#but you’re able to get him to drop the act

[writerpeach]

Sticky Sweet

IVE Wonyoung x m!reader

21k words

Part 9 of IVED Vanilla Latte

“You’re coming with us.” That is precisely how they phrase it. No 'please,' no 'if you want to,' not an ounce of consideration. "I don't even like clubs—" "And?" Yujin interrupts, lifting a finger up to press against your lips to silence you. "This is non-negotiable." "What if I had other plans tonight?" "When have you ever had something planned that didn't involve either of us?" Wonyoung asks as she finishes applying mascara on her other eye. The two stare you down, arms crossed and unwilling to take no for an answer.

"Exactly," Yujin says as she disappears into the walk-in closet, returning a few moments later with two very different dresses. "Be ready in an hour."

That’s how you find yourself here.

You can hardly hear yourself think over the deafening music, blaring so loud you can feel it through the floorboards of the club these two finagled you into.

But you couldn't miss the chance for these two girls to show off, heels and tight dresses and heavy makeup, expensive jewelry dangling from their ears. Impossible for them not to be the center of attention the moment they step through the door, avoiding this massive line stretching down the sidewalk simply by flashing a smile to the bouncer, being let right through. 

You're pretty sure these two could get out of almost anything with the right facial expression. Just a raise of an eyebrow and a flutter of those luscious lashes, and their wish is everyone's command.

Once the three of you find a booth in the private VIP section, Yujin waves over a server, ordering two bottles of their most expensive champagne without even batting an eye at the price. "Can't believe daddy actually came along," Wonyoung shouts across the table. "Like, actually went to a club with us."

"Like he could ever resist us. All it takes to convince him is a slutty dress like this," Yujin says as she gives this little grin, that confident stare she's mastered over time. "And maybe the promise of fucking me in the bathroom if he's lucky. Right, daddy?"

The two of them giggle, already working on their first glass of champagne while scooting in close. It's a cozy enough booth, enough space that you're all able to slide in on one side, bare thighs brushing against yours and leaving no gaps between any of you. 

On your right, Yujin in this elegant white dress that matches the pearls hanging from her neck, the hem flirting past her hips. And to your left, Wonyoung in this tight, form-fitting black dress with sparkling gems that hug her curves, her long legs crossed so you can see every inch of them. 

"Daddy could never say no to getting his dick wet," Wonyoung says as she tilts her head back, gulping the last of her first glass and sets it down. Yujin laughs at that, almost spitting out her drink.

She’s not wrong. 

“It's too fucking loud in here," you complain, desperate to change the topic as you look around the VIP lounge. 

"Daddy's getting old,” you hear, and it’s Wonyoung, of course, who says that while pouring another glass. And you know she's mocking you, that look of faux innocence that earns a giggle from Yujin beside you. “Or maybe you're just used to listening to my screams and not anything else."

Yujin nearly drops her glass at Wonyoung's brazen remark and doubles over with laughter.

It’s only after the first bottle is almost depleted, that you switch to a couple rounds of shots, with Yujin pouring one down your throat as Wonyoung makes quick work of a margarita, before you even think about getting on the dance floor. 

That’s the excuse you’ll give for these two to grind up on you without hesitation in this packed sea of bodies, hands groping every bit of you they can, cupping your crotch while you return the favor and grab their tight asses, kissing both girls without giving the least amount of care for onlookers.

And you're definitely the luckiest person in here right now.

Almost better when you're not part of the main action, having your two favorite girls get all handsy while you watch. Seeing Wonyoung take the lead is always a delight, fingers running through those silky strands of Yujin's long, jet-black hair, holding her firmly in place as she dives in for a sloppy kiss, pushing her tongue in deep for more than a few moments. 

You’re not left staring for long. Wonyoung isn’t afraid to pull you back in with a tight yank of your collar as she slips her tongue into your mouth without hesitation, the alcohol on her breath lingering.

Yujin's next to follow, biting your ear and whispering all the dirty things she wants you to do tonight, getting her tongue in the mix with Wonyoung, eager to swap saliva back and forth with either of you. 

But Wonyoung isn't content to let her give all the attention, snaking behind you to suck on the exposed skin of your neck with those full, pouty lips that devour you. Her hands wander along your body, sneaking under your shirt, traveling wherever she pleases. 

Yujin is equally relentless, licking and nibbling at your skin until she turns around to grind her hips, pushing that delicious ass on the bulge trapped by your pants. As if you needed a reminder of how turned on you are, your dick hardening with each move they make.

"Daddy's getting a little worked up, isn't he?" Wonyoung murmurs into your ear, leaning forward while the two get a handful of your crotch, and she's not wrong. Two sets of nimble fingers squeeze and stroke along the outline in your pants, so needy, so wanting, and it's almost embarrassing how quickly you've gotten hard, with little chance of hiding it in public. 

"Need another fucking drink," you growl, knowing the last thing you need is them riling you up this much in a crowded space, not that you're going to stay on the dance floor much longer. Making a beeline toward the nearest bar, the two don't stop with all the attention, clinging to your side as you toss back a double shot, hoping the burn will distract you. 

It won’t.

"There's a bathroom upstairs," Wonyoung says so quickly she almost swallows every word, clearly as needy as you are when she yanks on your wrist. "Come on. Both of you. Now."

In a blink, she's dragging both you and Yujin away, which only makes the alcohol hit harder as the anticipation builds. She shoves you both inside, shutting the door behind as quickly as possible, the lock clicking in place to let the magic begin. 

But you’re happy to let them start without you, as Wonyoung wastes no time shoving Yujin against the sink for another drunken, heated kiss, purses thrown aside on the counter. The thud of Yujin's back hits the sink hard enough for her to groan, as the younger girl grabs her by the waist to draw her body tight, narrowing the distance while she shoves her tongue between those soft, willing lips.

Watching them devour each other is almost as intoxicating as the alcohol, and you're content to stand back and enjoy the show, listening to Yujin's throaty moans and needy sighs as the two lock lips, tongues exploring with impatience. 

The two go at it, Yujin with that tight, low cut dress riding up and showing off a sliver of her perfect ass, her black lace thong doing nothing to hide. Wonyoung right beside her, squeezes every bit of ass she can get her hands on, both of them moaning into their kiss and almost completely oblivious to you, the youngest still having the lead this time.

That’s until Wonyoung beckons to get involved with a finger, calling you closer. "Don't just stand there and watch like an idiot, daddy. If you're gonna stare, at least touch, too."

Not an easy invitation to refuse as you step closer to join this scene that’s all tongue, lips and saliva. Your fingers trail up along Wonyoung's bare skin, and you can't help but kiss the curve of her shoulder, working a hand along her hip until you find one of her smooth inner thighs underneath that short dress. 

Nothing in the world can distract Wonyoung at a time like this, grabbing your hand and shoving it right against the crotch of her panties with little thought, her body grinding on your fingers. The panties soak through in what feels like seconds as she groans into Yujin's lips from how you start to toy with her cunt, just grazing against it with each stroke, the wet fabric coating your fingertips with ease. 

"Poor daddy must be so hard," Yujin coos, getting close enough for her perfume to linger as her hands wrap around the back of your head. Like she doesn’t know that already when giving your hair a gentle tug,and crashes her lips into yours, tongue forcing its way in.

And while she claims your lips, Wonyoung helps ease the stress on your dick, creating friction from outside of your pants.

Now you’ve got Yujin’s taste in your mouth, and this needy girl on her knees as she takes care of unfastening everything holding your cock hostage in these tight pants. Her long fingers pull at your belt buckle, quickly shoving your pants down to the bathroom floor, until your clothed cock meets her hungry gaze. With a lick of her lips, she runs her hand along every inch, a grin appearing as she gives a firm squeeze through the fabric that causes a muffled groan. 

"Mm, must need this cock sucked so bad," Wonyoung says, digging fingertips into your boxers long enough to tear them off with a forceful tug. And the moment your cock is freed, she gives the attention you so badly crave, a tight grip around the base while her lips plant the first of many wet kisses.

“Good thing you're already on your knees then, slut," Yujin adds, chuckling before Wonyoung steals another taste, tongue flicking against your leaking slit as she pumps slow and steady. “Sucking off daddy is what our little brat is best at, isn’t it?” 

You couldn’t agree more. There’s hardly any music to distract you through the bathroom walls, bass reduced to a dull thump that makes it easier to drown in every little sound filling the room. Yujin bites on your bottom lip, bringing you into another wet, sloppy kiss, the taste of liquor so prominent on her tongue. And during that kiss, you groan into her mouth when Wonyoung wraps her full lips around your cock, slurping it down with little difficulty. 

“This is why we keep her around,” Yujin giggles while she wraps her arms around you, tracing her tongue up your neck. Wonyoung responds by sliding her lips farther down along the length of your dick, still stroking, leaving you unable to do much else but groan as you're engulfed in that hot, velvety mouth.

"Mmmph," and that’s all you can really hear as she swallows you down, warm mouth so sloppy, cheeks hollowed, head bobbing like there was never any other option but to take your entire length. 

Yujin’s right there, a distraction as much as encouragement, whispering whatever filthy things she can think of, whatever it takes to keep you rock hard while Wonyoung works her magic. It’s hypnotic, the way Wonyoung bobs her head, getting so deep with ease, the wet heat of her throat as she takes these deep, hungry strokes that echo as her lips move to the base of your cock, a combined effort all doing their best to unravel you. 

“Fuck, princess—“ 

And that’s all you can really do as she bobs her head so desperately between your legs, almost seeking approval. 

“Must feel so good, daddy. Our greedy little cocksucker loves it,” Yujin says, smirking as she dives back into another liplock, all lips and tongue and the occasional nibble of your neck. “Spit on that fucking cock, princess. Show us what a messy little whore you’ll always be.” 

It's almost a miracle Yujin even gets out the entire sentence with how much Wonyoung is moaning on your cock.

Whatever thoughts Wonyoung had prior vanish on the spot—unable to resist those kinds of commands. Not a lick of hesitation as she spits on your slick shaft, rubbing it in while you two watch, and she does it again and again, so damn eager to get her warm saliva dripping all over you.

You're more than thankful for the extra attention, because now Wonyoung takes the chance to pin your hips against the bathroom counter, getting nice and deep with the entirety of your dick shoved into her mouth. 

“God—that bratty fucking mouth feels so good,” you manage when Yujin lets you come up for air, lips licking up your neck once more. 

“Only thing she’s good for, right, daddy? A warm, wet hole for daddy to breed and that mouth getting us off. That’s what you’re best at, princess.” 

And it sounds so demeaning out of Yujin’s mouth, but Wonyoung couldn’t agree more, pressing her nose into your abdomen every time she bottoms out, a hand fondling your balls as she does so like she needs to prove a point. 

"Look at her go, daddy,” Yujin says right in your ear, taking a moment to enjoy the show. “Our little deepthroat queen, hungry as ever. On her knees, in a public bathroom. Right at home, isn’t she? Just needs to choke on it."

Wonyoung hums an affirmative moan, as if to agree, saliva hung down her chin while she pulls back slowly, a loud pop when you exit her mouth. And then she’s pumping so frantically, kissing your wet cock, tongue lashing up and down the length. 

"Nobody gives a blowjob like me, huh, daddy? Nice and sloppy, making a mess all over this big cock—“

Yujin only laughs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, princess.”

“But it’s true, daddy tells me that all the time,” Wonyoung says with so much pride in her voice, but Yujin’s too busy playing with your earlobe between her lips to even care. 

She’s not wrong of course, but you can’t admit it—at least not out loud. Wonyoung’s ego is inflated enough. 

But she does have the oral expertise covered, able to drain a load from your balls down her throat in seconds, if needed. And of course, Yujin is also deadly with that mouth, regardless of who’s the lucky recipient. Equal or surpassing Wonyoung on any given day, a master at everything else. Able to get either of you off in a matter of moments, usually first thing in the morning when there’s not much time before class. A quick bounce on your cock or sliding you between those deliciously thick thighs, and you’re gone—ready to start the day with a hot shower and a smile on your face. 

Wonyoung is back on your cock in an instant, so pretty on her knees, lips sealed tight, and moving faster than you can comprehend. She’s the definition of messy, eyes wide, slobbering on every inch, head bobbing, lost in her own world and loving every sound that you make. Not shy in her movements one bit, those lips move down to the base, just dying to please as the entirety of your cock stays shoved into her throat. 

Spit drips off her chin in this greedy attempt to swallow every bit of you, gorgeous doe eyes staring up as she hungrily chokes you down. There’s a pause every now and again to drag her tongue along the tip, flicking so rapidly while your cock throbs desperately in her grip. 

Your head falls back in pleasure, Yujin taking the opportunity to angle your face and shove her tongue in your mouth.

"Can't believe she used to be bad at this," she notes before your mouth is claimed in yet another sloppy kiss. "Now she sucks dick like a fucking porn star."

Wonyoung steals another glance as she pulls her lips away slowly, diving right back for several more strokes that confirm every word from Yujin’s lips. Her enthusiasm can't be matched, her fingers a little too eager, so much saliva dripping off her lips.

"I'm still better at taking it in the ass though," Yujin giggles as she nibbles along your neck and pecks along your cheek.

With each stroke and lick of Wonyoung's warm, slobbering mouth, you find yourself giving in to those obscene moans, unable to contain yourself, a relentless pace to push you closer to your limit. "That bratty fucking mouth really can't get enough, hm, princess?"

There’s no response, not that you need one when those full, luscious lips are heaven—wet and tight, so willing to please, choking down every inch so easily. And that tongue knows how to drive you wild, playing against the underside of your cock, flicking around to hit every last bit of sensitivity. 

No one can deny the results either, leaving a mess of saliva behind, your cock glistening—a blowjob a porn star would be jealous of is about as good as it gets. 

"Pretty thing is making such a mess," Yujin adds. "Got her sloppy fucking mouth drooling all over. Look at her, so hungry, choking on it, sucking down daddy's fat cock like she needs it to breathe."

“Brat makes me feel so good with this sloppy fucking mouth,” you groan, and can hardly speak the words out loud as they try to form, Wonyoung not giving the slightest sign of stopping as she delivers those unforgiving slurps. 

"Won't it feel even better if you fuck her pretty face, daddy?" Yujin's voice is dripping with this wickedness, the lust getting the better of her when she keeps her lips right at your ear, hot breath right up against. "Make her really choke on it, get that throat wrecked, see how far you can really cram it down there, yeah?"

Wonyoung pops you from her mouth with a wet gasp, ready to catch her breath for just a second as she goes back in without a word. 

“That what you want, princess? For me to use that bratty little mouth and make you a real fucking mess?” It's a rhetorical question, given how eagerly Wonyoung nods. The answer is already known, without a single word of refusal on her end.

Anything else is unacceptable. 

"Fucking whore likes that idea," Yujin adds while she hops onto the counter and spreads her legs. "Give her what she wants, daddy—shove your thick fucking cock down her throat. Ruin her, she’s begging for it. Aren’t you?” 

Wonyoung doesn't have a moment to reply. You give no warning whatsoever, too gone on shoving yourself back in that warm mouth, grabbing that silky black hair with both hands, fingers threaded tightly, holding her still as your hips take over. 

You thrust. 

Wonyoung chokes and sputters, spitting all over the base of your cock while Yujin laughs and kicks her feet in excitement, watching intently as the brat struggles.

"She can handle it, don't let up. Make her fucking gag. Wanna see that makeup all messy, fuck her throat like you do her cunt.”

That’s really all the instruction you need. Pumping your hips gets you so deep from the start, and Wonyoung doesn't have much choice but to accept every inch, that tight little throat being tested on how good it can take you. Turns out, like a fucking champ—not that anyone in the room expected anything less. 

So you don’t let up. Because why would you when Wonyoung can take whatever you give and more, inhaling every last inch stuffed down her throat, gagging so beautifully while her gaze never falters. 

And that look—her cheeks are flushed, eyes wide and teary, and she's swallowing your entire length, surrendering to your every desire, your hips driven by lust. 

Yujin couldn't be happier to see her this way, the girl who prides herself on being perfect, now looking so debauched, cheeks stained with tears, several strings of spit dripping off her chin, mascara running so beautifully. 

“Jesus, fuck,” you groan, and it’s you who needs a break from these forceful thrusts, not Wonyoung, letting the image burn into your mind—this perfect canvas being ruined. “Your throat feels so goddamn good, princess.” 

“Of course it does, idiot,” Wonyoung manages to say through all the tears, wanting you back down her throat before you can even blink again. But you’re quick to guide her back, grabbing her head and repeating this all, hips snapping forward, your cock shoving as deep as it’ll go into her mouth. 

She’s completely at your mercy and wouldn’t have it any other way. “Arms behind your back, princess. Let daddy do the work, let him fuck that throat the way I know you love," Yujin demands as your cock makes its way back between those swollen, soft lips, hitting the back of her throat over and over. 

Tear-struck, mascara-run face and all, Wonyoung reaches back obediently and hugs her arms behind her, looking up, waiting to do nothing but take this.

“Pretty fucking toy,” you say, you can vocalize while you're fucking her throat like her watery eyes desperately beg for, every thrust picking up a little bit more speed, as her face becomes a perfect combination of saliva, tears and ruined mascara that looks so gorgeous staining that porcelain complexion. 

"Looks so fucking good, seeing this brat used like this," Yujin chimes in, eyes never looking away from Wonyoung, on her knees, taking every rough, wet slap of your hips that slam against her hungry lips. 

Your words fade into grunts and groans, as your hips thrust on repeat into her face, not slowing down for anything—

And Wonyoung has no qualms about her position, able to take the brunt of these unapologetic slams right down her throat while you palm her head and she gags so shamelessly, balls smacking her chin with each slap, tears falling free. 

“Such a good girl,” Yujin says, with this little smirk, wide and proud, Wonyoung with her mouth stuffed so full to argue otherwise. "Your pretty little toy. Keep going, fuck that face, daddy. She must be so fucking wet from all this."

She’s not the only one, either. 

There’s a familiar, slick noise that almost breaks your focus, and you know exactly what it is—Yujin, who's not shy about sitting on that counter and shoving her hand beneath her dress. She groans, quite loudly, pushing aside the lace of her thong so her fingers can pump in and out of her greedy pussy, eyes not leaving the debauchery happening below her. 

And as bad as you want to take a peek at just how wet Yujin has gotten for the show, you keep your eyes on Wonyoung—forcing her head down the base of your shaft, nose shoved against your stomach, hair tussled with no plans to release the tight grip that's driving you insane. She can't do much but stare up when her lips stay perfectly sealed, up against your balls. 

Muffled gargles escape from her mouth stuffed so full as you continue this relentless motion and spit drooling out like a faucet while you keep her firmly locked into place. 

“God, princess—these lips, this tight fucking throat, feels too fucking good," you groan, throbbing deep in her mouth. 

Wonyoung struggles to catch her breath as you pull away, saliva staining that little black dress of hers, more strings still attached to her mouth and chin. "Hey—wasn't finished with that cock yet," she protests, reluctant to leave her pillowy lips from your length. 

“But daddy must be ready to burst, can tell from those fucking groans," Yujin says, her own breath a little labored from touching herself. "So you get that cum right in your stomach and we can worry about your next load of jizz later."

For Wonyoung, the disappointment fades in an instant at the prospect of getting her stomach pumped full. She licks her lips and wipes the drool from her face before kissing a trail down your shaft, lips lowering, until they latch right onto your sensitive sack, wet tongue running over every bit. 

"This should help empty these heavy fucking balls," Wonyoung murmurs between those loud suckling sounds, humming so contently. Her lips suck and slurp with hunger, lost in the taste, looking up innocently with her smudged makeup and hair a complete mess, hot breath lingering on every bit.

"F-fuck, that fucking mouth, keep going—" You almost lose the ability to speak when her hand grips you firmly, mouth so ravenous on your balls. All of the warm, wet slobber that's been collecting on your shaft makes this so easy, her hand gliding up and down the length while you groan louder.

The strokes only get faster, these sinful slurps much louder, so lewd, so filthy, while your fist takes over, balls ready to be emptied while the pressure builds with every passing second. 

“Daddy’s gonna blow his fucking load,” Yujin says with so much excitement, watching this all unfold. But all you can focus on is Wonyoung, the heat of her mouth, swallowing each of your balls in sequence while your cock aches with these furious strokes. 

"Don't fucking stop, I'm so damn close," you moan out, feeling it all building to a point of no return. So close—right there, her mouth playing on each side of your heavy balls, knowing exactly what will send you over the edge.

"Open that bratty mouth," Yujin commands from the side, rubbing her clit all the while. Wonyoung responds exactly as ordered, leaning back, her tongue hanging out and ready for you to dump your load into her greedy mouth. And that's exactly where you aim, cock right between those pouty lips, resting the head along her warm, waiting tongue as the last couple few strokes finish the job. 

You unload right in her open mouth, and she moans at the first shot that lands on her outstretched tongue, the next thick spurts reaching into the back of her throat. A series of groans follows, as you pump out all you have to give into her mouth, some hitting her lips, the rest pooling onto her tongue. 

It’s euphoric, the intense spurts that leave your cock, and Wonyoung keeps her tongue out obediently, every hot, creamy spurt landing where it belongs, waiting until you've fired the very last of it. 

"Swallow it all, princess," Yujin orders, as if she ever needs to encourage anything of the sort. But that's exactly what Wonyoung does, making this sweet little moan when her head tilts back, and you watch your cum go straight down her throat, tongue swiping across to clean any trace. "That’s our good fucking girl." 

Wonyoung glares daggers right at Yujin for those words, knowing exactly how she feels about them. "Sh-shut up, I'm not—"

"Good? Yeah, we know. Princess gets her face destroyed in a bathroom and daddy's fucking cum right down her throat. Little slut is anything but good."

And that's the praise that Wonyoung prefers, what she craves, tongue out to show you the emptiness, swallowed all down before she gets her lips right back on your cock to make sure she’s got the last of it, every bit. When you can’t take anymore of this insane suction, you push her head off your oversensitive shaft with a groan, trying to catch your breath, hoping there’s no going back for more. 

"You're a fucking mess," is all you say and both Wonyoung and Yujin chuckle, so amused at that obvious observation. 

"Because I was choking on your dumb fucking cock. Not my fault daddy likes to be so rough," she says so proudly, trying to pin her insatiable desires on you. Even through all the ruined mascara, smeared lipstick and smudged eyeliner, there's still this innocence that drips from her lips when they smile.

"Pretty sure that's exactly your fault, princess," Yujin says as she helps Wonyoung to her feet, grabbing a tissue to help clean up her face a bit. Not that there's much she can do to fix such a disheveled appearance in a short time. 

"Ugh, whatever, let's get out of here. This place was nice enough and all, but I wanna get railed somewhere we're less likely to get interrupted," Wonyoung says, as she takes a quick glimpse in the mirror, admiring the work you've done. "Maybe somewhere with a little less fucking noise."

"And you called me the old one," you reply, earning the standard eye roll and huff from Wonyoung. 

"Because you are old, dummy. This music is fucking horrendous, and my feet hurt," she complains, struggling to stand upright as she leans over the counter. 

"God, you really are such a brat. Next, you're gonna want me to carry you out of here." 

"Well—if you're offering, daddy."

"I'm not."

Yujin is all giggles again, leaning over to kiss your lips. It's a tender, soft kiss, a nice juxtaposition to everything that's gone on in this room. 

"I choke on your cock, swallow every drop, and I can't even get carried outside? What's the fucking point then?" Wonyoung whines, a pout forming that does its best to change your mind. 

"Could you be more spoiled?" Yujin asks, stealing your words as if Wonyoung is the only brat in the room.

"Whatever," Wonyoung growls, reaching for her purse and storming out of the bathroom with an exaggerated stomp of her feet. "Daddy better give me a foot massage when we get back then."

You take a moment to look at Yujin as she jumps down from the counter and does a quick glance in the mirror, fixing her hair. Pants zipped back up, you have a final look around to survey the damage done before following these two out the door. "Let's go, daddy. I think our princess might explode if she has to wait much longer."

With another sigh, you make your exit, no concern for anyone who sees the three of you coming out at the same time, heading back out the club as fast as possible.

"Fucking hate clubs," Wonyoung mutters the moment the cold breeze hits, adjusting the neckline on her dress as the taxi pulls up. 

"Get in then, you fucking brat, before you freeze to death."

All you can do is laugh with Yujin as the door shuts and your bodies squish into the backseat. 

✦ ✦

The three of you are more than a little tipsy by the time you finally get back, making it back to your penthouse apartment where the quiet is so very welcome. Once inside, the one very obvious thing you all notice when the three of you step in is how goddamn dark the entire place is. 

The blinds are closed, lights all off, not a hint of moonlight coming in. You glance around in confusion as all three of you come to the same realization—Wonyoung flicking a nearby light switch and having no luck. And again—nothing.

"Power's out." 

Yujin states the obvious, the more sober one at the moment. Wonyoung immediately sighs deeply, like it's the biggest inconvenience of her life as she rummages through her purse in search of her phone. 

"Yeah, no shit. I see that." 

Using her phone as a flashlight, Wonyoung walks further into the entrance and discards her high heels like trash at the doorway, as Yujin drops off her bag and tosses her coat off. 

"I'll check the break—"

"Don't you touch a damn thing," Wonyoung interrupts, grabbing at your shirt and practically yanking you off balance. "Not until you give me my foot massage. My feet are fucking killing me."

Somehow, you've been roped into this, and you barely have time to take off your coat before she's pulling you onto this huge sectional sofa where you take a seat. In the meantime, Yujin is over by the fireplace, getting it set up, lighting up the whole living space in no time. Now Wonyoung takes a seat on the sofa and throws her legs on your lap in a blink, like she's some kind of royalty expecting service, pointing at her bare feet in desperate need of attention.

"You know, you don't always have to wear heels all the time," you say as Yujin laughs from afar, setting up the last touches on the fireplace as she sits on the opposite side of Wonyoung. And that look you get in return—sends a bigger chill than the lack of heat in the apartment. 

"Daddy, why would I not wear them? These long, sexy legs without heels? A fucking waste,’” Wonyoung says, knowing she'll get what she wants regardless, wiggling her toes so you get the message loud and clear. 

She lifts the heel of one foot, raising it higher so there’s no ignoring it. You sigh as you get your hands on her, giving in and pressing your thumbs deep into her sole, massaging slow circles into the soft, sore skin. Just when you begin, her head drops back, letting out a satisfied, exhausted little moan like she's just run a marathon in those stilettos. 

"Comfortable, princess?" Yujin asks sarcastically from the other end, legs crossed as she watches in amusement.

"Very," she answers. "That's amazing, god. Daddy always takes care of his princess, doesn't he?" 

Utterly ridiculous. For better or worse, that answer is always yes, because you’re weak—and that’s putting it lightly, how she has a way of convincing you to do anything she asks. Whatever it is. The princess always gets what she wants.

"This isn't a spa, you know. You're not getting a full treatment," you warn, but it does little to discourage as Wonyoung just smiles, closing her eyes while your thumbs dig in, kneading every tired inch of her arches. 

"Shh, let me relax. Less talking, more rubbing my feet. That's all you need to be doing," Wonyoung says as you pick up the pressure, this spoiled brat looking so happy getting her feet pampered.

As ridiculous as it is, there's something comforting in taking care of Wonyoung. You love watching how her eyes flutter shut as she lets out this satisfied groan, savoring every touch. Her delicate feet are so soft, and so well kept, her nails painted with a fresh coat of polish, a deep red matching the color on her lips. Honestly, there are worse things you could be doing. 

"Don't act like you don't love spoiling me. So does Yujinnie. Both of you just love to take care of me like this."

"Speak for yourself, brat," Yujin fires back, but can't even do so without a smile on her face that tells otherwise. 

All you can do is give her a weak glare in response and go back to giving her that touch she craves. You spend extra attention on the bottom of her foot before switching sides, firmly massaging every part of her heel, her high arches, then digging your thumbs into the ball to work out all the tension. 

