#because even if you rounded it so that a three would follow the two you’re still left with ‘230’ rather than ‘233’ at that one part

[diltonsstrangescience]

DANG. Absolutely cold-blooded.

[sevikasfemme]

my hands are shaking from holding back from you —

— baby's first fic 🥺👉👈 !! i'm a poet and this is my first time writing a full fic for a character so of course it's about our wife, Sevika ❤️

💋you and sevika broke up a month ago; you taunt her to the point of lightly embarrassing you on a phone call with makeup sex 🤭

💋title is just direct lyrics of Dress by Taylor Swift ; fic has loose inspo/association— middle photo tile is a crop from a piece i commissioned by danacrowart❤️

content tags: lesbian sex, reader has a vagina, femme!reader, bottom!reader, top!sevika, jealousy, possessiveness, dom/sub undertones, strap-on use, impact play, implied/referenced drug use, breakup/makeup, some fluff, semi-public sex

word count: 4.6k | read on ao3 | bluesky

You and Sevika had broken up nearly a month ago. She had given you some bullshit excuse about fearing for your wellbeing because of her line of work—fucking self-sabotaging martyr that she was. You called her out on it; told her it was a stupid reason to end the relationship, and she didn’t even argue. Instead, she had the nerve to attempt to reassure you that, despite your shared social circles, things wouldn’t be awkward because the two of you would still be “best friends.” 

You later found out from Ran that there had been some threat made by a disgruntled enforcer involving you, and knowing Sevika, that was probably the impetus that led to her even considering ending things with you. Your safety being at risk. It didn’t change that you were heartbroken, angry, and tear-stained on the best of the days after she left. Not to say that she was doing much better; she’d started chain smoking between glasses of whiskey in the mornings, losing terribly in her games at the last drop; hell, she’d been too dysregulated to work the first three days following the breakup. Silco had never seen her so emotionally volatile.

Despite your heartache, you spent the weeks apart trying to forget Sevika, while all she did was mope in the memory of you—wrestling with her decision that led to her own misery. Inevitably, your friends encouraged you to ‘get back out there,’ to which you, a bit too eagerly, agreed. Were you almost solely motivated by the thrill of potentially seeing Sevika at a location she was known to frequent? Maybe. Still, you let them preen over you, hyping you up as they fawn over how pretty you look; hair and makeup done in the way you knew Sevika liked. The dress you slipped into was not one she had personally seen or had the opportunity to praise. Still, it was her favorite color— something you’d intentionally noted when you bought it out of spite, vying for the opportunity to flaunt it in her direction. It had become the catalyst in your daydreams of getting back together with her— daydreams that were borderline maladaptive, at this point... Still, if she was going to insist on remaining apart, you were going to make her regret it.

The Last Drop never changed— buzzing and neon; alive with shimmer-filled patrons whose pupils were too wide. Arms linked with your friends, letting them move you, you enter the familiar space—your eyes were trained on Sevika’s regular spots; searching for her. You hoped to see her brooding at the end of the stairwell, peacocking while she plays poker in one of the round booths, or smoking near the exit door in the back. Alas, to your disappointment, your eyes don’t find hers, and you are suddenly less interested in being out at all. 

For most of the evening, you mindlessly swipe on one of your dating apps, barely engaged in the conversation amongst your friends. You match with several mildly interesting people—you even set up a date for later that night—but you’re bored; and your eyes keep flitting around the space, hoping for a glimpse of Sevika. The hours tick by, and you’re almost ready to make your friends take you home—but then you hear her voice behind you, saying your name, her tone riddled with confusion, inquisition, and something else you can’t place. 

For a moment, everything around you seems to just stop. Your eyes lock with hers and it’s as if the last month apart never happened. 

“Why are you here?” she continues— and her tone; it doesn’t sit right with you. Your features settle into a glare, as the prior month of yearning to be with her slams to the forefront of your mind. You were pissed. You open your mouth to give her a smart-ass reply when her voice cuts you off.

“C’mere. We need to talk,” she grunts, her prosthetic fingers curling around your arm unexpectedly, drawing a noise of protest from you. You roll your eyes before letting her drag you upstairs to her office, shooting your friends a look that says, ‘I’m fine’ before she pushes you into the room and kicks the door closed. 

Now she’s scowling down at you, and you’re giving it right back to her, crossing your arms.

“A ‘hello’ would have been preferable.” you snap. Sevika doesn’t flinch or react, sighing before leaning against the door. 

“Why are you here?” she says again, although this time she almost sounds sad. 

Your expression falters only slightly before you reply harshly, “Am I not allowed to be?”

Sevika scoffs, shaking her head, her short hair falling in her face. “You never come to The Last Drop unless I’m with you. You have no interest otherwise—”

You snort, interrupting her. “That was when we were dating,” you clarify, stepping forward and tilting your head slightly to glare up at her. Her eyebrows pull into a concerned arch, her expression softening. She’s looking at you like she’s worried about you, almost making you ease up. Almost. You step closer, examining her. You still cared about her…still loved her, so of course, seeing the subtle bags under her eyes made you wonder if she was taking care of herself. 

“Are you…mad that I’m here?” you ask hesitantly, trying not to fidget with your nails. You were worried; feeling guilty for being so desperate to see her, considering your appearance at The Last Drop had made her look at you like you as if you were a ghost. Now, of course, you were ridiculing yourself for potentially hurting her more by being here. Nevertheless, you were also grappling with the fact that she broke up with you; so did she really have any right to look so distraught at your presence alone? 

She seems surprised at your question, glancing down at your almost-fidgeting fingers, and then it clicks for her; your aloof, irritable demeanor is disingenuous.  A smirk crept onto her face, and you picked up on the upward turn of her mouth. 

You scoff, stepping back away and shaking your head, “Forget I asked—” Now she’s grabbing your arm again. 

“Sweet of you to care, but m’not mad,” she mumbles, “just surprised. Thought I broke your heart,” she clicks her tongue, shaking her head and looking you over. “But clearly you’re doing just fine,” she notes, her eyes lingering on your curves too long. 

“You did break my heart– you insufferable––” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath and rolling your eyes. You let her circle you before raising your eyebrow at her. “You don’t own the place, you know…” you protest, wanting to know what she’s thinking–what her intentions were, trying to coax it out of her. 

Sevika runs her prosthetic fingers over the strap of your dress, tugging it lightly to bring you closer to her, humming, “Interesting choice of words…” She moves to touch your face, and you swat her hand away. 

“Stop flirting; why did you drag me up here? I’m not leaving just because you’re pissed off that I’m —” 

She huffs at you, snapping the strap of your dress back to your skin, “I’m not pissed off, you brat,” she snaps, pushing you back into the door, her prosthetic arm caging you in as she leans against you, her flesh hand gripping your waist to move you slightly, then reaching behind your hip to lock the door. 

You huff back at her action, “and why are you doing that?” you ask, your eyes flicking down to her hand. Sevika laughs mockingly and runs her hand back up your side. 

“Do you want to be interrupted?” she asks, grinning at you. You look at her in disbelief, a laugh escaping you. 

“Oh no, we are not having sex,” you shake your head, “you have lost your mind if you think—” Your words die on your tongue as her hand shoots up to grip your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. 

“Say that again,” she demands lowly “Tell me, ‘we aren’t having sex’ again, and I’ll stop. I’ll stop coming to The Last Drop altogether,” she smirks, watching your eyes flicker, glazing over–briefly–before sharpening back into a glare. 'Stubborn', she thinks to herself. She chuckles at your lack of response, dropping her head to kiss at your throat. Under normal circumstances, this would be enough to make you cave, to let her throw you on her desk and submit to her like she wanted—but now? You were livid, shocked at her audacity— she broke up with you.

“You have lost it.” You hiss, pushing at her with your fists on her chest. Her gray eyes look hurt before she narrows them at you again, grabbing your chin with her prosthetic hand to make you look up at her. 

“Are you truly trying to pretend that you didn’t come here, dolled up how I like you,” she wets her lips as she eyes your dress “in this new little number, hoping to see me?” she goads, challenging you. You push at her again, and she laughs. “Admit it—you’re dressed up for me, you want me back,” she smirks. 

You turn around to try and leave through the door, fed up with her attitude as you fumble with the lock. Then you feel her grab your wrists, pinning you to the door once again, her front now pressed to your back.

“Admit it” she repeats. You shake your head, rolling your eyes, deciding to poke the bear… 

“I have a date tonight,” you snap, looking at her over your shoulder, watching her face fall into anger. It was as if you had knocked the wind out of her; she could not stand hearing that you had a date planned. The thought of someone else, the sheer potential of someone else, looking at you, touching you, kissing you, hearing you moan their name the way you moaned hers— she wanted to choke you for even suggesting that as a possibility; wanted to hold you down and remind you who you belonged to. 

“Cancel it.” She hissed. 

“No—” you snipe back immediately, your eyes flicking to your phone in your bag. 

Sevika followed your eyes, and rage struck through her as she realized you were planning to keep your date. She wasn’t thinking straight at this point, her possessiveness and jealousy pushing her over the edge. She released one of your wrists, whipping you around to face her and reaching to snatch your phone with the other. Her body was trembling from anger as she loomed above you, her dark gaze locking on yours, her expression cold. 

“Cancel your date.” She said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument, but it just eggs you on, and now you’re fully committed to pissing her off. 

“Why would I do that?” You ask innocently, your teeth dripping with saliva as you smirk at her. “You’re my ex, Sevika, I don’t have to listen to anything you say,” you sneer. Sevika blinks, shocked at your disobedience, something she was not used to in her relationship with you. 

You take it further, grinning, “What? Are you not used to hearing me tell you no?” you taunt, “maybe you should have thought about that before you—” 

SLAP.

The sound of her flesh hand connecting with your cheek is followed by buzzing silence, and you’re acutely aware of the heat pooling in your tummy. You blink back tears, your widened eyes finding hers again. She’s glaring. 'Oh fuck', you think, your face flushing pink from the sting of her slap. 

“You know better.” she says, rubbing softly at the spot on your cheek she’d smacked. You open your mouth to say something, but she’s shaking her head. Sevika grabs a fistful of your hair in her metal hand and drags you across the room, sweeping your legs up and from under you onto the couch before pushing your face into the worn linen of the cushion. 

“If you won’t cancel your date on your own–” she mumbles, lifting your ass and angrily shoving your dress up around your waist, your dampened panties now on display for her, “I’m going to help you,” she snaps, smirking down at your arousal seeping through the cotton of your underwear. You move to sit up, and she splays her fingers across your back, keeping you down. Sevika sucks her teeth, shaking her head as you hear her move her other hand to un-do her pants. That’s a sound you’re familiar with… 

“Sevika–” you protest with warning before your breath catches at the feel of her tugging your panties to the side; familiar silicone slipping up to nudge your clit. You jolt, your back arching further under her hand on your back. Sevika could not believe you had so casually refused her. She may have been the one to end things, but that was for your own safety; how could you be so oblivious to that rationale? 

It didn’t matter now, though. As far as Sevika was concerned, you were hers, and you apparently needed a reminder that no one else could give you what she could; that no one else was allowed to touch you. Her expression softens as she leans over you, nudging your ear with her nose. 

“Tell me,” she starts, a gentleness in her tone that was agonizingly familiar, “do you want me to stop?” she asks, earning a quick shake of your head as you look back up over your shoulder to meet her gaze. She smirks. “Atta girl,” she murmurs, pecking your cheek.

 “And your pretty face? you okay?” she soothes, letting her lips linger on your cheek until you nod again. Then she’s moving back up and positioning herself behind you. She bites her lip, pleased at the way your thighs spread for her as she begins prodding at you with the tip of her strap. She grunts, her hand on your back moving to dig its nails into the soft flesh of your ass.

“Fuck…” she curses under her breath, squeezing your rear before shifting her grip, opening you more for her as she slowly leans her weight into you, her eyes glued to how your pussy swallows her cock, inch by inch. Sevika’s too mesmerized to register you groaning at first, but when she hears you, she stills, rubbing her thumb over the soft skin of your ass, like she’s contemplating something. Then, suddenly, Sevika leans over you, snapping her hips so that she’s hilted inside of you completely. 

You yelp; panting as your fingers grasp onto the throw pillow your head was propped on. 'Mine', Sevika thinks to herself, pleased with your lack of protest. Sevika was fully convinced that she was the only one allowed to have you, and thinking about the reality that you had actually planned to go on a date—planned on letting someone else even look at you; it was more than she could damn well take. She was angry, jealous, desperate to remind you that you were hers; she slammed her hips into you repeatedly, not giving you an opportunity to adjust to her properly; she couldn’t. She needed you now. 

You whimper, eyes hazy and half-lidded as you look back over your shoulder at her. Sevika smirked, digging her fingers into your hips. Her breathing was becoming more and more dysregulated as she picked your phone back up, thumbing through your messages. She looks at you smugly.

“Do you still want to go on that date?” she asked; a syrupy, taunting sweetness in her tone as she pushed her hips against you in a hard and possessive thrust. You whine, shaking your head, unable to form words. Sevika laughs, leaning down over you again, her body covering your own as her hand tugged at your hair. 

“No?” she growls against your ear, her lips trailing against the side of your jaw “Why the change of heart, hm?” she mocks. 

A breathy, “Just want you, Sev–” leaves your parted lips; your cheeks flush with embarrassment at how easy you were for her. Your gasped confession, combined with the fact that you used her nickname, made her heart rate elevate. She knew exactly how to break you; how to make you submit. 

“What was that?” she whispered against your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she continued to softly pound into you. You groan in embarrassed frustration, struggling to form words. In your blissed-out state, you fail to notice her tabbing over to the contact of the date you had set up, and pressing down on the call button. 

Sevika couldn’t help but smirk as she did so, hearing the line start to ring. It was such a petty thing to do, but she couldn’t deny the feeling of satisfaction she got at the idea of cutting your date short before it even started. She wanted to hear you try to tell your date that you were no longer available. 

The butch remained over you, still thrusting, and held the phone to your ear. Your eyes widen and you try to silence yourself, tucking your head into the throw pillow to muffle your moans. She grinned as she saw your head turn. 

“No,” she said firmly, yanking back on your hair to pull your face out of the pillow. “Don’t you dare hold your voice back, baby.” You freeze when you hear your date’s voice on the other line as they pick up.

“Hello?” they greet, and you bite down on your lip to quiet yourself. Sevika’s smug expression remained plastered on her face as she heard them pick up. She nipped at your opposite ear, whispering to you as your date repeated their greeting, trying to get a response from you. 

“Tell them you can’t go on your date tonight,” she instructs, no longer thrusting into you, only grinding continuously, the tip of her strap rubbing deep inside you, bumping your cervix lewdly. You hesitate, and Sevika tuts, moving the hand that was gripping your hair to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t make me repeat myself—” she hissed, pulling almost entirely out of your cunt before quickly shoving herself back into you, causing you to squeak. You try, you truly try, to keep your tone even as you speak.

“H-hey—” you start, clearing your throat, “I—” 

Sevika is laughing against your ear, her hips slowly picking up pace, wanting to hear you struggle to tell them you couldn’t go. Needing to hear it. She squeezed your throat a little, encouraging you to continue. You swallow thickly, eyes rolling softly before you try to speak again.

“I’m so – ah– M’so sorry—” you stammer out. “I need to raincheck our—our—” 

Sevika chuckles at you struggling, licking the shell of your ear. “What was that, doll? I don’t think your date heard you properly.” She teased, letting go of your throat and running her hand down to palm at your breast. Your cheeks are burning pink, and you struggle to stop yourself from moaning out her name. 

“I’m just— n-not able to go tonight—” you pant through suppressed whimpers. Sevika felt a wave of possessive satisfaction rush through her, her pupils dilating. She was greedy, though, and found herself needing to drive the point home harder. She nibbles at your ear again.

“Who are you canceling this date for?” she demands. You whimper, cheeks hot as you try to avoid her question; you knew what she was doing. She hums, nipping at your earlobe and neck, her lips sloppily sucking at you. “Who? Hm?” she repeats. You couldn’t contain yourself any longer. 

“Sevika—” you moan sweetly, head dropping on the pillow again and eyes fluttering closed as you succumbed to the pleasure she was giving you, knowing your, now canceled-on date had definitely heard your erotic declaration. 

Sevika kissed your ear as she heard the moan you finally let slip after trying desperately to keep your voice in check. She moved her hand to tease at your now swollen clit, causing you to yelp. She put the phone up to her ear, ego-tripping on the way your back was arching to meet her thrusts as she spoke.

“Sorry,” she practically purred into the mic of the cellphone, her tone sardonic. “She won’t be able to make it on that date tonight. Something…came up,” she said as she imagined the confusion on your date’s face at the sound of her voice, but it was all the more satisfying when you whimpered again. She continued to speak, her fingers rubbing tight, slow circles over your twitching bundle nerves. 

“Yeah,” Sevika breathes, her own eyes half-lidded now, squeezing harshly on your clit and moaning when you jerk back on her in response, “yeah, she’s quite busy.” 

You’re keening, looking over your shoulder again to pout up at her, your cheeks rosy—embarrassed by the pornographic squelching of your cunt wrapped around her cock.​​ She caught your gaze, her eyes softening at yours as she pressed firmly on your clit again, chiding as she shook her head, her mouth pulling away from the receiver of the phone to direct her words to you. 

“Aww, baby, what’s that pout for, hm?” she coos. “Blushing because they can hear you taking it like the good girl I know you are?” 

Your lip wobbles, overstimulated and flustered; a strained cry passes your lips –“Please—no more—” 

Sevika takes pity on you, and her touch becomes gentle as she puts the phone in front of your face, her thumb hovering over the button to switch to a video call. You shriek and duck your head back into the pillow.

“Ohmygod Sev!” you protest, causing her to laugh and press a kiss to your shoulder before ending the call, tossing the phone aside. 

“Just messin’ with you, princess,” she hums, rubbing her hand soothingly through your hair before gripping at the roots, tugging your face up. “Now,” she sighs, slipping out of you and using her grip on your hair to guide you onto your back. You whimper in protest, feeling painfully empty as you pout up at her.

“What did I say about pouting, hm?” she scolds, tracing your bottom lip with her thumb. You blush under her stare, suddenly self-conscious without the distraction of the phone call. Her lip twitches into a grin as she slips her copper claws under your dress, scratching lightly at the soft fat of your torso. Your eyebrows turn upward, and your eyes close, mouth agape as you try to find words again. Sevika kisses at your jaw.

“Flattered you wore this just for me,” she coos, “but I wanna see you, honey,” she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your sides before tugging up the hem of your dress. “Arms up, babygirl,” she instructs, slipping it up and off, immediately groaning at the sight of you, bra-less, left only in your underwear before her. Her lips are instantaneously on your neck, hands cupping your chest eagerly. 

“Missed you, baby—” she mutters into your throat. You wanted to deny her, to punish her in some way for ever leaving you in the first place, but you were too far gone, you just wanted to be close to her. Sevika slips your panties off before hiking your legs up around her hips, pressing her forehead to yours as she thrust back into you, moaning softly. Your arms come to wrap around her neck, burying your face into the dip of her shoulder. Sevika hums lowly at you clinging to her.

“M’sorry, angel,” she mumbles into your hair, kissing at your head as she fucks into you. You knew what she meant. She had clearly missed you too. 

“You– better be—” you choke out, your lower lip still puffed out slightly. Sevika moves to hold your throat, rubbing her thumb over your pulse before reaching down to roll one of your peaked nipples between her fingers, her hips snapping to you rhythmically.

“Fuck, baby—” she moans, “taking me so good— so good, angel,” she praises, moving to press two of her organic fingers against your plush lips.

“Open,” she commands. You don’t argue— your mouth parts and she slips her fingers into your mouth. “Suck,” she orders, pinching your other nipple before trailing her hand down between your legs, tapping on your clit several times as she watches you jerk from the stimulation from her prosthetic, the cold metal sending streams of isolated pleasure through you. 

She chuckles, bringing her lips to kiss at your neck—her hips were grinding into you, her thumb was on your clit, her flesh fingers were pumping in and out of your mouth, and you were seeing stars. Sevika sucks on the sensitive skin at the base of your throat, biting harshly, earning a muffled yelp from your full mouth, before laving at the spot with her tongue; soothing you. 

You paw at her shoulders, feeling overstimulated and too close to orgasm to speak, your eyes rolling as you mewl on her fingers. Sevika’s biting turns to kissing on your neck. 

“Close, hm?” she mutters against you, panting as she withdraws her fingers from your mouth, moving her right hand to work at your clit, pinching it suddenly when she pulls her metal digits up to hold you by the back of your head, tilting you so that you’re looking at her.

“You’re mine, understand me, angel?” she says firmly, drinking in the sight of you; disheveled hair, pink cheeks, mouth agape, and dilated pupils. You nod weakly, your back arching sporadically as you feel your orgasm cresting. 

She kisses your lips briefly before letting her head fall to your neck “Come for me, princess,” she encourages. “Need to feel my girl’s pretty pussy come for me,” she coos. 

Her words send you over, a strangled cry leaving your throat as you cling to her, legs trembling as your cunt clenches around her cock, your climax crashing over you; clit throbbing from Sevika’s attention. 

Sevika moans, biting down on your neck to ground herself as she continues to softly rut into you, letting you ride out your release. Her eyes flick up to stare in awe at how your lip trembles as you try to regulate your breathing. Her hips eventually still, and she releases your neck from her teeth, beginning to pepper kisses over your face, bringing both her hands to cup your cheeks. 

“My girl,” she mutters into your skin. You melt into her touch, mind still reeling from the fact that she had canceled your date in such an inflammatory way. She seems to pick up on your thoughts, and she laughs, nuzzling into your neck and sighing. 

“I’m not dumb enough to let you go twice… if you’ll still have me…” she murmurs, sounding much more vulnerable and much less cocky now. You smile, smirking softly as you scratch softly at her scalp. 

“I’ll always have you, Sev,” you reassure her, kissing her forehead. “And for the record…” you start, slyly, as she looks up at you, eyebrows raised.“I only bought this dress so you could take it off,” you say matter-of-factly. She lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head affectionately as she pulls you into another kiss.

[jupiterpilgrim]

Heaven for Three

Yujin x Rei x male reader

word count: 20K

Okay, so here you are: standing in the middle of Yujin’s apartment, your heart is doing a weird drum solo against your ribs, a frantic beat mixing anticipation and a touch of nervous energy. It’s been almost two fucking months. Sixty-three days, if you’re counting, and yeah, you’ve counted every single one. Sixty-three days of shitty time zones, glitchy video calls that froze her face mid-laugh or mid-sentence, and texts that always felt like they were missing something vital, like her touch, her scent, the specific way her eyes crinkle when she’s genuinely amused. You glance at the small, ridiculously expensive cake sitting on her clean kitchen counter, next to a little pile of carefully chosen ‘welcome back’ trinkets, nothing major, just stupid inside-joke things you knew would make her smile.

A Hello Kitty keychain because you know she's obsessed with, some ridiculously flavored snacks she can only get overseas, a framed silly picture of you two from before she left, pulling faces at the camera. It feels both inadequate and excessive after so long apart. You check your phone for the tenth time in as many minutes. Her flight landed an hour ago. Traffic from Incheon can be a bitch, but she should be getting close. The lie you told her: "babe, I'm so sorry, work is chaos, I don't think I can get away until super late, maybe not even tonight", sits heavy in your gut, but the thought of the surprise wipes away the guilt. You wanted this moment, needed it, after weeks of feeling like a background character in her whirlwind life. You needed to see her face when she realized you were here... that you hadn't let the distance win.

You wander into her living room, running a hand over the back of her sofa, picturing her curled up there. God, you miss her. Not just the big moments, but the mundane shit too, arguing over what movie to watch, stealing bites of her food, the way she hums off-key when she’s cooking. The tour looked amazing, professionally, you know it was huge for her and the group, you saw the clips, the screaming crowds, the flashy stages. You were proud, genuinely. But fuck, it was hard. Every picture she posted with her members, every interview where she talked about how much fun she was having, felt like a tiny pinprick to your lonely heart, even though you knew it was irrational. You shake your head, trying to banish the insecurity.

That’s why you planned the other surprise.

One you know she'll love.

A whole week, just the two of you, cocooned away from the world in that ridiculously luxurious mountain cabin you somehow managed to book. Heated floors, private chef service if you wanted it (but you chose absolute privacy), panoramic views, and the pièce de résistance—that outdoor hot spring overlooking a snowy landscape. You grin, imagining her reaction to that. She’s going to lose her mind. You just need her to walk through the door first.

Then, you hear it. The unmistakable sound of a key scraping against the lock. Your breath hitches. Showtime. You quickly duck behind the edge of the doorway leading to the kitchen, heart pounding like crazy now. The door swings open, and you hear the clatter of a suitcase being dropped, followed by a heavy, exhausted sigh that seems to carry the weight of the entire continent she just traversed.

"Finally," Yujin mutters.

You hear her kick off her shoes, the soft thud against the floorboards echoing in the quiet apartment. She’s probably expecting to collapse onto her couch, maybe order takeout, and face the mountain of unpacking tomorrow. She definitely isn't expecting you. You hold your breath, listening to her footsteps padding further into the apartment. She rounds the corner into the living area, probably heading for the light switch, and freezes. You step out from your hiding spot, a slightly shaky grin plastered on your face.

"Surprise?"

Her eyes, wide and shadowed with tiredness beneath the brim of the baseball cap pulled low on her forehead, take a second to register you. First, confusion flickers across her face, then a flash of alarm—maybe thinking you were an intruder—before recognition dawns. Her jaw literally drops. "What the… you… how?" she stammers. The exhaustion mask cracks, replaced by pure, unadulterated shock. And then, it melts away into something else entirely, something raw and overwhelming. Her eyes well up instantly, shimmering under the dim hallway light. "You said… you couldn't…" she chokes out, taking a hesitant step towards you, then another, faster one. Before you can even reply, she closes the distance, launching herself at you with a force that nearly knocks you backward.

Her arms wrap around your neck like she’s drowning and you’re the only life raft, burying her face against your shoulder. You stagger back a step, wrapping your arms tightly around her waist, pulling her flush against you, finally feeling her solid warmth after weeks of holding pixels and air. Her scent, that familiar mix of travel staleness and her underlying sweetness, floods your senses, more intoxicating than any perfume. She’s trembling, or maybe you both are, clinging to each other desperately.

"Fuck, I missed you," she sobs into your jacket. "I missed you so much."

You just hold her tighter, burying your face in her hair, murmuring, "Me too, baby. God, me too," over and over again, unable to form more coherent words. The sheer relief of having her back in your arms is dizzying, eclipsing everything else.

After what feels like an eternity, she finally pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. Her face is tear-streaked, her cap askew, her eyes red-rimmed but shining with a fierce, desperate joy. Her hands come up to cup your face, thumbs tracing your cheekbones as if verifying you're real. "You're really here," she whispers, a watery smile breaking through. "You lied to me." There’s no heat in it, only wonder.

"Best lie I ever told," you manage.

You lean down and finally kiss her, a collision of longing and relief. It’s not gentle; it’s desperate, hungry, a reclaiming. Her lips are soft and instantly responsive, kissing you back with an equal measure of pent-up need. It’s messy and frantic, tongues tangling, hands clutching, trying to bridge the gap of the last two months in a single moment. It tastes like her, like exhaustion, like the faint saltiness of her tears, and it’s the best fucking thing you’ve tasted in sixty-three days.

You pull apart, both breathless, foreheads resting against each other. "Happy welcome home," you whisper against her lips. She lets out a shaky laugh, a sound that makes your heart clench. "This is… way better than takeout." She finally seems to register her surroundings, her gaze flicking past you to the cake and gifts on the counter. "And you brought cake?" A real smile, wide and bright, finally lights up her tired face. "Of course. And some other stupid stuff." You gently disentangle yourself, keeping one hand linked with hers, and lead her towards the kitchen. She picks up the ridiculous keychain, her laugh louder this time. "You remembered!" She hugs it to her chest like it's treasure before eagerly tearing into the snacks. You watch her, contentment washing over you. Seeing her here, safe, happy, touching the silly gifts you brought… It feels like clicking back into place.

She’s halfway through a weirdly flavored chip, eyes drooping slightly as the adrenaline rush starts to fade, replaced by the bone-deep weariness of international travel. "Okay," she says, rubbing her eyes. "As much as I want to just stand here and kiss you senseless until tomorrow, I think I might actually pass out vertically." She manages a tired grin. "Bed?" You shake your head, reaching out to take the chip bag from her hand, a playful glint in your eye. "Not just yet. I have one more surprise." Her eyebrows shoot up, curiosity momentarily chasing away the fatigue. "Another one? What could possibly top you ambushing me in my own apartment?" You grab your phone, pulling up the booking confirmation for the mountain house, complete with pictures of the stunning interior, the snow-dusted peaks outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the steaming outdoor hot spring.

You turn the screen towards her. "How about a week of this? Starting tomorrow. Just you and me. No schedules, no managers, no interruptions. Our own private little world." Her eyes scan the screen, widening progressively with each photo she swipes through. The chip bag slips completely from her other hand, scattering onto the floor unnoticed. Then she looks up at you, eyes blazing with an incandescent mixture of disbelief and pure, unadulterated joy that completely obliterates any lingering trace of tiredness. "Are you serious?" she breathes. "A whole week? There?" You nod, unable to stop grinning. "Booked and paid for. Pack your warmest clothes... and maybe not much else." That last part gets you the reaction you were hoping for. She lets out an earsplitting shriek of pure happiness, jumping up and down on the spot before throwing her arms around your neck again, kissing you wildly all over your face—cheeks, nose, forehead, lips.

"Oh my god! Oh my GOD! You absolute lunatic! I fucking love you!" she laughs breathlessly against your skin. "A hot spring? Seriously? Outside? In the snow?" The tiredness is completely gone. She pulls back, grabbing your hands, her eyes dancing. "Wait, we leave tomorrow? What time? I need to pack! What should I bring? Is there snow right now? Can we go sledding? Oh my god, just us for a week…" The questions tumble out of her, fast and excited, her mind already racing ahead to the mountains, to the seclusion, to the uninterrupted time with you. The strain of the past two months, the worry, the distance, it all seems to evaporate in the face of this grand gesture, this promise of reconnection. She squeezes your hands, her face radiating pure, unadulterated bliss. The apartment, the unpacking, the jet lag are all forgotten, replaced by the dazzling prospect of the week ahead.

—

The next morning dawns bright and ridiculously early, not that either of you got much sleep. Packing is a blur of excited energy and low-key chaos. Yujin, despite her professed exhaustion just hours before, is practically bouncing off the walls, flitting between her closet and her suitcases like a hummingbird on espresso. You try to inject some calm organization, making sure essentials like chargers, toiletries, and the really warm coats make it in, while she debates the merits of bringing five different oversized hoodies versus six. "They're for comfort," she insists, holding up two nearly identical grey ones. "Crucial for optimal relaxation!" You just laugh, shaking your head and adding her favorite fuzzy socks to the pile.

Loading the car feels like a victory, the city streets gradually giving way to highways, then winding country roads. The further you drive from Seoul, the more the tension seems to drain from Yujin’s shoulders, replaced by a palpable sense of freedom. She’s got her feet up on the dashboard, a habit you usually nag her about, but not today, scrolling through playlists, and chattering away. She tells you about the last few gigs, the roar of the crowd in Manila, the weird hotel food in Jakarta, the sheer relief when they nailed that difficult choreography transition during the final encore in Bangkok. She doesn’t dwell on the negatives, but you can read between the lines; the gruelling schedule, the lack of sleep, the constant pressure...

"Honestly," she sighs, leaning her head back against the seat, eyes closed for a moment, "by the end, I was just running on fumes and caffeine. Seeing the fans is amazing, always, but… fuck, I needed this. Needed you."

She reaches over, her hand finding yours on the center console, fingers intertwining tightly. "I just want to... melt. No schedules, no makeup unless I feel like it, just… exist. With you." Her thumb strokes the back of your hand, sending little shivers up your arm despite the car's heating blasting. You squeeze her fingers, bringing her hand up to kiss her knuckles.

"Melting is the primary objective for the week, Captain."

She grins, her eyes sparkling. "Aye aye."

The landscape transforms dramatically as you climb higher, tarmac roads turning into gravel tracks, the air growing crisp and smelling faintly of pine. Eventually, the road becomes impassable for the car. "End of the line," you announce, pulling into a small, designated clearing barely big enough for one vehicle. "Time for phase two." You both bundle up in layers; thermal wear, thick sweaters, insulated jackets, hats, gloves. The air bites at your exposed cheeks the moment you step out of the car's warmth. It’s invigorating. You haul your backpacks and duffels from the trunk, the silence profound, broken only by the wind whispering through the tall trees and the distant chirping of unseen birds. The path forward is marked but looks barely used, winding uphill through dense woods dusted with a layer of yesterday’s snow that crunches satisfyingly under your boots.

It's not a hardcore trek, but it's enough to get your blood pumping and reinforce the delicious feeling of isolation. Yujin, surprisingly energetic, takes the lead, every so often, she stops, pulling out her phone to snap pictures of frost-covered branches or panoramic valley views glimpsed through breaks in the trees. "Okay, this is already insane," she breathes, her breath misting in the cold air, turning back to grin at you. "Worth the hike." You nod, catching up to her, stealing a quick, cold-nosed kiss. "Told you."

After maybe thirty minutes of steady climbing, the trees thin out, and you see it. Nestled on a slight plateau, overlooking a breathtaking expanse of rolling hills and snow-capped peaks, is the house. It's a modern marvel of wood, stone, and glass, somehow managing to look both incredibly chic and perfectly integrated into the rugged landscape. Smoke curls lazily from a stone chimney, the landlord wasn't lying when he assured you that the house would already be heated before you arrived.

"Holy shit," Yujin whispers, grabbing your arm, her eyes wide. "It's… wow."

You share a triumphant grin. "Welcome home for the week."

The final approach feels almost ceremonial, crunching through the pristine snow towards the heavy wooden front door. You fumble slightly with the key code—cold fingers—and then the door swings inward, revealing the sanctuary within. The difference is immediate and staggering. Warm air, thick with the scent of cedarwood and a crackling fire, washes over you, melting the chill from your bones. The interior is stunning: plush, deep-toned sofas are arranged around a massive stone fireplace where logs are already blazing merrily. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominate one wall, showcasing the incredible mountain view like a living artwork. Polished wooden floors are softened by thick, inviting rugs. It’s the epitome of cozy luxury, a perfect cocoon against the stark beauty outside. You drop your bags by the door with simultaneous sighs of relief.

Yujin lets out a low whistle, spinning slowly in place, taking it all in. "Okay, you officially win all the points," she declares, already shrugging off her heavy jacket. "This is beyond anything I imagined." She doesn't even pause to properly explore. Her eyes, scanning the space, seem to fix on an internal goal: maximum comfort, immediately. "Right," she announces, kicking off her hiking boots without bothering to undo the laces properly. "Operation Melt starts now." She disappears through a doorway you assume leads to the bedroom wing, shedding layers as she goes; hat tossed onto a chair, gloves stuffed into pockets.

You start unlacing your own boots, chuckling softly. Her single-minded focus on relaxation is adorable. You hear drawers opening and closing in the other room, then silence for a minute. When she reappears, you honestly have to stop yourself from staring. Gone are the bulky, practical travel layers. She’s changed into a pair of soft, charcoal-grey leggings that cling lovingly to every curve of her lower body—the swell of her hips, the undeniable thickness of her thighs, the perfect roundness of her ass. Up top, she’s wearing a simple, slightly cropped, cream-colored fluffy sweater that leaves a tantalizing strip of smooth skin visible at her waist when she stretches.

Her hair is pulled back loosely, stray strands framing her face, her skin glowing from the hike and the warmth of the house. She looks soft, touchable, and incredibly sexy in a way that stage outfits or carefully curated airport fashion never quite capture. It’s the casual, effortless confidence, the way the soft fabric hugs her figure, showcasing the solid, athletic build beneath; those strong thighs honed by years of dancing, the curve of her calves, the gentle slope of her stomach.

Fuck, you think, she really does have a 'thick and juicy' body, as the internet often thirsted over, and seeing it displayed so casually, so comfortably, right here in your shared private space, hits differently. It makes something low and primal stir inside you, a possessive urge mixing with pure adoration. She looks utterly relaxed, utterly herself, and it’s ridiculously hot.

She pads barefoot across the wooden floor towards the massive sofa, throwing herself onto it with a contented sigh that echoes in the high-ceilinged room. She curls up against the plush cushions, tucking her feet beneath her, already looking half-asleep but utterly blissful. "Okay," she murmurs, eyes fluttering closed for a second. "I could get used to this." You stand there for a moment, just watching her, the discarded hiking gear at your feet, the fire crackling merrily, the stunning view outside the window, and the sight of her, finally here, finally relaxed, looking so damn edible in her comfy clothes.

You don't move for a long moment, just drinking in the sight of her curled up on that ridiculously plush sofa, bathed in the warm glow of the fireplace. That sliver of pale skin exposed by the cropped fluffy sweater at her waist seems to pulse with warmth in the firelight, an invitation your body understands even if your brain is still catching up to the reality of finally being here. Two months. Two fucking months of cold screens and yearning touches that never landed.

The sight of her, so real, so soft, so utterly desirable in her deliberate comfort, short-circuits something in your chest. That simmering desire, kept on a low boil for weeks by distance and shitty Wi-Fi connections, suddenly cranks to high, threatening to boil over.

Unpacking? Later.

Relaxation? This feels like a much more urgent, much more necessary form of melting right now.

You move before you consciously decide to, crossing the space between you, your own discarded jacket and boots forgotten near the door. You approach the sofa, your shadow falling over her. Yujin's eyes flutter open, a lazy, contented smile gracing her lips. "Hey," she murmurs. "Comfy?" Her smile falters slightly, replaced by a flicker of understanding, then a dawning heat that mirrors your own. Her breath catches almost imperceptibly. She knows this look. She hasn't seen it directed at her, in person, for far too long. You don't say anything, just kneel on the thick rug beside the sofa, bringing yourself level with her. You reach out, your fingers tracing the exposed line of skin at her waist. She shivers, a full-body tremor this time, and her eyes darken, pupils blown wide.

"Yeah?" she whispers, the single word thick with implication, a question and permission all at once.

Your hand slides under the fluffy fabric of her sweater, fingers splaying across the surprising warmth of her stomach. Her skin is so soft, yielding. You lean in, capturing her mouth in a kiss that’s miles away from the desperate reunion clashes at her apartment door last night. This is slow, deliberate, a claiming. You taste the lingering sweetness of whatever snack she was eating, mixed with her own unique flavor, a taste you’ve craved like a lifeline. Her lips part instantly, inviting you deeper, her tongue meeting yours with an eagerness that betrays her own carefully banked fire. Her hand comes up, fingers tangling in your hair, pulling you closer, erasing the last few inches between you.

The kiss deepens, grows hungrier. The slow burn explodes into a wildfire. Two months of frustration, of longing, of picturing this exact moment, fuels the escalating intensity. Your hands are everywhere, rediscovering her shape, her feel. One hand slides up her ribcage, thumb brushing the underside of her breast through the thin material of whatever bra she has on under the sweater, eliciting a soft gasp against your mouth. Your other hand isn't idle; it slides down from her waist, over the curve of her hip encased in the soft grey leggings. You squeeze, feeling the solid, powerful muscle beneath the yielding flesh. God, her thighs. You’ve fantasized about being wrapped around them again, feeling their strength. She moans into the kiss, a low, guttural sound that vibrates through your connection, arching her back slightly, pressing her hips forward into your touch almost instinctively.

She breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to breathe, her chest rising and falling rapidly, cheeks flushed. "Fuck," she pants, her eyes glazed with need. "Okay. Operation Melt just got… upgraded." You grin, leaning down to press kisses along her jawline, down her neck, finding that sensitive spot just below her ear that always makes her squirm. She shudders, tilting her head to give you better access, her fingers tightening in your hair. "Been waiting," you murmur against her skin, "to make you melt." Your hand slides further down her thigh, fingers tracing the seam of the leggings, heading towards the juncture of her legs. She shifts on the sofa, unconsciously spreading her knees slightly, a silent invitation. The fluffy sweater suddenly feels like too much of a barrier. You pull back slightly, your eyes locking with hers.

"Too many clothes," you state. She nods mutely, already reaching for the hem of her sweater.

Helping her pull the soft garment over her head feels like unwrapping the most precious gift. Underneath, she’s wearing a simple, dark sports bra that pushes her breasts together slightly, framing their soft swell. Her skin gleams in the firelight, smooth and inviting. You don't hesitate, leaning down to capture the peak of one breast through the fabric, sucking firmly. Yujin cries out, her back arching off the sofa cushions, hands flying to grip your shoulders. "Oh, fuck… yes," she gasps, hips tilting up again. You lave attention to both sides, switching back and forth, using teeth and tongue, feeling her nipples bead into tight points against the damp fabric. Her breath comes in short, sharp pants, her fingers digging into your muscles.

While your mouth is busy, your hands work on the leggings, hooking your thumbs into the waistband. She lifts her hips obligingly, helping you peel the tight fabric down over the generous curve of her ass, down her thick, strong thighs, past her knees, until they're bunched around her ankles. She kicks them off impatiently. Now she's wearing only the sports bra and a pair of simple, dark cotton panties. The sight is devastatingly intimate, devastatingly hot. Her thighs are bare now, powerful and pale in the flickering light, slightly parted. You move your attention lower, pressing kisses to the strip of skin above her waistband, then lower still, nosing at the fabric covering her mound. She groans, tangling her hands back in your hair, trying to guide you. "Please…" she whimpers

You oblige, replacing your mouth with your hand, pressing your palm flat against her mound through the cotton. She’s already damp, the fabric clinging slightly. She whimpers again, bucking her hips against your touch. You slide your fingers beneath the elastic band, finding her slick heat immediately. She gasps, her eyes rolling back slightly. Two months. You can feel the sheer amount of desperate need radiating from her. Your fingers explore, finding her clit, already swollen and sensitive. You circle it gently at first, then with increasing pressure, watching her face contort with pleasure.

"Oh god… don't stop," she pleads, her voice strained.

You add another finger, sliding inside her wet heat. She’s so tight, so welcoming, slick and ready for you. You pump your fingers in and out, slow and deep, while your thumb continues its relentless work on her clit. Her hips rise off the sofa to meet your rhythm, her moans becoming louder, less inhibited. The sound echoes slightly in the large, high-ceilinged room, mixing with the crackle of the fire. You move from the floor onto the sofa beside her, straddling her hips, needing to be closer, needing to feel all of her. You kiss her again, deeply, swallowing her moans, while your fingers continue their magic below. She claws at your back, leaving trails of heat through your shirt.

It's not enough. You need to be inside her. Now. You pull back from the kiss, fumbling with the button and zipper of your jeans, kicking them off hastily along with your boxers, leaving them in a heap on the floor. Your cock springs free, hard and aching. Yujin's eyes lock onto it, a predatory gleam mixing with the raw need. She reaches out, her hand closing around your length, her touch both hesitant and demanding after the long absence.

