Just like that, you’re putty in her skilled hands.

“Y—Yes, please, need you” You choked out, quickly nodding your head at whatever she was saying to you. You weren’t entirely sure, all you know is that you need her. Her hands, ones that you always love to have all over you, slip down and grip your hips. The action had you whimpering into the pillow, turning your head slightly to get a better look at her. The sight of her behind you, on her knees, licking her lips had yours parting. “Abby, please, want it, want you” You sighed.

“Be patient, brat” Abby scoffed, squeezing your ass in both her hands. “Don’t make me shove your panties in your mouth to get you to shut the fuck up.” There was no true intention of doing so, behind her words, she loved hearing what she did to you. Maybe a little too much. “You’ve been so bad tonight, do you deserve me to eat your pussy, hm?”

“M’sorry, i am” You sniffled, spreading your legs a little wider, tempting her in a way. Knowing she can’t get enough of you. “Please, i’ll be so good, your good girl”

“Yeah?” She hummed, mouth watering at the sight of your cunt. Folds glistened before her as she sunk her teeth into one of your asscheeks, humming at the soft gasp she pulled from you. “You’re gonna be my good girl, s’that right?” She mocked, fingers slipping between your legs, and brushing against your clit. The choked whimper you let out had her grinning against your skin, lightly rubbing circles on your bud and holding you down on the bed with her free hand. “You’re not lying?”

“No” Your words came out muffled from burying your face in the sheets, but your head shake was enough for her to understand. “M’not lying, i’ll be so good for you, i promise” You added. Fingers gripping the white sheet tighter when she’s rubbing harder circles. “Just need you to, to fuck me, please”

You’re flinching, body shaking in her hold when out of nowhere she’s spitting a glob of spit on your cunt, growling at the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing at such a small action that she knows you love. “I’ll decide when i fuck you” Was all she said, using the pad of her thumb and pressing against your second hole, smiling at your soft oh.

Her lips part, as do yours with a moan that has her stomach fluttering and cunt clenching around nothing when she lightly dips her thumb into your hole, your cunt begging for attention as a hum ripped through her throat. “Fuck, knew you would love it too much” She groaned, watching the tight muscle hug her thumb effortlessly. “Yeah, i know” Abby mocked.

“Fuck, Abby, please”

“What are you even begging for?” She scoffed, a small bite in her question, fingers finding your neglected clit and laughing at your loud whine into the pillow when she continued her slow circles. “Just a needy slut, aren’t you?”

“Your needy slut” You whispered, looking down at her and shuddering at the feeling of her slowly rubbing at your clit, and sinking her thumb more into your ass. The sensation had moans and whimpers tearing from your throat. You pushed back against her, absentmindedly that is, and gasped loudly when her hand landed a light slap on your pussy.

“Stop moving.” She warned with a growl. “You’re gonna take what i give you, and if i think you deserve more, you’ll get it” Abby scoffed, smirking at the sight of you burying your face more into the pillows, the messy sheet as you nodded quickly, without shame, and licked your swollen lips. “This is what you needed, hm? Getting your holes stuffed so you would shut the fuck up”

Her words, mean ones at that, that you were used to hearing, has your face heating up, not a single ounce of shame in your body, just pride and need. Whenever Abby would get mean, yes, you were mortified the first time it happened during sex and how wet you had become, but now? she uses it to her advantage. As much as she would like. She had your body under control, and she didn’t even have to do anything to reduce you to such a whimpering, pathetic mess under her.

The swipe of her thumb, a gentle touch, against your clit had you letting out a squeal, jolting on the bed and your eyes slowly started rolling in the back of your head. It was sinful, so sinful at how she was able to do this. Touch you with the lightest touches and have you pleading for more. Abby’s lips parted, almost salivating at the sight of you clenching around her thumb, a silent plea as to say more. Which is why she doesn’t expect the whimper that claws at your skin and rips out of your throat when she’s pulling away completely. The feeling of being almost full, not as much as you wanted, to be taken from you.

“Abs? What—”

“You get both holes filled when you’re good,” Abby tutted, fake cooing at your pleads, one she’s so used to hearing coming from you. “Gonna start crying because m’not giving you what you want? Yeah? Gonna start saying you’ve been good enough? We both know that’s a lie, baby”

Are you crying? You weren’t sure, nor did you care, but with how Abby was dancing her fingers dangerously close to where you need her, you might burst into flames if she didn’t hurry up. “You like it when i cry for you” Comes one of your usual quipped replies. The undertone of brattiness doesn’t go unnoticed by Abby.

But what you miss is the way she clenches her jaw, her eyes harden, and how she’s quick to land a strike on your ass. Your body only gets so far up the bed with a whine before she’s leaning hers over you, hands pinning your hips to the bed and she grazes the shell of your ear with her lips. The harshness of her breath hitting your face had you trying to push back against her. Trying to get something. “Such a dirty fuckin slut” Abby scoffed, sinking her nails into your skin and sure to be bruised in the morning. “You like making it harder for yourself? You want me to punish you?”

“You know all your punishments just make me wetter for you,” Your voice wavers, breathing slightly more ragged as her body presses down harder on you. “Makes me want you to fuck me harder. Want you to fuck me like you’ve missed me.”

“Oh,” Her laugh is one of mocking. You were so used to it that it didn’t make you snappy at her anymore, but it still sent a shiver down your spine when it was directed at you, and you alone. “I do miss you, but m’not gonna just let you get away with being a fucking brat to me tonight because i miss you.”

“But why? Don’t you wanna fuck me, Abby?” You feigned innocence, turning your head enough for her to see the small pout on your lips that you were sporting. “Because i want you to fuck me, fill me up like i know you can. Make me cum in ways only you know how. You fuck me so good, Abby, please, please. I know you wanna fuck into this mattress, Baby”

Abby whimpers.

Sounds that are only reserved for your ears, and yours alone.

You’ll make sure of it.

She whimpers pathetically above you at your words, the blood rushes to her head and she can feel the wetness pooling between her legs the longer you try pushing yourself up against her, grinding against her shamelessly. “Wanna fuck every single thought outta your pretty head so bad” She growls into your neck, everything inside her crumbling as you both just sluttily grind against each other.

“Then stop talking about it and fucking do it.” You spit. A noise so animalistic, you’re not sure you have ever heard it fall from her lips. With an entirely new level of greed, she claims your lips as her own, velvet tongue dominating yours as you can feel yourself practically melting. “God, can’t wait for you to shut the fuck up.” Abby mumbles against your lips. Her fingers undo the knot in her tie, releasing it from her collar as she holds both of your wrists with one, feeling the cool metal frame piercing your skin.

“Is this what you want?” Abby begins to bind your wrists to the bed, her thumb smoothing over skin gently as she tightens the silk fabric against you. “You should be grateful I’m not blind folding you. We both know you deserve it after tonight.” You laugh, manically. Watching the pleasure in her blues rise, she likes you under her will as she takes what she wants.

“Should I be grateful? You’re not fucking me yet…are you?” You tilt your head to the side as Abby removes herself completely, the friction of her trousers evades your cunt, leaving you nothing to grind against. With a smirk as wide as you’ve ever seen, she slowly removes her belt, slipping off her shoes as she throws the black belt on the floor.

“You just don’t know when to shut your mouth, do you? I have something that will.” Her voice lowers an octave as she spills the threat from her pink lips, slowly removing each article of clothing. Her button up shirt is first, leaving her topless in front of you, chiseled abdomen defined as she flexes her abs further. “Would you hurry up, Anderson?”

The more your hips buck into thin air, the wider her smirk gets. “Yeah, I’ll get right on that, boss.” Abby salutes you, having to disguise the laughing bubbling from her lips. The look you give her is deadly, trying to pull at the tie but to no avail you're stuck, under the mercy of whatever Abigail Anderson wants. The terror in your eyes furthers the slickness in Abby’s boxers but she needs to focus. You are right where she wants you, with no intention of letting you have any satisfaction at the moment.

Maybe later if Anderson is feeling kind.

She slowly slides her trousers off, leaving her in just her boxers, your eyes focused on her glorious, blonde happy trail falling in the fabric. Concealed and out of your grip. “You must be really frustrated if you’re saying Anderson, huh? Mhm, that’s too bad. You could have been sitting on my face by now, angel.” She tsks, her tongue hitting the roof of her mouth as she does so.

“M’fine. Not frustrated at all, Anderson.”

“No?” Abby simply nods, putting the weight of her knee on the bed, her face tucked in the crook of your neck as she whispers in your ear, “Why don’t we put that to the test?” She bites on your ear, kissing your jaw sweetly. The only inkling of your sweet abby, the abby you love, but she leaves just as quickly as she came.

Without warning, she slaps your cunt, hard.

The sensation has you wanting to reach for her, pulling at the tie again, but you’re rendered useless. Your body quivers, her finger runs up your pussy, thumbing your clit so lightly it should be considered an unforgivable sin. Once you think she’ll move on, torture you in some other way, Abby decides to have fun and slap your clit this time, gasping the name you only call her in the bedroom. A name just reserved for the two of you.

“Already, babygirl? That’s not very…boss of you.” Abby licks the side of your neck, letting her teeth sink in delicately, you groan in response to her teasing words. “Would you stop calling me that, oh my fucking g—”

You feel two of her thick fingers protrude your dripping hole, sliding in with ease, “Stop calling you what? God? Never gonna let you forget I’m the only one who fucks like one.” She’s slow about it, wanting you to get just enough where it feels good, but not nearly enough to where you crave to be. Pitiful whines are all the evidence she needs, a token of your temporary agony is enough to satisfy her until you break.

“You’re such an asshole sometimes, you know that?”

“Just an asshole who knows how to fuck your ass.” Abby can’t stop teasing you, not when you’re bucking up your hips into her fingers, moaning like a bitch in heat for more. The both of you know there’s no getting out of this unless you tell her what she wants.

“Abby, please.” You beg, the confession comes too soon, but Abby grins wide as she pulls her face out of her neck. “Thought my name was Anderson, boss?” Unpleasantly, you roll your eyes but she still looks very pleased with herself.

“Say my fucking name. You know what I want.” With her fingers nearly knuckle deep, she pushes further, kissing your g-spot. “So pretty baby, sounds so pretty. Stop being a stupid, stubborn slut, yeah? You’re already so wet for me. Don’t you hear yourself?” She fucks you harder as you grind against her fingers, meticulously adding in a third finger.

“Listen to your soaking cunt. You can be a brat, tell me how much you don’t need, but she’s always gonna sell you out, huh? Do you hear the sweet sound of your pussy, babygirl?” You nod helplessly, nearly fully succumbing into the ruthless thrust of her skilled fingers. “Then tell me, what’s my name?”

Finally, you decide to cave in.

“Daddy, please—” With those words, Abby releases her fingers from your pussy, causing you to whimper in distress. “Abby! What the fuck!”

“What? You think I would let you have it after you’ve been a brat. I know you’re easily drunk on me, very easily, but I’m not feeling so generous right now.” Abby slips off the bed once again, her boxers coming off her body, allowing you to see her fully as she slips off her socks. “Time to show you who is the boss, baby.”

For the third time, you pull at the tie. Once again. you’re stuck.

“What are you talking about?” The confusion laced all over your face, watching as you climbed on the bed, finally naked and exposed, just the sight you’ve been wishing to see all night.

“Show me why I let you fuck me and not Owen.” Abby perches her ass on your face, claiming the seat she’s always owned since the moment the two of you met. Abby really doesn’t give you much time to even take a moment to check out the ass you love so much before she’s suffocating you with her pussy. Fuck her for bringing Owen, even if he ever wanted to eat her out, he didn’t have the skill for it.

She knows that, you know it too, but it leaves you eager to prove just how much she likes it when she’s riding your face. Not his, yours. She’s careful enough not to completely crush you, her hand smoothing over your stomach, blunt nails clawing at your skin as you act starved of her. You had been wanting her all night, but this would be enough, even if you remained untouched, knowing you made her cum would be enough until Abby wants to play nice.

The blonde stays quiet for a bit, even when she’s enjoying it, your tongue rolling on her cunt, she begins to find a rhythm, moving her hips in a pace she likes, taking as she pleases. But you know just how to surprise, even if she’s neutralized your hands, you know what your girl likes.

Tilting your head back just a little, giving you enough distance to spit on her cunt, her pink folds glistening more, her body shudders as a moan escapes. A curse of your name spoken before Abby can stop herself.

“Shut up—” Abby starts to murmur off but you spit again, causing her entire body to shudder against your body, but you don’t hold back. Being extra obnoxious for her as you make your ministrations loud, moaning into her soaked cunt, letting your tongue circle around her clit as you suck the bundle of nerves in your mouth.

“God, feels s’good, can’t stop fucking your pretty face.” Abby almost fully seats herself, your attacks on her clit have her seeing stars. The soft build in her stomach is more than she can handle, she’ll cum soon if she’s not careful.

So, she decides to level the playing field.

She bends over completely, burying her face in your soaking cunt. She decides to be torturous, blowing on your lower lips, enjoying the way you shudder. Hips continue to buck into her face immediately, desperate to be eaten. She giggles. Even if you are making her feel like she might explode at any given moment, Abby knows you are so much worse. She knows your swollen clit must be pulsating, aching for an ounce of attention, a swipe of her tongue, a light brush of her fingers — something.

“Mhm, such a pretty pussy, baby.” Abby kissing your inner thighs, getting so close to where you need her to be, but not quite to where you want her. “How bad do you want me to fuck your cunt?” She grins as you whimper, but you know better than to stop eating her out.

“Good girl.” Abby praises you as she runs a finger up your slit, feeling just how wet you are, thighs softly twitching as she sinks a finger into your hole, finding satisfaction in how tightly you’re clenching around her. Thumb swiping at your clit, “See what happens when you’re good.”