At this point, the room has more than warmed up, a roaring fire that feels so nice and cozy as the crackle fills the room. Your focus stays on Wonyoung—who looks oh so good in this light, stretched out on the sofa, legs in your lap and melting at your touch. 

"Princess shuts up so quickly when she's pampered and relaxed,” you say, trailing the pads of your thumb along the curve of each foot, taking in how soft, pale, and perfectly pedicured her feet are.

“Why do you think she acts like such a brat? Because we both give in and spoil her," Yujin muses, with this smirk that you can barely catch while you continue with this massage. "Especially you." 

You'd be a little hurt if it wasn't so goddamn true. Even right now, as the three of you sit on the huge sofa, Wonyoung has you under her complete control. She has the real upper hand in this relationship, despite what it might look like from the outside. Yujin might not cater to her the same way, but the truth is she's as bad as you are—but you'll never pry that out of her. 

But not even that can break the trance she's fallen under from this foot massage, these content sighs while her head remains against the pillow, almost drifting off. The noises alone are better to gauge her reaction, these cute little hums while you dig into a particularly sore spot, making your way to those long toes, tugging them gently, twisting back and forth.

"Does daddy like my painted toes? I did them just for you," Wonyoung murmurs out of the blue, just now glancing up, eyes narrowed and relaxed. You don't say a word and admire the color, how the dark polish contrasts with her milky skin. Those toes curl from the stimulation, a clear sign you're hitting all the right spots. "Answer me, daddy. Don’t you love them? Love kissing my feet and worshiping them?

"Brat," you mutter under your breath, knowing she'll never drop it. "Do you want me to stop rubbing your feet? Because it sounds like it."

She ignores your threat completely, pressing a foot directly in front of your face with her toes spreading, wiggling around to give you this taunting challenge. "You could never stop, I know. Too addicted to my pretty feet. Now kiss them. They need it, after all the walking around tonight. Kisses. Lots of them."

God, she's really pushing it. Yujin is stifling a laugh at your expense from all this and doesn't even do a single thing to assist, about ready to burst with laughter while Wonyoung's commanding instructions. But you can't deny any of it, in no position to go back on all the devotion you've shown. 

"Well, I'm gonna go check on the power," Yujin finally says, escaping while she can, taking her cue to leave the two of you alone.

And so here you remain alone with this stubborn little brat, getting her wish when you plant a few, chaste kisses on her freshly pedicured feet. And her expression changes immediately, a clear satisfaction written across her face. She makes it so hard to resist the temptation to pamper, guiding her other foot to your mouth to press your lips against that delicate arch, planting kisses on the sole of her foot.

"Much better," she comments, stretching her legs out and using you as her personal footstool. "My cute little masseur, kissing my pretty feet."

You know she's loving it, not even able to hide any moans for a second, content that she doesn't even have to dictate your actions anymore, just lying back and letting you worship her like a goddess. Her toes wiggle and spread apart as you kiss each one, taking a moment to give each equal attention,

"Keep going, daddy, they still feel so sore. Need more kisses to make them all better."

99% sure that isn't the case. In fact, she doesn't look in need of anything else but attention, with her hair falling perfectly, messy strands framing her doll-like face. Wonyoung gives you a smug little smile while her feet angle upward, perfectly positioned for you to plant wet, slow pecks right on her soles, and you're not about to admit she has you so wrapped around her finger, despite evidence to the contrary.

This would be ridiculous to anyone looking in, but the reality is you can hardly tell who is more spoiled here. And so here you sit with Wonyoung's long legs dangling, sitting lazily in your lap. Your lips on her soles, moving up her feet, languid and careful, kisses pressed on each inch.

"Perfect," Wonyoung exhales, those soft sighs gradually picking up as you pay close attention to her delicate arches, still massaging all the while with your hands. You can't exactly resist those gorgeous feet, and the kisses never cease, showing no indication of pulling away from your wandering mouth.

That is, until you hear the hum of electricity around you, the whole living space of this apartment coming back to life. Although there's no Yujin in sight when it happens, and no lights in the living room—which you're pretty sure are both related. 

No complaints here, as you don't mind keeping Wonyoung in the dark and lit up by just the fireplace, turning this into something much more romantic.

With a final few presses of your lips, Wonyoung wonders why you're slowing down on the attention to her feet, already shifting to reposition herself upright in a bit of a pout. You don't say anything, just guiding her foot back to your lips with your focus elsewhere, on a massive rug sitting in front of the fireplace that somehow, has never been put to good use.

"Up," you command, and Wonyoung follows your line of sight, curious but not protesting with the attention you've already lavished on her. She stands to her bare feet with a tiny wobble from the lingering alcohol.

"Dress, off."

"Not even a please?"

You sigh. "Dress off, pretty please," you try again, earning a rather calm tilt of her head. Wonyoung complies in seconds and works on the zipper, lowering the straps down her shoulders. And in no time flat the whole thing is draped at her feet, standing there in just her bra and panties, this pretty set that's pink and silky with cute little bows. "The rest too, now."

Every word that slips off your tongue you expect her to resist in some way, but she doesn't even flinch, unhooking her bra next. Her breasts fall free, the perfect size for her slender frame—just right, perky and delicious, nipples pink and utterly appetizing. 

Then her thumbs loop into the hem of her underwear, and that comes off, all at once. With a lift of her long, slender legs she's tossing them off, standing naked and practically glowing in the light of the fireplace.

"Is there a reason I'm naked and daddy isn't?" 

Your eyes soak her in, and the question hardly registers. Wonyoung, to her credit, has not one shy bone in her body. Her expensive little outfit that sits in a pile on the hardwood floor, nothing left covering that porcelain skin, standing so proud, so bare, so confident. 

Fuck, what a sight—luscious legs that go on for miles, tight stomach that's as toned as can be, curves to die for, a little more meat on her thighs and ass than usual, her wide hips perfectly accentuated. You never tire of staring. Not one single fucking inch goes unnoticed, especially where you draw attention to most, her clean-shaven, tight little pussy that makes your mouth water.

"I'll get to it. Just get on that rug first," you insist, sending her eyes on an inspection of this fancy rug that's been neglected. White and round and enormous, her toes sink in when she steps onto its surface, soft to the touch. It's so cozy on her bare feet, and the fire keeps her naked skin warm. 

"On my knees?" she asks with a glance back, a step further in the middle of this fluffy rug.

"No, not this time. On your back. Get nice and comfortable, princess." 

That's all you say as she lowers herself to the rug, getting on her back and laying against the plush material, sinking into this comfortable surface that feels amazing against her naked body. Her thighs spread wide almost on instinct, so invitingly open for you, arms resting on her elbows. 

You take the time to follow in suit, slowly undressing as you watch her get herself set. Her eyes narrow as she waits patiently, watching closely the more bare skin reveals with every bit of clothing tossed aside, a pile of clothes not unlike hers. Until you're fully naked yourself, staring once more at the outline of her naked body illuminated in the light that the fireplace gives. So goddamn beautiful. How could someone not spoil her when she's such a work of art?

Yujin was right—you do spoil her too much, but who gives a shit? Not you, not ever.

Your feet touch the edge of the soft, white fabric as your body lingers between her spread thighs. Now you're the one getting on your knees before settling on your stomach, right between her long, beautiful legs as you kiss along the soft flesh, gradually working higher, up the inside of her creamy thighs.

"So pretty, princess," you mutter under your breath, soft kisses at her smooth thighs that make her quiver a bit. "So, so pretty. Love your body, these long fucking legs... and this pretty little cunt. Love everything about you." 

You don't know whether it's the alcohol, or how good Wonyoung looks naked, covered in darkness with only the fireplace for illumination, but you just want to lavish her in praise as you mark up her thighs. Each one is met with a kiss, a slow press of your lips to that creamy skin, while you get so close to where you need to be. 

"Mm, daddy. All this is yours, you know," she says, breathing a little heavy. And you kiss up her beautiful skin as your mouth inches even nearer, hearing a faint gasp, knowing what's about to happen. You can't help but oblige, can't seem to control yourself when she's so slick and wet already. 

Wonyoung is beyond stunning, flat on her back on that rug that cost a small fortune, every inch of her skin exposed to your hungry gaze. The view itself is enough for you to savor, watching her chest rise and fall, her long legs parted like an invitation. That's all the teasing you can handle. 

So without a word, you lower yourself between her spread thighs, hearing the anticipation in her shaky breaths, her head leaning back when she senses how close you are, closing her eyes.

And she cries out so desperately once you make contact with your tongue flat, dragging slowly between the delicate, wet folds of her delicious little cunt. Addictive is the only way to describe this sweet, familiar taste as you shove your tongue deep inside her, so dripping and delicious, glistening from the arousal that you gather from each lick. 

"Oh god—"

Wonyoung can't hold a moan for even a moment. She tastes so fucking good, all this nectar dripping from the source as your mouth laps it all up, these noises that escape her mouth with each flick of your tongue, just begging to be devoured.

You don't even hesitate to give her everything she needs, latching your lips onto that sensitive clit and suckling with all your strength, mouth working hungrily as her fingers tangle into your hair.

"D-daddy—don't stop," Wonyoung moans, gasping, both her hands around the back of your skull, pressing you into that velvety flesh to keep your face buried. It isn't that hard to follow directions and stay where she wants, and you fucking love the way she pulls at your scalp, trying to grind into your mouth.

You feed that addiction, and with every frantic flick of your tongue into the slippery, hot depths of her pussy, you keep this feast going. These slurps and whimpers fight for supremacy, leaving her so overwhelmed. Fuck—her scent, that taste, and these desperate whimpers drive you insane, the perfect combination. The moans continue while you eat her out like you're starved, absolutely consumed with pleasuring her.

There’s nothing better than this. 

"Sh-shit, just like that, you're so f-fucking good, daddy," Wonyoung breathes out, melting on the rug as the grip in your hair only gets tighter, relentless. Her thighs hold you in place, firmly clamping onto the sides of your head to ensure you're not going anywhere anytime soon. Not that you would ever—not when this taste is on your tongue, so intoxicating, her juices an endless stream in your mouth.

"You taste so goddamn good—so wet, fuck," you murmur into her wet cunt, lips all coated as your tongue parts her soaked folds with rapid swipes, taking another series of harsh slurps, lapping it all up. "Can't get enough of you, princess."

This is where you make the most of spoiling Wonyoung, not that she hasn't been getting enough of that tonight. But eating her out like this—diving in, slurping away, there's just nothing like hearing the way she falls apart, squirming beneath your hungry mouth.

"Please, m-more," she whines, eyes screwed shut while your tongue shows no mercy on her drooling little cunt. You shoot a glance up every now and then from between her legs to drink in her reactions, nothing more beautiful than the bliss etched on her face, mouth hanging open, thighs squeezing so tight around your head. 

“Fuck, princess—” Barely able to breathe anything but her scent—it's exactly where you need to be, head between her legs, her taste lingering, devouring this pretty girl like nothing else matters.

"D-don't fucking stop," Wonyoung gasps, which isn't ever a plan when she tastes this good, her grip on your hair borderline painful as she tries to ride your face, struggling to form words. "Don't stop, god—please, daddy, please don't—"

That's the best encouragement you can get. Your lips get so greedy, so messy in the process, dragging from the sensitive bud of her clit all the way back down, sinking deep into her deliciously wet pussy with no restraint, lapping up and swallowing every drop.

"Oh g-god, daddy!"

She cries out so loudly you can feel it echoing through the large apartment, arching her back while she writhes against the surface of the rug, rocking her hips into your tongue. All it takes is a couple more ravenous licks until those thighs tense, refusing to let go, toes curling right at the moment of release. 

That's when Wonyoung moans the loudest, hands clutching at your head to hold you right there while she makes a mess all over your mouth, hips bucking, body trembling with a sudden surge as you work through every violent spasm. God, she looks gorgeous while you help her through this bliss, with lips sealed around her clit, suckling just the right way. She holds you in place, grinding on your tongue, riding it out while your tongue gathers it all up, all this arousal that won't go to waste.

"Shit, I'm—fuck, oh god," she continues to moan, breaths so erratic, and you don't stop lapping at this mess until she can't take any more stimulation. You look up, still slurping away on her clit, her entire body still twitching while her grip in your hair loosens, and only then do you ease up—giving as many more licks as possible, getting your fill until she forces your head away. 

"F-fuck, daddy's so good, made me cum so hard," she says after a breath, shaking through the last of this pleasure. And you're not done with her, cleaning up her soaked thighs, licks and kisses along every bit of flushed skin when your mouth finally stops devouring her dripping little cunt. "Felt so fucking good, love making a mess on your face like this..."

The feeling is more than mutual, and that's exactly what you've done, left her breathless, in a heap of exhaustion, her juices sliding down your chin, smeared everywhere. "Nothing better than having your tasty little cunt all over my lips." 

"D-daddy's too addicted, god," she gasps again, just as your tongue swipes back against her overstimulated clit, causing her entire body to jolt. "So s-sensitive, fuck, so—"

Another flick and she's a trembling mess again, and you have to fight the urge to bury your tongue right back in. You could do this for hours if given the chance. But the throbbing ache in your cock distracts—getting impatient while you rise, using every ounce of willpower to keep your mouth away.

"Looks like daddy needs to be taken care of too," Wonyoung says, observing how hard your cock has grown as you lift your body upright, knees right on this luxurious rug. "Come here, let's fix that—get your cock nice and wet."

That's the kind of offer you just can't pass up. Not when you have this girl's messy, delicious cunt eager for you to slide into. You get right into position, stroking your cock from base to tip while you stare right at her perfect little pussy, all parted and exposed, ready to be filled up. 

Neither of you can fight the shared desperation as you run your swollen cockhead along the wet flesh of her pussy, not pushing into her tightness quite yet, just taking it slow, tracing it along those slick lips. Wonyoung lets out a whimper that’s anything but subtle from this tease, and you don't know how much longer you can take, either. Because you know once you do push in—that familiar warmth around your cock, those tight, wet walls sucking you in, you'll never be able to leave without pumping a load deep. 

"Fucking fill me up, I want it," Wonyoung pleads, taking the decision off your hands. And god, that's all you need to hear as you shove yourself right inside that tight little cunt, parting her drenched folds to bury every inch at once, bottoming out with ease. "Oh g-god yes, make me cum again, fuck."

Wonyoung is every bit as tight, just as perfect and wet as the first time, and you can't even handle pulling back out, needing a moment just to savor this sensation before moving a single inch. "Feels so good, your tight little cunt—"

You cut yourself off with a groan, pulling out so agonizingly slow, but almost on instinct you give a deep, rough thrust, burying deep into this heat that's so incredibly addictive. One, and then a few more, both of you taking the time to enjoy the way your cock stretches her open, the wetness, how easy you glide through, the perfect warmth of her cunt begging for more.

"This feels too good, princess," you breathe out, almost not sure you can take the way she tightens around you, how all the wetness drenches your cock. And really, you're the one being spoiled now, pulling out and slamming back in with these full thrusts, savoring every inch of this girl you're addicted to—

It’s unfathomable how good her pussy feels, those moans, her slick walls clinging to your length. "Wet little cunt squeezing me like that. Can't just wait to milk the fucking life out of my cock, can you?"

A moan answers before she gets a chance to, and you really pick up the momentum, hips a little rougher, a little faster, your body unable to resist the temptation, letting lust overtake everything else. There's no holding back when you're buried so deep into her pussy, tossing a leg over your shoulder while you grip her thigh for leverage, getting that much deeper.

"Never can wait for daddy to finish inside my tight pussy," Wonyoung groans, such a perfect mess lying flat on her back, her breasts hypnotically bouncing every time your bodies collide. All this heat you're buried in, the wet sensations of her cunt taking you so eagerly, it makes it impossible to show any sort of restraint. "I love it when you're inside me, so big and stretching me out—more, daddy, need your cum. Don't stop." 

With a leg perched high on your shoulder, that's an easy request to fulfill, the tightness you plunge through demanding nothing else. Just fucking your cock into her, staring at her flawless face that contorts in pleasure, her pink pussy lips swallowing you whole. An addiction to your own demise and you know it. "God—so tight. Your perfect cunt always drives me fucking wild,"

"I know it does, daddy. You can't help yourself, can't help shoving this fat cock deep, filling me up with every inch of you, breeding me over and over. Fill me, fuck—"

Your eyes drift to hers, a stare that's so overwhelming, and she knows she has you right where she wants you—your hips might be the one pumping into this soaked warmth, but Wonyoung is clearly the one taking you apart with her little moans.

So fucking pretty, when she takes you like this, so easy to bury your shaft in her cunt, lost in all that velvety tightness. The moans pick up as you slam into her, driving yourself back in again and again as each thrust pulls more cries from her parted lips, little gasps and whimpers pouring out, chants for you to not stop. 

"Need daddy so deep in me, need that cock right up my guts," she says in such a demanding tone, eyes needy and wide, and there’s no possible denial when your cock is drowning in her juices. "You love pounding my pussy—being balls deep in me, isn't that what you need? What daddy needs to pump me full of that hot cum?" 

And there isn't anything you can say to deny that claim. 

The last bit of self control you possess is drained from hearing that—all it takes is a quick adjustment, lifting her other leg into a similar position, until they're both hoisted in the air, feet dangling, granting you unmatched depth. This angle works wonders on the both of you, giving you unfettered access to her cunt, spreading your legs to really slam deeper than before. 

Your thrusts start slow, taking a moment to gather yourself, knees firmly planted on this soft rug, Wonyoung’s perfect legs balancing in the air. Then you take these rapid snaps of your hips, groaning with every inch you piston in her dripping little hole, taking in the sight of her completely bare body. 

"Oh my god, that's—love you stuffing me so deep, faster, daddy!" Wonyoung gets out with more desperate, incoherent cries of approval that guide your hips as she gets all folded up and takes you, every thrust jolting her petite body. 

You don’t hesitate and do just that, sliding almost all the way out before slamming back in. The force pushes Wonyoung further into the rug, legs almost to her chest, with each slam of your cock causing this lewd, slick noise when you fuck your cock into these slippery depths. 

"Please don't stop," she practically sobs as the next series of deep thrusts go on and on, rough and urgent, nothing gentle about the way your cock plunges straight in. “S-so deep—fuck, feels too good. Don't ever stop fucking me, wreck my pussy, please, unload everything into my womb.” 

Your response is only to drill her harder, impossibly deep, that wet heat just pulling you in and not letting go. Her greedy pussy beckons you to bury yourself to the hilt with each slap of flesh, while your heavy balls bounce against her bare ass.

"My god, princess, your fucking cunt—“ It's damn near impossible to slow your pace now, not with how your cock impales Wonyoung’s tight pussy as she just takes every vicious stroke, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

All you can manage is another groan before trailing off, hips pistoning so frantically, and before you know it—she's already cumming on your cock, feet shaking in the air as the second orgasm rocks her body. And it's followed by another, the sensations too intense to bear, so overwhelmed by your relentless thrusts, toes curling while you keep drilling into her clenching little hole.

By this point, your bodies are covered in sweat, and not because of the warmth of the fireplace. 

Your hips spiral out of control, and you try so fucking hard not to let this end yet, but there's no holding out. Not when you look down and take in this view, seeing Wonyoung taking your cock like her pussy was made for you, tears rolling down her cheeks from how she can't stop gushing all over you, one orgasm melting into the next. 

Those long legs of hers are shaking so hard as you pound her cunt without restraint, the poor rug soaked from the mess she’s making—and you know it's going to be even worse once your release joins hers.

"D-daddy—" 

You can hardly make out her voice all broken as she tries to form words to no avail, sounding more and more fucked out by the second. 

"F-fuck, gonna cum," you bite out between deep, unstoppable groans, eyes glued to her beautiful face as you ram deep into such overwhelming wetness. God, it's never felt this good, this tight, making you lose it as you drive all the way back inside with an even harsher clench surrounding your cock, a promise not to let your cock go anywhere, no chance at escaping until your balls empty. 

"Fill me up, fucking make me a mess—want it deep in my cunt, don't stop until you’ve bred me." Her words trigger this primal urge in you to give in, the lewd squelches between the two of you increasing, no stopping the inevitable.

You can’t take anymore—one last set of thrusts, a final plunge, and you bury yourself as deep as you'll go. The tight grip of her greedy cunt is what makes you unload, a hefty load emptying out from your balls. Matching the intensity in her eyes, you pump massive, hot spurts inside Wonyoung that join her arousal in a thick mess that oozes around your length, nothing left in you but to fuck it deeper inside. 

Every shot empties right where she wants it, all your seed delivered in such a deluge as her clenching walls milk it all out of you, craving it, desperate for it. So much of it floods her to the brim that her cunt swallows up. Once you finally empty that last spurt and relax into your thrusts, you can't even begin to think about doing anything but staying buried deep inside. 

"Shit, all of that is—"

“Inside me. Mm, daddy pumped me so fucking full of his cum," she finishes, panting heavily, so worn out and yet the smile on her face tells you she's nowhere near satisfied. When you lower her legs down gently, they immediately wrap around your waist, holding you hostage inside that heat, keeping your creamy load safe in her cunt.

"And it's all yours," you say, but that's all you have the energy for as you collapse forward, burying your face into her neck. Wonyoung isn't going to let you go anytime soon—those legs are not letting go even after you're totally spent, cock still throbbing inside the grip of her cunt. 

That's more than fine with you, too exhausted, too breathless. There's no complaints here. Wonyoung kisses whatever sweaty skin she can find, soft and gentle pecks as she basks in your mess, dripping everywhere and getting this rug more than a little ruined. Something you won't be sorry about tomorrow.

The fireplace is burning still, but it's nothing compared to the heat still emanating between the two of you. Her hands cradle your head and rake through the mess of hair as you remain a tangle of limbs and fluids.

"Did that feel good, daddy? Feels so hot and sticky—my pussy full of you..." she mumbles into your ear, kissing up your cheek while you stay sheathed within her warmth, not daring to slip out.

You don't have the energy to say anything coherent, not that she ever needs an actual answer.

✦ ✦

And now you’ve both made your way back on the couch after resting up a bit and a much needed shower, lights on but dimmed, fireplace flickering in front of you. Yujin is here as well, back in her pajamas and a makeup-free face, indulging in the view of the clear, starlit night sky that looks so gorgeous through the apartment’s massive double-pane windows. Wonyoung is nestled in your lap, only in her bathrobe, holding a cup of fruit that she snacks on while a bottle of wine gets passed around. 

"So, daddy," Yujin starts, sitting so close that her hand rests on your thigh, fingers squeezing as she steals kisses and giggles. "Did we have fun tonight?"

You grab the bottle from Wonyoung and chug some before turning your attention to Yujin, needing a moment to stare at that pretty face before answering. "More fun once we got home."

"Better once we left that dumb club and daddy folded me in half and made me cum like, six fucking times." 

"Only six? Daddy should have tried a little harder," Yujin teases, taking a long sip from the bottle, looking so good when she does. 

"As if it takes much effort for her."

Wonyoung groans, grabbing the bottle back and finishing what's left. “Not my fault it takes nothing to have me creaming all over his fucking cock."

Yujin chokes out a laugh at how Wonyoung is turning this around and accusing you. “Who's the one begging for this dick nonstop? And who's the one who always makes us late for class because your legs can't stay shut for five minutes?"

"Whatever," Wonyoung pouts, only proving you're right. "Can't help if I wanna be dripping your cum down my thighs for these dumb lectures. It's the only way to not be bored out of my fucking mind."

As per usual, Yujin can't stop laughing at this whole exchange, content to just sit and watch. "Just admit you're both insatiable and leave it at that."

Wonyoung just glares like she's being falsely accused, kissing you before she can form her argument. She doesn't even have to when she can just crash her lips against yours, stealing every moment to slip her tongue in and taste the lingering sweetness of wine on your breath. "Says the slut who can't leave the bed in the morning without swallowing daddy's thick load."

There's no counter to that but a grin on Yujin, not the slightest bit ashamed for all the times you wake up to her skilled mouth between your legs before you're fully awake. "Caught me. Guess all three of us are hopeless."

"Two cumsluts and daddy who can't stop emptying his load in us every chance he gets. Guess we're just stuck with each other," Wonyoung says thoughtfully as she starts peppering soft kisses along your jaw, and Yujin runs her fingers through your hair, as if there's ever been any question. 

"Couldn't ask for anything better." 

✦ ✦

The morning hits like a truck. Even the littlest bit of sun peeking through the curtains is too fucking bright, with every movement you make forcing another groan out as you grab the sheets to avoid getting up. But when you roll over, you realize Wonyoung isn't here, nor is Yujin, the bed far too empty and cold for your liking. 

So there’s really no choice but to find strength somewhere and peel yourself out of the sheets.

Every step down the stairs gets heavier, no less drowsy as your feet finally land in the kitchen and spot Wonyoung who isn't faring any better, Yujin still nowhere to be seen. She barely grumbles out a little acknowledgment when you approach, slumped over the kitchen island, resting her head in her hands. The coffee pot is already halfway gone, away from its original spot, and thankfully, a bottle of aspirin sits alongside an empty mug.

You reach for the pills, popping a couple and chugging a glass of water while Wonyoung just stares at her steaming coffee cup, blank and mindless, struggling to function. Taking a seat next to her, you lean in for a quick kiss to her cheek, brushing dark hair out of her face. A glance over finds her looking worse for wear—wearing the same clothes she went to bed in, a little white tank top and black boyshorts with a pair of Yujin's fuzzy purple socks you gave her on her last birthday. 

"H-hey," you murmur, and pour a cup of coffee with what's still left. A grumpy nod is the only reply you’re getting as you stare into that cup like a trance. 

"Never drinking that fucking much again," Wonyoung groans under her breath. And you can't help but chuckle, because that's the most absurd thing you've heard since the two of you met. Yet, you're surprised to even see her in this state, given Wonyoung and hangovers typically don't co-exist.

"Heard that before," you say, barely having the energy to sit upright as you rub your temple.

"I mean it this time. Feels like a train ran over me," she sighs, still staring ahead without even taking a sip. "That club was a fucking stupid idea."

She sounds so out of it, that it's almost adorable. So very not Wonyoung. Hair all over the place, makeup all but gone, eyes puffy and dark. It's certainly strange seeing her like this, lacking her usual spark.

"Where's Yujin?"

Wonyoung looks up briefly to answer, but even that is a little laborious. "Getting us breakfast from that café around the corner and whatever else will get me out of feeling like death. Because apparently she's perfect and doesn't get hangovers anymore."

That makes sense, but also comes as a bit of a surprise. Wonyoung, so perfectly put together and reserved at times, with Yujin more on the outgoing, spontaneous side. Rare are the moments where roles are reversed like this. 

And while you share Wonyoung's pain, there's some solace in knowing Yujin is doing far better. 

"... you've just been sitting here until she gets back?"

There's as much annoyance mixed in as there is fatigue when she makes her best attempt to shoot a glare, not quite nailing the usual impact. "Daddy—it's either sit here with coffee or spend the next two hours fucking throwing up."

It’s almost comical how there’s a little brat left in her even in this state. All you do is nod in sympathy and caress her messy, tousled hair, stroking idly.

A few moments of comfortable silence pass, until the door interrupts. At once, her face changes. The mere sound of keys fiddling is enough to grab her attention, looking at the door, and that glare fades away.

Sure enough, Yujin emerges, dressed far better than either of you can pull off in jeans and a sweater that does wonders for that gorgeous frame, a hint of makeup and perfectly styled hair, looking so refreshed. For a moment, you're even a little envious, at how not one hint of a hangover shines through those eyes. 

"My poor babies. Looks like you could use this," Yujin teases with a grin on her face, putting down brown paper bags on the kitchen island, clearly enjoying every bit of this a little too much. She pulls out a container and sets down a massive stack of pancakes, followed by two bottles of orange juice, a bowl of fruit, scrambled eggs, and everything under the sun to pick and choose from. "Yujinnie is going to take good care of you two."