"Missed this," she whispers, stroking you slowly, deliberately. You groan, gritting your teeth.

"Fuck, Yujin…" You gently push her hand away. "My turn."

You reposition yourself between her legs. Her thighs fall open wider, granting you full access. She looks up at you, eyes dark pools of anticipation, biting her lower lip. You take the hem of her sports bra, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it aside. Her breasts spill free, perky and pale, nipples still tight and dark from your earlier attention. You lean down, kissing the valley between them, then take one nipple into your mouth again, sucking hard as you position the head of your cock at her entrance. She cries out, her body tensing, hands gripping your biceps. Her slickness coats you, hot and welcoming. With a low groan, driven by sixty-three days of pent-up frustration, you push forward, sinking into her heat.

Her gasp is sharp, her eyes squeezing shut as you fill her completely. Fuck, she feels incredible. Tight, wet, impossibly hot. It’s like coming home after the longest, hardest journey. You stay still for a moment, buried deep inside her, letting both of you adjust to the overwhelming sensation of being joined again. Her inner muscles clench around you involuntarily, drawing a pained groan from your own throat.

You rest your forehead against hers, both of you breathing heavily. "Okay?" you whisper. She nods, eyes fluttering open, glazed but focused on you. "More than okay," she breathes. "Don't you dare stop now." That’s all the encouragement you need. You begin to move, pulling back slowly, almost completely, before thrusting back in deep. Yujin throws her head back against the cushions, a long, keening moan escaping her lips. You establish a rhythm, slow and deep at first, savoring the friction, the feeling of her tight pussy gripping you with every inward stroke.

Her hands slide down your back, fingers digging into the muscles of your ass, urging you deeper, faster. You oblige, picking up the pace, your thrusts becoming harder, more frantic. The sofa bounces slightly beneath you, the only sounds the crackling fire, your ragged breaths, her increasingly desperate moans, and the wet slap of your bodies colliding. Firelight flickers across her sweat-slicked skin, highlighting the flush spreading across her chest, the cords standing out in her neck as she arches into each thrust. Her legs come up, wrapping around your waist, locking her ankles behind your back, pulling you impossibly deeper. The angle is perfect, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out your name.

"Fuck, right there… yes…" she gasps, her nails scoring lines on your back, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to leave marks, claiming you. You lower yourself, bracing your hands on the sofa cushions on either side of her head, driving into her relentlessly. You watch her face, her expression a mixture of intense pleasure and building pressure. Her eyes are squeezed shut again, her lower lip caught between her teeth. You lean down, kissing her fiercely, swallowing her breathless cries.

The intensity builds, coiling tight in your belly, mirroring the tension you see in her straining body. Her hips buck beneath you, meeting your thrusts with equal force, chasing her release. You feel her inner muscles starting to clench rhythmically around your cock, fluttering desperately. "Fuck," Yujin gasps, her eyes snapping open to lock with yours, pupils blown wide, swirling with raw lust. "God, I am so fucking horny for you right now, I can barely breathe. It’s insane."

You smirk, leaning down to capture her mouth in a brutal, tongue-tangling kiss, one hand sliding down to grip her ass cheek, kneading the firm flesh. "Tell me about it," you bite out against her lips when you finally pull back for air. "Feeling you this tight, this wet around my cock… knowing I'm the only one who gets you like this… driving me fucking crazy, baby." You emphasize the point with a particularly deep, grinding thrust that makes her cry out, nails digging into your shoulders hard enough to sting this time. "Yes! Oh god, yes! Just like that!" she pants, bucking her hips frantically against you. "Fuck, I love your cock. I missed it so much. Just having you inside me… it feels… perfect. Don't stop, please don't ever stop."

Her admission, the sheer worship in her tone as she talks about your cock, sends a fresh wave of heat straight to your groin. You pick up the pace, pounding into her relentlessly, your rhythm savage, pushing her further and further towards the edge. Her moans become higher pitched, more desperate, her body starting to tremble with oncoming pleasure.

"Oh fuck… oh god… I'm getting so close," she whimpers, her eyes squeezed shut again, face contorted in a mask of excruciating pleasure. "So close… please…!" You feel the tension coiling in your own body, your balls tightening, the inevitable climax building like a pressure cooker. "Me too, baby," you groan, your own voice strained now, pushing faster, harder. "Fuck, I'm right there with you…" Yujin's eyes fly open again, fucking onto yours with fierce intensity, a desperate plea shining within their depths. "Then cum with me!" she begs, her voice cracking with urgency. "Please, please cum inside me! Now! Fill me up! I need it! I need your cum inside me so bad!" Her hips buck harder, grinding against you in a frenzy.

Fuck. Hearing her beg like that, so needy, so utterly consumed by lust, demanding your seed deep inside her… it obliterates any remaining shred of control you might have had. You love this side of her, the hidden 'slutty' Yujin that only you get to see, the one who sheds all pretense and just needs to be filled, used, claimed. "Yeah, baby?" you manage, leaning down close to her ear. "You want me to fill that tight little pussy up? Want my hot cum flooding your womb?"

You give another vicious thrust, feeling her inner walls clench hard around you. She nods frantically, tears of sheer pleasure and desperation starting to leak from the corners of her eyes.

"Yes! Please! Begging you! Fill me up! Cum in me now!"

That's it. Her desperate, slutty plea shatters your control completely. "FUCK YES!" you roar, abandoning all finesse, slamming into her with everything you have, a final series of deep, punishing thrusts aimed at driving yourself as deep as physically possible. "I'm cumming babe, I'm cumming on your cock!" Her answering scream is pure ecstasy as her orgasm rips through her, her body convulsing violently around your straining cock, milking you with impossible strength.

That final, desperate clenching triggers your own release. With a guttural shout that echoes hers, you explode, unloading torrents of thick, hot cum deep within her tight pussy. You keep thrusting hard as you come, pumping every last drop into her, feeling the incredibly intimate sensation of filling her completely, picturing your seed flooding her womb just like she begged for. It's a volcanic release, fueled by weeks of absence and the sheer intensity of her begging, far more powerful than usual.

As your orgasm finally subsides, leaving you utterly spent, you feel her own shudders gradually lessen, though she continues to clench around you sporadically. She just melts underneath you, boneless and whimpering softly, completely overwhelmed. You collapse onto her, burying your face back into her neck, trying to catch your breath, your heart pounding like a drum against hers. You know how much she loves this, how much she craves the feeling of being filled by you, and the thought that she went two whole months without it… no wonder you both just about broke the fucking sofa.

You stay like that for a long time, glued together, skin sticky with sweat, limbs tangled, the only sounds the crackling fire and your slowly normalizing breaths. You can feel the warmth of your cum seeping out of her slightly, pooling between her legs and onto the expensive upholstery beneath her ass. Neither of you cares. The intimacy of the moment, the sheer relief and satisfaction, is profound. Her arms are wrapped loosely around your back, her cheek resting against your chest, her breathing soft against your skin. Eventually, she stirs, lifting her head slightly, her eyes soft, languid, utterly content. She presses a soft kiss to your collarbone. "Okay," she whispers, voice still rough with spent passion. "That was… worth the wait."

She shifts slightly, and you feel a little more of your cum trickle down her thigh. She glances down, then back up at you, a mischievous glint entering her eyes. "Speaking of waiting… that hot spring is still out there. Probably nice and warm by now…" She arches an eyebrow suggestively. "Seems like a good excuse to get cleaned up… maybe?" You chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her 'excuses' are rarely subtle. "Yeah? Think maybe we need to wash all this… evidence… off?" You gesture vaguely at the sticky mess on her, you, and the sofa. She grins. "Exactly. Wouldn't want to stain the furniture on day one."

Getting untangled and upright takes effort, muscles pleasantly sore, bodies feeling heavy and satisfied. You're both naked now, clothes discarded in haste much earlier. You grab a couple of the ridiculously fluffy towels the house provided, tossing one to her. Standing there, naked in the warm glow of the fire, you take a moment to just appreciate her body—the flush still high on her cheeks and chest, the slight sheen of sweat, the curve of her hips and those incredible thighs, slightly marked by your grip. She catches you looking and smiles, a soft, knowing smile. "Like what you see?" she teases, stretching languidly, making her breasts jiggle slightly. "Always," you reply honestly, your voice still a bit thick. You lead the way to the back door, opening it to a blast of cold night air.

The contrast is sharp after the cozy warmth inside. Steam rises invitingly from the stone-lined hot spring built into a wooden deck area just outside, partially sheltered by the overhang of the roof but open to the starry sky above. The surrounding snow glows faintly blue in the moonlight. "Last one in is…" Yujin starts, but doesn't finish, instead making a quick dash across the freezing deck boards with a little shriek and sliding into the steaming water with an audible sigh of pure bliss. "Oh my god, that's amazing," she calls out, sinking down until the water reaches her chin, her eyes closed in pleasure. She opens them again, looking at you expectantly. "Come on!"

You hesitate at the edge, the cold biting at your bare skin. "In a sec," you call back. "Figured Operation Melt might require refueling soon. Gonna grab some snacks first." Yujin pouts dramatically for a second, then her expression softens. "Okay, fine," she concedes. "I am starving, actually. You're the best." You flash her a grin and duck back inside, heading for the well-stocked kitchen.

You quickly assemble a platter—some cheese, crackers, fruit, some chocolate you found in the welcome basket, plus a couple of bottles of cold water. Balancing the tray, you head back out. The cold air feels even colder now after the brief respite inside. Yujin is leaning back against the edge of the spring, watching the steam curl into the night sky, looking completely serene. You carefully set the snack tray down on the edge of the deck within easy reach before finally stepping down the submerged stone steps into the hot spring yourself. The heat is instantaneous, intense, enveloping you like a comforting blanket, chasing away the chill in seconds. You let out a sigh of relief, sinking into the water opposite her.

She watches you enter, her eyes soft and filled with an undeniable warmth that has nothing to do with the water temperature. There's gratitude there, affection, and a deep, simmering satisfaction. "Seriously," she says, the words soft and sincere, paddling a little closer to you through the steam. "Thank you. For… all of this." She gestures vaguely, encompassing the house, the trip, maybe even the mind-blowing sex you just had. "You're just… amazing. Spoiling me like this after I was gone so long." She reaches out, trailing her fingers lightly across your chest under the water. "I really need to figure out a really good way to reward you properly this week, make it up to you…" Her eyes hold yours, full of promise, the steam swirling around you both like a curtain, creating your own private world under the vast, cold night sky.

—

You wake up slowly on the second day, cocooned in an almost obscene amount of warmth and softness. Sunlight streams through a gap in the heavy curtains, painting a bright stripe across the ridiculously comfortable king-size bed. Yujin is still fast asleep, curled against your side, one arm thrown possessively over your chest, her face relaxed and peaceful in a way you haven't seen since before the tour madness began. Her dark hair is fanned out across the crisp white pillowcase, strands clinging slightly to her cheek. You watch the slow, even rise and fall of her breathing, feeling a profound sense of peace settle over you.

This.

This is what you both needed.

Just quiet, uninterrupted closeness. You resist the urge to wake her, instead just lying there, soaking in the silence, the luxury, and the simple fact that she's here.

Eventually, her eyelids flutter. She murmurs something incoherent, nuzzling closer into your warmth like a contented cat before her eyes finally drift open. They focus on you, still hazy with sleep, and a slow, soft smile spreads across her face. "Morning," she whispers.

"Morning, sleepyhead," you reply, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. She hums contentedly, stretching languidly under the duvet, her bare leg brushing against yours. The casual intimacy sends a familiar jolt through you, but it’s softer this morning, less frantic need, more simmering appreciation.

Getting out of bed happens eventually, reluctantly. You pad into the sleek, modern bathroom together, brushing your teeth side-by-side, sharing sleepy smiles in the mirror. Yujin pulls on one of your oversized band t-shirts that you packed, the hem falling to her mid-thighs, and pairs it with some ridiculously tiny, lacy black sleep shorts that barely peek out from underneath. It's an ensemble that's simultaneously adorable, comfortable, and mind-bendingly sexy. She knows it, too. As she heads out to the kitchen ahead of you, presumably in search of caffeine, she pauses in the doorway, turns back, and gives her hips a slow, deliberate sway, her ass looking incredible beneath the soft cotton of your shirt. She catches your eye in the mirror, winks, and then disappears around the corner, leaving you momentarily stunned and already half-hard before you've even had coffee.

She’s going to make this week exquisitely torturous, isn’t she?

You follow her out, finding her already navigating the high-end coffee machine like a pro. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the spacious open-plan living area. The fire from last night has died down to embers, but the underfloor heating keeps the whole place incredibly toasty. You pour yourselves mugs of steaming coffee, adding a splash of milk, and wander over to the massive windows. The view is even more spectacular in the daylight: crisp white snow blanketing everything, distant peaks sharp against a brilliant blue sky, sunlight glinting off the icy surfaces. You stand there for a while, sipping your coffee, shoulder-to-shoulder, just taking it all in. "It's unreal," Yujin murmurs, leaning her head against your shoulder. "Feels like we're in a snow globe."

Breakfast is a joint effort in the state-of-the-art kitchen. You find pancake mix in the well-stocked pantry, while Yujin tackles frying bacon and scrambling eggs, humming happily off-key. Working together feels easy, natural, falling back into a comfortable rhythm despite the months apart. There’s playful nudging, stealing bites of bacon straight from the pan (earning you a light smack with a spatula from Yujin), and lots of laughter. You eat sitting at the solid wood dining table, sunlight streaming in, talking about everything, trying to make up for lost time. She tells you more anecdotes from the tour, the funny mishaps, the exhaustion, but it’s lighter now, told with the relief of someone who’s reached the finish line and can finally breathe. You devour the delicious food—fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon, perfectly scrambled eggs—feeling utterly content.

After cleaning up together (a surprisingly domestic and pleasant task in this setting), the clear skies and stunning scenery outside beckon. "Walk?" you suggest. Yujin nods eagerly. "Definitely. Need to explore our kingdom." You bundle up again, the ritual of layering thermals and jackets feeling familiar now. You grab your phone, intending to capture the beauty of the place, and maybe its most beautiful inhabitant. The air outside is bitingly cold but incredibly fresh, scrubbing your lungs clean. You follow a different path this time, one that leads away from the house and deeper into the surrounding pine forest. The snow crunches loudly under your boots, the only sound besides your own breathing and the occasional gust of wind sighing through the branches overhead. Sunlight filters through the trees, making the snow sparkle like scattered diamonds.

Yujin is captivated, constantly pointing out animal tracks in the snow, or the intricate patterns of frost on fallen leaves. You hang back slightly, watching her, and start taking pictures. You capture her profile as she gazes up at a particularly tall, snow-laden tree, her breath misting in the air. You snap a shot of her laughing as she nearly slips on a patch of ice, catching herself at the last second. You get one of her turning back towards you, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, eyes sparkling with life and happiness, a genuine, unguarded smile gracing her lips. "Hey," she calls, noticing you aiming your phone. "Paparazzi even out here?" She strikes a deliberately goofy pose, hand on hip, lips pursed. You laugh, snapping that one too. "Can't help it," you call back, lowering the phone and walking towards her. "You look incredible."

You show her the pictures, scrolling through them. Especially the candid one, the laughing one. "See? Told you." You zoom in slightly on her smiling face against the snowy backdrop. "Absolutely beautiful." She ducks her head, a genuine blush rising on her cheeks this time, distinct from the cold-induced pinkness. "Stop," she mumbles, but she leans against you, looking at the photos on your screen, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Okay, maybe that one's kinda cute," she admits, pointing to the laughing shot.

You spend another hour exploring, venturing further until you reach a ridge with an even more expansive view of the valley below. You take more photos, some posed, some candid, each one capturing a piece of her relaxed joy, her stunning beauty amplified by the raw, majestic nature surrounding you. Every time you tell her how good she looks, she either preens playfully or swats your arm, but you see the pleasure it brings her in her eyes.

Returning to the house feels like stepping back into a warm embrace. You shed your cold-weather gear by the door, toes and fingers tingling as they warm up. Hot chocolate feels mandatory. You whip some up using the fancy milk frother and some high-quality chocolate flakes you found, topping them with whipped cream. You curl up on opposite ends of the massive sofa, feet tucked underneath you, mugs warming your hands, the silence comfortable again. Yujin sighs contentedly after a long sip. "This is literally heaven," she murmurs, eyes closed. The afternoon drifts by in a haze of blissful relaxation.

You put on some mellow music. Yujin finds a stack of glossy art books on a shelf and gets absorbed in one, while you try to read but find your eyes constantly drifting towards her. She's kicked off her socks now, feet bare. Your t-shirt has ridden up slightly as she shifted, revealing more of those ridiculously enticing lace shorts and the smooth curve of her hip. She seems completely oblivious, lost in her book, occasionally pushing her hair back from her face or biting her lip in concentration. Every small movement she makes sends a jolt of awareness through you.

The memory of how she felt beneath you last night, how she begged for you, is a constant, simmering undercurrent beneath the placid surface of the afternoon. Later, she gets up to refill her water bottle, pausing on her way back from the kitchen. She stretches languidly, arms reaching high above her head, arching her back. The movement pulls your t-shirt taut across her breasts and lifts the hem significantly, giving you a deliberate, heart-stopping view of her ass in those tiny black shorts. She holds the stretch for just a moment too long, catches your eye, and gives you a slow, knowing smirk before dropping her arms and continuing back to the sofa as if nothing happened. Fucking tease.

As evening approaches, you decide on dinner. The fridge is stocked with ingredients for steak, asparagus, and potatoes. Cooking together again is just as fun as breakfast, maybe even more so now that you've opened a bottle of red wine. Yujin expertly sears the steaks while you handle the sides, moving around each other easily in the spacious kitchen. She's still in your t-shirt and the tiny shorts, seemingly uncaring that she's flashing generous amounts of thigh and occasionally the curve of her butt cheek as she bends or reaches. You're pretty sure she's doing it on purpose now, enjoying the effect she has on you.

You sneak up behind her while she's focused on basting the steaks, wrapping your arms around her waist, pulling her back against your chest. You nuzzle her neck, inhaling her scent mixed with the delicious aroma of cooking food. "Smells amazing," you murmur. She leans back into you, tilting her head slightly. "The steak, or me?" she teases, turning her head just enough to press a quick, wine-flavored kiss to your lips before deftly flipping the steaks.

You eat dinner by candlelight, the food tasting incredible, the wine warming you further. Afterwards, instead of retreating back to the sofa, you brave the cold for a few minutes, stepping out onto the deck, wrapped in blankets this time, to look at the stars. The sky here, away from city lights, is unbelievable; a vast, dark canvas dusted with millions of brilliant stars. Yujin leans heavily against you, pointing out constellations she recognizes. The peacefulness is immense, broken only by your soft voices and the distant sigh of the wind.

Back inside, you rekindle the fire, the logs catching quickly, casting flickering shadows across the room. Yujin curls up beside you on the rug this time, leaning against your legs as you sit on the sofa, idly scrolling through the photos you took earlier. She looks up at you, her eyes soft in the firelight. "Today was perfect," she whispers. "Just… easy. And fun." She pauses, then a slow, wicked smile spreads across her face. "But you know," she adds as she reaches out, her hand landing purposefully high on your inner thigh, fingers starting a slow, tantalizing exploration beneath the fabric of your sweatpants. "All this relaxing… It's making me really needy. Maybe perfection needs a little… spicing up?" Her fingers tighten, finding the ridge of your hardening cock through the fabric, and her eyes hold yours, full of blatant, delicious promise.

—

You drift awake on the third morning feeling boneless and utterly drained in the best possible way. Last night… well, last night Yujin definitely collected on her promise to 'spice things up'. After her suggestive comment by the fire, things had escalated quickly, moving from teasing touches on the sofa to a full-blown, hours-long session in the massive bed that left you both sweat-soaked, marked, and completely spent. She’d ridden you like she was trying to break a world record, screaming your name, demanding you fuck her harder, deeper, finally begging, pleading for you to cum inside her again and again until neither of you could move.

Now, though? Now she sleeps beside you like a goddamn angel. Curled on her side, facing you, lips slightly parted, breathing softly, one hand tucked trustingly under her cheek. The picture of innocence. If you didn't have the faint soreness in your muscles and the lingering scent of sex clinging to the sheets (and probably both of you) as evidence, you might almost believe last night's debauchery was a particularly vivid dream. Seeing her like this, peaceful and cute after being such a demanding little demon just hours before, makes a fond, possessive warmth spread through your chest. You stay put for a while, just watching her sleep, letting the relaxed satisfaction wash over you.

The day unfolds with the same lazy rhythm as yesterday, but there's a subtle difference in Yujin's energy. While yesterday was about blissful relaxation and melting away stress, today she seems… effervescent. There's an extra bounce in her step as she pads around the house (today choosing a ridiculously soft-looking cashmere lounge set—pale blue joggers and a matching loose hoodie—that still manages to look incredibly sexy on her). She hums constantly, a cheerful, slightly tuneless sound. And she's definitely glued to her phone more than usual. You catch her sending off quick texts, a secretive little smile playing on her lips as she taps away, quickly pocketing the device whenever you glance over for too long.

You try asking casually who she's texting, but she just waves a hand dismissively, "Oh, just group chat stuff, checking in," before changing the subject with suspicious speed. It's weird, but you brush it off. Maybe she's just genuinely happy, fully recharged after a couple of days away and a night of intense sex. You spend the morning reading by the fire again, drinking coffee, occasionally getting lost in conversation, but her slightly distracted, anticipatory energy It's something you can't completely ignore.

Around midday, you both decide on lunch. Yujin takes the lead this time, announcing she wants to make a big batch of kimchi jjigae, claiming she's craving something spicy and hearty. You're happy to be her sous-chef, chopping vegetables while she handles the broth and meat. As she adds ingredients to the large pot, you notice she seems to be prepping way more than necessary for just two people. She adds nearly a whole block of tofu, a generous amount of pork belly, and practically the entire head of kimchi. "Hungry today, huh?" you comment lightly, eyeing the overflowing pot. She just grins, not looking up from stirring. "Starving! All that fresh mountain air… and, you know…" She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, referencing last night. You laugh, shaking your head. Fair enough. The rich, spicy aroma starts filling the kitchen, making your own stomach rumble.

You're setting out bowls and spoons when it happens: the sudden, sharp, totally unexpected chime of a doorbell echoes through the house.

You freeze, spoon clattering onto the counter. What the actual fuck? A doorbell? Out here? You’re miles from anywhere, accessible only by a private track and a final hike. You weren’t expecting deliveries, and certainly not visitors. Your head whips around to look at Yujin, expecting to see similar confusion or alarm on her face. Instead, she’s completely unfazed. She wipes her hands on a kitchen towel, a bright, almost smug smile spreading across her face. "Oh, good! Right on time," she says cheerfully, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. Your confusion morphs into suspicion. "On time for what? Who is that?" you ask. Yujin just pats your arm reassuringly. "Don't worry about it. I'll get it." She practically skips towards the front door, leaving you standing bewildered in the kitchen, the simmering jjigae momentarily forgotten. You follow her slowly, hesitantly, stopping in the main living area, peering towards the entranceway. Yujin swings the heavy wooden door open.

Standing on the threshold, looking impossibly small surrounded by the vast snowy landscape and bundled up in a thick, long padded coat, scarf wrapped high around her neck, and a woolly hat pulled low, is Naoi Rei.

Your brain takes a second to compute. Rei? Here? She has a large backpack slung over one shoulder and is juggling a couple of tote bags, her cheeks flushed bright pink from the biting cold. She looks exhausted and slightly grumpy. "Ugh, Yujin!" she complains immediately, voice muffled by the scarf. "It's freezing out here! And that hike was no joke. Are you trying to kill me?" Yujin just laughs, stepping aside to let her in. "You made it! I was starting to worry." She pulls Rei into a warm hug, then playfully pinches one of her rosy cheeks. "Aw, look at you, so cute when you're grumpy." Rei grumbles something unintelligible but allows herself to be pulled inside, stamping snow off her boots.

She starts unwrapping herself from her layers, revealing slightly tousled hair and wide, expressive eyes that finally land on you standing awkwardly a few feet away.

"Hey there," she says, smiling at you like she always does, but there’s a distinct curve to her lips this time, It's a smile that seems… knowing. Different. Like she expected you to be here, like she's in on some secret you're definitely not privy to.

"Rei, hi," you manage, trying to sound casual, friendly, plastering on a polite smile while your mind races. "Didn't expect visitors. Welcome." You gesture vaguely around the luxurious space. "Nice place, huh?"

Rei nods, her eyes scanning the room with appreciation before flicking back to you. "Yeah, it's beautiful. Yujin wasn't exaggerating…" she trails off, that knowing little smile playing on her lips again.

Yujin claps her hands together. "Rei, go warm up! Bathroom's down the hall if you need it. Lunch is almost ready." Rei nods gratefully, murmuring thanks, and disappears down the hallway with her bags, leaving you alone with Yujin in the suddenly charged silence.

You turn on her immediately, keeping your tone low but urgent. "Yujin. What. The. Hell?" You stab a finger towards the hallway where Rei vanished. "Why is Rei here? This was supposed to be our week. Just us. To reconnect. What is going on?" Yujin doesn't look guilty or apologetic. She looks amused, maybe even a little triumphant. She steps closer, reaching up to smooth the front of your shirt, her touch lingering.

"Baby," she says softly. "Don't you remember the first day? At the hot spring?"

You frown. "Yeah? You were talking about… rewarding me?"

"Exactly," she confirms, her smile widening. "I told you I needed to figure out a really good way to reward you. For waiting two months, for planning this amazing trip, for… well, for being you."

Your brain is still struggling to connect the dots. "Okay…? So you invited Rei for lunch?"

Yujin lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head like you’re being adorably dense. "No, silly." She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, her gaze intense.

"Rei is the reward."

This sentence hits you like a physical blow, a jolt of memory so sharp it makes you dizzy. That night, months ago, before the tour. Both of you tipsy on wine after a date night, curled up on her sofa back in Seoul. The conversation had gotten silly, then bold. Yujin, flushed and giggling, had pinned you with a surprisingly serious look. "Hypothetically," she'd slurred slightly, "if you had to… you know… with me and one of the other girls… who would it be?" You'd tried to deflect, laughing it off, but she'd persisted, poking your chest, teasing you, her eyes full of drunken curiosity and maybe something else, something testing. "Come on! Just hypothetically! Who do you think is hot?"

Cornered, flustered, and definitely influenced by the alcohol and her relentless, playful interrogation, you finally mumbled something about how, hypothetically, you thought Rei had this unique mix… she was adorably cute, almost a doll with her cheeks and mannerisms, but there was also something undeniably sexy about her, a hidden heat beneath the surface.

"Rei?" Yujin had repeated, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise, before a slow, considering smile spread across her face. "Interesting…" The conversation had moved on quickly after that, dissolving into more drunken kisses, and you'd completely forgotten about it. Until now. Holy shit. Yujin remembered. She actually fucking remembered that drunken, hypothetical confession and somehow, somehow, she'd made it real. Standing here, in this secluded mountain paradise, she'd arranged for Naoi Rei—cute, adorably hot Rei—to show up as your 'reward'. The sheer audacity, the implications… your mind reels, struggling to process it.

And then, overriding the shock, comes a powerful, undeniable physical reaction. Heat floods your groin, your dick instantly surging against the inside of your jeans, growing thick and hard at the mind-blowing possibility Yujin just dropped into your lap. Rei. Yujin. Together. Your reward. Holy fuck.

You stare at Yujin, the kimchi jjigae bubbling forgotten on the stove behind her, the rich scent suddenly secondary to the absolute bombshell she just dropped. Your dick is throbbing insistently against your zipper, a physical testament to how quickly your body accepted this insane premise, even while your brain struggles to catch up. "Are you fucking serious right now, Yujin?" you finally manage. She doesn't flinch. Her smile remains firmly in place, smug and utterly confident. "Completely serious, baby," she confirms, reaching out to trail a finger down your chest, her touch electric. "Think of it as… a very special welcome home present. For both of us." You shake your head, trying to clear it. "But… Rei? Does she know? I mean, what did you tell her? Did she just… agree to show up here and be my 'reward'?"

The idea sounds ludicrous even as you say it. Yujin lets out a low chuckle, a throaty sound that sends another jolt straight south. "Let's just say Rei is… adventurous. And maybe a little curious about certain things." She leans closer again, eyes sparkling with wicked delight. "And maybe she trusts me. Give her a couple of glasses of wine with lunch," she murmurs conspiratorially, tapping your chest lightly. "You might be surprised what our little Rei agrees to." Your mind races. Open-minded? Curious? This is Naoi Rei, the group's seemingly sweet, slightly shy Japanese member. The image clashes wildly with what Yujin is implying.

"And you think…" you swallow, still grappling with the reality of it, "...you think I'll like this?" Yujin raises an eyebrow, her expression playful but challenging.

"Do you?" she counters, turning the question back on you, her gaze flicking down pointedly towards the noticeable bulge in your jeans before meeting your eyes again. Fuck. She knows she has you. The shock is fading, replaced by raw, undeniable arousal. The memory of that drunken confession, the image of Rei—cute face, unexpectedly hot body— joining you and Yujin… it’s becoming terrifyingly appealing. "...I guess we'll find out, won't we?" you finally concede.

Yujin's triumphant smile tells you that was the answer she wanted.

Right on cue, Rei reappears, padding softly back into the living area. She’s ditched the heavy coat and layers, now wearing a simple pair of black sweatpants and a slightly oversized, fluffy pink hoodie that makes her look incredibly soft and approachable, almost negating the knowing glint you keep seeing in her eyes. "Wow, smells amazing, Unnie!" she exclaims, sniffing the air dramatically as she approaches the kitchen. Yujin immediately switches back into hostess mode. "Right? Come on, it's ready. Let's eat before it gets cold." The three of you gather around the dining table, ladling generous portions of the steaming, vibrant red stew into bowls.

Lunch is… surreal.

On the surface, it's perfectly normal. Polite conversation flows easily. Rei talks more about her journey—a series of train rides and then a slightly confusing taxi drop-off where Yujin's detailed instructions for the final hike were apparently crucial. Yujin fills her in on your first couple of days, describing the house and the surroundings with enthusiasm. They chat about mutual friends, upcoming schedules (vaguely, avoiding specifics), and the food.

But underneath the mundane chatter, there’s a shared awareness; at least between you and Yujin, and you strongly suspect Rei too—of the real reason she's here. You catch Yujin sending subtle glances towards Rei, then flicking her eyes towards you with a tiny smirk. Rei, while mostly interacting with Yujin, occasionally directs comments or questions at you, her smile friendly but still holding that hint of something… more. Shy curiosity? Playful anticipation? You can’t quite read it, and the ambiguity is driving you crazy. You focus on eating the delicious jjigae, the spiciness a welcome distraction, though you make sure to pour Rei a generous glass of the red wine left over from last night, remembering Yujin's suggestion. Rei accepts it with a grateful smile, taking a healthy sip.

"Seriously, Yujin-unnie," Rei says between mouthfuls, looking around the luxurious space again, "this place is incredible. Getting here was hell, honestly, that taxi driver looked so lost, and the hike! But wow." She shakes her head in amazement. "I can only say that I am happy to have been invited."

Yujin beams. "Told you it was worth it! And we haven't even shown you the best parts yet. Wait till you see the hot spring."

Rei's eyes light up instantly, just like Yujin predicted. "Yes! You kept talking about it on the phone! Is it really that amazing?" Yujin leans forward slightly, her tone dropping conspiratorially, though she directs the comment mostly towards Rei, she makes sure to catch your eye too. "Oh, it's the best part. Especially… after dark." Rei giggles, taking another sip of her wine, her cheeks slightly flushed now—maybe from the spice, maybe the alcohol, maybe something else entirely.

After lunch, with the dishes cleared away (Yujin insisting you all leave them for later), Yujin suggests showing Rei the stunning view you discovered yesterday. You all bundle up again and head outside. Rei is instantly enchanted by the vast, snowy landscape, gasping at the panoramic view from the ridge. She pulls out her phone, snapping dozens of pictures, posing playfully for Yujin, and even asking you, with a slightly shy smile, if you could take a few of her with the mountains in the background. You oblige, trying to act normal as you direct her slightly, acutely aware of Yujin watching you both with keen interest. Rei loves the quiet, the crisp air, the sheer beauty of it all, her earlier grumpiness completely vanished, replaced by wide-eyed wonder.

Back inside, shedding the cold gear feels even better this time. The warmth of the house, the lingering smell of kimchi and woodsmoke, feels incredibly welcoming. "Coffee?" Yujin suggests. "Or more hot chocolate? Need to warm up properly." You opt for coffee, while Rei eagerly accepts another hot chocolate. You settle back into the living area, the energy shifting slightly now. The exploration is done, lunch is finished. The unspoken 'agenda' for the afternoon seems to loom closer. Yujin strategically steers the conversation towards more personal topics, asking Rei about her family, reminiscing about funny trainee stories, creating a relaxed, intimate atmosphere. Rei seems to visibly unwind, laughing easily, her initial shyness fading further, helped along perhaps by another small glass of wine Yujin casually tops up for her.

Eventually, Yujin stretches languidly on the sofa, catching your eye. "Well," she announces. "I think it's officially hot spring time. Before the sun goes down completely." Rei perks up immediately. "Yes! Finally!"

Yujin grins and pushes herself off the sofa. "Okay, you two wait here. I'll grab the towels. Need to change into something more appropriate first." She winks at you before disappearing towards the bedroom wing. Rei shifts slightly on her seat, suddenly looking a little nervous again now that the moment is here. She avoids your gaze for a second, taking a sudden interest in the pattern on her empty hot chocolate mug. Before the silence can become awkward, Yujin returns, carrying a stack of fluffy white towels.

And she's changed. Gone is the cozy cashmere set. Instead, she’s wearing a sleek, black one-piece swimsuit. It’s one you absolutely love—high-cut on the legs, showing off the curve of her hips and length of her thighs, with a plunging neckline held together by daring crisscross straps that frame her cleavage perfectly. It emphasizes her lean strength, her dancer’s body, radiating confidence and pure sex appeal. She looks incredible, and she knows it. "Your turn, Rei," Yujin prompts gently, tossing her a towel. Rei takes a deep breath, nods quickly, and scurries off towards the guest room Yujin must have prepared for her.

You wait, heart pounding a little faster now.

This is it.

The 'reward' is about to be fully revealed.

Yujin comes over to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, her breath warm against your skin. "Excited?" You just nod, unable to form words. A moment later, Rei reappears in the doorway, looking hesitant but resolute. And holy shit. She’s wearing a simple, triangle-string bikini, a soft lilac color that contrasts beautifully with her skin tone. And Yujin wasn't kidding about her being 'open-minded' or maybe just incredibly trusting. Because the bikini reveals everything. Just like Yujin, Rei possesses that surprising idol duality: the cute, almost cherubic face paired with a body that is unexpectedly, devastatingly curvy and womanly. She is as thick as Yujin, maybe even slightly more so in certain places. Her hips flare generously from a trim waist, her thighs are full and strong, touching voluptuously at the top. Her stomach is soft but toned. And her breasts, fuller than Yujin’s, spill enticingly from the small lilac triangles, looking incredibly soft and heavy.

It's a stunning contrast—the sweet, almost shy face atop a figure that screams pure, unadulterated sex. She nervously adjusts the string at her hip, refusing to meet your eyes directly, a becoming blush staining her cheeks and spreading down her neck towards those impressive breasts. Yujin beams at her encouragingly. "See? You look amazing, Rei!" Rei mumbles a thank you, still looking anywhere but at you. But you see it all.

The whole reward, unwrapped and standing nervously before you. Yujin is practically vibrating with a smug 'I told you so' energy beside her in that killer black one-piece.

Right, if they're dressed for the water, lingering in sweatpants feels wrong. "Okay, okay, give me two seconds," you say, holding up a hand. "Need to change into something more appropriate myself." You jog back towards the bedroom, quickly shuck off your sweatpants, pulling on a pair of comfortable swim shorts instead. You glance in the mirror—shirtless, shorts, feeling ready. You head back out, finding Yujin has efficiently detoured via the kitchen counter where the wine was chilling. She now has the opened bottle in one hand, three stemmed glasses held expertly by their bases in the other. She nods approvingly at your attire change. "Perfect timing. Let's go."

The three of you head out onto the deck together this time. Yujin leads the way carefully with her fragile cargo, you follow with the towels slung over your shoulder, and Rei walks beside you, hugging herself slightly against the sudden blast of cold air on her mostly bare skin. "Woah! Okay, definitely cold out here!" Rei exclaims, teeth chattering slightly. "Get in, get in!" Yujin urges, already heading for the steps.

You all descend into the steaming water, the intense heat a blissful shock after the cold. Rei lets out a long, audible sigh of pure pleasure as she sinks gratefully into the warmth, her eyes widening as she takes in the surroundings properly—the steam rising into the twilight sky, the snow-dusted landscape stretching out around you, the luxurious feel of the smooth stone beneath the water. "Okay, wow," she breathes, looking genuinely impressed. "This hot spring is… seriously incredible, Unnie." She seems to visibly relax almost instantly, the tension melting from her posture as the heat works its magic.

Yujin beams, clearly pleased. "Told you!" She wades over to a built-in underwater ledge, carefully setting down the glasses before pouring a generous amount of red wine into each. She deliberately settles onto the ledge right next to Rei, their bare shoulders almost touching, before handing her a glass and then passing one over to you. "To relaxing properly," Yujin declares, raising her glass. You and Rei echo the sentiment, clinking glasses gently. The wine tastes good, warming you from the inside as the water warms you from the outside. As you sip, you watch the dynamic between the two girls. Yujin seems completely at ease, leaning back, swirling her wine, while Rei, though clearly more relaxed now, still seems slightly hyper-aware, occasionally glancing nervously at Yujin, then at you. The wine definitely helps, though. After a few more sips, Rei's posture loosens further, a genuine smile playing on her lips as she watches the steam curl upwards.

"Seriously though," Rei says after a comfortable silence, looking between you and Yujin. "Thank you both. For… well, for inviting me. Or letting me crash, whichever." She takes another sip of wine. "This place is amazing. I think I really needed this too, after everything." Yujin reaches over, playfully bumping Rei's shoulder. "Hey, all the credit for this genius idea goes to this one," she says, nodding towards you with an appreciative smile. "He organized the whole amazing surprise trip for me." She turns her attention back to Rei, her expression softening. She starts gently playing with the ends of Rei's wet hair where it floats on the water's surface, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. "You just relax, princess," Yujin murmurs, the pet name slipping out naturally. "You deserve it just as much after that crazy tour." Rei ducks her head slightly at the pet name, a faint blush rising on her cheeks, but she smiles, clearly not minding the affectionate term or the casual touch.

Yujin continues to hypnotically twist a lock of Rei's dark hair around her finger, her gaze fixed on Rei before suddenly looking directly at you. "Isn't she lovely?" Yujin asks, her voice soft, almost dreamy, but the question is pointed, demanding your participation. "Just adorable, right?"

You meet Yujin's gaze, then let your eyes drift over Rei; the cute face, flushed slightly now from the heat and wine, the surprisingly voluptuous body half-submerged in the steaming water, the wet hair clinging to her neck. Yujin isn't wrong. "Yeah," you agree, your voice coming out slightly rougher than intended. "She is. Very pretty." Rei's blush deepens instantly at your direct compliment. She looks down into her wine glass, then glances up at you quickly through her lashes. "Thank you..." she murmurs shyly, "...really."

Before Rei can look away completely, Yujin leans in suddenly, tilting her head. "So cute I could just eat you up!" she exclaims, and gives Rei's cheek a quick, playful nip with her teeth. It’s not hard, more of an affectionate nibble, but it’s startlingly intimate, fueled perhaps by the wine and the charged atmosphere.

Rei lets out a surprised little yelp, her eyes flying wide as she instinctively touches her cheek, looking at Yujin with a mixture of shock and amusement. Yujin just throws her head back and laughs, clearly enjoying Rei's flustered reaction. Rei swats playfully at Yujin's arm, giggling despite herself.

Yeah, the wine is definitely working its magic, alongside the simmering heat that has little to do with the water temperature. Yujin, sensing the shift, leans back against the stone ledge, swirling the wine in her glass, her eyes alight with mischief. She tops up Rei's glass, then yours, her movements fluid and deliberate. "We need to rearrange," Yujin announces suddenly, her gaze sweeping over the current seating arrangement. "Why are we sitting all spread out? This is supposed to be cozy." She looks pointedly at Rei. "Come on, princess, let's go flank our generous host. Make him feel appreciated." Rei hesitates for only a second before nodding, a tipsy giggle escaping her lips. "Okay, Unnie."

They both carefully maneuver through the water, splashing slightly, until they're positioned much closer to you. Yujin settles on one side, hip bumping yours companionably under the water, while Rei takes the spot directly opposite, close enough now that her knees occasionally brush yours. The proximity immediately cranks up the intensity, the steam trapping the scent of wine, chlorine, and their warm skin.

"You know," Yujin begins conversationally, though her tone is laced with intent, reaching out to gently stroke Rei’s wet shoulder, letting her fingers linger. "When I first texted you, Rei... floated the crazy idea of you maybe, possibly, joining us up here..." She pauses for dramatic effect, glancing at you. "This little one," she gestures towards Rei with her glass, "didn't even ask questions. No hesitation. Just texted back 'YES!' in all caps immediately." Yujin chuckles, shaking her head. "Seems someone was very eager for a little mountain getaway."

Rei splutters, splashing Yujin playfully. "Unnie! It wasn't exactly like that! You made it sound really nice..." Yujin just raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Mmmhmm. And," she continues, leaning closer to Rei, her tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper loud enough for you to easily hear, "you should have seen her face later, when I called her. When I finally told her the little detail about how our host here," she nods towards you, "specifically mentioned finding a certain Naoi Rei 'adorably hot' that one time." Rei's face flames crimson, and she tries to hide behind her wine glass, muttering denials, but Yujin barrels on, clearly enjoying this. "She practically glowed, didn't you, princess? Couldn't stop smiling." Yujin winks at you over Rei's head.

"And don't even get me started," Yujin adds, turning back to Rei, "on how much you loved our little late-night debriefs during the tour. My very detailed... 'reports from the field'." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, making Rei groan and hide her face further. Yujin looks back at you, grinning. "Standard girl talk, you know. Just sharing... experiences." The implication hangs in the air: Yujin explicitly telling Rei details about your sex life. You decide to engage directly, turning your attention fully to Rei, whose blush now extends down her neck, disappearing into the water near the top of her lilac bikini.

"Is that true, Rei?" you ask, keeping your voice level, curious. "You enjoyed Yujin's... 'girl talk'?" Rei lowers her glass slowly, her eyes darting between you and Yujin. She takes a deep breath, seeming to gather her courage, fueled by the wine. "Well..." she starts, voice a little shaky but holding your gaze. "Unnie... she tells very vivid stories." A small, nervous smile plays on her lips. "It was... interesting. Hearing about... things." It's a confirmation, albeit a slightly flustered one. You can see her chest rising and falling a little faster now, her nipples clearly pebbled beneath the thin bikini fabric; maybe the cooling air hitting the wet fabric, maybe arousal, likely both.