Abby wastes no time, not a single moment, her mouth pouncing on you with no further warning. A shriek rips out from the back of your throat, the vibration against her pussy sends a shiver down her spine. She’s slow with the movement of her tongue, sliding it between your folds, flicking it against your clit until she’s wrapping her lips around the bud, and sucking hard.

The whines and whimpers she’s always so greedy to hear tumbling from between your lips is muffled by her cunt, almost banished from making it’s way into the room as she curls her fingers just enough to have your lips sucking on Abby’s clit harder. A certain kitten lick of your tongue on her clit has her head falling forward against the pillow with a guttural moan. The sound has you clenching tightly around the long thick fingers she’s slowly working deeper in your pussy.

“Knew your mouth was fucking slutty,” Abby shivered, hips jerking up and trying to grind harder against your mouth. A mouth that she would die without. “S’good, keep it up, you can do that, can’t you?” She mocked, knowing you have no room to say anything. Not when you were eating her out like she would be your last meal.

“It’s a shame isn’t it? That you can’t even use your fingers this time. Know how much you like to make me cum on them, maybe next time, hm?” Abby taunted, using the tip of her tongue, sliding it up and down your inner thighs, collecting your slick in her wake. The taste of you on the muscle had her eyes rolling in the back of her head, pressing her thumb against your clit and rubbing the slowest yet dangerous circles. Enjoying the way you tremble above her. “Awh, so close already? Barely fucking touched you.”

Her words have you whining into her cunt, humming around her clit and the blood rushes to her head at the obscene, loud sounds of you lapping at her pussy messily. Her slick runs down your chin, a sight she’s seen hundreds of times before when you’re between her legs, and drops down onto her legs and bedsheet. “Don’t have to see you to know you’re messy” She growled from below you, curling her fingers against that spot deep inside you perfectly, grinning lazily when your legs clench around her head. “Yeah, I know you love it, angel.” You can already picture her fucking smirk without having to look at her. Abby was cocky, and she sure as hell knew how to make you a trembling mess at all her touches. No matter if you were tied up or not.

Sucking softly at her clit, you hummed deliciously when her thighs twitched, hips still grinding up against your mouth, fucking herself shamelessly on your tongue. “That’s a good girl, wanna make me cum so bad, don’t you?” Another mock fell from between her lips. “I feel bad i tied you up, would love your fingers deep in my pussy right now” She sighed, fucking her fingers in and out of your pussy at a pace that isn’t enough to make you cum, like you wanted, but enough to have you whining and on the edge of something she was willing to give you if you behaved.

It’s when her fingers deliciously slide in your cunt, rubbing at the certain spot that has your body going limp within seconds, that she’s spent hours brutally hitting with her cock, that you’re crying out around her clit, the sound still slightly muffled but you somewhat find movement and ground down against her fingers. “So fucking needy.” The blonde murmured, wrapping one of her arms around your hips and keeping you still above her as the pace of her fingers picked up again. “You want my fingers that bad? Fine, I'll give you them.”

You barely have time to understand what she means, because she crooks her fingers in a way that has you pulling away from her cunt, the growl she lets out makes your legs crush your head entirely, yours resting on her ass, unable to focus on anything but her fingers stuffing you full.

“Do you feel it, baby?” Abby doubles down on her efforts, thumb swiping at your clit, fingers so deep as she fucks against your grinding hips. “Just like that. Is my pretty girl close? Gonna show me what a good girl you are and cum for daddy?”

“Please, shit shit shit, Abby—” The curses continue to tumble from your lips, one after the other they fall, a lovely melody falling on Abby’s ear as it supplies her with the last effort she needs. The desperate cry from her lover’s mouth, the brat disappearing for the time being, all that’s left is the woman she loves so intensely crying for relief. The only thing she wishes is to see you. Bright eyed, struggling to keep them open or your canines sinking into your lips so harshly you pull at your chapped lip, drawing blood as you attempt to hold yourself together. Most of all she wonders if she has you so close to the edge, so incredibly close the tears are beginning to well up in your eyes.

But she doesn’t get to see any of it, so she’ll have to settle for the weeping sight of your cunt rather than your eyes. Abby’s not sure which one she loves more at the moment.

“C’mon, want you to paint my face in your cum. Can you do that? I know you haven’t wanted to obey tonight, but can you do this one thing for me?” You feel one of her fingers tease your puckered hole, using the slick coating her finger to tease the sensitive hole while she fucks the other. “Been begging for it, yeah? So, give it to me.” You feel her fingers teasing your cervix as you finally give in.

Every bone in your body submits to her, as it always does, you become hers as she claims in a way anyone else fails to do. It’s just the two of you, even if you’re unable to see her blissed out dilated blues, drunk on your cunt. The way she soothes you with her fingers, gently fucking you through your high, giving you just the right amount.

Then it’s there.

The slight gush squirting out of you and onto her face. Abby smiles wickedly and she immediately laps at your pussy. Obnoxiously and loudly, she makes a theatrical performance of it, making sure you can hear every suck she makes as she creates a makeshift funnel into her mouth, not being able to control herself. Sweetly, she doesn’t allow a single drop go to waste.

“Feel s’good Abby, I can’t—” Your body softens as you ride the end of your high. Abby can feel your breath on her cunt, sending a shiver up her spine.

“Shh, I know, I got you.” Abby sweetly remarks, her tongue moving gently and sweetly as she’s unable to stop herself from pushing you through, her fingers fucking you until you’re spent.

Slowly, yet tiredly, once Abby’s had her fun, you press more of your weight on her, head resting comfortably on her toned thighs as you try to catch your breath. With the help of Abby rubbing your back slowly, you smiled into her skin and sighed.

Exhausted of not being able to touch her, you free yourself from the tie minutes later, ripping it into two, but she pins with the strength of her arms. Quick to hold you down, even when you want to move, Abby does it faster than you can comprehend. She licks the remainder of your cum with her tongue, savoring every last bit, enjoying the shake of your thighs. Abby slaps your cunt, you moan out her name, still sensitive from the earth-shattering orgasm you’d been given.

Abby is sporting a grin so sinister, you believe it nearly rivals a succubus closing in on it’s prey. Shifting her position, her pelvis against yours, her blond bush prickling your pussy, but she’s too strong for you to move underneath her muscular frame — leaving no room for debate. Sparkling, golden waves falling over her shoulder, freckles littered across her body as if they were her own galaxy being created, a universe unique to her. Every inch of her is more exquisite than the next, you don’t understand anyone who doesn’t appreciate her as the beautiful, loving, angel she is. She should never be treated as anything but. You want to give her the world, everything good in the world she deserves, and you hope it’s not too late for her to see it just as you do.

Doesn’t hurt she fucks like her life depends on it.

“You gonna be good for me and fucking take it?” Abby shifts your legs so it lays over her shoulder, lazily spitting on your pussy, enjoying the soft sigh escaping your body. It’s evil, maniacal even, torturing you like this but you can’t help but buck your hips. Trying to chase the high, she’d just given you.

“So eager. Even after I made you come all over my face. Greedy baby.” Abby slaps your cunt once again, she takes pleasure in the way your body twitches, convulsing for more. The way you’re moving your hips, needing her to give you what she knows you’ve needed. Too stubborn, too selfish, and too fucking horny to stay away from the chiseled greek goddess.

“Do you wanna feel my clit on yours baby? Is this what you want?” Abby moves her hips forward as she hikes your leg further on her toned shoulder. “You wanna feel how wet I am for you? Mhm, s’what you’ve been needing, just me and my cunt on yours. It’s all a filthy whore needs. Isn’t that right?”

“Abby, baby, yes. That. Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

“That’s right, I’m fucking perfect.” Abby gives you one thrust, enjoying the soft bounce of your tits, head half-craned and slumped against the headboard as you’re rendered helpless under her strong weight. The euphoric bliss you’re offered when she decides to be generous and over a steady pace.

Small, pierced nipples harden as she continues her ministrations, she feels every nerve ending of her body on fire. Even if she enjoys you teasing with her, acting like you’re in control, calling the shots, this is where you belong. A needy whore begging for more of her. This time it’s her cunt you need, her dripping and weeping pussy connecting with your own. You need to feel how wet she is, both of your clits rubbing against each other. The bundle of nerves colliding together over, and over, and over. Abby’s slick mixed with your own, so much you can feel is dripping near your puckered hole, unexplored territory you know you’d let her explore.

Abby see’s the red markings on your stomach, her being the maker of the scratches, too blissed out to control herself. She traces them with a delicate hand, a silent apology for being too rough with you. Something physical, tangent even, on how you make her feel. If she’s being honest with herself, you’re the only one who makes her feel anything. It’s why she comes back to you, even when the little angel on her shoulder tells her she shouldn't, that it’s wrong. When the guilt threatens to eat her alive, she sees your smile, hears your laugh that would put a symphony to shame. Better yet, she still has the privilege to make you feel good. To try and do everything in her power to make you feel as great as you make her feel.

But you don’t know any of it.

This. You. Her. All of it may be fleeting. She might not choose you. This might be a short fling before she ties the knot with this stupid man she claims she’ll leave. You can’t put your money on it, but you’ll bet on her thinking about you for the rest of her life if she wishes to stay with a man. One that will never deserve her.

Owen will never know Abby the way you do and you’ll do anything you can to make her see it.

“You are. Everything about you is perfect. Those beautiful blues I wanna get lost in for hours. The lips I never want to leave me. The hands I want on me all the time, the ones I think about whenever I’m alone and I don’t have you there to fuck me.” You spill out, causing Abby to become over eager to please, her hips thrusting harder against yours, chasing the feeling she feels building within her.

She whimpers, again.

You’ve lost count on how many have left her tonight. It’s the hope you’re clinging onto. The vulnerability she never lets leak but tonight she does. Never has she been so vocal about what she wants, but after tonight’s fight, the threat of you leaving, Abby’s desperate to keep you. Even if wants to pretend like she’s in control, the look on those worrisome pools of blue tells you something different.

“Feesl, s’good, shit.” Abby’s blissed out face, head thrown back as she sinks into the feeling. With a clenched jaw, she grinds down into your pussy, her swollen clit pulsating, feeling your cum gravitate towards her cunt. As if this is what it was meant for, you, her — destined to find another.

Again. Again. Again.

Her pale skin becomes flush, rises of pink and red expands on her toned chest, her abs clenching causing each ridged lined more defined as she fucks you into another dimension. She coaxes you into her warm, slippery pussy like it’s a lion’s den. The cage is meant to keep you in, designed to never be released from the sharp canines breaking into your skin, the claws she’s managed to dig in, the strength she exhibits each time she stalks you like her prey.

The false pretenses, the way she fluffs you with small affections, begging to be petted and played with but then tears at the skin she helped heal. Even if it leaves you bloody, clenching your chest to find one final breath, the appetite for her never ceases to exist. When she draws the last drop of blood from your veins, you’ll thank her with a gleeful smile.

Deeply, you want Abby to feel this lush high, this euphoric feeling rushing to her head, making her impossibly drunk on you as she cries out for more, you want her to feel every bit of it knowing he’ll never give this to her. He’s a fool in the eyes of goddesses alike, a simple servant to keep her in a mediocre rise of security. A placeholder, a pathetic one at that. Too incredibly vain to swallow a meaningless ego to offer what she really needs but you’ll do it gleefully in a blink of an eye.

He could never give her what she deserves.

The divine feminine found between your thighs, the sweet nectar she’s spent hours lapping at into all hours of the night, leaving before the sun rises. The walk of shame back to her apartment, glimpses of you never leaving her as she goes about her day.

This will be just another image burned in her brain, you underneath her body, taking everything she’s giving but it’s so much more intimate than either of you even planned for. The altercation from earlier in the night fizzled out the moment her lips met yours.

Abby’s palm grips onto the headboard, gaining leverage as she fucks you. “Open your fucking mouth, such a big one, huh? Definitely showed me how much tonight, so, do it again.” Using her strong grip, she squeezes your chin, applying pressure as you obey her willfully. Your lips forming at her wish, she continues to get off, the euphoric sounds of your cunt echoing through the room as you give her everything she wants.

The her spit drips onto your mouth, pupils dilated as she watches you accept it with a sparkle gleaming in your eyes. Bright and beautiful as you thrust your hips against, enjoying yourself even more with her spit in your mouth. Obnoxiously, you swallow loudly, moaning as you do.

“Can you spit on my pussy? Please? I know m’already soaked, but I need it.” You request sweetly, knowing she’s less likely to reject you if you’re sweet about it. Instead, she places her hand on your throat, decorating it beautifully with her rough grip.

Just like that, the woman who loves you, attends to your every need, evaporates into thin air and the one who aims to take control over your very essence is back. The one who likes to push you over the edge until she feels like you’re satisfied enough is back.

Abby isn’t going to stop until you’ve soaked every inch of her mattress. The one she slept in last night, Owen by her side, but now she believes it needs a level of christening.

Extending her long fingers, she pulls at your bottom lip with her thumb applying more pressure at your neck. “Do you think you’re really in a position to ask for anything? Be grateful that you even get to feel my pretty pussy, yeah? Shouldn’t even be fucking my pretty girl after the shit you pulled today.”

“M’sorry, okay? Fuck, please, please— can you forgive me? I just wanted to…” Then before you can even take a moment to breathe, she’s giving you something to choke on. Long, thick, fingers crawling their way down your throat, tickling the back of it, you feel the coolness of her rings lay left on your lips.