When she finishes unpacking everything, already you feel back to life just by how good everything smells.

"About fucking time," Wonyoung replies rather bluntly, grabbing both a bottle of juice and aspirin, unsure which to be more grateful for at the moment. You, however, have never been happier, stabbing a piece of the pancake and shoving it in your mouth as quickly as possible, a heavy dose of sugar and carbs the cure to fix everything.

"Daddy's favorite. Eat up," Yujin adds, kissing your forehead before she leans next to Wonyoung to do the same. Despite the grumpiness, there's a faint hint of a smile that appears on her lips. Just the faintest. It's hard for that sparkle to not appear when there's whipped cream, fresh strawberry slices, and syrup layered on each delectable morsel that she shoves in her mouth.

"Th-thanks, Yujinnie—" Wonyoung barely manages, a rare expression of gratitude given her current state, voice muffled by the ravenous bites that she consumes in such quick succession. 

Yujin sinks into the spot right next to you, and waits for your next bite so she can feed it to you, cutting a piece and then putting the fork back in your mouth. Again and again, while Wonyoung devours hers on the opposite end. You don't necessarily need her to baby you, but it's sweet nonetheless. And clearly, she enjoys feeding you like this, giggling before dipping more pancake into a puddle of syrup, a generous amount for the next bite.

Bite after bite, you feel less like you've been run over and more your old self. Yujin continues, almost on autopilot as she feeds you a continuous supply of pancakes and bacon that gets washed down with plenty of juice, a quick kiss or threading fingers through your hair in between. And Wonyoung, she’s recovering nicely as she uses her fork to shovel some banana slices into her mouth after dipping them into a healthy dollop of whipped cream. 

"Feeling a little better?" And before you can answer, Yujin steals a bite the next time the fork stops, sporting a grin as it disappears past her lips.

"Getting there, thanks. Fuck, really needed this," you mutter back, not quite coherent yet, but words getting easier to forn the more food you get into your system.

"You should rest up," Yujin says, keeping her attention on you, and you’ve never been more thankful to be on the receiving end of her loving care. “Want me to go start a nice, hot shower for the two of you?" 

On any other day, that offer might be too good to pass up, an extended, lazy shower together with Wonyoung. But today? You'll be lucky to manage anything other than collapsing face-first on the first comfortable surface you find. 

Wonyoung seems to share the unspoken desire to do absolutely nothing for the time being, and can only shake her head, refusing in total. "Too much effort," she grumbles, brushing hair out of her face and adjusting the tight white tank top clinging to her skin. 

Yujin just laughs. "You two are so cute when you're this helpless."

You don't even have the energy to respond. 

And when the pancakes are all gone, your head still pounds, but less like a jackhammer and more of a dull ache you can almost tolerate. There's only one thing on your mind as soon as you stand and head for the couch, Wonyoung following shortly after. Meanwhile, Yujin disappears for a moment, returning with a pile of throw blankets, extra pillows, bottles of water and more aspirin she sets on the coffee table.

"Okay, yell if you need anything else," she says, and with a final kiss to each of your cheeks, she’s already disappearing on her way upstairs. "Love you both."

Barely able to answer, you mumble out an incoherent sound and find your way to a comfy spot on the couch, sinking into the cushions. Wonyoung joins, easily collapsed under this warm blanket with her body pressed against you without a word and her head resting on your chest. All snuggled up, it doesn't take long for your eyelids to start closing.

Sometime later, you start to stir, eyes opening just slightly as you realize a few hours must have passed. By the sight of the floor lamp dimmed, the lights in the living room and kitchen off, all signs point toward nighttime, sunlight no longer flowing through the large glass windows in the living room.

There's a weight holding you down that makes it impossible to move, and you know there’s only one culprit—it's Wonyoung, still knocked out, in no hurry to get up either. And that wouldn't be a problem. If not for all that coffee and juice from earlier. 

"Princess—gotta get up for a bit," you mumble, nudging Wonyoung in hopes it'll do the trick. 

"N-no," she groans in protest, so utterly immobile. "Sleep. Don't move. Daddy's too comfy."

"I'll be right back. Need the bathroom, won't take long."

But that doesn't do a thing. Wonyoung refuses to budge, cuddling even tighter to trap you. "Stay. You're warm. Five more minutes." Not like you have an option, with this girl clinging to you, showing zero interest in letting you free.

But five more minutes could easily turn into more—so when those are up, there's not a choice. "Fucking brat, let me out. I'll be quick, promise." You force yourself away regardless of protests, a bigger struggle than necessary. 

"You better—can't sleep well without you."

Not even a minute passes before you return, and she's already stolen every inch of the blanket, all wrapped up, legs outstretched with her fuzzy socks peeking out. You crawl back under the blanket, returning to where Wonyoung demands your warmth the most, and she instantly clings to you again, one arm draped lazily over your chest. This time, for sure, she's not letting you escape anytime soon. 

"Missed you, daddy."

"Wasn't even gone that long."

"But it felt like forever," Wonyoung mumbles, using your body as a pillow. “Now daddy can't leave, ever." 

And she goes back to sleep like nothing ever happened, snuggled into your chest with a leg thrown over you. You pat her head, and now all that’s left is to sleep until you hardly even remember what having a hangover even is. 

✦ ✦

"Oh, hello, handsome.” 

That sultry, playful tone can only be one person, Yujin right by your side once you’ve awoken again. "Thought you were gonna sleep an entire week." 

There's a kiss planted on your cheek when she steps in view, and that's what sends your eyes fluttering awake—right along with her hand running a comforting path along your face. "Almost did."

Yujin smiles before you push yourself upright, eyes landing on Wonyoung's mountain of blankets, with no sign of her inside. She ruffles your hair as you try to regain your senses, already knowing what you’re about to ask. “She’s in the shower. Taking a long time though… even for her.” 

You don’t think much of it, given that Wonyoung taking long showers is about as common as the sun going down. But there’s this look on Yujin’s face like she knows something you don't. 

A mischievous smile is how that ends, with Yujin placing an arm behind you on the couch. "How was your nap? Feel better after a bit of rest?"

"Way fucking better," you sigh, finally relaxing fully upright in the couch. 

While you wait for Wonyoung's return, you grab a bottle of water sitting on the coffee table—tossing back a couple painkillers to help with any lingering discomfort. And almost on cue, you hear footsteps echoing down the stairs, growing louder. 

Standing at the top of the steps is Wonyoung in a black silk robe, the material thin but not enough to hide what's underneath, stockings hugging her slim legs as the tie of her robe sits loose.

 Her face is all dolled up, perfectly styled hair framing her flawless features, with a sheer red lipstick and dark eyeshadow to finish it off. She still looks stunning—a confident smile on her pretty face as her eyes land right on you. 

"Finally awake, I see. Took long enough," Wonyoung says with the slightest hint of annoyance, as if she wasn’t begging you not to leave before. 

Yujin is laughing right next to you as Wonyoung saunters over. "Don't act like you two hungover idiots didn't both sleep the entire day."

Wonyoung barely acknowledges Yujin, striding toward you in these black stiletto heels, like a graceful model taking every step to perfection. There's a mystery hidden under the robe, and you can't wait for it to be revealed. "Daddy kept me waiting, so I came up with a little something..."

You raise an eyebrow. "You could have woken me—"

"You think I didn't try, dummy? Thought you were dead for a while," Wonyoung says and grabs your wrist to yank you up. Before you get another word out, she's peeling you off the couch and guiding you upstairs towards whatever bedroom is her target.

A shut door and a deep kiss on your lips later, and you’re being backed up towards the bed. A playful shove comes next, then you’re scooting back on the mattress, eager to learn what's under that silk. And so begins the slow process, where she unties the belt of her robe, tantalizingly slow as she draws out each second.

The black satin falls right off her perfect body and crumples in a pile at her feet. You're left with quite the image to take in—Wonyoung looking like absolute sin in this set of black lingerie that covers so little, lace and garters and sheer stockings, the whole package, those stilettos emphasizing everything. 

The finishing touch, the image captured in the tall mirror on the door, Wonyoung’s tight little ass that fills out her lacy black underwear, your attention traveling up from head to toe, absolute perfection filling the reflection. 

"Surprise, daddy," Wonyoung says, hands resting on her hips while you marvel at her sexy little ensemble—a finger tilting your head up to her face for a kiss, right on your shocked lips.

There's no way you're not staring. 

“Fucking hell, princess.” 

Not that you even know where to stare, because there's lace everywhere—pushing up her tits, hugging her slender waist so tight, clinging to every delicious morsel of her petite figure. Those stockings alone are pure filth that you indulge yourself in, drinking in how they accentuate those endless legs, leaving you foaming at the mouth to kiss every inch of them. 

The thing about Wonyoung's brazen displays of confidence is that they're well earned. She knows what her body does, knows how good it all looks—especially when covered in lace and the sexiest fucking stockings you've seen. This tight body can make anyone drop to their knees.

"Daddy's fucking drooling," she says, amused and basking in this view of you helpless and stunned. And what can you really say—what can you really do but just stare shamelessly? 

"Because my princess looks fucking gorgeous. So goddamn beautiful, god, you're just—“ 

“I’m everything. I’m yours, and you’re mine.” 

That doesn't even feel like enough praise, but Wonyoung lights up regardless, clearly enjoying the attention as you caress one leg, fingers running over the soft, sheer fabric of her stockings. It’s hard to resist the temptation to rip them all off with your teeth. 

"I would look so good in this on my knees, sucking daddy's fat cock. Looking up while I choke on it—you can picture it, can't you?"

Without a doubt, the thought of Wonyoung's perfect, pouty lips sliding over your cock in this lingerie gets your dick throbbing hard. It's almost pathetic, how much it stirs at the smallest of things, and she barely needs to tease when you're already salivating at the idea.

"Daddy needs to bend me over the bed and rip this thong right off, doesn’t he? Shove his huge cock in me, fuck me raw, rough and hard till I cum all over it—"

And god, does she know exactly what to say. The filthy imagery fills your head as you lick your lips, a hand brushing up her thigh, slowly to that tiny strip of lace covering her gorgeous pussy. "Princess—"

"Or maybe daddy is still too tired to do all that," Wonyoung interjects before you can think, chuckling as her voice turns more wicked. "Maybe you need me to jump on that hard cock, ride it like a good little whore. Use it the way I want. Until I make you pump another load inside this perfect pussy. Doesn’t that sound nice?"

You can’t possibly be expected to form an answer when she looks like this, all wrapped up and not a thing left to the imagination. A gentle squeeze to her stocking-clad thigh is about the only thing you can do that constitutes a response. 

With the aching arousal surging between your legs as your imagination runs wild, she doesn't miss a moment to place your hands directly on her ass, letting you get a plentiful handful of the flesh in your palms.

"I want you to strip. Right now. Leave the boxers,” Wonyoung commands as she watches the lust grow stronger, not even having to look down to see you've got a massive erection that’s her job to relieve. Now it’s your turn to do as you're told, giving a brief nod while taking your shirt off, then the rest as quickly as you can while she watches every moment.

"On the bed, daddy. On your back." 

Naturally, that comes without argument or resistance. Not like there's much you can really offer, thrown for a complete loop the moment Wonyoung slipped off her robe. Just as soon as you've relaxed back against the pillows, Wonyoung climbs onto the bed, crawling towards your position, close enough so the tent in your boxers is mere inches away from her beautiful face, admiring as she nears. 

"Look at that perfect fucking cock. Looks so big in those boxers," she murmurs, palming it as she speaks, every single word getting to your throbbing shaft. "Should I put these pretty lips on your hard, aching dick? Make it nice and wet before I straddle it and show exactly what a good cocksleeve is?"

Your mouth opens, but you manage little more than a small groan in acknowledgment. It's more than difficult to think straight when she looks at you like that, with these sultry, seductive eyes that just aren't fair, stroking ever so lightly over the front of your underwear.

“Feel good, daddy? I know you want to fuck me. God, I want that so bad too—but I have a few extra things planned.” 

When you see that smirk on her face as she grips your cock, you know she hasn’t planned this alone. You don’t even know where her accomplice is right now, knowing how Yujin loves to watch as much as participate. The fact is, you'll let Wonyoung take all the credit, because you know she’s more than capable of this. 

She’s got you all riled up, on her own, with a slow squeeze around the head of your cock that’s unbearable. 

You want those beautiful, plump lips wrapped around your cock, more than anything. The image can’t leave your mind—Wonyoung between your thighs, making a mess. You’re distracted. Barely noticing as she leans over to the nightstand to slide open a drawer. 

And then she pulls out a set of pink padded leather cuffs, dangling from her fingers. "Here's the real surprise. Yujinnie was kind enough to let me use her toys... and I know daddy wants to get his greedy hands all over me. So that's why we're using these. Now, arms up.” 

You can't say this is what you were expecting, but you're not exactly protesting either.

Another attempt to form words fails, and you need a moment to hesitate—something Wonyoung doesn’t care for. She crawls over your body, kneeling over your chest as you make your eventual decision. 

“Daddy, I said arms up—“

Wonyoung repeats the demand with a surprising amount of calm and patience. And this time, you don’t think it over any more than necessary, wrists held up above your head. In a heartbeat, the soft leather straps clasp around both wrists, keeping them secured to the headboard. You'd be lying if you claimed this was totally foreign territory—but you're used to seeing Yujin with a smile on her lips putting the cuffs on you, not Wonyoung, who's become far bolder in the bedroom since.

So once you feel the leather securing your wrists to the back of the bed, Wonyoung runs her hands along them, testing them a few times just for good measure, unable to hide her satisfaction in watching you struggle. 

"There we go," she purrs. “Daddy looks so good in these…” 

She's already moving down between your legs, eager to get you naked as her fingers slide under the waistband of your underwear. a slight pause while she eyes the massive tent she's caused, thumb massaging idly. 

And with a forceful tug, your underwear is only a brief memory as Wonyoung tosses the garment aside. Her nails trace up your naked thighs, her cold hands lingering right below where you ache the most.

"What should I do first, hm? Suck your dick? Play with these heavy fucking balls? Or maybe just tease daddy’s big fucking cock through my panties—you think that'll drive you crazy?”

So many options, you're not sure how to even process anything beyond the blinding arousal as she stares with those devilish eyes at your throbbing, desperate cock leaking between her fingers.

"Maybe daddy doesn't get a choice. Maybe I just fuck you the way I want," she says, fingers squeezing your shaft, precum oozing out with no end in sight. "Keep you tied up and ride the fuck out of this huge fucking cock. Or if you're lucky—maybe I let you in my ass, since you like it so much."

That's the thing that makes you squirm with need—

Having her tight little ass sinking down on your cock, balls deep, clenching around you and milking you dry—that's a thought that refuses to budge. But while you're imagining all that, Wonyoung focuses on bringing these thoughts to life and slaps your cock hard, not afraid of the reaction as it throbs even stronger. "Daddy gets my pussy first. So I guess you’ll just have to earn my tight asshole."

You're only left staring with eyes wide open as she peels off her barely-there panties, sliding them down so agonizingly slow, revealing every delicious detail hidden underneath. And for your own benefit, her heels stay on as she spreads those long, long legs to give the full view, pussy pink and glistening wet, and oh so inviting.

"Princess—"

"No talking, daddy. That mouth is only for licking my pussy or sucking my tits. Nothing else, okay?"

There's no time to react as Wonyoung lifts the black thong to your mouth, forcing you to take in her scent while her soaked panties drag against your lips. "Can't wait to have this throbbing cock filling my tight little pussy. Doesn't that sound perfect?"

All you can offer are a couple muffled nods while she stuffs those lacy panties into your mouth. The thought alone is intoxicating, especially with how you can taste her arousal on them. She knows you're at her mercy, taking the time to slide up your body, grinding her bare cunt against you on the way down, stockings rubbing against your bare skin. 

But this isn't Wonyoung's usual play—you know she doesn't have the restraint for much else, which only works to your advantage. She’s not Yujin. She isn’t going to drag this out. The urgency in her movements tells you that she wants you buried deep inside her as much as you do, but that doesn't mean she can't savor some moments along the way.

"Daddy needs this, doesn't he? This beautiful cock buried in my pussy—squeezing you so fucking tight, like it was made just for me," Wonyoung tells you like she's teasing herself, a few rapid pumps while her hand leans it against her toned stomach, showing how deep you’ll reach inside.

You struggle for a response, not that you can say much with these soaked panties stuffed in your mouth. Wonyoung lets out this devious little smile as she grinds her slick pussy along your shaft, the warmth so abundant that it has you thrusting upwards on instinct. 

"Aw, daddy can't answer, can he? Want to fuck this tight fucking pussy? Want me to sink down, nice and deep, balls fucking deep—that's all you can think about, right?"

Again, a desperate nod is the best answer you can provide in your stupor, a cloud of desire slowly creeping over your ability to think straight. 

"Daddy doesn't even need to say—I already know you're so fucking desperate for this," she says, lifting up and rubbing that wet little cunt against the sensitive tip that throbs under the littlest touch. 

Desperate doesn't even begin to cover it, pent up from the littlest stimulation Wonyoung grants. And you couldn't even beg with these panties in your mouth even if you wanted to.

"Mmm, looks so big in my little hands—and all of it is going to stretch my pretty little pussy. Because that's what daddy's needy cock is best for, right?" This time, you can't even get out a nod, eyes glued to how she rubs you between her sopping folds, this final tease when she drags you through all that arousal. 

Then, a few lazy strokes. No friction, no satisfying stimulation to alleviate this overwhelming craving. It's infuriating.

"Wonder how deep it will reach. How deep your fat fucking cock will reach inside—splitting me wide open. Until daddy can't resist and spills his cum into this warm hole."

God, it’s exactly what you’re desperate for, those tight lips parting to fit your aching cock. Wonyoung raises her hips and guides your swollen cockhead, not patient enough to let the teasing linger. Her weight drops, and then you’re inside her—every inch she can take, so deep as you both crave.

You don't even fight back a muffled groan while her hips take over, rolling to savor the stretch, the deliciousness of being filled, a perfect straddle with a leg on either side to take you to the hilt. 

"Oh—so fucking full. I can't, f-fuck, daddy feels so fucking amazing, god—this huge fucking cock stuffed inside me where it belongs."

One slow lift of her hips follows another, the sinful wet sounds filling the room with how deliciously slick her pussy is. She envelops your length with ease, the tight grip her cunt holds making your whole body shudder, making your wrists jerk against the restraints, utterly helpless.

That puts a smile on her face. There's no end to this warmth or the slippery glide that swallows you up with no need for adjustment, alternating between harsh drops of her hips and the rolling that sinks every inch of your cock, squeezing you like she knows you need.

“God—how deep is your cock reaching, daddy?" Wonyoung asks through uneven, staggered breaths, head hanging over your own, braced and riding you at this angle where you reach the best place possible. 

Her head snaps back in pleasure, red lips parting as each calculated movement hits just right. And you can't look anywhere else as her entire body slams down on repeat, nothing that could bring herself to stop. 

"Love when this fucking cock fills my wet little pussy—“ A simple groan escapes when she slides up halfway, pausing for impact before dropping down hard again. "When this cock splits me open and makes me cum my fucking brains out. When your heavy fucking balls spill everything in me—god, I love being a slut for daddy to breed, a perfect little cum dump for those huge fucking loads."

"Princess—" you try to say through the fabric, though it comes out every bit muffled, the sound inaudible through these endless bounces.

"What is it, daddy? You wanna breed me already? Is this tight fucking pussy too much to handle?” she asks and gyrates her hips, clenching tight on the way down. Her palms rest on your bare chest, nails digging in while she impales herself on your length with these harsh bounces. 

Another tug on instinct that jerks the headboard back, as if you have any hopes of pulling free, left to watch as she does whatever she wants. With your mouth crammed with lace, there's no fighting these sounds, no chance of anything you say becoming audible. All the same, Wonyoung understands every little muffled noise, finding the perfect angle, every fucking drop that keeps your cock drowning in this slippery warmth.

"Almost there, daddy. You're doing so well—such a good fucking stretch, making my pussy so wet," she breathes out with her head tossed back, ass bouncing on your lap. Whenever your length goes impossibly deep, Wonyoung groans with each rise, these delicious noises that you can’t get enough of. "R-right there, that's the spot."

She bounces that petite frame with reckless abandon, hair a total mess falling around her, hips moving as fast as they can. The bed frame rattles, creaking from how hard those thighs slam down, letting out an audible slap of flesh on every impact, juices glistening from your cock as you stay stuffed in her tight cunt.

Again, you try in vain to utter the words. It's a hard enough task through this balled-up fabric in your mouth, and yet she senses the effort. But that doesn't mean she acknowledges it, far too lost in the sensations as those strokes come with intent—hands pressing down, palms splayed on your chest to guide each slam into her cunt.

"You're gonna make me cum, fuck—so deep in me, daddy. Oh my god, feels so fucking good,” Wonyoung cries out, slick gliding her effortlessly down every inch, using her cunt in the most selfish way possible as the edge looms. 

And that's enough to have you straining harder against the leather cuffs. She's close, the look of desperate, endless bliss etched onto her features when she gets her hips on autopilot, losing all sense of control. 

"Oh fuck, g-gonna fucking cum!” Then she’s right there, the fabric of her stockings rubbing against you when your bodies collide with such frantic desperation. Wonyoung bounces and bounces, refusing to let up, fucking you so goddamn good to chase own release.

Her orgasm hits, and it hits hard—fucking herself through a blinding rush of bliss. It's wet, messy, and god, her pussy just keeps spasming around you, that high going and going while her body shakes, thighs quivering so violently. 

She doesn't ease up on you either, riding like she’ll never get enough, eyelids heavy and head tossed back as she tries to keep going—too delirious to get another word out. Her warm little hole clamps like a vice on your entire length, overwhelming you with all these intoxicating sensations. Such a vibrant image, the sight of Wonyoung struggling to not fall apart while she rides your cock, mind filled with nothing but endless ecstasy.

"F-fuck," is all that comes out from Wonyoung when she brings her hips to a sudden halt and falls forward, removing her panties from your mouth and pulling you into a deep kiss. It's every bit intense and heated, your lips so easily captured, her tongue shoved in your mouth like it belongs there. "S-so good, so, fucking good—daddy made me cum so fucking hard."

Wonyoung is breathless, sweat beading all over, the glow on her skin and satisfaction in her features when her gaze meets yours once again.

"Now daddy must be dying to cum," she finally says through all these pants and gasps while her forehead rests against yours, that impossible to break eye-contact trapping you as your hard cock throbs so deep inside the snug, velvety grip of her cunt.

"You have no idea, wanna fill you, cum deep inside—" 

"Poor daddy. Your balls must be getting so heavy," Wonyoung laughs, giving an overwhelming roll of her hips, as if you weren't aching enough. She cups your face and leans in close, looking at the pink leather wrapped around your wrists. "Daddy must need those off—do you deserve to get your hands all over me when your cock fills my ass?"

"Yes, fuck yes—wanna be buried in your ass, wanna feel how tight you are,” you reply almost instantly, because like hell would you choose otherwise. Wonyoung simply smiles at the desperation on display, taking her time as she carefully undoes the handcuffs and sets you free, one at a time, tossing them aside. 

“Is that where daddy wants to cum? Deep inside my tight little asshole? Sounds so good—fill my ass with all your sticky fucking seed, wanna feel it flood right out of me. Don’t keep me waiting then.” 

As much as you love this tight cunt, the urge for something more has been clawing away. And now that you've been given free rein to do what you please, there's only one place your cock needs.

So just like that, Wonyoung climbs off, all that wetness dripping everywhere when your swollen cock springs free from her heavenly cunt.

She crawls over to the far end of the mattress, knowing what has to come next as she unhooks her bra, tossing that off and out of the way, leaving nothing on her but delicious heels and stockings. You see every curve from behind, watching closely while she gets on all fours, ass looking like absolute perfection, leaving you to salivate once Wonyoung gathers some pillows to hover over.

"Pound me—fucking pound my ass hard. Daddy doesn't need to go easy. I want that dick in my ass, wanna feel all of you stuff me fucking full," she breathes out. 

And even while she says that, you need a moment to stroke your cock and stare, marveling at those creamy cheeks that are about to be your new home. But like the brat said—don't keep her waiting. 

Shuffling over to the bedside table, you barely need to search, finding the small bottle practically empty. Enough left to slide your cock in, and that’s all that matters. And then you’re in position right behind Wonyoung, her sinful little body all there for you to take—

The cap opens, and your hand grips her supple ass, squeezing for a good moment before slicking your length with the cool liquid. Wonyoung, of course, shows impatience when you slide a slippery finger past that tight ring of muscle—a second one quick to join after, both working into her knuckle deep and sinking them in further. 

It's a routine you could do blindfolded. In your sleep, so well rehearsed at this point. The rim of her puckered hole accepts you with such ease, a slight moan slipping when you're halfway, quick to escalate the impatience you both share.

"Hurry up, get your big fucking dick in me, god—"

That's the plan. 

But that's difficult when your fingers have a mind of their own, pumping in and out to enjoy the tightness, how good her ass looks taking them deep. After all, it’s only fair to return the favor and tease her. Not like your cock isn’t aching to get inside either—so a momentary detour is plenty justifiable. Especially with these pathetic whimpers while you finger her asshole.

Her ass just feels too good to let up, a thumb running along her tight little rim, playing and toying until you reach the breaking point.

And then you take your cock, slapping it against those cheeks to get any kind of relief you can get—a few more teasing smacks before you line up. She's ready for it, pleading to be filled when you press your swollen cockhead right along her slicked-up back entrance, ready to sink into heaven and lose yourself. 

But there’s just one more thing missing—

Looking back, you spot the discarded handcuffs, abandoned on the edge of the bed and practically calling out to you. You don’t think twice about making use of them, picking them up in haste. 

And Wonyoung doesn't even see this coming. Her eyes widen with anticipation as you seize her wrists one by one, pulling them behind her back and securing them in place, the click from the final clasp far too satisfying. 

"Fucking brat thinks she's the only one allowed to surprise people," you say, giving her plump ass a sudden spank as a startled gasp fills the room. She tries to look back from over her shoulder, struggling with the way her arms are bound.

"Daddy, p-please, need your cock—“ 

"Shut up, little fucking slut." Another sharp hit on each side of her ass makes the flesh redden with bright handprints, each more aggressive than the previous. These perfectly round cheeks on total display the best canvas as your palm does as it pleases. 

There’s no protesting on her end despite this ambush, and she knows exactly what she’s started, riling you up like this, driving you to such actions—desperate to be put in her place. 

You can't say you've seen a better sight. Wonyoung's back arched with those slender arms held together behind, no choice but to keep that round ass in the air, ripe for the taking. That's the part you focus on most of all, these pale cheeks reddening with your strikes, squeezing them apart, her hungry little hole awaiting your thick cock. "Now the princess gets to be all helpless, doesn't she?" 

Not that she doesn't enjoy the restraint, she revels in it. Hell, she's the reason these handcuffs are even here in the first place. Because they look so good on her when she's begging to be fucked.

"Fucking brat actually likes being handcuffed and punished, huh? Being all helpless and vulnerable when she's taking this cock." She has no counter to that, no means to reply—and her entire demeanor shifts, voice coming through with this timid, flustered tone.

"Daddy, p-please, shove your cock inside, fuck me, pound my asshole—"

“I said shut up, slut. Do I have to gag you with your own fucking panties, princess? Or maybe something else, I'm sure Yujin has something useful around." 

Another harsh slap, hitting the exact same place. The red hue only grows darker while you give another, even harder, followed by a half-dozen more, each one stinging more than the last. 