Yujin laughs triumphantly. "Interesting? Oh, please! Admit it!" She nudges Rei again. "I bet you were lying there in your bunk after those calls, wide awake, picturing it all, huh? Imagining it was you underneath him instead of me?" She gestures towards you with a blatant lack of subtlety. "Picturing his hands on you, his mouth…?"

"Unnie! Stop it!" Rei squeals, splashing Yujin again, but there's no real heat behind it, only embarrassed giggling. She looks quickly at you, her eyes wide, then away again. "Maybe a little!" she finally admits, her tone muffled as she tries to hide her smile against her shoulder. "But it was your fault! Telling me all those things right before I was trying to sleep… it wasn't fair!" Even in her denial, there's an undertone of confession.

You can almost picture it: Rei, alone in her hotel room, listening to Yujin's explicit tales, her imagination running wild. The thought makes the pressure in your shorts almost painful. Yujin seems to sense Rei's flustered state, her arousal mixed with embarrassment. She assesses the situation, then pats the water beside you, or rather, directly over your submerged thighs. "You look uncomfortable all squished over there, princess," she says soothingly, though her eyes dance with calculation. "Why don't you come sit over here? On his lap. Much more comfortable, I bet."

Rei freezes, her eyes snapping towards the spot Yujin indicated—your lap. She looks at Yujin, then her wide, uncertain eyes land on you. She bites her lip, seeming torn between desire and nervousness. "Is... is that okay?" she asks you directly. Your heart hammers. This is a major step, orchestrated by Yujin but requiring Rei's explicit consent and action. You nod slowly, patting your thigh through the water as an invitation. "Yeah, sure. If you want to." Holding your breath, you watch as Rei carefully pushes herself off the ledge, maneuvering through the water towards you. She moves hesitantly at first, then with more purpose, finally positioning herself directly in front of you before slowly, carefully, lowering herself onto your lap, facing you.

Her wet skin slides against yours, her bikini bottom against your swim shorts. The initial contact is electric. You feel the surprising weight of her, the softness of her thighs pressing against yours, her stomach against your chest. Her arms instinctively come up to rest lightly on your shoulders for balance. She feels impossibly soft, warm, and undeniably real. You carefully bring your hands up, resting them gently on her waist, spanning the soft skin above the low-cut bikini bottoms. You feel her sharp intake of breath at your touch, her whole body tensing for a second before she seems to consciously relax, sinking slightly heavier onto you. Tentatively, her hands slide down from your shoulders to cover yours where they rest on her waist, her fingers intertwining with yours or maybe just gently massaging the back of your hands, a silent acceptance, even an encouragement, of your touch.

Yujin watches this entire transaction with a look of intense satisfaction, like a master puppeteer admiring her work. She takes a long, slow sip of her wine, letting the moment settle. "You know," she says eventually, dangerously casual, though her eyes gleam, "this reminds me..." She looks from Rei, now settled on your lap, back to you. "Way back, before you and I were even a thing..." Her gaze drifts back to Rei, who seems to freeze slightly at Yujin's tone. "...I used to help Rei relax just like this sometimes." Rei's eyes widen slightly, but she doesn't deny it. "Remember those nights, princess?" Yujin continues softly, her voice intimate. "After a stressful practice? You'd come over, curl up on my lap just like this..." Yujin pauses, letting the image sink in, "...and I'd help you out downstairs. With my fingers."

Fuck.

Picturing Yujin—your Yujin—with her fingers buried inside Rei, Rei sitting on her lap, moaning… holy fuck. Hearing it spoken so casually, so possessively, makes your cock instantly strain against the confines of your shorts, becoming painfully, throbbingly hard beneath Rei's oblivious weight.

Rei surely must feel it now.

Yujin leans closer to Rei, ignoring your obvious physical reaction for the moment, focusing entirely on her friend now trapped on your lap, pinned by the memory and the present situation. "You miss that feeling, don't you?" Yujin probes gently. "Having someone's fingers teasing you just right? Making you come apart..." Rei trembles slightly, unable to meet Yujin's intense gaze. A tiny whimper escapes her lips. She manages a shaky, almost imperceptible nod, her eyes wide and glazed now with a mixture of memory, wine, and burgeoning need. "Yes..." she whispers. Yujin turns her triumphant gaze towards you, her eyes gleaming with manipulative delight and shared arousal. "Well?" she prompts, nodding towards Rei. "What are you waiting for? She clearly misses being touched. You should do it." Her voice is a command wrapped in suggestion. "Touch her." You look down at Rei, her face now tilted slightly upwards towards you, her lips parted, breathing shallowly. You can definitely feel your erection pressing insistently against the juncture of her thighs through the thin layers of your shorts and her bikini bottom.

"Rei?" you ask. "Do you want me to?" Rei's eyes flutter briefly, then focus on yours, dark pools of undeniable heat and pleading. She bites her already swollen lower lip. "Yes..." she breathes, the word shaky but firm. "Please... it would be... great." She leans slightly closer, her warm breath ghosting your cheek, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Unnie... Yujin said you're really good," she confesses, the final piece clicking into place, confirming the depth of their prior conversations. "With your fingers..." The invitation, the endorsement, the explicit permission hangs in the steamy air between you.

Rei's breathy consent, the confirmation that Yujin has already sung your praises ("good with your fingers"), hangs in the steam-filled air like an electric charge. Her eyes are locked on yours, wide and dark with a potent mix of wine, heat, and blatant, pleading need. She's heavy on your lap, the soft weight of her pressing down against your throbbing erection. There's no room for doubt, no space for hesitation now.

This is happening.

Your hand, still resting possessively on her waist, slides lower, fingers trailing over the smooth, wet skin revealed by the high-cut leg of her lilac bikini bottom. You feel her shiver beneath your touch, a full-body tremor that has nothing to do with cold. Your thumb traces the delicate line where the fabric meets her skin, right at the crease of her thigh. She lets out a tiny, sharp gasp, her fingers tightening instinctively on your hands where they still cover yours. Taking that as further encouragement, you carefully hook a finger under the thin, stretchy fabric of her bikini bottom, pulling it gently to the side. The movement reveals her completely beneath the water's surface: glimpses of soft folds, glistening pink flesh, looking impossibly vulnerable and inviting.

With painstaking slowness, you slide one finger forward, finding her entrance. She gasps again, louder this time, her head tipping back against your shoulder as your fingertip breaches her heat. Fuck, she feels incredible. Tight, velvety, impossibly hot. You push slightly deeper, feeling her inner muscles clench around your finger reflexively. "Mmmph," a soft, sweet moan escapes her lips, muffled against your skin. It’s the sound of pure, unguarded pleasure, and it sends another jolt straight to your already painfully hard cock. You add a second finger, sliding it in alongside the first, stretching her slightly. She whimpers, hips lifting instinctively off your lap for a second before settling back down, accommodating your intrusion. You start to move your fingers, a slow, exploratory rhythm, curling them slightly, searching, learning the feel of her. Her answering moans become less inhibited, soft sighs and sweet cries mixing with the gentle bubbling of the hot spring.

As you focus on exploring Rei's wet pussy, Yujin leans back against the stone edge beside you, watching the scene unfold with an unnervingly calm, intensely focused expression, like a scientist observing a fascinating experiment—albeit a scientist who is clearly getting turned on by the results. Her own breathing is slightly faster, her lips slightly parted, her eyes gleaming in the dim light. She takes a slow sip of wine, then begins to speak, her tone a low, seductive purr that cuts through the steamy air, deliberately amplifying the intimacy of the moment. "Mmm, listen to that sound," she murmurs, her gaze fixed on Rei's face, which is now flushed and contorted in pleasure. "She likes that, doesn't she, princess?" Yujin doesn't wait for an answer, her eyes flicking down to where your hand is working beneath the water, then up to meet your gaze.

"You know," she continues, "when I finally told her the full plan… not just that she was visiting, but that she was the main event..." Yujin lets the phrase hang in the air, savoring it. "...the official 'reward' for our very patient host here…" She smiles slowly. "...she practically melted right there on the phone. Couldn't stop asking questions. So excited, weren't you, Rei?" Rei just moans again in response, burying her face against your neck now, unable or unwilling to speak, lost in the sensations your fingers are creating.

Yujin chuckles softly, knowingly. "And she loved the idea… didn't you, baby?" she directs at Rei's hidden face, before looking back at you. "The idea of just… letting go for a week. Being taken care of. Being pampered, obviously, but also… being good." The word choice is deliberate, loaded. "Being obedient. She admitted she's fantasized about it… about submitting. Just handing over control and being told what to do, how to please." Yujin pauses, letting the implications sink in, her own arousal evident now in the slight flush on her cheeks and the undisguised heat in her voice. "So that's the deal," she declares, her tone becoming firm, almost business-like, yet still dripping with seduction. "For the rest of the week." She reaches out, trailing cool fingers across your bare shoulder, before gesturing between herself and Rei. "She's yours. Completely. We're yours." Her eyes lock with yours, intense and serious beneath the playful facade. "Anything you want. Any fantasy, any desire… consider it done. No limits, no questions asked. Our only job is to make you happy… and to take whatever you decide you want to give us." The sheer possessiveness in her tone, the explicit handover of control, the promise of absolute submission from both of them… it hits you like a drug. You feel your own cock pulse violently against Rei's backside, an involuntary throb of pure, unadulterated lust and power.

Rei certainly feels it. She gasps, her body going momentarily rigid against yours as your erection jerks beneath her. Her head snaps up from your shoulder, her eyes wide and glazed, looking at you with a mixture of shock and raw, escalating horniness. She knows exactly how turned on you are, pressed right up against her ass. And hearing Yujin lay out the terms, describing Rei's own supposed desire for submission while you're actively pleasuring her… it's clearly pushing Rei closer to the edge too. Her hips begin to move more deliberately against your fingers now, a small, instinctive grinding motion seeking more pressure, more friction. Her sweet moans are becoming louder, less inhibited, punctuated by sharp, breathy gasps. She clutches your arms tighter, her nails digging in slightly, not painfully, but with undeniable urgency.

The combination of Yujin's explicit, arousing words painting a picture of the week ahead, and the feel of Rei squirming and moaning on your lap, her tight heat clenching around your fingers, is making you dizzy with lust. You focus back on your task, increasing the pressure, finding a spot deep inside that makes Rei cry out, a high, keening sound that echoes off the water. Yujin watches, her lips curled into a satisfied smirk, her own body radiating waves of heat.

The night is dark now, the stars brilliant overhead, the steam swirling around the three of you in a cocoon of heat, wine, and rapidly escalating desire. Your fingers move faster inside Rei's slick pussy, finding a rhythm that makes her gasp and buck against your hand. She's incredibly responsive, her tightness clenching around you with every inward stroke, her wetness making your movements slick and easy. You alternate between deep, curling motions and circling pressure against that sensitive spot just inside her entrance, while your thumb finds her clit through the water, rubbing firmly, relentlessly.

Rei is completely lost in sensation now, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, sweet, helpless moans tumbling from her lips with increasing frequency. "Oh god… oh fuck… yes, right there," she gasps. "Please… please don't stop… fuck, I'm close… so close…" Her fingers dig into your shoulders, seeking purchase as her body trembles uncontrollably on your lap. Yujin watches, leaning forward slightly now. Her eyes are dark, pupils dilated, fixed on Rei's writhing form and your relentless fingers. "That's it," Yujin breathes. "Listen to her whimper… she needs it so bad. Make her come apart for us, baby. Make my little princess fucking scream all over your hand."

Yujin's crude encouragement, combined with Rei's desperate pleas, pushes your own excitement higher. You lean down, bringing your mouth close to Rei's ear, your lips brushing the sensitive shell. "You feel that, Rei?" you whisper. "How close you are? You're going to cum for me now. Right now. Let go. Fucking cum for me." Your words, low and demanding, seem to sever her last thread of control. A choked sob breaks from her throat. Her entire body goes rigid, tensing violently against you. Her inner muscles clench down hard around your fingers in a series of rapid, powerful pulses. A high-pitched, strangled cry rips from her lungs as her orgasm crashes over her, intense and overwhelming. She convulses on your lap, hips bucking spasmodically against your hand, riding out the waves of pleasure, completely undone. You hold her steady, keeping your fingers buried inside her, feeling the throbbing aftermath of her release, the hot slickness coating your hand.

As her shudders begin to subside, leaving her limp and trembling against you, gasping for breath, you gently lift her chin. Her eyes are unfocused, glazed with bliss, her face flushed a deep crimson, lips swollen and kiss-bruised looking. You capture her mouth with yours, a deep, possessive kiss, tasting the wine and her own unique flavor, a hint of salt from a tear of pleasure that escaped. You slide your tongue against hers, dominating the kiss for a moment before pulling back slightly, just enough to gently bite her plush lower lip, holding it for a second between your teeth. She whimpers softly at the small sting of pleasant pain. "Good girl," you murmur against her lips. "Such a good girl for me."

She just stares up at you, dazed and utterly pliant. You release her lip, letting your gaze drift from Rei's blissed-out face over to Yujin, who is watching you both with an intensely aroused, almost predatory gleam in her eyes. "Fuck," you breathe out, the word rough. "Seeing you like this," you nod towards Rei, still trembling slightly on your lap, "and hearing you talk like that," you glance at Yujin, acknowledging her filthy commentary and the power dynamic she established, "...you're both making me so fucking horny right now, it actually hurts."

The proof is undeniable, straining painfully against the inside of your swim shorts, pressed firmly against Rei’s soft backside. Action feels necessary, immediate. You gently take Rei's wrist, lifting her hand from your shoulder where it had been clutching tightly. Still holding her gaze, you guide her hand down through the warm water, pressing her palm flat against the thick, hard ridge of your erection straining beneath the damp fabric of your shorts. Her eyes fly wide open as her fingers make contact, a soft gasp escaping her lips. It takes her a second to process, then her fingers tentatively curl, closing around your length through the material. Even muffled by the fabric, the size and sheer hardness is obvious.

Her eyes widen further in genuine surprise, maybe even a little intimidation, before fascination takes over. Her fingers tighten, giving you an experimental squeeze, testing the feel of you. You watch her face, see the flicker of awe mixed with burgeoning, greedy curiosity. "You want this, Rei?" you ask, making sure Yujin can hear too. You push your hips forward slightly, letting Rei feel the full extent of your hardness pulsing against her palm. "Feel how hard you both make me?" Rei's breath hitches. She looks from her hand gripping your cock, up to your eyes, then maybe a quick, uncertain glance towards Yujin who nods almost imperceptibly, giving silent permission. Rei turns back to you, her eyes dark with newfound determination and undeniable lust. "Yes," she breathes. "God, yes… very much…"

Her confirmation is all you need. "Okay," you say softly, carefully easing Rei off your lap, helping her settle onto the submerged ledge beside where Yujin sits. Rei seems reluctant to let go, her eyes fixed on your groin. You stand up slightly in the hot water, ignoring the sudden rush of cooler air on your upper body, and quickly peel off your wet swim shorts, tossing them carelessly on the deck.

The second your cock springs free—thick, long, throbbing with blood and arousal—it draws a visible reaction. Rei’s lips part with a sharp little inhale, and Yujin's gaze drops instantly, lashes lowering with heat. You step up to the stone edge, placing one foot out of the spring, bracing it wide, grounding yourself, hips tilted just slightly forward. You know what you look like right now: cock hard and hanging heavy, glistening, your whole body haloed by steam and hunger.

“Come here,” you say. “Come suck.”

They don’t hesitate.

Yujin is first to move, slicking her soaked hair back as she wades forward, her eyes fixed to the way your cock twitches at the command. Rei’s right behind, crawling through the water like it’s instinctive, like her body doesn’t even require conscious thought anymore. She settles in beside Yujin, the two of them kneeling just at the lip of the spring, hands gripping the stone edge as they lean into you.

Yujin’s lips part as she leans in, but Rei beats her to it.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, almost reverently, breath warm as it ghosts across the head of your cock. “It’s huge…” She wraps a small, wet hand around your base, unable to fully close her fingers around it, and looks up at you like she’s discovered a secret meant only for her. “You weren’t kidding, unnie,” she murmurs without breaking eye contact. “You told me he was big, but… fuck. He’s thick. It’s so… hot.”

Your cock twitches hard in her hand, veins bulging under her fingers as she strokes you slowly, getting used to the heft, the weight of you. Yujin just grins, watching her like she’s proud of a new recruit.

“Told you,” Yujin says, inching closer. Her hand joins Rei’s, wrapping around the upper half of your shaft, and the two of them begin to stroke in sync—Rei near the base, Yujin working the upper half, their small hands overlapping, warm and slick from the spring. “He’s addictive. Just wait till you taste him.”

Rei’s breath catches, and she leans in, lips brushing the tip, kissing it like she’s testing heat from a fire. Then her mouth opens and she takes just the head into her mouth, slow, wide, soft lips forming a seal around your swollen tip. The warmth of her mouth makes your hips flex, your hands curling into fists at your sides. She lets out a soft, muffled moan, cheeks hollowing as she sinks down a little deeper.

Yujin doesn’t wait her turn—her mouth finds your balls, her tongue tracing slow, teasing circles over the sensitive skin before pulling one into her mouth with a hum of satisfaction.

“God, fuck,” you mutter, breath catching in your throat, stomach tightening as you watch them both worship you. Rei’s head bobs slow, tentative but eager, her mouth stretching wider every time she sinks a little deeper. She drools easily, spit rolling down your cock in messy strands, painting you wet and shiny. Yujin's sucking hard now, one hand gently massaging your other ball, and the contrast—Rei’s tight little mouth above, Yujin’s skilled tongue below—makes your knees tremble.

Rei pulls off with a gasp, strings of spit clinging between her lips and your cock, her eyes wide and wild. “It barely fits,” she breathes, stroking your length with both hands now, licking her lips like she’s starving. “It’s fucking perfect. Like… thick enough to make my jaw ache.”

Yujin chuckles, leaning in to lick a long stripe up the underside of your cock from base to tip, tongue flattening against the thick vein that pulses along it. “Bet your throat stretches around him,” she says to Rei. “Let me show you how deep he goes.”

Before Rei can reply, Yujin takes over, her mouth wrapping around your cock and sliding down like she knows exactly what she’s doing—and of course, she does. She takes more in one go than Rei managed, her lips sinking halfway down your shaft in one wet, practiced glide. She moans around you, vibrations rolling up your cock, eyes fluttering shut with bliss.

“Shit, baby,” you groan, reaching down to push her damp hair off her face, watching it cling to her cheeks. “That mouth is gonna make me lose it if you keep that up.”

Rei stares, spellbound, her fingers still wrapped tight around your base. “You’re seriously deepthroating him,” she says in awe, her free hand sliding down to her own chest, palm rubbing over the swell of one breast through the soaked bikini. “That’s so hot. I want to try.”

Yujin pulls off with a slick pop, grinning up at you, her lips red and swollen. “Tag team?”

You just nod, hips twitching, cock soaked and gleaming with their spit, twitching again when Rei leans in, licking a circle around your tip before slowly sinking down again, her tongue moving like she’s mapping every inch. Yujin stays low, trailing wet kisses along your balls and inner thighs, her fingers slipping between Rei’s stroking hands to cup your base.

“God, you taste amazing,” Rei whispers, looking up at you through thick lashes, her mouth returning to your cock without waiting for an answer. Her lips part and she sinks a little deeper this time, gagging slightly but not pulling away.

You’re groaning now, hips flexing forward in short, shallow thrusts, letting your cock nudge against the back of her throat just once—just enough to make her moan around you and pull back again, gasping for air.

Yujin leans up beside her, licking the side of your shaft before pressing her cheek to Rei’s. “Good girl,” she whispers. “You’re taking him so well. Bet your pussy’s soaking just from having his cock in your mouth.”

Rei whines, rubbing her thighs together beneath the water, still bobbing slowly on your cock, her hands trembling where they grip your hips.

Your hand slides down, fingers curling under her chin, lifting her off your cock with slow, wet resistance. Her lips pop off with a breathy gasp, her eyes glazed, mouth red and glistening. She licks the spit off her bottom lip like it’s sugar.

“Let’s take it further,” you say.

And both their eyes light up—Rei’s with wonder. Yujin’s with knowing.

Rei starts sucking your cock again, her lips stretched wide around your length, face flushed, her dark lashes fluttering every time your tip presses against the soft resistance at the back of her throat. Her tiny hand cradles your balls delicately, almost reverently, fingers splayed, palm warm against the slick weight of them. She’s trembling slightly, maybe from the heat, maybe from the way her mouth is completely full of your thick cock. Either way, the image is obscene, perfect—her soft cheeks bulging, eyes watery, her petite face dwarfed by the sheer size of you.

And she’s trying. Desperately. Gagging now and then, but not pulling back. Moaning low, the vibrations wrapping around your shaft, her lips soaked with spit and determination.

Yujin crouches beside her, one hand casually braced on Rei’s shoulder, the other gently stroking through her hair, occasionally slipping down to cup the side of her face, steady her. "Look at her," she murmurs, her breath hitting your thigh as she leans in. “Such a good girl. Taking that fat cock so deep already.” Her tongue flicks across her lips, eyes gleaming with heat. “You like that, baby? You like seeing our sweet little Rei choking on your dick?”

You groan, the sound guttural, involuntary. “Fuck yes.”

The heat coils tighter in your belly as you grip Rei’s jaw gently, guiding her mouth back to your cock, and this time—this time you don’t wait for her rhythm. You move. You slide in deeper, pushing past the resistance of her lips, her tongue, the soft clamp of her throat. She makes a surprised sound, a muffled whimper as her hands clutch at your thighs, but she doesn’t pull away. Her lips seal instinctively around you again as you push, slow at first, testing how far she’ll let you in.

And then you thrust.

Harder.

Faster.

Rei’s moan turns into a wet, choking sound, tears instantly springing to the corners of her wide eyes. You watch, transfixed, as your cock stretches her jaw, disappears between her lips again and again, her throat working frantically to take you. Her small, perfect face becomes a canvas for your desire—spit streaming down her chin, cheeks flushing deep pink, eyeliner starting to smear from the pressure building behind her eyes.

Yujin’s voice snakes up beside you, dirty and low. “That’s it. Fuck her face. Use that pretty little mouth.” Her grip tightens in Rei’s hair, not yanking, just anchoring her in place. “Don’t be shy, baby. She can take it. She wants it, look at her.”

You do. Rei looks up through the blur of tears and spit, and the expression in her eyes is devastating—need, submission, that messy pride of making you this desperate, this wild. She gags again as you bottom out in her throat, but her hands don’t push you away. She stays still for it, lets you rock your hips and fuck her mouth just the way you need. Her moans are guttural now, rising every time you slide deep into her throat and hold for a breathless moment before pulling back.

You can’t stop.

Every time you draw back and see the trail of spit that clings to your cock, the glisten of it painting her lips, it makes you growl—low and hot and feral. Her jaw is working to keep up, her face messy and slick, completely ruined for you. And Yujin—Yujin fucking loves it. Her hand strokes Rei’s cheek while her other dips between Rei’s legs, unseen beneath the bubbling surface of the water, but the sharp little gasps that break free between chokes tell you she’s not just comforting her.

“You’re making her so wet,” Yujin breathes, eyes half-lidded. “She’s so horny, I can feel it. Just from getting her throat used like this. Fuck, babe. She’s so fucking into it. You feel how she moans around your cock? She’s gonna cum just from this, just from choking on you.”

That image sears into your brain. Rei on her knees, sobbing, gagging, coming with nothing but your cock down her throat and Yujin’s fingers in her soaked cunt. You fuck her mouth deeper, harder, a few short brutal thrusts that make her gurgle and spasm, her eyes rolling up slightly. She coughs and chokes, but doesn’t pull back. Her nose presses against your pelvis, breath coming in desperate little hitches between thrusts.

“God—Rei,” you groan, your hand tightening at the base of her skull, your hips still grinding forward. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Yujin presses a kiss to the crown of Rei’s head, still holding her steady, her voice soft but edged with something twisted and proud. “That’s right, princess. Take it all. Let him use you.”

Rei lets out a strangled, needy whimper as she forces her eyes to look up again, lips stretched wide, tears tracking down her cheeks now. You don’t stop. Her throat is tight around you, wet and desperate and swallowing you again and again as you fuck into her with deep, powerful strokes.

“You gonna cum down her throat?” Yujin whispers beside you, licking her lips as she watches Rei drool around your cock. “You gonna stuff her little tummy full of your cum, huh? Let her feel it flood inside her? You know she’ll swallow every drop. She’d beg for it.” She shifts closer, one hand cupping your balls with slow, teasing strokes as Rei gags again, helpless, obedient. “I’d watch. I’d rub myself raw watching you finish in her mouth.”

Your control hangs by a fucking thread. Rei is a mess beneath you now, her mouth stretched red, spit pouring, eyes swimming—but she’s not stopping. She’s moaning around your cock like she loves it, even as she chokes, even as her throat spasms.

You don’t stop. You fuck her mouth harder.

You make her take it…

Your rhythm gets brutal. The slap of your hips against Rei’s flushed face echoes off the wood deck like a metronome set to ruin. You hold her by the back of the head now, no pretense of gentleness—just raw, driving need. Her lips are red and shiny, stretched to their limit, her cheeks stained with tears and saliva, your cock disappearing into the tight heat of her throat over and over with unrelenting force. She gags again, full-body spasms racking her frame, and you still don’t stop. Her hands are gripping your thighs, nails digging in as she tries to brace herself for the next deep thrust, her tiny form jolting with every fuck-deep stroke you feed her.

And then—she looks up.

Her eyes lock on yours, glassy, wet, completely wrecked and yet still wide open.

Wanting. Needing.

That look shoots straight down your spine like a lightning bolt. Something cracks inside you, a pressure that’s been building with every choking gasp, every wet drag of her lips, and it detonates in your gut.

“Fuck—” you grunt, your hand twisting in her hair, holding her face right where you want it. “I’m gonna cum—”

Yujin gasps beside you, like she’s been waiting to hear those exact words. Her tone is ragged now, laced with lust so thick it could choke. “Yes—fuck yes, baby, cum in her mouth. Give it to her. Stuff that little throat full. She’ll swallow it all.” Her fingers are already pulling her one-piece aside, the sleek black fabric dragged across her hip so she can slide two fingers directly into the slick mess between her thighs. “Look at her. She’s ready for it. She wants every fucking drop.”

Rei makes a choked noise around your cock, a garbled moan that shudders through your shaft as her throat clenches in anticipation. Her eyes never leave yours. She knows what she’s doing to you. Your hips jerk forward, faster now, desperate, out of control. You don’t care that she’s gagging, that her body convulses every time you push deep. She’s not stopping. She wants this.

Yujin’s hand is working between her thighs now, her other hand on Rei’s head, holding her steady as you use her mouth like a cock sleeve. Her lips part on a gasp. “Cum, baby,” she whispers, voice full of filth and adoration. “Cum in her mouth. Let her taste it. Fill her up so full she has no choice but to swallow every fucking drop. She’ll do it. She’s so good. Such a good little cocksucker for us.”

That’s it. That’s the last thread gone.

Your whole body locks. You push in deep, balls slapping wet against her chin, burying yourself fully down her throat. Her nose presses flush to your pelvis, her throat a tight, spasming vice around your cock—and then you explode.

“Fuck—fuck, take it—”

Thick jets of cum shoot down her throat, your cock twitching violently with every pulse, unloading more than you thought you even had in you. Rei chokes, spasms, her throat working frantically to swallow around your cock. She moans around it, eyes rolling back slightly, face flushed and raw and so fucking obedient as she gulps every single drop you feed her.

Yujin’s watching, panting, two fingers fucking herself hard and fast as she murmurs, “That’s it, swallow it—good girl, good fucking girl, don’t waste a drop—” Her own hips are jerking against her hand, the slap of fingers on wet flesh lost under the growl of your release.

You stay buried in Rei’s mouth until the last pulse fades, your thighs trembling, your hand still knotted in her hair. When you finally pull back, a long string of spit and seed clings from her lips to your cock before snapping, falling to her chin in a viscous trail. Rei gasps for air, coughing slightly, but she swallows again, visibly, her tongue darting out to catch the last of your mess. Her lips are puffy, cheeks shiny with tears, but she looks—fucking blissed out.

Yujin’s still panting, her hand shaking as she rubs herself through the aftershocks of her own orgasm. Then she leans forward, still flushed and glowing, and reaches down with one hand, tilting Rei’s chin up gently.

“Tongue out,” Yujin says softly. “Show me.”

Rei obeys instantly, her mouth falling open, tongue extended—wet, pink, glistening with spit and cum.

Yujin moans.

She leans in, pressing her mouth to Rei’s, not a kiss—no, this is something else entirely. She sucks on Rei’s tongue, slow and dirty, her lips sealing over it, her cheeks hollowing as she drinks the remnants of your cum from Rei’s mouth like it’s her fucking reward.

Rei moans again, hands twitching in the water, her whole body visibly shuddering from the sheer intensity. When Yujin finishes, chin drooling, Rei gasps for air, looking completely ruined, yet entirely hot.

“So,” Yujin says softly against Rei’s ear, “what’d you think?” Her hand drifts up, knuckles grazing the side of Rei’s neck, fingers trailing back down the curve of her spine. “You like being used like that? Mouth full of cock, throat stuffed like a little toy?”

Rei lets out a shaky laugh, cheeks coloring deeper, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she runs her hand up your thigh, fingers grazing the inside, slow and teasing, until she’s just beneath your cock again, her palm flat against your skin, dangerously close. She glances up at you, lips still wet, and that shy-turned-hungry smile spreads across her face like she’s only just realizing how much she loved it.

“I felt… so slutty,” she admits, almost breathless. “Like I was just a thing. A plaything for you. It was…” Her fingertips slide higher, brushing your balls with delicate, lingering pressure. “It was hot.” Her eyes search yours, equal parts reverent and mischievous. “Was it good for you?”

You reach down, gently cradling her cheek in one hand, thumb brushing across her damp jaw as you lean in. She closes her eyes, tilting into the touch. You press a kiss to her forehead, slow and warm. “It was perfect,” you murmur.

Then she feels it—your cock, still hard, still heavy, throbbing just inches from her face.

You don’t need to say it.

Yujin’s already watching the twitch of your shaft, the tension in your body, the way your hips are still subtly tilted forward like you’re fighting not to grind against Rei’s hand. “Mmm,” she hums, lips brushing Rei’s shoulder. “Still so hard… Guess you’re not done with us yet, huh?” She meets your eyes with a wicked grin. “You still have a lot of cum to give, don’t you?”

You nod slowly, jaw tight, blood still pumping hot with need.

“Then come on,” Yujin says, standing up and pulling Rei with her, water cascading down both their bodies in glistening streams. “Inside. It’s freezing out here and I want more to fuck without slipping into the damn hot spring.”

You laugh under your breath, grabbing a towel where you left it around the hot spring. Rei stumbles slightly, still a little dazed from the throatfucking, and Yujin steadies her with one arm, pulling her close as you wrap the towel around your waist. You grab another for the girls, slinging it around their shoulders like a shared cocoon, all three of you huddled together as you hurry across the deck. The cold wind slices at your skin, but you barely feel it. The only real heat lives between your legs and in the way both of them press against you—Rei at your left side, damp hair clinging to her neck, and Yujin at your right, one hand tucked low against your back, fingers sneaking lower.

You reach the door and stumble inside, laughing as you kick it shut behind you. The warmth hits instantly, the heat from the fire wrapping around your bodies. The towel clings wetly to your thighs. You’re still dripping, still slightly shivering, but that doesn't matter because you’re already pulling them toward the bedroom, your free hand tangled in Yujin’s.

The bed swallows you as you drop back onto it, not even bothering to pull the covers back. The girls land beside you, Rei’s towel slipping off her shoulders, baring one flushed shoulder, the curve of her breast peeking out. You catch her, hand sliding behind her neck as you pull her in for a kiss. Her lips are soft and wet and still taste faintly of you. Her body presses into yours, towel loosening, the curve of her hip against your bare side.

You break the kiss and turn to Yujin, who’s already crawling up your chest like a predator, straddling your waist. You pull her down, mouth colliding with hers in something rougher, deeper. Tongues slide. Teeth graze. She moans into you, grinding her hips slowly against your stomach.

Then you pull both of them in—arms around their waists—and your mouths meet in a chaotic tangle. A triple kiss, hot and messy, your tongues brushing, lips dragging, breathing in each other’s heat. It’s clumsy in the best way—spit-slicked and uncoordinated and absolutely filthy. Rei moans softly into your mouth, then turns her head slightly and kisses Yujin, their lips pressing together in a quiet gasp, and you just watch, heart pounding, cock pulsing, as the two of them fall into each other’s mouths like they were always meant to.

“Mmh,” you murmur, reaching between them to cup Rei’s ass, giving it a slow, possessive squeeze. “Take off the swimsuits.” Your cock is already twitching in your hand, precum beading at the tip as you stroke slowly, eyes fixed on the girls as they scramble to obey.

Yujin’s already halfway out of her black one-piece, dragging the fabric over her hips with a sharp tug. She shrugs it down her shoulders and tosses it to the floor, stretching out on the bed naked and glowing, her thick thighs spread just enough to flash a teasing hint of the pink between them. Rei hesitates for a second, Then she unties her bikini top, letting her breasts fall free and heavy, after that she finally takes off her bottom.

And there she is. Fully nude. Finally.

You don’t even try to hide your reaction—your cock throbs violently in your fist at the sight. Her body is delicate, soft curves where you imagined them, her breasts, bigger than Yujin's, are fuller and rounder too, her waist tapering down to a gentle flare of hips, her pussy bare, glistening faintly with the mix of arousal and water. She flushes under your gaze, biting her lip, eyes dropping to your cock like she knows exactly what she’s done to you.

You don’t give her time to second guess.

You grab her, pulling her close, crashing your mouth to hers again. One hand grips her ass—juicy, smooth, perfect in your palm—the other sliding up to cup her breast, your thumb brushing over the pebbled nipple. She gasps into the kiss, hips jerking against yours, her chest rising sharply as you roll the nipple between your fingers.

Then Yujin groans.

“Don’t forget about me, baby!” You can feel the arousal in her voice, needier than she probably means it to sound. “You think I’m gonna just lie here and watch while you play with your new toy?”

You grin, breaking the kiss with Rei, and turn to face her.

“Impossible,” you say simply, crawling between her thighs, lining your cock up with the heat that’s practically dripping from her greedy pussy. “You’re unforgettable.”

Yujin arches into you the second your tip presses against her, her hands flying to her breasts, squeezing them together as you push inside, slow and heavy. She lets out a loud, shameless moan, her head tipping back, mouth open, one leg locking around your waist.

“Fuck—yes, that’s it—fill me up—”

You start thrusting, your rhythm fast from the start, desperate to bury yourself in that velvet heat. Her pussy grips you like it remembers, like it missed you as much as you missed it, and your breath shudders out of you as you drive in harder.

Yujin reaches for Rei, pulling her closer, guiding the girl to straddle her chest. “Come here, baby,” she whispers, mouth already open, eyes hazy. “Let me taste you too.”

Rei moans softly, hips jerking as she moves, and a second later Yujin wraps her lips around one of Rei’s breasts, sucking it deep into her mouth while she’s beneath you, spread wide and soaking wet, her thighs slick with arousal and your cock punching into her over and over in a rhythm that’s pure desperation. Her body rocks up with every thrust, tits bouncing, hands braced on Rei’s waist as she keeps her mouth locked around one perfect breast. Her lips are sealed tight around Rei’s nipple, tongue swirling and flicking with the kind of focused hunger that makes Rei gasp, her fingers tightening in Yujin’s hair, head tipped back in a dazed, helpless moan.

Your hands are gripping Yujin’s hips, pulling her down hard to meet every thrust, drowning in the soft gasps and wet sucking noises filling the air. You’re balls-deep, your cock practically dragging her moans out of her with every stroke, and she’s so fucking tight around you—like her pussy is trying to milk every ounce of cum out of your body, even though you’ve barely recovered from the last time.

“Fuck,” Yujin groans, lips slick with spit and soft pink skin as she pulls back from Rei’s chest just for a breath, then dives right back in with a growl, dragging her tongue across the other breast. “Taste so good. Don’t stop, baby.”

Rei’s thighs tremble as she shifts forward, her body flush against Yujin’s, straddling her chest while you pound into her from below. Her hand trails down, fingertips feathering along Yujin’s stomach, nails grazing lower until she finds the swollen cunt between Yujin’s thighs. You feel her touch even from where you are, your cock brushing the edge of her fingers as she slides them across Yujin’s clit in slow, deliberate circles.

Yujin’s reaction is instant.

She cries out, arching her back hard, her tits pressing up into Rei’s mouth, the sudden pulse of pleasure making her tighten around you like a fist. “Shit—yes—right there, keep going!” she gasps, grinding herself against Rei’s hand even as she tries to fuck herself harder on your cock. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—”

Rei’s breath hitches, her fingers working faster now, slipping through the flood of wetness as her thumb flicks Yujin’s clit with practiced precision. Her voice is breathless, reverent. “You’re so beautiful like this, unnie,” she whispers, eyes fixed on Yujin’s flushed face, her parted lips, the tears beading at the corners of her eyes from the intensity. “Getting fucked like this… moaning for his cock, clenching so tight… it’s making me so fucking horny.”

Yujin lets out a choked moan, her hips jerking violently between you both, your cock slamming deep as her cunt contracts around you like she’s on the edge. Her hands claw at the sheets, at Rei’s hips, her teeth grazing Rei’s nipple as she bites down lightly, overwhelmed by the dual assault of your cock pounding into her and Rei’s fingers teasing her clit with such focused intent.

“You hear that?” you growl, leaning down to press your chest to Yujin’s, your lips brushing her ear. “You’ve got her dripping just watching you get ruined on my cock.”

Yujin nods frantically, her legs spreading wider, her heels digging into the mattress. “Yeah—fuck, I can feel it—feels so fucking good—I’m gonna—”

But she doesn’t finish the sentence. Rei’s fingers are too precise, too hungry, and your pace doesn’t let up for a second. You slam into her again and again, her body jerking under yours, her cunt fluttering around you in a frantic, desperate rhythm. Rei moans softly as Yujin sucks harder on her breast, her own thighs grinding against Yujin’s stomach, every one of her senses lit on fire by the sight of her unnie breaking apart beneath you.

And still—you don’t stop.

Yujin’s body is shaking now, her moans slipping into helpless little cries that bounce off the bedroom walls, every breath stuttering through clenched teeth as your cock drills into her harder, deeper, without pause. Her eyes are half-lidded, mouth open, drool smeared on her bottom lip, and her fingers claw at the sheets like they might anchor her through the hurricane you and Rei are dragging her into. Her thighs tremble around your waist, flexing and locking every few seconds like she’s fighting off the inevitable—like her orgasm’s already coiling hard in her core, just waiting for permission to destroy her.

And you and Rei? You’re fucking relentless.

You pound into her with wild, piston-like thrusts, hips snapping forward as you bury your cock again and again in her slick, greedy pussy. She's soaked, you can feel it with every wet slap of your bodies—feel the obscene gush of her arousal coating your length, dripping down your balls. Rei hasn’t moved from between Yujin’s thighs, her fingers circling her clit with expert rhythm, her other hand groping Yujin’s tits, squeezing and slapping them playfully, watching the way they bounce with each thrust you give her. Her eyes are wide with hunger, her mouth parted as she pants against Yujin’s stomach.

Yujin screams through her teeth, her voice raw. “Fuck—fuck—I’m close—so fucking close—”

You lean in, grabbing her by the jaw, making her look at you. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby?” you snarl, grinding your hips deep. “You gonna cum all over my cock like a good fucking slut?”

Rei's giggle is high and bright, but there’s a filthy edge to it, a manic kind of thrill in her tone as she presses harder against Yujin’s clit. “She is, she’s so close,” Rei coos, licking her fingers to taste Yunjin's juices and then returning the relentless assault. “Look at her. Fucking wrecked. She’s gonna explode just from us using her. You gonna cum, unnie?” Her fingers slap Yujin’s clit once, a sharp flick that makes her jolt, back arching off the bed. “You gonna make a mess for us?”

“Say it,” you growl, fucking her harder. “Say it, cum for me.”

“Do it, slut,” Rei spits, her tone suddenly darker, filthier. “Cum like the whore you are. You love this, don’t you? Getting fucked like a bitch in heat. Getting used by your dongsaeng and your man like a cheap little cumrag.”

Yujin’s eyes flutter back in her head, a long, trembling moan spilling from her throat. “Yes—yes—I’m your fucking whore——I don’t care, just don’t stop—please, don’t stop—”

Rei's dirty talk turns savage, insatiable, you can hardly recognize her. “That’s right. Take it, slut. Let everyone see how much of a mess you are. Getting pounded like a dumb little toy, drooling like a dog. Bet your pussy’s gonna squirt all over the bed, huh? Gonna fucking soak us, unnie?”

“Cum for us,” you demand, breath burning through your chest as your cock slams into her again, again, again. “Fucking cum—now.”

Rei’s voice layers on top of yours, teasing, cruel, loving it. “Do it, unnie—cum on his cock like a little whore, make a fucking mess—cum—”

Yujin breaks.

She screams—no words, just pure noise, the kind that comes from deep in the gut, primal and raw—and her body locks up beneath you, thighs squeezing around your waist as her pussy spasms violently around your cock. Then it hits—hard—a sudden gush that blasts out of her, hot and wet, soaking your hips, your stomach, the sheets beneath her.

“FUCK—she’s squirting,” Rei shrieks, laughing in breathless delight, pulling her hand back to watch Yujin’s orgasm drench everything. “Oh my god, you’re squirting for us, you filthy little slut—fuck, that’s hot—”

The bed is soaked, dripping with the force of it, and still you keep fucking her, your cock driving through the spasms of her climax like you’re determined to draw every drop of pleasure out of her trembling body. Her hands are limp beside her head, fists curled into the sheets, her chest heaving with every gasping breath, her mouth slack and smiling, glowing with fucked-out bliss.

Rei's crawling up beside her now, brushing the wet hair from her face, giggling softly as she kisses her cheek. “So fucking pretty like this,” she whispers, tracing her fingers along the mess between Yujin’s thighs. “You’re perfect when you cum like that. You’re our perfect little cumslut.”

Yujin just sighs, her eyelids fluttering, her lips curling into a lazy, satisfied smile. “I love you both,” she murmurs. “So fucking much.”

Her skin glowing with sweat and afterglow, her inner thighs glistening with her own juices. Her breath comes in soft little sighs, each exhale a ripple of contentment across her flushed lips. But her eyes—they’re sharp now, glinting with a familiar spark as they shift from you to Rei. Rei’s sitting on her knees beside her, hair tousled, still giggling under her breath, clearly reveling in the chaos of Yujin's explosive orgasm, fingers tracing random shapes across the wet sheets like a girl who’s just watched her favorite fireworks show and wants it all over again.

Yujin watches her with a tilt of her head, her lips curling up slowly into something delicious. “You know…” she says in a warm voice, a little hoarse, “I think Rei might be getting a little too comfortable calling me a whore.”