“There.” Abby sighs in content while she grins with greed. “Needed something to shut you up, angel. Don’t cry though, it’ll be my cock next time for your second punishment.” You try to speak but it just comes out as murmurs, incoherent mumbles as Abby fucks your harder than she has all night. She continues to grip the headboard, each thrust more powerful than the last.

“This what you fucking need. Someone to fuck the brat out of you, so, shut the fuck up and take it.” Abby commands as she moans when she sees your eyes roll back in heightened bliss, “Forgetting how I just made you feel already? I know, brats have a hard time remembering. Daddy needs to make you cum again, huh?”

“Abs, m’so sensitive. I don’t think I can.” You confess, but Abby continued to fuck you harder, the power of her thrusts unrelenting. With each thrust, her folds sliding against your own as you take what she gives. “No? Should have thought about that before you decided to mouth off to me, again.”

She shifts your leg over to her other hip, bending you like her own makeshift pretzel, maneuvering you to her will as she fucks you from a better angle. Abby cockily grins as your mouth forms a soft o shape, your breath hiccups as you moan even louder. Your hands grip on her waist as she rides you. All you can do is look upon her in awe, she’s a goddess like this. She always is but not even Owen could see her like you do. He would never be capable of appreciating her just the way she comes.

Muscles like an adonis, perfectly carved, the veins in her arms protrude as she grabs the headboard. Everything about her seems hard, rough, defined but has the sensual hips of the most entrancing woman alive. The way she rolls them with purpose, a dance she’s choosing to partake in, one that she loves very much. Unable to stop even if she tried.

Yet it’s her big and bright blues which give her away. For the first time, you see her clearly. Beautiful, bright, and in love. She’s never looked at you the way she is now. Maybe she always did but this time she’s letting you see the love laced underneath. Not ashamed of the softness of her emotions, the one she’s always held like a burden, she carries it strongly.

You want to let her pull the words from your mouth, but she pulls at the bud between your thighs, claiming it as hers, waiting for you to give in to her. Abby’s just as strong as she is stubborn. Even if she’s already made you cum, she won’t let herself go until she gets it from you one more time.

“Pretty, pretty, girl. Just one more time, m’kay? Need to see those gorgeous eyes roll back,” Freeing one of her hands, she picks up the ripped tie as she trickles the soft material down your abdomen, “God, i need to see it. My beautiful angel, always so gorgeous and mine.”

The silk feels good against your skin but you need her. You pull on her hair, bringing her close to you as Abby buries her head in the crook of your neck. For the first time tonight, she allows herself to whimper in your ear. Submitting herself to you in a way she’s never done with anyone. Abby loses it when you stroke her hair gently.

As much as she’s hellbent on making you come first, you have another objective on your mind.

“And you’re mine. Only mine.” Abby whimpers, her hips slowing down as you buck up into hers, leading the pace as she gives into you. “C’mon, my sweet girl, let it all go. I have you, m’never letting go, promise.”

With a notion of protection and sealed love, Abby lets go. Every bit of her slumps against you as she finds her release, you follow after her as you slowly grind into her, letting her coast through the high as she nearly growls in your ear, chants of your name leaving like a prayer. A sworn faithfulness to the only person she’s truly loved, cradling her as if she’s done no harm. As if she’s just as good and pure as you believe she is.

With her forehead pressed against yours, her blue eyes void of any cockiness, she squeezes them shut as she regains to catch her breath. Lazily, pulling a sheet over you both as it rests on her waist, protecting you with her warmth. Abby wonders if your heart beats as rapidly as hers, fingers tangled in her golden waves as you gently bring swollen pink lips to you. Basking in the way she molds perfectly to you as if this moment, you and her, meant to be fated.

One of her rough hands runs up and down your back, as the other grips your chin between her fingers, pulling you more into her as you share yet another soft and slow kiss. A kiss that has you smiling into her mouth as her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, teeth nipping at skin. “Needy,” You can’t help but giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as Abby simply just shrugged and grinned up at you.

“Can you blame me? You’re addicting.” She stated like it was the most obvious thing you’ve ever heard. “Your lips are so soft, so that’s another reason why i like kissing you”

“That's the only reason? My lips are soft?” You cocked your head to the side, fingers tracing the slope of her nose slowly, amused at the way she crunches it up cutely when you cup her face. “You have pretty lips, a pretty nose, a pretty everything” You listed, leaning down to place a kiss between her furrowed eyebrows. “You have a pretty heart that is made of gold”

“I wouldn’t say that much about my heart. It’s caused a lot of pain lately.” Abby mutters sadly, fingers wrapping around your wrist and placing your hand on her cheek. “M’sorry for how I've treated you. Especially during this trip, a trip that was supposed to be so special and i kept fucking it up.”

“You’re here with me now, that’s all that matters, Abs. We matter, you matter.” Your voice was quiet, but with the close distance you shared with her, she heard it loud and clear. Your heart thumping loudly in your chest when she leans more into the palm of your hand, closes her and hums gently. “You are so beautiful, I didn't think I could be this in love with someone, not like I am with you. You mean everything to me, and I want to show you just how much.”

Your confession has her eyes snapping open again, baby blues peering into yours so vulnerable, that you were worried she was about to get up and flee again. It always happened when you got too much into your feelings and feelings towards Abby. But she didn’t, instead, a shy smile appeared on her lips and a crimson blush coated the apples of her cheeks, her skin hot under your touch. “You don’t have to say anything—”

“I love you with all my heart.”

The confession is ruined by the sound of the door slamming against the wall, and it startles you both. Abby’s moving to cover your body, protecting your vulnerability and being so exposed before her own. Her eyes quickly widen at the sight of Owen standing there. His chest is rising up and down, panting like he’s just ran a marathon. He’s looking between you both, at you longer than he is at Abby, but he’s looking.

For a few seconds he doesn’t do anything, he just stands there with no idea what to do or say. Luckily Abby feels the same, and she just glares at him down with a subtle growl that has you biting down on your lip. Your eyes quickly look back over at Owen with a grin. “Can you shut the door on the way out? You’re ruining everything right now, i would like to fuck the woman of my dreams, again, and you are stopping me from doing that” You can’t help but huff. “You didn’t treat her like the Queen she is, but don’t worry, i will.”

Abby doesn’t know whether to laugh or choke on the spit forming in her mouth the second the words fly out of yours.

Any other time, Owen would have caused a scene, woke everyone up with how loud he shouts, but this time he doesn’t. He knows it’s his fault, him to be blamed for Abby needing someone else. He barely gave her the time of day, and pushed her away for someone who wasn’t his girlfriend. Apart of him knew this day would come, she would leave him for you, he just didn’t think it would happen like this. So with one final look, he’s turning on his heels, bolting out of the room and slamming the door behind him. Not wasting a single second to get out of there.

Leaving you both there, giggling.

Shaking her head at you, Abby cups her face between your hands not even seconds later, repeatedly placing kisses on your lips and melts at the sound as you both fall back onto the bed, in each others space, like you’ve always meant to be with hushed whispers, and promises into each others mouth.

“It’s always been you. I love you, always and forever.”

It’s safe to say, Owen won’t ever be tasting you again.

taglist: @hypnagogics @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay @pa-co @rkivedpages @abbyspup @lucidfairies @liizzygrant @yourfriendlyneighborhoodeden @iluvme9 @angelynn-nicole @hearts4joongie @moonyvs4 @loveyru @imdrowningindispair @random-fag @swinesb @spacewlf @callmewhenyoukan @princesssmars @girlg3n1us @co0kiemuncher @kl1q @graviewaviee @antonellavanella @chuutzuyu @mystellenia @mabels-trashcan @i-feel-violated

#let us know what you think!#mwah ♡#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby amderson tlou2 #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fluff #abby andersom angst #abby anderson fanfiction

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littleprinces · 6 months ago

Text

712 Times

(Weeekly Han Jihyo x Male Reader, A lot of Degrading, Rope Play, Pet Play, Vibrator, Nipple Clamps, Daddy kink, titfucking, Idol Jihan)

(this is my first collab with @smutoperator)

Happy Jihan Day!

In the dimly lit backstage of a bustling concert hall, excitement and anticipation filled the air. The stage was set for our highly anticipated comeback showcase, and I could hear the eager fans waiting on the other side of the curtain. Amidst the scattered crew members and bustling assistants, I stood there, my heart racing with a mixture of pride and longing. My girlfriend, Jihan, the enchanting idol, was out there performing with her group.

Tonight was special. After months of preparation, sweat, and tireless dedication, my girlfriend and her five group members were making their grand return to the spotlight. The thought of her captivating presence on stage brought a smile to my lips, but it also reminded me of the distance fame had placed between us. Yet, I cherished these moments when I could be near her, even if only from the shadows.

The muffled cheers of the audience reached my ears as the performance began. I could almost see her in my mind—her bright smile, graceful movements, and sheer charisma that made her an idol adored by many. As each song concluded, the applause grew louder, affirming the group's triumphant return. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, but finally, the showcase came to an end. The stage lights dimmed, and the audience's applause gradually faded.

I took a deep breath, my anticipation growing. Moments later, the backstage area buzzed with activity as the performers filed in, surrounded by their entourage. And then I saw her—my girlfriend, her face glowing with the exhilaration of the performance. As the performance ended and the backstage area buzzed with activity, I finally saw her making her way towards me. Her face lit up as she spotted me, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"You were amazing out there," I said, pulling her into a tight hug. She laughed softly, a little out of breath. "Thank you. I could feel your support the whole time." "I wouldn't miss it for the world," I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You always shine so brightly." She blushed, leaning in for a quick kiss. "It's because I have you cheering me on. It makes all the difference."

We lingered in each other's arms for a moment longer before I asked, "Ready to head home?" She nodded eagerly. "Absolutely. Let's get out of here." Hand in hand, we made our way through the backstage chaos, slipping out to the quiet comfort of her apartment. In the car, she sighed contentedly. "I missed this. Just being with you, without all the noise."I squeezed her hand. "Me too. Let's make the most of tonight." As we reached her apartment and settled in, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us.

Jihan's new blonde hair made her look so hot it felt like she was 712 times more fuckable with it. Her 20th birthday was just a couple days away, so I felt like it was the perfect time to show her how much I wanted it and turn her into my personal pet. I tied her ankles and cuffed her hands, ready to dominate her and make her transition from an innocent teenager into a full-fledged slut. She had never ventured into this kind of relationship before, but I could tell she was really excited to try it.

I picked up a crop and gave Jihan's pussy a few taps that made her moan, teasing her on the apartment's couch as I quickly pulled her panties to the side. "Put your tongue out," I told her, giving it a few taps. After a few light hits in her clit, I took her bra off and started spanking her big tits with it, having fun with her sexy young body, before switching to using my own hands to grope her tits and finger her perfect pussy.

"I'm just teasing you, there is much more to come," I told Jihan, giving her body a few spanks. "What do you want little whore?" I asked her. "I want this fucking cock," she said with a soft voice. I answered her wishes, unzipping my pants for her to suck it, giving her back some light taps as Jihan slowly got my cock wet with her sloppy blowjob that made her tits bounce freely, while I reached to tap them from time to time.

"I see you like to take that cock deep in your throat; you suck it so good," I told her. I grabbed Jihan by her beautiful blonde hair, reaching to get a whip as she took my cock all the way down her throat. Shortly after, I started spanking her and then moved to fuck her pretty face. "You like that?" I asked her. "Ahhhh, yeah," Jihan moaned. "Say it." I increased the speed of the spanking, hitting her back multiple times. "Oh, I love it, Daddy," Jihan replied.

"Be a good girl; get on your knees on the couch and show me those tits," I demanded of her. Jihan gave me a cute stare and squeezed her big boobs between her tied-up arms. "What do you want, Jihan? My big cock after the showcase?" I asked her. "Yes, please, Daddy, please put it between my tits," she begged.

I did just that and started banging Jihan's big boobs. Quickly, I got back to spanking her. "Yes, yes, please, Daddy, spank me; I'm a bad girl, i'm your private whore" Jihan says, her eyes begging for me to dominate her as my meat got sandwiched between her big pair of tits. "Keep going, keep going, bounce those big tits in my cock," I said to her.

I show Jihan not only can I spank it with my whip, using my cock to hit her tits. "You like the way I treat your big tits?" I asked her. "Yes, daddy," she says. "You want that big dick inside you, Jihan?" I keep asking. "Please, Daddy," she says. "Maybe later, I'll think about it, but you'll have to deserve it," I tell her.

I tie Jihan to the couch's leg and start eating her pussy. "Don't cum, bitch, or you're not going to get my cock for tonight," I tell her. Her pussy turns into my playground as I massage it while kissing her and sucking her big milkers. My hands go deep down in her cunt, and soon I bring a cock-shaped vibrator into the mix, putting it on Jihan's mouth. "Get it wet; you'll have to take it your pussy to show me you deserve my cock," I tell her.

I move the vibrator into Jihan's entrance, slowly tucking it in her pussy as I turn it on, making her moan hard. I also pay special attention to her already erected nipples, massaging and sucking them multiple times as Jihan is already collapsing in pleasure before I even got inside her. Then I use the crop for some extra taps in her boobs to tease her.

I ran the crop around Jihan's thighs, spanking the area close to her pussy. "Count to ten each time I spank it," I tell her. "One, two, three, AHHHHH," Jihan says every time I hit her. I move up and go back to tease her boobs and then play further with the vibrator, turning Jihan into a mess of begging and moaning. "Stay strong. If you cum, you won't get Daddy's cock," I tell her.

After a long warming-up session, I'm finally ready to fuck the brains out of my girlfriend turned pet, removing the vibrator from Jihan's already extremely wet pussy. "Get back on the couch and turn around; I want you to show me that ass," I demand of her. Jihan gets on all fours in the couch, and as soon as she does, I violently whip her butt multiple times. "AH, AH, AH, AH," she screams. "Tell me what you want," I ask her. "YOUR COCK INSIDE ME," she screams.