"N-no, need daddy to hear me when that cock stretches my ass, p-please…"

She melts into submission without any real effort, losing any hope of resistance with the dozen or so smacks on that tight little ass that make her body jolt with each one. “Gonna open you up so wide, ruin daddy’s pretty little fuckdoll, make sure you can’t sit straight for a fucking week.” 

And that’s your cue to end this teasing. 

When the whimpering gets desperate, and the torture has lasted for too long. Pressing the swollen tip to her puckered entrance, Wonyoung groans when you inch in slowly, until her ass swallows you up. 

"God, princess," is all that you choke out as she slowly takes every inch without issue, letting out a sigh with you buried to the hilt. Every breath is ragged, shallow, and unsteady when you start thrusting, everything so warm and tight around your throbbing length. 

But the tightness, god—there's no greater sensation than this hot little asshole welcoming you, all of you. Each stroke becomes an impulse, sliding slowly and deep as you pull out halfway, just to enjoy the way she sucks you back in. 

"Mm, fuck, daddy—s-so good, so full," is all Wonyoung can manage, face into the pillows with her hands behind her back, turned enough so you can still make out her features—and all the pleasure etched there as you pump. "God, more, need you pounding me hard. Didn't I tell you to not take it fucking easy?" 

That's what earns her another hard slap on her ass, one with plenty of force behind it at that sudden defiance that loves to creep up. A reminder that even when her wrists are bound together, she takes what she wants. And once you slide out and right back in, a smack comes down so hard she clenches tight around your shaft, anticipating the pain that follows while you stay buried to the hilt, balls pressed up against her ass. 

Because even as you reward her with more punishing smacks to those creamy, pale cheeks already tarnished with fresh handprints—you know the one thing she hates most is denial.

So that's what you'll do, stay lodged all the way up inside, not moving a single inch. And from the look on her face, Wonyoung catches on, expression fading into something disappointed when she tries to push her hips back. 

"Don’t even think about it, princess," you warn, holding her hips firmly in place. "Not moving an inch until you learn to behave."

"Daddy wouldn't. Know you need to fill up my tight little asshole until I’m gaping and leaking with cum."

Her entire demeanor changes on a dime with those words, looking back like she's the one in control, despite her situation. 

"Wouldn't I? Don't test me. I can easily walk out that door and leave you like this for as long as I fucking want. Find Yujin instead and fill her cunt with the load that's meant for your ass."

"You wouldn't dare—"

"Wanna try me and find out? I'll go track her down, throw her legs over my shoulders and pound that beautiful pussy while all you can do is listen. It'll be her hair I'm pulling, not yours. Her pretty toes in my mouth. Her gorgeous face I'll be painting with my cum—not your slutty fucking holes.” 

"D-daddy, p-please!" she says, voice trembling at the threat. "Need you to stay in my ass, use me like a good little whore—"

"Oh, so now you're good? Only when it's convenient to you, is that it, brat?"

"N-no, just don't leave—don't go fuck Yujin instead. Need you to stay in me and finish."

Like you could ever do anything but that. That ass is absolutely fucking irresistible, the strength required to deny its grasp—it's impossible. 

Besides, you've had your fill of games. Not one more second to waste, your cock needs that tight fucking ass. So once again, you pull those hips back with you and slam into her ass with even more force, shoving every last inch to bury deep. And then you do it again and again, the resounding slap filling the room, hearing her helpless little moans after every thrust. 

"There you go—daddy's in my ass so fucking deep. Knew you couldn't go without your favorite cum dump," she murmurs through another strained moan, and that only makes your thrusts come harder, these unforgiving slams that are anything but gentle. 

If this is how she wants it, then it's a gift you can deliver. Because you're not going to have it any other way either, wanting to make good on your promise to make sure she can’t walk straight and then some. 

"Gonna fucking open you up so much, god, can't take how good this asshole feels, princess—"

Each thrust that buries deep feels so impossibly tight, suffocating your cock when you get balls deep, only staying for enough time to bottom out so you can pound back in once you slide out. 

It drives you fucking mad how tight and warm this hole you’re plunging yourself into, pulling her entire petite frame back whenever you withdraw. Another animalistic groan follows your hard pumps, burying yourself and stretching out her asshole as she's reduced to a moaning mess below you, head buried in a pillow and taking everything you give.

"F-fuck, love daddy's huge fucking cock," Wonyoung groans, taking the rough strokes you dish out with pride. “Love when you get so rough, when you lose control fucking my ass. I can't even do anything but take it like a good little slut." 

She gets it, god, she does. She knows exactly what all these moments do to you, get your body moving like you’re possessed. The way her reddened cheeks bounce when they meet your hips, and the mere sight of these fucking stockings on her never-ending legs makes it even better. 

You’re drunk on the bliss her body brings, and the feeling is mutual. Wonyoung is so eager to take everything you can give, gasping and pleading for even more, as if her ass isn’t the best thing you’ve buried your cock in. And you need more as much as she does, lifting yourself into a squat and leaning forward over her ass, pounding away with reckless abandon in this new angle that gets you even deeper. 

"F-fuck! Love this little asshole getting slammed, daddy’s fucking me so hard—mm, fuck, just like that. Fucking use me, use your greedy little slut, please—“ 

As if you’re even capable of anything else but pounding away at her ass while she drips all over the sheets. All you can even think about is getting deep between those cheeks while your heavy balls smack against her wet cunt, and you’re not sure you’re ever going to be able to leave even after you’ve left a hot, creamy load inside her. 

“Gonna cum so fucking hard in your ass when I’m done with you, slut. Fill it with my load and fuck it deep,” you growl, accentuating your words with a harsh slap to her cheeks, not letting her forget about the painful pleasure she’s addicted to. 

"Don't s-stop," she pleads, crying out when a palm collides again on her ass, craving that harsh sting more than anything. But that’s all she gets for now, putting your all into your hammering thrusts that slam her into the mattress. 

Wonyoung is taking it all like a champ, unable to even touch herself with these bound wrists, forced to endure whatever you give. All she gets to do is take what she deserves and more with every hard, unforgiving stroke that fills her. You need this—god, she fucking needs this just the same, each slam into her greedy little asshole getting more ferocious than the last, bordering on uncontrollable when her ass devours everything.

Not that she'd have you any other way.

"Just like that, nngh—oh god, fuck my ass, fill me up,” she begs, downright delirious from having this cock shoved up her ass, as you fuck into her little hole without any concern, pistoning deep in her tight depths. “Need you to ruin this ass—fill my gaping fucking asshole with cum, please—daddy, use me however you fucking want."

Those words really do you in. Almost as much as the tightness of her ass does. You’re completely lost in these mirrored desires, in the thrusts that spiral beyond control, so rough in her warm little hole that demands more, refuses to relent from such an unforgiving grip. 

You can’t even think about holding back anything now as you grab her handcuffed wrists and use them for leverage. And somehow, that gets you even more merciless—watching how those manicured nails form a fist, desperate to clench onto  anything as you drill her from behind, your eyes glued to where your shaft disappears. 

“You’re mine, princess, you hear that? All fucking mine, every little inch of your tight body.” 

"All yours," she manages out through the mind-numbing thrusts. "Always was, daddy. Just don't stop fucking me like this—"

Wonyoung can't help the desperate sounds that escape. She’s whining and whimpering, drool spilling onto the sheets when you get so deep, when her petite frame nearly gives out, almost unable to keep pace with her own demands. She really does struggle against her own self-control, and you're pretty sure if these handcuffs weren't on, there's not a doubt about the sheets she'd ruin with a hand between her thighs. 

You're fucking her into absolute incoherence, moaning between each harsh thrust and knowing there's no goddamn way to last. As you keep a wrist in your grasp, you reach down to give another hard spank across that pristine, pale flesh, not letting those bright red handprints ever fade. Because she deserves it, she's fucking earned every last one. Every single yelp that follows, the sting all over her sensitive skin that makes her clench tighter—the raw, crimson blush on those cheeks intent on making sure she’ll feel it for days. 

She lives for these spanks, the way your palm marks her, this soreness that feeds her arousal. The only way it could get better would be if Yujin were here—with a paddle in her hands, delivering as many as she can count.

It's that sensation of your hand connecting on each tender cheek, your cock impaling her ass while she remains so helpless, the stuttered little sounds when she takes it. All these things lead right up to the point you can't hold back a moment longer. With your hands back on her hips, the spanks cease in favor of giving your all, to ram in as deep and as hard as this little body can take.

"D-daddy's gonna cum so hard In this tight little hole, isn't he?" Wonyoung asks, more of a plea than a question, every word a little more slurred and broken. 

"Gonna pump you full, brat, fuck—" You feel it building, a steady pressure that has no chance of being contained. One more slap on that sore ass echoes through the room when your fingers dig into her sweaty flesh, and then you're holding her still, slamming your throbbing cock into her ass until the very last moment. 

Then you unload everything inside her. 

You let out a breathy groan as you pump it all deep inside her warm little asshole—one after another, each leaving you satisfied and breathless. Cum spills out in sticky, hot violent spurts as Wonyoung just moans with each shot her ass wrings out, working to empty your heavy balls inside this incredible tightness. 

She claims it all, her tight ass draining everything so desperately, every second a constant squeeze to milk you completely dry. 

It's filthy and sticky and, god, it's everything you need. What you both do. It never seems to stop, each heavy spurt bringing a new violent jerk of your hips that pounds it deep as those reddened cheeks swallow up the final remnants of your release. 

"Mmh, fuck—so full of daddy's cum, deep in my fucking ass. Daddy really destroyed my tight asshole and pumped me full, just how I needed.”  

Wonyoung still slurs her speech while not even thinking about letting you go. Not just yet. You'll stay here, buried in her ass knowing not to even try pulling away. Because those tender cheeks look so amazing stuffed full—nothing compared to what you’ll see the moments after you pull out.

"Good girl." 

That's all you mutter before leaning forward to press your weight down further on Wonyoung, increasing the angle enough so her body is flattened into the soft pillows below. There isn't an inch to move in this new position, your cock so snug all the way inside, still impaling her petite body to keep that creamy white load where it belongs. 

"N-no, not good—can't say that now," she murmurs, every word breathless with this fucked out expression etched on her face, biting her bottom lip and pressing her ass back the slightest. "Daddy's little fucking cumslut, you mean. Don't know the first thing about being good."

And what can you do but laugh while you pepper her flushed skin in kisses, some traveling down her shoulder, ending at the crook of her neck. 

For now, you stay in that position, catching your breath as she finally lets go, her hot little asshole gripping so harshly like it never wants you to leave when you slide out. There's a beautiful trail of sticky white of left behind, leaking right between her cheeks that you spread apart once you finally withdraw your length.

There's no greater sight, the creamy white dripping from that stretched out little hole, seeping between her pale thighs and onto the sheets, while your cock rests against her ass.

"Fuck, you really did wreck my asshole, daddy," Wonyoung almost laughs out in disbelief. 

"Not my fault you love it like that, princess." 

"Of course I do, dummy. Whatever makes daddy cum the hardest," she adds, panting between words to catch her breath, looking so goddamn gorgeous even through the brattiness that will always lurk. The only thing better is those red handprints all over her pale ass, left there as a reminder of what she’s earned. 

You give a firm squeeze of her ass one last time, a slight gasp leaving her when you force a bit more cum right out through her stretched hole, pushing the sticky mess right back in with a thumb that makes Wonyoung clench back around. “You always make me pump you so damn full, brat. Can't control myself around you."

"Wouldn't want you to," Wonyoung mumbles, leaving that thought unfinished as you savor these last moments, how good she looks face down, ass up like this, covered in sweat and cum dripping everywhere, even down her stockings and on the sheets below.

After you've finished enjoying the view, you glance down at her wrists and realize there's still the handcuffs on, wondering whether you should even bother taking them off.

"Daddy…" she whines, reminding you to make a decision when the silence lingers. 

"Yes, princess?" 

"I'm still handcuffed."

Quite the obvious fact—but you play oblivious. "You are. They look good on you, though."

You're not entirely sure you want to free Wonyoung. The pink leather looks gorgeous wrapped around those dainty wrists, her head against the pillows while she remains helpless, bent over with your cum dripping out. There's an appeal to watching her struggle—if only a bit. 

"Daddy! I can't kiss you like this," she complains, and you guess that’s a good enough reason as any to reach over and undo them. 

So you sigh, hoping to not regret it when you shuffle behind Wonyoung to uncuff her. With the restraints off, you kiss her wrists one at a time—rubbing your thumbs over the skin. She's back on her knees in no time at all, facing you on the bed so she can throw her arms around your shoulders, ready to pepper your face with soft kisses.

"Daddy wanted to leave me like that?" Wonyoung asks, this subtle shift into a sweeter tone when she kisses the corner of your lips.

"Thought about it." 

The handcuffs aren't a stranger to being around Wonyoung’s wrists, nor is the color pink—all too fitting on her.

Regardless, she keeps that pout, so unfairly cute when she wears it, a bit too irresistible. 

And so you let those pillowy lips meet yours again. One long kiss leads into another, and there's little effort to fight the hunger in each one as they press deeper. "Don't act like you don't love me fucking you when you're utterly helpless, princess." 

"Never said I didn't," she says, cupping your face in both hands without doing anything else. So you reciprocate, this slow kiss taking over, neither of you eager to end the exchange. That's the effect her lips have on you, so dangerous, more trouble than they're worth, in the best way possible.

"Brat. Should have really gagged you earlier. When my cock was fucking you senseless."

"You won't. Daddy loves making me scream when he ruins me," Wonyoung murmurs against your lips. “Handcuffs or not." 

That's news to nobody. 

✦ ✦

It's not the first time, and definitely won’t be the last that Jang Wonyoung wants more—

Not even an hour later and she's bent over the kitchen counter, right next to the leftover pizza from that one place Yujin loves that stays open after midnight. 

There isn't a single moment of rest for you with your cock back to splitting her ass open as you thrust rough and fast, wanting nothing more than to fill it all over again. Her fingers grab tight on the edge of the counter, your fist in her hair while your hips piston like a fucking train. 

The kitchen counter is more of Yujin's territory, wearing a cute apron without anything beneath while she's making breakfast for you, that sinful, round ass staring you right in the face. 

But Wonyoung insists this is the spot—the moment the two of you wander out of the shower. You're not picky when it comes to railing her into next week, finding the nearest surface, her perfect ass practically demanding your tongue before anything else. 

You're more than happy to indulge, burying your face in between those cheeks and devouring her asshole, craving all her delicious little moans as you find yourself back where you belong. A handful of hair, your cock lodged nice and deep In a mixture of saliva and lube, and those juicy ass cheeks being slapped. That's all you need.

Wonyoung, as expected, gets demanding fast, and it doesn't take long to move things back towards the living room.

To the couch, and a little detour where she ends up in a familiar position, legs stretched out, head over the armrest, hanging right over the edge—all for easier access to that warm little mouth. Then she's upside-down, laying back comfortably to the point where all she can do is wrap her pillowy lips around your cock, taking you so deep down that tight throat and gagging around it. A repeat of earlier last night. 

And before you know it, Wonyoung has you thrusting those hips while buried inside that tight ass yet again, her long legs spread so wide on the living room couch, bare feet up in the air and pointed toward the ceiling while you pound away. 

Fucking her face, her ass, wherever, whenever, Wonyoung seems incapable of quenching her insatiable needs tonight, demanding you use her petite body like she knows no limit. You're not about to tell her no, her warm little asshole sucking you back in at every given chance.

The couch, to nobody's surprise, becomes a wet fucking mess when you're buried so deep in Wonyoung's ass, staring at such a pretty face while she rubs her swollen clit, squirting all over you and the couch cushions in a loud, violent rush. 

After she's cum twice more, things move over to the armchair right next to the sofa—another piece of expensive furniture you're ready to defile. With Wonyoung clinging tight as your cock gets back inside that needy asshole, it's easy to sit her right on your lap, bare back against your chest and pound her like your life fucking depends on it. It's the perfect position to get so close, so intimate, staring at each other while your cock hammers away.

"Can you two keep it down over there?" Yujin asks, not even able to finish the sentence without laughing. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

You know that's a goddamn lie. Yujin steps in from the kitchen, not dressed for bed whatsoever, walking over to your side as you don't slow a thing. With a bowl of cereal and a spoon, she plops down onto the floor when she notices the couch is out of commission. 

"What did you two do to the couch?"

"S-shut up and eat your cereal," Wonyoung manages in between whimpers as her asshole gets wrecked right in front of Yujin's calm demeanor. And she's using the two of you as her own entertainment, the spoon dipping into her bowl, watching like it's all a movie on screen. 

Yujin laughs again. "Didn't answer the question."

“F-fuck you,” Wonyoung fires back, voice hoarse from all the screams and moans. 

Your eyes lock with Yujin's gaze that watches, eating up every second of this visual treat as your hard cock reams into Wonyoung, and you can barely contain how close you are to pumping her full. But Yujin just smirks, giving a quick, amused glance while she's crunching down. "Maybe later. You're a little preoccupied, princess."

Wonyoung doesn't respond right away, slapping her cunt when you slam into her so fucking hard. "If you wanted daddy to yourself, then you should've asked. “A-ahh, f-fuck—this big, thick cock stretching my asshole so much—"

"Don't worry," Yujin says, after an overly dramatic crunch. "I'll empty daddy's balls in the morning. Looks like you two are gonna be busy for a while."

Yeah, you could say that. At this rate, the sun will be up soon and Wonyoung is in one of those moods, you can tell. Every surface is in danger—and the same could be said about your poor cock that won't be given even the slightest hint of mercy.

“God—still haven't stopped, you're fucking addicted to being in my ass," says Wonyoung, locking an arm right behind your neck, whimpering and whining as your shaft pistons away.

"Me? You're the one wanting round whatever since we got out of that shower, you insatiable fucking brat. Taking my cock nonstop was your idea."

"This cock fucks me too well not to," she gasps out, before letting another filthy moan follow through.

Yujin keeps laughing through all of this. At this point, she's used to the sound of your cock splitting Wonyoung’s asshole with a merciless series of thrusts, happy to keep playing spectator. "Both of you are so fucking ridiculous. Two horny roommates obsessed with fucking each other’s brains out."

"Nnngh, fuck—and you're not? If you didn't have that stupid spoon in your mouth it would be on my fucking clit. Y-yes, ah—god, shit, shit, just like that, destroy me, daddy."

But she isn't wrong. That damn smirk is painted on the entire time, and Yujin knows how bad she can't wait to have a turn once Wonyoung finally gets satisfied enough.

Which might be a while.

For now, you can only wrap your hands under Wonyoung's thighs, spreading them even wider to pound up harder from below. Who even knows what ungodly hour it is, how much lube has been used, or how many more rounds you have in you. 

Your cock in Wonyoung, that cereal, and Yujin. A perfect trifecta, and a perfect ending to a perfect night.

[sapphiresaphics]

You don’t need to mention Zaun’s independence for me to know what you’re talking about. When people gripe about “the political issues being dropped” that’s usually what they’re talking about. And lo-and-behold thats EXACTLY what you think too.

And while you’re right about Vander and Silco’s motivations, you’re kinda missing the message here. If the way for Zaun to truly free itself and be independent is just to be MORE violent than Piltover, that’s sending a really fucked up message that it’s okay to be violent to get your way as long as you have a big enough stick.

“Respect the opposition how?” By seeing the opposition as HUMAN BEINGS. That’s literally the whole point of Warwick. Warwick is, by all accounts, a deadly personification of just raw violence. But because Vi and Jinx take the time to see Warwick has a human being, for a brief moment they are able to cut through the violence and achieve a semblance of peace and resolution.

It’s no coincidence that the scene where Vi and Jinx finally fight each other it’s crazy and raw and extremely violent with both of them using their powers as much as possible and the Arcane itself is going CRAZY glitching everything and making everyone angrier and less rational. It’s only when Isha steps in and Vi takes a moment to process what’s going on that she’s able to see the humanity in Jinx again and stop Caitlyn from killing her.

I also disagree about the learning empathy part. Caitlyn WAS on the path of using her position of power for GOOD and trying to right the wrongs of Piltover. However she was VIOLENTLY traumatized by Jinx. Kidnapped while naked and vulnerable, tied up and tortured, threatened with a gun to her head while bound and gagged, and then had to watch as a rocket slowly arcs across the sky to kill her mother. Cailtyn wouldn’t have gone down the dark path had such intense VIOLENCE not been enacted on her by Jinx.

Those questions about what Zaun would do AFTER achieving independence are compelling ideas. No question about that from me. BUT they aren’t for THIS story. Those could be storylines to focus on in future projects, but they aren’t really relevant HERE.

You are right that violence does play a part in achieving independence. And many of our civil rights were won because of violent acts standing up to the status quo. But you know what none of those stories involve? None of them involve successfully overthrowing the government and burning everything to the ground. Also none of them involve directly attacking peaceful memorials or blowing up state buildings. Most of the violent acts were acts of DEFIANCE against unfair and unjust laws. Or violent acts of protest and protecting the innocents who were being hurt. ANTIFA standing up to Nazis in Charlottesville is a perfect example. Rosa Parks refusing to leave the bus. The Stonewall riots. They were violent acts that drew attention to the problems so that LEGISLATION and LAWS could be created to HELP the disenfranchised.

Silco’s idea that he needs to start a war so violent that Piltover is SCARED of him is a foolish idea that will get a lot of people killed. Jinx blowing up the council only makes the oppression WORSE. In all of the times the two cities have come together it’s always because people realized the plight of the other and chose to TALK it out and set aside their pride to work together. Jayce and Silco. Both cities against Ambessa.

The happy AU exists for a reason. It’s showing what can happen when both sides put aside their grievances and work together. Remember, in that AU’s history the bridge attack still happened. The oppression of Zaun still happened. So how did they manage to come together? It wasn’t by fighting, that’s for sure. It wasn’t by violence. It was through communication and empathy towards one another.

The message certainly IS NOT “just be nice to your oppressors and the violence will stop.” If that’s your take away from everything I’ve said so far that’s a deliberately disingenuous interpretation. Violence will happen, but it’s only when we are able to look past the othering we do to the opposing side and find common ground to come together that we are able to break free of the cycle of violence. If we just use violence to beat the shit out of the other side all the time, the resentment and hate will never go away, it’s just adding more fuel to more and more violence down the road.

Again, I bring up Avatar the Last Airbender, which goes out of the way to show that the Fire Nation is not inherently evil despite the horrible atrocities, death, and oppression they are enacting on the world. If you can find empathy for The Fire Nation, you can find empathy for Piltover. And finding empathy for them DOES NOT mean you SHOULDN’T fight back to protect yourself.

"arcane was never a story about social classes." then maybe the first episode shouldn't have started with the fallout of a violent clash between enforcers and protesters, nor should the last one have ended with the councilors voting for zaun's independence - not out of goodwill - but out of fear of civil war.

class struggle isn't just some background detail in season 1, it's the thread that ties everything together. it shapes nearly every character, whether they embrace it, fight against it, or try to ignore it. it's there in vi and powder's tragic beginning, in viktor's uneasy rise, in silco's entire ideology, in caitlyn's slow realization of her privilege, in ekko's resistance. even those who think they're above it, like mel and the council, are ultimately forced to reckon with it.

you can't even tell an honest story about piltover and zaun without acknowledging the social conflict at their core, just like you can't set a story in demacia without addressing its oppression of mages, or a story in shurima without confronting its past as a fallen empire and the struggle between those who want to restore it and those who have moved on, etc ... each region of runeterra has a defining conflict at its core, something that shapes its people and its stories. piltover and zaun's is class struggle.

[goldenseresinretriever]

False Confidence: Chapter 19

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 5.5k

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You groan in protest as your alarm pierces the cloud of your sleep. You and Nat stayed up way too late after she kicked Charlie out to return to his hotel in the name of girls’ night. All the sugar from Nat’s room service certainly didn’t help but you’re definitely feeling the effects now. Light dances through the cracks in the drawn curtains as you flop onto your back and stare at the ceiling, trying to wake yourself up against the protests of your body. The game isn’t until tonight, but you and Javy are supposed to be meeting his family for brunch this morning. You roll over to see if you’ve unintentionally woken up Nat, but you’re surprised to see her bed is empty. Confused, you grab your phone, squinting against the bright light of your screen as you try to make out the texts waiting for you. As your eyes adjust, your heart sinks and you feel anxiety start to coat your stomach as dread sets in.

***

“Man, what the heck?!” Javy protests, covering his head with a pillow as he tries to escape the sunlight streaming through the now-uncovered windows. He struggles to hold onto the pillow as his roommate drags it away. “Jake! Quit it!”

“Come on, Javy, we need to get moving.” Jake jerks the pillow away and Javy scowls at his best friend who’s standing over him.

“Why? The game isn’t until tonight, why the heck are you waking me up at,” Javy squints at the digital clock on the bedside table, “seven AM? Dude, what gives?!”

“Coach called, we have a last-minute morning practice.” Now that wakes Javy up.

“WHAT?!” He’s fully awake now, sitting up and he sees that Jake is dressed for practice, a grim smile on his face.

“The bathroom’s yours, I figured I’d give you as much extra time to sleep as possible, I know you went to bed late last night.”

“I have breakfast with my family at 9!” Jake winces and gives Javy an apologetic look.

“I had plans too, but Coach’s word goes. We need to be at the rink in thirty.” Dread fills Javy’s stomach as the reality of his situation becomes clear. He’s not going to be able to make brunch, which on the surface is nothing, but he was supposed to introduce you to his family this morning, and you were joining them for breakfast. As he thinks about you his stomach drops even lower. He needs to talk to you about what happened last night. He’d been planning to do it before breakfast. He had it all planned out. He was going to meet you beforehand, and then go down to breakfast together afterwards. Now he’s not only going to miss breakfast, but he’s not going to get a chance to talk to you either. And given that this practice wasn’t planned, he has no idea when he’ll be done and whether he’ll be able to make a later brunch or even see you before the game.

Javy loves Coach Dare. She’s hands-down the best coach he’s ever had. She’s meticulous and incredibly observant. Despite her seniority, she’s always making time to work with players one-on-one and giving them individual feedback. The only downside of being that good of a coach is that she’s extremely dedicated, so if she thinks that they need an extra practice this morning, she’s going to call one. Javy groans deeply before grabbing his phone, trying to figure out how he’s going to handle this. The idea of just canceling on you with a simple text feels inherently wrong and he types out a quick message in the family group chat before dragging himself to the bathroom. He doesn’t have long before he needs to leave, but if he can be quick getting ready, maybe he can stop by your room and talk to you before heading out.

Twenty minutes later, Javy’s standing outside your door, trying to muster up the courage to wake you up for a conversation that definitely shouldn’t be had half-asleep. He feels guilty for waking you up, but he knows he needs to talk to you sooner rather than later, Zam’s words echoing in his brain as he knocks. The action is met with silence before he tries again. Again, silence. He sighs, fidgeting with his phone as he considers calling you. He knocks one more time, and when you still don’t answer, he calls you. He’s sent straight to voicemail, you must have your phone on silent for the night. He gnaws on his lip as he tries to decide what to do. He needs to talk to you, but with every minute that ticks by, it becomes clear that that’s not happening. Resignedly, he shoots you a text, explaining that he’s not going to be able to make breakfast due to the impromptu practice and that he’s sorry for having to bail on you. As he hits send, his phone buzzes with a message from Jake telling him to hurry up and he heads for the elevator with a heavy heart.

***

The first message is from Nat, explaining in an annoyed tone that Coach Dare called an impromptu morning practice and she had to go and help. The second message is from Javy, explaining the same in a more apologetic way, also adding that he won’t be able to make breakfast. You’re supposed to be meeting Javy’s mom and sisters this morning at breakfast at the restaurant downstairs. Nerves kick up as you realize that you’re going to have to go alone. Javy doesn’t mention that breakfast is canceled or shifted back, simply that he can’t make it. You don’t have any of his family’s phone numbers to ask if breakfast is still on, so you’re going to have to assume that it is.