That catches Rei’s attention immediately. She blinks, straightens up slightly, eyes flicking to you, then back to Yujin. “I was just… helping,” she says with mock innocence, but her smirk betrays her.

Yeah. She’s definitely not sorry.

You glance at Yujin, eyebrow raised, and she grins up at you. “Don’t you think our little baby here’s being a bit bossy? Throwing all that dirty talk around like she forgot who the real slut is?”

You chuckle, rolling your hips slowly into Yujin one last time before pulling out, your cock heavy and still hard, glistening with her juices. “I do,” you say, meeting Rei’s gaze. “Sounds like someone needs a reminder about her place.”

Rei’s expression falters for just a second—her breath catches, her thighs clench subtly—and then her tongue darts out across her bottom lip.

“W-what do you mean?”

Yujin hums, her hand reaching out to stroke Rei’s cheek. “It means, baby girl, you forgot that I’m your unnie,” she says sweetly. “And you don’t get to call me names like that unless we tell you to.” Her fingers trail down to Rei’s lips, thumb brushing her lower one. “So I think it’s time you show a little respect, don’t you?”

You nod, shifting on the bed, your hand tangling in Rei’s hair. “Start by cleaning her up,” you say, firm and low. “That pussy’s a mess because of you. Lick her clean. Use that filthy little mouth for something useful.”

Rei hesitates for half a beat. Then, slowly, deliberately, she crawls down Yujin’s body, eyes never leaving yours. She settles between her unnie’s thighs, her hands sliding under Yujin’s knees to hold her open, and lowers her face.

The second her tongue flicks out and brushes across Yujin’s oversensitive clit, Yujin’s entire body jerks.

“Fuck—” she hisses, hips twitching violently. “Oh my god—so sensitive—”

But she doesn’t stop her. In fact, her legs fall wider apart, trembling slightly, breath ragged. Rei’s tongue moves slowly, almost reverently at first, lapping up every trace of cum and slick smeared across Yujin’s swollen folds. Her mouth shines with it within seconds, spit and juice and sweat painting her chin as she dives in deeper, tongue curling through Yujin’s folds, licking around her clit, flicking across the soft skin just below.

Yujin moans, hands fisting in the sheets. “Holy shit, baby girl… You’re lucky I’m not too wrecked to push you off—fuck—right there—”

Rei moans softly, her own thighs rubbing together as she licks Yujin clean, slowly, thoroughly, like she’s savoring every drop. Her hands keep Yujin’s legs open even as they twitch and quake, her tongue moving with agonizing patience over every inch of her unnie’s cunt.

Finally, when Yujin pushes at her head with a shuddering breath, too sensitive to take more, Rei pulls back—her lips glossy, cheeks flushed, her mouth open and panting. She looks up at you for approval, eyes wide and pupils blown, her mouth slick and pink.

You reach down and cup her jaw, pulling her in close. You kiss her—deep and dirty, tongue sliding into her mouth to taste your girl’s cum straight from her tongue. She melts into it instantly, moaning against your lips, her hands gripping your arms for balance.

“Good girl,” you murmur against her mouth. “You clean your unnie up so sweet.”

You shift on the bed, stretching out onto your back. Yujin smiles and rolls to the side, still catching her breath, propped up on her elbow to watch. You pat your thigh, eyes locked on Rei. “Now ride me. Let me feel that tight little pussy.”

Rei’s breath catches, eyes wide as she moves into position. She swings one leg over your hips, straddling you. Her hands plant on your chest, and she lines herself up—gripping your cock in one shaking hand and guiding the head to her soaked slit. You both groan at the contact.

She lowers herself slowly, inch by inch, and the tight heat of her pussy wraps around your cock like a vice.

“Shit,” you groan, your head tipping back. “Fucking tight—Jesus—”

Rei gasps, mouth open as she sinks down fully, her walls stretching wide to take your full length. Her nails dig into your chest, her entire body shaking as she bottoms out, your cock pulsing inside her.

“Oh my god,” she moans, hips trembling. “I—he’s so big—I feel so full—”

She sits there for a second, breath stuttering, getting used to it. Then, slowly, achingly, she starts to move—lifting her hips an inch, then sliding back down. Over and over, slow and shallow, her body adjusting to the stretch, her breath catching every time your cock brushes deep inside her.

Yujin watches with that wicked smile returning, eyes glued to where your bodies meet. “Look at her,” she purrs, reaching out to run her hand down Rei’s spine. “Fucking herself on that cock like she was made for it.”

And you don’t disagree.

Because Rei looks like she was made to be fucked just like this.

Rei begins to move with more confidence, her breath soft and fluttering with each bounce, hips rolling into a rhythm that makes her moan louder with every rise and fall. Her knees dig into the mattress on either side of your thighs, thighs flexing, slick skin catching the low firelight as she works herself down your cock with growing need. She’s tight, unbelievably so, her pussy stretching just enough to take you, her inner walls clenching around you like they want to keep every inch buried inside. The sounds—wet, obscene, addicting—mix with her whimpers, the slap of her hips against yours, the breathy gasps that escape her parted lips every time your cock punches up into that spot that makes her whole body twitch.

You grip her waist, thumbs digging into the soft dip above her hips, guiding her, not controlling—just giving her something to grind against. And fuck does she grind. Her pace picks up, small moans catching in her throat, her head falling back as she bounces a little harder, a little deeper. Her hair sticks to her neck and shoulders, her breasts rising and falling with each thrust.

Yujin’s watching, eyes hungry, a slow grin curving across her lips. She shifts up onto her knees, scooting closer until her chest presses against Rei’s back. Her hands reach around, cupping Rei’s tits, squeezing them roughly. Rei lets out a sharp gasp, arching against her, grinding your cock even deeper inside herself.

“Mmm,” Yujin hums, kissing the curve of Rei’s neck, her fingers pinching lightly at her nipples. “Tell me, isn't his cock better than my fingers, baby?” she whispers, sliding one hand down to press against Rei’s belly, feeling how deep you’re inside her. “Still think they feel better than his cock?”

Rei’s head tips forward, lips trembling. “N-no,” she gasps, voice high and shaking. “Nothing—nothing’s better than this. Than him.”

Yujin bites at her shoulder lightly, dragging her tongue across the red mark left behind. “That’s what I thought.” Her hand snakes back up, fingers rolling Rei’s nipples again, harder now, making her whimper and clench around you. “You look so fucking hot like this, getting ruined on his cock.”

You groan, hands sliding up Rei’s sides to meet Yujin’s, fingers brushing, the three of you moving together like a machine of heat and rhythm. Rei keeps riding, her moans getting louder, sharper, her body rocking forward every time your hips meet hers. You thrust up to meet her now, hard and deep, the rhythm intensifying until the wet slap of skin is constant, echoing through the room.

Yujin laughs softly, catching the way your jaw tightens, your eyes locked to where your cock disappears into Rei’s soaked pussy. She reaches down and brushes her fingers across your cheek, dragging your attention up to her face.

“You like watching her ride you, huh?” she says with a voice like velvet, sultry and knowing. “Like seeing our little toy bounce on your cock like she’s starving for it.”

You let out a low groan, hips jerking up harder into Rei, making her cry out and collapse forward against your chest.

“She’s perfect,” you breathe, your hands gripping Rei’s hips harder now, keeping her locked in your rhythm. “Fuck, you’re the best girlfriend in the world, Yujin.”

Yujin giggles, delighted, her lips brushing your jaw. “Damn right I am.” She leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, her tongue curling against yours, wet and hot and tasting like sex. Rei’s still riding through it, gasping between you both, her breath stuttering against your neck as her cunt milks your cock with every thrust.

You break the kiss just in time to watch her sit up again, her face pink and glowing, her body slick with sweat. She grinds down harder now, her pussy gripping you tighter, her rhythm more frantic, needier. Her hands press to your chest, nails raking slightly as she tries to steady herself, to keep control, but she’s unraveling—every second on your cock breaking her down more.

Yujin leans forward again, wrapping her arms around Rei from behind, pulling her flush to her chest. “Don’t slow down now, baby,” she whispers, lips brushing Rei’s ear. “Show him how good that tight little cunt of yours is. Make him lose his fucking mind.”

Rei moans, louder than before, her entire body jolting as she rides harder, faster. She rides you like she’s unraveling, hips jerking faster, sloppier, every grind more desperate than the last. Her moans have lost all inhibition—high, sweet, sharp little cries that echo off the walls, spiraling up through the rafters of the mountain home and disappearing into the cold air beyond the glass. She’s not holding back anymore. Every bounce makes her whimper, her thighs clapping down against yours, sweat glistening along the curve of her spine. Her tits sway with every frantic motion, her hands splayed on your chest as she fucks herself on your cock like she’s chasing something too big for her little body to hold.

“I—fuck—I’m close,” she gasps, eyes fluttering shut, head tilting back as her voice cracks on the confession. “So close—”

And god, hearing that, feeling how wet she’s gotten, how tight her pussy’s squeezing you like a vice, like she’s trying to hold you inside forever—it does something to you. The idea that she’s about to cum this fast, just from riding you, just from being watched and used and praised, carves itself into your memory. You know you'll use this to your advantage later.

You drag your hands up her sides, gripping her waist tight, halting her just enough to make her whimper in protest.

“Turn around,” you say. “I want to see that perfect ass swallowing my cock while you cum.”

Rei doesn’t hesitate. She bites her lip, nods quickly, and lifts herself off you with a breathless moan, your cock slipping free, drenched in her slick. She pivots around, her knees pressing to either side of your hips, her back now to your chest. She looks over her shoulder once, cheeks red, hair clinging to her damp skin, eyes glassy with submission.

And then she sinks back down.

You groan like you’re being pulled under water—her pussy splits around your cock again, tight and soaking, the new angle even more punishing. Her ass presses down against your pelvis, and fuck, it’s perfect. Juicy, round, the way it bounces with every move—it’s hypnotic. You can see everything now. The pink stretch of her cunt around you, the soft ring of her hole hugging your shaft like it was made for you. Every grind, every bounce, lets you watch her fuck herself open in real time.

“Holy fuck,” you hiss, hands grabbing handfuls of her hips as you push up into her. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

Yujin lets out a low whistle from beside you. “Damn,” she says, kneeling behind her, eyes locked on the way Rei’s pussy grips your cock. “That ass is unreal.”

Then she slaps it. Hard.

Rei jolts, letting out a surprised cry, her whole body shaking from the impact. Yujin grins, slapping her again, the sound sharp, obscene.

“Faster,” she commands, dragging her nails across Rei’s back. “I said faster, slut. Don’t slow down now. You’re about to cum, right? Show him how desperate you are.”

Rei lets out a broken moan, hips snapping faster, the cheeks of her ass bouncing wildly now, jiggling with every impact. Her hands dig into your thighs for leverage, her body working like she’s chasing orgasm with everything she’s got. Yujin leans forward, grabbing a handful of her ass and spreading her open, just to get a better view of your cock slamming into her soaked pussy.

“This your place now, huh?” Yujin sneers, slapping her again. The mark blooms bright red on her pale cheek. “Still think you’re the bossy one? Still wanna call me names?” Her voice drops to a growl, filthy and dripping with delight. “Look at you now. Just a fucktoy, getting your pussy destroyed for our entertainment. Serving daddy like a good little cumdump.”

Rei cries out, her moans high-pitched, shaky, legs trembling as she grinds down hard, trying to stay on rhythm even as her body threatens to fold. “Y-yes—yes, this is my place—want to serve you—want to make you both feel good—”

You slap her other cheek, hard enough to make it bounce and match Yujin’s. “Then fucking keep going,” you growl, your hands now dragging her down, your cock driving up into her with every bounce. “You want to cum? Then show me. Ride me like you mean it.”

Rei’s pace turns frantic, desperate. Her moans turn to cries, sharp and breathless, her hands gripping your knees so tight her knuckles turn white. Yujin’s slaps don’t stop—quick, hard, alternating cheeks, making her ass bloom with bright handprints. Rei’s entire body shudders with each one, her moans rising in pitch.

“You’re so fucking close,” you say. “I can feel it. You’re choking my cock. Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

“Daddy—oh god—fuck—I’m—”

You feel it—first in the subtle quiver of Rei’s thighs, then in the tightening of her pussy around your cock, pulsing rhythmically, almost pleading. Her pace falters for the first time, hips starting to stutter, her cries growing sharper, pitched higher with every bounce. You know that sound. That trembling, fragile edge of control that always shatters a second later. She's about to cum, and it's coming hard.

So you take over.

Your hands clamp down on her waist, dragging her down onto you harder, faster, each thrust slamming into her with force that makes her cry out, her nails digging into your thighs as she tries to brace herself. Her body rocks under the impact, spine arching as your cock pounds up into her, hitting that sweet, devastating spot over and over again.

"Fuck—fuck—he’s fucking me so hard!!" she screams, breathless and wild.

Yujin is right there behind her, her palm cracking against Rei’s already raw ass, loud and sharp. The mark deepens into a blazing red, the flesh bouncing with the blow. Rei howls, her voice breaking with the shock and pleasure. She can’t even stay upright anymore—her back arches, her body trembling like she’s about to break apart completely.

“Oh my god, she���s shaking,” Yujin laughs, breathless herself, her hand striking again, then again. “You’re gonna cum, huh? Gonna cream on his cock, you needy little bitch?” She grabs Rei’s hair, pulls her head back just enough to see her face—eyes fluttering, mouth open, cheeks flushed.

“Say it,” you growl, your hands moving now—spreading her ass open, wide, so you can watch everything. Her swollen pink pussy clenched tight around your cock, her slick dripping down your shaft and balls, and above that—her tight, twitching little asshole winking with every thrust.

The view is obscene. Filthy. Perfect.

Rei screams, her hands slamming against your legs for leverage, her whole body jolting. “I’m cumming—I’m fucking cumming—oh my god—DADDYYY!”

She falls forward with it, collapsing against your chest as her orgasm rips through her. Her pussy clenches violently, sucking at your cock like it’s trying to drain you, her body convulsing with each wave. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream, her breath caught, eyes rolling back as she trembles through it, completely undone. You hold her in place, grinding your cock deep inside, keeping her filled through every shake.

She’s so tight—too tight—and it nearly breaks you.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you growl, your hands clutching her ass, your hips still rolling up into her softly now, chasing that last spark of heat. “Get off. Now. Lie down.”

Rei shudders one last time, barely able to move, and Yujin helps her off your cock, your length sliding out wet and throbbing. A thick strand of cum and slick clings from her dripping pussy to your cockhead, and your hands are already guiding them both.

“On the bed,” you command. “Heads on the edge. Open those mouths.”

Yujin smirks, moving without hesitation, dragging Rei with her. The girls crawl across the bed, bodies flushed and glistening with sweat, their asses in the air, breasts pressing into the sheets. They lie on their stomachs side by side, faces turned up, heads hanging slightly off the mattress, mouths parting in perfect unison.

Your cock is throbbing, heavy and ready to blow. Their tongues stretch out instinctively, eyes full of eager heat.

You step in close, cock heavy and gleaming, inches from their waiting mouths, and you let it fall against Yujin’s lips first. She smiles without breaking eye contact, licking the tip slowly, deliberately, her tongue circling the crown before flicking up under the frenulum. That single motion almost makes your knees buckle. Her mouth is warm, practiced—she sucks the head in, sealing her lips around it so tight that you almost cum right there.

Then you shift, feeding more to her. She takes a few inches easily, sucking hard enough to make your thighs tense, tongue teasing every ridge and vein as you begin to fuck slowly into her mouth. Wet, obscene sounds rise up between her lips and your cock—every time you push deeper, her throat hums around you, moaning softly like she needs it, like this is how she says thank you.

But it’s Rei who stuns you next.

When you pull from Yujin’s mouth with a soft pop, a thin strand of spit clinging to your tip, Rei tilts her chin higher, holding her mouth open like a good little slut, and you slide in—slow at first, watching the stretch of her lips around your girth, her lashes fluttering as the head pushes over her tongue, then deeper. She doesn’t stop you. She doesn’t flinch.

She swallows everything.

“Fuck—Rei,” you groan, hands gripping her jaw, guiding the pace now as her throat opens and her lips press flush against your base. “You just took it all, huh?”

Her answer is a wet gag and a shiver that rolls down her spine—but she doesn’t pull back. You feel her throat clench, a tremble passing through her whole body, and she moans around your cock, gurgling softly. Her nose is against your pelvis, her lips stretched around you, and it’s all too fucking much.

You start to fuck her throat properly now, pulling back an inch or two before driving back in, over and over, your cock disappearing down her tight, hot throat while Yujin strokes herself beside her, moaning softly as she watches.

“Look at her,” Yujin purrs, reaching out to brush hair back from Rei’s face. “So eager now. You were such a brat earlier, but this? This is your place. Swallowing cock for us. And you’re so fucking good at it.”

Rei moans in response, her eyes fluttering shut as her cheeks hollow. You pull back and slide into Yujin again without warning, and she groans around you, sucking you deep immediately, hands on your thighs for balance, throat flexing as you push deeper. Then Rei is back—she kisses and licks your shaft while Yujin’s mouth works your head, dragging her tongue up your length, kissing your balls, moaning like she’s addicted to your taste.

Each girl begs in her own way. Yujin pulls off just long enough to whisper, “Give it to us, babe. Cover our faces. I want to feel you dripping down my chin.” Then her mouth is back on you.

Rei strokes your shaft when she can, kissing the base, whispering, “Cum for me, daddy. Paint me. I want to wear it.” Her mouth finds your tip again, sloppy and desperate, sucking with the kind of pressure that makes your spine curve.

You can’t hold it anymore.

“Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you growl, pulling out of Rei’s mouth with a wet sound. She gasps for air, mouth still open, tongue hanging, eyes wide.

You grip your cock, jerking it fast, tight strokes from base to tip as both girls hold their mouths open, faces tilted up, tongues out, waiting. Their eyes are locked on your hand, then on the head of your cock, and they’re moaning in sync—Yujin panting, Rei whispering “please, please, please—”

And then you explode.

Your cock pulses violently in your fist and thick ropes of cum launch from the tip, hot and heavy, splattering across their faces in long white streaks. Rei flinches as the first shot hits her cheek, then moans when the next hits her lips, dripping down her chin. Yujin gets a thick stream across her nose and mouth, a few drops painting her cheek and lashes. They both gasp, letting it hit them, worship them, mark them.

You keep stroking through it, more spurting out, your thighs trembling as you finally empty yourself, painting them both in messy, dripping ropes. It drips from Rei’s chin onto her breasts, rolls down Yujin’s cheek and pools at her collarbone.

The silence that follows is a different kind of intimate—no rush, no frenzy—just breathless stillness and bodies pressed close. You watch them breathe, watch their chests rise and fall in sync, the flush slowly fading from their cheeks as the afterglow settles in.

Yujin moves first.

With a slow, almost tender touch, she reaches for Rei, brushing her thumb across the corner of her mouth where a thick drop of your release clings. She scoops it gently and brings it to her lips, sucking it clean, eyes locked on Rei’s. “Messy girl,” she murmurs with a faint smirk, but there’s affection underneath it.

Rei doesn’t look away. She shifts forward, mirroring the gesture, her fingers curling under Yujin’s jaw as she leans in and slowly licks a thick smear of cum off Yujin’s cheek. It’s unhurried, like she’s savoring it, letting her tongue drag deliberately slow before pulling back with a faint moan. “You taste like him,” she whispers, almost in awe, then grins. “Kinda addictive.”

You slide down beside them, your body still pulsing faintly with the remnants of your climax, and lean back against the headboard. They press in on either side, warm and soft, naked and smeared with your cum. The room smells like sweat and sex and skin. You wrap an arm around each of them, fingers threading through theirs, grounding yourself in this closeness.

Yujin tilts her head against your shoulder, her voice lower now, that teasing edge replaced with something quieter. “So?” she asks, eyes half-lidded as she turns to look at you. “Now that you’re not fucking the soul out of one of us… what did you think? Be honest.”

You smile. You can’t help it—it stretches wide across your face, a lazy, completely satisfied grin. “It was amazing,” you say. “Really. I mean it.” You turn toward Yujin, squeeze her hand gently. “Thank you. For planning this. For bringing her. For knowing exactly what I needed when I didn’t even ask.”

Yujin blushes a little, like she wasn’t expecting you to get soft, but she leans in and kisses your shoulder. “You earned it,” she murmurs. “Two months waiting? You deserved more than just me on your lap for a week.”

Then you look to Rei. Her eyes are shining, lips parted like she’s trying to figure out what to say, what she’s supposed to feel right now. You reach over and take her hand, intertwining your fingers.

“And thank you,” you say, quieter now, more deliberate. “For trusting us. For being here, like this. You didn’t have to say yes. But you did.”

Rei’s eyes flicker, then she nods slowly. “I was nervous,” she admits. “At first. But… it feels right. Being here with you both. Like I’m not just watching, I’m part of something.”

“You are,” Yujin says immediately, reaching over to run a finger down her arm. “You are part of it. And you’re not getting rid of us now, so…”

You laugh, and the sound cuts through the lingering haze, lifting the tension just enough. You squeeze both their hands, looking between them. “This week’s going to be unforgettable.”

Rei smiles, glowing now, more open than you’ve ever seen her. “So what do we do now?” she asks, almost shyly.

Yujin stretches, yawning a little, her body arching beautifully as she slides off the bed. “We shower,” she says. “We’re sticky, we smell like sex, and the bed looks like someone got waterboarded with cum.”

Rei giggles, burying her face in your neck for a moment before pulling back. “Gross. True. But gross.”

Yujin turns toward the bathroom, looking back over her shoulder. “Come on. We clean up, then we crawl back into that bed and cuddle properly. I want to fall asleep between my two favorite people.”

Rei rises to her knees, stretching out her back with a soft moan. “And maybe we do it all again later.”

Yujin smirks. “Oh, baby. That’s a guarantee.”

And just like that, the three of you slip off the bed, bare skin brushing, fingers still tangled, limbs overlapping as you stumble toward the bathroom. Together.

—

The house transforms. After the first night as a chaotic threesome—the tangled limbs, the cum-soaked sheets, the three of you curled into one another like some beautiful, breathless tangle of heat and trust—something shifts. It’s not a fling anymore, not just a wild vacation. It becomes a rhythm. A dynamic. An unspoken contract that every glance, every obedient gesture, every parted mouth affirms.

The mornings start slow, but never soft. Rei’s the first to rise most days, slipping from the bed on quiet feet only to crawl back between your thighs, warm mouth sealing over your cock before you’ve even opened your eyes. She worships you in silence, gentle kisses and long, wet licks, until you’re hard in her throat and groaning into the pillows. Some mornings, you pull her up by her hair and fuck her mouth while Yujin wakes to the sounds of her little toy gagging on your cock. Other mornings, Yujin pulls Rei into her lap, rubbing slow circles on her clit while you slide inside her from behind, fucking her while she’s still half-asleep, her head buried in Yujin’s chest, moaning softly.

The rules become natural. No one speaks them aloud, but they’re etched in the way Rei drops her eyes when you approach, the way Yujin spreads her legs for you with a smirk that dares you to make her beg. You tell them what to do, when to open, when to kneel, when to cum (and when not to). And they obey. Not because they have to, but because they want to.

You fuck them everywhere.

The kitchen island becomes a favorite: cold marble on their bellies, their knees hooked over the edge, their cheeks flush with exertion as you alternate between them, cock slick with both their juices, slapping against their asses before slamming back inside. Yujin’s louder there, moaning openly as she gets filled, one hand clutching Rei’s hair as she holds her in place beside her, their lips brushing as they pant through it together. Rei’s frame bounces with every thrust, whimpering when you grab her hips and whisper how tight her little cunt is, how easy it is to ruin her.

The living room couch isn’t spared. One afternoon, fire roaring, snow falling lazily outside the wide glass windows. Rei on her knees, mouth wide, tears dripping off her chin as you fuck her throat, one hand buried in her hair, the other holding Yujin’s leg up as you finger her slow, deep, denying her the orgasm she’s clawing toward.

“You don’t cum until I say,” you murmured, lips brushing her ear. She sobbed in frustration, her slick soaking your hand, thighs trembling, but she nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

You used your belt that night. Their wrists bound, their asses striped with marks. Yujin counted out every hit with a moan, each number slurred between her gasps. Rei sobbed and whimpered but never begged you to stop—she just pushed her hips higher, her soaked thighs glistening as the red marks bloomed bright across her pale skin.

And they loved it.

“Thank you,” Rei whispered after, her eyes wet but not from pain. “Thank you for putting me in my place.”

You kissed her then. You always did after.

The hot spring was used more at night, when the steam clung thick to the air and the cold wind made every movement outside the water a delicious shock. One night, you made Rei cum three times in a row, her pussy so swollen and sensitive she begged you to stop, even as her hips chased your fingers. You held her down, whispering praise and filth into her ear, while Yujin sat beside you, masturbating lazily, watching her lovely friend fall apart with a smirk on her lips.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” you murmured. “But this pussy’s still fucking greedy, isn’t it?”

Rei only nodded, eyes rolling back as another orgasm tore through her.

Other nights, you took Yujin to the edge and held her there—fingers deep inside her, tongue dragging slow circles over her clit, stopping just as her thighs locked around your head. She cursed you, clawed at your hair, begged and pleaded.

“You’ll cum when I say,” you reminded her, wiping her slick off your lips and making her taste it on your tongue.

The hot spring became your throne. Yujin on your lap, straddling you, bouncing on your cock slowly while Rei knelt on the edge, watching, touching herself, waiting her turn. You pulled Rei in after, making her ride your face while Yujin kissed your neck, her breasts pressed to your chest, still grinding down onto your lap, still greedy for more.

But it wasn’t just the sex.

There were quiet moments too. Evenings where you cooked together, Rei sitting on the counter, legs swinging, still wearing your hoodie and nothing else. Yujin behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, her cheek on your back, humming while the pasta boiled. Long hikes once the snow melted, bundled in coats and scarves, holding hands, stealing kisses behind trees. You stopped to take photos of them—Rei leaning into Yujin, Yujin’s head tilted, a grin tugging at her lips.

And always, at night, you ended up back in the same bed. Sometimes naked and aching. Sometimes just wrapped around each other, warm under the covers, their breathing soft and even as they slept against your chest. Rei tucked against your side, Yujin draped over your stomach, your arms around both of them. Safe. Close.

One night, as the fire crackled low and the sky outside darkened to a violet hush, Rei whispered, “I don’t want this to end.”

Yujin didn’t say anything, just reached for your hand under the blanket and held it tight.

Yeah. Neither did you.

—

The snow melts in pieces.

At first, it’s subtle; just a softening at the edges of the deck where the heat of the hot spring spills over. Then the air starts to change. Less bite, more breath. The icicles drip, slow and steady, and patches of green appear between the stone steps leading from the house to the trees. What once was a white-blanketed silence becomes a landscape of new possibilities: thawed trails, streams trickling with cold meltwater, sunlight dappling through the trees as if the forest was waking up with you.

You take them outside often, now that the world’s no longer buried in frost. The hikes stretch longer. Mornings start with Rei bouncing against your chest as you fuck her up against the side of a pine, her hoodie bunched up under her arms, her bare ass slapping against your thighs while Yujin watches with her hands in her panties, panting, whispering encouragement.

Afternoons are for sunlit fucking in the grass, knees pressing into soft earth, their mouths full of your cock while the trees sway above. You remember one particular moment: Rei straddling your lap in a clearing, her cunt dripping onto your cock before you even sank in. She rode you like she was trying to leave marks on your pelvis, while Yujin kissed her neck from behind, whispering “Good girl. That’s it. Take daddy’s cock like you need it.”

And she did. Every damn time.

The deck becomes another playground. With the snow receded, it’s all open space now—warm planks under your feet, bodies glistening in the sunlight, the girls naked and on their knees in the late afternoon glow. You use them however you want. Rei lies across your lap, ass red from your belt, moaning into Yujin’s pussy while you fuck her mouth. You deny Yujin again that night, teasing her over the edge four times in a row until she’s crying from frustration, her body trembling, begging, telling you she’ll do anything

And you still make her wait until the next morning.

They thrive in their roles. Not just the sex, but the trust in it. The clarity. The pure, unshakable knowing that they are yours, and that you take care of what’s yours. You fuck them with dominance, punish them with intention, reward them with care. You spoil them when it’s earned, and you’re cruel when it’s needed. Yujin leans into your hand when you pet her hair. Rei practically melts every time you whisper 'good girl'. You tuck them in at night like they’re precious. Because they are.

The house becomes a memory before it even ends. The walls feel like they’re made of more than wood now. Every room has a story. The kitchen tile still bears the faint mark where Rei’s knees pressed while you came on her tongue. The windows fogged over during Yujin’s first denied orgasm. The hot spring bubbled around your waist as both their mouths worked your cock in tandem under the stars.

And then it’s the last day.

You wake before them. Habit, maybe. The bed is warm, the sheets tangled with limbs and the scent of skin. Rei’s cheek is on your chest, Yujin curled along your side, her arm draped across your stomach. You lie there, just watching the ceiling, your hand stroking Rei’s back in lazy circles, feeling the weight of time pressing in from the edges. There’s no more food in the fridge. The towels are already packed. The silence is heavy.

Eventually, you shift, brushing hair from their faces, and they both wake slowly—blinking, stretching, sighing into your skin.

Yujin kisses your jaw. “Is it really the last day?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “We should start packing.”

No one moves for a long time.

When you finally do, it’s slow, unhurried. Rei sits on the edge of the bed in your shirt, staring out at the mountain view one last time. Yujin folds clothes with robotic precision. You zip up the suitcase and pause before closing it, staring at the belt coiled neatly inside.

The hike back down the trail feels different. The thrill of arrival is replaced by a quiet reluctance, the damp earth breathing a soft scent of pine and thawing soil where crisp snow crunched just days ago. Rei walks between you and Yujin, her hand tucked firmly in yours, Yujin’s on your other side, occasionally bumping her shoulder against yours. The silence isn't awkward, just... full. Heavy with memories made, unspoken emotions, and the lingering heat of that last night, that last morning fuck that left you all tangled and blissed out until the absolute last second.

Loading the car in the small clearing feels anticlimactic after the grandeur of the house. You slide into the driver’s seat, the familiar smell of the car—leather and lingering coffee—a stark contrast to the house’s cedarwood and sex musk. Yujin takes shotgun, immediately fiddling with the music, searching for something mellow. Rei curls up in the back, pulling Yujin’s discarded travel jacket over herself like a blanket, tucking her feet up onto the seat.

The drive starts slow, bumping back down the gravel track onto smoother pavement. Mountains recede in the rearview mirror, replaced by rolling hills, then farmland, then the first hints of approaching civilization. Sunlight streams through the windshield, warming your face. Maybe it's the warmth, maybe it's the comfortable silence stretching a little too long, but a thought that's been nagging at the back of your mind surfaces. You glance over at Yujin, then catch Rei’s eye in the mirror.

"So..." you start, trying to sound casual, one hand steady on the wheel. "Week was... okay? For you guys?"

Yujin turns down the music slightly, giving you a sideways look, eyebrow arched. "Okay? Seriously? After that?" She gestures vaguely, encompassing the entire insane, intense week. "What brought this on?"

You shrug, feeling a little awkward now you've voiced it. "I dunno. Just thinking back." You grip the wheel a bit tighter. "Was I... too much? Sometimes?" You glance in the mirror again, meeting Rei’s wide eyes. "Like, uh... the belt that night? Or keeping you waiting, Yujin? Making Rei ride me till she basically passed out?" A flush creeps up your neck. "Maybe I got carried away. Just wanted to make sure... you know. It was good. Not just... rough."

Yujin bursts out laughing. She twists in her seat, elbow resting on the center console, leaning towards you. "Babe," she says. "Did you miss the part where we basically signed up for exactly that? Where Rei practically glowed when I told her she was the 'reward'?" She shakes her head, still chuckling. "Overdo it? You gave us exactly what we didn't even know how badly we needed. Don't go getting all insecure on us now."

From the back seat, Rei leans forward quickly, sliding between the front seats, her expression earnest. "No! He's right, Unnie, don't laugh!" she insists, though a small smile plays on her lips. She looks directly at you, her gaze surprisingly steady now. "It wasn't too much. Not at all." Her cheeks color slightly, a familiar pretty pink. "Honestly? I... I loved it."

She takes a breath, seemingly gathering her thoughts. "It was... intense, yeah. Sometimes it hurt, like the belt. And sometimes..." she trails off, glancing away for a second before meeting your eyes again, "...sometimes when you were fucking my throat, I thought I might actually pass out. But..." Her tone drops slightly, becoming more intimate. "It wasn't just rough. Not ever. Even when you were being... demanding... or cruel..." She searches for the right words. "I never felt scared. Or unsafe. I felt... seen."

She gestures vaguely towards herself. "Like, you saw the part of me that wanted that. The part that liked being told what to do, liked being pushed, liked... feeling like a toy, maybe?" Her blush deepens, but she doesn't look away. "But you always took care of us afterwards. The kisses, the cuddles, the way you'd just hold us..." She shrugs, a small, vulnerable movement. "It made the hard parts... worth it. More than worth it. It made me feel... cherished, even while you were leaving marks on my ass." A tiny, self-conscious laugh escapes her. "Does that sound crazy?"

"No," you say immediately, reaching out to gently squeeze her shoulder where she's leaning between the seats. "Not crazy at all. Makes perfect sense."

Yujin nods emphatically beside you, her expression softening as she looks at Rei. "She's right. You nailed the balance, baby." She reaches over, taking your free hand from the wheel, intertwining her fingers with yours on the center console. "You knew exactly when to push, when to praise, when to punish, and when to just... hold us. That's not easy. That's... rare." She brings your joined hands up, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "And honestly? Bringing Rei?" She grins, glancing back at the her. "Best fucking idea I ever had. Watching you two together... the way she looked at you, the way you handled her... pure magic." She winks. "Definitely got me off more than once just watching."

Rei playfully swats Yujin's arm, though her eyes are shining. She stays leaning between the seats, after a moment of comfortable silence, punctuated only by the hum of the tires, Rei speaks again, hesitant this time

"So... um... do you think..." She clears her throat, looking from you to Yujin and back again. "Could we... maybe... do this again sometime? Like, another trip?"

Yujin answers instantly, nodding enthusiastically. "Oh, hell yes. In a heartbeat." She squeezes your hand tighter. "Same house, if we can get it. Or maybe a different but equally isolated place, who knows? Definitely same rules... maybe even some new rules?" She raises a suggestive eyebrow. "Definitely same people. And next time? We stay longer. A week wasn't nearly enough."

You turn your head slightly, catching Rei’s hopeful gaze.

"You'd really want to come again, Rei?" you ask softly. "Seriously? After everything? The throatfucking? The denials? Making you lick Yujin clean?"

Rei doesn't even blush this time. A slow, wicked smirk spreads across her face, transforming her expression from sweet ingenue to knowing participant. It’s ridiculously hot.

"Especially after everything you put me through," she replies, her tone steady. "Try and stop me."

Yujin laughs, delighted. "See? Told you she was hooked." She leans back in her seat, already brainstorming. "Okay, so next time... maybe we explore denial a bit more? For both of us?" She glances at you slyly. "See how long you can make us wait? How much we'll beg?"

Rei nods eagerly. "Ooh, yes! And maybe... maybe some outfits? Like, actual maid outfits? Or collars?" Her eyes sparkle with ideas. "And maybe... could you tie me up? Properly? Like, spread-eagled on the bed?"

"Baby steps, princess," Yujin chuckles. "But I like where your head's at. Collars are definitely happening. Maybe leashes?"

"Okay, okay," you interrupt, laughing, though the ideas are definitely sparking something low in your gut. "Let's get back to the city first before we plan the next round of debauchery." You steer the conversation slightly. "But yeah. Another trip sounds... essential."

They start chattering excitedly, bouncing ideas off each other: different locations, maybe a beach house next time, incorporating public play dares, exploring different dynamics, maybe Yujin dominating Rei more explicitly under your direction. The conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter, suggestive touches, and shared glances in the rearview mirror that hold promises of filthier, more twisted adventures to come. The melancholy of leaving fades… Now there’s the certainty that this incredible, intense connection you've forged isn't ending here.

It's just taking a breath before diving even deeper.

[tender-rosiey]

pretty babies – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: idk about yall but I love me some drunk gojo

satoru never drinks, but when he does, ohoho, you’re in for quite the ride.

today was one of the days when he was less of a chaotic handful but more of an emotional mess who apparently can’t even remember his own wife. you sip on your drink, ignoring the drunk satoru leaning on the bar.

he slurs his words as he tries to flirt, “you’re sooo pretty, y’know that?”

you nod with a hum and give him no further reaction. in situations like these, you figured out that letting him go all out until he is tired and sleepy is the best solution. it really is like treating a baby.

thankfully, after many years of being in the presence of one gojo satoru, you’ve built up some patience.

he rests his head on the counter and he looks up at you, eyes wide and in awe, “I bet,” he hiccups and it is followed by a silly little giggle, “we’d make superrrr cute babies! like all round and chubby and we’d much on their cheeks like…mochi! yes! mochi…now I am hungry.”

a smirk makes an appearance on your face as you glance at satoru who is blabbering about building a family with you and spoiling you rotten.

a little teasing won’t harm anyone. so you quip, “you know,” and his attention is already on you, “you already gave me three super cute babies.”

his mouth is wide open in disbelief as he sits up, “no way!”

“yup! and they’re waiting at home for us.”

his eyes crinkle because of his wide grin, “really?!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, “you got photos?! please tell me that you do!” and he switches to a pout so quickly, it gives you whiplash.

however, you gladly pull out your phone and show him the multitude of photos you have.

ones ranging from him being in a crib to help the youngest one sleep to ones with two of the three kids ganging up on him and him desperately calling for your help. satoru goes through every single photo, head on your shoulder and cheek squished.

he is silent throughout it all and when he is done, he looks up at you, “so that means that you’re my wife?”

you nod and your fingers, naturally, find their place on his head. he feels a little shiver of satisfaction before he smiles, one lovesick and silly smile, “I really hit the jackpot.”

you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I guess you did.”

so you take him back home where the kids are already asleep. satoru crashes on the bed right away, steady breaths filling the room. slowly, you take your place beside him and you feel his arms wrap around you.

he pulls you closer and buries his face in your hair. and you close your eyes, letting yourself be lulled to the land of dreams.

when you do wake up, you’re greeted by satoru literally on top of you and deep in sleep. you would like to let him sleep more especially since he looks so comfortable, but you’re going to suffocate at this rate. so you pat his back lightly, “satoru, honey, wake up.”

he groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling something along the lines of ‘five more minutes’.

not budging? then fine, you decide. you take as deep of a breath as you can then call for your kids, “who will help mama?!”

it’s quiet and you can feel satoru smirking against your skin. it looks like he won, but then a bunch of footsteps are heard and it’s your turn to smirk.

your husband lifts his head to glare at you—of course, not without sporting one of his famous pouts.

the door is then slammed open and your eldest son is there, “WHO DARES HURT OUR MAMA?!”

he gasps, very dramatically like a certain someone, and points at his dad, “PAPA?! you’re suffocating mama!”

“again?!” your daughter pops up from behind her brother, staring at her dad in disbelief.

they both stand beside your bed glaring at him and he glares back, the three of them forgetting why you called for your kids in the first place. so you do them a favor and remind them, “satoru…I AM GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS!”

satoru is pulled  back by his shirt and your kids take turns in—trying—to beat him up. you get up, greedily breathing air till you’re satisfied. you ignore the screams of your husband until you’re done with your morning routine.

luckily enough, when you got out of the bathroom, you found no one except your husband.

laying on the ground.

presumably dead.

with a bunch of drawings on his face and his hair contained with multiple hair bands.

you snap a picture of him very quickly then you sit on the ground next to his corpse. you poke his butt and he groans, making you giggle, “what happened to the strongest sorcerer?”

he turns towards you with a small frown, “his pretty wife didn’t kiss him good morning so he had no energy to fight,” his head snaps towards the two tiny figures giggling behind the door, “these monsters.”

they squeal and run away once again before he catches them.

you gently take the hair bands off, “you’re lucky that our youngest devil is still asleep,” you then smooth down his hair and pat his head, “I love the smiley faces on your cheeks.”

he whines and rests his head on your shoulder, “stop bullying me!”

you hum and stroke his hair, “you know, you did something pretty cute yesterday.”

“I am always cute; what’re you talking about?”

“you flirted with me, your wife, and said we would make ‘super cute!’ babies,” you reveal and satoru seems unbothered. in fact, he seems proud and very happy with himself so you continue, “so I had to remind you of our three little devils and then I showed you pictures.”

he stands up, posing all confidently, “what can I say? I excel at everything even being cute—“

“then you cried like a little baby when I showed you my picture post labor and kept apologizing.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[p-seduonym]

Switched at Birth (Part Three)

A/N: Man I am leaning hard into wlw territory here. Maybe I'll just make the OC a romantic yandere while Batfam is platonic yandere. Would that work? idk. Again, @luludeluluramblings is accredited for this fic concept.

Yandere!Batfam X Switched!Fem!Reader X Yandere!Wayne!OC

If your family noticed the odd tension in the air, they wisely chose to ignore it.

Instead, they welcomed the hesitant Melissa with open arms.

That evening, you and Melissa arrived just as your siblings were setting the table. You strolled into the kitchen with such ease that Melissa hesitated at the threshold. But she didn’t want to stray too far from you—so she followed, nevertheless.

The tiled floors, warped with age, were a pleasant sage green. Neutral-toned curtains billowed in front of the open window, carrying in the last remnants of daylight. A woman stood at the counter, her back to the doorway, while a man sat nearby, face hidden behind a newspaper.

“Hey, Mom,” you greeted her so casually that she shot you an incredulous look. “A friend came over for dinner.”

The woman turned, and Melissa felt her heart waver.

Big, round eyes. Watery, almost. Much too big for her narrow face. The same ones Melissa had.

“Oh, baby, you can’t just surprise me like that. I would’ve cleaned up if I knew we had company.”

Her apron bore a tapestry of stains, her hair messily tied up.

“You look fine,” you said, plopping down in a chair. Melissa lingered near the doorway. “You know that’s the morning paper, right? Why read it now?”

A huff came from behind the pages, like an old dog roused from a nap. “Could barely read with your chatter. Just doing the crossword, anyway.”

Melissa noted his hands—worn, but not calloused. She couldn’t see his face, only the familiar slump of his shoulders. Weary, yet content. Around the kitchen, your siblings chatted as they placed mismatched dinner plates. A warm, easy rhythm settled over the tiny room.

“Oh, honey, don’t just stand there—you’ll make me feel bad. Here, have a seat.”

It took longer than Melissa would like to admit to realize your her mother was talking to her.

“Yeah, c’mon, sit here.”

You stretched out an arm, expectantly. Cautiously, she stepped forward. Then again. Three steps before she finally lowered herself into the offered seat beside you.

Dinner was breaded chicken meatloaf, served with a simple salad and warm bread.

