#i think so cause it covers most of the story

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A family thing

Written for the September pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles blog

Prompt: Anniversary

Rated: T

Tags: Post-Vecna; Everybody lives; Recovery; Disabled Eddie; POV Wayne Munson; Good uncle Wayne Munson; Implied sexual content; Domestic fluff; Found family

The sounds coming from the kitchen pull Wayne from his sleep much earlier than he'd like after a night shift. He lies awake for a while, cursing the government. Sure, they covered Eddie’s medical bills and bought them the new trailer, but would it have killed them to get one with thicker walls? He doesn't need to hear everything the boy gets up to. 

He's almost managed to drift off again when a clatter and a string of swear words make him shoot upright. He barrels out into the corridor that separates the living space from the bedrooms, almost colliding with Steve, who has just barged from Eddie’s room. His eyes are bleary, his hair a tousled mess. He's wearing boxers and a familiar guitar pick necklace, and that is it. 

“Ed?” Wayne asks, ignoring how Steve freezes at the sight of him. “What happened?” 

Eddie, on the kitchen floor in a heap of gangly limbs and fallen crutches, groans. “Wayne! You weren't supposed to wake up.” 

“Yeah, you're making that kinda hard,” Wayne mumbles, eyeing the shattered plates and spilled food on the ground. Toast and bacon and pancakes. There's something stuck in Eddie’s hair that looks like scrambled eggs. 

“What the hell?” Steve mutters, bridging the few steps into the kitchen and dropping into a crouch beside Eddie. Wayne stays where he is and watches. The way Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist to pull him up, careful not to hurt him. How Eddie slings bony arms over Steve’s shoulders, fingers grazing the scars on the boy's back. 

“Why didn't you ask me for help?” Steve asks. The rising sun basks the kitchen in oranges and golds, and for a second, Wayne is overcome by the thought that he mustn't blink, or they'll vanish. “I could've-” 

“What, on this highest of holidays?” Eddie asks, gesturing dramatically as Steve lowers him into one of the kitchen chairs. “Have you no respect for tradition? It is my responsibility and my duty to do this alone.” 

Steve blinks, then looks over at Wayne. 

“Okay? I don't get it.” 

Eddie cackles, gently pushing him aside to beckon Wayne closer. 

“Happy Uncle's Day!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Wayne grumbles, bending at the hip so that Eddie can hug him, but there's an annoying sting behind his eyes. For a moment all he can think is how close he came to losing all of this.

“What the fuck is Uncle's Day?” Steve asks. He's eyeing the calendar on the wall like he's expecting it to spout an extra holiday. 

Eddie scoffs. “Only the most important holiday of the year? You need to stay up to date on-” 

“When Ed was nine years old,” Wayne explains, making his way over to the coffee pot, “he came home one day, seething and spitting venom, ‘cause his teacher had them making Father's Day cards.” 

“Why would I be making that asshole a fucking card?” Eddie grumbles. A pink blush has erupted from the collar of his shirt, but Wayne isn’t sure if it's because of the childhood story or because of the way Steve has pulled out the chair next to his and is finger-combing bits of egg from his curls. “The only thing I should've given him is a kick in-” 

“That's exactly what he said back then,” Wayne says, pouring himself a cup and leaning against the counter. “So we came up with an idea.” 

Steve frowns at Eddie. “Uncle's Day?” 

Eddie beams. “The anniversary of the day Wayne took me in.”

“Dunno if took in is the right term,” Wayne hums around his first sip. “You pretty much let yourself in and refused to leave.” 

Eddie waves him off, as if to say that he won’t argue about the technicalities. Steve’s eyes, meanwhile, have grown large. 

“Wait,” he says. “That's today? Why didn’t- … I’m sorry, I had no idea.” 

Eddie cocks his head at him, smile bright and incredibly fond. It makes a familiar warmth spread behind Wayne’s collarbone, one that has nothing at all to do with the coffee. “Why would you be sorry?” 

Steve gestures awkwardly at the mess that is the kitchen. “This is a family thing. If you’d told me, I’d have left you alone.” 

Eddie laughs. On the tabletop, his fingers find Steve’s. 

“Exactly,” he says. “This is a family thing. You're right where you belong. Ain't he, Wayne?” 

Wayne regards them - two men littered in battle scars, leaning into each other in the hazy morning light - and thinks of a hurt little boy who was too scared to let anyone in. 

“Can't argue with that,” he says. 

Steve's face lights up as if he'd just invited him to spend Christmas morning. 

“I- … thank you,” he stutters, and Wayne gets a feeling that he, too, is still learning to let people in. “Let me clean this up, and then I'll make us new-” 

“Stevie,” Eddie says, and hooks one finger into the necklace to pull him back. His next words are a murmur against the shell of Steve's ear, so low Wayne almost misses them. “Maybe get dressed first, darling.” 

The last thing Wayne sees of Steve as he flees into Eddie’s room is the blush coloring his neck and shoulders. 

“Do you have to tease him like that?” he asks, starting to gather the broken plates off the ground. 

Eddie shrugs. “He can take it. I think that's a basic requirement for joining this family?”  

His eyes find Wayne's, searching for a reaction. 

“Ed,” he says, picking up the crutches and handing them over. “My only requirement ever was for you to be happy. I think your boy has long proven himself in that regard. Now, run over to the Mayfields and ask if we can borrow some eggs, yeah?” 

As Eddie bolts out with a blush matching Steve's, Wayne settles into the newly vacated chair, allowing himself a long sip of coffee and a content sigh. 

It's gonna be a good Uncle's Day. 

[dsireland86]

MASKED PT.2 (The Part About Noah)

tags:

@philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa

@dominuslunae

The drama continues through Noah's point of view

MASKED PT.1 (THE FOLIO PART)

So, here's the thing. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to my writing. When my OCD is triggered, I have to fix what is messed up. I was proof reading this story last night after posting it an found so much that needed change and spent the rest of the night fixing what I hated about it.

To those who've already read through, commented, loved, or rebloged, thank you! You're the reason I keep posting here. But I recommend re-reading it because it's so much better. I fixed and changed a lot due to last minute inspiration.

Thank you, my beautiful Tumblr family. You're words, love and reblogs make me so happy that it's a little ridiculous.

Happy reading everyone!

18+ below

“Maybe I'm sick, maybe I'm already dead/Cause I'm not really scared of what comes next/Maybe I'm sick, maybe I'm fucked in the head/'Cause I'm not really scared of the consequence”

-HEDONIST-

Sunday: Midnight 

“Look at her. She's so fucking gorgeous sitting there with her head back and mouth opened, waiting for our cum.” 

I stroke her face, humming in approval when she leans into my touch. The sight of her on her knees before the two of us, with her hands tied behind her back and wearing nothing but her black bra is a sight to behold; one that I'd been dying to see since the day I first met her. 

“Who’s going first?” Folio asks.

I turn to him, feeling like I’m staring into a mirror. The black ski mask covers most of his face. Only his eyes and mouth are visible, with a little bit of skin showing around each. The band's white logo, the symbols of death, peace, and mind, stand out among all of the black like a scarlet letter, baring the images of sexual perversion and degradation in her mind, no doubt. 

“Why don't you go first? Show me how good her mouth can fuck.” Folio nods, undoing the button of his black jeans. 

I shift my gaze back to her, staring directly into her dark orbs that are wantonly awakened. The small smile, trapped in the corners of her mouth, makes the flutter in the pit of my stomach reach my cock. It twitches, throbbing with such an ache for release that I’m quickly losing my grip on my sanity. Her eyes drop, following my hand as I palm my erection hidden beneath my black stage pants. The way she stares, narrowing those beautiful eyes and clenching her jaw, makes the fire slowly burning through my veins ignite into a hot blaze. She wants this, more than I ever thought she would, leading me to think maybe she doesn’t hate me as much as I thought she did. 

I want my turn with her. I want to feel her fuck me with her mouth until she’s gagging and spitting as I grip her by the hair to keep her in place. I want her to take me over the edge and make me lose control. But I need to watch first. I need to watch the way she fucks her lover, who happens to be like a brother to me, and make him cum.

It’ll be my turn after that, one of the very many I’m free to have with her just for tonight. 

Saturday Morning: 

God she sounds beautiful. Her cries of pleasure ring throughout the house, bouncing off every wall, ripping through the silence and replacing it with her song of sexual fulfillment that could only be given to her by one man. She’s hungry for him, begging for more of what he’s putting down and from the sounds of it, he seems to be delivering. Folio’s got it all with her and it’s my fault. I let it slip out of my hands because my ego was louder than my love and somewhere in between, the lines blurred together. It got too hard for me to tell the difference between love and lust and eventually everything just blew apart. I was blinded, too dumb to realize how she really felt about me. Now it was too late.

Motherfucker.

The lewd sounds coming from the bedroom are unsettling and I can’t help but envision the two of them tangled up in one another, doing whatever it takes to get the other off. They both sound so desperate and needy, pathetically at the mercy of the other. I chew on my lips out of a nervous habit, fighting the temptation of wanting to watch them, to see their bodies come together in ways I've only ever thought about. I want to watch Folio wear the mask as he takes her, invades her and fills her full of him. I want to watch how she responds to him, the expression on her face changing with every new thing he does to her. I want to watch her cum. 

No. Shit. I want to feel her cum.

I begin to palm my swollen cock beneath the table, massaging slowly at first, but as her sounds grow louder, I unzip and take myself fully into my hand, going harder and faster in hopes of soothing the intense pressure building up. My dick is throbbing, the consistent pulsing pushing hard against my hand until finally, her sudden shrill of ecstasy rings through the deadly silence. 