You’d hoped to have a chance to talk with Javy about what happened last night, but that also seems impossible now, just adding to your anxiety as you collect your things and head back to your own hotel room.

You go through the motions of getting ready, trying to ignore the dread in your stomach as you prepare for the elevated stakes of this breakfast. You look at your reflection in the mirror as you start second-guessing your choice of outfit. You’d chosen a yellow sundress that you were sure Javy would like, but now you’re wondering if it’s an odd choice for meeting his family. You would’ve been meeting them anyway, you tell yourself, even as your heart patters with fear at the idea of meeting them alone. In the end, you decide to keep the dress, trying to keep to your plans as much as possible, even if they’ve been turned on their head.

Thankfully you know what the Machado family looks like thanks to photos that Javy’s shown you so you find their table easily once you reach the restaurant. You put on what you hope to be an amiable smile that hides the pounding of your heart as you approach. Javy’s older sister, Isadora, catches sight of you and waves brightly and the other three women at the table turn to look at you. As you get closer, you can hear your blood in your ears. The table is set for six and you really wish Javy was here. When you reach the table, Cece, one of Javy’s other sisters gets up and comes over to greet you. You’re about to extend a hand when she wraps you in a hug, giving you a quick squeeze.

“Roadie, it's so nice to finally meet you! I love your dress!” She guides you to an empty seat next to Isa. “We weren’t sure if you were still coming after Javy had to cancel. He kind of failed to mention whether we were still doing breakfast, but we figured we’d show just in case, and in the worst-case scenario we still get to eat, but I’m so glad you could make it!” You try to relax but your spine is ramrod straight. “Sorry, where are my manners, I’m Cece, this is Phie,” she squeezes the shoulder of the younger woman next to her, “that’s Isa, she nods at the woman sitting next to you, and then that’s our mom, of course.”

“Laverne, it’s so nice to meet you, Roadie.” Javy’s mother extends a hand to you and you wipe the sweat off your palms hurriedly before taking it and shaking. “Thank you for meeting us this morning, even if Javier couldn’t make it.”

“Of course, I’ve been really looking forward to meeting all of you.” You pray that your voice doesn’t shake as you speak up.

“You’re telling me, we’ve been dying to meet you!” Phie pipes up. “It’s just like Javy to finally get a girlfriend and then have to miss us meeting you for the first time, I’m sure he’s sweating bullets right now at the idea of all of us meeting without him.” She grins conspiratorially and you see the similarity between her and Javy.

“And for extra practice too? How bad are they?” Cece rolls her eyes and you feel a twist in your gut.

“They’re actually having a pretty good season, I think? People seem to think so, at least.”

“Do you follow hockey?” Isa asks and you shake your head, embarrassed.

“Not really, I didn’t know anything about it when I went to my first game. I’m learning though, Nat’s been teaching me.”

“Nat! Oh, I love Nat! Isn’t she just the best?” Phie chirps and you smile and nod. “I can’t believe she’s working for the Dogfighters, that’s so cool. Back when they were in high school, I definitely thought she and Javy would get together.” This is a surprise to you, but Cece shuts it down with a snort before you can start worrying.

“There’s no way Nat would go for Javy, he’s not her type.” Given what you’ve seen of her and Charlie, you’re inclined to agree. “Plus, what do you know?”

“Didn’t they go to prom together?” Phie shoots back.

“So? Javy was Javy, remember? All the girls wanted to go with him, but he didn’t want to. So he took Nat as friends to stick it to them since she didn’t have a date either. I don’t think either of them wanted to go, really.”

“How can you not want to go? It’s your senior prom! Not to mention, Javy won prom king! Imagine if he didn’t go!”

“Girls,” Laverne makes an attempt to steer the conversation back on track.

Phie rounds on you, then. “Roadie, did you go to your prom?” You swallow hard before nodding as you struggle to find the words.

“I did,”

“And you took a date?” Phie pushes and you nod again.

“Yeah, but he wasn’t my boyfriend.” You try to ignore the memories of that night rising to the surface.

“Just a friend then?” Cece asks.

You give her a nervous smile, “Yeah, something like that.” You need to steer the conversation away from you so you pivot back to Javy. “So Javy and Nat went together? I know they’ve been friends since high school.” Phie nods.

“Less of friends, more of menaces-in-arms,” Cece says with a roll of her eyes.

“I’ll say,” Isa pipes up. “You’re lucky you only had one year of high school with them.”

“Speak for yourself, they got progressively worse and I had them as seniors.”

“Girls,” Laverne interjects again before turning to you, “Javier says that you’re a teacher, Roadie?”

You nod, “I teach kindergarten at a private elementary school in San Diego. I’ve been at Acacia Academy for a few years now.”

“How long have you known you wanted to be a teacher?” Isa asks and you brighten, happy to talk about your job.

“Growing up, I found myself observing my teachers a lot. I appreciated the patience they had to have to manage all of their students. Sure, they had to teach them in an educational capacity, but they were also some of the most influential adults in our lives. Especially in elementary school, teachers are a third parent in a lot of ways. By the time I was in high school, I knew I wanted to teach, but once I went through high school, I knew my area of focus needed to be younger. I can’t imagine teaching high schoolers, and even middle schoolers are a lot more rowdy than I’m comfortable with. I love kids, and there’s something so special about having the privilege of being one of their first teachers. As a kindergarten teacher, I’m their first impression of elementary school, so it’s important to set the tone that school is fun and learning doesn’t have to be this thing they dread. Admittedly that means the stakes are high, but I love being able to be the one to show them that.”

“What drew you to Acacia Academy?” Laverne asks and you try to ignore the bitterness that fills your stomach.

“Before teaching there, I tried public school but it wasn’t for me. I didn’t like how big the schools are, it makes learning more impersonal when you have so many students, and personally I’m more comfortable in smaller schools. That being said, there are definitely downsides to working at a private school, but the joy I get from teaching the kids outweighs that.”

“Okay, I have a question,” Phie speaks up and you turn to her. “I know it’s maybe getting ahead of things, but Javy said you guys were in a fake relationship before you started dating him. Why? He said he did it because Zam wanted to fix his public image, but why did you? What was the benefit of dating Javy?”

You try and hide your wince. “Well, one of the downsides of working at Acacia is that my boss, Principal Jackson can sometimes be capricious, and without a public school board to keep him from getting out of hand, he sometimes makes arbitrary decisions. The day I met Javy, we had a staff meeting at which he said that while it wasn’t a hard and fast rule, he’d be taking our relationship statuses into consideration when reviewing our contracts for next year.” Phie’s jaw drops and Cece and Isa look surprised as Laverne’s brows furrow.

“Some of the teachers are a little more cavalier in their personal lives, and sometimes that slips into their professional one, especially amongst some of the single teachers. So I think this was his way of trying to crack down on that without angering people with a full-on ban on inter-teacher dating. I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time and I was worried that it would have an adverse effect on me being able to keep my job. That being said, I wasn’t really interested in trying to find a boyfriend just to secure my teaching contract for next year. I didn’t really date before Javy. And then that night I met Javy at the hockey game.” You stop there, assuming that your story has caught up to the version they know but after examining their waiting faces you realize they may not know what comes next.

“Okay, but how did you meet him? And you said you don’t keep up with hockey, so why were you at the game?” Phie asks. Your stomach twists as you realize that Javy hasn’t bothered to discuss the minutiae of the beginning of your relationship with his family, and while you don’t blame him, you’re not exactly thrilled about having to be the one to break the news.

“So, one of my colleagues and friends is Josie Fitch who teaches fourth grade at Acacia. Her husband, Reuben, plays on the Dogfighters. Josie’s always invited me to come with her and her kids to the games, and I finally accepted that day. I’d never been to a hockey game and honestly, it was a lot. I got separated from Josie in the rush after the game and got lost in the arena. I guess I ended up somewhere that wasn’t public access and I ran into Javy.” You pause, trying your best not to visibly wince as you continue your story. “He mistook me for a fan, since I was wearing a sweatshirt Josie got me, and thought I came looking for him since I guess he usually hooked up with girls after games.” You swallow. “And then he kissed me.” Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment. You watch the shock register on the faces of everyone at the table. Even Laverne’s cool and collected expression is broken by the sharp rise of her eyebrows and purse of her lips. “Long story short, apparently someone got a photo of the kiss through a window nearby and I ended up in the tabloids. Zam called me in to try and get ahead of any lawsuit I might want to file based on sexual harassment, which I wasn’t planning to anyway, and Josie suggested a mutually beneficial agreement where Javy would have a girlfriend to convince the media that he had settled down and I would have a boyfriend so I’d have a better chance of keeping my job.”

Cece has her head in her hands. “That idiot,” she shakes her head. “I knew he was stupid, but that really takes the cake. What kind of person kisses some random girl he’s never met without even asking who you were?”

“Our brother, apparently,” Isa says grimly. “So you guys started fake dating?” You nod. “He said you were fake dating before you were regular dating, but he never really explained why it started in the first place.”

“He didn’t lie, necessarily,” Phie speaks up. “He said he met you through one of the guys’ wives, which I guess is true.”

“He probably didn’t want to embarrass you,” Isa says after a moment. “Or himself, but we already know he’s an idiot. When he finally told us about you, he was the most earnest I’ve ever seen him. He probably didn’t want to introduce anything that would make us make any assumptions about you before we actually met you.” You nod.

“I’m not mad at him for it, I just wish he’d told me you didn’t know. Though I’m sure he would have preferred to tell you himself, he just expected to be here today.” The two other girls nod somberly.

Javy’s mom has been quiet this whole time and you find yourself glancing at her nervously. She catches your gaze and straightens, a sigh on her lips. “You had every reason to bring a lawsuit against Javy, and yet you didn’t, why? I understand you managed to gain something out of your mutual agreement, but the money you would have received from the lawsuit would have been substantial.”

You sigh, trying to ignore the twinge of shame at the mild insinuation that you could have used Javy to make a quick buck. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. I’m a pretty private person, and I already had my face all over the tabloids. Sure, the press would move on, but people at my job saw the photo and that was already drawing unnecessary and unwanted attention to me. I just wanted to forget it happened and move on with my life. I didn’t even want to go and talk to Zam when she contacted me, I only went because Josie pressed me to. Even the fake-dating agreement wasn’t my idea, it was Josie’s. She saw that I was stressing out about potentially losing my job and offered me a way out.”

“Sure, it pushed me out of my comfort zone and straight into the spotlight but it wasn’t about me anymore. I love my job, and I love the kids that I work with. I did it for them. You’re right, I could work anywhere, but there’s something about the kids at Acacia. They’re usually the kids of wealthy or prominent parents. They don’t always get what you’d consider a normal childhood. Some of them are forced to grow up too fast. They deserve to be able to feel like normal kids as long as possible, and so I want to create an environment in the classroom where they can just be themselves and learn and grow together.”

“As I mentioned earlier, kindergarten is their first experience in elementary school. It sets the tone for the rest of their years at the school and maybe even how they approach education for the rest of their lives. I take my job very seriously and I love my students, so if I had to sacrifice my personal comfort to keep my job that was going to affect a lot more people than just me, it was worth it in my eyes.”

“I was never going to sue Javy. It’s never been about me, and even if I did want to, just because I teach at a private school doesn’t mean I make much more than the average teacher. I don’t have the money for a lawyer. Josie offered to pay for one if I wanted it, but I didn’t, that’s just not me.” You shrug.

“And I know what it looks like.” You twist your hands in your lap nervously. “I trapped Javy in a fake relationship, and seduced him, all in a ploy to get access to him and his money, but I’m telling you right now, that that’s not me. When I first started dating Javy, I was so uncomfortable, and I hated it. The only other time I dated someone was back in high school and it turned out that he only dated me as a dare.” Your gut twists. You never used to talk about Andrew and yet now the words flow so naturally, like you’ve abandoned the shame that held you captive for so long.

“I didn’t really have friends growing up, and I got used to being alone until I met Josie. When I started dating Javy I was so in over my head.” You let out a nervous laugh at the memory. “Even just hugging him or holding his hand made me so anxious that I wanted to throw up, nothing felt natural, and I guess it wasn’t. But he was so patient with me, he never pushed me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with, and he always looked out for me even when he didn’t have to. I had a panic attack on our first date and he talked me off the ledge. When my car got wrecked, he lent me his car. He and Jake came to career day and taught my students about being a hockey player.” Your lips twitch in a fond smile. “Even when we decided to end the fake relationship, he just wanted to be my friend. He’s not perfect, but he’s always trying. Even when he messes up, he still tries. It’s what made me fall in love with him.” You squeeze your hands in your lap as the words come out yet again. Mentally you curse yourself for telling yet another person that isn’t Javy.

“You really love each other,” Isa speaks up, a fond smile on her lips. You nod, cheeks heating. Before, you might have brushed off the fact that a Javy loved you but his words from last night echo in your mind. You turn back to Laverne, waiting for her to say something, anything as your heart thunders in your chest.

Finally, she speaks up, “Javy’s never been easy. People rarely are, but some are harder than most. Very few people truly know him, especially with the persona that he chooses to show to the world. It’s always worried me. I know I raised a better man than the one that the world gets to see. I’m glad that you see him.” Her eyes are still unreadable but her soft smile fills you with relief.

“Just because someone’s not easy, doesn’t mean their not worth loving. We’ve taught each other that, I think. It’s something new to both of us but we’re figuring it out together.” Laverne nods at your words.

“You’re very wise, Roadie.” She remarks and your cheeks heat.

“I’m not sure about that, I think it’s just a byproduct of overthinking everything.” You admit with a nervous laugh.

“How you reach a result doesn’t change the result,” she says and you fall silent, unable to argue with that.

“So Roadie, Javy says you’re an artist?” Cece pipes up, changing the subject. You nod.

“I paint.”

“He sent me pictures of your gallery exhibit and you’re really good!” You feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “I mean it! I’m an art curator, I should know.” She says with a smirk and your eyes widen in surprise.

“You’re a curator?” She nods.

“I work for a museum right now, so not gallery work, but before this, I worked freelance for galleries around New Orleans as well as for a few private collectors. I’ve seen a lot of art, so let me say, you have a lot of promise if you want to take your work commercial. Freelance work gave me a great network, and I’d love to recommend you to some of the people I know. I know your work doesn’t give you a lot of flexibility to travel, so I can see if I’ve got any contacts who work in Southern California or if they know anyone. And then of course, if you wanted to come down to New Orleans this summer, I could absolutely get you into some exhibitions. If you send me your portfolio, I’ll spread it around.”

You’re dumbfounded. You’ve always loved painting and dreamed of a future where you’d be able to share it with the world and even sell it to supplement your income, but it had always been a pipe dream more than a goal. You’d gotten your first gallery show by chance, filling out some application that caught your eye the last time you visited the art museum. You hadn’t expected anything to come of it, but you’d tried not to let that stop you from trying. Now, here was Cecelia, offering you an actual chance to make your dream come true.

“Thank you,” you stammer, unable to hide your surprise at her kindness, “thank you so much, I’d love that!” She smiles warmly, clasping her hands in excitement.

“Perfect! I’ve been begging Javy to ask you, but he said it would be better coming from me, I’ve been obsessed ever since he showed me the painting he’s got in his living room. I’m jealous, honestly, it’s such a beautiful piece.” Your cheeks heat with pride at the praise. You hadn’t really considered who would see your painting when you agreed to sell it to Javy, you were just surprised that he wanted it and were way too focused on arguing with him about paying for it. He just shut down your protests, insisting that he wanted to be the privilege of being the first person to buy your art.

“You have to come visit this summer, Roadie, whether you decide to show off your art or not! You definitely should, it’s super good, but even if you decide not to, you have to come to New Orleans! It’s the perfect city for art lovers and I’m sure you’d love it!” Phie bubbles with excitement at the prospect.

Your heart warms at all the kindness and acceptance being shown to you. You’ve gotten used to having Javy around and the little bubble that’s your relationship and has grown into the Dogfighters family. And now you feel the Machados offering you entry into yet another family and you’re touched by how quickly and earnestly they’re welcoming you in. “What do you do, Sophie? I know Isadora runs a flower shop, Javy told me that.”

Phie waves you off, “It’s Phie, Isa, and Cece, no one calls us by our full names, I promise. Plus, you’re family now.” Your heart squeezes. “But as for me?” She lets out an exhausted groan and slumps over the table dramatically and you see a bit of Javy in the action, “I’m currently in the trenches getting my MBA. I want to get into sports management, so I’m trying to figure out if I need to go to law school to supplement that. Honestly, I’m sick of school, no offense, but if it's what I need to do, it’s what I need to do.”

You perk up at that. “You should talk to Bugs’s brother, Charlie, he’s in sports law. He’s here visiting a client so there’s a good chance he’ll be at the game tonight.”

Phie sits up, light in her eyes. “Really? That would be great!”

You nod, “I’ll introduce you.”

“Roadieeeee! You’re the best!” She bounds out of her seat and comes up behind you to give you a big hug and you’re touched. Once she makes her way back to her seat you turn to Isa.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for the flowers. I know Javy bought them, but he said you helped him choose. I don’t know how you managed to guess it, but tiger lilies are my favorite.”

She gives you a knowing smile. “That’s my gift. It’s the reason that I love my job so much, there’s nothing more fulfilling than helping someone pick flowers for someone when they don’t know what to get.”

“That’s amazing, I’d never even considered that before. You’re an artist in a way, I mean that’s what art is.” She nods.

“Unfortunately I’m absolute rubbish at actual art, but it feels like painting or even writing in a way. That’s the reason people used to associate flowers with language. They say something as long as you’re listening.”

“Give her a call when you get married, she’ll give you a discount,” Phie says with a cheeky grin and a wink your way that makes your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Phie!” Cece exclaims, elbowing her sister with a bemused smile.

“What?! I want to know! Javy’s such a boy, he doesn’t tell us nearly enough details!” She turns from squabbling with her sister to look at you earnestly, “So do you think you want to marry Javy?”

Your heart thuds at the idea of a future with Javy. You have no intention of giving him up, but you’ve been so busy stressing over the immediate future that you haven’t considered the details of a long-term one. You think about Josie and Reuben and you allow yourself to imagine a life where you’re in a similar situation. You and Josie raising your kids together while your husbands, your heart flutters at the thought of the word, travel for a living. It won’t be easy. You know better than to romanticize the life you’ve been observing for months now. You’ll have to do a lot alone, and Javy won’t always be around to help. But even as you consider the downsides, you think about summers where both you and Javy will be free to enjoy every moment with your kids during vacation. The sweet summers will make up for the hard winters, and while it won’t be perfect, it’ll be yours. You realize that you want that, more than you expected. “Not right this second,” you admit. “I want to take things slow since this is my first real relationship, but one day,” you take a deep breath. “Yeah, I think I would.”

Phie screeches with excitement and Laverne gives her a stern look even as her own lips curve upwards. Isa and Cece can’t help their excitement even if they try to hide it. “We thought the day would never come!” Phie exclaims dramatically. “And here I was thinking he’d die alone in the basement of my mansion!”

Isa snorts at that. “What mansion? You live at home.”

Phie feigns affront. “For now, but once I’m a kickass sports manager, and I steal the Dogfighters from Beau Simpson, I’m going to have a California McMansion for me and my cats!” Cece rolls her eyes and you chuckle at their comfortable antics. It reminds you of the Dogfighters and the way Jake and Javy bicker.

You’re torn from your observation of the girls by Laverne’s hand on yours. You turn to her to see her smiling at you softly. “Thank you,” she says and you can’t help the way your heart flips at the sincerity of her words. “Javy’s important to all of us, and I can see he’s important to you too. So thank you, for being patient with him. As his mother, I’ve had decades of practice, yet sometimes even I don’t know what to do with him. I can see him changing, growing into the man I always knew he was capable of becoming. Thank you for helping him with that, and giving him a reason to do so.”

“He’s a good man,” you admit. “He’s just afraid of letting the rest of the world see that. I’m lucky to have him. Really,” you feel tears prick the back of your eyes as you consider what your life would look like if you’d never met Javy. You’d still be lonely, pushing away Josie’s attempts to get closer to you, living in fear of trying anything remotely new and out of your comfort zone. Now you have friends, a family, and a future that you’re nervously excited to experience.

A/N: Roadie’s officially met the family and I think it went well! Javy and her still have an important conversation that they need to have, though 🫣

[sleepingdeath-light]

mercurial knight cookie + fem s/o smut hcs ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (28/01/25)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; mercurial knight

outline ; “(i am 18) hihi! could you please do basic or smut mercurial knight (crk) x fem!reader hcs? whichever you feel more inspired to do. thank you!”

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, service switch!mercurial knight cookie, praise kink, wing play, oral sex (fem receiving), period oral, brief mention of semi-public sex acts

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

mercurial knight cookie is someone who is extremely adaptable, who lives to serve, and who thrives when given orders to follow, and those traits only become all the more obvious in the bedroom — as such he’s a very versatile switch who gets off more on your pleasure than his own (does that make him a ‘service switch’?)

follows every order you give him without hesitation unless he knows that doing what you ask would cause you physical harm or mental distress. in other words: you tell him to eat him out and he’s dropping to his knees to suck on your clit and fuck you with his tongue, you tell him to go deeper when he’s topping and he’s readjusting his angle so he can go as deep as possible with each thrust, you tell him you want him to fuck you against that wall then he’s checking for any passersby and lifting you into his arms with ease so he can do exactly what you want, and so on — you pretty much have this man wrapped around your finger from day one

he always prefers to be the one pleasuring you and it’s much easier for him to do that as a top — saying that, it’s not like he’s entirely opposed to bottoming, rather that it’s not his usual preference and he has zero experience with doing it. but if you’re adamant that you’ll get a great deal of enjoyment out of topping him then he can be convinced to get on his back for you (and only his back, he refuses to bottom in doggy style or the like)

he’s more than strong and flexible enough to settle comfortably into whatever position you desire and rarely ever voices a preference for anything unless pressed a lot on the matter — that being said, while he never outwardly expresses as much it’s clear as day that he does enjoy topping in positions where he can more easily see your face as he fucks you (e.g. missionary, cowgirl, mating press, and so on)

he’s extremely respectful in the bedroom, bordering on formal at times, and adamantly refuses to degrade or humiliate you during sex or foreplay — even if you beg. there are some lines he just refuses to cross, so you’ll have to settle for blunt commentary about how good you smell/feel/taste and intermittent but earnestly spoken praise (which he gets all the more liberal with whenever he’s close to orgasm)

he love going down on you and could happily do it for hours at a time if ever you asked it of him. the taste of you is addictive to him, and he can’t get enough of the feeling of your cunt clenching around his tongue, and the sounds you make when he sucks on your clit when he fingers you might just have been enough to make him cum on their own if he were a weaker man (and hadn’t been reforged from metal). and if you think being on your period is going to put him off of giving you oral then you’re dead wrong — he’s a man, not a boy. blood doesn’t bother him at all

(bonus points if you ride his face and use him for your pleasure when he’s acting as your submissive because you will make his whole week)

the process that he went to in order to become who he is now removed a great deal of the sensitivity from his body, that being said his wings have maintained some degree of sensitivity (at least compared to the rest of him) and if you touch them gently/sensually enough then you’ll still be able to get some small response out of him… that response is usually a shiver down his spine and a throaty groan, but at least it’s something

mercurial knight cookie doesn’t really use any pet names in the bedroom and will likewise just encourage you to call him by his name when you’re having sex, but if you happen to slip up and address him with a particularly sweet term of endearment (like ‘sweetheart’, ‘baby’, or ‘love’) then he certainly won’t complain… in fact it only makes him all the more eager to make you feel good

he doesn’t really actively crave sex anymore but if you’re in the mood (and he’s available) then he’ll always do his best to help you out — sometimes this means actually making love to you, but more often than not (especially if you have quite a high sex drive) his help is usually limited to him putting his hands and mouth to good use between your legs before he returns to his usual duties

he isn’t exceptionally vocal when he’s not actually speaking, but he will occasionally let out shuddering gasps, low groans or maybe even a deep grunt if he’s really getting into the moment — or when you’re going down on him and you do that thing with your tongue that he loves, but he’d never admit to enjoying an act that he deems as extremely selfish

while he’s not entirely opposed to having sex in riskier locations as long as he’s certain that you won’t be caught, mercurial knight cookie much prefers to make love to you in your shared bed — it’s safer, more comfortable, and far more intimate so it’s a natural choice in his mind

extremely and unrelentingly thorough when it comes to aftercare so you’d better get used to being pampered beyond your wildest dreams

[loveshard]

eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, stephen leaned back in his chair, giving skylar some space that she desperately needed. he could sense the panic, the unease. she was a flustered mess and a cute one at that. like a doe caught in headlights, wide-eyed and seeking for a way out. but him? he was thriving. fucking thrilled to be landing exactly where he'd hoped to end up. this was the best thing that had ever happened to him. there was no second-guessing her unusual proposition. this was dangerous territory, sure. this would undoubtedly blur the lines between their fake relationship and something far more real, but the temptation was too great to resist. he'd been fantasizing about this moment for weeks, maybe even months. he definitely wasn't on the verge of saying no.

"hey," he said softly, reaching across the table to catch her wrist before she could stuff another piece of sushi into her mouth. "slow down before you choke, yeah?" she trusts me, he thought, something fragile and warm unfurling in his ribcage at the realization. implicitly. it was a heady thing, that trust, especially from someone he highly regarded. he knew he hadn't always been worthy of it, his recklessness and jealousy getting the better of him more times than he cared to admit. but in this moment, with her sitting beside him, face flushed and eyes wide, he wanted nothing more than to prove himself deserving. "that's… quite the compliment, sky. trusting me, i mean." he leaned in again, eyes roaming her face. "i trust you, too. implicitly."

and maybe stephen should have been a gentleman about it, reassured her that she didn’t need to go through such extremes for a role, that there were other ways to prepare. but stephen had never been one to do what he should do. he was down for the cause, for the sake of her career, and other reasons he couldn't fully explain. he reached out, plucking a stray grain of rice from the corner of her lip with the pad of his thumb before popping it into his own mouth with a casual smirk, continuing to assert his right to occupy her personal space. as any good boyfriend, fake or not, could.

"which is why i'm not saying no," he finally said, slowly, "if you want me to teach you, i'll teach you. anything you want to know, but this isn't something you rush into," he tried to explain, wondering if she understood the weight of the ask. "you’re not just asking for help memorizing lines here. you’re asking me to go full method acting with you. you do realize that, right?" his gaze dropped to sky's lips, remembering the softness of them against his own, the tentative sweep of her tongue. he wanted to taste her again, to lose himself in the sweet heat of her mouth; but more than that, he wanted her to be sure. "we won't be able to go back and forget about it the morning after."

the silence was deafening. there was an immediate regret there in the stretch of time that he didn't answer her yet. it was ridiculous for her to admit, but she just didn't want to do her first sex scene without having no experience with the real thing. she took her craft seriously, and if the advice from her acting teachers and actor friends was anything to go off of, sex was just not a thing you could skimp out on when it came down to it. nevermind the fact that stephen was the subject of her many sex fantasies since not too long after they started fake dating.

so when he leaned down, their faces inches apart, sky let out a sound of surprise. like a kitten's mewl, tiny and soft. stephen's words did nothing to help her situation, her whole body lighting up with the flushed feeling. "i- i didn't say anything about corrupting!" she said back, though she knew it was a weak defense. it was implicit and even explicit in the question itself. first kiss and virginity to someone who was only supposed to be her fake boyfriend? it was kind of ridiculous. but what stephen and her had wasn't something that could be replicated or understood with an intimacy coach. and she banked on the fact that she knew, at least on some level, that he was attracted to her. and fuck, if the little spark she felt when she noticed his eyes flicker down to her lips, was anything to go off of, she was too.