“So, you’re her friend?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, none of that! You’ll make me sound old.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. She is old,” one of your siblings quipped.

“Hush, you.” Your mother rolled her eyes. “So what’s your name? My dear daughter didn’t tell me.”

“Melissa.”

“Melissa, then. Do you go to school with her?”

She fidgeted.

“Uh, no… I go to Gotham Prep.”

That caught your siblings’ attention.

“Really? Whoa, are you rich or something!?”

“Dummy, you can’t just ask that!”

“But it’s true, ain’t it?”

“Hush, you guys,” you scolded lightly.

“But that is quite a ways out. How did you two meet?” your father asked.

“At The Second Cup,” you answered flippantly. “We got to talking.”

“Really? That tacky dump?”

“You have no eye for ‘chic,’ do you?” you shot back. “Melissa liked it, didn’t you?”

“Y-Yes, it was a nice spot.”

“Wow, I’m convinced,” your mother chuckled. “If she strong-armed you into going, you can just say that, y’know?”

“No, really, I liked it,” Melissa insisted. “There were a lot of people, and the music was nice…”

“Come on, don’t bully her,” you teased. “It’s obvious she went because I wanted to. She’s just nice like that.”

“What, was it a date?”

Melissa choked on a bit of food.

“N-No! It w-wasn’t anything like that!”

Your eyes glinted mischievously.

“It wasn’t a date? You’re breaking my heart here, Mel.”

She turned red with astonishment. Mel?

“Now who’s bullying her? Leave the poor girl alone,” your mother chided.

Light laughter bubbled around the table, and Melissa felt her heart clench.

Such a warm, easygoing atmosphere.

It was never like this in Wayne Manor. Every attempt was met with silence and indifference. 

For the first time in a long while, Melissa enjoyed a family dinner.

All because of you.

Winding down from dinner, You invited her to your room. It was far smaller than her own, as to be expected. But there was so much more to it.

The room is small, cozy, and filled with warmth. Walls painted in a soft shade of off white and decorated with posters, photos, and old concert tickets taped up in a collage of memories. A string of fairy lights zigzags across the ceiling, casting a golden glow against the darkness of that night. The twin bed, covered in a mismatched quilt—stitched together from what looks like old childhood blankets—sits against the wall, pillows piled up haphazardly. A sturdy wooden dresser, somewhat scuffed, holds framed photos of family vacations, goofy childhood pictures, and a few hand-drawn doodles from her younger siblings. A bookshelf, crammed with well-loved paperbacks, notebooks, and trinkets, sits beside a small desk where unfinished homework competes for space with art supplies, snack wrappers, and a half-written journal. A soft, well-worn rug covers the wooden floor, the kind that makes you want to sit cross-legged with a book or a cup of tea. A hoodie—too big, borrowed from a friend or sibling likely—hangs off the back of a chair.

The room isn’t perfect. It’s a little messy, a little cluttered, but it feels lived in. Loved. A place filled with laughter, warmth, and a sense of belonging.

She tries to recall anything of note in her own room. Large, empty, and sterile, are the only thoughts that come to mind.

Here’s a refined version with a more natural flow and emotional depth:

You sat down on the carpet, leaning back against your bed, while Melissa settled stiffly at your desk. She glanced around, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of your cluttered workspace.

“You have a nice room,” she said.

“Really? It’s kind of a mess right now.”

“It’s nice,” she insisted, firmer this time.

You shrugged. “Well, thanks. I imagine you’ve seen better, though.”

“Not really,” she admitted. “I don’t visit friends very much.”

“Well, glad to know I’m the exception.”

A faint smile crossed her lips.

“So... we’re friends?” she asked, almost cautiously.

“I like to think we are. Star-crossed, fate-bound—all that jazz.”

Melissa let out a small huff, something that almost resembled a laugh.

“I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

You tilted your head, watching her carefully.

“But really…” You rested your elbows on your knees, voice dipping slightly. “This kinda sucks, but you know what?”

She glanced at you. “What?”

“It’s kinda special, y’know.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.” You exhaled, as if the thought had just fully settled in your mind. “I mean, we could live our entire lives, meet thousands of people, and no one else would have this—what we have right now.”

Melissa’s throat felt tight. “Is that how you see it?”

“Well, yeah.” You paused, then added, softer, “I don’t think I’ll ever meet someone like you.”

Melissa felt her heart stop.

“Do… do you mean that?”

“I do.”

The words settled between you, heavy and fragile all at once. Then, as if sensing the moment teetering too close to something unspoken, you grinned and reached out—grabbing her wrist in a sudden, playful tug.

Caught off guard, she yelped and stumbled forward, landing on her knees in front of you.

“Well, that’s a lie,” you teased. “I do know one thing, at least.”

She swallowed, her pulse thrumming in her ears.

“You won’t be alone anymore, okay?”

It’s not fair. Really.

Just how much you made her heart waver.

A/N: I might commit to the romantic angle or I might just make them friends. I just wanted to show Melissa finally feeling like she belongs somewhere.

[chubby-bun-bun]

untitled (part 6)

He helps you deal with a problem in his own thoughtful way—unconventional (and illegal) it may be.

nav: one, two, three, four, five, six (current) or: read on ao3

tags: sylus x reader, an au where you're an average citizen, slow burn, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, mentions of death, descriptions of a panic attack, problem-solving the n109 zone way

There’s nothing quite like dragging someone into your nonsense—especially when they always let you get away with it.

After that impromptu Frostlight holiday hangout, the long-overdue coat-and-sweater handover felt far less nerve-wracking, even during the meetups that followed. Over the past few weeks, you’ve managed to whisk the busy fruit vendor away to some of the most random spots the city has to offer.

Sometimes, your plans are scenic: the aquarium, park strolls, cozy cafes, trendy restaurants, and curated museums. Other times, they’re chaos incarnate: amusement park rides, escape rooms, and that one rage room session sparked by your urge to send your manager to the afterlife. While Sylus’ schedule frequently takes him out of the city doing whatever it is that in-demand fruit vendors do, you’ve come to appreciate the effort he puts into showing up whenever he can.

(You’re yet to successfully pay for anything. No matter how sneaky you try to be with the waiters and cashiers, he always seems to be one step ahead, swiping his card before you can even reach for yours.)

Funny enough, the more time you spend together, the less you view him through rose-tinted glasses. You've grown to look past his conventional looks and genuinely enjoy his company—especially his deadpan tendencies and razor-sharp wit. That doesn’t mean you’ve stopped obsessing over your appearance before hanging out with him, though. You still agonize over your outfit, fuss over your hair, and polish every detail you can catch in the mirror before stepping out of the house. You can’t help it. But in many ways, you’ve also grown comfortable enough to be yourself around him and bother him with your shenanigans.

Like so.

[You] You sent fruit man a link. [You] let’s go ୧(•ᴗ•)୨ [fruit man] Now why would a kitten go to a cat cafe? [fruit man] Visiting your colony mates? [You] because i said so [You] LETS GO

And so, here you are at the cat café you frequent, gently petting the resident caracal you've grown so fond of.

The café staff often marvel at how calm he is with you, noting that while he doesn't harm anyone, he tends to hiss at every guest and employee. No one else seems to have managed to break through his haughty exterior like you have. Now, the giant feline is practically putty in your arms, its massive paws kneading biscuits into your thankfully jean-covered thighs. 

You tell Sylus as much, smugly stroking its floppy ears.

“Well aren’t you comfortable?” he drawls, glancing at the cat.

“He sure is!” you coo, planting a big, fat kiss on its fluffy head.

You miss the way he narrows his eyes at the feline. “Your drink’s getting cold,” he says, pointing at your neglected cup on the table. “Shouldn’t you finish it while it’s warm?” 

You hold the caracal’s face, its big, round eyes tugging at your heartstrings. “Yup!”

You continue cooing at the cat, massaging its ears. Sylus scowls.

“This café seems to have quite the selection of pastries,” he comments airily, head tilted back as he skims through the barely readable menu above the counter. “Do you have any recommendations?”

That perks you up, snapping your gaze back to him and pausing your petting. “I think they have some seasonal goods this time of the year! I’ll take a look for you. Stay here.”

With that, you get up, sneak in another scratch under the big furball's chin, and take your leave. Once you’re out of earshot, Sylus smirks at the cat, who hisses at him.

“Know your place, little one.”

He’s met with another discontented hiss.

As your eyes trace the elegant cursive of the overhead menu board, you absently note the familiar chime of the café door. Your focus flits from brownies to croissants, savory dishes to frothy lattes, until a featured seasonal s’mores cookie catches your attention. Your mouth waters. Maybe Sylus would like this?

The decision is cut short when you’re abruptly shoved against the counter, the edge biting into your abdomen. A sharp yelp escapes you as pain blooms, forcing your palm to press against the throbbing spot. Rattled, you spin around.

“Excuse me—“

The words die on your tongue.

Standing before you is a man in a crisp white button-up, the sleeves rolled neatly above his forearms. He must be important—if the expensive-looking suit jacket draped over his shoulder is anything to go by. 

But it’s not the over-gelled hair, the tacky accent color of his suit pieces, his inability to use his inside voice in a small café, nor his apparent lack of spatial awareness that has you frozen in place.

This is the guy that killed your family.

You're sure of it.

You can’t be mistaken. How can you be mistaken? 

That smirk—cocky and insufferable—has been seared into your memory since the day you sat in that cramped police room, papers shaking in your hands as his lawyer delivered their settlement offer. You’ve never fully remembered the details of that day, but the sinister curl of his lips as he shook your hand would haunt you till the day you die.

He’s talking. Laughing. With a woman at his side and a man on the other. Maybe they’re his colleagues? You’re not sure.

You’re going to be sick.

Ears ringing, you hold a hand out as you move to the café’s door. The dull gleam of the sun registers faintly, along with the jagged pattern of the sidewalk bricks and the discarded, empty cup beneath a bush. As you stumble outside, the cool air bites sharply, unforgiving against your exposed skin.

Then you’re in the alley, doubled over by the dumpster, heaving until there’s nothing left but bile and ragged breaths.

What are you doing?

You know time doesn't stop. It never has, and it never will—not even in the face of mortal loss. The world doesn’t get to pause for your grief; people will still go to work, teachers will still hold their classes, the sun will still rise, and people will still find joy and laughter in their everyday lives. Death is inevitable and universal. Some face it sooner, some in ways more cruel than others—but in the end, it claims everyone.

You know this. You know this.

So why does it feel like your graduation day all over again?

You don’t know how long you’ve been hunched over, knees and palms pressing painfully against the rough concrete. Gradually, the ringing in your ears begins to subside, and you slowly discern the distant garble of words behind you and the grounding hold on your back.

“...You’re okay. I’m here, sweetie. Come back to me. You're okay.”

Large, calloused hands cradle your jaw with careful tenderness, gently guiding you to meet a pair of worried scarlet eyes. The moment your unfocused gaze regains some semblance of clarity, he lets out a slow exhale, the cold air puffing around him.

“There you are,” he murmurs, smiling slightly.

“...Sylus?”

He traces a finger along your cheek. “Did something happen?”

The spell breaks, and a wave of heat rises up your neck as you finally register your form on the ground, your unpleasant mess just beside you. Worse, you’ve inconvenienced him. And for what? For some overreaction to a man you had already agreed to settle things with?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” you say with a shaky laugh, trying to push yourself up. But your knees give way, and you collapse back onto the ground. Shuddering from the impact of the cold, wet concrete, you flash him an embarrassed smile. “I, uh, might need a few more moments.”

Without a word, he lifts you by the armpits, a startled squeak escaping you as he effortlessly cradles you in his arms. He gently guides you to sit on one solid bicep, then scoops up your fallen bag with his free hand. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

“Wait—”

“You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he says as he begins his trek toward his parked SUV. “You’re not obligated to explain yourself to anyone.”

Your breath catches. He opens the door to the passenger seat and carefully lowers you onto the plush leather. Leaning down, he meets your gaze, his forearm resting on the roof’s edge.

“But know that you don’t deserve to have your feelings or experiences downplayed—especially not by yourself.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Sylus settles into the driver's seat, the engine purring to life as he starts the drive, presumably toward your house. He must be thinking that a familiar, comforting place would be best for you right now.

A wave of guilt washes over you for cutting your time together short, especially since you were really looking forward to surprising him with that s’mores cookie. But the words won’t come, lodged tight in your throat.

By the time you reach your neighborhood, the sky has darkened. Just as he pulls up, ready to open his door, you reach out, placing your hand on his forearm.

"Sylus, I..."

Your voice falters.

To your surprise, he takes your hand in his, his fingers brushing over yours in a gentle caress. He doesn’t rush you. No hint of impatience. Just a quiet, comfortable presence, giving you the space to breathe and find your words.

Slowly, you tell him everything.

Keeping his earlier words in mind, you tell the facts as they are, your emotions as they unfolded. You describe the accident, how it happened, and the events that followed—the pressure to accept the settlement offer, the intimidation. You talk about the loneliness that set in, the growing distance between you and those you once felt close to, all because their happiness became too much to bear. How the world kept moving, while you felt trapped in the same place, stuck in time.

You talk about how you saw the driver again in the café earlier, how it resurfaced all those unpleasant memories and unearthed emotions you’d buried. Despite his advice on not minimizing yourself, you let an apology slip for letting things get to you and cutting your hangout short as a result.

You don’t tell him, but his presence in your life—albeit unexpected and fairly new—has done wonders in pulling back the heavy darkness weighing you down. You hope the depth of your gratitude comes across in the way you hold his hand, gripping it tightly, like it’s the only thing keeping you from sinking.

“Wow, I feel much better,” you finally say, laughing shakily at how silly your earlier reaction seems now. You squeeze his hand gently. “Thanks for listening to me, Sy. I really appreciate it.”

You miss the way his eyes flash at the nickname.

You watch as he examines your reddened eyes and watery lashes, his expression unreadable, before squeezing your hand in return. “I’m just honored that you trusted me enough to share that with me.”

You muster a grin. “I promise to make up for earlier. I've been dying to try this new recipe I found. How about a box of experimental cookies?”

After a brief pause, he lets out a low chuckle. “As long as it’s edible,” he says, lips curling into a smirk, effectively dissipating the lingering tension.

You give his arm a soft whack. “You’re gonna regret it when they turn out actually good!”

He sighs, gazing at where you swat at him with faux pity. “What, with that little kitten pat?”

After a few rounds of bickering—with you insisting that it was not a little kitten pat—you finally exchange your goodbyes. Stepping out of his SUV, you wave cheekily, heading toward your doorstep. He returns the gesture, his wave a little slower, as he waits for you to reach the door.

As soon as you turn your back, the bright scarlet in his eyes dulls to a dangerous crimson hue, black-red tendrils barely contained within a closed fist.

—

You stare up at the building in front of you, mouth agape.

At least eight stories high, its grandeur is impossible to miss, even amidst the notable luxury shops and high-end establishments of the uptown plaza. Massive windows stretch across the facade, their panes glinting like polished gems in the late afternoon light. At its center, a grand arched entrance commands attention, flanked by twin marble columns with gold detailing. The architecture is reminiscent of those vintage and timeless mansions you always see on royalty-themed documentaries.

Discreetly, you pull out your phone to scroll through your conversation with Sylus, double-checking the maps link he sent.

[You] sy!! [You] the cookies turned out pretty good!! [You] i wanna give you some [You] should we meet up?? [fruit man] Congrats on the successful outcome of your baking experiment sweetie. [fruit man] When do you want to hand them over? [You] i was thinking today if it’s ok! they taste best while they’re still fresh [fruit man] I might run late due to a meeting. why don’t you head here while theres still light out? [fruit man] We can go have dinner after. [fruit man] fruit man sent you a link. [You] oooh is this the place you’re staying at? [fruit man] Its an old guest lodging I run. [fruit man] Its convenient for whenever I have business in Linkon.

You stare at the screen incredulously, then glance back up at the towering behemoth before you. This is the old guest lodging he was talking about? You’re no lodging connoisseur, but you’re pretty sure this is a five-star hotel.

Deciding not to question it further lest you get a headache, you square your shoulders and step inside.

Immediately, you feel like an outsider as you pass through the elegant interior, your gaze flitting between the extravagant glass chandelier and the plush velvet sofas in the vast lounge area. Even the guests moving about look like they own at least three vacation homes around the world, like they spend their weekends at the golf club for fun.

A staff member approaches to greet you, her gloved hands neatly clasped as she dons an excellent customer service smile.

“Welcome to the Noir Manor! Do you have a reservation?”

“Um, no." Crap, even your voice sounds out of place. "But I’m here for Sylus?”

Her eyes widen. She reaches into the pocket of her work skirt and pulls out a small notebook, swiftly scanning its pages. She reads your name aloud, her eyes flicking to you for confirmation.

“That’s me, yes,” you say, fingers fiddling with the handle of your wooden picnic basket.

Without missing a beat, she pulls a walkie-talkie from her breast pocket.

“Attention, over. We’ve got white dove in the lobby. Please be advised. Over.”

She then tucks the device back and turns to you with a more genuine smile.

"Mr. Sylus is currently in a meeting on the top floor, but he’ll be finishing shortly. Please, make yourself comfortable in the lounge area in the meantime."

You don’t need to be told twice. The wide lobby space and high ceilings are starting to make you feel claustrophobic. After relaying your thanks, you beeline for the single sofa chair at the farthest end.

You’re content enough just admiring the impressive architecture and interior design of the place, but strangely, hotel staff keep coming up to you every few minutes, bringing fresh pastries and tea. They also keep bringing in soft throw pillows, helping you settle more comfortably in your comically large seat. The attention has you mortified—both from the employees and the guests casting furtive glances at the table they brought over, laden with your private snack spread.

Desperate to shake off your nerves, you scan the room again, your eyes immediately locking onto the massive widescreen TV mounted on the pillar near the lobby desk. It’s muted, but the bold headlines and auto-generated captions on the news report are more than enough for you to follow along.

You barely make out the words flashing across the screen. Something about the new CEO of a prominent national bank chain drunk driving down the highway and crashing into a streetlight pole. The family has apparently urged the local police to investigate for foul play, citing the unnaturally high speed he was driving. An image of the driver flashes on screen.

You stand up abruptly, your pulse hammering in your ears.

It's the guy at the café.

Your family’s killer.

He’s dead.

“There better not be a missing cookie in there,” an amused voice says from behind you, making you jump.

Sylus. He’s wearing a patterned maroon button-up. Normally, the exposed collarbone beneath his inner white shirt would have you looking away, heat rising to your cheeks. But you're too stunned by what you’ve just learned to even register it.

Your thousand-yard stare has him frowning. He rests a hand on your shoulder, the other tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“Everything alright, kitten?”

Words catch in your throat as you weakly point a finger toward the TV, the report now showing a live interview with the former CEO—the driver’s father. Apparently, they’re filing for bankruptcy by the end of next year’s first quarter and are asking for prayers during their difficult time.

You don’t see Sylus’ face, your eyes drifting in and out of focus on the gold pendant of his necklace. Instead, you feel him gently guide your head against his chest, a hand softly patting your back in a soothing rhythm.

“If anything, he had it coming.”

The vibration of his voice hums against your ear, and you exhale, your eyes fluttering shut. "It just feels surreal, I guess," you mumble, your hands hanging limply at your sides. "I mean, I just saw him, what, two weeks ago?"

A brief silence hangs between you before he pulls back, carefully cupping your cheeks and guiding your bleary gaze to meet the intense scarlet of his.

“How about showing me what you've made for me? I've been looking forward to tasting it with you all afternoon.”

You nod absentmindedly, allowing him to guide you to the private elevator concealed behind the lobby desk. With your bow-adorned basket in one hand, he flicks a finger over his shoulder. Instantly, the staff moves with practiced ease, swiftly tidying up your previous spot in the lounge.

As the elevator doors close and begin their ascent to his office on the top floor, he gently coaxes you out of your dazed state, sharing stories about a fishing excursion he recently took up north. He laments his lack of catch during the three-day trip, especially since it was supposed to be the prime season for a rare species in the area.

Had you been more present, you would’ve noticed that, despite his apparently horrendous luck, he seems awfully chipper.

note: i'm 6 parts in and i still can't decide on a title 🧍‍♀️

nav: one, two, three, four, five, six (current) or: read on ao3

tag list: @thepotatoislost, @xxfaithlynxx, @browneyedgirl22, @vorfreudevortex, @midiplier, @wisteriaflowersss, @euclase0, @leighsartworks216, @keyiswatching, @goldenbirdiee, @delaythings, @datura109, @iloveboysinred, @everythingistaken00, @moonlight-inthe-sea, @blueberrysquire, @mourning-into-dancing, @bookfreakk, @everywherenothere, @vvhira, @laidenbreecatchall, @kyushii, @lucifer-says-hii, @sylus-crow, @carmelves, @nishayuro, @comatosebunny09, @withering-dream, @rmjace2, @tinnyrabbit, @socutesotall

check out my other works!

[krosiefics]

midnight grind • minsung x reader

MDNI 18+

Synopsis: One night after watching a movie, Minho comes out of the shower to see his two best friends getting off to each other-

WC: 1.7k

Tags: SMUT!, afab!reader, softdom!minho, bsf!minho, switch!jisung, bsf!jisung, college au, piv, same hole double penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it), pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess), light degradation, fingering (f receiving), threesome, best friends to idk???, kinda somnophilia, grinding, dry humping, masturbation (m), probably forgetting some…but yeah

A/N: I’m soooo sorry for being absent these past few months, schools a bitch and it’s midterms week this week- BUT I’ve been making this as an apology<333

The sound of rain hitting against the glass panels echoed through your apartment. Static noises came from the TV as yet another jumpscare had your best friend flinching onto one of you. Earlier in the evening, you had invited your best friends, Minho and Jisung, to watch a horror movie. Little did you know that Jisung would be so jumpy anytime the music would even crescendo. The three of you were cuddled up on your bed, you in the middle with your friends on either side.

“Tsk,” A voice from your right scoffs, “you’re so jumpy Ji.” You giggle at Minho’s words, Jisung simply glared about to protest but the monster showed up out of nowhere and scared him again, causing a yelp from the round-cheeked boy. Within the span of the last fifteen minutes of the movie, Jisung had flinched at least ten times, causing you and Minho to shake your heads at him. Shortly after the movie ended you went to your bathroom to brush your teeth before returning to bed. Jisung had already showered before coming over, so he just followed suit by rinsing his mouth with mouthwash.

It’s not unusual for your friends to stay over, nor to sleep with you in your bed- you all have been best friends since freshman year of high school, now you’re college juniors almost ready to take on the world. “I’m gonna rinse off, that's cool?” Minho says after both you and Jisung had returned to bed. “Yeah sure,” You assure, “there’s a pile of clothes you guys have left in the basket by the wall.” Minho nods at your words, turning to your bathroom and shutting the door behind him. “Night Ji.” You sigh, covering yourself with your comforter. Jisung hums at you. You doubt he’s actually gonna fall asleep anytime soon, he’s probably too scared if anything.

Water splashes against the titles in your bathroom, adding a white noise to your room- causing you to fall asleep rather quickly. Jisung peers down at you with a soft smile, “Cute.” He thinks to himself as you snuggle against his side. Five minutes pass and Minho is still in the shower. Your leg has made its way onto Jisung’s hip while the latter scrolls through his phone. Jisung is just about to finally nod off to sleep like you, but the feeling of your hips rolling against his leg catches him by surprise. Jisung brushes it off, not until a small whine slips from your mouth accompanied by another roll of your hips. Jisung is bright red- you would tease the shit out of him if you could see him right now.

Jisung moves his arms to move your leg off of him because he can feel himself getting hard- and god forbid you wake up, the both of you would be embarrassed.

“Ji-“ you whimper into the side of his chest. Fuck, he was hard. “Shit,” Jisung curses under his breath as your hips continue rubbing against his thigh. His hands creep down into his sweatpants, freeing his aching cock. Jisung starts pumping his cock to the same pace as the roll of your hips. Jisung lolled his head back against the headrest, biting his lip to keep his noises down. Unbeknownst to him, the shower had shut off and the knob of the bathroom door twisted open. “What the fuck?”

Jisung's head snaps to the direction of Minho who stood in the doorframe, eyes wide at the scene before him. You splayed out asleep on Jisung as the younger’s hand was fisted around his cock. Since you were under the covers, Minho couldn’t see how you were practically humping Jisung’s leg. “Min- ah.” Jisung’s voice cracked as he felt your cunt throb against his thigh, he could feel the heat radiating off of you, hell he could feel your wetness on his thigh. Minho just stared at his friend, an unreadable expression on his face. “Min- she’s- oh my god!” Jisung’s eyes screwed shut as he felt his climax near. “Ji, she’s asleep!” Minho whisper-shouts as the brown haired boy. Jisung couldn’t care less about how inappropriate his actions were at the moment, all that he could think about was how your cunt felt against his leg. Jisung grabs the edge of the comforter and throws it off of his and your body, showing Minho what was happening.

Minho went red just like Jisung had earlier. “Oh.” he breathes when he sees Jisung’s thigh between your legs and you shamelessly rutting against it. “Fuck Min-“ Jisung stares at his older friend. “She feels so good on my leg- shit.” A rush of heat goes straight to Minho’s cock in his sleep shorts, his cock starting to twitch inside. Minho inches closer ever so slightly, his knee dipping the weight of the mattress. The elder boy glances down at your flushed body and Jisung’s erotic expression. He gulps as he shifts into bed behind you. Minho places some distance between you, not wanting to immediately be on you- he felt more comfortable on your behalf that way. “Hmm.” You whined in your sleep, you stretched awkwardly, arching your back. Minho froze as your ass brushed against his bulge. Jisung watches with hazed eyes as Minho bites his lip at the feeling. You turn your head towards Minho’s direction which startles the said boy. Your eyes are still closed but you start grinding backwards onto his crotch now, your chest heaving at each rut.

“Oh my fuck.” Jisung cursed as strings of white cum leak from his tip. Your eyes flutter open as Jisung twitches next to you. Minho’s eyes meet yours as you stir awake. “Minnie?” You grunt, your hand reaching to his hair. The black haired boy’s breaths are uneven as you glance down at his lips. “Touch me, please.” You whine. Your words snap Minho out of whatever trance he was in, his hands are immediately on your ass, squishing you between him and Jisung. You turn your gaze to the other body of heat that is smooshed against you, and there Jisung is, huffing out his breath as his face scans yours for permission of some sort.

You gasp out when you feel Minho grinding his cock against your ass and Jisung’s hands slowly traveling up your curves.

You suddenly grip Jisung’s shirt, pulling him into a rough kiss. His lips fit against yours as his hands grasp at your hips. You gasp into the kiss as Minho’s hot breath spreads across the side of your neck. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this, squirming beneath us.” You groan into Jisung’s mouth before he starts peppering kisses down your neck, nipping at random spots along your collarbone. “This okay?” Minho asks, his hand trailing around your hip bone towards your cunt. “God, fuck yes please.” You moan, leaning towards the eldest for a kiss. The cat-eyed boy reciprocates, lip licking at yours, tugging at your bottom lip once his fingers make contact with your throbbing cunt.

Moans pour out of your mouth as the two boys grind into you, lips feverishly attached to as much of you as possible. Minho’s fingers move along your wet folds before dipping his fingers into your cunt. Your legs instinctively clench around him but Jisung holds them open for him. “Nuh uh,” Jisung smirks down at you, his thumb rubbing circles at your clit. You throw your head back erotically, moans won’t stop pouring from your lips. Minho works his fingers in and out of you as Jisung watches you wiggle under the two of them.

“Minnie please.” You beg, your legs beginning to shake as you near your climax. Suddenly, both boys pull their hands away from your throbbing cunt. Minho shoots Jisung a look, to which the younger gulps, nodding dumbly at the elder. The sound of the covers rustling made you hold your breath with anticipation. A warm tip poked at your entrance, thrusting in slightly. You gasp out as Minho slowly inches inside you, Jisung holding your legs open for him.

With each thrust your moans break, your mouth falling open at the feeling. Your walls clenched around him as he hit your g-spot straight on. “Ji.” Your friend’s voice echoes from behind. You glance at the round cheeked boy, waiting to see what’s gonna happen. “You okay with this?” Minho huffs by your ear as Jisung lines his cock up with your entrance alongside Minho’s. A staggered moan escapes your mouth instead of a proper answer, but Jisung takes the go ahead by your frantic nodding. “Fuck you’re such a slut for us sweetheart.” Minho grunts, his hot breath fanning along your neck.

“Oh my fucking god!” You yelp, your hands flying to Jisung’s shoulders, nailing digging into the material of his shirt. A pair of hands wrap around your midriff as another pair hoists your leg slightly higher. Minho hisses in your ear as Jisung groans. The feeling is definitely weird, but in a good way. You feel so full of both of them. “You can move.” Your two friends lock eyes over your shoulder, thrusting into you slowly before picking up the pace. “God you’re so sexy princess.” Jisung moans breathily.

The two of them keep assaulting your g-spot, never letting you rest. “Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” You cry, legs shaking with pleasure. “Yeah baby?” Minho teases, his hand sliding down to your clit. The stimulation spills you over the edge to an orgasm. “Holy shit.” You whine, overstimulation washing over your body as the two continue thrusting. “I know, baby. We’re almost there” Jisung reassures before spilling his hot cum into you. The feeling of your continuous clenching and Jisung’s cum combined drive Minho right into his climax, mixing his cum with Jisung’s inside you.

“Holy fuck…we just did that.” You blink, chest heaving. The three of you chuckle as the boys pull out of you slowly. “I guess we did.” Minho smirks to himself, “You okay though sweetheart?” You flush at the pet name despite him using it during…that. “Yeah, I’m great.”

“Well I think I’ll be able to sleep now thanks to you.” Jisung sighs, snuggling into your chest comfortably. You peer down at him with an amused smile. Your best friends sure are something else.

@katsukis1wife @pixie0627

[jungwnies]

roommate from hell - oscar piastri (2/5)

୨ৎ : pairing : oscar piastri x gn!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : forced into an accidental roommate situation, oscar and you struggle with clashing habits, sarcastic banter, and unexpected tension…until frustration turns into something much deeper.

୨ৎ : genre : romantic comedy & light angst (barely...) ୨ৎ : tws : forced proximity, mild conflict, emotional tension, and mutual pining. ୨ৎ : wc : 813

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : you guys the love and support i've been getting on this series literally makes me so happy and motivates me so so so much, i can't wait to finish it up shortly and have all the chapters out within the following weeks <3 i love you all so muchhh!!

Living with Oscar Piastri was a test of patience.

Not because he was loud, or messy, or the type of roommate who left dirty dishes in the sink for days. No, that would have been easier to deal with.

Oscar was the opposite, too neat, too quiet, too good at being passively annoying in ways that weren’t technically wrong but still managed to drive you up the wall.

Three days in, and you had barely seen him outside of the occasional pointed glance when you left a blanket unfolded or turned the TV volume up too high. He had his own schedule, waking up ridiculously early, disappearing for most of the day, coming back late at night, and somehow managing to leave no trace of his existence in the apartment.

You would almost think he wasn’t living there at all.

Except for the silent war unfolding between you.

It started small. You noticed how your things on the bathroom counter would shift slightly each morning, your toothbrush moved just an inch to the left, your skincare bottles rearranged like they were being judged. Then there was the thermostat battle, where you’d turn it up one degree warmer only to find it adjusted back down the next time you checked. The first time your music mysteriously disconnected from the Bluetooth speaker, you thought it was a glitch. The second time, you knew it wasn’t.

In retaliation, you swapped his sugar with salt. He noticed immediately, gave you a long, unimpressed stare, and poured himself a new cup of coffee without a word. You thought that was the end of it until you found all of your laundry neatly folded but with one sock missing from each pair.

It was all so petty.

And yet, neither of you stopped.

The turning point happened when you made the grievous mistake of drinking the last can of Monster Energy in the fridge.

It had been sitting there all day, untouched, practically begging to be taken. You weren’t even a big energy drink person, but the satisfaction of claiming something you knew Oscar would want later was too good to pass up. So you grabbed it, cracked it open, and took a long, slow sip, savoring the taste of victory.

You had no regrets, but that was until Oscar walked into the kitchen and stared at the empty can in your hand.

"You did not just drink my last Monster," he said flatly.

You took another sip. "Oh, I definitely did."

His eyes narrowed. "You don’t even like energy drinks."

“I do now,” you said, lifting the can like a toast.

Oscar exhaled through his nose, glaring like you had personally offended him. "Unbelievable."

"Consider it compensation for the psychological damage you’ve caused me."

He didn’t say anything else, just grabbed his keys and left the apartment without another word. You grinned to yourself, thinking you had won this round.

You should have known better.

That night, when you went to grab something from the fridge, you discovered that everything you liked, your favorite snacks, your iced coffee, even the leftovers you had been looking forward to, were gone.

In their place, the fridge was fully stocked with only Monster Energy.

You stood there, staring at it, before calling out, "OSCAR."

Silence.

Then, from his bedroom, came a smug, "What?"

"You’re a child."

"I’m just preparing for your new energy drink addiction."

You slammed the fridge shut. "I hate you."

"Don’t drink my Monster next time."

The pettiness continued, but somewhere along the way, it softened.

Maybe it was the way Oscar started making two cups of coffee in the morning instead of one and never mentioning it, just leaving an extra mug on the counter for you. Maybe it was how you began grocery shopping together out of convenience, turning bickering over cereal brands into something weirdly normal. Maybe it was how, despite all the arguing, you realized you actually liked having him around.

One evening, you both ended up on the couch watching a reality show neither of you would admit to being invested in. It was late, the apartment quiet except for the background noise of contestants arguing over some ridiculous challenge. You felt yourself growing tired, curling up under your blanket, struggling to keep your eyes open.

At some point, without thinking, you let your head drop onto Oscar’s shoulder.

You felt him tense slightly but didn’t move away. There was no sarcastic remark, no dramatic sigh of protest, just a brief pause before he shifted, letting you settle against him more comfortably.

You mumbled something incoherent, too tired to care about what was happening, and Oscar just… stayed still.

For a moment, everything was quiet.

Then, barely above a whisper, he muttered, "…I don’t hate you, you know."

You wanted to reply. You wanted to ask him what the hell that was supposed to mean. But sleep was already pulling you under, and before you could react, everything faded to black.

taglist : @sugarfreerbr , @no-144444 , @window-to-nothing , @judelina , @littlegrapejuice , @formulaal , @spikershoyo , @eclipsedcherry , @whispersofthewild , @1-queenofpotatoes-1 , @obxstiles , @poppysrin , @a-beaverhausen , @blakebearsblog , @fastandcurious16 , @imdyinghelpplease , @reginalaufeyson-holmes , @percy-jackson-fan909 | (comment to be added ... bolded couldn't be tagged)

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[namfinessed]

ex-things - m.yg.

genre: angst (after breakup!) (4.8k)

summary: over the years, everything you've owned has belonged to yoongi and everything yoongi's owned has belonged to you but when you break up, everything is your's and everything is his but none of it belongs to the two of you anymore and both of you can't stand it.

masterlist

-

“scarf,” you say as soon as yoongi appears at the door, you fail to hide your smile when he throws his head back in exasperation and throws the door open.

you push past him and enter his apartment which looked…exactly the same.

but then again, you did just break up some ten minutes ago so, of course, it would be the same.

you don’t know why you expected the universe to shift just because your heart was broken.

and as you throw back the cushions on his sofa, push the things on his coffee table, look under the sofa and table, and walk past him to check the coat rack and then the kitchen, you feel his piercing gaze following your every step.

you knew where it was.

it was in your bedroom.

or well, his bedroom now.

“can you hurry the fuck up?” he groans and in that second, you eye the black plastic cover filled with two or three soju bottles sitting on his kitchen counter.

you swallow and yell back, “can you just let me look for my scarf in peace?”

another groan.

a stomp on the floor.

“fuck, i’ll mail it to you,” yoongi makes his way into the kitchen with loud steps and you arch your eyebrow at him, then look towards the green bottles shining on his counter, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and spits out, “i was going to drink today before anything ever happened, don’t feel too special.”

“really?” you muse, clinking them against each other, and in the next second, yoongi’s hand is wrapped around your wrist and he’s pulling you, gently, towards the door.

“i’ll send it when i find it,” he murmurs as he pushes your coat, your car keys, and your phone into your hands, and you don’t say anything for a while.

you clutch your belongings and stand by the door until you notice how yoongi's eyes are bloodshot, their usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. his shoulders rounded with an invisible weight, and you feel guilty for leaving.

“a-are you okay?” you ask, it feels stupid to ask because you know, you were the same as him.

he laughs bitterly and throws you a glare, you notice how his hands tremble beside his body, and you look away to save him and yourself from the pain of asking again.

“i just broke up with my girlfriend of three years, so yeah, i’m doing fantastic,” he breathes out, you wonder if it pains him like it’s paining you to hear his words, “now, can you leave?” yoongi gestures towards the door again.

you sigh, “wait a minute,” and enter your his home again.

“what now?” he throws his hands in the air and stomps after you.

he watches you grab the scarf from under his bed, he turns his eyes away when he sees your hands shaking while holding it, “did you know where it was?” yoongi breathes out, his face and voice in disbelief.

you don’t say anything again.

and when you leave, he pours himself glass over glass to forget the trembling of your jaw and how you paced around the apartment while knowing exactly where you kept the scarf.

he laughs again, the sound is strange, rough, and just wrong without your laugh chiming with him.

he pours himself a glass again.

-

it’s been a week.

“hi,” you say as yoongi walks into his house, he jumps a little, clutching his chest as his eyes widen to look for you.

you raise a hand to wiggle your fingers at him as a ‘hello, hi, ex-boyfriend, you’re back at your home and so am i!’ and yoongi blinks.

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“oh, i was loo-“

“wait wait, how did you even get in?” yoongi frantically marched to his front door and twisted the knob to check for any damages and you roll your eyes.

“i found your key under the potted plant. speaking of which, do you want to get robbed or something, why would you even put it there?” you throw your hands in the air as you sip tea, grimacing as the strange, bitter taste of yoongi’s favorite green tea spreads in your mouth.

“first of all, stop drinking my tea, you don’t even like it” you put the cup down with a sheepish smile and fold your hands on the table.

“and second of all, i didn’t think i had to worry about any ex-girlfriends breaking in, my bad,” yoongi complains loudly and you press your palms to your ears, shaking your head, “i’m not even here to see you, i’m here for…well, i’m here for,” you struggle to finish the sentence.

and yoongi glares at you.

“what is it?” as he moves his head to pin his glare on you, his soft, freshly straightened hair moves with him.

“straightener!” you say loudly, clapping your hands, and yoongi’s eyebrows narrow again, “you’re going to get wrinkles, yoongi.” you point at his eyebrows but he doesn’t let up, you’re sure that his eyebrows furrowed deeper.

“okay! i’ll be on my way once i get that,” you wander off into his bedroom and yoongi throws his head back in exasperation.

your straightener is easy to find because well, it’s not yours, it’s his and it’s just sitting on his vanity but yoongi doesn’t bat an eye at that.

he only watches you move around his home with his arms crossed on his chest and an unreadable satisfaction on his face.

and when you leave, you can’t help but notice that for all his annoyance, he never tells you to not come back, and he never tells you to find everything you own and leave at once.

with that knowledge, you leave his home with the biggest grin on your face.

-

“you need to get out before my booty call gets here,” you happily eat your ice cream on the kitchen counter as yoongi walks into your home as if he owned it.

did you mention that he was the one to bring you ice cream?

your favorite too, one scoop of hazelnut and one scoop of brownie.

“ha ha, very funny, you should start thinking of a career in stand-up” he responds with a roll of his eyes and you giggle even more, sliding down to catch up with his pace around your home.

“what are you here for?”

“t-shirt, you know the one you stole,” yoongi shrugs and glares again, walking right into your room and you follow with hands closed behind your back, “which one?” you muse as you remember all the (10) t-shirts you’ve stolen from him.

he looks back as he nears the closet, eyes narrowing at you, “how many do you have?”

“how many can you remember that i have?”

yoongi groaned in sheer frustration and you crawled on your bed, watching him pick apart your closet, and glaring at you whenever he found one of his t-shirts in there.

for a moment, it was amusing.

it was the funniest thing to watch yoongi get annoyed, you always enjoyed it.

but in the next moment, when he was around his fifth t-shirt, you felt this ache slowly develop in your chest and spread across your throat and then your mouth, then it was everywhere.

it was this dull throbbing that you couldn’t shake and your eyes dropped to fiddle with your fingers instead of looking at him, collecting his belongings from your home.

because, just two weeks ago, it had been your t-shirts too, hadn’t they? and it wasn’t just your home then, it was yours and his, wasn’t it? sure, you had separate apartments but it never felt like that, it felt like you had two homes and both homes belonged to both of you.

and now, you only had one.

you had wrapped your arms around his back when he was in your room two weeks ago, he was here now but you couldn’t even touch a hair on his head without feeling like you’ve crossed a line.

your head was starting to collect the ache and make a home for it so you ask, “are you almost done?”

you didn’t mean to ask him that, you actually very, very badly wanted yoongi never to leave so you could believe again, ‘i have two homes, i have two toothbrushes, two mugs, two keys, two doors, and two of everything’ but yoongi pauses, he collects the t-shirts he found and nods, “yeah, i’m done.”

when he walks out of your room, the ache finally takes over your head and you follow him with dazed eyes and stumbling feet.

at the door, yoongi stops, he turns around with concern brimming in his eyes and that is enough for your hands to shake again, “you good?”

“i just broke up with my boyfriend of three years, so yeah, i’m doing fantastic,” you deepen your voice to mimic his and yoongi shakes his head with a small laugh, “you better be okay,” he says at the end, and his voice is so soft, it feels like cotton pressed into your cheeks.

and you nod because if yoongi says you have to be okay, you’ll find a way to be okay.

but when he leaves, you are back to having just one home, with one toothbrush in the bathroom, one mug in the kitchen, one set of keys in your purse, one door, and one of everything else.

and you’re sorry to yoongi.

because you don’t know if you can be okay.

-

a couple days passed again.

you had an angry yoongi pacing in front of you as you watched.

“you’re being ridiculous,” yoongi shoves a hand through his hair, glaring at you as you sit with arms across your chest and refusing to look at him.

“i’m not,” you huff out and he rolls his eyes.

he did that a lot.

he did that a lot with you.

“i didn’t steal your plushie, are you fucking kidding me?” yoongi whines and walks away into the kitchen to pour himself a drink.

you follow him and right at the doorway, you don’t enter, you just watch his even more sunken eyes and even more rounded shoulders with conflicted eyes.

a part of you wanted to hug him.

a part of you wouldn’t mind killing him.

a part of you wanted to kiss his shoulders to lift them.

a part of you wanted to leave a red mark on his face.

but all parts of you, you couldn’t trust or believe.

these past few days, you couldn’t trust or believe anything actually.

yoongi senses your eyes on him, he knows how you look at him and how you seem to show so much with just a gaze but he holds strong.

you were broken up.

you shouldn’t be here.

hell, he’s not sure if he should be here or not either.

but he betrays himself over and over again, he lets you into his house and you let him into yours, and he feels ridiculous every time he closes your door, he’s not sure what you feel when you close his.