Jihan's panties get pulled down as I marvel at the view of her perfect ass. More spanking ensues. "Little Slut wants my cock inside of her?" I keep asking. "YES, DADDY, GIVE ME ALL OF IT," she begs, screaming again. "Why do you want it?" I keep teasing. "Because it's so good, I want to be a good pet for Daddy, his little big tit cocksleeve," Jihan replies.

"Then take it," I say, putting my cock on Jihan's pussy and pounding her hard on all fours. "YES, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," she screams as I dominate her and spank her back and ass with my bare hands. Jihan's pussy get mercilessly fucked, her big boobs already bouncing hard. I treat her like a fleshlight. "Spank me, daddy, spank me, please," she says as I abuse her asscheeks and quickly make them red, enjoying how far that makes her boobs jiggle.

"OHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKK," Jihan screams as I keep attacking her pussy hard and deep. Her bouncy tits are such a spectacle, and her needy face even more so. Good lord, I could fuck her for 712 straight hours and never get tired of it.

"Pull my hair, please, Daddy, and spank me more," Jihan begs as I push her hot body closer to mine. That little horny pet keeps getting obliterated as I show no signs of slowing down, giving her tight young pussy the pounding it deserves. "AHHHHHH," Jihan screams again as I do it just as she asks. "You told me to do that; don't complain, little slut," I tell her.

"DADDY, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, OHHHHHHH," Jihan screams. I spank and fuck her even harder when I hear those words, fully mounding on top of her. Face down, ass up like a good slut, I treat Jihan like an object, only useful to get stretched out by my raging boner. She can only moan and scream as her big tits get pancaked against the couch each time I hit her deep in the pussy.

"Come here, little whore, show me how much you want to sit on that cock," I tell her, flipping Jihan back and feeding her face full of cock with no breaks in between. "Good slut, look at those beautiful bouncy tits; you're so good," I say to her. Jihan presses her beautiful, cute face against my cock, and I fully take her panties off and order her to suck my prick as I lie on the couch, spanking her while she does it. "Keep sucking that cock," I tell her as she tries to resist all that spanking.

"Sit that wet pussy in there," I soon demand, spanking Jihan's already red butt as soon as she puts my cock back inside her. Her big, bouncy boobs are already within range as Isuck them every time they come close to my face. "Give those titties to Daddy," I say, quickly taking control as I pound Jihan from down low and attack her tits with my tongue and her ass with my hands.

"Come on, use that cock; show me how much you like it," I tell Jihan, who's never been stimulated like that. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she screams. "Cum all over that fucking cock," I say, pounding her like crazy as Jihan collapses on top of my body. But I don't care and just keep fucking her throbbing cunt, also fingering her asshole to add to the stimulation, making Jihan cover my cock full of juices, using the crop to add to the ass-spanking of her.

I keep fucking Jihan nonstop as she clings onto my arms. She may be on top, but I completely own her. My girlfriend is turned into a free-use fleshlight who can't stop cumming on my cock. "Ride that fucking cock, slut," I demand of her, who bounces her red ass on it like a good slut. "Is that what you want, right little fuckdoll?" I tell her. "YES, DADDY," she replies.

I dive my face into Jihan's udders while she keeps riding my pole, her boobs hitting my mouth from every angle, making me go even more feral as her pussy is fully stretched out. "Stand up on the couch," I tell her as I pull out of her pussy, but my cock gets quickly replaced by my fingers massasing her core and making her squirt fountains of juices right straight into my mouth.

More riding ensues, as I'm now just watching Jihan do it in a straightened position, reaching with my hands and my crop to hit her big bouncy tits at will. Soon, I'm back to hitting Jihan's whole body: her pretty slutty face, her fully shaved pink pussy, her sexy butt, but first and foremost her massive milkers. "KEEP STRETCHING MY HOLES, DADDY," Jihan screams as I do just that.

After I'm done with this round of fucking, I let Jihan taste all the juices she coated my cock with, giving a gift to my cute pet as she bobs her head all over that big shaft. "Choke on that fucking cock," I tell her. "Now give me those tiddies," I quickly demand as Jihan spits between them and uses her boobs to massage my throbbing cock until you shot my load all over them.

"Damn, look at the mess I made on your big milkers," I told Jihan. But I was far from done, picking some clamps and placing them at her cum-covered nipples. "Your day as my pet is just beginning," I said. Next, I placed a dog collar on her neck and gave her an order. "Get on all fours; we're going to a different room, and I'm gonna fuck your even more," I told her. Jihan obeyed and crawled like a puppy until we reached our next destination.

Waiting for Jihan, there was an X-cross where I tied her up. As I slowly got myself hard again, I sucked her big tits and reached inside her wet pussy, teasing my pet girlfriend. "This is way more entertaining than what I was expecting," I tell Jihan. "Ohhh, yesss, Daddy, you like treating me like your pet?" Jihan asks. "A lot," I say as I start jerking off my cock and quickly get it back to throbbing hard for Jihan.

I slap my cock on Jihan's sexy thighs as I kiss her and finger her core. She starts moaning back again as I lift her left leg and put my cock back in her pussy. "Oh yes, that feels so good," Jihan says as I thrust my cock in and out of her cunt. "Just like that, Daddy," she says. I put her back on her feet and sucked her tits. "Such a good toy," I say.

I pick up the crop back and spank her ass, then tease her boobs and circle it around her nipples; more ass spanking follows as a tied-up Jihan can't do anything to stop me. Her boobs once again get the most attention as I do the sucking and spanking at the same time, before moving down into her pink pussy.

"What are you going to do next, Daddy?" Jihan asks. "You'll find out soon," I tell her. "Please, let me find out, Daddy," an already numb Jihan replies as I tease her clit with the crop. "But first I need to eat," I say, diving into her wet pussy to suck it. "Damn, daddy, that feels so good; I love that tongue," Jihan says.

"Does that pussy taste good enough for Daddy?" Jihan asks as she starts trembling, getting very weak as she's being held at the cross. "All my body is tingling, Daddy," she says as I move up to suck her tits and feed your fingers in her mouth.

"I want to fuck you from behind while you are standing," I tell Jihan. "Yes, Daddy, do whatever you want," she replies. I untie Jihan from the cross as she sucks my cock to get it back wet. "All I want to do is please you, Daddy," she says. "Then please me taking more cock in that pussy," I say, getting behind her and stretching her out once again, loving how the clamps on her nipples are bouncing when I fuck her.

"Is that pussy good enough for Daddy? Nice and wet, like you want it? Am I a good girl, Daddy?" Jihan keeps asking, but I let my thursts do the talk as her pussy starts queefing. "Yes, daddy, please, use my fucking hole," she says as my hips clap against her cheeks.

"Please keep fucking me; I'm Daddy's pet; that cock feels so good; please don't stop; Daddy loves my pussy," Jihan says as I indeed can't stop, giving her the special fucking I craved for, spending long minutes taking her from behind.

Jihan coats the floor with her squirt, and as soon as she does, I take it as a sign to push it harder. I lift Jihan's body up and start carry-fucking her. "OH MY GOD, DADDY," she screams as I attack her pussy while being the only one holding her so she doesn't fall off. "OH DADDY, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM AGAIN," an exausted Jihan says.

"No, you're gonna make me cum," I tell Jihan, brining her back to the couch and putting her sideways. "Your cock feels so good in my tight little pussy, daddy," Jihan says as she gets a good spooning fuck on the couch. After a while, I take her off of it and pin her against the glass, giving her another pounding. "Please, Daddy, give me more," she begs. It seems like I have fucked Jihan throughout the entire apartment at this point, but I just don't want to stop.

More spanking in Jihan's butt follows. "Harder, harder, please fuck me harder, Daddy," she begs, as she can barely stand up at this point. I have fucked her for around 30 minutes, but to her it must have felt like 3 hours considering how hard I have screwed her little pink pussy.

Jihan can barely walk at this point, but that won't stop me from using her for more pleasure. I feed my cock in her face again as I put her tied hands up. "Are you ready for another surprise, little pet?" I ask her. "Yes, daddy," she replies.

I bring a Sybian for Jihan to sit on, taking the controller on my hands. I start slowly, letting the vibrating cock work in her pussy as I watch her get wetter and wetter while I grab her tits. Slowly picking up speed, I put Jihan at the mercy of the machine while I dive her head into my shaft and pinch her clamped nipples. More face-fucking ensues as the sybian now works at full speed inside Jihan's cunt, to the point she can't contain herself anymore.

"Ride that dick, little whore" I tell her as Jihan quivers with the intense vibration on the inside. My hands massaging her tits, my cock massaging her mouth, the toy massaging her pussy—it's just too much for her to handle as Jihan gets an exploding orgasm that makes her squirt all over the carpet just as she announces she's going to cum.

"AHHHHHHHHHH, AHHHHHHHHH, PLEASSSEEEEEE, FUCKKKKKKK," Jihan screams as she collapses after the intense Sybian massage. But I have one more massage to give her, laying her back on the couch, ready to finish where it all started as I put Jihan under a mating press and intensely pound her pussy.

"Give me every single massage of that fucking cock, daddy," Jihan says. "I want you to cum inside my pussy; I want you to give me every single drop," she begs. That truly surprises me. Jihan had not taken any birth control pills, meaning she was essentially begging me to impregnate her, and surely I was gonna take the opportunity, emptying my balls inside her shortly after she demands to get her tight pussy filled up.

"That was so good, Jihan; I hope we fuck like that 712 more times," you tell her. "Well, Daddy, my birthday is coming in a few days. I hope you have a special gift for your little pet," she replies.

"You bet I will," I promise her. And you know she can't wait.

Back in Jihan's pussy I go, and she loves it. "Yes, daddy, yes, please, use that pussy for your pleasure; my pussy is all yours," Jihan moans. "I fucked your friend Zoa in that position a month ago for her birthday; her legs were so fucking long and her pussy so fucking tight I couldn't resist and had to cum inside her," I brag to Jihan, talking about how I cheated on her with her groupmate straight to her face, risking no consequences whatsoever because I own her.

"Ride that dick," I tell her as Jihan quivers with the intense vibration on the inside. My hands massaging her tits, my cock massaging her mouth, the toy massaging her pussy—it's just too much for her to handle as Jihan gets an exploding orgasm that makes her squirt all over the carpet just as she announces she's going to cum.

"That was so good, Jihan; I hope we fuck like that 712 more times," you tell her. "Well, Daddy, my birthday is coming in a few days. I hope you have a special gift for your little pet," she replies.

"You bet I will," I promise her. And you know she can't wait.

#female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #weeekly smut #jihan smut #han jihyo

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sinnaminsuga · 10 months ago

Text

𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖉𝖏𝖆𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖙 - sub!hyunjin x sub!reader x dom!chan

wc: 2,804

cw: hyunjin is a slut, so is the reader, chan likes it that way. SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: while shooting the red lights mv chan noticed something about hyunjin and now he's got a theory he wants to test, he just needs your help.

a/n: was literally plagued with visions of overstimulating hyunjin and making him cry soooo this is what i ended up with. oops. also if there are any spelling errors pls don't tell me bc ive read this trash so many times trying to work it all out and if i have to re-read it again i might go blind.

sw: dirty talk, daddy kink, unprotected sex (pls be smarter than that), bondage, threesome, some gay shit, breeding, blowjobs, lingerie, deepthroating, general toughness, waxing poetic about hyunjins beautiful face. idk probably more but im bad at this shit.

hwang hyunjin is beautiful. its a well documented fact, no ifs ands or buts about it. he has the kind of face ancient civilizations would have gone to war for. old world dynasties would have been reduced to rubble over a face like his. hwang hyunjin is the kind of beautiful where it almost hurts to look at him. it makes you question your belief in a higher power because, how could there possibly be any room for debate on if there is a God when there is simply no other reasonable explanation for how a devine creature like him came to exist on this earth? so with all that being said, there's no way he could get any more beautiful. or so you thought.

it had always been your assumption that there was no possible way he could look any more stunning than he naturally does; but your mind was changed the minute you saw the lithe expanses of his smooth milky skin held captive by blood red ropes. you felt an astounding amount of pride as your eyes bore witness to his soft flesh being pulled tight by the coarse material; the blood under his skin rushing to the surface where the ropes were knotted artfully over his collarbone, across his abdomen, splayed over his pelvis, looped around his upper thighs and finally circling the base of his dick. and you had worked hard to make sure the knots around his wrists and ankles were comfortable yet sturdy before attaching them to each bedpost.

you had taken your instructions very seriously, as the man giving them to you from edge of the bed, wouldn't allow any of this to continue if either of you were to disobey his direct orders, and dear god you would rather die than see this endeavor be cut short.

you admired your handiwork a bit more before the rumbling of a particular voice hit your ears.

“how do you feel baby? is this what you wanted? y/n did a good job huh? you look so pretty.” chan spoke softly to hyunjin, absentmindedly petting his head. hyunjin looked up at his leader and nodded, unsure if he could speak without whining as the ropes pulled across his body with every move.