I release my cock right before my climax hits, slamming a clenched fist down on the table while suppressing a deep growl of dissatisfaction for not meeting my own expectations. Out of breath, heart racing, and legs trembling, I stay seated, waiting for everything to come back into focus. After a few minutes, I stand up and adjust myself, taking a deep breath and letting it out quickly. 

I glance down at the table. The hollow eyes of the black ski mask meet mine. Its empty stare feels like it's challenging me, daring me to go through with the idea I've had in my head for days. The mask; it knows me, because it is me. Picking it up, I slip it on and glance into the nearby mirror. It sits well on me. Just like it always does.

Turning my head left and right, I stare at the man before me, shifting my sight from the white embroidered logos of death, peace, and mind, to my eyes, dark and narrowing. What will she think when she sees me? What will she say, if anything. I think too much when it comes to her. Fuck. She really is the death of my peace of mind.

Closing my eyes, I envision the blackness of the yarn running across the pale, delicate flesh between her legs as I devour her, eating her between her luscious folds until she’s crying my name and clawing my skin. I envision my covered nose dragging along the trail of her clit, breathing in the scent of her and stopping just above her entrance to circle the delicate pink flesh that's dripping wet. 

My whole body shudders. I’ve never wanted anything more than the way I want her. She's the only pleasure I want, the ecstasy I would kill for a taste of. I run my hands over the black yarn, and peer through the cracks of my fingers at the face before me. 

I’ve come to loathe the sight of it. It’s a face of trouble and regret and nothing good could come from it. The reasoning behind Folio’s request two nights ago has been eating away at me. He said he's worried about her, concerned that too much of the past is hurting her more than it should be. It's my fault. All of it.

I played games with her heart and eventually she got tired of my shit. When I saw she was moving on, finding the love and attention she wanted and needed in Folio, I got pissed off, jealous that she wasn’t all about me anymore, or at least I thought she wasn’t.  

So, I got drunk at a party one night and fucked some random girl in a bathroom. I thought I’d won until she walked in on the two of us right as I pulled out and came all over the back of the girl whose face I don’t even remember. I'll never forget the look on her face. It shattered my heart, burning its way into my memory forever. It scared my heart. I ran after her but then watched her run right into the arms of my best friend. 

Pain. Agonizing hurt. Bitterness. All of it flooded my head, taking over every thought until I was finally honest with myself. I was in love with her, but I was too toxic for her. She didn’t deserve me. She deserved Folio. He would protect her heart; make her feel safe. He would dry her tears and hold her close, doing his best to mend the heart that I had shattered. Because of how much I hated myself, I shut them both out. At times, I think I was meaner to her than I was before I fucked everything up, yet too selfish to care about the heart I broke. I couldn’t get past my own hurt while I ignored hers

Thank god everything eventually smoothed over. The past got buried leading me to believe she got over it and moved on with Folio. But maybe I was wrong to believe that. Was she still living in the past, with hurt and pain that she never actually got over, only threw a band aid over just like I did?

Which brings me back to the reason I’m here

He’s given me permission to have a masked affair with her, but only if she’s willing. The idea is so fucked up; Folio allowing me to violate and penetrate what he’d fuck another guy up over if he touched her the way that I want to touch her. I can’t wrap my thoughts around any of it. 

“Folio! Hey, I’m running over to the cafe for some breakfast. Do you want me to bring you two anything?” “Yeah, that would be great, thanks. We’re just…, we’ll be out in a few minutes.”  “No rush. You two sound busy. I’ll be back in a few.”

I stand at the door for a moment, fighting the urge to open it, leaning my forehead against it and taking a deep breath before walking away. I toss the ski mask on the table as I pass by, walking right out the front door, pulling it closed behind me.

“I'm taking it slowly, you'd never know/How quick it gets lonely here at the top/Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn/The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone”

-Bad Decisions-

Sunday: Midnight

She’s confused when I grab both of her wrists and gently pull them behind her back. “What are you doing?” I can sense the alarm in her voice and it makes me grin with satisfaction. 

After tying the knot around her wrists, not too tight but enough to know she can’t get out of the restraint, I lean over her shoulder and run my covered nose up the side of her neck, clenching my jaw as she leans her head back just enough for me to kiss the hollow of her throat. “I want you at my mercy while I do all the sick, perverted things I’ve been dreaming about for months, Princess.” 

Her shallow whimper weakens me. I’m hard as a rock and a part of me hates it, hates her, for making me want her this much, and I hate myself for not having more self control when it comes to her. My jaw ticks with the rhythm of my pulse as I grab her by the hair, yanking her head back further and looking deep into her eyes. They skim over the mask covering my face and I catch the glimmer of desire in them. “God, Noah,” she breaths. The sound of my name slipping from her pink, luscious lips arouses me, making me more desperate than before. 

“You look…” but she bites her lip instead of finishing her thought. “Don't bite your lip.” My stare is fixated on her. “Why?” “Unless you want to find yourself slammed against the wall with my hands pressed between your legs and around your throat. Do you want that?” She shakes her head as best she can. “Good. Then get on the bed and on your fucking knees for me, Princess.” 

A devious smile spreads across her mouth as she willingly obeys, but not before getting swept up in a heated kiss from Folio. His skin against hers is something they’re used to seeing, but I’m not. And even though it shouldn’t, it turns me on. He whispers something in her ear and she nods, but I catch the swift move of his finger swiping up her wet pussy, noticing how her body responds to it; automatically aroused. 

She looks back at me and stands on the tips of her toes. I know what she wants, so I indulge her by taking her lips by brutal force, groaning as my tongue plunges its way into her mouth and licking deep. Her response has the pre-cum slipping from the slit on my cock soaking a small spot of my briefs. 

“On the bed, on your knees, and ass up, now, Princess,” I growl against her lips.

               Saturday Afternoon

She’s sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter with her arms folded tightly across her chest, staring down at the floor below her. A few moments ago, when she came out into the kitchen and saw me standing here, I swear if looks could kill, I’d be dead.

She fucking hates me.

Peering up, she scowls at me, eyebrows coming together to form the cutest angry face I've ever seen her make. I snicker, but she just rolls her eyes and looks away. 

Shit. 

But then she looks back, locking me in an intoxicating stare that’s harsh and unmerciful, and I can’t get a breath down as I drown in it. But I welcome it and all the pain that comes with it. “Hey man, are you sure she’s up for this? Have you even told her yet?” I tap Folio on the shoulder to get his attention. He shakes his head. and my brain immediately starts to freak out. “Fuck, Folio! No wonder she’s pissed. You didn’t tell her anything?” “No.” His answer is taut and quick. 

“Great. She already hates that I’m breathing. This idea is likely to cause her to drive a knife through my chest! I thought we already talked about this the other night!” “Will you stop being so damn dramatic, Noah! Chill, dude!” he says, raising his voice. Folio may be smaller than me, but he’s feisty as hell. And when he raises his voice in a certain tone, one knows he’s serious. It’s obvious to me he’s pretty fucking serious right now. 

“Look, you think whatever you want to, okay, Noah? But I know my girl, like I know my kit and my Harley, alright? Yeah, she’s still kinda angry about the past, but not enough that she wants you dead or anything close to that. But you two have shit you need to work out. It’s been too fucking long that the hostility and weirdness between the two of you has been going on."

I scowl, completely caught off guard .

"You’re not the only ones it’s affecting, Noah. It’s killing me, and both of you keep beating around the fucking bush, meeting on the one side, only to turn around, avoid each other, then meet on the other side, again. It’s ridiculous and it has to stop. All the bickering, the awkwardness when we’re all together and the fact that neither of you can be left in the same room together without fighting, is starting to piss all of us off. Not to mention the fights she and I are starting to have, but that’s besides the point.” 

I frown in confusion. “Fights? You two are fighting? Folio,” “Don’t, Noah. Our relationship is not your business.” Folio rubs his jawline. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head over thinking there is no way any of this is going to work. But Nick’s right about one thing. She and I do have shit to get over. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing I say or do will ever make things right between us. 

“There is no way she’s going for this, Nick. There’s no chance in hell she’ll even let me near her let alone… allow me to touch her.” Those last words hit my heart hard. "All I’ve wanted for months is to just hold her and tell her I’m sorry, but we can’t even be in the same room together for too long. I'm actually surprised we've lasted this long." “Well, something's keeping her here. She hasn't gotten mad at you yet." “That’s because you’re here,” I scoff.

Folio growls in frustration “Noah, listen to me,” he orders, clearly annoyed. “Ever since the night of that party, I’ve had to watch her beat herself up over and over again, trying to put the broken pieces of her heart back together. I’ve done what I can to help her, but there’s a piece that’s missing. I see the way it’s affecting her and she doesn’t even realize it. 

“Okay, so what does any of this have to do with me and her?” Folio rolled his eyes. “God, you're so freaking dumb sometimes, dude. You're the piece, Noah! Shit! You've always been the piece.” “What…what do you mean “I’m the piece”,” I stammer.

Folio sighs, removes his hat to run his hands through his hair, then puts it back on, inhaling a deep breath and exhaling it quickly. “There are nights when she's asleep that I hear her say your name. It's never dramatic, nothing sexual. Just simple. Sweet. For some damn reason, you still mean so much to her, Noah. I can’t, for the life of me, understand why. I mean, it was bad enough when you took your shit out on me, hating me and whatever, but the way you treated her, when she wasn’t even the one who did anything wrong, dude… you fucked her up pretty good. The games you played with her mind, Noah… you don’t even know man.” 