“i threw it away,” he shrugs his shoulders, eye muscles tensing oddly, he’s not sure if you notice or not.

“what?” your whisper is so quiet, yoongi wouldn’t have known you were speaking if he didn’t see your lips moving.

“i threw it, okay? there was no use of it being around here anymore, so i fucking threw it away,” he didn’t mean for his voice to be loud, and he didn’t mean for his words to hurt but maybe he did, maybe he wanted to hurt you.

but he loves you?

but he’s also okay with hurting you.

to an extent.

yoongi had never understood why he couldn’t love properly, why his love for others and himself had to hold a touch of pain, a touch of misery, but it was always out of his control.

it had been different with you.

for a while, that is.

but he was back to his roots now, pain and misery and love and affection held his hands and danced around him.

and he had to dance with them too.

“i threw it,” he repeated, but your plushie was tucked into his pillows, into his sleep, and into his days and nights.

it was stained with salty tears now, it was stained with the ice cream he ate after he left your home, and he didn’t want you to see it.

for a moment, you both didn’t even twitch in the wrong direction, yoongi watched the dark liquid in his cup with growing intensity and you waited for him to tell you that your plushie was safe.

“fine,” you sniffled, grabbing your coat and stomping to the door and yoongi followed, he tried not to but his feet walked ahead of his mind.

at the door, you angrily shoved your feet into your sneakers and pushed your hair out of your face, as if to prove that you weren’t crying, that you weren’t affected and anyone else would believe you.

but yoongi knows you.

and he knows your red nose and cheeks can only mean one thing.

before you close his door, you say, “you’re a horrible person, yoongi.”

he thinks he knows what you feel when you close his door now.

hatred.

-

you swore to yourself that that would be the last time you turn up at his place, but you had genuinely forgotten something there and needed it this time, so you swallowed your pride and rang his doorbell.

you don’t greet him when he opens the door and yoongi feels like he could fall to his knees when you shove a bag with his favorite ice cream, matcha, and coffee (he’s a caffeine guy, he runs on it), into his hands and yoongi knows he’s forgiven.

“i forgot my trousers here,” you mumble afterward and head straight into his closet to dig through for the work trousers that you cannot live without.

yoongi doesn’t dare to utter a word, he looks through his closet beside you and apologizes when his skin touches yours in any little way.

you can’t believe there was a time when you would touch him as if his body was yours too and he would touch you the same. but his apologies just dug the truth deeper into your skin, which was that you didn’t belong to him, and he didn’t belong to you.

so, you nod, you bear your cheeks heating up and thighs going weak, and just look through his neatly organized piles of clothes too.

he used to organize your stuff too, he used to section them, fold them, and keep them neatly by his clothes.

that’s how you find your trousers, crisp folds, and fresh-smelling, right beside his work clothes.

and your heart squeezes as you pull it out.

the folds loosen, the trousers limp in your hands, and that small change in its structure, makes you think of yoongi and everything that fell apart with him.

when you leave that day, you pause at the door and whisper, “you’re not horrible, yoongi, but maybe i am, maybe i ruined everything, but please don’t hate me.”

before he can catch you and wipe your tears and tell you that you were right last time, he was the horrible one, he was the one who texted late, who came home late, who missed birthdays, but you were already running away and he was left with a lit cigarette burning his throat.

-

“i swear, it was here,” yoongi shifts the things around your closet, head buried deep in shelves and racks of clothes and shoes, you stand at the doorway with your arms crossed against your chest, trying not to roll your eyes.

“and you have a million other headphones, so i don’t understand why you would need to find this one,” you step into the room and lazily move things around to try and find it too, yoongi scoffs from a few feet away, “it was special to me,” he says and turns his back to you again.

“why?”

“my grandfather gave it to me,” yoongi huffs, and his hands stay busy.

but.

“your grandfather died when you were five,” there was no way his grandpa gave it to him and you know you’ve caught him.

he could’ve at least tried harder with his lies.

it was strange, seeing him here, standing in your bedroom, surrounded by things that no longer belonged to both of you.

you don’t think you’ll ever get over that feeling of loss.

the moisturizer you would’ve shared with him.

the cheap wig that he would wear to make you laugh.

the razor that you would hide to annoy him.

they only belonged to you now.

though you don’t bring up his grandfather to drive him away, you only say it because it was hard for you to understand why he was here, looking for headphones that he could buy tens of pairs of.

he pauses, you wait for him to say something else, or lie about a friend who didn’t exist who gave it to him, lie about his dad giving it to him.

but yoongi doesn’t say anything.

he keeps looking.

you refused to keep anything that touched you in the last three years.

well, except for some things.

“yoongi,” you call out, pointing towards the unopened box in your closet and he turns his head that way, quickly walking over to it and flipping it upside down.

the photo album that carried your first anniversary.

the promise ring that he gave you on your second anniversary.

the matching couple t-shirt which he cringed at but wore whenever he could.

the.

the.

the.

so many the’s and so many first’s and second’s of things that you kept, though ‘kept’ was the wrong word, you treasured these things, you loved them.

and all of them fell on the floor with noise that shook your ears and chest, not because of the volume but because it was like you were pouring your heart in front of him.

but you loved them in the past, you liked to think that you did and you were in the present now, watching yoongi eye the things you gathered without his knowledge.

and all of it was only yours now.

“when did you keep this here?” he asks, and you immediately know he’s asking about the simple diamond ring that everyone thought was your engagement ring.

but it was just a promise ring.

and you removed it when, “that day you didn’t come for my birthday,” you mumbled, picking up the things and putting them back where they belonged.

buried inside a box.

shoved into a closet.

but before, you pull out his headphones from the box and hang it over your head for him to take.

when he takes it, his fingers touch the smallest part of your palm and your eyes gather tears as if rivers were breaking a dam in them.

yoongi stands without saying a word for a long time but then he walks to the door, “you’re not going to close your door?”

you’re not coming to see me off?

you get up unwillingly and walk to the door without sneaking another glance at him and drop the ring into his palm, “bye, yoongi.”

his hands tighten around the band of platinum.

both of you look at the dangly, worn-out wires of his headphones that hang from his other hand.

you had given them to him for your first anniversary.

not his dead grandpa or dad or friend.

it was you.

and both of you refused to acknowledge that fact.

and when yoongi finally leaves, he leaves behind a space in the air that waits for him to come back and take his place again, in your life, in your home, in your space.

but he doesn’t turn back.

and you close the door, letting the space remain.

-

a few days went by again.

neither of you showed up at each other’s doors anymore.

neither of you had anything left to collect.

neither of you had anything that belonged to the other.

and it was strange, the quiet, the loneliness that crept on your back and it always hit at the most unexpected of times.

when you poured your cereal in the morning, you realized you were holding the box that you had bought while grocery shopping with yoongi, it was your favorite time of the month, the one time you could really feel that he was your person.

but the box was empty by the end of your breakfast and you kept it back in the cabinet.

when you arranged your clothes, you saw your messy folding and fell back on the pile of clothes that still needed folding.

how yoongi did this every day, you had no clue.

but as you lay in pieces of cotton, linens, satins, sequins, and many more materials that hugged and pinched you, you couldn’t help but think that surely, yoongi wouldn’t leave you like this, there has to be something of his that you still own.

there has to be something.

so, you got up and with renewed desperate energy, you started searching.

you pulled upon every desk, every closet door, every nook and cranny, you searched with shaking hands and watery eyes.

“there has to be something, there has to be,” you whispered to yourself, your voice choking as things fall over from the tall walls, they fall on your feet, and your toes, and a sharp pain hits you every single time, but you push through.

because.

there has to be something.

you can’t end it like this.

you and yoongi cannot end like this.

anyone else can.

but not you, not him and you.

and the closets you look through stay ajar, the desks you’ve emptied stay tipped over, and everything you own is on the floor.

but there is none of yoongi in any of it.

so, you sink.

you sink to your knees, sobbing and flipping over items as you reach them.

because goddamit, there has to be something.

when the bell first rings, you don’t register it, you are way too intent on the clutter in front of you.

but then it rings.

and rings.

and rings, again and again.

relentless.

and you push yourself up, hoping it’s no one you know because you don’t think you can explain the tears on your face.

but when you open the door, your mouth goes dry and you know you don’t have to explain anything.

because across from you, is a red-eyed yoongi and he’s carrying a box.

“can i come in?” is all he asks, his voice barely a whisper and you’re already opening the door and pulling him in.

but once he’s in your home, in your space again, the familiar soft and sharp scent of him, the sight of him, it was too much. you couldn’t breathe. your eyes never leave him, every breath he took, every shift of his fingers, every fall of his chest, all of it was dancing in your eyes and for the love of god, you couldn’t look away.

he sets the box down and stands there with his hands opening and closing around nothing, and you want to grab them, you want to spread them across your cheeks and feel his warmth, which was sometimes cold too but you didn’t mind, you never minded with yoongi.

but instead, you curl your hands behind your back and stop yourself because it still wasn’t right.

“i don’t have anything of yours,” you start, voice already breaking, “anymore,” you finish with hands tightening so hard around each other that you could feel the bruises blooming on their surface.

“i know,” he takes a sharp inhale of breath and looks away from you and you want to beg him to look at you.

for a second, it’s just you reliving every second you weren’t with him and it’s him looking at your apartment that was void of anything personal, anything that called it a home.

“i want all of it back,” he sniffs, looking at you finally, you want to take it back, you aren’t sure how you survived three years of his eyes only on you and you squeeze your door handle, “all of what?” you whisper, and he sniffs again, “your stuff, all of it, your stupid scarf, your straightener, everything, i want all of it back, in my place, in our place, where it belongs.” he says it so quietly, so earnestly and each word has you pulling your skin tighter.

“your plushie is in this, i never threw it away but i’m taking it back, my t-shirts and headphones are in this, i’m leaving them here,” he bends over the box and starts picking things apart, and each thing he pulls out, fills you with relief.

but.

“but that isn’t right, yoongi,” you try to defend, “we aren’t together anymore,” you hate the words as they surface out of you and yoongi shakes his head.

“but is this right?” he lifts his hands from the box, his jaw trembling again and you instinctively smooth your hand over it and yoongi pushes his face into your hands.

“is it right, both of us miserable?” he whispers and the world bottoms out from underneath you, suddenly gravity is nothing and you’re both floating towards each other.

“but i hurt you,” you grip his headphones and this time, his tears fall the same as yours do, “i hurt you too.” he places a hand on your knees and that cold warmth, that bare touch leaves you open.

“but i’m done, i don’t want to hurt you anymore,” yoongi begs, he shakes his head as he says it as if he can’t believe there was a time that he had hurt you but you’re the same, you can’t believe that you hurt him once.

“before you came here, i was looking for something, anything that was yours so i could come back,” you sniffed loudly, your voice falling and lifting and yoongi listens with eyes that have always looked at you, “but i didn’t find anything, yoongi and it killed me.” your voice fully gives up as you bury your face into your hands and immediately, you feel his arms pulling you into his chest and his hands running down your hair.

“you don’t have to do that anymore, i’m back see,” he tips your face towards him and his smile is so soft, so real that it makes you smile too, “i’m not going anywhere.” he assures you with a kiss on the top of your head and your watery eyes dry out.

“me too, i don’t want this anymore, i want us, i want two of everything, i want you and i want everything,” you utter back to him, the weight of the words floating between you too.

“and you have it, you have everything again, the ring is in there too but that is for whenever you’re ready.” he kisses you again and you snuggle into his embrace, feeling like you’ve lost centuries of holding him, the thought of the ring swells your chest into a balloon that could snap, “that will take time, but thank you,” you whisper, kissing where his shoulders met his neck.

“like i said, whenever you’re ready but it will always belong to you.” yoongi whispers back and you smile in pure delight, nodding along to his words.

“we were stupid for thinking that we could stay apart,” you laugh hesitantly into his chest, the idea of the two of you trying to be separate was ridiculous to you and yoongi laughs with you, which makes you melt into his body, because it was ridiculous, you were two parts of a whole, two houses in a home, two mugs in a kitchen, two keys in your purse, two toothbrushes in one bathroom and two of everything else that you could think of.

and that was how it should’ve been, that was how it was always meant to be.

somewhere in the night, yoongi crawls up your sheets and your plushie is between the two of you and you make fun of him for acting as if he threw it away, he rolls his eyes and shushes you with a kiss.

“by the way, that straightener is yours, not mine,” you whisper and he is aghast, “i fucking knew it,” he yells and sits up, and immediately starts to complain “you know how stupid i’ve been looking with hair that looks just like holly’s!”

and you remind him, playfully this time, that what was yours was his, and what was his was yours and he falls on the bed, grumbling under his breath and complaining until the sun comes up.

and it feels right, everything that belonged to you and him back in their place, back in their homes and yoongi, back in your life, your home, and your space.

just as it should be, just as it was meant to be.

[royalsweetteaa]

Title: Thinking about us all

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - The following story contains: Explicit smut, MMF threesome, petnames (doll, sweetheart), dom/sub/switch roles, establishing polyamory, stucky, bisexual!Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes, oral sex (M/F receiving), cum eating, anal sex, rimjob (M receiving), unprotected sex, P in V/P in A sex, creampie, spitroast, love confessions, fluff, aftercare.

Sequel to: ‘Thinking about her’

Summary: Steve and Bucky finally confess their feelings to their female secretary, and luckily everything goes in their favor.

2nd person POV

It was another day at the Avengers Tower, and you were as per usual at your office handling the two super soldiers’ routine work such as letters and other paper work. Steve and Bucky had appointed a time in the afternoon to have a meeting with you.

While it was just a regular meeting of the week going over important future events they have to be prepared for, you always looked forward to those meetings.

You couldn’t help but thrive in the feelings the two men gave you as you sat alone all three, occasionally talking about personal things like the friends you had grown to be. It felt good, and you thought it was harmless to have a crush on them.

Okay, ‘crush’ could be an understatement, but it was still harmless if you kept it to yourself, right?

It wasn’t like you had expectations of them returning those feelings to you. You could tell what they had lied so deep, there was no way they would leave it for anyone else.

And you were completely fine with that. Seeing the two together made you believe soulmates for life was a real thing, and you looked forward to the day you would find your own.

But until then…

You kicked your feet giddily as you were waiting for the two men to arrive in the empty meeting room. A stack of files were in front of you and you kept a mantra in your head of all the topics you had to inform them about.

They finally came by the door minutes later, apologizing for their slight delay as they sat on each side, putting you in the middle.

You felt butterflies swirl in your stomach as they smiled at you ever so kindly, making small talk of asking how your day was and if you’ve eaten or drank enough water.

You respond saying you’re feeling just fine as you bring forward the folders, a copy for each to look at before you begin going through them.

It was much of the same schedule the super soldiers had followed for months, most importantly noted being that there was an international conference hosted by T’challa on Friday for them to attend to and a gathered Avengers meeting on the weekend.

As you rounded up the report of their upcoming schedule, you looked up at them, expecting that to be the end of the meeting as they thanked you for the report. But as you were about to stand up and conclude the meeting, they stopped you from rising up from your seat.

Bucky and Steve exchange each other confirming glances before they faced you again.

“Y/N, Bucky and I have something important we’d like to share with you…if you aren’t otherwise in a hurry to get home for the evening.” Steve begins.

You stared at him, your heart noticeably skipping a beat from the super soldiers’ ears as you say, “I’m not in a hurry…what’s up, boys?”

“We uh…”

“Well, you see…um…”

The men turn to each other again as if they are now realizing how difficult it is to lay out their confession of love to you compared to how they had imagined it in their heads. You all the meanwhile stared at them dumbfounded, not sure what was going on between them.

“…Is everything okay?” You ask with a hint of worry in your voice. “Has something happened that I should know about?”

“No, - I mean yes, everything is fine, it’s just…” Steve says. “We are a bit nervous to tell you, because…”

“…as it turns out…” Bucky slowly fills in.

“…we have feelings for you, Y/N. Both of us.”

“….Oh…wait, what?” You ask as you pull a double take when you let their words sink in. “How? - But -…aren’t you two together?” You ask the question with a confused frown. “I thought you had each other?”

“Well yes - of course we still love each other but, - we have kind of mutually developed feelings for you. And we aren’t just interested in you for ‘curious’ reasons - we genuinely like you, more like you’ve captivated us beyond just liking you, you know?”

Steve clears his throat as he speaks over Bucky, “What Bucky is trying to say is we both absolutely adore you, - how sweet and caring you are towards us in what feels like is something beyond just your job as a secretary and friend. It has come to us realizing we have more love to share, and we would like to share it with you. But we would also like to take you out on dates first as the three of us to explore our dynamic…with a romantic viewpoint.”

“That is…if you feel the same.” Bucky quickly adds. “Do you?”

You’re left in awe after everything they have told you, and you close your mouth as you try to gather your thoughts. “Wow, I…I’m in shock honestly. I didn’t expect this at all…” you say, causing Steve and Bucky to stiffen as fear starts to settle in on a possible rejection.

Had they read you wrong? Had they misunderstood your physical reactions for something else?

Steve shakes off the worries as he fills the paused silence with a thoughtful reminder, “You can think about it for as long as you’d like. We understand this might be all too overwhelming for you, so if you’d like for us to give you some space while you consider -!”

You shake your head as you dismiss Steve, “Wait, no…I…- truth is, I’ve had a huge crush on both of you for a while. But I never spoke or tried to make a move on any of you because I respect your relationship, and I would never, and I mean never try to ruin what you have. What you have is beautiful and I…” you sigh as your eyes get glossy. “I can’t believe you’re both interested in bringing someone like me into it. Like, do you truly mean that? Because I swear if you’re pulling a prank on me, I’m quitting today -!”

“We’re not!…we promise you that.” Bucky chuckles at your doubts, but also pulls a face of fondness. “And why would you think ‘someone like you’ wouldn’t be perfect for us? Sure, we are the super soldiers here but there’s only one of you in the entire world.”

“We have lived for a very long time and met all kinds of people. We know what we want.” Steve says. “We want you, as much as we want to be yours.”

“So what do you say?” Bucky asks as he gets closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours at the table. “Can you at least give it a chance?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you know already the answer to that, but still you take a moment to give it to them. “I…yes. I absolutely want to give it a chance.” You answer with a bright smile, and you witness as they pull gleeful smiles of their own.

The two men pull you into an embrace, surrounding you with excitement. You chuckle as you welcome them, pulling them closer with your own arms.

“But, that doesn’t mean I’m jumping into bed with any of you on the first week.” You clarify in a playful manner. “I’m not that kind of girl, you know.”

Both men hum as Steve comments, “Of course, we don’t expect any less, doll. I don’t know about Buck but I can wait for as long as you want before doing any of that if it means you’ll be ours.”

Bucky bumps into Steve’s shoulder, huffing, “I can wait too just fine!”

Steve narrows an eyebrow and teasingly replies, “oh really? I seem to remember back on you being particularly needy one night and expressing how -!”

Bucky shoves his palm over Steve’s mouth, making him unable to finish his sentence. “Okay, that’s enough oversharing, Steve…”

Giggles erupt from you and the two men turn to you, smiling somewhat confused.

You shook your head, “Don’t you worry James, I’m not going to lead you on. Just work for it and you might get some of me soon enough. That includes you too, Steve.”

Both men nodded, saying in unison “Yes, ma’am” before they wrapped an arm around each of her side and left to the parking lot to drive off for some more spend together.

The next few weeks consisted of dates in romantic locations and dinners at each other’s places.

As true to the men’s word, they never pressured you into anything, - so much so that you had to engage in your first kisses with them. Kissing would develop into sweet long-drawn kisses, then eventually into full make out sessions.

While they were heated and breathless by the end of it, nothing went beyond of what you wanted and you continued your conversations like it was nothing, - except the noticeable big bulges between their legs said otherwise when they so easily dismissed it.

One night during the usual ‘at home’ dinner though, you felt you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer either from what you desired, and one thing led to another involving the new founded throuple relationship.

You were on your knees, bare as the two men had gloried over your body earlier, seeing you bare for the first time. You had to stop them from taking it further as you were eager to please them first and have them reveal their naked selves too.

Before you knew it, they had unbuckled their belts and zipped down their trousers, revealing their huge semi hard cocks, twitching out of their restraints.

You took notice of how Bucky’s cock is thicker while Steve’s is longer, and even then your small hands struggle to fully wrap around both. You swallow as you ogle their lengths, licking your lips at the sight of them leaking pre-cum already. The men chuckled lowly, gesturing you to touch them any way you wanted to.

“Get closer to each other. My hands are too small to pleasure you both properly at the same time…” you pointed out with an undertone of nervousness.

Steve and Bucky could tell you were a bit anxious with the pressure on you as you were giving them pleasure by your own, so they encouraged you with tender strokes on your shoulder.

“You’re doing such a good job honey, don’t worry your pretty head…” Steve reassured.

“But don’t mind if we do get a little close...” Bucky added smugly as he got closely to Steve, letting you guide his cock to rub against Steve’s as you stroked them both in the same pace. You licked and sucked their cocks, taking turns as you swirled your tongue to have a taste of their pre-cum.

They grunted and held a hand on each side of your shoulder, encouraging you to keep going.

“Fuck, look at her…she’s more amazing than I imagined her to be..”

“Mmm, she’s perfect. You’re perfect, doll.” Steve redirected to you.

You looked up at them with doe eyes as you sucked their tips together, and the men thought they were loosing it at that moment.

“Oh fuck….Bucky…” Steve called after his lovers’ name to catch his attention before leaning in to kiss him, moans and whimpers leaving their mouths as you kept pleasuring them where it mattered.

You hummed around their cocks as you were sending down vibrations to their shaft, making them receive a shockwave of pleasure.

“Fuck! M’gonna cum, Y/N…milk us…take our cum…shit!” Bucky cursed as he felt his balls tightening. Steve followed suit too, releasing himself into your mouth.

“Fucking hell…” Steve groaned at the sight of you trying to swallow their loads, but ultimately spilling some down your chin.

“Language…” Bucky joked through a murmur, making Steve roll his eyes with a smile.

With the use of his thumb, Steve gathered what had spilled up from your chin to between your lips, having you suck his fingers clean lewdly.

Steve purred in delight, “What a good girl you are…taking us both like a champ.”

“Now you’re about to receive twice the reward, sweetheart…you sure you’re ready for it?”

You nodded eagerly, “oh fuck yes, don’t hold back on my account…”

The men smirked, knowing she was in for it all.

“Holy shit!”

Bucky had a wicked grin as his tongue glided along your folds, not holding back with the way his tongue explored you as per your request.

Steve cooed, “Look at her cute little button…so puffy and sensitive, isn’t it?” He kept rubbing your clit with his thumb, making your whole body twitch in pleasure. Bucky hummed against you in response just then, not leaving his lips from your quivering heat.

He managed to mutter something in the lines of ‘tastes so good, doll’ while his tongue found the source of your wetness, lapping up every drop of pussy juice that threatened to leave for the mattress beneath you.

“I can’t - I don’t wanna cum before I have a dick inside of me..” you whined, and the men stopped as they grinned, looking at each other.

“Who’s dick do you want in you first, doll?” Steve then asked teasingly while stroking your cheek.

“…I don’t know…” you answered, suddenly pondering. “Do I really have to choose?…”

“Well you can’t have us both at the same time…you’re not ready for that.” Steve spoke, humored.

Bucky held his gaze at Steve, “I think…it’s best if you take her first, Stevie. You have better control than I do and I wouldn’t want to ruin the mood or hurt you, Y/N.” He then turns to look at you for a brief moment.

Your face falls at Bucky’s words and you’re about to open your mouth to speak but Steve beats you to it. “You couldn’t hurt her, Buck…but if you feel doubtful of yourself, I’ll take it into my own hands for now until you feel more sure. Does that sound good, doll?” Steve asks as he looks at you too.

You nod, agreeing to the solution as Bucky encourages it with a soft expression. “Sounds good.”

Steve sucks in his breath as he pushes his tip through your folds, holding your hips graciously with you on your back. “Gonna give it to you long and hard…you’ll never want for anything other than us, doll.”

A whimper escaped your lips as Steve impales you. “S-So big…you might split me in half..”

He chuckled at the underlying compliment and strokes your cheek gently. “I won’t move until you say so, love…take your time in getting used to my size, okay?” He says and strokes your clit gently.

You groan and nod in response, “mhm, just give me a minute…”

“We’ve got all the time in the world…” Bucky reassures as he gets behind Steve and caresses his body.

You groan at the sight, “Apart from the love between you two which I adore, - you look so hot together.”

“Yeah? You have always enjoyed watching us being intimate haven’t you?” Steve teased as he leans back a little more against Bucky. “Since the very beginning, we could smell it on you…”

Your face turned red as you realized, shit, of course they could tell when you were aroused. They are enhanced in everything to smell such things…

Bucky interrupted your overthinking with his chuckle, “don’t let it embarrass you, doll…your bodily reactions only ensured you felt the same…thanks to your honest body, we’re here together at all.”

“Now, while we wait for you to get ready, how about we give you a show?” Steve suggested with a seductive grin. You nodded feverishly as Steve turned his head behind to give Bucky a loving kiss, with Bucky’s hands wandering around Steve’s pecs and stomach. Steve then sneaked his hand below and stroke Bucky’s cock as Bucky stared down at you, mesmerized.

“Fuuck, seeing you buried inside Y/N makes me so fuckin’ horny…” at Bucky’s confession, you blush profusely.

“Yeah? Well, if you’re so needy and desperate, you know what you could do about it.”

Bucky’s eyes wandered down to Steve’s ass. “Oh, don’t I know it…” He reached for the lube on the nightstand and inserted some into Steve’s puckered hole with his metal finger, making Steve grunt with arousal. Bucky positioned himself, towering over Steve’s back.

“Just shove yourself in already…you know I can take-!” Steve’s sentence is cut out from a sharp hiss as Bucky slides home.

You witness before your very eyes as Steve closes his eyes tightly, a high pitched moan getting choked as he grits his teeth. His long drawn ‘fuuuuck~’ is the confirming evidence you gather that he’s feeling absolutely amazing.

You can’t help yourself and cover your mouth to hide how turned on you are by this very scenery. Your attempts are due to fail as you feel your core growing wetter and tighter. “…I’m…”

“Fuck, you’re hugging my cock even tighter than before…” Steve purred as he glanced at you through his lashes. “Mmh, does it turn you on to see me between you like this? - Shit…” Steve cursed as Bucky got himself fully seethed inside of him. Steve’s once self assured look was growing twitchy and fading into one of a bottom.

Steve’s cock pulsed inside of you, making you mewl, “Y-Yes! It’s so hot and - god, I need you to start moving, Steve. I’m so ready to be fucked…”

“You hear that? Our girl wants to have her sweet pussy fucked…let’s fulfill her needs, shall we?” Steve nodded and Bucky started to move, causing Steve’s hips to move with him, creating a thrust.

You bit back a loud moan, your breath growing shallow as Steve’s length drags through your tight channel.

Bucky smirked as he looked over Steve’s shoulder, his eyebrows knitted in pleasure, “damn, Stevie…look at what you’re doing to her…”

Steve moaned as he didn’t take his eyes off of you, seeing the way your face scrunches in pleasure for each thrust. “…don’t hold back any noises, love. We want to hear all of it…”

You nod and let a whimper escape you. Bucky starts to move faster just then, encouraging Steve to go along the rhythm as they stay connected. While Bucky leaves rough grunting noises, Steve and you left ones of whines and moans of various pitches.

The pleasure of being deep inside of you while having his prostate hit was overwhelming for Steve, “oh my…” is all he can mutter out as moans take over his speech.

“Steve…aahh!~” you moan as you feel Steve’s cock nudging against the deepest parts inside of you, and you become flushed from overwhelming amount of pleasure.

“Please, cum inside, Steve…I’m on the pill, it’s fine…mmmh~ need it…”

“A-Alright whatever you want, doll…- fuuuck!” Steve aches his back behind as he becomes overdriven, feeling his male lover’s cock continuously hitting his prostate which makes him all the more weak.

Bucky can only snicker from pride as he picks up the pace. “Found your sweet spot, huh? I always do…”

Steve could only groan in response as the sex gets more intense. He feels an overwhelming pleasure being between his two lovers, one piercing inside of him while he’s deep inside the other.

It feels absolutely ecstatic.

“Gonna dump my cum inside you any moment, Stevie…” Bucky suddenly announces while he grunts and pounds relentlessly into Steve’s ass until he reaches his climax through a loud gasp.

You gasp, “Oh shit, I’m going to…”

Steve whines just then, feeling you become close too as he shouts, “C-cumming!..” while biting his lip.

Steve spills deeply into you, coating your walls in hot sticky cum while Bucky does the same inside of him. It’s all too much for the three of you as you go through your highs, remaining still as you catch your breaths from your first round of mutual orgasms.

Bucky pulled out of Steve, making him whimper as his cock slips out of your oozing pussy, exposing what he had left behind. Bucky leaned in to kiss Steve’s shoulder, watching down on you at your post orgasmic expression. He chuckled when he caught your playful smirk, and he pulls up Steve with him to sit up before parting Steve’s legs a little.

“Look at that…” Bucky pointed out as he spread Steve’s ass cheeks, showing the sticky mess he had left behind. Bucky took notice of the way you licked your lips at the sight, and immediately suggested in his husky voice, “Would you like to clean him up? I’ll clean Stevie’s mess on you in the meantime…”

Steve turned around as he understood what Bucky was proposing and blushed, “You don’t need to do that, doll…it’s probably new to you and -!”

You shake your head, "No, I want to do it. Bring America’s ass over to me.” you interrupted, determination showing through your features as your lips form a smirk.

Steve blushes even more furiously at your confidence, not expecting to hear that at all. “Oh…well, since you’re offering and only if you want to…”

Bucky snorts as he nudges at Steve with his shoulder, “You’re catching Stevie off guard and it’s making him all flustered…been a while since I’ve seen him this red.” He comments, snickering as he pulls your lower body over to him and licks up Steve’s and yours mess between your legs, making you groan.

Steve simply huffs, and Bucky adds an order, “Get in front of her face, Steve. Our naughty girl said she wants a taste, so let her have it…” while he spread your thighs wide apart, his mouth eagerly meeting your pussy again and sucking out the cum dripping out of your cunt.

You moan from the pleasure Bucky provides you, but you stay composed to take care of the other big man beside you.

Steve helps you gain easy access as he spreads his ass cheeks apart, anticipation written all over his face as you inch closer to his hole, your nose nudging against his balls in the process while your tongue makes its way. He groans when he feels you licking around his rim where Bucky’s cum is dripping out, and he shivers when you hum against his sensitive skin from savoring the taste.

“Ahh…that’s it…” Steve speaks through a low rumble and he spreads his legs wider as you get closer to him. “Oohh, I’m so in love with you…”

You snicker as you tease him with your tongue techniques, but as you feel Bucky forcing his own wet muscle inside of you, you begin to crumble yourself. “J-James…”

Bucky coos at your whine, assuming you’re feeling overwhelmed. “It’s okay, sweetheart…m’just cleaning your insides, that’s all…won’t leave ya overstimulated…”

“N-No, that’s not it…” you whine once more while shaking your head, “I want you inside of me.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he feels his cock harden by this very plead, but he still restrains himself, “Are you sure? Doll, you just had Steve and he’s no bigger than me…besides, I’m not sure I’d be able to hold back…”

“I don’t care.” You say, biting your lip at how needy you make yourself sound, but you’re desperate. “I need your cock…please, I need you to fuck me before we call it a night.”

Bucky glances at Steve who has a growing smirk on his face, “I think you should give our doll what she wants, Buck. You don’t want to deny her when she’s begging so nicely, do you?”

Bucky hums in thought before he shakes his head, “no…I don’t.” He rises up above you as he strokes his shaft, his cock pulsing with anticipation. “Turn around, sweetheart. I’m taking you doggy style.”

You grin seductively and do as he says, raising your ass up. A moan leaves your lips as you feel Bucky’s cool metal arm wrap around you while he uses his other hand to guide his cock to your heat.

“Fuck, I’ve been waiting for this for so long, doll…I’m going to savor every moment of taking this cunt…”

You mewl as Bucky takes a hold of your hips almost possessively while he guides for your bodies to meet. His tip intrudes against your entrance as he pushes forward, and before you know it, his whole length seeps in, making you cry out in pleasure.

Steve kneels in front of you as he takes in Bucky picking up a rhythm, his thrusts quickly going from gentle to desperate. He then turns his gaze at you and notices you’re looking up at him directly, as if you’re pleading for something. Steve caresses your chin with a smirk growing on his face, and he gives you what you want as he inches himself closer, his cock stiffening again when your lips meets it.

The room becomes filled with filthy moans, grunts and curses for the next moments as they engage in the spitroast.

“O-One thing for sure…I’m never gonna be needing that pussy pocket ever again.” Bucky breaks the silence from behind you as he stutters his hips desperately into you. You moan as it dawns over you what he was implying. They had fantasized about you before.

“Yeah, we won’t have to…you’re such a good girl for taking care of us…so, so proud of you…” Steve murmurs his praises as he takes in the sight of you sucking his balls before licking your way up to his tip again where you continue sucking him off.

Bucky clenches his teeth as he realizes he’s far too gone to hold it any longer, and he announces through a weakened whisper, “I’m about to bust…”

“Right behind you…want to be fed with my cum, doll?” Steve asks, his breath now shortening.

Your head bobs, giving an eager ‘yes’ as you swallow him inside your mouth some more. Steve guides you to take more of his cock down your throat, his hips bucking forward with neediness while he reaches his own climax.

Bucky fills you to the brim with a final thrust, emptying himself as he throws his head back. “Ah fuck!!” The senation Bucky provides makes your orgasm crash over you, having you quivering underneath him.

You roll your eyes to the back of your head as Steve’s cum spurts down your throat, what feels like buckets. You pull your mouth off of him and gasp for air as you swipe your tongue around your lips, gathering any drop that managed to escape. Steve leans down onto the bed to cool down, his cock finally softening after what felt like hours of sex.

Bucky brings you carefully with him to lie down too, his cock slipping out of your pussy as he softens, allowing his cum to escape and drip down between your legs.

As you catch your breath, you can’t help but laugh a little, making the super soldiers perk down at you curiously.

“You guys cum a lot…and it’s what, your third orgasm? How is that even possible? Never met guys who can do that.” You share as you chuckle, amused.

“We’re enhanced, sweetheart…we’re supposed to be above average in several aspects. That includes going for several rounds without tapping out.” Steve explains as he sends a wink your way.

You giggle at that while they bring you closer between them, nuzzling against you as you go into a session of aftercare.

“This has to be the best sex I’ve had in a long time…” you sigh with satisfaction, “I don’t think I could ever get enough of this…” the men simply hum, agreeing with your thought.

“Trust me, there’ll be more of where that came from….plenty of it, every day if it’s what you desire.” Bucky speaks in a teasing tone as he steals a kiss from you, holding his gaze at you ever so lovingly.

Steve hums in agreement as he adds, “or, even if you would only want it once in a while, we will to our best abilities make you crave more and more each time we do it…” he leans in to take a passionate kiss from you too, not being able to help himself from joining the soft intimacy.

You express fondness by your smile alone as you look in between them, and when Bucky and Steve reach for each other above you for a final sweet kiss, you’re settled in for a good night sleep, the three of you feeling so closely connected like never before.

N/A: This turned out incredibly filthy…so I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 🤭

Hearts + Reblogs are incredibly appreciated! <3

[littlebirdygirlywriting]

For the drabbles, maybe Tyler realising he’s been neglecting you and your relationship because he was getting excited about Kate’s experiment and everything and realising that he needs to focus more on you or else he could seriously lose you? Little Angst but with a good ending for Tyler and reader

Tear Stains on a Flannel Shirt

Twisters Masterlist

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader

Summary: When a new message pops up on your phone, you don’t even bother to read it. You know what it will be. Tyler’s working late… again. But are his new work habits just a means to a devastating end?

Author’s Note: Anon, I’m so sorry this took so long! I literally had to rewrite it three times because I kept backing myself into a corner. 💀 It’s possibly OOC and I’m really not happy with a couple of things, but I didn’t want to postpone it any longer. I hope you enjoy it anyway! 🫶🏻 (P.s. I feel like Tyler would text using yellow hearts… idk why, but that feels right.)

Warnings: Angst, but with a happy ending. Intense Descriptions of a Panic Attack, (aka, I almost gave myself one writing this). Tyler uses both “baby” and “sweetheart” as terms of endearment. Swearing. Brief Mention of Death, (it’s literally just a passing thought, but better safe than sorry).

Word Count: 756 (I’m trying to cease being surprised—I have come to accept the fact that literally none of these are drabbles. 😆)

———————————————————————————

New Message from: T 💖

You sighed as the notification popped up on your screen, swiping it away without opening it.

You already knew what it would be.

Sorry, baby. Kate and I are on the verge of a scientific breakthrough—please don’t wait up.

It was the exact same thing he’d told you every other night this past… week? Two weeks?

Tears flooded your eyes, your mind falling into the one-track record it’d been playing for the last three days.

He’s going to break up with me. He’s going to break up with me.

The thoughts raced a thousand miles a minute, no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself otherwise. No matter how many times you tried to rationalize the feelings. Tyler was a good man. He wouldn’t just leave you without a word of explanation.

And yet, panic clawed at your throat like a deranged animal.

This is how it starts. This is how it always starts.

Late nights, early mornings—more time spent at work, less time spent at home.

Soon, you would be two strangers living in the same house. And then, not even that.

He’s going to break up with me. He’s going—

Pain blossomed across your chest, stabbing, constricting. Oxygen refused to enter your lungs, or perhaps your lungs refused to utilize it. Black dots crowded your vision.

I’m not—I can’t—I’m going to die!

“Sweetheart?” Tyler’s voice echoed in the entryway, bouncing off kitchen walls and landing undisturbed on the living room carpet.

His boots thumped against the hardwood floors as he passed through the kitchen into the living area. Whimpering greeted him from behind the corner of the couch, tucked up against the wall. Urgency kicked his pulse. “Baby? Is that you?” He rounded the corner of the couch… and was immediately on his knees before you. “Shit! Shit, sweetheart, talk to me. Talk to me! What’s going on?”

“Tyler, I—“ The panic in your eyes as you gasped, clinging to his arm, knees tucked up to your chest and tears streaming down your cheeks, seared itself in his mind. He wouldn’t be able to unsee it for a while. “I can’t breathe. I can’t—“

“Hey, hey! It’s okay, you’re gonna be alright. Breathe with me.” He ran a hand up and down your arm, inhaling a deep, exaggerated breath, trying to still your racing heart.

But his own pulse thrummed.

What is happening? Should I call an ambulance? There’s no blood… but she can’t breathe. Shit, shit, shit!

“Follow my lead, sweetheart. C’mon.”

A sob broke out of your chest, but you followed.

In… and out. In… and out.

“Good. That’s good, baby. You’re doing good.”

He sighed in mental relief as your body slowly started following the pattern.

Okay, she can breathe. She can breathe. She’s gonna be okay.

“T-Ty?”

“Yeah?”

He dragged a thumb across the back of your hand, attempting to ground you from what he was now recognizing as a panic attack. Swimming eyes locked onto his, despair tracing a threatening line around the edges.

“Are you… are you breaking up with me?”

Tyler couldn’t have been more shocked if you’d punched him in the gut. He sputtered, mouth moving, but with no sound coming out.

Finally, he managed a choked, “What?”

“It’s just—” You swallowed, looking away. “It’s just you’ve been gone so often, staying late at work, leaving early, sometimes even before I wake up, and I thought–-I mean—” Your face crumpled, and Tyler’s heart with it. “I mean, every other relationship I’ve ever had—that’s how they did it. That’s how it always started, and I thought—” A sob, deep and resonant, wracked your body.

“Hey. Hey, shhh. Shhhh.” He pulled you close, pressing you firmly against his chest, a tender kiss planted swiftly atop your head.

Your hands fisted in his shirt as you sobbed. Tears stained the front of his flannel.

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay. I’m not—” His hand rubbed soothingly up your back. At least, Tyler hoped it was soothing. But your tears never slowed. “I’m not breaking up with you.”

You pulled back, your face a mess of snot and tears. “Promise?”

Tyler smiled gently, wiping your face clean with his sleeve. Because if that wasn’t love, he didn’t know what was. “Promise.”

You fell back into his arms, a shudder shaking your frame as you sighed.

And he just sat there with you, for as long as you needed, his message from earlier playing in his mind.

Coming home early today, baby. I love you. 💛

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 1. tags: dubcon

-

You duck behind a stack of boxes when you hear Johnny come whistling into the warehouse.

He shouts your name out somewhere off on the other side of the warehouse, voice echoing through the building. You keep absolutely still, fingers clamped around the clipboard that’s pressed close to your chest. Even your breathing slows, open-mouthed so as to keep it almost soundless. It’s strategic. You’ve gotten good at making yourself invisible back here, practically melting into the stack of boxes. 

A minute or two goes by with repeated calls of your name, echoing from different parts of the warehouse like Johnny’s making the rounds. Searching for you. He’s probably been looking around the store for ages, with his track record. Someone must have let it slip that you were assigned to inventory today instead of being out on the floor. 

You only let out a sigh when it’s been long enough that any reasonable person might have given up on trying to find you in the loading dock.

“Hiding from someone?” a deep voice asks from behind you.

Your gut all but self-ejects. When you turn around, he’s standing there in the same bright blue shirt that you also wear. His is stretched tight across his chest though, like it’s a size too small. You wonder sometimes if it’s on purpose. It’s hard not to let your eyes wander, but by now you’ve trained yourself to keep your eyes level when speaking to Johnny. 

“Nope,” you squeak. “Just…you know…counting. Counting boxes and…stacks.”

He laughs, loud enough to make you startle. It’s far too enthusiastic, like you told a particularly funny joke instead of stumbling over your words and you still don’t actually know if he finds you funny or not. 

“Cool,” Johnny says, taking a step closer to you. The clipboard doesn’t feel sufficient enough to put any real distance between the two of you. “Thought I could maybe come hang out with ye back here. Dinnae want ye to feel lonely.”

“Nope, not lonely at all. Totally peachy. Actually glad I could catch a break from…everyone.” You take a step back.

He follows you, another step forward. “Aye, dinnae worry, I get what ye mean. Some of the others—” he whistles, “—right buggers. Glad to catch a break myself as well.”

A bead of sweat rolls down the back of your neck. “Aren’t you supposed to be…out in the front? I, uh, don’t want you to get in trouble with Jeff—”

“Ah, Jeff’s fine, kitty, dinnae worry about me,” Johnny coos, sounding pleased as punch. He takes you at face value instead of reading into the set of your jaw and the way you keep inching away from him as he gets closer to you, convinced that you genuinely in your heart care about whether he gets written up or not. “They fuckin’ love me, ye ken? Think he wants ta take me out for lunch tomorrow, but told him I’d only go if he invited ye as well.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” you whisper instead of screaming. You’re doing that a lot these days. Talking through the scream bubbling behind your front teeth. 