“yeah i knew you'd like this. the whole time we were shooting “red lights” i saw you ya know? the way your breathing got shallow when the staff chained you up. the way your eyes glazed over when they gave you instructions to pull against your restraints. god, standing above you on that bed, watching you writhe below me was a sight to see. my good boy just wanted to be tied up and used huh?” chan said to him, his finger hooked under hyunjin's chin forcing his head up to look him in the eyes. a whimper forced its way out of him as his hips instinctually bucked and the the sensation of the ropes took over.

you couldn't drag your eyes away from his lower body. the sharp angle of his hipbones jutting up to the ceiling as his cock drooled uncontrollably, the fluid flowing from his tip dribbling down to darken the rope wrapped snugly around the base of him. without even thinking you reached out and wrapped your hand around his shaft, you were just so overwhelmed with the desire to touch him. the feeling was unexpected and the sound that punched its way out of hyunjin's chest was glorious. his body attempted to curl in on itself but the ropes kept him firmly in place. you watched the range of emotions flicker over his face in rapid succession; surprise at your initial touch, pleasure from finally being granted a little stimulation, sensitivity from being denied his pleasure for so long, shock when he remembered the restraints keeping him spread open, frustration at not being able to move, and finally acceptance as he gave in to the languid stroking you were doing. he continued to toss as the pleasure took over, thrashing wildly against the mattress and moaning into the pillow.

hyunjin's noises were reduced to whimpers as chan’s hand squeezed around his jaw, directing hyunjin to look him in the eyes. “shhh baby boy, y/n is gonna make you feel good okay? you'll let her do that, won’t you? you'll lay there and take what i let her give you, understood? words please, jinnie.” chan cooed. “yes daddy. i'll be good for you, for her too i promise. i'll be your perfect boy just like always, i promise, please! god just please keep touching me!” hyunjin choked out, making chan grin. he leapt up from where he was perched on the edge of the bed and rounded the corner until he was standing behind you. you repressed a shudder as chan’s hand slid up your back, tracing over your spine and occasionally tripping over the straps of the lingerie set you were wearing. his hand glided up into your hair with ease until his palm cradled the base of your skull, then suddenly he locked his fingers to grab your hair firmly by the roots and pulled you upright so your back was against his chest as he angled your head to the left exposing the expanse of your neck. the suddenness of his movements caused you to lose your grip on hyunjin’s dick and he cried out from the loss of contact, his hips frantically bucking into the air in a fruitless attempt to find friction.

chan hummed as his lips made contact with the skin of your neck and continued as he licked, nipped, and sucked at your flesh. he hooked his chin over your shoulder as his right hand charted a course down your abdomen to the apex of your thighs where the pads of his thick fingers rubbed over your damp slit. when you could finally manage to pry your lids open, you locked eyes with hyunjin. he was practically panting watching chan devour your throat and palm your pussy. “so pretty y/n, y’look so pretty. like a dream. want to paint you one day, just like that.” he whispered. hyunjin's words and gaze coupled with chan's wandering hands and skilled mouth were almost enough to send you over the edge.

“now here’s what's next my loves. y/n, you're going to get on your knees, lean down on your elbows and suck hyunjin's pretty dick right into the back of your throat okay? i want you to take him as far as you can, and quickly. do not stop until i tell you to. not if he begs, not if he cries, not if he screams. got it?” you nodded as well as you could with his left hand still in your hair. chan released you and you quickly got into the position he had described, gently grabbing hold of hyunjin's cock. “i’m sorry jinnie, but you know i have to.” you quipped right before you took him into your mouth and as far into your throat as you could manage. the garbled noise that ripped its way out of hyunjin's throat threw you into over drive as you bobbed your head and sucked him like your life depended on it. he was groaning deeply and his limbs were flailing the best they could in his current predicament. his back arched up off the mattress so beautifully you wished chan would take a photo.

“fuck, fuck, FUCK. jesus chri- oh my god! y/n, sweetheart slow down- PLEASE! oh fuck i can- i can feel- fucking fuck. i can feel your throat squeezing me so tight!” hyunjin wailed throwing his head back, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as he grit his teeth.

suddenly chan’s hand made its way to your pussy again and you gasped around the thickness embedded in your throat causing hyunjin to hiss.

“crotchless panties angel? so proud of you. always so prepared for daddy huh? know just what i like.” chan muttered from behind you. you heard the telltale jingle of his belt being opened and the zipper being lowered on his jeans. he had already removed his shirt earlier so he was naked quickly, and he wasted no time before rubbing the head of his dick along your weeping folds.

“now i'm going to fuck you nice and deep the way you like and i want you to keep sucking my good boy okay?” chan said but before you could respond he shoved himself into you in one swift thrust. chan was not small in girth or length for that matter but the stretch you felt every time he fucked you open was delicious. you couldn't help but moan around the cock in your mouth which in turn caused hyunjin to scream at the unexpected vibration. chan’s laugh that followed was dark and proud, thrilled that he held so much power and that you both let him use it.

“fuuuuck sweet girl this cunt is always so fucking tight huh? doesn't matter how many times i fuck you or let someone else fuck you, you always snap right back. god i love being inside you.” chan growled as his hands gripped your hips and held you steady as he pummeled his way in and out of your slippery hole. the whole time he was fucking you, you were being forced onto hyunjin's cock as well, every moan muffled by the thickness battering your throat.

“hyunjin is y/n a good cocksucker? hmm? you think? you think she's better than you were?” chan taunted him as he drove himself inside you over and over again. “remember when we had our first one on one meeting? just me and you alone in the studio? i said 'hyunjin if you really are serious and want to stay in this group i need one thing from you’ do you remember that? i do.” you could hear the grin in his voice even if you couldn't see him. hyunjin groaned and mumbled what sounded like a yes. “i also remember how fast you sank to your knees and scrambled to try and open my belt. you thought i wanted you to suck me off to stay in the band. and you were so willing to give me whatever i wanted. all i was going to ask you for was your loyalty and your honesty in all things. but you offered up that pretty mouth quick as a bitch and who was i to say no?” chan laughed at the memory as he threw a foot up onto the bed to change the angle he was fucking into you from so he was now nailing your gspot on every thrust.

“y-yes i remember. ‘course i do. i knew w-what you were gonna ask me because felix told me beforehand what you were going to ask, what you asked a-all of them. i just- fuck yes keep sucking y/n im so close. i jus’ wanted you so bad i thought if i tried and y-you didn't want me back it would just be an easily brushed off m-misunderstanding.” hyunjin whined, his hands balled up into fists, knuckles white.

“y/n suck him dry. now.” chan ordered and you sucked harder pulling a squeal out of hyunjin. “go on sweet boy. go ahead and cum. you earned it.” chan encouraged as he delivered a heavy smack to your ass. your muffled yelp was the final straw and hyunjin came hard into your mouth, his body attempting to lurch off the bed. you swallowed everything down and pulled off of him, replacing your mouth with your hand. as chan continued to ram into you, you mirrored his thrusts with the fist wrapped tightly around hyunjin's still hard cock.

“stop stop stop please! god please i can- i can't take it! it's too sensitive please!” hyunjin cried. “yes you can baby. you can take it. trust me.” chan cooed. feeling bold you leaned forward once again and sucked hyunjin's tip harshly while lashing the tip of your tongue over his slit.

“FUCK! no no no no it's too m- too much. stop stop stop!” hyunjin continued to wail. he was begging you to relent but he also didn't use his safeword so you knew he didnt really want it to stop. the sound was like music to chan's ears and the rhythmic clenching of your cunt around him propelled him quickly toward his own orgasm.

“i'm gonna cum in you okay baby? gonna breed this pretty pussy, stuff it full of my cum. that what you want? yeah it is isn't it?” chan rambled and you moaned out a “yes please daddy” right before he exploded inside you. your hand around hyunjin never stopped moving and he was crying now. big fat tears rolling down his cheeks from the overstimulation.

chan pulled out of you and watched your hole flutter, pushing out his seed. he murmured a string of praises as he watched the glistening fluid drip out of you. you looked over your shoulder at him, jutting your lower lip out.

“daddy i didn't get to cum yet. can i?” you asked.

“go ahead baby. make yourself cum.” chan said with a wave of his hand and an evil grin etched on his face. you grinned right back before scrambling up hyunjin's body and straddling him.

“wh-what are you doing? oh...oh no. no no no. please it's so sensitive it's so so sensitive y/n i can't!” hyunjin hiccuped, tears still flowing. you leaned forward and ran your tongue up his cheek, lapping up the briny liquid seeping from his eyes. then you whispered “oh jinnie, don't you want me to feel good too? i worked so hard after all.” you reached behind you and positioned his tip at your entrance before effortlessly sliding down onto him. you moaned as he filled you and he once again thrashed against the ropes wrapped around him. you started to ride him in earnest, aching for your own release at this point. the man beneath you was mumbling incoherently about how good your pussy feels and how badly he wants to come again. chan sauntered over and perched next to hyunjin again, reaching out to pet his head and pepper his face with kisses.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck i'm gonna cum!” you cried as you worked yourself over hyunjin’s dick and used one hand to furiously rub your clit.

“daddy shes squeezing me so hard i don't think i ca- can get out. can i cum inside?” hyunjin pleaded with chan. “of course you can baby, right sweetheart? you want jinnie’s cum inside you don't you?” you just nodded in response. “my girl loves to be creampied you never have to ask. just go ahead baby boy.” chan explained. you drove yourself down onto hyunjin twice more and then you were cumming, mouth dropping open as your inner walls milked him for all he was worth. hyunjin spasmed beneath you as he came and came and came inside you. he wasn't speaking anymore, just making these stunted little sounds as his body shook with the aftershocks of his second orgasm.

chan had begun to untie the ropes as you slowly lifted yourself off of hyunjin. you whispered praise to him as he has hummed, completely fucked out and boneless beneath you.

“shhh it's okay sweetheart. you did so good for us baby. we’re gonna put you to bed now okay?” chan murmured to the man shaking in the bed. hyunjin managed to croak out an “uh-huh” in response. you grabbed a bottle of lotion from nearby and began to work it into the reddened skin all over him where the ropes had been, while chan wiped down hyunjin's groin with a warm cloth. you hummed a tune you knew hyunjin loved and his eyes fluttered shut, a tiny smile making its way to his face.

after everything was put away and the room was right again, chan crawled into the bed to spoon hyunjin’s half asleep form while you crawled in the other side to press yourself to hyunjin's still somewhat heaving chest. you pulled the blanket up high and tucked yourself into his warm skin and he wound an arm around your waist. chan's hand rested on hyunjin's hip, squeezing the flesh there every so often.

being here felt so right, so natural, so easy. loving these two was as easy as breathing. you couldn't believe it had taken this long to get here but now that you had, you weren't letting them go. before your eyes fell closed you heard the sound of chan's lips kissing along hyunjin's shoulder before he whispered “rest now my loves. because i have big plans for you tomorrow.”

THE END

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thel0v3hashira143 · 8 months ago

Text

❝ 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐄𝐒! ❝

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ married life with jjk men ☆ yuuji megumi gojo geto nanami n ino!

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masterlist 💕

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ warnings: fem!reader, reader is a sorcerer, black coded but anyone can read, mentions of sex/pregnancy/kids, mentions of breakups

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ notes: sorry they're kinda short!! i abandoned my ap chem work to do this so pls like it up!😞😞inspired by my personal fantasies lately. sighhh i love my man :3 stay hot!!! 🎀

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 1.1k words, 6.3k characters

yuuji itadori 🌸

BRUHH I LOVE HIM SM HE'S SO HUSBAND MATERIAL

the first out of the bunch to tie the knot

a high school sweetheart kinda vibe like y'all def got married straight out of graduating jujutsu tech

small and intimate wedding, just friends and family in attendance

never shuts up about you when you guys are apart.

"y'know [name]- my wife, me and my wife-, isn't my wife just the coolest?"

megumi and nobara are SICK OF HIM

absolutely REFUSES to go on missions without you cause bby just wants to protect you

when you guys finish missions he always takes you out to eat in tokyo, it's like a lil tradition you guys do 🥲💕

as for dates it's always super spontaneous and he makes sure you never do the same thing twice

but he likes to stay home too!! movie dates at home are his favorite, but he won't tell you since he knows you like going out

HE ALSO PAYS FOR UR STUFF AT THE BEAUTY SUPPLY UGHHH

just follows you around as you fill up the basket and is ready to pay at the register

he's just so happy he's yours.

megumi fushiguro 🌸

not THE last! but one of the last to get married

BUT HE LOVES U SO FREAKING MUCH

it took him a couple years to pop the question, not because he wasn't sure about your relationship, but because he wanted to make sure he was ready before making such a big commitment

no wedding, y'all eloped and went to the courthouse but you had a little ceremony after :3

isn't super vocal about his affections like yuuji, but he does small things

you're his homescreen and his lockscreen is a picture of you two at the courthouse when you guys got married 🩷

he trust your abilities but does secretly fret when you go on missions alone

as for dates he's def a homebody...

he considers any one on one time with you a date...not in a lame way tho!

he just finds the two of you in your home alone to be intimate and comfortable

speaking of home alone...you guys have one kiddo since you guys were a little older when you tied the knot!!

a cute little girl who is y'alls pride and joy. when you told megumi you were pregnant tho he was terrified.

he just didn't want to turn out like his father

but he loves you and your little girl dearly 🩷.

satoru gojo 🌸

THE BLUE EYED PRINCE IS UR HUSBAND??? girl whats ur secret??

anyways, small wedding (he didn't want the elders all up in ur buisness) happy home, and wayyy too many kids

nobody expected you both to have so many kids but you have such a beautiful body!! how could he keep his hands off you?

and besides look at him and tell me he doesn't have a breeding kink...

due to you both being the strongest sorcerers and the kids, your schedules got a bit hectic but he always makes sure you're taken care of

multiple calls day and night, he loves to hear your voice...or moans. (he's hi-key a freak)

RESTURAUNT DATES

we know he loves sweets but you guys always go to nice restaurants, cause he believes you deserves the finest things in life

and he loves his kid so dearly

he's giving me 2 girls, 1 boy energy

from the tea parties, makeovers and late video game nights, he endures it all because of how much he adores them.