Folio shakes his head, turning away from me. “So that’s what this is all about? Closure? Tying up loose ends?” I grumble. “More like you taking responsibility and owning up to what you did. Admit to her the truth so she can stop feeling like shit about all of it.” “I only did what I did because she dropped me like a bad fucking habit, Nick, and moved on to you! Fuck!” 

I run both hands through my hair, pulling at the roots with frustration from all this insanity. “You were even between her legs that night, man! I heard the two of you. So, don't preach to me about how bad I hurt her! She didn't fucking care about me.” “Really, Noah! That’s how you justify it? When are you going to understand that she only gave up waiting for you? She didn’t give up on you. She only came to me, falling into my arms that night, because she caught you fucking another girl after she spent countless days, weeks, hell even months, trying to show you that she wanted you. Don't you dare say she didn't care about you! She cared way too much for you! You shattered her heart for no good fucking reason other than your ego was wounded. She tried showing you, Noah. She tried telling you that she wanted you, but you ignored her. You played sick mind games with her. You know you made this mess, and now I’m telling you, you’re going to fix it. I’m give you the fucking chance to fix it!” 

I bite my tongue, holding back all the things I want to say but know I shouldn’t. Folio is right about everything, but for some reason I can’t let go of wanting her to accept the blame for what she did to me when she moved on so quickly with my best friend. 

“What chance are you giving him, Nick?” 

Her voice startles both of us. Folio looks at me eyes wide and full of regret. This wasn’t how he wanted her to find out. She hops down off the counter and comes over to us, walking right past me like I’m a ghost. Her persistence in ignoring me pricks my heart. Folio throws his hands on his head, messing with his hat nervously. I need to be the one to handle this. I’ve caused my brother enough grief.

“A chance to fix the past. A masked affair, Princess,” blurting out just as Folio opens his mouth to speak. Slowly, she turns and looks at me. “I’m sorry, what?” There’s no mistaking the surprise in her voice. 

“A masked affair. You do know what an affair is, right?” “Yeah, Noah, I know what it is,” she states, clearly irritated. Ohhh, she’s getting pissy with me. It won’t be long now before the two of us are arguing. “Good,” I grin, taking a step closer towards her only for her to take a step back, but she doesn’t turn and leave like she normally does when I make her mad. My eyes quickly snap up to hers, locking them in a heated stare; one that's instigating my inner depravity. 

I feel that familiar feeling I get every time she and I start to fight, but this time, there’s something more to it; a certain tension that was never there before, drawing the two of us together. And the fact that she’s not running from me this time, is alarming. “Then, maybe you can show me if that mouth is good for something else other than sarcasm.” There’s a fire that ignites in her eyes and it makes my heart slam into my chest like a fist to a punching bag. Every beat of it bridges the gap between us.

“Excuse me!” “Holy shit!” Folio utters. “Noah, what the fuck?”  “What?” “A bit much, don’t you think?” I laugh. “Not enough.” She stares at me and Folio, her narrow eyes darting back and forth between us. “Okay, one of you better tell me what the hell is going on, right now.“ “I will if you come here.” 

“No! Not a chance, Noah,” she snaps. I clench my teeth, tossing my head from side to side to relieve the tension. Her unwillingness to submit to me only turns me on even more. I guess it’s time to get dirty. “Alright, let's try this again, Princess. And if you get pissy with me again, I’ll make you sorry for that mouth. Now, come here,” I demand, raising an eyebrow. Folio is quiet, unsure if he should interject or not.

At first she just stands there, seemingly unsure about where this is all coming from and where it could possibly be going, making me think she’s not going to do as I told her, but then she surprises me by taking a few awkward steps towards me. “That’s better. Now, look at me.” I expect to find a lot of angst when she does, but instead I find tears and it rips my heart apart. I did this to her. I caused her pain. And as I wipe the tears away that slide down her cheeks, surprised she doesn't pull away, I can no longer control my need to kiss her. I have to fucking kiss her.

With one hand, I gather the back of her hair and gently yank her head back, hearing a soft whimper fall under her breath and use my other hand to wrap around her throat. Licking my dry lips, I glance over her sweet face and in an instant our lips crash together in such a heated kiss that it could set the place on fire. My lips glide over hers as I kiss the corners of her mouth, slowly dragging my tongue to the middle of her lips and biting down. The second she gasps, I slide my tongue through her parted lips and stroke hers, massaging it the same way I know I’m going to massage her pussy later. 

Her hands gather the sides of my shirt, unexpectedly pulling me closer and causing me to stagger like a drunk man. But then she pulls away and the sudden loss of her lips is torture. “I hate you,” she sneers, pulling herself out of my grip and shoving me away from her. Her chest is rapidly rising and falling, proof I've kissed her well, and her cheeks are covered with a pretty shade of a deep pink flush. Her aggression towards me is intoxicatingly hot and all I want to do now is grab her by the hair again, bend her over and fuck her senselessly until her moans turn into screams for me. 

“You hate me, huh,” I echo her claim. “Yes,” she spits. “I hate you.” I fight the urge to kiss her again. “Why?” “You know why, Noah. Don’t make me say it.” “Maybe I do know,” stepping closer, “but maybe I want to hear you say it. Tell me why you hate me.” I grab her wrists and she gasps. Our bodies are almost touching again and I can feel her warmth radiating onto me. This is the closest I’ve been to her in months.  

I forgot how beautiful she is. Her freckles, her brown eyes, her laughter lines, all of it makes me ache with misery over what I did to her and what it cost me. “I don’t want to. You already know,” she accuses. But I won’t accept her answer. “Please, tell me. I need you to tell me, Princess,” My plea comes out as a whisper only she can hear and I know I’ve let my guard down too far when the hard glare in her eyes softens and so does her resistance against me. 

My heart is pounding, feeling like it might explode out of my chest, because of how vulnerable I’ve just made myself. “Because you were cruel to me Noah. You broke my heart and you didn't even care.” And there it is. There’s the fucking slap to the face, the punch to the gut, the salt to the wound that I've been waiting for; the one I deserve. She closes her eyes and more tears spill out, running down her face and smearing the faint traces of her makeup. 

The amount of rage that swells inside me is enough to flatten an entire city. It’s not just rage for the shit I did, but she did as well. The way she crawled into Folio’s bed and allowed him between her legs when she didn’t get what she wanted from me, or pushed me away the many times I tried to apologize to her. No, she wasn’t the only victim here. We both were. But if there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure of now it’s that she doesn’t hate me. She only thinks she does. And I’ll convince her she doesn't once I’m between her legs, buried deep inside her and showing her how much I ache for her just like I know she aches for me. 

“I cared, baby. I cared more than you'll ever know.” She looks at me confused. “Then why didn't you,” “Why didn't I tell you? I tried. But you were so focused on your hurt and getting fucked by my best friend that you didn’t notice.” A look of shock sweeps across her face. “I heard the two of you that night and every night after. And I saw you, too, one night by the pool. You were wearing that little red one piece that hugs your body so well. I watched Folio rip it off you and fuck you against the concrete before yanking you into the water where he made you cum.” Her face is flushed , bringing out the pretty shade of red on her cheeks.

“And then there was the night he fucked you on the kitchen counter before bending you over the table and plowing into, making you scream. God, he was a fucking beast to you that night. I got so mad that he was that rough with you.” I caressed her face, wiping away her tears. “I cared, baby. You just didn't give me the chance to tell you." She was so quiet, fighting hard to get control of her emotions.

“Noah, I’m,” I capture her lips in mine, silencing her apology before she even gets those stupid, goddamn words out, the same ones I've been needing to hear after all this time. But now that I'm about to, I don't need her to say she's sorry. I just want her to not hurt anymore. “Don't,” I shake my head. “You don't need to,” I pause, clenching my teeth and taking a deep breath through my nose. “You don't hate me, Princess.” My cock is burning erratically, throbbing recklessly to the point that it’s maddening. 

I yank her head back by the hair again as my hand reclaims its place around her neck, rubbing my thumb along her jawline and disarming her from anything she’s about to say next. Her breath hitches in the back of her throat and she tries to swallow, making the small bump of her Adam's apple enticing enough to eat; and that’s what I do.

Without hesitating, I lean down and take a bite, biting down lightly but with enough force so she knows I’m the one in control. She cries out softly, wrenching down on my shoulders, and digging her nails into my skin. I hiss beneath the bite, sucking the spit up before turning the bite into a pretty reddish bruise. Grazing the skin of her throat with my teeth, I turn the biting and sucking into a kiss.

The loud gasp she makes as I breathe in her scent, penetrates my veins and crawls its way to my memory and I hum in approval as I taste her salty skin on my tongue feeling the subtle yet powerful whimpered moan that escapes her vibrate against my lips. My cock twitches just enough for her to feel it against her belly. 

“Noah,” she whispers my name as I suck the skin of her neck some more, leaving faint little marks behind, claiming her as mine now; even if it’s only for tonight. Her hands snake around my neck, depending on my strength alone to hold her up. “You know what I hate?” I growl, lifting my head to face her, kissing her lips before continuing. “I fucking hate the way Folio touches you,” I say, the distaste of the idea clear in my tone. Folio takes a few steps towards us. The man’s on the edge of his seat and I couldn’t be happier. I run my nose up and down her skin, turning her head and breathing her in on every side.