"yes, i mean why else would i ask you to have sex with me, right? it's for my role, like the kissing." right? it seemed like the most natural conclusion to her. the idea of it being any one other than stephen felt ludicrous to her. she wanted him, no one else. the kissing she still did with him was an added bonus. "i- i trust you. implicitly. there are only so many people i can say that about." she swallowed, red hot shame colouring her face. "you can say no, of course. and we can forget i ever asked you this." the words rush out of her in a flurry, her hands coming out to stuff lips with sushi to get herself ready for potential rejection.

[zevrra]

𝐢. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

synop: you and vik get caught “messing around” in the lab by jayce; who surprisingly wants to join in on the fun.

wc: 1.8k

includes: straight smut, p w/o p, fem!reader, jayce x reader x viktor, slight vöyeurism, oral (m receiving), slight dirty talk, threesome, bottom!viktor

extra: part 2 is here! reblogs are appreciated <3

“don’t worry,” you whisper, fingers twirling along a red tie before smoothing down the front of viktor’s vest. “i sent jayce out on an errand run and he won’t be back for a little bit. just enjoy this v.” you add with a hum.

viktor looks up through his pretty lashes at you. he leans back against his desk, practically sits on top of it to keep weight off of his leg, as you two stand inside of the lab. he had been working far too hard recently and the only way you could keep him distracted long enough not to think about anything involving his work was to pleasure him. it was the same way trying to get him to sleep every once and awhile, when he would sneak into your room. you had never suggested doing it in the lab though…and the thought thrilled you just as much as it thrilled him; even if he thought it was a terrible idea.

“w-we shouldn’t. not here in the lab and what if—” viktor mumbles but his words end in a soft gasp as your fingers begin to untuck his shirt from his pants.

“viktor,” you chirp as you fall to your knees in front of him, unbuttoning the front of his pants and pulling them down ever so slightly. “you need to take a break. be a good boy and just relax.”

your fingers are just grabbing the hem of his underwear when the door to the lab is being thrown open and jayce’s large figure enters the room. “hey, i was looking for this thing you asked for but i—“ jayce had begun to speak, his eyes pointed down as he entered the room, before he finally looked up and caught the two of his friends in the act.

you freeze in your spot, eyes widening as you stare at jayce from the floor. a scarlet red blush is spreading across your face, you can feel the heat on your cheeks in an instant and you’re sure you match not only jayce’s shocked face but viktor’s as well; and you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him. you probably stay like that for a little longer than you should’ve until jayce clears his throat and you and viktor alike scramble from each other.

“we!” you start as you stand up straight and as quick as you possibly can. “wait it’s not what it looks like! we were uh just uhm—“ you ramble before looking at viktor to help dig both of you out of this hole. but he’s busied himself with trying to zip his pants back up, making it far more obvious if it hadn’t been already. you sigh, turning your face off to the side to stare at a small spot on the floor, unable to look jayce in the eye.

“do…you do this often?” jayce’s voice cuts through the built up silence in the room like a knife.

you shake your head quickly but viktor speaks up for you instead. “never in the lab.” he mutters.

“it’s unprofessional, we get it, let’s just drop it and forget this—“ you begin to add but the sound of the door closing with a lock interrupts your rambling. when you finally bring your gaze to jayce, his eyes are soft but clear in their intentions. and it was his turn to no longer be able to look at the two of you.

“can i…watch?” he whispers under his breath.

and with three little words, everything changes between all three of you.

now, jayce leans against the lab’s desk as viktor leans back against his chest. jay’s strong hands fully support viktor as you’ve returned to your spot in front of him. you had never in your life thought jayce might have been interested in whatever you and viktor had going on. maybe you just assumed he already had a lover and never brought it up again. but now his hazel eyes stare down at you, just as viktor’s amber eyes also watch you, both with a hunger to their eye. it almost made you nervous, being watched, but your fingers once again hook around viktor’s underwear and pull down, ignoring the jitters that hum under your skin.

your hand wraps around vik’s semi hard cock and you give it a soft tug, rubbing right up the shaft until the tip. there was a new feeling in the air around all 3 of you. breaths being held, eyes watching ever so closely, the slight tremble to your hand. it had been different when it was just the two of you enjoying midnight meetings but now with jayce there too…it felt far more scandalous and naughty.

“tell me what it feels like.” jayce whispers, purposely placing his chin into the crook of viktor’s neck, as his hands slowly run up along vik’s chest.

your own hand continues to move against viktor’s shaft, stroking him slowly up and down, moving to press your lips against his head.

“mmph, her fingers are a little cold,” viktor replies with a low groan. his chest rising and falling in quicker succession as he begins to get turned on. “but it feels good.” he adds. and his honesty makes you smile a little.

you move your hand faster in return to his praise. trailing your fingers along his head, pressing your thumb into the slit of his cöck, where he’s growing sensitive and causing him to gasp softly. you take the moment to lean forward and capture the head of his cock inside of your mouth. drinking in the sight of viktor’s eyes fluttering, his fingers tightening onto whatever he can grasp, as your mouth wraps around him.

“keep going viktor.” jayce instructs as you watch him place hot, heavy kisses against vik’s throat. one of his hands groping his thin chest and waist.

“w-warm! it’s so warm and wet,” vik breaks. he’s fully hard now as you suck on his head, making him whimper at the feeling. “feels—ah—really good.” he adds with a groan as his eyes return to watching you.

you can feel his thighs tighten as you swallow more of his cöck, continuing to use your hand to stroke up to your lips. you watch every expression that crosses viktor’s face along with jayce’s fingers that slowly begin to take off his vest. strips him of his vest and then works on unbuttoning his brown shirt underneath.

jayce keeps laying hot kisses along the back of his neck and on his throat, slumped over and threatening to swallow all of viktor’s thin frame.

the sight makes you somewhat giddy and excited to see what jayce does. but it never distracts you from making viktor feel good as well. sucking a little harder, spit bubbling up at the sides of your lips as you sink further down onto his lengthy shaft. your eyes are almost falling close to help you focus as you swallow more and more of him, but jayce’s voice catches your attention once again.

“she looks so pretty like that, doesn’t she, vik? makin’ you feel so good.” he whispers against just as pretty, pale skin. his words cause vik to stutter, hips lifting up and forcing you to swallow the rest of him. and you do so with ease.

you truly wouldn’t have guessed jayce was so good at dirty talk but you welcomed any surprises at this point. viktor simply whines in response, head hanging low, gaze still on you as you continue your routine of sucking him off.

jayce stands to his full height then, hanging over viktor just enough so he could turn his face and capture his lips. viktor’s eyes widen in response but he does nothing to stop jayce; no, instead he’s melting into the kiss. you watch with eager curiosity as their tongues clash together, jayce easily winning in the battle of dominance, as one big hand of his moves up to gently caress viktor’s throat.

fuck, was it hot watching them. you can feel your pussy throbbing at the sight just as you can feel yourself growing wet against your panties. you squeeze your thighs together, slipping a hand down below to press your fingers into your core. the best you can through the pants you wear for the moment but the pressure is enough to make you groan. you move your lips faster along viktor’s shaft, sucking harsher and sloppier to bring him closer to his end.

the change of pace and jayce’s tongue surely has viktor coming undone quicker than usual. for he breaks the kiss with a harsh whine. “i’m close!” vik gasps, tossing his head back onto jayce’s shoulder.

jayce presses a quick kiss against his jaw before his hazel eyes return to watch you suck viktor off. his eyes are hazy and full of lust as he fixes his intense stare on what you do; which makes you shiver with newfound pleasure under his sight. his strong gaze makes you press your fingers into your pussy once again, seeking any form of satisfaction you could get for the moment.

“look viktor,” jayce instructs as his hand smooths over viktor’s lower abdomen. “she’s touching herself.”

viktor’s breath hitches in his throat but he moves his own lust filled gaze down to stare at you. with both of them returning to stare at you, you palm yourself harder through your pants. moving your hips in sync to every bob of your head, needy and desperate as things evolve, all the while you moan around vik’s cock.

it’s all too much for viktor as his hips lift and he thrusts wildly into your mouth. “going to—!” he cries softly, body tightening, throwing his full weight back against jayce.

but jayce is quicker. one hand grabs your hair and pulls you off of vik’s twitching cock before he takes his hand and wraps it around where your mouth had just left. “stick out your tongue. i wanna see the mess he makes all over your face.” he grunts, pumping his fist quickly along vik’s entire shaft. his hand is much bigger than yours and it wraps entirely around viktor with ease, and it makes vik lose all control he might’ve pretended to have.

but you do as your told and swiftly stick your tongue out to catch whatever you can. all it takes is viktor staring at your tongue and jayce’s hand jerking him off to finish his orgasm. viktor forces himself to watch as he comes, fingers grasping and gripping onto anything he can that’s near him as he tumbles over the edge with a sharp cry.

your name, along with jayce’s name, leaves viktor’s lips in a pathetic whimper as he comes. can feel the sticky substance coat your tongue, cheek, and chin with each rope jayce rubs out of him. all the while viktor and jayce watch as he makes a mess across your lips and face, never once looking anywhere else.

not until vik is completely spent, limp against jayce who holds him up effortlessly. the only noise now in the room is the shared panting between all three of you. you lick your lips, trying to clean yourself up just a little, before it was your turn to break the silence.

“let’s keep going.”

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

I love your work, could you please write a viktor x reader who takes care of him. like makes sure he eats, they make baked goods for him or make him go to bed in time. I think it would be cute

Heyo! Sure I can, even if it’s been a while since I wrote for Viktor (or anything) lmao

Caretaker!Reader

Viktor takes well enough care of himself, to his own standards

So we all know he can use a little more help and a little helping hand

I think Viktor is pretty independent so it takes a lot out of him to even be able to do this kind of intimate thing with you

If he does, it takes a lot of vulnerability as you would see him at his lowest

There have been times where he probably refused and would try and get out of any situation where you found out he needed help and to be taken care of

He doesn’t want to bother you or anything when he deems it able to be done by himself

It takes a while for him to be comfortable enough with you and your relationship to let himself be vulnerable in that way

As he has never done this kind of thing with anyone else before

But once it happens, trust me, you’re golden

I think he does like sweets and baked goods, so to have you bring him any on a whim and not because you have to, but because you care warms his heart absolutely

He often forgets to take care of himself and his basic needs, like eating and stuff like that for his experiments and research

So he relies on you for that a little bit once he knows you will always be there for him

He loves when you cook or bake for him and knowing it’s so he knows he’s taken care of makes each bite better than the last

At first when you attempted to get him on some sort of decent sleep schedule, he resisted

He went to bed whenever, or whenever his research was done or he passed out and often it was in the lab or at his desk or in the middle of his studying at the table

SOO you would often have to bring him to bed yourself

Once you wore him down enough, he acted like you won

You thought you did until you found out he was just waiting till you fell asleep and slipped out off bed, and slipped back in just before you woke up and pretended to wake up beside you

You had to scold him probably, or it was some sort of argument

He realized you just wanted him to be healthy, and for him to be well rested

Reluctantly, he began going to sleep with you and waking up beside you in the mornings

He found he actually did like this habit because sleeping beside you was surprisingly comforting

He loved hearing your breathing pattern as you fell asleep, and it helped him fall asleep to hear and feel your heart beating as you both snuggled to sleep

And he loved watching you wake up slowly in the mornings

It was all worth it

One thing he was very stubborn about you not doing was taking care of his leg I think

Probably because he feels as his sort of disability is a bother enough, he doesn’t want you to be burdened with it

He probably thinks that if you see that part of him, you’ll think he’s not worth it and leave

And that’s not the case

He only finds out on a particularly harsh day when it hurt so bad, and it was so sore all he could do was want to fall asleep and alleviate the pain by any means

You maybe kissed his leg, maybe rubbed out the pain, maybe helped him in any way

But as you did it, he loved the feeling and could only watch you do so and the warm feeling in his chest never left

So, on the hard days, he would drop subtle hints that he wanted to be taken care of

Like subtly saying “oh, it just hurts, I have no clue how to fix it…” and wait for you to offer to rub it

I feel he likes being babied a little bit, but not to much

He doesn’t like being treated as glass or like he is incompetent

But he does love being taken care of by you

Be it food, tending to him or showering or making sure he is fed and clean

He loves showering with you

He loves having you wash his hair and the feelings of your hand in it or feeling you lather the soap on him while he just gets to relax and close his eyes and know your there

And that he’s able to soak in all the love

Obviously he returns it all in his own way but

It’s just all the love you pour in

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument

love and deepspace

characters: Zayne, Sylus (pt2 here pt3 here)

note: they might be a little mischaracterized so bear with me.

Zayne

Usually, arguments with Zayne don’t get this heated. There was no yelling, not on his part at least, but he could be really cold with his words when he wanted to be. Not that you were any better. Some things you said hurt him to no end. So you came up with a decision - to sleep on a couch tonight. To be honest, it was more because to be petty, than not wanting to spend a night beside him. You gathered your pillow and blanket and got comfortable on the couch, which made Zayne sigh out loud when he entered the room.

“What is this?”

You turned your back to him as an answer. Another sigh comes out of his mouth. He’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you acting like a brat doesn’t ease anything at all.

“I know you’re mad, dear but is this necessary?”

No answer.

“Alright”

He left the room and before you could convince yourself that you didn’t care he was back with a blanket of his own and took a seat in an armchair. You turn your head towards him in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“I guess we’re not sleeping in bed tonight”

“I’m not. You can go”

“I believe I didn’t stutter”

You scoffed and turned around again.

“suit yourself”

Minutes pass and sleep doesn’t come to you. Whether it’s because of an uncomfortable couch or an absence of his arms around you is hard to say, but after turning around thousands of times and still not being able to sleep is frustrating.

Finally, Zayne had enough of watching your struggle.

“How about we go to bed?”

“No” came your response after a second of hesitation. With a small amused smile on his face, he hovered over the couch.

“What do you say… I take you to bed and you can curse me out for it tomorrow?”

You shifted a little but didn’t answer, which made his smile widen. He gathered you in his arms and your lack of objection was all he needed to take you to your room and tucking you in bed. Even though you seemed to warm up he didn’t know how far he could push you, so kneeling beside the bed to be on your eye level he started:

“If you still need space I can-”

“Stay”

He smiled at you tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Okay”

He got up and kissed your forehead before slipping in beside you and pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter

"Shh, we'll talk about it tomorrow... but I'm sorry too"

You smile a little. You two will sort this out tomorrow.

Sylus

What Sylus says, goes around. His word is the law. This is what he’s used to. That's how it's always been.

Then you came into his life and even though he’s still in charge of how things go in the N109 zone, you just need to say the word and everything will be how you like it. No questions, no hesitation. He would give you the world if you so much as whispered the need. Whatever you want, whatever you need, he will make it happen.

Unless, when it comes to your safety. Now don’t get me wrong. Sylus knows you can defend yourself and then some. But when it comes to the N109 zone, there are things Sylus knows better than you. Additionally, The fact that you can be reckless in your battles does nothing to help ease his worries.

That was the reason for the heated argument tonight. Sylus with his harsh words and snarky remarks always finds a way to infuriate you. So you two go on and on for half an hour now and none of you seems to back down. You storm off to your room and take your things to get comfortable on the couch. However, on your way out Sylus blocks your way. He raises an eyebrow at the blanket and pillow in your arms.

“Now, what exactly do you think you are doing, sweetie?”

“move”

“I asked you a question”

“I’m not sleeping beside you- Sylus” you exclaim as he hoists you over his shoulder. you punch and scratch his back but to no avail.

“Careful with your claws, kitten”

He drops you on the bed climbing over you.

“Now listen, this is what will happen. You will stop acting like a wild kitten and sleep beside me. I am sorry for hurting you but we will discuss it tomorrow, when we are both a lot calmer. Understood?”

You don’t want to give in so easily. You also don’t want to sleep without him tonight. So you nod avoiding eye contact. He, however, doesn’t accept it and raises your chin with his finger to make you look at him.

“Use your words, sweetie”

“Yes”

“Splendid” He removed himself from you so you could get under the blanket. He laid beside you and pulled you closer so your head was resting on his chest.

"Sy... I'm sorry too"

"So I'm Sy now?"

This man.

"Nevermind, you're still a prick"

You try to remove his arm but he holds you tighter as he laughs.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, sweetie"

You felt him kiss the crown of your head as he caressed your shoulder with his thumb. you return to your previous position and listening to his heartbeat, sleep lured you in soon enough.

[i-like-loserz]

honey, baby

synopsis: san needs your attention

pairing: husband!san x afab!reader

warnings: SMUT (18+), jealousy, handjob, begging, teasing, sub!san, dacryphilia, pet-names, house-wife!reader, messy endings, light marking kink, reader does not get off..., not proof-read :0

word count: 2.5k

note: i'm sorry, we all need some sub!san in our lives... right...

masterlist

How delicate his hand is, adorned handsomely with understated rings, pressing gently against the small of your back as he leads you through the room. Artificial chatter, decorated with an occasional bout of posh laughter, settles finely above the jazz playing in the background. 

Your heels click softly against the marble flooring, each step lining up perfectly with his. 

Together, you’re a vision of excellence. 

San is the man that everyone wants. The definition of a gentleman. He’s charming, polite, and patient. But also unbelievably beautiful. He comes from a background of old money, but his legacy never stopped him from looking elsewhere for love.

Then there’s you. A woman who can blend into any crowd, disarming even the most stuck-up aristocrat with an easy smile. No one knows where you came from, but they don’t really care – or rather, they stopped caring once they realized how easily San would drop them for bothering you. 

The two of you act as the personification of refined love. 

Modest, refined, and lovely. Rarely sharing even a single kiss in front of an audience. 

San nods to a few guests as he passes them, politely acknowledging their existence, but never making a move to engage with them. He exudes this aura of cool confidence – as if every breath he takes is calculated and perfected. This way, no one ever questions his decisions or fights his whims…not like you anyway.

The wine glass in your hand has a bare sip of red left in it. The rim is spotted with the seductive print of your lips, reflecting the small tastes you took throughout the night to keep yourself relatively sober.

You would have gone for another but a heated whisper, pressed exquisitely against the edge of your ear, drew away any thoughts of humoring your husband’s guests. You settle it gently on a counter, no longer needing the prop of a hostess. 

San’s leading hand presses more insistently against back with each step he takes. His breaths grow deeper, his body draws closer. 

Usually, he’s able to wait until the party ends – watching you with dark eyes as you see the last of the crowd off, thanking them for visiting with that polite smile you’ve perfected. You’re so good to him, putting up with the lifestyle he was born into and taking the role of the perfect housewife and hostess that pays attention to every need her guests have.  

But now, San needs your attention to be directed at him. 

—

He broke while you were in the middle of a conversation with somebody’s plus one. And San knows he was a plus one because he didn’t recognize the man…or his name…or his “successful tech” company. 

He’s not usually a jealous man, but something about this guy…

San was sitting next to you, charming yet another investor of his father’s business, when he heard a low voice speaking to his beautiful wife, “Please, call me Yunho, Mr. Jeong is my father.” 

It peeved him.

You laughed politely, displaying your easy going nature by complying with his wish, repeating his first name before offering your own. San bristled at the sound of another man’s name coming from your lips. 

Who even is this guy? 

There were no Jeongs on the guestlist – and he would know, he’s the one who checks off on that stuff. This is a business party, not some get together that can be crashed so unpleasantly by an overnight millionaire like him.

The investor he was once trying to woo was getting pulled into a different conversation. And thank god for that. He wouldn’t have been much fun to talk to when he’s distracted like this anyway. 

San took that as an opportunity to turn his body toward yours. He watched intently as you continued your friendly interaction with a handsome stranger – who seems to be leaning closer with every pretty word you speak. 

You looked effortlessly beautiful as you rambled about the recent trip he took you on, excitedly describing your favorite restaurants with that familiar brightness in your eyes. He’s suddenly longing to hold your hand right then and there, to pull you onto his lap and nuzzle his face against the crook of your neck. 

His hand moved before he could think about it, gently brushing over your forearm to get your attention. When you turned to look at your husband, the man in front of you retreated from his slow shift into your space, suddenly uneasy by how San was staring him down. 

“Honey?”

At the sound of your voice, he shifted his attention from the offending man to you, the tension in his shoulders easing at the affectionate pet-name. San rounded his eyes innocently, softening his expression. 

“Baby…” He said timidly in a bare whisper, fully knowing that that name was strictly off-limits in public. You raise a questioning eyebrow, wondering what made your husband so needy all of the sudden.

“San.”

San leaned closer to you, a hand slowly shifting from the velvet couch to the top of your thigh. The guests continued to bustle around the two of you, unaware of the sudden tension settling between you. You let him push closer until his lips barely brush against ear.

“Pay attention to me…”

—

You’ve never left your own party early. You have actually trained yourself to have the same amount of energy greeting the guests as you do leading them out. The party doesn't end until you've seen everyone out.

So will anyone really notice a scant 15 minutes of your absence?

Well, you hope not. 

San couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. Instead, he pulled you into an oversized laundry room at the end of the hall, sliding the door shut before you could protest about being too close to the party.

“Sannie, wait.” 

Your words are lost to the air. 

He’s already pressing desperate, hot kisses against your throat. His broad body effectively pins you to the door as his hands, itching to undress you, drag over your soft curves covered by the fine fabric of your dress. Eager fingers grope over your tits before settling delicately around the base of your neck.

His suit jacket rests in a heap on the floor, leaving him in his unbuttoned vest and wrinkled dress shirt – a view you’d love to devour if not for the people who stand on the other side of the door. 

“Maybe we should stop –” 

“I can’t, I-I need you, baby.” He’s begging you – each word pathetically whined out from his pouty lips. “Need you close to me.”

“What if they notice that we’re both gone? What if they come looking?”

Pitiful moans are pressed onto your skin as he helplessly grasps at your body, scared that you’d leave him wanting and overwhelmed by his need to feel you against him.

At this point, San wouldn’t care if the whole party saw him fucking you against the dining table – least of all that Yunho guy. He doesn’t care if they can hear him whining for you, begging you to let him fill you up like he does every night. He wants to show you off, hold open your cum soaked thighs just to show them that you love him and he’s your good boy. 

But at the same time, letting anyone see you like that irks him like nothing else. You’re his and he’s yours.

“Please.” He implores, eyes glistening with a needy look. He gently takes your hand and leads it to where he needs you the most. You give in easily, pressing against his cock which strains against his perfectly tailored trousers. He’s already throbbing from the faint sensation of your touch. 

“Please…?” You tease under your breath, now fully gripping the shape of him through the layers of his clothes. He watches the way your hand moves over him with a dazed look, appreciating the way your small hand looks, fisting his clothed cock with glazed eyes.

You squeeze him abruptly, nudging him for an answer and he responds with a surprised whine, his hips jerking up against you from the intense sensation.  

“Please t-touch me.” 

“I am, baby.”

His dark eyebrows pinch in frustration, “You know what I mean.”

You hum understandingly, slowly unzipping his pants as you taunt him.

“You’re so needy…” 

He sighs as you pull down his briefs along with the restricting fabric of his pants. His thick cock slaps against his covered stomach, flushed prettily in a deep shade of pink, gently weeping pre-cum at the tip. Everything about San is pretty – especially the enamoured way he stares down at you with his signature pouty lips and flushed cheeks.

Eyes locked with his, you idly run a finger against his bare hip, so close to where he wants you to touch. He stutters out a shaky breath, his body shivering from the delicate sensation.

“K-kiss me.” He cups your jaw and moves impossibly closer to you. Your chest meets his as he holds you close, his hips pressing his hard cock against your body. He dips down to hover his soft lips over yours, “...Please.” He adds in a whisper – drenched in desperation. 

As if you could ever deny him.

“You’re cute…” You whisper back before pressing your lips onto his. 

You feel him immediately melt against you, his cock twitching eagerly against your stomach as he finally tastes you on his tongue. You hope he doesn't notice how you subtly rub your thighs together, an attempt to relieve the ache between them.

Your hands drift from resting on his chest to tangle in his hair, tugging gently at the ends, if only to hear that breathless whine that you adore. 

As you draw away for a breath, you notice a smear of red messily decorating his lips. He doesn’t seem to care though, looking down at a similar mess on your lips with a heated gaze.

You can tell that he’s imagining the same stain at the base of his cock. San has a thing for marks, especially because it’s you who’s leaving them. 

You lift up his dress shirt before pressing the palm of your hand against his aching erection, drawing a cute whimper from him. His stomach flexes from the sudden coolness of the air touching his heated skin.

Oh, how you want to lick over each defined ab, make him cry out from your teasing before biting into the firmness of his stupidly broad chest – but you don’t have time for that right now.

“Look at you,” You wrap your hand around him and slowly start to jerk him off, “almost about to cum from some kissing.” San bites his bottom lip to keep his moans down as your thumb repeatedly rubs over the edge of his sensitive tip. 

“C-can’t help it, you taste s-so good.” His hips thrust eagerly against your hand, cock generously leaking as he feels himself already approaching the edge.

Your wrist moves in quick, practiced motions, slick noises filling the space between you. You can't help but dip your other hand under his dress shirt, feeling up his perfect body with the edge of your nails to make him tremble.

“I'll let you taste more tonight if you cum for me like a good boy."

San nods eagerly, but you can tell by that hazy look in his eye that he'd agree to jump off from the second floor balcony if you asked him.

You can tell that he's getting close by the way he's bucking into your slippery fist, whines growing louder and more desperate. It almost looks like he's about to cry as he stares down at the way your hand is wrapped so perfectly around his throbbing cock.

“About to c-cum,” he pants, eyes glistening sweetly. "F-ffuck, baby… Y-you’re s-so good to me. Don’t want it to get on you, though, and ruin your pretty dress.”

"No?" You tease as you watch him struggle to move a mere inch away, hips still thrusting in want. How cute. His eyes squeeze shut at your honeyed tone, knowing you were going to make it harder for him to back away. "You don't want to see me covered in your pretty mess?"

"Nnghh~" You watch him scramble to hold off his orgasm, legs shaking as his hands grip your waist tightly to ground himself. "please -- !"

You finally let him make some space between you, finding it adorable that even in this state, he's worried about protecting you from the people outside.

You give him one last squeeze, fingers brushing over his dripping tip before whispering: "Okay, baby~ Cum for me."

And he does. Oh, how he makes a mess of himself.

His broad shoulders shake as he curls his body into himself, head dipped while spilling out the most pathetic breathy whines against the top of your shoulder.

His hips shake sporadically as each rope of cum covers your hand, dripping miraculously over his lap and onto his once perfectly-pressed pants. Somehow, he stayed true to his word. Not a drop touched your dress.

"Good boy..."

He groans as you milk him with a tight fist, body shuddering from the overstimulation. Your other hand soothes him, rubbing gently over his stomach as he moves through his high.

---

San's panting, leaning against the washing machine with a fucked-out look on his face. He pulled his briefs back on, opting to leave the pants unbuttoned and barely hanging onto his hips.

At this point, it would be better for him to change – his pants are stained with drops of cum, his shirt is wrinkled and stretched out, his hair has been fluffed into a mess. 

Maybe you should just tell everyone that he wasn’t feeling well…

You press a light peck to the side of his flushed neck before moving away from him in a hurry. You wash your hands in the small sink at the corner of the room and find a few tissues to take off your ruined lipstick and any residual sweat. 

You try to fix your hair to look decent – though there is no mirror to really check – and smooth out your dress. Thankfully, San only made a mess of himself (at least, visually). You were planning to slip into a bathroom on the way to the parlor anyway. 

“Ok, baby.” You throw the tissues away before turning back to your husband. His eyes are still half-lidded with lust, watching how easily you go back to being the refined woman from earlier this evening. “Clean yourself up, I’m going back out. I’ll tell them you’re feeling under the weather.” 

“You’re so beautiful.” His raspy voice is endearing. 

You feel your cheeks heating up at the compliment. You try to stamp it down, try to stay composed, but he always knows what to say to make you feel this way. 