he adores you even more tho <3.

suguru geto 🌸

the. perfect. husband.

anything you want? you got it.

hair? done. nails? how much is your set?

definitely had the biggest wedding out of everyone (and the biggest ring)

AND A HUGE HONEYMOON like y'all were gone at least 2 weeks

everyone's fav couple, like nobody ever gets sick of y'all

he absolutely lovesss pda can can't keep his hands to him self. always has a hand on your lower back, arm around your shoulders, and he's just super in tune to you as a whole

wants kids bad, LIKE BAD

and y'all got busy on that honeymoon so you def had one pretty soon after the wedding

when you were pregnant, he spoiled you rotten and he made it his #1 priority to make sure you hadn't a worry in the world

you have 2 beautiful girls and suguru loves them more than life

he tries his best to keep them away from sorcerer life for as long as possible because he knows what it's like to be ostracized because of that life

has no favorites, but if he did it would be you.

kento nanami 🌸

sighhh my old man :)))

last to marry, but the ceremony was beautiful!

intimate but like i said, vv nice

lovesss to spoil you!! and plus we all know he makes hella bank bc he needs someone to spend it on

shopping dates!! mostly consist of him following you around and you just picking out what you like

if you even look at smth he's already at the register

prefers staying at home dates though, like reading together, cooking together, and movie dates!!

minimizes pda in public- perhaps holds your hand maybe

but in private he is so clingyyyy like you have to tear him off you lip to lip, chest to chest, hip to hip, you name it

you practically hung the stars, you could do no wrong in his eyes

is 50/50 on kids???

he's not going to actively ask you to start a family but he also is totally on board if you want to

we all know this man is under a lot of stress so his favorite way to spend time with you is coming home after a long day and cuddling with you 🩷

he's utterly obsessed with you (he's just good at hiding it)

takuma ino 🌸

THIS IS LITERALLY MY HUSBAND GUYS- HEAR ME OUT

high school sweethearts but y'all broke up right before graduation

you guys adored eachother but he was scared of losing you once you guys became sorcerers ಥ_ಥ

but fear not! you guys got back together a year- 2 years later bc he's in love with u

he wanted to propose as soon as you got back together but he has more common sense than that

when he does though it's so cutieee

def private and small, just like the wedding. only your closest friends and family, because he wants everything to be perfect

loves fun dates like laser-tag, go-carts, ect. bc he is just a big little kid

if you do missions together, he is literally that scene from hotel transylvania: "that's my girlfriend!" "your wife, ino..." "my wife? even better!"

i'm not even gonna sugarcoat it y'all get pregnant immediately after

ino is def terrified. you guys are both young and you've barely been married for 3 months

but he pulls it together obv and y'all have a cutie little son <3

just like yuuji, he gushes about his little family to nanami constantly (kento acts like he hates it but he finds it endearing)

he reads to your son for bedtime every night WITHOUT FAIL

he always thinks about how he wouldn't have things any other way.

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ i wrote this in like 2 hours and i have a chem quiz tommorow i hope u guys like it 😿😿(pls love me) BUT I GET TO SEE MY MAN TOMMORROW AHHHH. sorry i'm not gonna shut up about himmm. ok bye stay hot ily guys sm!!!!

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲 ♡

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𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚!

𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙡0𝙫3𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖143 2024

#Words of the Love Hashira 💗#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuuji x reader #megumi x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #ino x reader #x black fem reader #black writers on tumblr

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ericscroptop · 3 months ago

Text

You Got All Of My Attention

✧ pairing: bf! eric x gf! reader

✦ genre: fluffy smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, dry/wet humping, self-conscious reader about weight for a small portion of this fic but this fic isn’t centered around that and weight is not specified, cursing, teasing, kissing, so much grinding, oral— female receiving towards the end, handjob towards the end, marking, dirty talk, praising/praise kink, pet names, fluff, small aftercare

✦ word count: 6.9k words

✧ synopsis: touching each other sweetly and hotly is one of your favorite forms of communication.

✦ note: let’s all take a moment to appreciate pink eric bc i love pink eric sm— live laugh love pink ‘ric

also— *insert that one tweet where someone said they hope dry humping becomes the next pandemic*

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“What should I put on?” Eric voices to you from the living room with the TV remote within his grasp, eyes scanning through the various movies and shows on you guys’ favorite streaming service.

“Put on our comfort movie!” you answer from the kitchen, putting away leftovers from tonight’s dinner.

He knows exactly what you mean, and so his fingers press on the respective buttons of the control, navigating to find said comfort movie to play.

Once it’s successfully playing, he parks his rear on the couch. He folds his arms back, elbows up and hands behind his head. His thighs instinctively spread out as he leans his head back on the sofa pillows, eyes fluttering closed due to the comfort of the cushions and full-belly from dinner that has left him satisfied.

Meanwhile, you quickly finish cleaning up and strut gleefully towards the couch. You meet with your boyfriend, his eyes still shut, looking so laid-back and madly handsome in his loungewear— light grey joggers and a black fitted tank top.

You don’t hesitate in taking a seat right next to him, plopping yourself over the cushion and bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them.

The couch dipping causes his left eye to open while his eyebrow on the same side raises, corners of his lips tugging upwards now that you’ve joined him.

“Tired?” you question.

“A little, but I still wanna hangout with you for a bit before bed.” his voice comes out in a slight lower pitch.

You hummed in response. His eyes fully absorb your curled-up figure. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, and it’s big enough to swallow a decent portion of your body. When standing up, it covers your bottom. But in this current position you’re in, your (his) shirt has bunched up enough to give him a glimpse of your seamless cheeky boy shorts.

It was common for you to roam around the house like that. Short-shorts or panties with an oversized t-shirt.

Still, his heart— and even his dick— swelled with various intense feelings. Love tied with lust mainly. As much as he appreciated the effort you would put into dolling yourself up and enhancing your features from time to time, he appreciated just as much when you wore casual clothing.

Especially when it was his clothing. God, how could you look so cute and simultaneously sexy while wearing his t-shirt?

There was a sense of pride that raised his ego when you would dress in his clothing. You wearing his shirt may not seem like anything special to some. But to him, it was a subtle form of intimacy.

You were comfortable with being engulfed in his clothes, and he always insisted on sharing his clothes without hesitation. To the point where you would find yourself in his closet picking through his wardrobe, and even having favorites that you both knew all too well.

Endearment resides inside his heart seeing you so carefree in his shirt, all relaxed, cute, and comfy. There’s something about that loose t-shirt of his that has been imbued plenty of times with his deodorant, cologne, body wash, sweat, laundry detergent, etc., and you wearing it, choosing to be protected by his scent.

Each of your scents would mix together, and it just tied your bond closer. As well as how you felt so safe around him to walk around in your underwear or lazy attire. It was so vulnerable since you always dressed up otherwise— or felt self-conscious occasionally in public.

But with Eric, he was that special person that got to see all forms and sides of you. He was the lucky guy that you trusted beyond words, who you loved enough to be home-free snuggled up in his shirt.

It was beyond adorable seeing you snug like a bug in a rug like this. Though, he can’t help himself in getting the hots for you in his clothes, too.

His shirt over your body was a mark of territory. It was not only a gesture that embodied values of love and connection, but it was also very possessive in a way. It’s like you’re wrapping yourself in his love, and something that has also caressed his skin, now caresses yours.

It doesn’t help that you chose to pair his shirt with solely panties. And, you’re braless underneath.

Your current attire leaves room for his imagination to roam freely, thinking about your bare body underneath, and how you’re his sweet girl, looking so dainty in his shirt swallowing you.

Fuck. The dinner you two had left him stuffed, but you’re currently working up his appetite again. He has the urge to bite your cheeks and squeeze your body out of fondness, as well as kiss you until you’re breathless and feel you up shamelessly until you’re squirming and surrender to his touches.

Your eyes are currently trained on the screen, embracing your legs tightly while focused on one of your favorite scenes you’ve watched over a dozen times.

This makes him frown unconsciously, wondering why you didn’t immediately jump your bones on him as soon as you sat down on the couch. Your attention is caught elsewhere. I mean, you did want to watch a movie together. But you could at least be cuddled up in his arms. Why hug yourself when he’s right here?

You say something aloud to your boyfriend, but Eric doesn’t catch it, too busy sulking mentally at the fact that your body wasn’t close enough to be touching his own.

His lack of response makes your facial features shift into a concerned expression, looking over at him in question.

It is then that you see him appear a bit petulant. He doesn’t realize he’s pouting, brows slightly creased as he’s lost in his pettish, whiny thoughts.

Although his lip protrudes naturally, his lips are pushed forward more emphasized than usual. It makes him look rather cute, honestly. You have to push back your instinct to coo at him to instead, question what is the reason for that frowny look on his face.

“Eric? What’s wrong?” you query, perplexed by his down-looking appearance.

The ring of you saying his name hitting his ears gets him to perk up, features softening once he makes eye contact with you.

His heart is practically melting, and he can’t wait any longer to openly display his affection for you. He’s gonna take matters into his own hands.

“C’mere.” he motions with both his hands to come closer to him.

Your eyebrows raise in curiosity as you inch closer until your shoulders are basically touching, making that pout on his lips reappear once you stop since you deem that as close enough— but not in Eric’s mind.

He takes it upon himself to hoist you onto his lap, leaving you to panic at the sudden act.

“What— Eric! That tickles! What are you—”

“There we go.” he interrupts your frantic spouts of words. He spreads his legs enough to get you comfortable, adjusting your body to straddle him and holds you by the hips.

Heat blossoms in your cheeks and your body stiffens from being caught off guard, now seated right over your boyfriend.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck to keep yourself secure, and you felt a bit tensed-up.

Even though Eric loved getting handsy with you because you were too lovely to ignore, and you two have been dating for awhile now that you should be used to his impulsive urges of getting you onto his lap— for instance, it would get you all bashful.

Right now, you were conscious of your weight over his lap, hoping you didn’t make him feel uncomfortable in bearing your body in this sitting position. You also were mindful of any movement you could make, knowing you could accidentally hurt him or it be sensitive.

But he just smiled at you with a beautiful twinkle present in his eyes, pleased to be this intimate with you. Him wanting and guiding you on his lap is his display of physical affection and emotional connection towards you.

“Such a pretty baby over my lap, hm.” he speaks sweetly to you, which is second nature for him. He tucks a strand of loose hair that got in the way of your face, behind your ear to soak in your facial features with clarity while he cooed at you.

“Eric.” you whined and drew out his name with a shy chuckle. His eyes continued to scan all over your features, absorbing them admiringly, leaving you sheepish from the spotlight on you.

His staring initiates you to look away on impulse, but his movements are faster. Before you know it, his dominant hand grabs hold of your jaw gently, prompting your eyes and lips to widen slightly.

“Let me appreciate my girl, yeah?” he utters, beginning to thumb your cheek affectionately to ease you up.

His words continue to leave you flustered. Your tummy feels like butterflies are fluttering around wildly, and a spark of heat bursts all over your body.

A soft smile adorned his features, thumb still stroking your cheek. All that was in his mind was how you’re the prettiest girl in the world. Solely focused on how you’re dangerously close in proximity to him, engulfed in his scent.

Eric was such a flirt, always direct in showing you how he wants you. And although he liked toying with you for amusement, his actions were also because you were too seductive and irresistible to ignore.

He loved your cute reactions when he complimented you or touched you. He knows you also feel strongly for him, but you were just too shy sometimes to initiate touches, accept compliments, or even with simply maintaining eye contact.

“I like having you close like this.” he announces before chasing one of your cheeks with his lips, making your face scrunch up cutely from the incoming kiss as he dots his lips just over the apple of it.

You’re overwhelmed with various emotions that leave you feeling like mush from his lovey-dovey behavior. When he pulls back, his hands rub your sides soothingly through the fabric of your shirt, making you remember how your weight sat right over him.

“Are you comfy like this? I don’t wanna sit here for too long if—”

He cuts you off with a tsk, in disbelief that you’re even asking him that when he’s the one who pulled you over him.

“Always feels good when you’re in my arms. You rarely sit over me like this. Never wanna let you go.” he speaks lowly, reassuring that you’re fine just where you’re at by wrapping his hands fully around you. He engulfs you into a hug, his chin pressing against your shoulder, making your cheeks squish together.

One of his hands inches lower to your rear, cupping the area protectively, out of fondness.

Your beautiful form and scents right in front of him was such a rush and provided solace to his senses.

You felt the same way. This warm cuddle session was so heartening that your boyfriend cared about you. This moment of togetherness was peaceful, bringing you feelings of tranquility.

It felt good to be loved explicitly. Being indulged constantly with both physical and verbal reminders that Eric cherishes you.

You decide to reciprocate that reassuring physical affection by plopping your lips over his temple, allowing your lips to linger a bit atop his skin while strands of his hair tickled your nose.

The aroma of his hair care products hits your nostrils, making you hum, comforted by his signature scents.

You pull back soon to check out your boyfriend’s face. His face is sitting pretty with a grinning gaze written over him.

Taking advantage of this proximity, you inspect his features worshipfully.

His gleaming eyes blink at you curiously, eyeing the way your own pupils scan over him.

During your gawking, your mind and eyes appreciate all the handsome features of your lover: The small mole on his left waterline. His high nose bridge. The crescent-shaped scar next to the corner of his mouth on his right side. His full bottom lip. All of his details were exquisitely crafted, leaving a face that should have a portrait in The Louvre.

As beautiful of a person he is on the inside, his outside is equally as beautiful.

There’s silence for a minute or so as he allows you to stare at him. He wanted to bask in this moment of you eyeing him up close for a bit, since it was rare that you’d allow yourself to stare openly like this without growing shy quickly.