“I can't stand how he looks at you, how he makes you his with every scream, every moan that you make when he fucks up into you,” sneering through clenched teeth, tightening the grip I have on her. She swallows hard, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes again when I lift my head to look at her. “I heard you this morning, too, Princess. I was sitting at the table, wearing the black mask, envisioning I was the one fucking you while getting my self off. I almost did. And that fucking fantastic moment you came for Folio, all over his face,” I smile, kissing her again, “god, I can’t explain to you the way it made me feel. I envy Folio. I envy everything he has with you, because it should be mine.”

Her eyes dart back and forth as she’s holding her breath. I'm under her skin now, making my way quickly into her veins. It’s just a matter of moments before she gives in to me. “You sounded so fucking beautiful. The way he fucked you must have been satisfying. Was it?” I caress the side of her face with the back of my fingers, leaning down and kissing her cheek. 

“I bet I can make you cum harder, though. What do you think, huh?” She whimpers, making the fire in my abdomen ignite and I feel the wetness of my underwear against my erection. Fuck. Taking a shaky breath, I run my hand over her neck, releasing my grip for a moment to lean down and take her lips with mine, this time forcing my tongue into her mouth. At first she fights with me, but then I feel hers run over mine, allowing me to meet hers and together, our tongues dance. My knees grow weak. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this game up.

“God, you have no idea how much I fucking want you! The thoughts that I have about how I want to fuck you and punish you for letting another man put his hands on you. How much I want to strip you naked and pound into that sweetly soaked pussy of yours that you allow Folio to fuck whenever he wants,” I growl against her mouth as she releases a needy moan. “Noah,” she whines. I slip my hand under her shirt just to graze the skin beneath the waistband of her shorts. I can tell her nerves are on fire from the way goosebumps prickle her skin. “I want it, Princess. I want all of you, but can’t have it,”

She closes her eyes briefly as more tears slip out from the corners of her eyes. “Noah,” she softly whines again, letting her hands fall to my shoulders. “Not until you say I can.” She gasps, blinking a few times. Without saying another word, I turn her head and run my nose, lips and tongue up the side of her neck, taking the bottom lobe of her ear between my teeth and suck on it before pulling away. The whimper she gives me makes my cock ache deeply. “Fuck, Princess, I wanna ruin you, damage you inside and out until all you know is the shape of my cock,” I mumble, nipping and kissing her neck some more. She’s wrecked from my words alone. 

I smile at knowing I’ve won. “I'm done waiting,” I tell her harshly, laying my forehead against hers. “Waiting for what?” she questions, her voice quivering. “To get what I want, Princess.” She swallows hard. “And what do you want, Noah?” she softly asks.

“I want you. I want your sex, I want your taste in my mouth. I want your cum on my cock. I want you to let me fuck you, to sink my dick so far into you, hitting that spot that’ll have you screaming until your voice is hoarse and I break you and make you feel empty when I'm done. I want to ruin you and make you take what I give you until you’re begging for more, never satisfied until you can feel me in every single cell of your body for days. I want you, Princess. Every single part of you.”

I release her but she makes no attempt to separate us. Her hands have left my shoulders, standing fully on her feet now, but I can still feel her grip on them. Her chest is quickly rising and falling. She’s fighting all the thoughts running through her mind, including the ones I’ve planted. She’s going to tell me no. I can feel it. I can see it in the look on her face. I brace myself for the let down.

“Fine,” she says, in a voice sure and strong. I grin, taking a deep breath and letting it out quickly. I’ve won. “See, you don’t hate me. You do like me.” Her jaw clenches.” “And you know you want me.” She looks away. “Dammit, Princess , why can you just admit the truth? Why do you keep lying to yourself?” When she doesn’t answer, Folio steps in between us, looking only at her. “Tell him, Sweetheart. Tell Noah the truth. I'll be okay, I promise. I know you love me.” “I'm in love with you, Nick, you’re my world,” she cries as more tears trickle down her cheeks. Folio smiles softly at her.

“I know that too, baby. It's okay. Just tell him the truth,” he encourages her. Her eyes meet mine. I can’t read them. There’s too many mixed emotions. “You want me to say it? Fine, I'll say it. I fucking hate your guts Noah Sebastian. I hate everything about you; the way you look, the way you smile, the way you laugh,” she pauses and steps closer to me. “I hate the way you make me feel; so helpless, so weak. And, hate… fuck! I hate the way I fucking love you, Noah. I hate that I want you! Are you happy? I fucking want you.”

My heart explodes inside me, leaving me feeling like I’ve won everything, but lost it all at the same time. She loves me. She wants me. But I can’t keep her… I can’t keep her. So if I can’t keep her, then I need to make sure I leave enough scars for her to remember what happens here tonight. I will ruin her. I’ll damage her so she won’t forget about us, forget about me and that for one night, she was mine.

“No way to right these wrongs/Either way, I'm feeling, it might just cost /something in the millions/I know that I can't resist/You know I can't just stop”

-Somebody Else-

              Saturday Evening:

“Are you sure you're okay with this, Sweetheart,” Folio asks her, removing her shirt and tossing it on the floor. His pupils instantly darken at seeing her small breasts covered by the black cotton bra. I should have known she was nothing fancy. Simple and basic; one hundred percent her and I couldn’t love it more. He hooks his fingers around the waistband of her shorts and pulls them down, revealing her matching panties, and tosses them over with the shirt. Both of them are silent as he stands there admiring her.

I grin at seeing her cheeks redden. “Nick, are you okay,” she asks sweetly. He nods and caresses her cheek. “Then why are you staring at me like that?” “Because, I love you and I love seeing you naked.” She giggles. “Well, technically, I’m not naked yet.” “Yeah, well give me two seconds and you will be!” Folio tackles her, grabbing her sides and making her squeal in delight. He puts her down, looking over at me. “You’re positive you want to do this?” he asks her, hesitatingly. “This was your idea, remember?” She slides her hands up his chest, running her fingers over his chin. "God, why are you so freaking cute?" Folio smiles, chuckling lightly.

He kisses her on the lips, holding her around the waist, closely. She doesn't let him go, but instead pulls him closer to her with their lips still locked tightly together, leading them over to the couch where she lowers herself down and spreading her legs wide open, running her hand over her covered pussy. She looks at me as she does it and I I groan, low and deep in my chest, biting the inside of my cheek. My cock is already so fucking hard, aching with the need to release. I grab it, rubbing it slightly to help ease the feeling, but it doesn’t help. 

“Fuck, baby,” Folio mutters, lowering himself down closer to her, bracing himself with one hand against the back of the couch while the other is trailing up the side of her neck and over her lips. “I want you too, Nick,” she says loud enough for me to hear. “I can’t let Noah have what he wants without you getting it too. I need to please you both.”

“Holy shit,” Folio laughs, grinning wildly as he rubs his crotch against her knee. There's no way she's implying what I think she's implying, but I ask anyway. “What are you saying, Princess? You want a threesome?” Folio looks from her to me and then back to her, waiting for her to answer, completely unsure if her heard me right. “Well, I don’t want you two to do anything, I just want you both to have me. I want to please both of you.” Folio looks over at me again, shaking his head slowly. His eyes are wide, proof of how surprised he is by her request. "Well?" “I’m game if you are,” he agrees. I look at her and watch the way her fingers wander purposely over her pussy, causing my heart to pound against my chest. It’s enough for me. “Fuck it. Fine, Princess. You can have us both.” 

She smiles, licks her bottom lip, and turns back to Folio, reaching up to undo his belt. But before she follows through, she stops. “The mask." Her eyes light up. "What about it," he says quietly, dragging his finger down between her breasts. "You told me you brought it with you. If this is a masked affair then you need to play your part, too. Put the mask on for me, Nicky, please.” A wide grin spreads over his face. “You want me to wear the mask? You wanna fuck like we did at home the last time I wore it?” She nods her head, shyly, slipping the tip of her finger in between her teeth. Seeing it makes my heart race. The urgency of how much I'm needing her is disgusting, but I welcome it.

 Folio leaves her, going over to his bag to retrieve the mask, and stares at me as he walks by. God, I hope this doesn’t turn into a fucking competition. When he returns to her, slipping the mask on as he stands before her, her hands return to his belt and continues their task of unbuckling it. “Is this better?” She grins approvingly and nods. She looks over at me, take a long breath as he pushes her black panties to the side and immediately slips his fingers inside her. The moan that escapes her goes straight to my cock, making the muscles in my abdomen tighten.

Holy fuck.

Inching closer to them, slipping my mask on and hiding behind the safety of the my alter ego, I focus on Folio as he works his finger deeper inside her walls, pulling small cries and whimpers from her. Her eyes are closed, focusing hard on the connection between her orgasm and Folio's fingers. Each one of her needy moans echo through the room, bouncing off the walls and into the deep caverns of my brain where I commit them to memory. Seeing the way Folio intently feels her, fucking her slowly but aggressively is almost too much. It's turning me on too much and I feel like I might cum just from watching them. I palm my swollen cock, groaning as I shift it beneath the confines of my pants, I focus my thoughts on the two of them instead of my need to cum, but it's impossible. The two go hand in hand at this point.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, Folio hums, licking his lips. "You're so fucking wet. Look how coated my fingers are,” he groans, pulling them out to show her how her arousal glistens on his fingers. "Nick," she moans, breathlessly as he takes them in his mouth and licks the taste of her. "Open," he commands her, and she listens, opening her mouth just enough for him to insert his two fingers inside her mouth. Her lips seal around them and she proceeds to suck them. She runs the side of her tongue against them, making Folio, curse an growl loudly.