“Would ye want ta then?” he asks, suddenly in your face, three quick steps bridging the gap between you in barely a second, hardly enough time for you to blink. You blink and it’s just Johnny, in startling definition. Thick eyebrows and scar across his chin, the bridge of his nose perfect like he’s never broken it before. “Grab some lunch with me?”

“I, uh…I brought my lunch from home.”

“It’s a’right, I’ll buy it for ye, hen. Dinnae need ta waste your money.” Sometimes when he talks to you, he gets like this, fervent and almost desperate. He seems only half aware of it. “Ye like that mediterranean place nearby, right? Seen ye go there once or twice; wanted ta tag along, but dinnae want ta alarm ye.”

“You saw me go there?” you repeat. 

“Aye, happened ta glance out the window when ye were on your lunch break. Back before management changed my break time. Cheers for that as well because it was really startin’ ta bother me, ye ken? Not being able ta eat with my favourite coworker.” 

You never know how to respond when Johnny lets on a bit too much about how he feels about you. Sometimes he slips up and it comes rushing out, a big spool of thread unwinding in front of you.  

“Yeah, well…I don’t know about today but maybe…” you say, trailing off. There’s a danger in just brushing him off, you feel. 

“Tomorrow then,” he decides, grin still splitting his face. “I’m no’ on the schedule, but I can drop by at your lunch break and go with ye. How’s that sound?”

“Well, you know…it sounds…” He’s close enough now that if you lean forward, you’ll faceplant in between his pecs. Despite everything, you have to slightly fight the urge. Sometimes you think it’d be easier if he weren’t so absurdly gorgeous. It doesn’t make any of his actions okay, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour just because he’s pretty, yet still he pulls you in somehow, magnetic. “It sounds—you know, actually, I think Jeff wanted to talk to me about something, so if you don’t mind—”

Johnny tries to say something, but you manage to duck around him and scurry off, disappearing into the stacks of boxes before pressing forward until you burst out the main doors out of the warehouse. It leads to a hall that goes towards the store, but you haul it to the women’s washroom instead. The one place he can’t follow you inside. 

In the washroom, you can finally breathe. Resting your hands on either side of the sink, you look into the mirror where haggard eyes with deep circles underneath stare back at you. 

You flinch when one of the toilets flush and the stall door opens, another coworker stepping out. 

“Did I hear Johnny outside?” she asks, taking the sink beside you to wash her hands. You nod, still tongue tied. “He really follows you everywhere, huh?”

For a second, your shoulders relax. “God, I know, he’s always just hovering—”

She cuts you off, sighing dreamily. “You’re so lucky. He’s so hot, it’s unreal. I can’t believe he works here, like that’s insane. I’d kill to have him as obsessed with me as he is with you.”

“He’s—he’s not into me, he’s just…you know, he just hovers.”

The water shuts off. Your coworker shoots you a dubious look, almost mocking. “Yeah, alright. Sure. Not into you. Not like he hangs off your every word. You don’t have to be humble—we’re already jealous. It’s like rubbing it in when you pretend like it’s totally normal.”

You slump, defeated, when she leaves without drying her hands. It’s moot to try and commiserate with anyone. They don’t see him the way you do, not for who he is. Your coworkers love Johnny; you’ve seen someone genuinely fistpump after being scheduled with him. 

They don’t see any of the weird shit though. They don’t see the way he insists on walking you to your car well into the evening after a closing shift together. They don’t notice the way Johnny laughs a little too hard and with too much vigour when someone calls him your shadow, his eyes just a little too bright and fervent. 

They’re never around to see him ask if you want to sit on his lap while he shows you how to use the forklift in the backroom. They’ve never seen him beg management to let him take his breaks with you and doesn't let you have a moment of peace, just sits with you in the breakroom or follows you to your car when you say that you're going out for lunch. 

Sometimes you look at him and think, this guy should not be in the Appliance section of a big box store. Johnny should be on the front cover of magazines, in commercials for toothpaste, acting in Hallmark movies, or maybe hand modelling for obscenely ornate watch companies that cost the equivalent of a mortgage—not handing out free samples of sliced cheese.

That was then.

It starts like this: an overeager sales associate who butts his way to the front of the line on your first day. 

You think at first that you’re golden. It seems like a sweet deal—an easy enough job, maybe not what you went to school for, but still something to pass the time and not too backbreaking. Plus, the guy shaking your hand and chatting up a storm in front of you is making you melt inside. He’s easy on the eyes—all bright smiles, effortless charm, either just brushing or exactly six feet, and built. Broad shouldered and lean. 

Johnny’s a model employee as well—knows the handbook inside and out, and shows you the ropes on your first day along with the assistant manager giving you a tour of the store, which is helpful because there’s at least three floors that you could easily get lost on. He walks elderly customers to their cars with their bags, shows up to work early for every shift, always with a smile and a positive attitude, and you find out early on that management loves him because of his frankly incredible sales record. 

(And you get it too; you can’t imagine anyone looking into those gorgeous blue eyes and turning him down.)

He's also a spokesperson for the company in all of their internal training videos because he was hired through some “Jobs for Vets” program that they just rolled out. The guy can also stack things on a shelf like no one's business, products lined up with military precision (hence the ex-military status). 

All in all, you can’t help feeling like for once in your life, you didn’t draw the short stick. 

Then one day, you’re alone with Johnny in the breakroom early in the morning before the store has opened yet and he turns to you with a wide, boyish grin and says apropos of nothing, “Named my fleshlight after you.”

You think your brain skips a couple tracks like a record player. You rewind and replay what was just said to you. There’s no two ways about it—you must have misheard him. Of course you did because surely your coworker of two months didn’t just look you in the eyes and say with a sweet sunshine smile that he named his sex toy after you. 

He doesn’t laugh, just stands there and smiles while stirring sugar into his coffee. He takes it black. You take note of that because the brain still has to work when the mind shuts down momentarily, so you use it instead to catalogue things around the breakroom. One of the motivational posters hanging near the door is hung a bit off-centre. The fluorescent lightbulb on the far side of the room is dimmer than the others. Johnny’s eyes have a little light spot in them like the tip of an ocean wave.

“Excuse me?” you ask, dumbfounded. Your voice sounds hollow even to you.

“I named her after ye,” he repeats, not a trace of shame in his voice. “Used ta not have a name at all, but figured since I say it so much when I’m enjoyin’ her, she might as well share it with ya.” 

He stares at you after saying that, letting it hang in the air. Your brain chooses that moment to come back online and all it can do is load that image of Johnny home alone with his fleshlight, toes curled in his sheets and the muscles of his legs straining as he moans your name. All you can do is give a little awkward laugh, growing more uncomfortable by the second the longer he stares at you without blinking. 

Then, something passes over his eyes and suddenly he's back to normal, laughing and clapping you on the arm before wandering off to the men's apparel section. 

It leaves you reeling for the rest of the day, sure you imagined it. It recontextualizes a few things for you though. He’s always been on the handsy side, verging on inappropriate, but skirting just enough around the edges of it that you usually brush off Johnny’s weird behaviour. Chalk it up to annoying little brotherly tendencies. You know he has a few older sisters anyway; you figured it was just how he related to women in his environment.

Not so. 

It escalates after that initial escalation. Not that things started off on an appropriate note, but at least before you could rationalize most of his quirks.

Now it’s this: his hand on your lower back during work hours when you’re busy helping a customer and he sidles up next to you, pinkie brushing so low on your back that you worry for a second that he might slip it down the back of your pants. Lifting you up by the hips whenever you have a hard time reaching something on a shelf instead of just reaching up and grabbing it for you. A complete misuse of his height. He digs his fingers into your sides and never lets you go right away when he puts you down. 

“Aw shit, bonnie,” he coos when you complain about it hurting you. “Dinnae mean ta hurt ye. Want me to give ye a little massage in the breakroom?” 

You learn quickly that there’s no point in complaining about his behaviour to anyone. You can't complain to any of your coworkers because the second you so much as criticize his work, they bark at you to be nice to him. He's just re-acclimating to civilian life, of course he's not perfect at his job yet, they say. They defend him almost viciously; the real jealous ones even tell on you in front of him, leaving you to stand there embarrassed and on the spot until Johnny just smiles and says that it's alright. That you'll just have to teach him better. 

There’s not much you can do besides grin and bear it. You can hope one day that you'll get transferred; you don't have much hope for him being transferred. Not with how endeared he is to management.

When you finally open the door, ready to leave the bathroom and get back to work, you nearly scream when Johnny lurches off the wall across from the bathroom door where he’s been leaning. Waiting for you.

“C’mon, hen,” he says, all teeth. “Lemme walk ye back ta work.”

[sturnsblogs]

A baby..or two..or three?

Teacher!Matt X Milf!Reader

Warnings- Suggetive. Baby talk. not proof read.

—

Ever since the wedding, your lives had practically turned into one big honeymoon. The glow never wore off—it just morphed into a heat that followed you both everywhere. From the first night back in your home as husband and wife, it had been a nonstop parade of affection, stolen kisses, soft moans behind closed doors, and whispered dreams in the dark.

Every night, once Eliana was tucked in with her stuffed animals and soft lullabies, once her nightlight was on and her breathing evened out—everything changed.

You’d be brushing your teeth, or folding laundry, or even just sitting on the couch watching TV, and suddenly Matt’s arms would snake around your waist from behind. His mouth would find your shoulder. Or your neck. Or your collarbone. You’d feel his wedding ring scrape lightly against your skin as his hands wandered lower.

“You still wearing that pretty lace one?” he murmured one night, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You turned, smirking. “You act like I ever wear anything to bed anymore.”

He groaned and tossed you over his shoulder, bridal-style. “God, I love being married.”

It wasn’t just sex. It was obsession. It was love. It was his constant need to see you, feel you, worship you. Every inch. Every sound you made. Every sleepy “Matt…” that slipped past your lips when he kissed down your stomach.

You were just as bad. Pulling him into the shower. Climbing on top of him first thing in the morning. Tangling your fingers in his curls and saying, “You’re mine. You married me, remember? Forever.”

But the deeper part? The baby talks.

They came in whispers, in gasps, in quiet giggles while lying naked and tangled in bedsheets. You’d trace your finger over the silver ring on his hand and whisper, “I want a baby. Maybe two. Or three.”

Matt would groan, forehead pressed to your shoulder. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not teasing,” you said one night, curled into his chest, your thighs still warm and shaky from the way he’d touched you minutes before. “What if it’s twins?”

His hand moved down to your belly. “Triplets,” he said playfully. “Imagine that. Two boys and a girl. Or three girls. Or three boys that are little terrors like me.”

You laughed, turning in his arms. “We don’t even use protection. It’s going to happen, Matt.”

“I know,” he said, serious now, voice low and raw. “That’s the plan. I want it to happen. I want it so bad it scares me.”

You looked up at him. “Even if it takes a while?”

“Even if it’s tomorrow.”

Even at the store, in the middle of the day, he’d reach out and squeeze your hand in the snack aisle and whisper, “We should name her something soft… like Isla. Or he could be Ethan.”

You’d flush red, glancing around. “Stop talking about getting me pregnant while I’m trying to pick a cereal.”

Matt just laughed and kissed your temple. “Can’t help it. I just want more little versions of you running around. We’re already a family… I just want to grow it.”

And the most insane part?

You weren’t trying.

You weren’t charting. You weren’t counting days. You weren’t stressing. You weren’t preventing.

You were just making love like it was religion and letting the universe do the rest.

Sometimes, after round three and a breathless “Matt—I can’t—” he’d kiss your forehead and murmur against your skin, “Good. Hope you’re already carrying our baby, sweetheart.”

And you’d smile in the dark, wrap your leg around him tighter, and whisper, “Me too.”

Because being his wife wasn’t just a title.

It was a dream. A fever. A promise to love and crave each other endlessly.

And now… maybe soon, it’d be another baby. Or two.

Or maybe even those triplets Matt kept teasing about.

—

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl @freshlyinlovewchris @whore4chris @matts-girlfriend @ariana3lovesu @sturnl0ve @cass-sturn @sturns-mermaid @sunrisemill @fadedstvrn @ikyoudreamofme @mattsdemi @kitkatbar1275 @skelet0nsinmyycloset-deactivate @lezleeferguson-120 @bells-sturn @sturniolosymphony @kenziesturniolo54 @kikirasweatsweathoho @emely9274 @sturnns-world @realuvrrr @zenithsturniolo @kier-with-a-k

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part six

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five

The dinner is going on and on. Normally you really like the dinners with the McLaren team, but tonight you can’t seem to focus on anything that’s happening around you. Lando isn’t seated close to you like normal, you don’t know how it happened but there is a couple seats between you. It causes you to stare at him all the time. Oscar however is sitting next to you. He’s nice and polite, but the both of you are a bit shy. Something that causes the conversation to go not as smooth as when Lando is with you. You couldn’t stop yourself and drank a bit more then you’d normally do. You try to talk it right for yourself, but all your excuses are around Lando. Instead of doing the wise thing and order a water or a soda, you order another cocktail when the waiter asks you for your drink order. Oops?

You don’t know what’s going on with you. Since you have arrived in the restaurant, you have been feeling vague. At first it was just because Lando was seated a bit far away from you, but eventually something else happened what causes you to feel like this. Maybe vague isn’t the right word, but you can’t confess the right word. That would make things so much worse. 

The weird, unsettling feeling in your stomach and head started when Lando started to talk with another girl. You don’t know her personally and you haven’t seen her around before. Nothing too weird since McLaren is growing rather fast and hires a lot of new employees quite often. If she’s from McLaren, you don’t know for sure. Lando is talking and laughing with her, it causes you to feel terrible. Every time he lets out a laugh, you feel yourself getting jealous. 

Oscar sends you a confused look when you take a big gulp from the cocktail the waiter just brought you. He seems even more confused when he looks at his own glass, which is still half full and was order a round earlier. You can only hope that Oscar doesn’t say anything about it, but you’re quick to let go of that hope when Oscar starts to talk. 

“Everything okay?” He asks you.

You show him a simple nod as a reply. 

“Do you want me to switch places with Lando?” He asks you with a small smile, “I understand if I’m a bit boring tonight, but I’m exhausted from the race.”

“Oh no,” you quickly state, “I’m also pretty tired, so I’m not the most fun person tonight as well. And I can’t focus on anything right now.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re drinking quite a lot for someone who wants to focus?” Oscar jokes.

You let out a soft laugh. “You’re right,” you agree with him, “Don’t even know why.”

“Maybe because of the girl who’s flirting with Lando?” Oscar says without even a single doubt. Are you that obvious? Fuck. Before you can say anything to Oscar - not that you know what, are you going to lie to him or confess? Oscar is already talking again, but this time softer. “Let me help you. Just follow my lead and this is fixed in only minutes.” 

You show Oscar a confused look, but still nod at his words. Oscar says a loud hi to someone who’s sitting next to you, quickly starting a conversation with him. You look at what he’s doing, but you still have no idea how it will help you right now. 

“Did you already meet Y/N?” Oscar suddenly asks the guy. The guy shakes his head. “Really?” Oscar asks confused, “This is her, you should really get to know her.” In only seconds the guy is shaking your hand and introducing himself as Pedro. You introduce yourself as well. A small conversation is started rather quickly. Pedro is pretty interested into you, Oscar is quickly fading to the background of the conversation. You try to keep him into it as well, but Pedro keeps focussing on you. 

“We should totally dance together at the club later!” Pedro tells you full enthusiasm, you chuckle and tell him that you’re a terrible dancer. Something he doesn’t seem to care about. Conversations with him are pretty easy, before you know it he talks about how he got by McLaren recently and what he does. It seems that he’s involved in Lando his trainings, helping the team with making a better rhythm for your friend and assisting his main trainer John when it’s needed. 

“I can teach you how to dance later tonight,” Pedro tells you with a smile. It sounds a bit suggestive now that you think about it. Before you can realize, you see Lando coming closer to you. He presses a kiss against your cheek. You almost jump up when he does, since when are you doing this in public as well? 

“Hi babygirl,” Lando softly greets you. 

Pedro sends you an embarrassed look. Before he can say anything, Lando greets his shortly as well. “Pedro,” he simply says with a small nod to the guy. You don’t know if you’re right, but Lando his tone seemed different when he greeted Pedro. It almost sounded annoyed. When you look at Oscar and he shows you a grin, you realize that this was his plan all the time.

“Sorry Lando, didn’t know you two are a thing,” Pedro quickly says, he stands up and walks away after saying so. The words to deny it are still laying on your tongue. Lando is quick to take Pedro his seat next to you. You show him a confused look. What did just happen? Why didn’t Lando deny it?

“Sooo, the two of you are a thing?” Oscar asks his teammate with a small smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing by letting you meet Pedro. You send him an annoyed look, but don’t say anything. Lando can fix this. He acted this strange. “We’re not dating,” Lando states.

“Oh then why did you kiss her cheek and call her babygirl?” Oscar asks.

“It’s just the alcohol,” Lando mutters. 

Oscar laughs. He doesn’t believe the tiniest bit of it. Lando makes things even worse for himself by grabbing you on a soft way by the shoulders and pulling your body onto his. You show him a confused look, but then you allow your body to lean onto Lando. His hand find yours, he plays with your fingers before interlocking them with his own. 

“And that’s the alcohol as well?” Oscars asks while laughing.

“Fuck off mate,” Lando sighs.

“Weren’t you talking with that other girl?” You can’t help yourself and ask Lando. When you look around and let your gaze wander to where Lando was sitting before, you notice that the girl is already looking at Lando and you. You quickly look away from her, feeling uncomfortable with the stare. 

“Which girl?” Lando asks you. “The one who’s looking at us,” you reply.

“Oh, her,” he says, “She’s a bit too interested to be honest. So smile at me and act like you love me,” he continues to joke. You do what he says, you press a small kiss against Lando his cheek. You don’t even have to act like you love him. You know all to well that it’s not an act. It has never been an act. 

+++

When you’re finally in the club, you’re quick to find the dance floor. You’re dancing for fun with a couple of McLaren team members. Lando has find a place on the sidelines where he can focus all his attention on you. He laughs when you almost bump into another girl. Oscar has found a place next to his teammate. The words Oscar is saying aren’t landing by Lando, he’s way too focused on you. 

He’s completely focused on you and the dress you’re wearing. The dress has been on his mind for the whole evening. It’s unfair how good you look in it. It causes him to want to spread your legs for him so he can pull out another orgasm from you. Or for you to drop on your knees, so he can fuck your mouth and finally can get rid from the sexual tension that has been hanging around him since his podium. Or just your hand firmly around his boner to give him his release. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t care how it happens as long as there happens something. And the best would be if you were just close to him, showing everyone that the beautiful girl on the dance floor belongs to him. Only you don’t. It causes him to have a headache. Why aren’t you his? He really needs to change this.

“There’s really nothing going on between Y/N and you?” Oscar asks Lando.

“No,” Lando quickly states.

“So you won’t mind if my friend asks her on a date?” Oscar continues to ask, “Since you acted a bit weird with Pedro giving her attention..”

Lando doesn’t even react to the question, he can only focus on one thing. “Who?” He asks. His head is filling up with all kind of questions. Which friend from Oscar wants to date you? Would you date that friend as well? He lets out a sigh. This is the worst.

“Logan.”

Logan? Does Logan even know you? Do you even know Logan? Lando starts to wonder if he ever saw the two of you talking. Would you say yes to Logan if he asks you on a date? Fuck. Why didn’t he thought about this before. Of course there’s someone interested in you. 

“Do they even know each other?” Lando sneers. He can’t help himself.

“Kinda,” Oscar shrugs, “they talked a couple races ago when Logan DNF’ed. She made him feel a lot better about it.” 

“Fuck,” Lando sighs. He can’t hold the words back anymore. “Fuuck.”

Oscar laughs. “That says enough, don’t you think?” 

“No,” Lando quickly mutters, “I mean if he wants to he should, you know. It’s up to Y/N what she says.”

This time it’s Oscar who lets out a sigh. “Lando just be honest, you like her so you don’t want anyone else to date her. Why aren’t you telling her that?”

Lando doesn’t answer to that question. He wachtes you dance and sip from your drink. When he watches the people around you, it’s not surprising to him how many guys are doing the same as him. Watching you. He’s quick to realize that Logan, or Pedro, aren’t the problem. There’s always someone who would want to date you. The problem is always that you aren’t his. How is he ever going to fix this mess? What if you meet someone who you want to date? Someone who can offer you anything you want? Like being always there for you instead of needing you to travel across the world with them? What if he loses you want you start to date someone else? Lando can’t stand by the sidelines while watching you have a relationship with someone else. Right? He would lose his mind. 

It doesn’t even surprise Lando when he sees Logan coming closer to you. He sighs. It’s pretty normal that after a race a lot of the drivers are clubbing, so he isn’t surprised that Logan is her as well. But still, it stings. It’s stings even more when you greet Logan with a hug before talking to him full with enthusiasm. He wachtes away. He can’t see this. 

“You’re an idiot,” Oscar sighs when he notices the way Lando looks away from you for the first time that evening.

“I know,” Lando mutters, “and you don’t even know the worst parts.”

“Worst parts?” Oscar asks curiously. 

Lando knows that everything that’s happening between you two is a secret, but he also knows that Oscar will keep it that way. Right now he really can use some advise from someone. Oscar can probably give him some, he even has a great relationship. Lando stops questioning it and starts to confess to Oscar. This must be because of the alcohol, otherwise he would have thought about it longer.

“The short version is that we’re fucking,” Lando confesses, “or not really fucking, but doing a lot of other sexual stuff. Probably fucking soon.”

Oscar almost drops his drink. Then he lets out a loud laugh. “And you’re still doubting if she wants you?” He asks. “Fuck man, you’re stupid. Why would she do those things with you without being interested into you?”

“Because she wants sexual experience,” Lando explains.

“But still, why with you? There were probably enough others who wanted to help.”

“I offered,” Lando states.

“Same question, why did she chose you?” 

Lando doesn’t reply at first. He watches Logan and you again. The two of you are dancing. Logan looks if he tries to get as close to you as he can manage. Fuck, that should be him. Lando curses himself, he should have make sure that he was on the dance floor with you. Embarrassing himself, but having fun with you. 

“I don’t know why with me, probably because I offered and she didn’t have to contact others to ask. She’s embarrassed about her experience, so she probably wants to keep it a secret,” he explains to Oscar.

“Lando she won’t be doing this with you if there wasn’t some sort of interest,” Oscar quickly states.

Lando just shakes his head to disagree. He focuses on Logan and you again. There’s still a lot of dancing happening and it’s getting more closer with the second. He can’t watch this anymore. Without saying anything else to Oscar he starts to walk towards Logan and you. He hasn’t even a plan, but he needs to do something abut this. Oscar lets out a laugh when he notices the way Lando is walking towards you. He didn’t tell his teammate that he told Logan before that it would be dumb to ask you onto a date, since you’re too close with Lando. Oscar believes that Lando needs a push and this could be exactly the push Lando would have needed. And who is he to not give his teammate that much needed push?

It doesn’t take Lando long before he stands in front of you. You stop dancing to focus on him. What’s Lando doing? Logan also stops dancing and wait for what’s going to happen. Oscar already warned him for this, but he still wanted to try. “Can we go back to the hotel?” Lando asks you. 

He notices that Logan takes a bit more distance from you. Something he’s glad abut. You look worried at Lando. 

“Back to the hotel?” You ask him, “What’s going on?”

“I’m not feeling well,” Lando lies. Although he doesn’t feel well, but that can be easily fixed if every guy would leave you alone. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask him worried. 

“Just a bit too much alcohol,” Lando continues to lie. He can’t confess that he isn’t feeling well because of the attention every boy is giving you tonight. You send Lando another worried look and get closer to him. 

“Let’s go back to the hotel then,” you tell Lando. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your night right now,” Lando says apologetic. He almost feels ashamed of himself for acting like this, but he can’t help it. He needs you for himself right now. He wants nothing more then to lay in bed with you right now and to cuddle up against you, instead of worrying about every guy around you. 

“It’s fine Lan,” you quickly say. 

Then Logan starts to meddle in the conversation. He sounds a bit unsure when he talks, a bit nervous even, “I can also bring you back to the hotel?” He suggests, “If you want to stay longer of course.”

“That’s really sweet of you Logan,” you say. Before you can say anything else Lando is talking as well. He feels himself getting more frustrated. Who does Logan think he is by suggesting this? He doesn’t even think about his next actions. He just acts. Word are quickly leaving his mouth. 

“We share the room and I only have one pass,” he states with a harsh undertone in his voice, “so you can’t.”

You look confused at Lando. Why is he acting like this? Doesn’t he notice that Logan is trying to help? Why is he this rude? Since when can Lando even act like this? You don’t know this side of him. 

“Oh sorry I didn’t know,” Logan quickly says, “I just wanted to help.”

You feel ashamed when Lando continues to talk. “That’s unnecessary,” he states. You quickly take a step closer to Logan, you don’t realize that it causes you to stand in front of Lando while doing so. Lando on the other hand is quick to notice. 

“It’s really sweet of you Logan,” you say, “but I’ll get back with Lando. Enjoy the rest of your night.” To give your words a bit more power, you give Logan a quick hug. When Lando sees your action he almost loses his mind. He feels like the most childish person when he grabs your hand and drags you away with him. He doesn’t take the time to say goodbye to anyone, he just needs to get you into the car with him. When he is outside the club, he starts to feel more ashamed for his actions. He barely dares to look at you. What are you thinking about him right now? You are probably really annoyed with him. And he gets it.

“What’s wrong with you Lan?” You ask confused, Lando is just happy that you still use the nickname for him. “Logan only tried to help.”

Lando doesn’t reply at first. He lets out a small scoff. Of course you’re dragging Logan into this as well. 

“You acted really rude,” you tell him annoyed.

“Of course side with Logan,” Lando sighs, “give me an even bigger headache right now.”

You let out a sigh. “You’re acting crazy,” you state frustrated. 

Lando doesn’t reply anymore. He’s glad when the taxi is standing in front of him. He opens your car door and walks towards the other side to take place himself. He knows that you’re right, but he really doesn’t want to confess that right now. Unsure he grabs your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours. He smiles when he notices that you aren’t pulling away from him, but even give him a small squeeze. 

After a short taxi ride, Lando and you are quick to find your way back into the hotel. When standing in the room, you change your outfit. The dress from before quickly lands onto the floor and is replaced by a shirt from Lando. Lando can only focus on you walking around in his shirt with only a thong underneath. He wants nothing more then to hold you right now. Maybe remind you of your earlier promise, he still has an awful hard dick that can use some help. 

You on the other hand are thinking about other things. One of them being Logan. “You should apologize to Logan,” you softly tell Lando after a comfortable silence, “He only tried to help us.”

“He tried to get in your pants,” Lando scoffs annoyed. The frustrated feeling of before is coming back rather quickly. Why are you starting about Logan again? He wonders if you really don’t realize that Logan only wanted to bring you back to the hotel so he could get more from you? 

“Lan,” you sigh annoyed, “now you’re just exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” Lando quickly replies.

You let out a big sigh and take a seat onto the bed. Lando is already laying in it. “You are,” you tell him while sending you an angry glance, “not everyone who’s nice to me is trying to get in my pants.”

“But he was,” Lando exclaims with a raised voice. 

“Why?” You ask.

“Because Oscar told me he wants to date you,” Lando confesses.

“So?” You ask, “That doesn’t mean he wants to fuck me.”

“Y/N,” Lando sighs, “just believe me on this one.”

“Even if he is, why do you care?” You eventually ask Lando, you’re done with this conversation but it doesn’t seem to be even close to ending. You can’t help yourself from questioning it. Why does it seem like Lando cares this much about Logan wanting to date you and maybe wanting to have sex with you? It gives you a tiny bit of hope that Lando might return your feelings. Could that be possible? Is he just acting jealous? It almost seems so. 

“I uh,” Lando stutters a bit, he doesn’t know what to say. “I uh, I just want to be sure that your first is with someone who cares about you,” he says after a bit of stuttering. That is a good reason, right? 

“Are you afraid you won’t be my first anymore?” You ask Lando confused. 

Lando doesn’t know what to answer. He realizes that you’re right. He is afraid that things will change and that you don’t want - and need - him anymore. He really wants to be your first. “Maybe,” he confesses eventually. 

“Don’t,” you tell Lando. 

“Don’t?” He asks confused.

“You’ll still be my first,” you tell Lando, “I trust you and I want it to be with you. But..”

“But?” Lando asks. 

“But you still need to apologize to Logan, otherwise I will find someone else,” you joke.

“Fucking hell,” Lando mutters annoyed. He grabs his phone from his nightstand. You lay down on the bed next to him in the mean time. You get yourself close to Lando, you lay your head on his chest. Lando plays with your hair while scrolling in his phone, you watch the screen with him. You see Lando searching for Logan’s contact. When he finds him, he’s quick to type a message. 

Lando: Hey Logan. Sorry for my behavior tonight. It was rude, I understand now that you were only trying to help. Sorry.

You smile when Lando hits send. What the both of you don’t know is that Logan and Oscar are reading the message right now together. “I told you so,” Oscar tells Logan, “She has him all wrapped around her finger.”

When Lando puts his phone away, he is quick to focus his attention back on you. He doesn’t have to do anything to get your attention as well. You’re quick to move closer to him and press your lips onto his. The kiss was meant innocent, but Lando is quick to turn it into a make out session. 

“Fuck babygirl,” he mutters, “I’ve been so fucking turned on the whole night because of you.” 

You look at Lando. All the annoyed, mad feelings from before have melted away like snow for the sun. He grabs you and moves you on top of him. When you’re sitting on his lip, you feel his boner pressing on your body. 

“Can’t get the taste of you out if my system,” he continues to say, “Have been thinking about all the things you can do to me all night. All the ways you can make me cum. Fuck.”

You grind your ass on Lando his lap. “You like that don’t you?” Lando asks you, “When I talk dirty to you.” You show him a nod. “My dirty girl,” Lando continues to speak. His words cause you to grind on his crotch again. You feel the pressure from his boner sliding on your pussy. Fuck that feels good. 

“I need you to do something about it,” Lando groans when you take his boner into your hands. You won’t let him say that twice to you. Without giving it a second thought, you unclasp Lando his belt. Within seconds you pull down his pants and boxers. His boner springs free. When you take his boner into your hand and slowly stroke it. Your small movements cause Lando to let out a soft relieved moan. 

You try to remember what Lando likes. After a few firm strokes, you move down your head towards Lando his member. You place a few small licks around the top, making it wet. After that you carefully take his boner in your mouth. Slowly bobbing your head while sucking harshly on it. You use one of your hands to stroke the bit of his dick that doesn’t fit in your mouth. 

Lando sees the way you subtle move your head a couple times to remove the hair from coming in your sight. He lets out a low chuckle. Then he grabs your hair with one of his hands. Pulling it behind your head in a ponytail and keeping it in his hand like that. You increase your pace a bit. 

“Babygirl,” Lando suddenly says, “I’m going to give you a pace, but if it’s not okay you need to let me know. Okay?”

You remove your mouth from his boner only to tell Lando yes. When your mouth is back around his dick, Lando firms his grip on your hair. Slowly he shows you what he means. He softly pushes and pulls to make you get on his pace. He lets out a loud moan. “Fucking hell baby.”

Slowly you use your other hand to explore Lando his dick a bit more. Eventually you let your hand find Lando his balls. You use your finger to trace over them. For Lando this is a bit new as well, he always knew it would feel good but former girlfriends weren’t interested in it. He loves the way you doing things like this out of yourself. He doesn’t need to ask, you just explore the exact same things as he wants. When he feels your hand form around his balls and softly squeeze them, he lets out the hardest moan so far. It feels insanely good. 

You continue doing the same over again. It doesn’t take Lando long before he feels his balls getting a bit more tight. He lets out multiple moans before one hard grunts leaves his lips. It says enough to you. Lando his grip on your hair loses. A salty taste enters your mouth. You swallow it before sucking slowly until Lando is completely empty. 

“You’re the best,” Lando eventually says to you. You show him a smile. Lando pulls you close to himself, causing you to land on his chest with your body again. He plays with your hair. “Don’t give me that innocent look,” Lando says with a small smile, “because I know for sure that you’re not that innocent.” You show him a smile again, not knowing what to reply.

“I can’t wait to find out how you feel around my cock,” Lando tells you. 

“I’m ready for that,” you tell Lando shyly, “Maybe we can do that soon?”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

Then Lando realizes that he has no idea what will happen after that. Will this thing between you two end when Lando takes your virginity? He realizes that he needs to think about that and talk to you about it. But for now he focuses his attention onto you again. He presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

part seven

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[prael]

c'est la vie - Kim Minju

Part 3 of folie à deux.

IZ*ONE Kim Minju x Male reader smut. (ft. a sprinkle of Wonyoung)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Masterlist word count: 10,553

c'est la vie - that's life

"I'm so fucked."

Fists clenched and eyes scrunched, you’re venting out loud to no one in particular. You repeat it, "I'm so fucked." Louder this time—to the sky. Well, more accurately, to the plastered ceiling of this little hole-in-the-wall. Either way, the solution isn't there.

It isn't at the bottom of a bottle either, but you're determined to find that out the hard way.

"Is there a friend I can call for you?" The woman behind the bar has stopped polishing off the glasses; interrupted by what she would say are the ramblings of a madman.

"There's no coming back from this." You throw your head forward, catching it in your now open hands, elbows resting on the wooden bar top.

"Sir? I'm going to call you a—"

"I don't need a cab." You draw your head from your hands and open your eyes—allowing the light to pour onto you from one of those little round lights above you. The drink sits in front of you, unfinished. Hard liquor in a tumbler just waiting to be thrown back like the three before it—a plea you can’t ignore. The large ice cube rests against your nose as you pour every last drop onto your tongue and swallow. "I do need another drink."

With the glass set back down, your body slouches and sinks. Eyes stare down at the empty glass and your face is cold to the world, cold to the woman across from you. You must reek of self-pity, the smell thick in the air. 

Let’s be honest, you've had far better days.

She's got her delicate fingers around the neck of the bottle, pouring you a fresh drink and placing it on a napkin, "you know, you're not the first person to stumble into this bar wearing a face like that."

You slide your eyes over to the glass and reach for it. "I highly doubt it."

"But, few of them show up this early, even if it is a Friday." She has a point: you’re propping up the bar alone and drowning your sorrows solo. In fact, there are only two other people in this whole place, sitting together at a table. "So what’s your story?"

"Does there have to be one?" You grip the glass in your hand, giving the stranger the best smile you can fake.

She steps back and brushes her hand on her trousers as she laughs, "I've seen many broken men and women sit at this bar and spend too many hours drinking their life savings, with hearts broken, dreams smashed and most of all, mistakes they regretted. But you seem different."

"Oh really, why's that?" Your eyes stare into your drink. It stares right back at you.

"You're still young."

"Does being broken have an age requirement?"

She shifts and reaches for something, something you can't quite make out, being locked in the most intimate of stares with your drink. It’s the sound of her placing down another fresh glass that gives it away. "Actually, yes. Because you've still got time to work with."

"That's the irony. All I have left is time."

“Then you have to believe in yourself to make the most of that time.” Her words are heavy, like their meaning holds weight within her too.

She lets you dwell on it for a moment while she pours her own drink. She settles herself against the bar top, across from you, resting her head in one open hand. Her gaze burns into you like sitting in the sun. You can feel something else too, a soft vibration in your pocket.

You finally break away from your staring contest with your drink—one you lost anyway—to fish your phone out of your pocket. The screen alights with Gaeul’s name and is followed by the words ‘1 new message’.

After a swipe, it reads, ‘wtf where are you? what happened?’ but the thought of sending a reply never crosses your mind. And, just in case, you switch it over to silent.

“Is that her?” The woman gently waves a slender finger towards your phone as you put it back where you found it. “The reason you’re here?”

"Do you press all your customers like this?"

“Only the interesting ones,” she returns her hand to her glass, taking a sip of it before continuing, “and there’s sadly so few of those.”

"And if I'm not as interesting as you think?"

"Then I'll buy you a drink.” She tilts her glass at you. "For the trouble."

"And if I'm fascinating?"

"I'll still buy you a drink." Another sip from her glass as her lip gloss stains the rim, "maybe two."

"Then no, it wasn't her." And here's the thing, you don't know who to blame. Yourself? Probably. Wonyoung? Maybe. The mystery cameraman who got it all on video? Almost definitely. 

“But it is another woman, right?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m not exactly rushed off my feet here.”

You sigh, unsure exactly where to begin with this whole mess. The complete story is a long one. You could tell her about your family—the trouble at home and why you had to leave—but that’s not for anyone to know.

"I transferred here. Moved here with my brother. He's at work right now, and he will be late into the evening." You pause to take another drink. Another burning sensation. "To keep food on our table and keep me in college." 

Even saying so little it weighs on you, the feelings of regret and the feeling that you're saying too much. You bite your tongue and hesitate.

"So why are you here and… you know... not at college?" She pushes you for more. She flicks a finger towards you with her free hand and then brings her glass to her lips.

You drag your eyes up for the first time and finally inspect the woman across from you.

She's your age, roughly—if you had to guess. She's pretty, and that part you're more confident about. She wears her long brunette hair over one shoulder, running in a loose wave, over her slate black blazer, which sits over a small black tee, cropped at the waist. She smiles when your eyes meet hers. And maybe she had no idea, and perhaps it's all subconscious, but the tips of her slender fingers squeeze slightly against the glass now that you're paying her some attention.

"I never got your name," you say with curiosity laden in your voice.

"Minju."

"And why is a young woman like you working here on a Friday afternoon?"

"Were you not the one telling me about your troubles?" She follows her words with a soft laugh.

"Call it quid pro quo. You answer and then I’ll tell you all about it," you say.

"Fine." She stands back upright, adjusting her blouse with a few gentle touches. The way her finger glides across the collar and tugs at it slightly. It's more than a little distracting. She cuts a sleek hourglass shape out of the shelves of bottled booze behind her. "I'm between gigs right now."

"Gigs?"

"Ah." She waves a finger. "My turn."

Minju tilts her head and then rests her palm against the bar—leaning toward you and eyes focused. It’s like an inspection and you instinctively sit up straighter.

"So why are you here?" she asks.

"Expelled. About..." You bring up your wristwatch into view. "About an hour ago."

Her brows go up a fraction and her eyes narrow on you again, almost as if to accuse you of lying to her. But her expression softens almost instantly. You would never notice if not for watching every second in painstaking detail. Her widening eyes reveal to you the thoughts passing through her mind as she racks her brain for a reason you would be expelled.

"You said that you're between gigs, so what is it you do?" you say, shifting the focus back away from yourself.

"I sing. I dance. I model. I act." She pauses with a bitter look. "However, right now, I serve drinks." You get it; she looks the part. That much is clear. She's far too gorgeous to be spending her time polishing glasses and serving screwdrivers to burnouts at happy hour. She looks every bit like a woman who should be so much more, but this isn't Hollywood, and the storybook tale of the waitress who makes it is so cliché.

You swill the last of your drink around in the glass, watching the little tidal pattern inside. The way the ice cube moves with the current, it hypnotises, entrances. You speak, looking down into the amber-hued ocean within your glass.

"And you have the talent to back up the looks?"

"So they tell me." There's no joy in the words or the tone. No pride or smug sense of achievement. If anything, it's dismissive. “It’s just a slow period. That’s life.”

“C’est la vie.” You catch her gaze as you utter the phrase under your breath.

Minju continues despite you, “but things will turn around soon enough. I'm going places."

"Every actor who is going places never seems to get there." Maybe it's the alcohol or maybe it's because, right now, you hate this city and everyone in it, but everything that comes out of your mouth is uncharacteristically curt.

And look, you regret it as soon as it leaves your mouth but that doesn't change the way you just dismissed her. It wasn't meant personally, but it's hard to stop your thoughts from curdling into words right now.

Minju is quiet, and the air becomes heavy. You swallow deep and finally look her in the eyes again. There's something there, some little flicker of emotion untold that gives her away for a moment. She is a woman told repeatedly that she has the world at her feet, but the hard truth of it is that she's here, working away behind the bar because, in fact, life is a lot more cruel.

Absorbed by her vulnerability, you feel the need to backtrack, "that's not—"

"So what, you look at me and see nothing but a girl who couldn't cut it?" There's a flash of fire in her eyes. A burn. A spark that sets the sky alight. A very attractive spark.

The way she fires it back. The passion in her words. The tension building between you as your eyes linger on each other.

You can't explain the attraction, but you can certainly feel it.

"No," you fire back without hesitation, leaning towards her, "what I see is a woman working two jobs just to afford a place to live." Your confidence rises with the alcohol pumping its way through your system and you do your damnedest to rescue the situation. "What I see is a girl with stars in her eyes and a dream that somehow she still keeps alive where so many more have given up. I'm not judging."

Silence.

Sudden, silent, and slightly sinister.

"Yeah, you were," Minju's eyebrows arch in amusement, "but that's fine, I'll take my turn now."

As she leans forward, there are words on her tongue. She looks ready to bite back, but she's looking over you, across the room, watching the only other two people in the bar leave. And for a minute, everything is held in suspense, you are locked together in silence, the clap of their shoes echoing through it. Then the sound of the door, and the brief exposure to the outside world, it's the rain pouring and the cars passing by and then it's the slam shut. It's just you and her, Minju, alone under the dim of the lights.

"So what was it?" she finally breaks the silence.

"Hm?"

"What got you expelled?"

You could lie. There's an opportunity for that. But what's the point? Even though she's a stranger, it doesn't feel like there's a risk if you just come clean and spill your dirty little secret, besides, you owe her one now.

"I got caught fucking in the library." The truth comes out plain and simple. It’s a brazen statement to make in the middle of the afternoon to a stranger. Her gaze shoots down at you. Whatever she expected, it wasn't that.

"I’m sorry, you were caught fucking in the library?" She repeats it out quizzically as if she’s taking time to process. Minju has this way of talking—a lilt in her voice. She has a tone and a pitch that rises and falls with each word. She's amused, that much is clear, by the slight smirk that has curled a corner of her mouth to accompany her sound.

"We were alone, or at least we thought we were, and it’s not like we hadn’t done it before, but apparently, there's evidence." You gesture your empty glass at her, a secondary conversation, unspoken but clear that you need another drink before you tell her anything else.

In doing so you see how she tenses her lips together, holding in her laughter at the thought. She’s holding and you’re watching until she finally cracks, her grin wide and laughter loud.

"Now I am the one judging you. You made fun of me for trying while you're too busy swinging your cock around to even try. So, you tell me, who is the stupid one here?"

"Alright I deserved that one." Your hand had been holding the empty glass to her but now you bring it to rest against the bar top. "In my defence, it's not like I had much of a choice. That girl..."

"Here we go. Let's see how you justify this one." She finally takes your empty glass and when the edge of her fingers brushes across the back of your hand, they linger for far too long. And when she draws back, dragging away those long, delicate fingers from your own, you find yourself suddenly cold.

"It's not like I could turn her down if I wanted to. Also I would never have done it in the library if she didn't make me."

"She 'made' you. Go on." There's scepticism in the words. Her mocking tone teasing you as you watch her turn to the shelves behind her, eyes scanning the possibilities.