His mouth stretches into a sly smile, finding you so charming in this moment. It’s also gratifying watching the way you look at him. Almost like you’re in awe of him, so fixated on him.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” he cocks his head slightly back, still smiling.

You know he secretly finds this amusing, making you let out a small giggle, eyes shying away for a second before returning to him. Your left hand sinks its way into his scalp, threading through his pink strands with your fingers.

“You’re just so pretty. Really handsome, ‘ric.” you voice, face vibrant as you continue eyeing him.

Your words make Eric chuckle. He rubs your body tenderly, enjoying this moment of you candidly admitting aloud to him how attractive he is.

Of course, he already knows how you feel about him. But hearing it aloud makes him feel validated— especially when you specifically called him pretty.

Pretty is traditionally associated with femininity and daintiness, and so as a man, it wasn’t common to be complimented with that word.

But he loves it. It’s so flattering, plus soft and sweet. He wallows in you giving him the highest form of compliments. Hearing his girl praise him with honeyed words left his face glowing, cheeks beginning to blush slightly. You make him feel more beautiful and better about himself.

An endeared little grin stumbles over his features. He has to hold himself back from wanting to bite your delicate cheeks out of his own cute aggression towards you. So instead, he settles for a little teasing.

“Am I now?”

He decides to squeeze one of your sides, resulting in you doing your best in not squirming due to the tingly stir your core and skin feel from his playful touch.

A small noise leaves your throat, a mix between a giggle and whimper. It’s quick though, and you let out a scoff right after, shaking your head a bit.

“As if you don’t know.” you muttered.

“Tch,” he makes that sound in turn and licks his lips, “I love it when it comes from you, though.”

“It’s so sweet to hear that my baby finds me pretty.” he purrs. You don’t miss seeing his pupils lower to leer over your lips.

Your arms clutched more tightly around his neck, afraid you would turn into jelly and tumble over as a result of his flirtatious behavior.

It’s all getting to you: Your arms around his neck, clinging onto him. The conversations shared with your breath so closed to one another. Your body seated over his, lips and faces millimeters apart. Him referring to you as ‘his baby.’ The mere sound of his voice.

Eric is practically tempting and inviting you to love up on him. You want to communicate your intense romantic feelings for him without words. Your vision darts to his mouth, then up to meet his gaze. Desire coats your orbs, and Eric takes notice of it, as it’s mirroring his own.

“Gimmie kiss.” he pleads with that velvety voice of his.

Before you know it, your lips end up meeting with a soft, gentle caress.

Your lips brush together in a slow, tender rhythm. Each other’s noses graze past jointly, engrossed in chasing the familiar taste of one another.

Suddenly you’re hooked and spaced off Eric’s mouth moving in sync with your own. Your fingers card through his hair while his own hands still reside over your hips, smoothing over your clothed torso.

Bliss washes all over you. The loving touches and brushing of lips are extremely addicting, keeping you both to continue with your movements, kisses deepening.

Just a couple tastes of his lips has you aching for more. Listening to each other’s breathing and feeling your bodies pressed tightly together is like fuel to the fire growing inside of you.

Even more so when suddenly you feel something growing and growing underneath you— that something being your boyfriend’s cock.

You withdraw your lips from his with a smacking sound and a slight moan. This prompts Eric to open his eyes, looking worked-up from the hot embrace you’ve shared.

He hunts for your lips for more, but you don’t give him a chance to kiss you again. Instead, you attend to his jawline with your mouth, running fleeting kisses along the sharp profile.

That makes him stunned, swallowing hard with his eyes shutting once again, allowing you to move your lips affectionately over his skin.

Your hormones are getting to you. You had the instinct to drag your lips over his sensitive spots, letting him be praised for his existence with your mouth.

Your kisses pepper down along his neck, causing Eric to writhe underneath you and softly groan. Especially when you hit that sweet spot of his.

You can’t restrain from smiling when he angles his neck to give you better access, and feel him start to grip at your shirt.

Kissing his neck has him raging inside. He’s going feral for you with the way you’re seated over him, kissing one of the most sensitive parts of his body.

He can’t handle being sensually loved like this for too long without him wanting to reciprocate that same energy at a greater volume.

“Baby…” he groans, making you hum against his skin, pussy pulsing at the sound of his gravelly voice.

“Look at me.” he adds when you don’t stop.

That gets your attention, so you retreat from his neck.

You flip your hair back and your heart is pumping rapidly in anticipation once you meet his eyes. They look loaded with lust, and it’s definitely a fact when he leans suddenly into your neck, mouth latching onto your skin in an instant.

A gasp leaps from you when you feel your skin pulled slightly into his lips, trapping the area.

He starts sucking intensely, and then releases every now and then to scatter kisses all over.

He’s dominating you now. His mouth travels all across your neck, even grazing his teeth over one of your earlobes and tonguing at the flesh.

Your senses are heightened, majorly aroused from being attended to.

Lost in the feeling, your hands travel to his back, finding themselves creep underneath his black tank, nails pressing into his skin due to how hooked he’s got you.

One of his hands cradles the nape of your neck, keeping you firm to his liking. When his mouth lands on the front of your throat, the slight pressure he gives your skin with his teeth gets you all tingly all the way down south. It’s impulsive for you to shift and jerk your hips down into him while he abuses your neck eagerly.

Your reactions make Eric release a breathy laugh. He always gets a kick out of worshipping his girl. Delicate moans leave your mouth. Dirty, but delicate. Hearing your noises is such a treat, sweet to his senses.

His hard cock getting butted by your cute bum cheeks is tantalizing the fuck out of him. It’s getting too hot to handle, but he wants more of it.

And it also seems like you’re seeking for more.

“Wanna hump me? Is that what you want?” he rasps out, continuing to work deliberately in painting love bites on you.

When the smutty question hits your ears, you whimper from a combination of neediness and meekness. You’re sure a pink tint colors your cheeks.

His lips remove from your neck due to your lack of words, eyes immediately searching for yours.

You start gnawing on your lower lip, trying to hold back on any more whiny noises while he kneads your thighs and hips, only teasing you more.

“Tell me what you want and i’ll give it to you, princess. Whatever you want, I want it, too.” His eyes are soft, but still radiate a provocative, thirsty look.

“I want this… wanna rub against you, just like this.” you vocalized and blinked shyly. It’s undeniable that you’ve been possessed by the horny gods. And so, you painfully needed stimulation towards your cunt— with the help of your beautiful boyfriend who is the reason why you’ve gone horny.

He gives you a broad smile, proud and pleased to hear you verbalize what you want— even if he had to encourage you to do so.

One activity that is one of your absolute favorites is dry humping. It does great service for you as it’s effective stimulation. Rubbing over and over that golden area of your sex felt euphoric and gratifying. Especially if you were rubbing yourself over your boyfriend’s body parts, expressing how turned on he got you.

The build up, tension, setting the mood, and losing yourself in the craving for more was extremely addictive sexual gratification.

For Eric personally, watching you make yourself feel good and full of eagerness to satisfy your needs is a high better than any drug out there.

Although sometimes it leaves him sore for a bit, he’d do anything to hear and see you sexually worked up. It also was like heaven for him, feeling his pretty girl wildly fuck herself over his crotch, allowing each of your bottoms to become marinated in lubrication and precum. It’s so dirty but hot.

His hands travel underneath your shirt, fingers roaming over your bare sides and middle. That causes you to suck in a breath, feeling ticklish to the direct skin contact for a second before you’re inflamed to squeeze your cunt against his bulge.

“Raise ‘em up for me, baby.” he instructs.

And you know the drill, raising your arms gleefully and allowing him to uncover your torso.

He readily removes and tosses your shirt to the ground. Your breasts sit bare now, staring directly at Eric.

His mouth is practically watering at the sight. He loves when you put on his clothes, but he also loves when you take it off to unveil your precious body. Bonus points if he’s the one taking it off you, just like right now.

“So beautiful.” he murmurs, so mesmerized.

Your pussy flutters from the flattery. You’re even more heated sexually and from your cheeks now that your upper body is naked.

Eric attempts to put his hand on one of your mounds, but you stop him with your own before he even has the chance, much to his dismay.

A confused expression is present on his face until you position his arms upwards, indicating that you wanted him to remove his top as well before you two got into it.

“Your turn.” you say cheekily, your boyfriend smirking in exchange and permits you to remove his shirt for him.

And so it’s off swiftly, upper body bare with a glimpse of his Calvin briefs, waistband visible.

“How the fuck are you so hot, Eric?” you practically moan out shamelessly, letting your hands explore his biceps and eyes to wander fervidly around his abdomen. His muscles flex as your hands and eyes roam over him, face smug.

“So vocal with praising me today.” Such a sweet girl.” his hands rub your thigh and the small of your back gingerly, tickled pink from your verbal and physical reactions to him.

He makes every inch of you tingle. You knead at his biceps intimately, touching him to show your cosmic appreciation and attraction for him.

Now that you’re both topless, he reaches towards your chest, not being stopped this time. You allow him to grab hold of your tits. His hands fondle and slightly bounce your breasts within his grapple.

“Love holding my girls.” he breathes out, relishing in how they hung and sat in his palms.

You continue to grip onto his arms as he touches your sensitive breasts, pussy pulsing from pleasure and desire.

You rut your clothed sex down into his crotch, sex aching for stimulation.

The delicious weight of you on top of his throbbing cock has him sighing wistfully. He needs more of you, and so, he encircles one of your nipples with his mouth, suckling gently, which makes you shakily breathe out and arch up into him.

You reposition your arms to wrap around his neck, keeping him close and steady.

His mouth persists in showing his full admiration to the beauty you possess with his lips and tongue, making shapes and sucking with intent.

He has you rocking your hips and dragging your core uncontrollably. You’re becoming cross-faded from his vigorous attention to your tits and off the nice feeling of his boner pressing against you.

You tug at his hair, displaying how strung-out he’s got you. It makes him growl while he’s busy stuffing his mouth with your chest.

He takes you pulling his hair as an invitation to advance back to your lips.

He rises from your breasts, searching for your mouth and locks his lips with your own fiercely.

The way he kisses you is ardent, and you don’t miss a beat in kissing him back with the same urgency.

“Mmmphh…” you whimpered as he slips his tongue in and brushes it against your own. You take every move he gives you well, reciprocating that same energy.

Your hand made a fist into his hair, fingers clutching hard and stimulating his scalp, too caught up in the way his lips stroked and engulfed yours.

He responds to your thrilling grasp with a slight-little tug on your bottom lip. You persist with your grinding as you two share wild and unrestrained kisses. The pain-mixed-pleasure from his nibbles and hard cock prodding your aching pussy has you in utter ecstasy.

Eric is equally as overwhelmed in excitement. He starts to push his hips up to meet your movements, then is greeted by your lips parting from his own, hushed gasps releasing from you as a result.

The reaction from you gets him to smirk, seeing you all stupefied just from his clothed cock knocking into your clothed pussy.

After a couple gasps, you attempt to revert back to his lips again but he dodges you, too amused in seeing how worked up you’ve become.

You try to kiss him again and he only allows each of your lips to faintly graze together before ripping himself away.

“Stop teasing me.” you whined breathlessly, still trying to plant your lips over his but he continues to give you nothing. He only allows your features to sweep lightly.

He grins mischievously, too struck on the pouted look on your face. It’s adorable seeing you get so riled up. He couldn’t help it. You were so fun to play with.

Though, it’s funny until your ruts into his manhood grow stronger. Your frustration has you increasing the downward thrust of your pelvis, making Eric groan and shut his eyes instantaneously.

You whimper pathetically while you grind and bounce into him. Eric bites his lip and his hands start to grip at your hips, swamped in how the friction applied is too divine for his cock.

While straddling him, you’re free to control the speed and intensity of your motions. You’ve got this animalistic desire to satisfy your moist, hot pussy and get you and your boyfriend off.

Something about fucking into him with clothed bottoms, no penetration, and greedy humps is beyond intimate, filthy, and desperate. It fueled you with passion, love, and lust for him.

Pants and moans exchange galore, and you’re still grinding down enthusiastically, all frenzied trying to reach climax. Though, Eric doesn’t want you going too hard in this position. Usually he’s the one being dominant, and he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself like this even if it feels good.

“Fuck, babe… Easy girl., easy.” he breathes, getting you to slow down and halt your movements.

With heavy breaths and mewls, you do stop and he finally gives you the kisses he withheld from you as a reward. You happily kiss him, clutching onto him like you never want to let go.

“Lie on your back for me, princess. I’ll make you cum, don’t worry.” he mumbles over your lips, sending sparks to your cunt.

And so you do as told, sadly separating from his lap but ready for whatever new pleasure he was about to give you. You lie back on the couch, looking at him from a new angle.

Eric then starts to tug off his joggers, now leaving you both in just your underwear.

Your eyes are heavy lidded, and your hands and legs roam promiscuously, waiting for his next move within the couple seconds he takes.

Your breath is stuck in your throat when he leans down over your body, now caged by him.

Your heart’s simultaneously beating rapidly and swimming in passion when he leans his lips towards your nose, pressing his lips against the tip of it.

His cutesy gesture is soothing and has you smiling fondly. It distracts you from this spicy position you’re in for only a tiny moment. In a flash, his manhood and hips push into you, making you moan loudly at the feeling.

Eric moans alongside you. With his pants off, you can feel his manhood better. The thinner the barrier, the stronger the sensation.

He quickly falls into a rhythm while humping into you. Eric has always had better stamina and energy than you. Straddling him and having you uber close in his lap is utterly perfect, but desperately bucking into you missionary style is also amazing.