"Holy fuck, what are you trying to accomplish, baby?" he laughs nervously. She pulls him down to her lips and kisses him, and they put their tongues on full display, lapping and sucking, beneath a heated kiss. His fingers find her pussy again and he slips inside her, coating his fingers in her juices again, no doubt. I'm a fucking mess, consumed by a desperate lust to claim her body. I give up fighting and fully give into the need for the filthy dabauchery overtaking every thought that's crossing my mind.

“Are you this wet just for me or for him too?” Folio asks her, grinding his cock on her thigh as he braces himself against the couch while thrusting up inside mer. “Both,” she admits quickly and honestly. Folio’s head lowers, and he releases a deep grunt, overtaking her lips again. “If I wasn’t so turned on by it, I’d be fucking pissed,” he admits. Pulling his fingers out, he rips her panties off, purposely throwing them at my feet. I look up into the face of my mirror image, disgusted by the smug grin on his face.

"Fuck you, Folio," I mumble. His mouth twitches an he gives me a lop-sided grin. But as soon as he turns away, I snatch the panties and shove them into my pocket.

Keeping his eyes focused on her, she gasps loudly the moment Folio thrusts his fingers back inside her more violently than before. He doesn’t give her time to react as he slams his lips into her and they take a moment to devour each other again. I groan, toss my head back, and palm myself again, trying to alleviate the growing pressure that’s rapidly building.

“Oh god, baby, that feels so good,” she moans, arching her back and bucking her hips while reaching for Folio. He comes back into her embrace, kissing her and praising her while giving her what she wants with just his fingers. “I know you like this, baby, but I’m dying to taste you,” he mumbles against her lips. “I wanna eat you and make you cum on my tongue, just like I did this morning,” he grins, pulling his fingers out of her one more time.

My heart is racing over what I’m about to see. Folio glances over at me, checking to see if I'm still watching, and once he's satisfied, he turns back to her “Noah’s watching, baby. You got to show him how good I can make you cum, show him who owns this sweet pussy of yours." She sighs, as he places gentle kisses on her belly. "Tease him sweetheart. Make him want you." Folio inches his way down her body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. She places her hands on either side of head, guiding him along her body, tangling her fingers in his hair once he finds her clit.

She allows her legs to fall wide open, revealing that sweet, decadent spot of hers that is the center of all her pleasure. My jaw drops at the sight of it. It's pink, wet and so fucking beautiful. I lick my lips, parting them in desperation to feel it beneath my tongue.

The feeling is too much. I need to get off from watching this. It's the only thing that will satisfy me. Like an addict craving his addiction, I quickly undo the strings to my pants, freeing my hard swollen shaft, I pump it a few times, sighing loudly as a copious amount of precum coats my fingers, creating the perfect lubricant for what I'm about to do. I run my hand over the tip, letting my head fall back, the moment I see Folio dive in fully masked, sliding his tongue up her slit, sucking her clit, slowly.

Her breath catches in the back of her throat, arching her back the moment Folio take her swollen bud between his teeth and flicks it with the tip of his tongue. She cries out, moaning his name like a prayer grinding her cunt against his face in a desperate attempt to feel more.

This is so fucking wrong, watching them like own personal porno, I can't pry my eyes away. I don't want to, honestly. The feeling rushing through my veins is unlike anything other feeling I've ever felt. "Oh, fuck," I moan, taking my balls in my hand and rubbing them around in my hand. My legs are trembling as they try to hold my weight up, biting back moans that are desperately trying to escape.

My heart’s pounding in my chest. I can’t suppress the arousal building in me or how good it feels sliding my hands in and out over my erection. I want to cum so badly, but not yet. “Oh fuck, Noah!” I raise my head only to find her staring at me. She's grinning in surprise, while pushing Folio's face harder into core. “You have no idea how fucking hot you look right now.” My heart pounds against my chest from both arousal and excitement. “Yeah? Is this doing something for you, watching me get myself off while your boyfriend eats you out?" "Mmmhmm, yeah is does," she moans, licking her lips and furrowing her brows. "Does it make you want to cum hard, baby? Do you want to cum for just Folio or for me too?"

Her pants are becoming more erratic, her chest heaving in and out faster. "I want to cum for both of you," she whines. "I want, I, oh fuck baby," she moans, running her hands over the back Folio's head , fingers through his hair, gripping and pulling it. “Good fucking god," I breath, releasing an unrestrained moan. Folio stops and looks over at me. His mouth is soaked and so is the part of the mask where his nose is. 

“Like what you see, brother?” he asks, voice deep and raspy. “She tastes fucking amazing,” he informs me, looking up at her. He kisses the insides of her thighs before she pushes him back into his place between her legs, where he dives right back in, devouring her. "Nick, baby, I'm so close." "I know you are. I can feel how tight you are," he says, laying his hand on her abdomen. "You're clenching around my tongue. I need you to cum for me, Sweetheart."

Folio inserts his fingers inside her again, thrusting in and out while licking and swallowing up her juices. "Nick, I'm about to cum, baby. Shit," she moans, breathing erratically. Her thighs tighten around Folio's the moment her orgasm hits her, making her swear, while crying out Folio's name. "Don't stop, baby, she pants, holding him in place as she cums in his mouth like he wanted her too. I clench my teeth and groan, right before releasing my cum and spilling all over my hand and the floor. 

“Goddammit,” I hiss, dropping to my knees, completely out of breath. "Fuck me, motherfucker!"

I’ve never made myself cum that hard before. When I look over at them, Folio is wiping his face and she’s watching me with an alluring look that I never thought I’d see in her eyes.

“That was so fucking hot, Sebastian,” she confesses with a grin. I’m still trying to catch my breath, but manage a light chuck as Folio tosses the towel at me.

“Look at her. She's so fucking gorgeous sitting there with her head back and mouth opened, waiting for our cum.” 

I stroke her face, humming in approval when she leans into my touch. The sight of her on her knees before the two of us, with her hands tied behind her back and wearing nothing but her black bra is a sight to behold; one that I'd been dying to see since the day I first met her. “Who’s going first?” Folio asks. “Why don't you go first? Show me how good her mouth can fuck.” Folio nods, undoing the button of his black jeans and stepping out of them. 

I caress her face as she looks up at me. I stare at her, wondering what the hell I was thinking when I made the choices that I did. What made me think I could find anything better than her. Folio steps up beside me wearing nothing but the black ski mask with eyes focused solely on his girl who’s about to give him what we're craving. Her face is flushed with a shade of light pink covering her cheeks and the way she licks her lips when Folio moves closer to her has my head running in circles.

Without hesitating, she takes him in her mouth, a little bit a first and then sliding down the whole length of his shaft, completely absorbing him. Folio throws his head back in complete ecstasy as she begins to suck his cock, glancing over at me with a grin. “She’s that good?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off her and the way her tongue slides up and down the back of his shaft.  “Yeah, she’s that fucking good,” Folio growls. His hand lowers to her head as he brushes the loose hair out of her face. “Fuck me, baby, god dang,” he sighs. Slowly, he starts degradingly and savagely fucking her mouth, holding the base of it so she can take all of him until she's deep throating him. She gags when it hits the back of her throat, causing excess saliva to seep out and trickle down her chin.

Reaching down, I can't help but squeeze my cock again as I imagine her on her knees before me, and those red lips wrapped around my dick. Folio grabs her by the hair and holds her in place, picking up the pace of fucking her mouth, aiming to get the satisfaction he wants from her. The room is filled with her loud muffled moans and Folio’s harsh grunts and words of praise that have her in tears. “That’s it baby girl, take it all. Fuck my cock, just like that,” he growls, watching her intently. “Use your teeth, baby.” He hisses, releasing a feral grunt. “Drag them down my cock. God...damn, yeah that’s it baby, like that, he praises through endless pants. He pounds into her mouth releasing a string of curses. “You like it, I know you do. You love it when I fuck your mouth like this."

It's not much long that his thrusts start to grow sloppy and weak, signaling he’s nearing the edge. “Baby girl, you're making me cum," he moans. His thrusts grow shorter and softer. “Shit, shit, fuck baby, don't stop, don't stop, I'm gonna cum, fuck!” he yells again before pulling out of her mouth and spilling his cum all over her breasts and thighs. 

“Ughh, fuck baby,” Folio pants, bracing himself against her shoulder. She’s spent for the moment. Her head hangs low while her body collapses. “I’ll get a towel.” “Leave it,” I order Folio. "I love the sight of her so fucking wrecked." I slip out of my pants and briefs and shamelessly stand before as she slowly raises her head and looks at me, following her eyes as they rake over my body. The soaking up the the ink covering my skin and I don't miss the way the corners of her mouth slightly turn up and her tongue passes over her lips like she knows she's about to taste something delicious. What I’m about to give her will leave a bitter craving in her mouth that she’ll never be able to get enough of. “Look at me,” I order, pulling her head up by the hair with one hand while the other one pumps my shaft. 

The look in her eyes is mesmerizing. It's soft yet strong and intoxicating making me feel like I could drown in her very existence. "My turn, Princess." "You're turn Sebastian," she echo's swallowing hard. Carefully, I drag my eyes over her face, studying her features and seeing things about her I never have before. "How did are you so beautiful?" My forehead creases. "How did you get so gorgeous?" I can't help but snicker, making her smile. "I've always loved your smile," tracing her lips with my thumb. "I've always loved your eyes." Now I'm the one smiling.