“You are beautiful, baby.” You respond with a gentle smile, walking back to him to give him one last kiss. One turns into many. He shyly smiles back, his dimples deepening as you scatter more kisses around his face.

“Wish me luck out there.” You whisper, running your fingers through his hair to reduce the fluffiness. 

“Come back to me soon, okay?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

[quarterlifekitty]

hii

can I ask for more scent kink soap? ugh just something about that nasty nasty man GETS me.

So first of all this is inspired by this post that I’m fucking obsessed with so. Omegaverse be upon ye

Freak Soap who finds a pair of used panties on the floor of the communal laundry room in his flat building. So, like the animal he is, he lifts it to his face to sniff.

And like. He’s never really believed in being able to smell someone and just know that they’re a perfect match. Like, that’s nonsense. But right now? If he had a tail it’d be thumping. Like, he whines when he pushes the gusset of your panties right up to his nose, that’s how amazing it smells to him.

He ends up waiting in the laundry room all night to see if the owner will show. No luck. Sulks back to his flat, keeps the panties bunched up in his face while he fists his cock more than a few times.

Every so often he’ll catch little whiffs of it. It’s actually a very subtle scent— it’s probably why he’s never noticed, not till it was concentrated in that slick-soaked fabric. Sort of like how there are some things you’d never find unless you already knew what they looked like. People tell all kinds of stories about scents. That their mates smelled of bergamot and lemongrass, teakwood and honeycomb candy, peppermint and vanilla— all sorts of bath and bodyworks style shite. God knows he’s heard the word petrichor enough for one lifetime.

Gaz told Soap that he smelled like salt and single malt whiskey. Also dirt, but they all smelled like dirt at the time.

This scent was fascinatingly, infuriatingly simple and yet it smelled like the embodiment of home, of comfort—

You smelled like wheat. Warm wheat. It wasn’t spicy, herbaceous, sweet, earthy. Just… wheat.

At the front door of the building. By the mail boxes. In the laundry room. Sometimes, in a cruel twist of fate— right by his own front door. Always weak— just traces. Never accompanied by the wearer. His unpredictable schedule of deployments and leave just make it harder to try to track.

Until one day he comes back. Long bloody mission, dragged through mud, run ragged. Just barely able to scrape through to the finish line before his rut started, thank god. And yet, he’s dreading it. That pair of panties has basically all but lost any traces of you, he’s had it and held it in desperation for so long.

When the lift door opens, he can feel his spine straighten in alert. Wheat. Abundant. Fertile. You’re so close, and so close to a heat.

He drops his duffel by his door as he loses the battle to think of anything but stuffing his knot in a soft, hot cunt. His cock is already painfully hard as the rut claws and pricks at his synapses, coiled and at the ready. But he doesn’t have to travel far.

The door across the hall from his.

He gets low to the ground, like he’s trying to squeeze himself under the door— trying to get closer and closer to the scent.

Knocking, introducing himself, and acting like a human being is far from the forefront of his mind. His first instinct is to jiggle the handle of the door, growling when he finds it locked.

His second instinct is to dig the picking tools from his duffle.

[moechies]

:¨ ·.· ¨: ୨୧ somno w toji

somno with toji never works :( he’s simply too big, and any part of him inside of you would wake you up in an instant, no matter how deep of a sleeper you are.

you proved this true the one time toji came home later than normal from a weighted job, scruffy and worn. yearning for some love from his dearest, cutest wife, jittery at the thought of your sweet lips against his own, and your soft skin pliant against his.

although worried, you had put yourself to sleep on the couch outside of your guy’s bedroom, a plated meal warmed and covered in a wrap for his hoped upon arrival. upon staggering upon the doorstep, fidgeting the key into the hole to get the lock open, he’s greeted by the soft, warm atmosphere of what hes able to call home.

his eyes set on your pliant body sprawled across the couch, body sunk into the soft pillows beneath you. your snoozy face on display due to you laid on your side, and a little knit blanket limps across your tummy. you’re wearing one of his over-sized shirts with a thin pair of panties, delicate lace and a strung bow that details the rim of it.

although originally admiring your soft body laying so peacefully, he can’t help the way his eyes divert to the sight of your chubby cunt, hugged so snugly by the crotch of your panties.

it’s adorable, honestly.

he makes his way towards you with ill intentions, dropping his belongings as he strides towards you.

soft snores reverberate through your body, paying no mind to the huge man mounting you from the side. he curses himself silently when all he can imagine is a sweet imagine of your is your fucked our face imprinted in his head, cute drooly mouth and crystalline tears painting your cute cheeks. his ears ring with your little mewls and cries of his name, little hand grappling at his much larger bicep trying your best to ask for a kiss.

he feels his cock ache and throb against your warm thigh as his mind surpasses all of these perfect moments, wasting no time before tugging at the silk embellishment of a belt, shimmying off his pants and discarding them on the ground. he hoists your soft leg onto his shoulder, shirt lifting along side it allowing him an open view to your perfect cunt, and your perfect slit. he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

although racked with guilt, head pulsing with anger at his poor self control, he can’t help but replay certain moments in his head; where you’d beg him to use you, conscious or not.

with honeydew tears rolling down your face, desperately holding the man impossibly close, mewling in his ear, ‘use me, use me, use me !” and all you ask in return is a sweet kiss on the lips. he chuckles at the thought, you, who others assume to be such a dear, gentle as a fawn, cute as a doe, the most innocent of all, compared to the version of you only toji knows. he’s utterly blessed.

his mind acts as a record, one that doesn’t stop playing, one which each and every film is of your sweet, sweet self. he’s not long into his fantasy before he finds himself mindlessly humping against your clad pussy, a thick layer of slick beginning to form from the simulation.

he lets out a mere laugh, tugging the crotch aside to be met with the prettiest sight of your worked up cunny. the sheen coat of arousal does nothing but highlight your pearly clit, and milky hole, all ready to take your favorite. your breath has labored, eyes squeezed tight, and cheeks flushed with a light rose, outcries for your dearest lover; ‘toji, toji, daddy— d . . daddy,’

his pride can’t help but swell at cute commentary unconsciously slipping from your lips; to know that even in you’re sleep, you were dreaming of him.

as his hand holds your panties aside, the other tugs his cock out from the confinements of his boxers, dragging the sloppy tip against your slit. he watches the two textures of arousal mix against eachother, his creamier pre blend into your clear slick. he can almost feel himself staring at the mess through heart-shaped lenses, obsessed with how your hole pulses around his mere cock head.

he feels your body twitch against his, leg shivering lightly, as you huff. much as if you had been awake, other than your usual whining and rushing, tugging at his much larger hips to hurry.

he finally lands above your hole, pressing lightly against the wet flesh, assuming he’s being diligent with his movements in order not to wake you. he watches as your soft cunt swallows his pudgy cock head as if it’s a right, fat lips hugging his cock head tight.

his technique doesn’t work too well.

his mere tip sits comfortably inside you when he hears you whimper loudly at his initial movement, eyelashes fluttering as you wake yourself with heavy pants. your leg attempts to retract, but he keeps a easy grip in order to keep you still. your cries grow louder, completely oblivious as to what’s happening around you in your woozy state. you flinch at the scarred hand that lays against the soft skin of your face,

“it’s jus’ me, honey. don’t fret.” toji comforts, smiling at the way your head turns to face his, brows furrowing in confusion.

“o . . owie—“ you react regarding his cock head protruding your cunny from below, “t-toji,” your hand grips at his fingers weakly, slowly adjusting to the ‘foreign’ feeling of his cock.

“mhm.. that’s right, darling girl. y’slept well?” you shake your head quickly, pouting up at the man above you. he tilts his head to the side, anticipating your explanation.

“ ‘s ‘cause you w-weren’t home. m-missed y’so much, toji.” you sniffle, tugging his arm in order to pull him closer.

“oh, poor baby.” he replies solemnly, reaching down to press a loving kiss onto your forehead. you feel him nudge himself deeper, squeaking at the unprepped stretch.

“heh.. missed you so much too, doll. y’know that?” he cups the side of your face, shallow and short thrusts of his cock. more than enough to get him off perfectly. you nod your head rapidly with shut eyes, fists clenched into little balls against your chest at the overwhelming simulation.

“y’r doin’ s’good. ‘s almost over doll, t-then i’ll put ya to sleep.”

“w-wait hnn— m gonna cum !”

he snickers at your meek whines, teasing you slightly,

“already? this pussy’s so sensitive, sweet doll.”

he knows it’s the mixture of you barely conscious, added onto the intense simulation of his cock pounding against your gummy walls over and over, but he loves the little helpless glare you shoot him, silently begging him to let you cum.

“please, please—“

“shh darlin,’ no need to beg. cum, cum f’me, doll.”

and with a couple deep strokes, his cock overwhelmed by the way your cunt pulses and squeezes around him, he cums a potent load into the depths of your womb.

he jets a milky and viscous stream of thick cum into you, seemingly never ending as he slowly rides out his high by lazily humping into your spent cunt.

his eyes can’t help but pace back and forth from your lewd expressions to the creamy mess below, watching his load spread across your chubby folds and dirty the inside of your thighs.

sweet whispers of ‘love you, love you,’ fall from the lips of the man, pressing wet kisses all over your face. you nuzzle against his face, kissing down his jaw, entertaining his needy behavior that you surely wouldn’t see for a while.

[woniedarlin]

XO,I'm Yours

pairing: Jungwon x fem! Reader

genre: XO, Kitty au

synopsis: Having a massive crush on Jungwon is tough. Every time he’s around, your brain malfunctions, and instead of acting normal, you… avoid him. He’s calm, chill, and entirely out of your league (at least, that’s what you tell yourself). Enter Kitty, the matchmaker, determined to make things happen. With her “help,” you find yourself in the most awkward yet heart-racing moments with Jungwon.

The worst part? Jungwon is noticing you now. And it’s making everything so much more complicated. But maybe… Kitty’s plan wasn’t so bad after all.

author's note: This was requested by @firstclassjaylee . Thank you for this idea!!! Please let me know the pronouns for the og XO Kitty characters! I wasn’t sure, so if I got them wrong, I’d happily change them immediately. Apologies in advance for not being able to mention all the characters. Happy reading!

caution: This fic contains extreme secondhand embarrassment and an excessive amount of Jungwon-induced butterflies. Read at your own risk!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

The plan was simple. Avoid Jungwon at all costs.

It wasn’t that he was mean. That was the problem. Jungwon was nice. The kind of nice that made your stomach do flips and made you feel like an idiot for getting so flustered over someone just existing. So, instead of embarrassing yourself, you settled for admiring him from afar. No eye contact. No unnecessary conversations. Easy.

At least, it was easy...until Kitty found out.

“You have a massive crush on him,” Kitty said one afternoon with her arms crossed.

“No, I don’t.” You knew lying was pointless, but still, you had to try.

Kitty gave you a look. “You walked into a door last week because he was standing near it.”

Your face burned. “That was an accident.”

“Sure,” she said unimpressed. “Look, lucky for you, I happen to be amazing at matchmaking. And I happen to have a plan.”

You blinked. “A plan?”

“Step one: Stop avoiding him.”

You immediately shook your head. “Absolutely not.”

“Too bad because I already started.”

Your stomach dropped. “Kitty. What did you do?”

She just grinned. “You’ll see.”

And just like that, your quiet little crush? It was about to become very complicated.

💌

You should have known Kitty wouldn’t waste any time. The very next day, you find yourself in an unavoidable situation.

It started in the Library. You had just settled in your usual corner, buried in a book, when Kitty slid into the seat across from you.

“What are you—”

“Shh.” She put a finger to her lips. “Just act natural.”

That’s when you saw him.

Jungwon.

He was scanning the shelves a few feet away, oblivious to how your entire body tensed at seeing him. Your brain screamed at you to run, but before you could, Kitty leaned in and whispered, “I told him you needed help with your econ homework.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You did what?”

And right on cue, Jungwon turned, eyes landing on you.

“Hey,” he said as he was walking over.

Kitty beamed. “Perfect timing! She was saying how she’s completely lost in econ.”

You snapped your head toward her. Liar. You were literally top of the class.

Jungwon pulled out the chair beside you and sat down without hesitation. “I can help.”

You swallowed. Oh no.

Kitty’s grin was way too smug. “Great! I’ll leave you two to it.” Then, before you could protest, she was gone.

Leaving you. Alone. With Jungwon.

You looked down at your phone, noticing a message from Kitty

“You’re welcome ;)’’

💌

You tried to focus on Jungwon's explanation for the first few minutes. Really, you did.

But how were you supposed to concentrate when he was sitting this close?

He leaned over the table, pointing at your textbook, his voice steady as he explained some economic theory. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but in reality, your brain was short-circuiting.

“Does that make sense?” he asked, turning to look at you.

You blinked. “Huh?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

Your face heated. “I was! Kind of. Maybe.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re bad at lying.”

You groaned, then covered your face. “This is embarrassing.”

“Why?” He tilted his head. “It’s just me.”

Exactly.

It was just him. Just Jungwon, who you had spent months avoiding because he made you feel like a walking disaster. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed amused.

“I don’t bite, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to be scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” you blurted out.

He smirked. “So you’ve just been avoiding me for fun?”

You clamped your mouth shut.

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, watching you with a knowing look. “Huh.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” His smirk deepened. “You’re interesting.”

Your stomach did a backflip.

Oh, you were so doomed.

Later that night, Kitty found you in your dorm room, looking too pleased with herself.

“So?” she asked, flopping onto your bed. “How did it go?”

You groaned. “I made a fool of myself.”

Kitty laughed. “Define ‘fool.’”

“I blanked out. He caught me staring. I admitted to avoiding him. And he called me interesting.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait. He called you interesting?”

You nodded miserably.

Kitty squealed. “That’s huge!”

You frowned. “How is that huge?”

“Because Jungwon doesn’t just call people interesting, my dear hopeless friend. You caught his attention.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You think?”

“I know.” Kitty grinned. “And trust me, this is only the beginning.”

You groaned again, flopping face-first onto your pillow.

Kitty just laughed.

After all, the matchmaking had only just begun.

💌

“Okay,” Kitty clapped her hands, grinning as she stared at you. “Today’s the day we level you up.”

You blinked and were confused. “Level me up?”

“Yes! You like Jungwon, but you get all shy and awkward around him,” she pointed out. “So, if you want him to notice you, we must work on your confidence.”

You groaned, already feeling embarrassed. “Kitty, this is so unnecessary.”

Kitty ignored you and stepped forward. “First lesson: Posture! Stand straight, shoulders back. Confidence comes from the way you carry yourself.”

You hesitated before adjusting yourself, trying to mimic the way she stood. “Like this?”

Kitty nodded. “Good. Now, when you see Jungwon, don’t look away all nervous. Hold eye contact. Make him feel like he’s the only person in the room.”

You gulped. “The only person in the room? Kitty, I can’t even look at him for three seconds without feeling like I’m about to pass out.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly why we’re practicing! Here, pretend I’m Jungwon.”

You stared at her. “Kitty, this is weird.”

“Do it!” she urged.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly raised your head, looking her in the eyes. You managed to hold it for two seconds before covering your face. “Nope. I can’t do this.”

Kitty groaned dramatically. “Okay, let’s try something else. Flirting! Sometimes, a little playful teasing can go a long way.”

You hesitated. “Like… what kind of teasing?”

Kitty smirked. “Try complimenting him, but make it sound casual. Like, ‘Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.’”

You cringed. “That doesn’t sound casual at all.”

“It’s all about the tone!” Kitty explained. “Say it naturally, like you’re just making an observation.”

You sighed and cleared your throat, trying to sound confident. “Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.”

Kitty immediately burst into laughter. “Why do you sound like a robot?”

You groaned and covered your face again. “I told you I’m bad at this!”

She patted your shoulder. “Okay, okay. Let’s try something easier…Oh! What about smiling? When you see him, could you give him a little smile? Not too big, not too small. Just a hint of a smile.”

You nodded and tried it. Kitty examined you for a second before shaking her head. “No. That looks scary.”

“Kitty!!”

“Okay, okay! Let’s just—oh wait, Jungwon’s coming!” Kitty suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

Your eyes widened in pure panic. “WHAT?!”

“Relax! Just do what we practiced!” she whispered urgently.

Jungwon walked past, glancing at the two of you. You froze utterly, your mind going blank. Then, at the last second, you remembered Kitty’s advice. You quickly straightened your posture and gave him a small smile… except you accidentally bared your teeth like an awkward grimace instead of a confident smile.

Jungwon slowed down slightly, his brows furrowing. “Uh… are you okay?”

‘’Pfft’’ Kitty covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.

You, wholly mortified, quickly turned away. “Yes! Totally fine! Just… stretching my face!”

Jungwon blinked, clearly confused, before nodding slowly and walking off.

The moment he was out of sight, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kitty, I hate this.”

Kitty finally burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t your best moment, but hey! At least you tried!”

“I just embarrassed myself,” you muttered.

Kitty grinned. “Relax. Slow and steady wins the race. You’ll get there.”

You sighed, not entirely convinced, but Kitty’s encouragement made you feel slightly better. Maybe with time—and much more practice—you’d finally get the confidence you needed.

…Hopefully, before you died of embarrassment first.

💌

After your absolute disaster of a confidence practice session with Kitty, you decided there was only one solution.

Avoid Jungwon.

At all costs.

Your already massive crush on him had now turned into full-blown mortification. Every time you so much as thought about how you awkwardly bared your teeth at him, you wanted to disappear into the earth. So, naturally, when you spotted Jungwon walking down the hallway, you did what any logical person would do.

You grabbed the nearest person and used them as a human shield.

“Minho,” you hissed, ducking behind his tall frame.

Minho barely flinched while sipping on his collagen water. “Oi, what’s this then?” he drawled,

You gripped his shoulders. “I need to hide.”

Minho sighed, already used to your antics. “Lemme guess—Jungwon?”

You nodded frantically.

Minho shook his head but didn’t move. “You know, mate, you can’t keep running forever.”

“Yes, I can,” you whispered.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

“Minho,” Jungwon’s voice suddenly called out, catching your breath.

You peeked over Minho’s shoulder just in time to see Jungwon stopping before him, looking too good for your heart to handle.

Minho, unfazed, nodded in greeting. “Aye, mate. What’s up?”

Jungwon started talking to Minho about something you were too distracted to process. Because while he was addressing Minho, his eyes kept peeking over Minho’s shoulder—straight at you.

You immediately shrank further behind Minho.

Jungwon’s lips twitched slightly. “Hey,” he said, this time directed at you.

Your brain is short-circuited. Oh no. He’s talking to me. Abort mission. Abort mission.

Minho, ever the instigator, casually stepped to the side, exposing you completely.

You had no choice but to face Jungwon. “H-Hi,” you managed weakly.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly. “Are you hiding from me?”

“What? No! Pfft, that’s crazy,” you blurted out and laughed nervously.

Minho smirked and sipped his collagen water. “Yeah, mate, totally crazy.”

You kicked the back of Minho’s shoe.

Jungwon didn’t look entirely convinced but let it slide. “Alright,” he said before flicking his gaze back to Minho.

You thought you were in the clear—until you noticed that Jungwon kept glancing at you even as he continued his conversation with Minho. Every few seconds, his eyes would shift back to you.

It was subtle, but it was enough to make your stomach flip.

Then, as Minho made some joke in his relaxed drawl, Jungwon suddenly interrupted, his eyes locking on yours. “You don’t have to hide, you know,” he said softly.

Your heart stopped.

After thoroughly enjoying the situation, Minho took a long sip of his drink. “Oi, look at that, would ya? Some real tension here.”

You kicked him again.

Jungwon only smiled slightly before looking away as if he hadn’t just destroyed your ability to function.

And just like that, your plan to avoid him had backfired entirely.

You were so doomed.

💌

The sound of typing and the flick of pages turning was the soundtrack of your days lately. You had been buried in textbooks for what felt like forever. The stress had accumulated, leaving you exhausted. Your face was pale, and dark bags were under your eyes from the sleepless nights, but you couldn’t stop. You had to push through. A vast project was coming up, and you couldn’t afford to fail.

You propped your head up with one hand, barely able to keep your eyes open as you glanced over your notes. The words blurred, your mind already foggy from overworking. Before you knew it, your head dropped onto the table with a soft thud.

“Ugh…,” you mumbled as you fought to stay awake.

The door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of footsteps entering. Kitty’s voice followed soon after. “Hey, are you still at it?”

Jungwon’s calm tone responded, “She’s been studying for hours now. I don’t think she’s taking breaks.”

You groaned, too tired to even lift your head. The sounds of them approaching grew closer until you felt the soft pressure of someone standing beside you. You sighed and tried to sit up, but the weight of your exhaustion made it hard.

As you lifted your head, you saw Kitty’s shocked expression first. She gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh! You look like you haven’t slept in days! Your face… it’s—”

You blinked slowly, too tired to defend yourself. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, attempting to give a smile, but it came out weak and crooked.

Kitty’s eyes softened with concern. “You need to take a break. Look at those bags under your eyes. Are you even eating right?”

Before you could reply, you heard Jungwon’s voice. “There’s nothing wrong with your face,” he said unbothered. He bent down to your level. “You’re still pretty, even with all that stress.”

The compliment caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but blush despite how exhausted you were. “W-well, thank you…” you stammered, a little embarrassed.

Kitty rolled her eyes playfully. “See, Jungwon knows what to say! But seriously, you need to rest.” She crossed her arms, and her frown replaced her concern. “This is way too much. You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate.”

Jungwon nodded slightly. “Kitty’s right. You won’t get far if you can’t even stay awake.”

You sighed, both too tired and too embarrassed to argue. “I… I need to finish this.”

Kitty leaned closer and whispered as if sharing a secret, “How about I help you get this done faster? You can relax, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

You blinked slowly, still too drained to think straight. “Are you sure?”

She smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. You need to close your eyes for a bit.”

Jungwon shot you a small and reassuring smile. “Take a break, okay? You don’t want to make yourself sick over this.”

You hesitated momentarily before nodding, grateful for their support even if you still felt guilty. You slid down in your chair, resting your head against the backrest and briefly closing your eyes.

Kitty moved to your side, pulling out her phone to check her messages. Jungwon stayed silent nearby, giving you an almost protective glance as you rested.

“Good. Now, take a nap. No more studying for the rest of the day,” Kitty said with a smile as she gave you the space to rest.

You breathed a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, hoping the rest would help ease the weight of the world you’d been carrying.

💌

You sat quietly on a chair, Minho beside you, applying your skincare. He had been your skincare mentor for a while, helping you with all the little tricks you needed. “Alright, make sure you really press it in,” Minho said, gently patting the moisturizer into your skin.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever do it as well as you,” you murmured. “But thanks for teaching me.”

Minho smiled. “Of course. You’re a fast learner,” he said, dabbing the cream across your cheek. “Maybe you should start your skincare vlog or something.”

You chuckled softly, “I’d probably mess it up on camera.”

Minho shook his head and let out a grin. “You’d be perfect. Trust me.”

You both laughed; the room felt safe. There was no pressure, no expectations, just good company. Then the door creaked open, and you looked up. Jungwon stepped in, looking casual, but something about his presence made the atmosphere feel different…tense, almost.

Minho waved at him, still oblivious to the sudden shift. “Hey, Jungwon! Just helping out with her skincare. You should join us.”

You froze for a moment, catching Jungwon’s eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly looked away, too shy to hold his eyes for long.

Jungwon’s lips twitched in an almost a frown. “I’m good,” he said; his eyes were focused on you and Minho, how you both were laughing and talking comfortably.

Minho, clearly unaware of the undercurrent between the three of you, laughed again. “You sure? I think I’m pretty much a skincare pro now.” He gently patted your cheek again, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.

You noticed Jungwon kept looking at your face, then back to Minho’s hand. There was a slight tension in his posture now. His arms were still crossed, and his eyes had narrowed just a little. “I think she’s got it covered,” Jungwon’s voice a little colder. “You’re always helping her with something.”

You looked down, trying to avoid his gaze as his words were uncomfortably in the air. Your heart beat faster than usual, and you were too shy to respond. Why was it that whenever Jungwon was around, you lost all ability to act normal?

Minho didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “What can I say? I’m just a helpful guy,” he replied with a wink.

Jungwon’s eyes flickered between the two of you. He uncrossed his arms and took a step closer. “Well, maybe she doesn’t need that much help,” he said, a little irritated. His tone wasn’t even harsh.

You flinched slightly, but you didn’t say anything. You just sat there, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

Minho noticed the shift. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop making her feel like a project,” he teased, though it was clear he was a little confused by Jungwon’s sudden change in attitude. “I was just trying to be helpful.”

You bit your lip, feeling the awkward silence settle over the room. Jungwon didn’t respond immediately; they just looked at you for a beat longer than necessary. Then he exhaled and glanced at the door. “You should probably get some rest,” Jungwon said softer now. “It’s late.”

You nodded quickly. Unsure of what to say. “Right, I’ll—uh, I’ll head to bed.”

Minho, still oblivious, smiled. “Get some sleep. We’ll finish up tomorrow.”

You nodded again, glancing briefly at Jungwon as you left. Jungwon’s voice stopped you before you could walk out. “You’re… you’re fine, right?”

The question caught you off guard. You hesitated. “I’m fine,” you replied quietly while avoiding his gaze.

He nodded, then gave you an unreadable smile. “Okay,” he said before turning back to Minho.

You walked out of the room quickly,

Was that… jealousy?

That’s impossible.

💌

“You have to wear this,” Kitty declared, holding up a dress that made your stomach tense.

“Kitty, no.”

“Kitty, yes.”

You glared at her through the mirror, but she just grinned as she shoved the outfit into your hands. “Trust me,” she said. “Jungwon won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

You swallowed hard at the thought. Jungwon. Seeing you. In this.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t dressed up before, but this outfit felt… different. More intentional. It's more like you were trying to get his attention.

Which, okay, you were, but still—

Kitty snapped her fingers in front of your face. “No overthinking! Just wear it. Come on, it’s a party! You’re supposed to look hot.”

You groaned but ultimately let her win (not that you ever had a choice).

By the time you were ready, you were nervous to the point that you needed to go to the restroom for a second. Your reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. Kitty had curled your hair and given you subtle but effective makeup; the outfit made you feel… good.

“You look amazing,” Kitty whispered and squeezed your shoulders. “Now go show Jungwon what he’s missing.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. You felt a little bit braver as you followed her out.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. You weren’t even inside for a full minute before you felt the weight of someone’s eyes on you.

And when you turned—

There he was.

Jungwon.

Standing across the room, eyes locked on you with a similar unreadable expression on his face. For a moment, neither of you moved. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was how his eyes slowly traveled over you before he looked away.

Kitty, standing beside you, definitely noticed.

“Oh,” she whispered and nudged you with her elbow. “He so noticed.”

You felt your face heat up.

Jungwon, however, had turned away, disappearing into the crowd before you could react.

The party was energetic, but you barely registered anything. Kitty had practically forced you into this dress, hyping you up, fixing your hair, and making you promise you wouldn’t shrink away if Jungwon talked to you.

But here he was—talking to you—and you were about two seconds from running.

“You look different.”

You looked up at him with your fingers gripping your cup tighter.

“What?”

His gaze was enough to make you feel self-conscious.

“You don’t usually dress like this,” he said.

You swallowed. “Oh. Yeah. Kitty—”

“Makes sense.”

Your brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

Jungwon took a sip of his drink and then met your gaze again.

“It means you look pretty.”

If that makes sense, your brain wholly short-circuited, and you felt like your stomach was twisting again.

You needed to escape.

But the second you tried to move, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t run away,” Jungwon said softly.

You froze.

His grip wasn’t tight or forceful—just enough to hold you there, to make you look at him.

“You always do that,” he murmured.

Your throat went dry.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly, “You’re always avoiding me,” he continued, “but then you’re always looking.”