Getting to control the pace and seeing you underneath him and vice versa felt so primal. He can’t abstain from diving into your neck to start marking you up some more. Fine bites and kisses are scattered across the skin he’s able to reach, still rocking himself into you.

It’s all so dizzying. It’s hard to think coherently when surrendering to his lusty affection. Your body feels inexplicably good like this. All you can do is weakly pant and mewl, inherently arching your back.

His hips rock and slide against yours in gushing lust. Rutting into you in this angle has his manhood roaring with ferocity. His movements provide pleasurable pressure against your clit and better direct sensations across your entire sex.

The strokes of his clothed shaft and head against your panty-covered pussy is delectable. A wet patch formed on Eric’s briefs where he strained against the material, and your panties were also past damp. Your soaked underwear mingled with his own, providing such a beautiful sensation.

Watching your boyfriend rub into you and listening to his ragged breaths is driving you crazy. Not to mention the obvious clit-centric pleasure you’re receiving.

The more he humps into you and drops kisses over your face, lips, and tits, the more tense you become.

You feel your muscles starting to contract involuntarily. You’re flushed all over and there’s a concentrated sensation in your groin.

“Eric…” you breathlessly warn, knowing you’re on the verge of cumming in your panties.

And he too knows immediately and gets the hint. He wants you to release freely and not ruin your underwear with your fluids more than already is.

So he inches down and you raise your hips, allowing him to pull down and off your saturated bottoms.

You jolt as he unexpectedly dives his face into your pussy without warning. I mean— you should’ve known he would start eating you out to finish you off. Your man was a munch.

He messily kisses your wet cunt. His hands keep your legs spread open while he starts lapping and sweeping his tongue into every inch of your pussy possible.

“Oh fuck, Eric!” you cry a high pitched moan, face contorted from his wet muscle gladly screwing your cunt.

He grunts raveningly as he slurps at your folds and wetness, not hiding from making noise to show you how prized your pussy is to him.

It’s all toe curling, and your eyes are practically watering from how good he’s making you feel.

It hits you hard when his tongue lands on your clit, licking your swollen nub and eventually sucking on it.

“Oh my god, Eric! Eric!” you cry out again, hands finding themselves in his hair and holding on for dear life. His hold on your legs tightens while he keeps toying with your nub, ready for you to cum on his face any second now.

You spout various sounds as your core snaps and it’s pulsing, clear fluid finally flowing out.

He’s still tending to your clit when you burst, his chin and mouth glistening wet with your secretions. Your legs are basically numb, body trembling and muscles still contracting.

“That’s it, baby! That’s my girl.” he heaves out a praise, pulling away from your sensitive clit to sweetly kiss one of your thighs for being so wonderful.

Within seconds though, his mouth is back on your sex, lathering his tongue with your juices.

He avariciously drinks up his honey, cleaning you up real good. Meanwhile, you’re whimpering weakly, lightheaded post-orgasm. You let him lick your fluids, eventually whining repeatedly when it becomes too much and you realize how sensitive you’ve become to where it’s torturous for him to keep messing with your cunt.

Your whines wake him up from his pussy daze and he backs off. At then he is aware again of how awfully hard his throbbing cock is, begging for relief under his briefs.

You each are trying to catch your breaths. You’re lying limp while Eric can’t seem to ignore his bulging veins and the heaviness between his legs.

“Can you help me cum, princess?” he voices desperately with pleading eyes.

You’ve grown weary now that you’ve been satisfied but you can’t ignore your poor, sweet boyfriend, who has yet to cum himself. He needed some help, and you were going to give it to him.

You pull your right arm up, gesturing that you needed help to sit up. You weakly smile as he carefully pulls you up, groaning quietly as a result of your sore and swollen bare pussy.

A hand of yours creeps over one of his thighs, patting him compassionately while he begins to caress the small of your back.

You make him suck in a breath and then grunt when you redirect your hand to start massaging his stained, damp crotch.

“I bet it hurts, doesn’t it?” you pouted teasingly, enjoying the way he’s trying to control himself under your touch.

“Let me fuck your hand— please.” he airily moans, beginning to jerk into your palm.

Always impatient, you think to yourself. You can’t blame him though. Teasing and waiting for stimulation was always excruciating. He deserved what he wanted after helping you cum like the good boyfriend he is.

Your fingers move to tug at his underwear, and he promptly adjusts his position to remove them fully. His cock immediately slaps up against his abdomen, making him sigh out from his manhood finally being free.

The sight of his rosy cock has your pussy tingling for the nth time today. You can’t even get a word out before he reaches for your dominant hand and guides it to his cock.

You both gasp in chorus when your hand wrapped around his grips at his manhood. His hand doesn’t detach. Instead, he guides your hand slowly up and down his shaft.

Your lips part as you feel the warmth of his cock radiating from all the blood rushing within it. A breathy laugh comes out of Eric, causing you to dart your gaze up to look at him. The tip of his tongue sticks out from the corner of his mouth, luxuriating in the sensation of your soft, slightly smaller hand jacking him off.

Despite you knowing how to give him a hand job well on your own, he still keeps his hand over yours. Something about holding and guiding your hand while you touched his private parts was such a turn-on. It was indeed intimate, and only connected you two more. He refused to let go of you.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, babe.” he rasps.

Hearing his low voice, seeing him all weak and vulnerable, and touching his cock has you squeezing your cunt. Aiding him in masturbating is so yummy. He was fully naked in front of you with his pink hair, pink cheeks, and pink cock. God bless Eric and his beautiful form. You are beyond lucky to be here with him, and the only person that gets to do this to him.

“So hot and pretty for me.” you worshiped, squeezing his cock just a bit more, which gets him to moan loudly, harmonic to your ears. You love that he is always so vocal.

Your strokes are gentle and hard throughout. Both of you have your mouths dumbly ajar, moaning while your fists moved up and down together.

It doesn’t take long for the pace to build up, jerking him relentlessly. He’s panting nonstop, and you decide to add more stimulation onto him by using your free hand to grab his balls.

That’s the ticket for him. He hisses and calls out your name brokenly. You cup them, rubbing them and gently massaging his weighty sac. Your other hand continues to jerk him with his hand still steering yours. Getting his cock rubbed by his girl fully naked is sending him straight to heaven; he can’t seem to calm down.

“Cum for me, Eric. Wanna make my pretty boy cum. Need it.” you egg him on with your sweet voice begging. You even start to thumb at the looser skin of his sac between the balls, playfully tugging at it.

He throws his head back and moans harshly at that, followed by whiny whimpers. “Fucking hell, Y/n!” he pants.

You continue to encourage and coo at him to let it all out. When he finally can’t take it anymore and he’s ready to blow, he removes your hand from his shaft rather madly, and then he starts jacking off by himself to begin pumping out his seed.

Since he was face-deep in your pussy when you came, you believe you should return the favor by allowing him to cum all over your face, too. Plus, you knew he loathed when his orgasms didn’t involve cumming on or in you.

You stick your tongue out gladly, your eyes seductive and inviting him to make a mess out of you.

He looks at you and you’re the definition of a real-life fantasy. He can’t believe that you’re real, presenting yourself like this behind closed doors.

The tightening, tickling, and tingling sensation that rises from his balls and through his cock, finally catches up to him. He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he rolls his eyes back, releasing and squeezing his cock head to shoot several ropes of hot cum all over your face.

A gasp jumps out of you when you at last feel his seed land on you, eyes shutting instantly. Your tongue stays out, graciously humming and accepting whatever you can catch, swallowing it proudly.

Some of his viscous substance lands on your cheeks, forehead, and even your hair. Your heart’s racing at the feeling of being splattered with cum, eyes squinting open to catch a glimpse of his post-orgasm expression.

He grunts until he gets every drop out, sighing out when he’s reached empty. As he recovers, he’s breathing heavily, eyeing your gorgeous face he made a mess out of while he regains his composure.

His fingers then come forward to collect the cum that missed your tongue to redirect it all in your mouth. You allow him to feed you his essence, sucking and licking his fingers eagerly, puppy-eyed while you stare at him, making him bite his lip with a smirk.

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby. Fucking hell.” he manages to speak after his powerful release, removing his fingers and pulling you into his lap once again for a kiss.

Your naked bodies press and rest together while you kiss one another warmly. The lovely, mellow kisses leave you each relaxed, comforting one another after smutty doings.

Once you two separate lips, he kisses all over your face a couple times, making you happy to be loved like this.

Your hands smooth over his chest, noticing it blushing red after cumming.

“You okay?” Eric asks gently, snuggling you in his arms.

You nod at his chest. “I should be asking you that. You were having the time of your life, huh?” you snickered.

“Says the one who started humping the fuck out of me. Such a horny girl.” he pinched at one of your sides playfully, getting you to yelp and squirm from the ticklish feeling.

You grasped his wrist so he can instead hold your hand. Your hands clasped together, giving his own a gentle squeeze.

“Learned it from the master himself.” you mumble, getting Eric to chuckle.

“Man, we’re both nasty.” he whistles, caressing your spine with his free hand.

You laugh and leave a kiss on his chest, then squeeze yourself into him, taking advantage of the current proximity, allowing him to hold you tight.

“Wouldn’t wanna get nasty with anyone else.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#ericscroptop #eric sohn #the boyz #the boyz imagines #tbz eric #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn imagines #eric sohn smut #eric smut #eric the boyz #sohn youngjae #ericblurbs #tbz x reader #tbz smut #tbz smau #tbz fluff #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop

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gyuswhore · 7 months ago

Text

Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »»

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons.

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased.

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness.

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart.

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it.

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first.

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear.

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer.

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!”

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him.

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants.

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day.

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides.

Please be okay.

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors.

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure.

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised.

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you.

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water.

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand.

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking.

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds.

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.”

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had.

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space.

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed.

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall.

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him.

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it.

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards.

So much for leaving quietly.

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity.

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready.

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself.

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard.

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing.

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first.

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water.

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to.

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now.

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered.

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew.

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck.

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle.

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship.

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck.

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below.

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes.

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible.

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows.

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope.

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination.

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere.

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck.

What he sees puts his heart in his throat.

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them.

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream.

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened.

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out.

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up.

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck.

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk.

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife.

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad.

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight.

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was.

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading.

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice.

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons.

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror.

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment.

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand.

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck.

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck.

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray.

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings.

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless.

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time.

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side.

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand.

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there.

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget.

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence.

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.”

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says.

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live.

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger.

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King.

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation.

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign.

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod.

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below.

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work.

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames.

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water.

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t.

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own?

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father.

He could find his freedom elsewhere.

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness.

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing.

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to.

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it.

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place.

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood.

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits.

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water.

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water.

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat.

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck.

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you.

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in.

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash.

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own.

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him.

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it.

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you.

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea.

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you.

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more.

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal.

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could.

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms.

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards.

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has.

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything.

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far.

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface.

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious.

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them.

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck.

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing.

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose.

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue.

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!”

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half.

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off.

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you.

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything.

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly.

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body.

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out.

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily.

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship.

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it.

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain.

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies.

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence.

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision.

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious.

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element.

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors.

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen.

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died.

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights.

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say.

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan.

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.”

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place.

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks.

“Everything,” you sigh.

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles.

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for.

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal.

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead.

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum.

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question.

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen.

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid.

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last.

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another.

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless.

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet.

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time.

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity.

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand.

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment.

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck.

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss.

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now.

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has.

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table.

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring.

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after.

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless.

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.”

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies.

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men.

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun.

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same.

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back.

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit.

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart.

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted.

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company.

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents.

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms.

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed.

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him.

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life.

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner.

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night.

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion.

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented.

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone.

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile.

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?”

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment.

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?”

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours.

But you don’t.

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him.

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably.

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you.

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly.

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him.

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer.

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth.

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again.

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more.

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath.

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back.

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face.

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight.

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely.

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign.

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own.

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask.

“Has the Captain approached?”

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.”

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body.

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep.

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss.

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out.

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock.

“Your guards mortify me.”

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway.

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it.

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle.

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving.

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him.

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed.

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute.

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much.

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether.

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing.

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed.

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable.

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound.

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound.

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist.

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air.

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up.

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh.

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard.

“Soonyoung!”

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced.

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs.

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach.

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?”

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question.

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah.

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him.

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know.

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive.

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten.

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?”

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his.

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly.

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white.

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers.

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused.

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were.

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue.

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit.

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder.

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt.

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further.

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system.

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree.

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible.

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were.

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath.

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you.

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him.

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence.

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks.

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling.

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth.

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you.

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before.

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up.

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?”

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear.

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions.

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth.

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?”

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.”

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.”

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you.

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you.

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest.

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again.

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before.

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely.

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud.

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own.

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open.

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely.

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay.

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake.

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern.

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you.

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched.

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed.

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure.

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast.

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again.

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further.

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop.

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you.

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made.

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs.

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face.

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could.

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth.

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest.

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping.

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face.

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek.

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine.

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark.

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart.

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens.

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this.

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same.

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.”

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name.

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly.

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.”

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes.

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers.

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers.

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone.

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly.

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens.

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow.

You could get used to this. And you will.

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace.

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses.

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer.

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks.

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship.

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow.

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take.

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago.

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern.

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom.

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?”

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you.

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.”

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s.

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands.

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port.

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at.

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace.

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light.

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder.

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back.

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon.

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend.

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings.

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you.

Always.

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

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