I lean down and kiss her, surprised when I feel her kiss me back. "So you do like what you see, don't you?” She remains quiet, but her expression is very readable.  “Yeah, you do. I know you do,” I grin. “Does the mask make you wet, pretty girl? Does it make the inside of your thighs shake and your pussy clench at the thought of me spreading you open wide and taking you, giving you all of me, right down to the very base of my cock.” 

"Jesus, Noah," she groans, swallowing hard again. I shake my head. "No baby. His face might be on my back, but it's me whose in your presence now. I can be your god if you want though," I tease her. The quiet little whimpers that leave her are enough for me. "Worship me, Princess. And I promise you when I claim your sweet pussy as mine, I'll worship it and make you feel like a queen." A strained cry leaves her.

I message my cock, milking as much pre-cum out of it as I can, letting it seep onto my fingers. “Open up,” I order her, bringing my fingers to her mouth, and she obeys immediately, allowing me to slip my fingers in. I watch in awe as she sucks them, using her tongue to scrap herself off my skin and swallow. "What the fuck," I mutter, shaking my head. "You’re such a fucking tease,” humming so low it comes out in almost a growl. “Alright, Princess,” I say giving my shaft a few quick pumps, as I stand over of her.

“If you can use that sweet mouth of yours to suck my fingers then I’m going to use it to fuck my cock until my cum is hitting you in the back of throat and dripping down your chin," bringing my hand to the back of her head. She looks up at me and leans in, closing her eyes the moment her lips part around my cock and she slowly begins to sink down on it, taking me gently in her mouth. Her tongue glides down the backside of it, and I sigh, throwing my hands to my face.

“Oh fucking god,” I gasp. My eyes flutter closed over the sensation her mouth brings me and I bite my knuckle, choking back so many moans as she works her tongue fearlessly against my cock, giving the veins and grooves plenty of attention. Glancing down, our eyes meet. Her deep, magnet stare pierces the armor on my heart, and straight away I’m feeling things for her that I never did before. My stomach tightens, every muscle in my body tenses. My breathing grows shaky and it suddenly feels like the room is spinning. 

“Yeah, just like that,” I say on an exhale, watching her parted lips slide up and down my cock. I’m engulfed in a wet heat that keeps growing the more she sucks and hollows out her cheeks, urging me to force her head down closer to the base of my shaft. She swirls and circles it with her tongue, flicking the tip and sucking the pre-cum that seeps out. “Holy shit, baby,” I gasp, pulling back from her mouth a bit. But my eyes remain fixed on her, loving the way she closes her eyes and hums as she works my dick, sucking and taking care of me. 

“Ughh, you look so fucking beautiful with my cock in you mouth. You feel so damn good, god!” I praise her through clenched teeth. My hands move around and cup her face then snake to the back of her head again, entangling my fingers in her hair. I'm ready to use her in the most degrading way possible to get what I want.

“Fuck, baby, I need more. Suck me harder, baby, faster. That's it!" My pace is suddenly brutal as I pound into her mouth. The fact that her hands are tied together and can’t touch me makes me have to work twice as hard and be aggressive with her in order to get what I want.

“That’s it, god, fuck yes take it all baby, take it all,” moaning loudly and pressing deeper into her mouth. The tip of my cock hits the back of her throat and she gags, but I don't stop. I keep thrusting in and out of her mouth, keeping her right where I want her until I can hear her choked moans. “You’re such a dirty girl, baby, allowing me and Folio to do this to you. But you like it don’t you? Huh?” She gags again, saliva once again, sliding down her chin and dripping on her thighs. 

“Fuck yeah you do. You like to get fucked rough don’t you? You like it when I degrade you and make you feel dirty, don’t you?” I growl, panting from the burning tension building up inside me. She’s in tears, makeup running down her face and looking absolutely fucked out of her mind. “Shit, I’m not going to last much longer!” I mutter, holding her face close to my cock, pushing her harder against me. With each thrust, I feel myself flex against her tongue. I’m almost there. “Harder baby, suck it harder. Just like that! Yeah, god yes. Make me cum for you, Princess. Show me how much you want it.” 

I can’t breath, can’t concentrate on anything other but her hungry mouth fucking my cock. “Baby, fuck, I can’t,” my voice is husky and strained. I look back down at her and at the sight of her hollowed, tear stained cheeks below. The sight of her is fucking perfect, just what I want. With a loud groan and one more hard thrust into her mouth, I explode a hot wave of cum inside her mouth, hitting the back of her throat, no doubt. My hips jerk violently as she continues to suck, swallowing every drop.

“Shit baby, swallow me!” I cry out, panting heavily, I release my grip on her hair and pull out of her mouth as she slumps over where she’s kneeling. My heart is racing wildly in my chest and I feel a mixture of pain and pleasure pulsing through me. 

“Fuck Noah! What the fuck was that?” Folio scolds me, kneeling down before her. He lifts her head, wiping her mouth with his shirt. “That,” I pant while adjusting the mask, “that was the best fucking head I’ve ever had, Folio! If that’s what she gives you every time….fuck man.” Looking at her, I'm starting to think maybe I went a little too far, that maybe I was wrong about being so forceful. “Princess, are you alright?” I ask as Folio helps her up off the floor.

Her hesitation makes me worry, bringing those feelings from before back into play. I hurt her. Again, but physically this time. I just wanted to feel her on me, but never hurt her. “I’m good,” she admits, raising her face to look at me, but I don't believe her for one second. Her makeup is smeared, traces of it running down her face or smudged around her eyes. But she's still so unbelievably beautiful. “I just want to shower.”

 “We’re not done yet, you know that, right?”  She smiles as Folio undoes her restraints. “Of course we’re not. You promised to do sick, perverted things to me, remember?” She grins like the devil himself, following Folio into the bathroom, leaving me to myself with her last words hanging in the air like heavy rain clouds right before the storm.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

“That's it, lose yourself in me baby,” I coax her, slipping a finger inside her,  salivating over how wet and warm she is. “Oh my god, Noah,” she pants and cries out beneath me. Her legs are wide open for me as she grinds her wet cunt hard against my hand while my fingers are trapped inside her, fucking her walls and feeling how they clench then loosen around them. If she feels this fucking good on my fingers I can’t even imagine what she’ll feel like wrapped around my cock. 

Folio is standing beside me watching intently as I penetrate his girl with one of my long tattoo fingers, reaching places inside he never can. “Oh fuck, Noah,” she whimpers, bucking her hips. “Don't stop, please. That, right there,” she moans. “Yeah, is that the spot, Princess?” I add another finger, and thrust in and up, and she cries out, grabbing my wrist. “Yeah that's the spot, isn't it Folio?” I peer up at him and he just watches in eagerness. He's glued to the way she's moaning and working herself against my fingers. “It's different on that end isn't it?” 

Folio clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth. “Really fucking different. Shit,” he agrees, balling his hands into tight fists. Her fingers find her clit and, without shame, she begins to rub it in a weak attempt to get herself off. “No, move your hand,” I growl, pushing it away, frustrated with her for wanting to deny me the gratification. But she grabs my fingers, hooking her hand around my wrist. “If you want me to cum, then use your mouth, Noah. I want to watch you eat me.” 

Her eyes shift over to Folio and I don't miss how enthralled he is. “You're enjoying this way too much," he tells her. "Are you jealous, Nicky?" Folio raises his brows in surprise. "Maybe I am. I've watched another man invade your body enough already." Her expression softens. Arching her head back to capture him in a slow, soft kiss, she smiles weakly. “I remember one time you said you would love to be on the other end, watching someone else pleasure me.” He tries to hide his embarrassed grin. “I did say that, didn't I?” 

“Yeah, you did,” running her finger down his black mask covered cheek then turning her attention back to me. I stare at her blankly through the eye holes of my own mask, wondering just where in the hell this new found confidence she's showing has come from. “You heard me,” she says, to me, voice thick with authority. I swallow hard. “Tell me again, Princess. Tell me what you want me to do.” My eyes are glued to hers and suddenly I’m starving for her, yearning to taste her.

She sits up, bringing her partially covered breasts closer to my face. I can smell the faint scent of Folio's release from earlier, as she protrudes them out a little more for my eyes to glimpse. My mouth waters, looking at the soft, plum flesh and I envision what they'll look like once I remove their cover. I slip my tongue between my lips, thinking about how they taste, fighting the urge to slip a finger down the warm little valley between her two small breasts. She raises my face to look at her. “Eyes up her, Sebastian,” she smirks.

“Last name basis now? You keep calling me by my last name,” I grumble, looking down below as two of my fingers disappear inside her again. She moans and grinds her core against them. “We both know that's not your last name,” she mutters, sitting back against the couch, watching my hand, too. I raise my eyes to hers. “What do you want from me, Princess?” I thrust my fingers up inside her, twisting and curling them slowly while pinching her clit. Her desperate moans fill the empty silence around us as her hips rock involuntarily, 

She runs her hand down the black cloth covering face, staring at me in the mask, studying me. I sit up on my knees meeting her lips as she grabs the bottom of the mask to pull me in closer. My hands snake around her face as she continues to attack my lips and my tongue, slipping her kisses down my neck and jawline. “Goddammit,” I sigh as her lips glide over my skin. "Why are you so irresistible?" "I'm not, you just might have low standards," she laughs, licking the skin of the serpent on my neck. “Fuck that; low standards. Really?" I scowl, grabbing her face.