Your breath hitched.

Jungwon let out a chuckle. Then, most casually, like he wasn’t wholly messing with your heart, he said—

“You don’t have to run. I don’t mind if you stay.”

You weren’t used to this—at least not with him.

“Hey,” Jungwon’s voice was quiet, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You were processing his words slowly. You had been avoiding him for so long, not because you didn’t like him, but because the thought of being close to him made your heart skip beats. And now, here he was, standing so close,

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze anywhere but him. The more you looked at him, the more your stomach flipped.

Jungwon’s hand fell to his side. He gave you a little space, but not enough to make you feel like he was giving up. You could tell that he wasn’t the type to give up easily. “I didn’t mean to crowd you,” he continued, understanding. “I… wanted to hang out, y’know?”

You nodded slowly, still unsure how to move past the awkward tension that had settled between you two. It was strange, feeling so seen yet so exposed. “Okay.” You took a deep breath. “I… I’m not good with all of this yet.”

Jungwon smiled at that. He didn’t push, didn’t pressure. Instead, he took a small step back, keeping a respectful distance but maintaining that comforting presence. “I get it,” he said. “But if you ever want to talk or hang out, I’m here. No rush.” He let the words hang in the air. He is willing to wait until you are ready.

You finally allowed your eyes to meet his, “Thanks,” you whispered, feeling a warmth in your chest that wasn’t just from the proximity but from the simple kindness he showed you. He wasn’t asking for more than your comfort, making everything more manageable.

“You know,” Jungwon added, “you don’t have to hide behind Minho all the time.”

You stiffened at that, but he didn’t look at you teasingly. He was stating a fact.

Your heart fluttered.

“Well, he’s taller than me,” you mumbled, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

Jungwon chuckled.

And for once, the thought of being close to Jungwon didn’t make your heart race in fear. It made it race in something else.

Something a little more hopeful.

💌

The group had decided to take a little break from basically everything that happened, and everyone was now scattered across the dorm’s common area. Kitty and Minho were sitting on the couch, though something was different. Minho had his arm casually draped over the back of the sofa, and Kitty leaned slightly toward him, her attention entirely on whatever they were discussing.

You couldn’t help but watch, caught up in the dynamic between them. It was so apparent that they were getting close. Too close, really. You glanced at them for a few seconds longer than you probably should have, a little uncomfortable with how natural they looked together, especially considering the little tension between them.

You shook your head and sighed. “Those two should just get together already,” you muttered. “It’s painful to watch.” You didn’t even realize you had said it aloud until Jungwon, standing nearby, chuckled softly.

“You seem to be invested in their situation. ”

You froze and blushed immediately. “What? No! I—” You stammered. “It’s awkward, you know? With everything going on with Yuri and all that. It’d be easier if they just figured it out.”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Sounds like you’re a little too invested,” his smirk growing.

You looked away quickly. “I’m not. I think… it’s obvious, don’t you think?”

Jungwon leaned back. “Hm. Interesting. You know, Kitty might take that as a challenge. She likes playing matchmaker.” He paused, glancing at the two on the couch before returning to you. “But then again, maybe it’s you who should be matched with someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you shot a look at him, trying to keep your cool. “What are you talking about?” You weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever joke or comment he was about to make.

With a shrug. “I don’t know… It’d be painful to watch you and me, right?”

You were trying to make sense of his words. Was he joking? Was he serious?

Before you could respond, Jungwon gave you a playful smile. “Well, maybe not. We’re not so bad, right?” His eyes seemed to challenge you to call him out on it.

You couldn’t stop the nervous laugh that escaped your lips. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” you said quickly. Your thoughts felt muddled, and your stomach flipped in a way you weren’t quite ready to admit.

Jungwon leaned closer just a little. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s happening between you and… well, someone, someday.”

The way he said that last part made your heart flutter, and before you could think too much about it, you quickly stood up, awkwardly brushing past him to talk to Dae. You couldn’t handle being near him anymore, not with his strange comment.

💌

It had been one of those nights where everything felt like it was building up to something. The group had decided to sneak out, and of course, Kitty had the whole thing planned out. Again. She was determined to get you and Jungwon alone for a little confession moment, even if it meant dragging everyone else into a mini adventure. The plan was simple: sneak out to the park for a midnight stroll.

The group managed to sneak out without much trouble, or so they thought. Kitty was already ahead, while Minho, Q, Dae, and Yuri followed, all too eager to escape their studies. You padded behind them. But suddenly, just as you were about to turn the corner toward the door, you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

“Someone’s coming!” you hissed and panic started rising in your chest. You froze, unsure of what to do, until a pair of warm hands quickly grabbed you from behind, pulling you into the nearest room and closing the door softly.

You looked up to see Jungwon standing there. His gaze was serious momentarily before it softened into that usual mischievous smile. “Close call,” he whispered.

You sighed in relief but your heart was still pounding from the adrenaline. “I didn’t think it would be this hard to sneak out,” you muttered.

Jungwon stepped closer, and the space between you grew smaller. “Kitty really knows how to get us into trouble, doesn’t she?” he smiled gently.

You laughed nervously. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. I don’t know how she does it.” You couldn’t help but glance down. “I should probably—” you began to mumble but Jungwon interrupted you

“You don’t have to run away this time,” he murmured and you felt his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “You can stay with me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the words, and before you could even process their whole meaning, Jungwon leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most gentle kiss you’d ever experienced. The world seemed to stop for a moment.

You stood there, frozen, your eyes wide in shock as Jungwon pulled back slightly, but only enough to look at you with a tender look, “You were going to say something, right?” Jungwon whispered

You were unable to form words. You couldn’t find anything to say except for the obvious truth that had been sitting in your chest for so long. “I… I’ve liked you for a while,” you finally admitted in a whisper. “I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t think you’d… feel the same.”

Jungwon smiled and leaned his forehead against yours. “I feel the same,” he said softly. “I’ve been trying to find the right moment to tell you… but I guess this is as good a time as any.”

You smiled as you leaned into him, both chuckling in silence. For the first time, it felt like the weight had been lifted, and everything had finally fallen into place.

💌

The next day, you and Jungwon walked through campus hand in hand. You didn’t care about the curious glances or whispers around you. Everything felt so natural now. Jungwon’s thumb gently brushed against your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small but significant change in your relationship.

As you turned the corner, you spotted Kitty and Q sitting at their usual spot by the fountain. They looked up at you two simultaneously, eyes widening in shock as they saw your hands intertwined. Kitty’s face immediately broke into a smile, while Q’s jaw dropped slightly. “Oh my god!” Kitty squealed with her voice a few octaves higher than usual as she stood up quickly. “It’s official! You two are—?”

You giggled and nodded. “Yep, it’s real. Took us a while, but we finally figured it out.”

Q was still in shock and blinked a few times before recovering. “Wait, is this the part where you two act all coy about it?” he teased.

Jungwon chuckled and shrugged slightly as he looked down at you with an affectionate gaze. “Guess so,” he said casually. “But it feels good. Finally.”

Kitty, her excitement never waning, jumped up and clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect for each other. I mean, come on, how could you not be?”

You smiled as you felt a little shy under all their attention. “Yeah, well, it’s thanks to Kitty here,” you said, turning toward her with a grateful look. “She practically forced us to get our act together.”

Kitty just shrugged. “Hey, someone had to step in. You two were taking forever.”

You then decided to have a little fun with Q. Turning to him with a smirk; you said, “Oh, and by the way, Q, now that we’re all on the same page… maybe it’s time you and Jin finally get together.”

Kitty gasped, and Q’s face immediately turned beet red. “I—what? No! That’s—no!” he sputtered

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’ve noticed that too. You and Jin make a good pair,” he said honestly.

Q looked like he was about to explode, “I hate him!” he said. “You better not tell Jin I said that.”

You chuckled at his reaction. “Oh, don’t worry. We won’t say a thing… for now.”

Still practically bouncing with excitement, Kitty turned to Jungwon with a warm smile. “Okay, I’ll take the credit for this one,” she said with a wink. “But I’m happy you two finally figured it out.”

Jungwon gave Kitty a genuine look, squeezing your hand as he thanked her. “Honestly, thank you, Kitty. You really did help us get here.”

Kitty’s face softened and she laughed lightly. “Of course! I’m just happy to see you two so happy together.”

At that moment, everything felt perfect. You were with Jungwon and were surrounded by friends who were happy for you. It felt like the start of something new and beautiful, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for everything that had led up to this moment. “Alright, alright,” you said, leaning into Jungwon as you all settled back down to enjoy the rest of the day. “Let’s just say that Kitty’s matchmaking skills are unmatched.”

Kitty shot you a wink. “Told you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was finally falling into place.

[void-my-warranty]

TW: ED behavior

You’re driving Ghost crazy, and not in a good way.

He thought you were close, he thought he could trust you. Yet ever since you moved in with him, you’ve been keeping secrets.

He knows body language, and he definitely knows yours. It shocked him the first time he walked in on you cooking in the kitchen, only to be met with fidgety fingers and inconsistent eye contact. Odd. Nothing seemed out of place, so he just chalked it up to you being jumpy from suddenly sharing living spaces with someone.

But then it kept happening, and there didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. Wednesday night at 9:06. Sunday morning, 11:13. Sometimes it would happen several times in an hour, whenever he’d walk into the room. Over and over, something was giving you shifty eyes and a racing pulse, and it was driving him up the wall.

The common denominator is the kitchen, he knows that much. A cursory sweep comes up with nothing every time, so one day when you’re gone at work and he’s home, he goes all out. Bug detecting equipment, pulling everything out of the cabinets, scouring through cookbooks and the trash and every crevice he can find.

Nothing.

He’s able to put everything back in time, but he remains empty handed, and that makes him suspect that you’re far smarter than he realized.

And then he finally gets a break in the case. One day he’s walking around in socks, and it’s not until he’s nearly to the kitchen that the floor creaks under his foot, causing a flurry of movement in the kitchen. He crosses the space in just a few quick strides, as smooth as if he were making entry on a building, focus narrowed with freakish precision on catching you in the act.

His hand materializes on your wrist before you can let go of the thing you’re frantically burying in the trash. You’ve never seen him like this before, looming over you with his fingers clamped tight around your arm and his eyes crackling with energy.

Dammit. And you’ve always been so careful.

Ghost drags your hand out of the trash, and his eyes drop to the chocolate wrapper you have clutched in your fingers. He blinks at it a few times, just to convince himself he’s really seeing what he thinks he’s seeing.

“What are you doing?” He asks slowly, his gaze coming back up to your hot face.

“I was… um… eating some candy.”

“Why were you hiding it?”

“Uh…” your mind races to find an acceptable answer, something that won’t make you a target.

“Wait.” Ghost scowls, releasing your hand and taking the wrapper from your fingers. “This is about your knobhead ex, isn’t it?”

“I-I guess.”

Ghost lets out the largest, most relieved exhale you’ve ever heard from him, closing the trash and slamming you into his chest so suddenly that it makes your lungs automatically release some air.

“I thought you were trying to kill me, love.” His arm tightens around your shoulders. “All this time, you didn’t want me to know you were eating sweeties?”

Your, “Yeah,” comes out muffled with your face still smashed against his chest.

“Don’t do that. Don’t hide things from me. You’re allowed to eat whatever you fucking well want.”

Oh, okay.

He fucks you good that night, no longer withdrawn into his own head. He sleeps like a baby, too, and kisses you sweetly off to work the next morning. For several days you catch him smiling and shaking his head a little every time he looks at you, like he just can’t believe you made him suffer like that over something so ridiculous.

And it seems like every time you sit down for dinner now, you’ll find a little package of your favorite chocolate sitting next to your fork. How he gets it there every time without you seeing, you have no idea. To be honest, you’re getting kind of tired of the taste, but you still smile at him and grab his hand from his thigh, leaning in for a little kiss before you take a bite.

Drabble masterlist

[eupheme]

— double the pleasure, triple the fun

[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.6k

tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings

a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

(Or, your two becomes three.)

“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”

Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest. 

Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.

To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.

“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening. 

A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”

“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”

The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.

“Is that... Logan?”

“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”

There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”

“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“

Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”

“Definitely, maybe.”

Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey. 

“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”

He hums, head tilting.

“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”

Your brow furrows.

“You are talking about Logan now, right?”

Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”

And what a question it is. 

You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.

And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did. 

That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.

It was different. Special.

“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”

You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder. 

“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”

“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”

He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“

Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.

“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”

Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.

“Do you think he wants that, too?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”

You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”

“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.

“I’ll handle it.”

It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.

A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.

He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.  

It will be nice to be able to take your time. 

They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too. 

Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.

How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek. 

"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"

"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."

And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.

The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation. 

Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.

"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."

Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."

"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"

"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."

At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his mercenary business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit, or a late-night tryst. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past. 

Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.

It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life. 

But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects when they’re offered for you explore - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra. 

And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.

"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."

"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"

It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.

Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish. 

"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"

Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.

"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"

He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"

"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."

That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"

"Yeah, baby." He grins.

"Really fucking good." 

The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist. 

Threats and promises  to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom. 

Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned. 

And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work. 

More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.

It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together. 

Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.

Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open. 

“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth. 

It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you. 

“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”

“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open. 

A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”

“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”

Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.

“This is you handling it?” You hiss.

“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”

Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor. 

Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look. 

“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”

There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.

A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.

It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin. 

A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table. 

“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine. 

”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”

There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.

“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.” 

“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.

Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.

“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.” 

Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you. 

Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.

That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you. 

It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip. 

“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”

You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering. 

“‘m gonna-” It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown  that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”

Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”

For us. 

Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly. 

Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades. 

Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus. 

They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.

There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on. 

“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”

Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.

“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”

Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”

Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”

Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.

“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”

Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.

Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up. 

Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down. 

“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you. 

A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.

Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”

Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.

“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”

“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”

Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.

Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.

“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.

His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.

“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”

Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat. 

Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.

“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”

Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.

“Fuck us into your tight ass.”

You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel. 

“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”

“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.

His fingers crook, and curl.

“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?” 

“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”

His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”

It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.

The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.

His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.

Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.

A choked-out moan punched from his chest. 

“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”

They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.

“Stop moving when I do.”

It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.

“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”

His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.

“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?” 

Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest. 

A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”

You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.

“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”

“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks. 

“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”

Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.

Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep. 

Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.

It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.

Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart. 

How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.

A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.

It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips. 

He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.

Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss  peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear. 

A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.

Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back. 

The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.

A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.

Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.

A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back. 

“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”

Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.

“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.

The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.

His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”

“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.

“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”

Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”

Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.

Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.  

Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.

You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.  

“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”

Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter. 

It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under. 

Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you. 

The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over. 

Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you. 

There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.

Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.

Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning. 

Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do. 

“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk. 

Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.

“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”

“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”

Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows. 

Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise. 

Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again. 

Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together. 

It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely. 

Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips. 

A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing. 

It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter. 

“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.

“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”

Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.

As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time. 

“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”

“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open. 

Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.

“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, by the way.”

Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again. 

Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this. 

Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.

The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass. 

Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.

You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.

“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him. 

Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.

“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”

“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”

A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s. 

“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”

“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”

Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something. 

That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.

There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.

Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks. 

Something unsteady, finally finding purchase. 

“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.

“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”

He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider. 

“I’m good.”

thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )

[stealingyourbones]

Danny, being a halfa, falls under the strange category of people who can converse with the dead and act in their names. Most mediums simply convey messages. It was rare for someone to be able to fulfill a ghost’s dying request and have that act tied to the ghost’s core.

Honestly it’s annoying.

He doesn’t get any alone time anymore for homework or hobbies. The dead are constantly pestering Danny to help with their desires - which, sure, it helps them move on which means they’re out of Danny’s hair, but come on!! Give a guy a break! Just because he doesn’t need as much sleep as a fully living person doesn’t mean he can go without entirely!

“No Scott,” Danny repeated for the fifth time, “I am not flying to California tonight. Do you know how far that is? Literally the other coast of this massive continent. Meet me there in August like everyone else on the list.”

Spending the first spring break of college creating a map and calendar for Last Rites was not something Danny expected when he moved to Gotham.

Why did this city have so many ghosts?! It was ridiculous. And he thought Amity Park was bad? At least the ghosts here were mostly Shades. Not visible to anyone unless they were also dead-adjacent or had The Sight or a bloodline curse or a magical amulet… you know what? There were enough of those in this curse ridden city, why couldn’t these ghosts go find one of those people instead? Danny was exhausted.

So exhausted he didn’t notice the vigilante dropping down from the rooftop.

“Hey there kid, you alri-”

“Yeah yeah,” Danny waved a hand dismissively at the voice without looking up. “Wait in line like everyone else. But honestly you’d be better off coming back tomorrow when I’ve had some sleep.”

“Think maybe you outta get started on that sleep now, bud?” the voice behind him spoke in a calm careful tone.

One Danny had heard all too often since dying.

His head jerked sideways to stare wide-eyed at Nightwing, who tensed just a little as if expecting Danny to run or fight. Instead he let out a groan and slumped onto the park bench, rubbing his eyes to ease the burn of fatigue. He’d been coming out to this park at the corner of campus each night to keep the Shades from mobbing him all day long in classes, but they’d spread the word around Gotham that he was here and his precious spring break had become a non-stop line of requests and arguments. Made sense he’d caught the attention of one of the Bats. Should have expected it sooner.

Danny ignored all the voices around him and looked at Nightwing directly as he prattled off his usual list when someone caught him talking to thin air.

“No, I’m not hallucinating. I got all my Rogue Gallery immunizations the day I checked onto campus. I’m not schizophrenic. The only meds I take are for adhd and the occasional Tylenol. I’m not a danger to myself or others. Unless they attack me first.”

Nightwing nodded along, but tilted his head at the end.

“I’m talking to the dead,” Danny answered the unspoken question in a tired monotone, waiting for the usual skepticism or plea for help with lost loved ones.

“Oh. Okay then.”

“What?” That wasn’t expected.

“No yeah, that makes sense.”

Danny was sure his jaw was on the ground. “You… you believe me?”

“Well sure,” the hero shrugged and chuckled. “I can’t see ghosts myself but I know a couple magicians who work with one, and my little brother Robin has a ghost on his team - she’s actually visible most of the time so I don’t know if that’s a special skill or something else going on. But I’m glad you’re okay and don’t need any emergency medication. I know a couple 24 hour pharmacies that would help but it’s nice when they’re not needed. We don’t get a lot of mediums around Gotham holding court at night so you really can’t fault me for checking in.”

Danny was still floating in the relief of not being questioned or doubted. That hadn’t happened since Jazz found out his secret. She’d had plenty of questions about his halfa status, of course, but never called him crazy for talking to things others couldn’t see. Even Sam and Tucker would forget sometimes and give him strange looks before realizing he was dealing with a Shade, Wisp, or Memory.

He didn’t realize he was wobbling until Nightwing’s arms shot out to stabilize him.

Danny blinked up at the pretty face that was trying not to chuckle, held by strong arms, and so far past tired he might be getting delirious after all because his brain seemed to have lost its filter and he said out loud,

“You actually believe me. I think I love you.”

Then the horrifying embarrassment hit at the same time as Nightwing’s laughter. Which… sounded delighted rather than mean spirited?

“Well now it’s your turn to wait in line, cuz that’s the fourth confession I’ve had this week!” They both devolved into snorts and giggles, Danny still relying on those arms for balance, but when they’d caught their breath the vigilante said, “Come on, you’ve really got to get some sleep. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

Ignoring the whispers and grumbles of the Shades was easier with someone walking beside him.

This is so incredibly cute oml. It’s so rare to see the bats actually go with the flow and god it isn’t done enough. 12/10 immaculate, glorious.

The entire plot I can see so clearly in my mind dude:

Danny chatting to Nightwing as they walk to his dorm

Nightwing asking some casual questions about ghosts and Danny asking about vigilante work.

Nightwing informs the Bats of Danny as he might be a valuable asset in the future.

Nightwing helps free shades with Danny and he realizes why Danny is so incredibly tired all the time.

Nightwing managing to stumble into Danny every day of his break, slowly getting to know each other more and more and becoming really good friends (perhaps lovers 👀).

Wonderful stuff man ty for the ask!

[dearru]

playing a prank on them | ft. hq boys

-> rq: how would the hq boys react to you doing the TikTok trend where you wake them up in the middle of the night to play uno? (click HERE for TikTok trend! anon also explains it in their original request which is also linked :3)

-> pairings: miya atsumu, tsukishima kei, akaashi keiji, kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader | sfw | cw: cursing, i proofread this but also did i really… , akaashi is super sweet here so that is either ooc or super in character to some of u freaks | genre: fluff | wc: 1400 | mlist

❀ MIYA ATSUMU !

Atsumu is a deep sleeper and it normally takes him about one hour or so to fully wake up, but when he realizes he’s fallen asleep mid-game, he immediately locks in. It makes sense since he’s the most competitive man you’ve ever met… but also what the fuck is wrong with him.

I think he realizes it’s a prank because you can’t stop laughing but he doesn’t even care because he wants to win.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

— Your boyfriend may be the deepest sleeper in the entire universe. When setting up the prank, you had dropped your phone on him, opened the deck of cards loudly, and turned on the overhead light— all while he snored peacefully. If you googled the phrase, “sleeping like a rock,” you’re almost positive a picture of him would pop up.

Shaking his shoulders forcefully, you call his name, “‘Tsumu! Wake up!” Frowning when he groans, still asleep, you shake harder, “‘Tsumu!”

Half lidded, he mumbles, “What’s goin’ on?” It’s cute, you think. His tousled hair coupled with the hazy look on his face. So cute that your choked-back laughter rises to the surface.

“Uno, babe,” You chuckle, “We’re playing Uno.”

“We’re playin’...” He drawls out, opening his eyes and finally noticing the cards, “Yeah, that’s right…” He says, sitting up in bed and setting one down. His expression is so serious that you burst into a fit of giggles, your face growing hot from the silliness of it all.

“What ‘re ya laughin’ for?” Atsumu pouts, gesturing with his free-hand, brows furrowing, “‘S yer turn now.”

Tears are forming in your eyes now. Wiping them with the sleeve of your shirt, you laugh softly, “We weren’t actually playing Uno. I pranked you.”

You expect him to whine in typical Atsumu manner, but instead, he shakes his head, still focused, “I don’t give a damn if we weren’t playin’ in the first place, we gotta finish.”

Now it’s your turn to be confused. Smiling at him in amusement, you chuckle again, re-explaining yourself, “No– I mean, we were never playing. It’s this trend on TikTok where–”

“‘S still your turn.” He repeats, cutting you off, eyes laser-focused on the game in such a way that you know he’s not letting this slide.

Sighing, you place a card down.

As soon as you do, Atsumu nods, satisfied, then leans back against the headboard, crossing his arms like he’s about to make his next big move.

You can’t help but laugh again. He’s ridiculous.

❀ TSUKISHIMA KEI !

You’re super thorough when setting up the prank, but unfortunately, your boyfriend’s lowkey chronically online so he catches on immediately. He thinks it’s a really stupid joke, but it’s also two in the morning so what does he know.

Crankiest guy ever when woken up, but he loves you, so he tries to be somewhat nice. You are literally the only one who can get away with doing this to him.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

— “Kei,” You say in a hushed tone, hardly able to contain your giggles. Lips quirked up into a sly grin, you tap your boyfriend gently on the shoulder– voice teetering on the edge of a whisper-yell, “C’mon, it’s your turn.”

His eyes flutter open and adjust to the light. He stares at you like you’ve just spoken to him in another language. Too tired to act irritated, but awake enough to know he’s annoyed, he mumbles, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You gesture for him to look down, and when he notices the cards in his hand, he sighs. Without another word, he tosses them to the side and rolls over in bed, stealing a majority of the covers.

Nudging his back with your foot, you frown, “Don’t ignore me. It’s your turn.”

“No, it’s not,” He mumbles, voice thick with sleep and laced with subtle defiance, “Now go back to sleep.”

“What? But—“

“I’ve seen this trend before,” He cuts you off, sounding much too smug despite being drowsy, “Good try, though.”

Sighing, you start to clean the cards up, mumbling profanities under your breath. You can hear the faintest of snickers coming from his side of the bed.

“It’s not funny!” You pout, glaring at his backside.

“Yes, it is,” He replies, and you can picture the stupid grin on his face as he drifts back into a comfortable slumber, leaving you to stew in your Uno-induced defeat.

❀ AKAASHI KEIJI !

Keiji is a pretty light sleeper so you’re honestly surprised you were even able to set the prank up in the first place. I think it would be funny if you forgot to put his glasses on him so he literally cannot see LMAOOO.

Wakes up panicked because he thinks something bad has happened ;-; He is so sweetie pie…just let him sleep please.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

— “Keiji!” You whisper-shout, poking your boyfriend’s cheek, “Keiji!” 

He wakes immediately to the sound of your apparent distress, his mind instantly alert and anticipating danger. With panicked-filled eyes, he jolts upright, sheets pooling at his waist to reveal his black-shirt-clad frame, “What?” He gasps, gaze falling to you to ensure you’re alright, “What is it?” 

He looks so startled that you almost feel guilty for the prank altogether. 

Almost. 

“Everything’s fine,” You reassure him, barely keeping it together, you gesture to the cards in his hand, “But it’s your turn.” 

Only then does his mind relax enough to notice the Uno cards. His expression morphs from one of panic to embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, love” He murmurs, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes. Squinting at the cards, he sighs and lays them face down on the mattress, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” His voice is soft and apologetic– like he’s let you down in some way.

Okay, now you feel guilty. 

“Can we finish tomorrow?” Keiji asks, “Work’s been tiring from all the deadlines, and I really–”

The words die on his lips when you throw your arms around him and plant a kiss on his cheek. His arms wrap around you instinctively and he returns the kiss, albeit, a little confused, “What was that for?” 

Hugging him tighter, you mumble into his neck, “There was no game, it was a prank. I’m sorry.” 

Relaxing into your embrace, he chuckles, “I thought something was up.” 

“And you went along with it anyways?” You tilt your head, looking at him in amusement, “Why?” 

 “Because I like playing Uno” He smiles, pulling you closer. You can feel the cards press against your body as you lean into him, but you don’t mind. He kisses you on the forehead and looks at you in adoration, “And you.”

❀ KUROO TETSURO !

Kuroo sleeps with his mouth open and has the nastiest case of bedhead you’ve ever seen– which makes it kind of difficult for you to set the prank up without laughing. He also has a silk sleep mask laid over his eyes, and that doesn’t really help your case with being discreet, but you do end of successfully removing it before waking him up so he doesn’t get suspicious.

When he wakes up, he’s confused, but he goes along with it and probably wins because he takes card games very seriously.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

—“Tetsu,” You coo, tapping his arm gently, “Tetsu~” 

“Wha..?” He mumbles, looking at you, disorientated from being woken up so suddenly. His eyes glance from your expectant face down to the cards in his hand, and he wordlessly places a +4 down. 

Trying to contain your laughter, you snicker triumphantly as you place another +4 down in response to his play, irises shining with delight at how easily he’s fallen for your trick. 

He hums thoughtfully at this and you have to hold yourself back from cackling evilly. Your smugness is short-lived; however, when a satisfied look creeps over his face. It’s the kind of look he only gets when he knows he’s about to win. 

A feeling of impending doom washes over you when you realize you forgot to check what cards you gave him. 

“No…” You plead, eyes begging for mercy, “I thought you loved me.” 

“Sorry, babe,” He smiles, a picture of innocence as he places yet another +4 on top of yours, “Love doesn’t matter when it comes to Uno.”

Staring at the stacked cards in horror, you chuckle sheepishly, “You know– it’s late. Let’s just go to bed.” 

“No, no,” He says, grinning widely. For a man who was asleep moments ago, he looks more awake than ever, “I think I’m winning.”

–a/n: I have a WIP of this trend with Shoyo so lmk if you want a part 2 :). rq more characters if you’d like bc idk who else to write abt…