"No one says no to her. Never."

"Wow, sounds like quite a woman," she says, ever more playful, as she reaches for the top shelf. Her blazer is pulled up now, ever so slightly exposing her back above the waist of her trousers. Trousers hugging the subtle swell of her hips. Her small, tight, round ass is defined through the fitted fabric. You can't look away.

"Everything comes easily for her. There are literally men fighting for her affections. They would die for her," the words tumble from your mouth, as your gaze lingers.

You must have been lost in the daze and absent-mindedly following the contours of her thighs because by the time you shift focus to her face, she's peering at you from over her shoulder. Eyes sharp as daggers, as if to say it’s a little too obvious.

"Wow she sounds like a real piece of work. I know someone like that too. " Minju turns with bottle in hand, hair swirling around her as she does so. She's graceful. Unbothered and unhurried by anything. "This one is perfect. This bottle is older than me."

She pours two fresh drinks with more ice in each.

"Am I going to regret this in the morning?" you question as the weight of the glass finds your hand.

"You might. But at this moment? No."

You trust her, somehow, inexplicably; you do.

She asks, “so, what will you do now?” it’s a question as funny as it is difficult to answer. 

The truth is that you haven’t got the slightest clue. You tell her as much and try to explain it as best you can, and her eyes soften as you share the details. It’s supposed to be a back-and-forth—quid pro quo—but she’s pressing you with question after question: how long have you known her? Is she pretty? Where does she see you in all of this?

“You and her. Still a thing?”

Minju is on your side of the bar now, sitting by your side with little caution about personal space; there’s not an inch of space between you. Her thigh presses against you and her upper arm is flush with your own.

"Me and Wonyoung were never a thing, not really."

Minju stops dead and chokes, holding her throat, and forcing the drink down. Her whole body shifts. She nearly falls off the bar stool and, after steadying herself, she stares blankly forwards.

"Wonyoung? Jang Wonyoung?"

"Yeah, her." The new drink meets your lips and its taste is a hell of a lot richer than the cheap stuff you were pouring down. It’s laden with a smoky taste over sweet tones.

There's a silence even after you finish taking a drink. Something untold hangs in the air. You know it. She knows it. She's here on the verge of telling you something, but what? And you sit here and wait, despite the racing of your heartbeat.

"I should have known." Minju shakes her head, laughing, but without a smile.

"Should've known what?"

"You're Wonyoung's new toy. I should have guessed as soon as I saw you, she has this effect on people."

You stiffen at that. It's always the truth that hurts the most and the fact is you really were just a toy. A convenient dildo.

"You know what you need right now?" She twists on the stool, and suddenly, you've got Minju looking straight at you. Eyes locking with you. Right there. Looking up at you. So close. Right there, leaning back ever so slightly so her chest arches towards you, accentuating her small breasts, straining against her shirt.

"Drinking helps," you reply, raising your glass.

"Yes, but so does fucking."

That’s a line. It’s one that shouldn’t come as a surprise because a girl like this probably has a lot of experience in being wanted, so who is to say she can’t turn the table for once? But in one breath you’re giddy, taken out of yourself and feeling drunker by the moment. Not on the booze, but her. She is intoxicating.

It takes you a few seconds to notice but her free hand slips on your leg, rubbing and caressing as it snakes further and further up.

"What?" You ask as if it needs confirmation and in those long few moments, you think you must have imagined it. And the same way a nervous laughter rises, the laughter spilling out of your throat, she is quick to quench the growing dread inside of you by sliding her palm across your bulge.

"Wait here." Something has switched inside her. You don’t know what, but either way, it's got her standing up and strutting towards the door. With each step, she opens her body language. A growing swagger, letting you see the sway of her hips. Left and right. Just enough to catch the eye. And oh boy, does your eye get caught. You couldn't pull your gaze away now if you wanted to.

She's swiping hands at the door now and flicking the locks. Then she's pulling the blinds shut. A giggle comes from Minju as she spins back to face you. She runs her bottom lip through her teeth and stares right into you.

You feel exposed but, strangely, comfortable. It's so very odd; with no clue as to what happens next. It has your heart pounding out of your chest.

"I thought you were alone tonight because you were upset, but no, I understand it now. You're frustrated. Angry. Stressed. She used you and got away with it."

She kicks off her heels, loses a few centimetres in height, and is walking barefoot across the floor - toward you. Her shoulder rolls to one side and then to the other as her body rises and falls, sashays with the pace of her hips. She can see that you're stuck. You’re rooted to the seat with a dumb look on your face, and yet she saunters ever closer.

“I am a little confused,” you finally say. She's so close that all your senses are lost to the approach of Minju's swaying frame. Her curves, her body, her gentle steps, the way her perfume smells—it's consuming you.

She ignores you and continues, "I’m frustrated too. I'm so frustrated that I'm wasting time in this damn bar. I'm angry at all the auditions that ended up with producers rejecting me. I know exactly what you're feeling. You're angry at the world and everyone in it." Her tone grows raspier. More raw and less stable. "You feel alone. Hung out to dry and in need of attention."

"And you feel the same?"

"Yes, and I'm hungry. Starved of any real satisfaction. You told me I’m going nowhere and I guess it means I need a little attention, too."

You watch her eyes flittering as she looks you up and down. The sultry grin she wears shows she likes what she sees.

"So what are you going to do about it, Minju? What is the solution?" You drop a look down to the soft and slender flesh of her neck.

"No strings. We get this all out of our system." Minju leans in. Lips so close to yours. She stays there. It's torture. "You let all that shit out. Take out your pent-up stress, frustration, anger."

"On you?"

"Exactly. You'll feel better. I will too. Because right now…" Her nose presses against the side of your own. Soft skin. Gentle pressure. "I need it rough."

Her hand lands on your thigh again, rubbing down the denim of your jeans.

The offer is enticing. It has your head swimming with dirty images of everything the two of you could do together, and your cock? Well, that's already twitching in your underwear.

"This isn’t going to help, it will just make things worse."

"Can they really get any worse?"

Minju brings your hand, hers and yours, to her waist. Your thumb feels the soft material of her shirt, and your fingers touch that small patch of skin below it.

"Are we prepared to find out?" Your lips graze gently against hers. The thrill. The electricity in the air.

"I’m ready. More than ready. Just this once, do what you want to do and make me the star of your fantasy. Use me. Make me everything you need." She plants her lips firmly on yours. You both go quiet, muffled by a kiss.

Nothing to do but feel.

Minju's grip tightens on your leg, and yours on her waist. The other hand slides up to her chest, finding her breast, cupping it and feeling her. She opens her mouth. And you follow. Your tongues are colliding and sweeping across one another, eager and desperate.

So you push, guiding the two of you to stand. Minju staggers back, and you're with her every step of the way. Stumbling through a kiss. Hands everywhere. Uncertain. Lost, confused, and passionate. It's an incoherent tumble that takes you both crashing through chairs, pushing them aside until you hit something sturdy. Minju's ass slams against the pool table and she grunts into your mouth.

Her lips drag away and she smiles. "Fuck me."

You grab her by the hips, lifting her onto the pool table.

"I need to see the big cock that’s got Wony all worked up. She wouldn’t settle for anything disappointing." She's fumbling at your waist, struggling with the buckle of your jeans.

"This what you want?" Your words vibrate through her. And when you take a handful of her hair and tug, there's a long, soft, desperate sigh from Minju's parted lips.

"Use me. Abuse me." Her fumbling finally succeeds and the waist of your trousers slackens. "I know how I look, but don't worry, you're not going to break me."

She's pushing at your trousers, your boxers, and when that stiff dick pops out, her smile spreads into a big, stupid grin. It's not an unattractive expression—not really. It just tells the truth. She is excited. 

It’s as clear as day that you are too. You’re rock hard, stiff as hell, ready to fuck, and this, this will give you the chance to let it all out. All of it.

"Perfect." Minju grabs your cock in both hands, still warm, throbbing, and strong. "Just look at this thing."

You pull on her hair again, harder, until she breaks away from you, until she gives way—losing the grip on your cock and falling back on the table. And now you slow as if to savour the moment as you’re sliding your fingers under the waist of her trousers. Not often you get afforded a measure of control.

"C’mon, please, don't be gentle," Minju moans out through gritted teeth. The desperation is painted on her face and that’s the difference here: while a girl like Wonyoung wouldn’t let you go slow, Minju is the type of girl who makes you not want to go slow.

So you pull at the trousers of the girl sprawling out in front of you, tearing the button from the fabric, yanking them open and pulling them down those long, slender legs. The flesh is soft. And to touch, so smooth and light. Minju's breathing picks up—becoming shorter and deeper with each touch to her sensitive skin.

"I might leave marks."

Minju stares you down, hands already massaging over her panties. "I hope you will."

The thought is intoxicating, so much more so than the alcohol in your blood, as your hands paw over her legs; you knead soft skin with a kind of aggression you haven't felt before.

Minju is a rare girl.

Beautiful. And by definition, beautiful women have seen it all before.

But her?

The look she gives? Like no man has ever fully satisfied the itch within her. It's deep-set hunger. The kind that she chases endlessly for.

This hunger makes people behave stupidly, careless and forgetful of the consequences. And maybe you know that all too well but even still it's a risk worth taking. Every choice has led you here and maybe that is your solace, that it's not all downhill from here.

And as your hands reach her small satin panties, the warmth embraces you, and the urge within you grows. You hook your fingers inside and draw the panties aside to expose the tight pink flesh of Minju's cunt.

Not that you would expect anything else, but she is clean-shaven. So smooth. Not a single blemish. This is a girl who kept herself neat and pristine, and yet from her mouth spills utter filth, "just look at how wet this pussy is for you."

She's running her fingers between her lips, showing you everything she has to offer between her legs, showing you where she expects you dick will get put to use.

"This tight fucking cunt can take everything your thick cock has to give."

"Minju, you’re so..." You're standing over her, her legs spread wide beside you, blazer falling from her shoulders leaving nothing covering her but that low-cut top.

Minju stares right at you, eyes fixed, wide and eager, her chest heaves with every deepening breath she takes in. She's wild, reaching for you with one hand, stretching to hold you and then pulling at your shirt to draw you in.

"I'm so needy. Please fuck me." She's whining through closed lips as her other hand slips away from her pussy and glides over her taut abs and leaving her cunt ready to be used. She wants it, desperately, and you're drawing it out. Making it build inside her, and you hold your cock in your hand.

You're stroking, and she's watching. And for all her strain to pull at your shirt, to pull you into her, you hold back. You hold just long enough. Enough for her arm to fall limp. Enough for her to almost give in. "Please..." she trails off with a whimper.

You push the head of your stiff cock against her cunt—against her clit. Your hips roll as you run the entire underside of your cock between her lips. She gasps and breathes deeply. She's holding it all the while. All the time it takes for you to draw your cock back, so the tip is right there. Ready.

She let's go as you do. The air escapes her lungs with a sharp squeal. You let your cock sink in. Slow but persistent, you push further and further, feeling her tensing. Then the clench and tightness overwhelms. She gasps and squirms, wriggles beneath you and her nails scratch at the fabric of the table beneath her.

You push again, sinking your cock as far as you can through her wet hole.

There's a loud snap and squeal from Minju. Pretty girl broke a nail. It flew off somewhere across the room, such is her grip onto the table. "Fuck. So fucking full," she manages, barely. It's more the noise you force from her than any actual communication.

You draw your hips back and she's quick to encourage you, "again," she says.

Your hips are driving forward again, pushing every last centimetre back through her.

Minju whimpers. There's this short, sweet purr from deep within her. You feel her stretch, she moves a little, adjusting herself atop the pool table. There's a warmth that swells, tightens, and pulsates. And you feel the breath come easier. It leaves her as though her body has settled to a kind of ease and pleasure, some form of satisfaction.

You refuse to let her rest. It's not what she would want.

It's not what you want.

You run your hands along her inner thighs, past her knees until you finally reach her ankles and pull them together and hold them aloft. You lift and pull her ass up slightly from the table. She's suspended now while you fuck into her.

The shake of her small frame is completely erotic. Watching her ass and thighs jiggle as you fuck into her. That plump little ass taking slap after slap from your hips.

Her perfect skin reddens as her moans louden the longer you last. There are high-pitched squeals and low and gritty growls. They bounce around the empty bar, reverberating and multiplying—echoing back louder than before.

"Harder." She thinks she can take more. Look, Wonyoung was demanding, she wanted to control everything and push your limits, but Minju? Minju is whole different type of demanding. She's welcoming everything you have with every fibre of her being. Her pussy so eagerly taking it all, and it just seems like no matter what limit you push past, or the more Minju takes, the more she craves.

You pull her legs to you, calves on your shoulders, feet in the air, and your hands move firmly onto her hips. You steady her—ready her. Your grip bruises the tender skin (hey, it's what she wants) and then you fuck her like your life depends on it. Your cock pumping inside with reckless abandon.

"Keep going! Just like that! Fuck!" her voice rises over the rhythm of your low grunts, and the crack of your hips slapping against her ass.

Minju's face twists, red and flushed. She's so tense. Muscles tight around the neck and her teeth buried in the soft flesh of her lower lip. Her voice is low and raw, growling, as she pleads for more with words you can't pretend to understand. It's not eloquent or graceful... In fact, it's that incoherence that makes this all the better—so utterly unbothered, unconcerned with anything other than being thoroughly used, fucked and defiled.

She has that hungry glaze in her eyes when you look down upon her, a girl being exactly the kind of filthy thing she promised to be. And those eyes only draw you in, you're pushing over her, folding her legs further against her body until she's truly helpless. Pinned to the table. Bent in two. No ability, nor want, to stop you from dominating her.

"I'm gonna—" she tries to speak until you press down, right into her. She squeezes your cock inside that tight, creaming hole. Then she whines, loud.

So loud.

Her back would arch high if it could. But she can't break free. You have her completely immobilized with your upper bodyweight. And fuck does she love every second of it. She's got handfuls of her shirt, pulling it, clutching, writhing. Ecstasy courses through her and eyes roll.

And now she's rolling, you're turning her. Ankles in your hands, you have pulled out and you're flipping her onto her front, face down into the table. She’s just… accepting it. Not an ounce of fight in her. Not even a word. Just a throaty moan.

"Be a good girl for me, won’t you?” you’re ordering, “give me your hands.” 

She reaches her arms back over her subdued body and lets you take her delicate wrists.

She submits.

Just lying there prone, her delicate body against the table, with that tight little ass perched on the edge of it, and that skimpy underwear still pushed aside for her throbbing cunt. Those slender legs left hanging either side of you. And go on, you're allowed to think it in the simplest of terms; Minju is sexy. In a word, that's it. Sexy. And yet, the reality is there's so much more you can say. Every soft curve of her toned body is alluring, she is magnetic and inviting, and that cute face peering over her shoulder, long hair spilled all behind it. All the words in the world couldn't do justice to describe her—couldn't properly capture the image.

"What are you going to do to me, daddy?" Oh, she says it so seamlessly, slips it in like it's been on her lips for a while - floating in the atmosphere since you took control. And now that it's finally landed, you feel its weight. It has her voice different; smokey and dripping with sex. And it hits you straight between your legs. 

She licks her lips and tests it out again, just for good measure: "what does daddy think I deserve?" 

One hand holding her wrists against the small of her back, another gripping her hip. Her legs sway lazily, unable to reach the floor. Helplessly dangling, waiting for her fate. And you're not a man to disappoint a girl like Minju.

"I'm going to use the needy little slut in front of me," you say as the head of your stiff cock probes at her cunt, slipping between her wet lips and sliding against her swollen clit. Teasing her. 

You draw it back up again and pushing apart her ass cheeks with the length of your cock. Slipping under the thin fabric of her soaked panties.

She bites her lower lip and whimpers through her teeth. The head of your wet cock slides against her tight asshole, and her hips twitch back. "Whatever you need, take it from me." She means that. There's yearning in every word. The hunger and desire in her voice growing thicker.

You push against her, cock sandwiched between her cheeks, pushing your weight down and pressing her against the table. Her eyes close for a moment, her fingers curl into her palms.

"Yes. Fuck," Minju's desperate encouragement spills through clenched teeth.

You pull back your cock and replace it with your thumb, sliding your hand over her ass and slipping it against her puckered hole.

"Please da—" You slip the tip of your thumb just inside her ass and hold it there while she holds her breath. 

Anticipation— 

Waiting— 

Knowing what's coming next. 

Minju is completely still as you drive your cock into her cunt again. Sinking yourself in so deep—balls deep. Her hands become tight fists and her whole body is shaking. You withdraw and plunge again, and she hisses, breathing from the bottom of her lungs, ragged and shallow, and fighting to speak.

"I'm a dirty, needy, little slut and you’re going to use me—"

You spit at her spread ass, right onto your thumb, and use it to dig a little deeper. "What are you?" your question provokes an instant answer,

"I'm a horny slut. I'm a fuck-hole. That's what I am."

As if it's a reward for her honesty, you fuck her a little harder. Push your thumb a little deeper. She smiles through a howl of ecstasy, the sound swelling into the room.

"Tell me again," you command with another pump of your hips, stretching her even more with your thumb.

Her words crackle, dying in her throat with each impact of your hips, "I'm just a dumb girl who needs to be full of cum."

No sane man would refuse it. Not you, not anyone. Definitely not you at all. You couldn't resist any part of her, but especially not that filthy demand. Especially not with how you felt watching those gorgeous fucking curves ripple every time your hips slapped against her ass.

It's all so easy, how you continue, keeping pace. Thumb deep in her ass. Balls smacking against her soaked pussy with every thrust. It's a pleasure all too overwhelming—a thrill, a sensation, a powerful sense of utter fucking satisfaction and all-consuming desire—an erotic overflow inundates, a swell, an ever-growing crest inside your balls.

"Minju. I'm. Gonna—"

"Cum in me? Please." She's the hallmark of innocence-gone-wrong; the way such words roll off her tongue with playful ease. And she knows all the right ones. The ones that she knows will bring all the right reactions. To speak to you on a primal level. She's at it again, cutting into you, "Inside— Inside me."

Cutting through you like the blade of a knife, right to your core and you obey—fuck.

"Daddy please."

You're incensed.

Dogged with the pounding you're giving her, you have lost control of just how deep you have your thumb in her ass. This is so Indecent. Obscene, even. For you, or for anyone, to just... enjoy something like this. Your body is roaring with lust as her ass and cunt both squeeze on you, clamping you as you drive yourself to the brink.

"I wanna... feel your hot load," her voice comes shaking through the unabated pounding you're inflicting. "Fill me please," she's begging and it sounds a little clearer now, stronger, a little louder, no doubt because she knows it's almost done.

You tug at her wrists, pulling her arms back and her body away from the table. Her head hangs forward beneath a wave of hair. Face covered by sweat streaks across those pretty sculpted features.

"Please, I'll be a good girl and take every drop. All the fucking cum that daddy has. Make me your stupid dirty little slut," she compels, then yelps with every new slam and stroke of the stiff cock being buried into her again and again.

That tight asshole, and that cock-hugging pussy. All the relentless slamming that you have done and will do. All the desires, with the pent-up frustration, the rage and anger and tension that has built up—you release it. Everything goes as you send your load rushing through your cock to paint her insides.

Pushing everything you have in. Pumping. Driving hard.

Her squeals are like music to the soul. Relief and rapture are overflowing. And fuck. What a ride. What a rush. You pump her full until she's gasping for air, struggling in your grasp and making sure to moan each and every dirty word into the atmosphere as she fights to hold on. What a thrill. And as the two of you hit the limits of physical exhaustion and exhilaration, you pull back. Letting the girl lay there, spent, and filled, on the pool table.

Used.

Satisfied.

Sullied.

Minju to you, today, is a feeling of freedom. Fulfilment. Absolution. As she lay limp, arms out, legs hanging, hair draped over her face and pooling on the table—a girl well fucked and on display. She is satisfaction. And she is dripping with your cum.

She slips her fingers under her panties. That shrivelled piece of fabric that clings, or struggles to. Now she pushes them off her hips and they tumble over her feet.

When this beautiful girl speaks her voice has the distinct scratch of someone whose lungs have had the oxygen stolen from them, her throat sore with moaning, "I need more."

She moves to her back and you can only watch in amazement as she turns to you with that flush face. One of her small, delicate hands falling between her legs and her dainty fingers tracing around her cunt—through her pink folds, and dousing them in your leaking cum.

There's a knock at the door. It rattles in the frame. "Open up!" It's the voice of the young man seeking an afternoon drink. You think that, luckily, hopefully, between the blinds, the posters and the neon lights in the windows along with the dim lighting, he can't see in.

"Fuck off!" Minju shouts. Her chest is heaving, and there are the gentle lulls of a giggle welling in her throat.

You notice she hasn't moved the fingers away from her swollen and sticky cunt. There's a building cackle, almost as if she is going to fall into hysterics.

"Let me in! You should be open!"

"I said fuck off!" Minju's climbing from the table with a wild smile on her face. Cum is trailing from her cunt, pooling, oozing, dripping down her thigh, down her leg. Her tongue slides over her lips, she's eying you up like a tiger.

"I want to ride your thick cock." She's breathing the words out heavy and finally pulling that shirt over her head. Small round breasts exposed. Stiff dark nipples. Hard and taught. That bare torso. Tight and tone. Firm and solid. Every muscle defined under glistening, sweaty skin.

She pushes herself against you until you push between a pair of stools and your ass plants against the bar. "You made me a dirty girl, and now I can't stop."

You find her strength a little unnerving, the way seems so unphased and determined. She's running on pure adrenaline. It's hot, sure, a kind of raw passion is certainly not without appeal, but also maybe a touch too overpowering. The way that she grabs at you, a touch forceful, and the way you come together is perhaps too rough and less than elegant.

So unkempt, un-romantic, yet so insanely gratifying as her soft skin finds yours.

You take her body in your arms, lips on one another, exploring mouths with tongues. Grasping the round cheek of her ass as she lifts her left thigh up to your waist. Hand trailing between the two of you and then grabbing a firm hold of your cock, guiding the thing back to her pussy—and not letting go.

This is it. This is where she belongs.

It’s all so natural for her to be on the end of your cock, so much so that she can casually pull away from the kiss to switch her focus to finding a drink on the bar behind you. She’s taking a drink of it now and some of it spills from the corner of her mouth.There is something undignified in that, but utterly perfect nonetheless.

She's grinding against you now, swirling her hips and cooing like a little kitten, as your hands move over her ass and that silken smooth back.

Minju sets the empty glass back down on the bar, and pulls back to meet your eyes. She presses a finger to her tongue, her eyes gleaming and focused solely on you, as she guides a small, playful trail of drool to run over her glistening tits. "Fuck," she breathes through a grin, taking both her hands and smoothing that drool over her chest.

Another knock at the door. Another fist pounded into its frame.

All these fucking interruptions.

"Ugh! Fuck this. Come on, follow me." And before you know it, she's guiding you across the room. "I'm going to ride you until I can't walk. Until I'm so sore that every step will remind me what it felt like to have you deep inside me."

Your phone rings, on the floor in the pocket of your trousers. Who would call right now? Just as one interruption finally concedes at the door, another emerges.

Minju bends to fish it out of your trousers. Her little ass, one cheek marred with a handprint from your grasp, is so close you could bend forward and eat it (any other time, you would.) but it's not that which intrigues you the most. When she rises, slowly, your phone is in her grasp, screen displaying Wonyoung's name.

"This should be fun," Minju chuckles to herself. She swipes the answer button and raises the device to her ear. "Hello?"

Minju reaches out to hold your hand and pulls you toward the staff only door. "Sorry, he's a little busy right now," she says as she walks through the door with you in tow. Her head pivots. Minju stares, eyes boring deep into yours. That sultry expression. The spark of desire igniting all over again.

Minju turns on her heel, letting you go and taking a step back. Thin fingers stroke over her cum-soaked thigh, up and along her wet lips, higher and past her flat stomach, sliding between her firm tits. "He is really busy."

She points at the couch in the break room, gesturing you to sit. You oblige, a little nervous about the turn of events. She's rubbing at her perky little tits as she speaks, "do you want me to take a message?"

"Minju..." you say with warning, ready to take the phone off her. But it's so hard to ignore how utterly sexy she is, and your hand starts to stroke along your shaft. She turns her body and poses, looking over her shoulder to you, and she grins. Minju affords you all the time you need to admire her while she listens to the ramblings of Wonyoung through your phone.

Minju steps toward you, looking down at you. "You need to speak to him?" She rests a hand on your shoulder, and then she clambers over you, straddles you. Her leaking cunt right above your cock. She licks her lips and rubs her slick pussy over your stiff dick, eyes focused on you, head tilted down. "Give me one second."

She holds the phone against her collar and shifts above you, resting the tip of your cock against her hole.

"Minju, let me—"

She sinks onto your cock. 

Inch by pleasurable inch, she takes you. Minju rocks forward and adjusts to settle on the length of your rod. Fully hilted and stuffed. She's a slick sheath of velvet on your stiff rod and you realise then just how perfectly she fits on you. You bite your tongue, trying to not make a noise so you don't alert the woman on the other end of the phone. Minju, however, is careless, and she lets out a soft moan as she shifts on you, readying herself.

Cum still seeps out of her cunt and down your shaft—your own and hers in some messy cocktail. The smell is sharp but unmistakable. It hangs in the air as the unmistakable evidence of what has happened and what will happen again. It’s so potent; invigorating and exciting. A reminder of everything and more, as if you would ever forget it—as if you could ever forget what she has become for you.

Minju draws the phone back to her face and, with a cocky smirk parting her lips, she speaks again, her voice breathy and full of lust. 

"He's in a bit of a tight spot right now." She throws you a wink and continues, "give him ten—wait, no—give him fifteen minutes and whatever is left of him is all yours."

There's the sound of a voice coming through the phone, so unmistakably Wonyoung's but you can't make a word of it out. There's another sound, one much dirtier, that fills the air between the two of you. The soft squelching as Minju rocks and rotates those full hips on you.

"Sorry, what was that?" Minju is stifling a giggle and not-really trying to keep the naughtiness of the situation in check. "Yeah, Wonyoung,you’re right. It's me, Minju," she purrs, biting her lip as her eyes fix on you. Then her tongue flits from her lips, sweeping from left to right.

‘It's me, Minju.’

Look, it’s not really a surprise that they know each other well. It was always a possibility that Minju had just heard of Wonyoung but had never really been acquainted. Thinking back, however, the strength of her reaction to the girl’s name should have told you everything. The truth is now ever so clear. 

Not that Minju is going to let you process it. She will not allow you to focus on anything other than the caress of her pussy over your sensitive cock. She's elegant with the movements of her hips—the motions subtle and slow. Her pace is sinful. She's running her tongue over her teeth and staring at you, enjoying the quiet grunts that rattle from your throat.

"He showed up in—" Her breath hitches and she catches a moan in her throat before it escapes. "In the bar, drinking alone."

There's a gasp, then another as she strokes her hands through the locks of your hair. "Yeah. He was doing that." She's laughing under her breath and looking you up and down. "That thing with his hand, yeah, it's cute."

“What? No. I wouldn’t.” You’re getting half a conversation and none of it makes any sense.

She reaches out her hand to the side of your face, thumb brushing the line of your jaw and her body leaning in. "He's got a sexy jaw line," she admits and then picks up the speed of her movement. 

Her hand slides down your neck and presses into your collar. "His body?" Minju hums as her hips are churning; her body is rolling and her abs are flexing. "Yeah, I think so too."

Minju's back arches and her tiny tits bounce as her movement changes, bouncing rhythmically on your cock. She's adjusting and getting more comfortable on you. As the seconds pass, she's getting rougher and moving ever faster. 

Fuck.

"Well, he's drunk, so it's no surprise."

It's been no end of strange situations over the past couple of months, but this may well be the strangest yet. The girls are having a friendly conversation, but one is on top of a cock that's dripping with her mess.You're still trying to piece it together. They're friends—that much is clear. But there's still so many questions unasked: How? Since when? And why are they having their catch up right fucking now?

Her delicate frame moves fast now and the rise and fall of her chest growing sharper leading to short breaths.

"Mhm," she utters, keeping her voice low and words at a premium. "N—No we aren't." To give her credit, she's actually very good at sounding natural. In some twisted way, it's one hell of an audition for how talented of actress she can actually be. 

But that image comes crumbling down before your eyes.

Just for a moment, the picture freezes. Her mouth is half-open, eyes wide. She bites down on her lip, silencing herself, and then she drops her hand from her ear. She's hitting her fist, clenched around the phone, against her thigh repeatedly as she fights against her own body. There's another choked grunt as she is being pushed ever so close to the edge.

She draws the phone to her face again, breathing in deep and staring at you with those glossy eyes scanning all across your body, and she swallows. 

"We aren't fucking," Minju denies, as your hands creep up from her slender thighs, sliding over those beautiful taut hips, gripping tight and helping pull her back and forth. It's clear, from the way she bites down on her bottom lip, the subtle trembling of her chin, she's hanging on by a thread, ready to lose it at any second.

"No. Don't—" Minju holds the phone out, and she’s looking at it—you can see it too—Wonyoung has just ended the call. "Ah fuck it." Minju throws the phone down on the couch.

She looks at you with a face that's a little lost in thought, considering things unknown to you. All while her body is on auto-pilot, still fucking down onto you. 

After a moment, her face changes, an expression of indifference, of calmness. She smiles a little and rests both of her hands on your shoulders. Staring deep into your eyes, she grows ever more serious with a tinge of intent. She shifts from auto-pilot to manual, tightening the grip with her legs and slowing the pace, but fucking you harder.

Minju rides the ridge of your cock. Your whole length is dragged up and down her insides, setting every inch of you on fire. She moans every time she slams onto you. 

Every time. 

She's falling further apart in front of you—coming completely undone. Eyes rolling and biting that lip again. Hips shifting in all kinds of directions. A cacophony of beautiful grunting sounds that flood the room.

Minju is a woman derailed by pleasure.

"God. Your cock— Your cock is—" She's struggling now and you're only going to make it worse. Using the hands on her hips, you buck yourself up into her, bringing yourself a fraction closer each time. 

"The things this cock— the things you— fuck." Minju has no power to string any kind of sentences together, no matter how many words you force from her. They grow less and less like words you can understand until all that remains are these loud and unashamed gasps. 

Gasp after sharp and unstoppable gasp.

The rush of exhilaration courses through her, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She feels it. All over. It's written on her face, in the way that she moves and in the look in her eyes. A look like that is a hard thing to fake, even for her—there's nothing else like it. Minju is cumming all over your cock and every bit of it is evident in every tense muscle, the quiver in the corner of her mouth, the sheen across her brow, the mist in her eyes as she blinks lazily and tries not to be overcome, overawed, with emotion and all the intense sensations, one wave after another, rippling through her.

You're just about there again too. You try to warn her, but you're fucking up into her with so much energy that you're not sure if the words ever left your mouth. But she knows it, somehow, because she has renewed aggression in her. Even through her orgasm, she's bouncing on your cock with such ferocity. Minju takes hold of your head and draws you into her. Nose to nose. Foreheads touch. "Cum in me again."

They're four of the best words she could have said.

She rides you faster still as you pump rope after hot rope into her cunt, your entire length filling her already overflowing cunt. You cum so hard inside her that the world seems to distort, twist, and wane.

"Yes! Yes!" she shouts in a whisper—her voice stolen by pleasure. "Fill my little pussy."

And with every last ounce of strength you have, you continue. Bucking into her, driving deeper with the last throes of your second load. It's too much. It's beyond pleasure and into pain now, as you have nothing left to give her.

You squeeze at her hips and waist, holding her down and doing everything you can to stop her fucking you.

You're panting. Tired. Done.

Done.

Minju raises herself just enough to slip that ruined and swollen cockhead from the depth of her. You watch as your combined fluids flow out of her onto your leg.

All that filth, a dirty combination of the two of you. Two loads of your cum drained into that one pretty pussy.

Minju is stroking a hand up your stomach, your chest, along your neck and jawline. Across your face and to your chin, so slowly, as if memorising your features.

You watch her body, so fucking perfect, flexing and trembling still and her breasts heave beneath sweat and exertion. Her breath is so ragged that a chuckle emerges between the hard, deep inhales and exhales. She's sweating, perspiration painting her body and strands of long hair matted to her head. So beautiful. Always so fucking beautiful.

She looks into your eyes, studying, thinking. "You feel better now," her voice has returned to the softness of before, low and sultry. "Don't you?"

With a smile, your hands move again, wandering further up. They snake their way around her slender waist. There's something strange, something new, about how they explore her—before, you were quick to set them and demand control. But not now. Now, it's tender and grateful and you have a slow, searching rhythm to the touches that skim the skin across her skin. 

"Yeah." It's honest. You do. She has done her magic, she has restored the balance, and the release has cleared a space within the self, within the mind. You stare back into her gaze, "thank you."

"No." Minju brings her head forward, her face almost colliding with yours. "Thank you. This is exactly what I needed, I really—" She bites down on her lips and hesitates. She pauses for a second before she begins to move herself off you. Standing up straight, wobbling for a moment on the spot before stepping off and the sticky remains of your fucking cling to her inner thighs, glistening on the flesh, thick and trailing down from her hole.

She stares at you for a moment in some profound silence. You sit on the couch, on that musty old fabric, fully spent and staring. She's searching for something, eyes drifting over the room until it catches her eye, and she heads right for it.

You find the strength to stand and as you do, you’re still watching the sway of her body—noticing each bounce of her perfectly formed butt. Your eyes linger, appreciating the body that was given to you, enjoyed by you, and that gave so much to you. Your strength slowly builds from within, your legs are sore, your stomach and core are aching, your lungs feel crushed.

She's fumbling around on the table for something, she's leaning over slightly, her thighs pressed together. She wears sex like a crown—the pride, confidence, and accomplishment manifesting in her natural glow. Minju radiates. There's always something so electric about a woman in the post coital haze.

"You smoke?" she asks.

"No."

"You should," she says as she turns, fishing one out of the pack and perching herself on the edge of the table, crossing over her legs. "Makes you less nervous. You might need it."

There's an elegance in the way she slips the filter between her lips. An attractiveness in the casual way that she places the box down. With practiced poise, she flicks her wrist with lighter in hand so it flips open and her thumb runs against the sparkwheel. Once, twice, and on the third go the light takes and the flame holds steady. Minju lights the end of the cigarette and leans in, taking a deep draw and holding it.

It's mesmerising to watch. The way her mouth closes around the stick, how the soft glow dances upon her features. A darkness in the hollows of her cheeks as the smoke fills within, while she flicks the lighter back closed and slides it on the table.

Minju tilts her head back as her lungs empty, billows and tendrils escape into the room.

In the silence, you've had some realisation.

Minju is cool.

Like— really cool.

So you stand naked, facing her, in the breakroom of the bar she... works in? Owns? Hell, you don't even know that. Doesn't matter. And you finally ask her, "how do you know Wonyoung?"

For a long moment she just smiles, blowing smoke towards you, teasing with silence.

"We go way back," she says, and that is hardly the complete answer that you've hoped for. 

Eventually, she offers more. "High school. We were friends." Minju studies the cigarette, eyeing the burning stub. "Guess you could say we were closer than that. Fuck. If not for—"

Silence.

And yet you wait.

"Well, there was this boy," she continues eventually, offering a soft and resigned smile. "My crush, and then my boyfriend. He was my first. First kiss, first date. First—" Minju looks over to the wall and inhales hard on the cigarette again. She breathes in slowly and you watch the small ember dance, the edges turning amber and glowing bright before she brings the cigarette down and flicks ash in the tray.

"What happened?" you ask, taking a seat alongside her on the table, pushing a cup aside to make space. It's not exactly hygienic, but nothing the two of you just did was.

"Wonyoung happened. Right before we left school, he left me for her and he thought he had a chance, but, well, you know Wonyoung. She's unattainable."

"You blame her?"

"Fuck no. But it didn't exactly bring us closer. He left me for her, she rejected him. What a mess."

There is always something when Wonyoung is in the picture, a messy little tangled web, something hidden behind those silky smiles. She's the reason for many lost loves and many lonely nights. You take a pause to appreciate that fact—to see what's really at the core. She’s the common denominator. Wonyoung—the arrogant heartbreaker.

"So what was all that about? On the phone?" you ask, trying to make some sense of it all.

Minju laughs aloud, tilting her head back and blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. She holds her cigarette between her slim fingers and rests her other hand on your thigh. "I wanted to play with her a little. I wanted her to know. Because well, and no offense, but you’re one of her possessions. She basically owns you. Don't get me wrong, it's kinda hot, but I wanted to see how she would react."

"So you teased her."

"Pretty much."

She laughs a little. There is some spark in her eye, born out of childish fun.

"Don't think she cares," you shrug.

You both turn toward the door that leads back into the bar. You both heard it. Out there. The knock against the front door of the bar.

Minju turns to you, crushing her cigarette into the ashtray beside her. There's a smirk on her lips and amusement in her eyes. In that look alone, there's a lot to unpack; there's an air of knowing, a glimmer of deviousness, and something else lurking beneath the surface.

"Then why is she knocking on the door?"

Next Part

[russo-woso]

Scrunchies || Emily Fox x reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Summary You’d given full responsibility of your scrunchies to Emily and she looks after them with her life, but what happens when Emily loses one of them?

“This one’s my favourite, I’ve had since middle school.” You had told Emily, referring to the scrunchie that ironically had little foxes on it. “I got it soon after I met you because it reminded me of you. It was my little good luck charm when you weren’t around.”

You were sat cuddled up next to Emily on the sofa.

Emily was moving to London that following morning so the two of you were as close as possible - not wanting to be away from each other.

“I want you to take it with you.” You said, Emily looking at you with wide eyes.

You loved your scrunchies and let no body even touch them, sometimes barely letting Emily touch them.

So when the words left your mouth, Emily was stunned.

“Babe, you love this scrunchie.” Emily pointed out

“I know but it’s a piece of me that I want you to have when we’re apart.” You explained

“I’ll guard it with my life.” Emily swore, kissing your head gently as your body melted into hers even more.

“You best do, foxy.”

Emily remembered that conversation like it was yesterday.

She remembered her promise to you and Emily had made a promise to herself that she was going to guard it with her life.

Yet here she was, running around her apartment at 9 o’clock at night, looking for the scrunchie.

You were flying out to England tonight and to Emily’s luck, she’d lost the scrunchie. 

“Less, I can’t find it anywhere. I’ve tipped my apartment upside down and looked all over it, I’ve looked in my car, I looked at training today. It’s no where.” Emily rambled to Alessia over the phone.

“Em, take a breath. Me and Lotte will be there in ten minutes. You go sit down, make yourself a cuppa and we’ll come look for it.”

“You’re a life saver. Thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, foxy. See you soon. Hey, em, remember to breathe.”

Alessia and Lotte arrived with high expectations of finding it.

They arrived and was met with a stressing Emily and a very very messy apartment.

Emily wasn’t kidding when she said she’d tipped her apartment upside down.

The three of them searched high and low in every single room until they were sat in the middle of the living room, still scrunchieless.

“It’s gone.” Alessia breathed out, throwing her hands in the air.

“I don’t know what you’ve done with it, foxy, but my god you’d be good at hiding a body.” Lotte said

“What am I gonna do? Y/N’s gonna be so disappointed.” Emily asked, shaking her head in disbelief at the situation she’d found herself in.

As soon as she’d said them words, her phone rang, your name and a pink love heart displayed across the screen.

The three gunners looked at each other, their eyes wide open.

Hesitantly, Emily answered the phone.

“Hi, baby. I’ve just got to airport. My plane boards in an hour and a half. I just wanted to make sure everything was still okay for me to come over?” You said over the phone

“Hi, babe. There’s nothing on earth that would stop you from coming over. Everything’s all good. Just relaxing on the sofa with a cup of tea.” Emily lied, a panicked expression across her face.

“Good. Anyway, I’ll see you and my scrunchie tomorrow. God I’ve missed the two of you. Maybe the scrunchie a bit more. I’m only joking. I love you, em.”

“Love you too.”

“Well, foxy, looks like you’re screwed.” Lotte concluded

“I’m a dead woman.”

Emily couldn’t get any sleep that night.

Her mind was solely focused on where that damn scrunchie was.

She tried her hardest to remember where she’d last had it.

She hadn’t had it for the last week so it had to be a week ago.

She’d been to training - it wasn’t a the training grounds, she’d been to a few shops - it was securely wrapped round her wrist when she’d jumped in the car after shopping, she’d gone to Liverpool for the match against Everton - she wore it for the game but had taken it out when they reached the hotel.

The memories faded into one after that moment, except she remembered one more thing - the scrunchie being on her bedside table at the hotel.

Emily sat up in her bed, realising exactly where the scrunchie was.

She reached for her phone, googling the hotel they’d stayed at last weekend.

Clicking on the number, she waited as the phone rang.

It rang and rang and rang and Emily thought they wouldn’t pick up - despite advertising that they had 24/7 service.

Eventually, the receptionist picked up and Emily let out a sigh of relief.

“Hi, me and my team stayed at your hotel last weekend and I believe to have left something in my room.”

“What room was it?” The receptionist asked

“152.”

“Emily fox?” She questioned, clearly looking at the history of who’d stayed in the room.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“And what do you think you’ve left?”

“A scrunchie with foxes on. It’s only something small but it means a lot to me.” Emily explained

“Unfortunately whatever is found in rooms is thrown out. The only things that are kept are more valuable items.” The receptionist told Emily

Emily’s face dropped. She’d definitely lost the scrunchie now.

“Okay, thank you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help.”

“It’s fine. It’s my fault. Thank you again.”

Emily hung up, her phone dropping onto the bed as she thought of how disappointed you were gonna be.

Somehow, Emily got to sleep, dreaming of seeing you but also about your face when she told you about the scrunchie.

“Em!” You exclaimed, dropping your suitcase and running out the terminal to hug Emily. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.”

Emily clung to you, her face buried in your neck as she hugged you for the first time in months.

“I’ve missed you too, babe. So so much.”

You pulled away from the hug, looking into Emily’s eyes before connecting your lips.

“Fuck I’ve missed that. I’ve missed you.” You said, Emily nodding in agreement.

You frowned slightly at her.

You knew Emily like the back of your hand, and you knew exactly when something was wrong.

And you could tell something was wrong with her.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something but please promise you won’t be mad.” Emily begged

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the worst scenarios flowing through your head.

“Em, what’s wrong?”

“I lost the scrunchie. I’m so so sorry, baby. I wore it to the game last weekend and I left it in the hotel in Liverpool and I rang them last night and they said they threw it out. I’m so sorry.” Emily explained, tears welling in her eyes.

Emily expected you to start shouting at her, but instead you just enveloped her in a hug.

“Baby, why are you crying? It’s just a scrunchie.”

“It’s your favourite though.”

“I don’t care if it’s my favourite. All I care about right now is being with you, with or without a scrunchie.” You told her, rubbing her back as she calmed down. “And anyway, I’ve bought loads more for you.”

“I love you so much.” Emily said, hugging you tightly.

“I love you too, em. I love you more than any scrunchie.”