"You're anything but low standards, Princess." I laugh, lowering my head. "You're just that, a princess; my princess. You deserved to be worshiped, adored, revered." Her eyes bounce between mine. "And Nick does that," she convinces me, forcing a smile. I run my thumb across her cheek bone. "I know he does." "I love him, Noah." I wince from the pain her words instantly bring me. They're the death of my heart.

She leans over and plants her lips lightly on mine, distracting my from my thoughts, but I can't handle lightly. Forcing her mouth open with my tongue, I fight her for dominance and she quickly surrenders. "Tell me, what do you want from me, my princess?” She smiles against my lips, resting her forehead on mine and inhaling deeply. “I want you to eat me, Sebastian. Fuck me with that devilish tongue of yours and make me cum in your mouth” she begs. My eyes roll to the back of my head as my cock twitches and throbs between my legs. My knees weaken the more I resist her. “Not until you say, please,” I order in a throaty voice. Her answer comes out in a warm, shaky breath.  “Please, Sir.” 

Motherfucker. 

Digging my fingers deep into her tender skin, hoping it’ll leave bruises, I grab her thighs with force and yank her down until her ass is hanging off the couch. “You want me to eat out this pretty little cunt of yours, Princess?” I taunt, my words soft but the words intentionally rough. “Tongue fuck you until you're begging me to let you cum? Is that what you want?” She nods quickly, biting her lip. “Use your words, baby,” I huff, positioning myself at the center of her core.

“Yes, Noah please,” she begs, placing her hand on the back of my head. Her pussy is swollen yet still soaked and glistening from my fingers being inside her and I can smell her sex as I kiss the insides of her thighs, feeling her body jolt. “Easy, baby,” I say soothingly, blowing softly over her core. I’m aching to taste her, dying to have her bud between my teeth. I look up at her and she’s pleading with me through those warm brown eyes of hers, melting all of my resistance. Lifting both of her legs, I lay them on each of my shoulders, positioning myself perfectly at her core, and pepper the inside of it with kisses. My breath fans over her sensitive clit and she whines desperately, pathetically.

“When you’re with him, remember how hard I made you cum tonight. When you let Folio between you legs, remember the shape of my tongue deep inside you and the feeling of my mouth against your cunt long after tonight,” I whisper. She’s breathless beneath my touch as soon as I dive into her core, licking her clit slowly and running a finger through her slit. I don’t hesitate to insert two fingers, feeling her arch up off the couch, clawing the sofa cushion.

“Such a fucking perfect pussy, pretty girl.” I mumble against her sex, savoring the taste of her sweet precum. I flick her bud with my tongue, licking her up and back, then drag my covered nose aggressively up and her slit, just like I envisioned this morning. With no shame at all, she grinds against my face, letting out long, low moans as I devour her. “Oh God, Noah. Your tongue," she whines, loud and clear. "Noah, that feels so good,” she moans. “So fucking good,” panting between her short whines. Her cries become repetitive, her pants become erratic.

“She’s close,” Folio says squatting down next to me. It should feel weird as hell, him being this close to me as I have such an intimate moment with a woman, but for some reason it doesn't. Maybe because of who the woman is. In this moment, we share her. There is no line drawn to separate or establish ownership.

“Keep doing what you’re doing, especially with your fingers," he instructs me. "She loves it when I eat and fuck her at the same time.” His words give me an idea.

I let up on her for a moment and sit back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, looking over at Folio. His brown eyes are on fire with wanting her again, and the moment she looks at him that fire spreads over his entire face. She looks from Folio to me and her eyes tell me everything that she's afraid to say; she wants us both at the same time.

"She want's you to, don't you baby?" I glance at her. She a hot mess, waiting patiently to have her needs fulfilled. "You want his fingers and my mouth, don't you?" "What the fuck, Noah?" Folio scoffs. But when she doesn't disagree with me, he cocks his head, drawing his brows together. "Is that what you want, Sweetheart?" "I want you to to kiss me first, Nicky." Licking his lips, Folio crawls up her body and devours her mouth as her hands find his sides and dig their fingernails into his skin. "I do what you both, baby. I want you both to satisfy me."

He sits back down next to me, staring at her in disbelief. "What's wrong? Didn't think she was this much a freak?" Folio quietly chuckles in disbelief. "Honestly, no I didn't. But it's so fucking hot and and addictive, Noah. It's so wrong, I know, but watching you with her, how she responds to you, fuck. The feeling is so satisfying."

"So you don't mind everything I've been doing to her?" He slowly turns and looks at me. "I just don't want you to hurt her." I give him a reassuring grin. "I promise I won't hurt her anymore, Folio. Not now, not ever." He nods slightly, looking back down at his girlfriend. "I'll do anything to please you baby. If this is what you want, then this is what you'll get." "Good," she answers.

“Alright, Noah, let’s violate her together,” he agrees as an animalistic expression overtakes his eyes. “Let’s make her cum together.” I say nothing, only shift my body to give him some room.  She looks down at the two of us and just stares for a moment. Her expression is soft and wistful and I melt when she reaches down and caresses my cheek, doing the same to Folio. He takes a quick breath and leans into her touch. 

I can’t wait any longer. I pry my eyes off her and dive right back into her core, licking and sucking all of her that I can. She throws her head back, arching her back slightly, pushing her pussy harder into my face. My cock twitches and I moan, unable to get enough of her.  Folio slips two fingers at a time inside her once I sit back, plunging deep into her slippery cunt. He works his fingers against her inner walls, twisting and turning his wrist, and pulling out only to slip back in while rubbing her clit with his thumb.

Her sweet little cries quickly become needy, filthy noises as her lips spill desperate curses. Watching Folio finger fuck her is doing things to me I've never thought I’d get off on. What we’re doing is sick, it's wrong, but fuck, it feels so good. “Nicky,” she pants. “Nicky, I’m so close baby,” crying out and grabbing his wrist. “Do you want Noah to finish you? You’re so fucking tight, I know you’re close.” She quickly nods, but whimpers as soon as he slides his fingers out of her. Before he gets up, he pushes her legs apart until they’re wide open, exposing her entire core to both of us. “Oh, fuck,” I groan at the sight.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Folio says, glancing from her wet core to her face. He leans down and runs his tongue ever her entrance, licking her as if she’s candy on a stick. “Oh god, Nicky, please,” she whines, begging as she's reaching for him. Folio shakes his head, standing to his feet. “Nope, Noah’s going to finish you, sweetheart.” He glances at me, expression darkened with emotion. 

Lifting both her legs and resting them on my shoulders again, her thighs locked tight around my head, keeping me right where she wants me as I work my tongue over and deeper into her delicious pussy, lapping up her juices. Her hands snake over the back of my head and tug at the mask. I can't get enough of the way she pushes my face harder into her soaked core, mixed with my spit and her arousal. “Do you see the way I need you, Noah,” she whispers, rolling her hips against my face. "Do you feel what you do to me, taste what you put my body through?" “You only need me right now, because of how I’m making you feel, Princess, but you don’t need; you’ve never needed me.” The slow deep strokes of my tongue pull more sounds from her I never could have imagined. I begin to move with her, working her tight cunt with my tongue. "That's not true, Sebastian. I've always needed you. I always will."

I look up at her and find her staring longingly at me. There are faint tears behind her soft brown eyes. For a moment, I forget how to breath. "What does that mean, Princess?" "I don't know yet," she answers. "But for now, just use me how you want to Noah. Make my body always remember your touch. Scar me forever."

"Jesus, fuck it," I mumble, unable to fight my urges anymore. My cock need her, I need her. I lower her legs and stand up, pulling her to her feet. “What’s happening, Noah? What are you doing?” she asks, anxiously. I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, not surprised by how light she is. “This is going to be cold,” I tell her, sitting her down on the table. She gasps. “Fuck that’s cold.” “Told you,” I smirk. She just glares at me. I undo the clasp of her bra and take it off her, throwing it on the floor. I groan at the sight of her tits, so perky, so pale. I grab both of the them and roll them around in my hands, basking in the feeling of them. Pushing her down, I lay her on her back, taking a moment to observe her beautiful body spread out on full display.

She purposely lets her legs fall open, exposing everything to me, slipping a finger inside herself. Her head falls back as I watch her prod her own entrance. "Jesus, fuck!" I grind my teeth while shaking my head. "What are you trying to accomplish, baby?" Her laughter fills the air. "Making you and Folio cum," she states so casually. "I'm almost there, Sweetheart," Folio claims. He gets up from the chair he's sitting in and comes over to us. "Why are you such a tease?" "I'm not. I'm not doing anything you two haven't seen before." "Yeah, but we've never see you do it. That's the difference." She doesn't respond, only continues prodding herself.

“Does she do this a lot?” Folio grins, watching the smile creep over her face as she dances her hand around her hard nipples and glistening pussy. "I've watched her get herself off like this only a few times. She’s a tease, a temptress, but fuck me… she’s perfect.” Folio’s voice catches in the back of his throat and he clears it. “I love her, Noah. I’m so fucking in love with her that the thought of loosing her keeps me up at night sometimes. I'm scared she’ll leave me for someone better?” I huff a laugh.

“You’re crazy. There’s no one better for her than you, Folio.” “Yeah there is, there’s you.” My body tenses. I shake my head fiercely. “No, you're wrong. I’m not good for her, Nick. I’m everything she doesn’t deserve. I’m too toxic for her. You’re good to her. You’re everything she needs and more.” We both stare at her, watching as she sits up on her elbows, waiting.

“She’s never never gonna give you up, Folio. You have her heart; completely.” I pat him on the shoulder. Closing the gap between me and her, I lean down and kiss her. “You’re impossible,” I chide her, running my finger up her slit and inserting it inside her. Her hands wrap around my wrist, pushing me further into her and I feel my middle finger hit that soft, spongy spot, causing her to sit up and moan, clenching her jaw.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” She nods rapidly, squeezing her eyes closed. “Fuck, Noah,” she breaths, staring into my eyes. She's so close to me, I can feel her warm breath on my lips. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Princess. I shouldn’t have been so cruel to you. God! I’m so fucking sorry.” She pulls me into her and attacks my lips, nipping them before our tongues crash together. Hers slides over mine, breathing into my mouth. 

I push her back down and grab her hips, pulling her down closer to my cock. “I just want to get my tip wet,” I tell her as her eyes grow wide. "I’m not ready for you to cum on my cock yet, baby. I still need to make you cum in my mouth. But I just want to see how this feels,” I mutter, encircling my tip around her clit. “Ah, oh god,” she softly cries, watching me as I begin to tease her. 

“Fuck, Noah, you’re a lot bigger,” she gasps when I push into her entrance with the crown of my cock. “Damn, baby," I groan. Just her entrance alone feels heavenly. I drive the head in and out of her pussy, teasing her to the point that she’s a writhing mess beneath me. “Noah,” she pants, throwing her hands over her face, dragging them down slowly. 

“Noah, I,” she moans as I push into her again, making me grunt. “Ah, fuck, please, Noah, make me cum. I need it so badly,” she pleads with a whine. “Okay, Princess, since you said please.” I drop to my knees and hold her legs up, instantly diving into her pussy with only one thing in mind. I push further into her, curling my tongue as I seal my mouth against her wet lips, sucking and working my face hard against her. “That’s, ohhh, f-fuck Noah!” Her breathing is erratic and her cries are louder. I raise my head, but replace my mouth with my fingers and slide them in and out fast and hard. “Don’t fucking fight it, Princess. Don’t fight how fucking much you want to cum for me.” Her eyes meet mine and I see that aroused flicker in them.   

I sink back down and continue to fuck her, alternating between my tongue and finger, knowing how close she is. I moan against her core. I can’t get enough of the way she tastes, the way she smells. Her sex is addictive and I just want to die right here between her thighs. She’s so sinfully delicious I never want to stop. “Oh god, don’t stop. Fff-fuck, Noah!” she cries. “I’m so close, don’t stop.” “Cum for me baby. Feed me. I’ll swallow all of you.” I beg, digging my fingertips deeper into her thighs.

Finally her orgasm explodes in my mouth, ripping through her savagely. She rides my face all through her release just like she did for me earlier, willingly lapping her entire mess. But this satisfies nothing in me. It’s not enough. I want more. I want to penetrate her insides, violate every part of her until I have her crying, screaming, and begging me to stop. I want her pathetically at my mercy Fuck! I need to fuck her hard; now.

I climb to my feet and before she even has time to recover, I grab her arm and throw her over my shoulder again, grabbing the rope as I make my way to the bedroom, tossing her on the bed once there, climbing up behind her. Folio enters, watching as I get on my knees and shove her down into the mattress to tie her up. “What are you doing to her, Noah,” he asks hesitantly. “I’m restraining her again,” I answer calmly.

“Why?” "Because I want too and because I can." I slip my arm under her and lift her ass up higher. It’s pale and beautiful, like a porcelain trinket you shouldn’t touch because it might break. Well, fuck that. I raise my hand and slap her ass cheek, groaning the instant she shrieks. “You like that, don’t you Princess. I knew you would. I know you like it rough.” I do it again, this time to the other side. Her moan echoes through the room. "Fuck, Noah."

The sight of her face down and ass up awakens the inner monster in me, bringing out the depraved hunger in me of wanting to see her squirm and writhe beneath the force of my desire. “You like it don’t you baby?” She whimpers, but answers that she does. Her confession surprises Folio as he enters the room. "Holy shit, Noah. Did you spank her?" "Twice," I admit. He looks down at her, caressing her back. “You like Noah being rough with you; tying you up and spanking you, baby?" “Yes,” she quickly admits. 

 Even through the mask, I can see a deep craving settle in his eyes. “Come on, Folio. I know you have it in you. That one night in the kitchen when you had her bent over the kitchen table was insane. Don’t deny it felt great.”

He glances at me with a darkened look. “You wanna feel his hand on your ass again?” he teases, running his hand over the smooth red skin of her ass cheek, watching her cringe.

He leans down and kisses the redness, softly gliding his lips, tongue, and the tip of his nose over her skin and making her shudder. A soft moan slips past her lips, making my cock twitch. I’m swollen hard again and in need of a desperate release. “I want to feel yours, baby, she whines, practically begging him for it. 

Folio doesn’t bother to answer. He just raises his hand and lets it come down with a loud slap. She screams, followed by another ungodly moan and Folio groans, throwing his head back while palming his cock. “Feels fucking good, doesn’t it,” I chuckle, gloating in the fact that I was right and he knows it. He looks over at me, but doesn’t say anything. His eyes say it all; he’s turned on by her pain.

“You want it rough baby? You want me to make it hurt?” he growls, letting his hand come down on her again. “Fuck, Nicky,” she cries, burying her face in the mattress. He kneels down at the side of the bed, brushing hair out of her eyes. She shakes her head at whatever he says to her and slides his hand into one of hers that’s still loosely bound behind her, squeezing it and kissing her on the lips before standing back up, taking his mask off. 

“I know I told you anything goes, but I swear to god Noah, if you hurt her in any way that makes her feel uncomfortable,” “I won’t, I promise, Nick. You should know that. I love her.” His eyes grow wide. “Don’t look surprised. You and I both know you’re not. You’ve known for a long time.” “Why do you think I suggested this?” I nod. “I’m just not used to hearing you say it.”

I run my hand gently over her bottom, over the red welted hand prints of both mine and Folio’s and notice how her body flinches from my touch. It strikes an ache in my heart. “It’s not going to change anything though, Noah, you know that, right? None of this will. After tonight, you and her will have your shit worked out and she and I can finally move on together; finally bury the past.” I look back down at her and run my hand up her spine, only to feel her skin prickle from my touch.  

“But it does, Folio. It changes everything even if it’s only for tonight. I don’t think she’s going to want to give me up that easily after tonight, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to either.” “You have no choice, Noah. She’s mine.” Without another word, Folio walks off, heading towards the bathroom. 

“Noah,” she calls to me softly. I climb onto the bed behind her and wrap my arm around her waist, lifting her up to her knees. I lean over her back to kiss the side of her face, but she turns her head quick enough for our lips to collide.

The heat that engulfs us is overwhelming. I can’t stop the way my tongue immediately consumes the inside of her mouth tasting what remains of my cum from earlier or the way my hands snake around her throat, fingers trailing covetously over her skin. She whimpers quietly beneath my kiss and my touch. “I think you liked being spanked by me a little too much, didn’t you.” She shakes her head, but I reach under her and feel her warm, soaked cunt.

“Lier,” I whisper in her ear. You wanna feel my hand on your ass again? You want it to hurt?” Her muffled moan is the only answer I need. Shoving her back down on the bed, I spank her again, harder this time and she bucks, screaming into the mattress. “I knew you like it rough.” “Maybe I do,” she fires back, choking back a moan, “but I hate fucking mind games, Noah!” 

Her words hit me in the chest like a gut punch to the stomach. “You fucked with my head for so long and now you’re fucking with my heart, and I can’t handle it anymore.” “I know, okay! I know the things I did to you, the mind games I played with you were wrong. And I know that what we’re doing now is wrong! I'm sorry! Okay! I’m fucking sorry.” I can’t breathe. My chest is so tight and I feel like the walls are closing in on me. 

I hear her breath catch in the back of her throat as she chokes back a sob. “I just fucking wanted you so much, Princess, but I was scared you didn't want me,” I confess no longer caring how desperate or pathetic I sound to her. 

Unable to control the urge, I slide one of my fingers deep into her cunt, feeling how drenched in arousal she is as she clenches around me, making me groan in an aching neediness to possess her. “I thought that I wasn’t good enough for you. I thought that if I was mean enough to you it would change how my heart felt about you.”

Folio walks back into the room, and I can feel his eyes on my back but I no longer care about him or his feelings. I only care about one thing right now; the woman beneath me. This is our moment. This is where we work our shit out. We’ll just fuck it out of each other until neither one of us is in pain anymore. “And did it work?” she asks, barely above a whisper, gasping when I pull my finger out of her.  

“…. No. It only made me want you more,” I say without hesitation, sucking her juice off my finger. A single tear slides down her cheek, causing my heart to plummet to the pit of my stomach. “Noah, you have me right now to do whatever you want to me, to make me feel whatever, however you want.” My hand around her waist drifts to the warmth of her pussy again. She bucks her hips and moans at the feeling of my hand all over her soaked cunt, my long fingers slipping and sliding in and out of her. She feels so fucking good. 

“Jesus,” I pant, licking my dry lips. I'm rutting against her ass like a pathetic animal in heat, looking for any way to satisfy the aching swelling of my cock. “I don't want to hurt you.” “Then don’t. But I can take a little more just this last time. So fuck me like you mean in Noah. Fuck me like you’ll never have me again, because you won’t.”

Her words are a blow to my heart, one that I fully deserve. But I’m too overwhelmed with a need to be inside her to care about that right now. All I want to do now is do what she told me to do; fuck her like I mean it. I raise her up until her back is against my chest and her hands graze the side of my cock, making me buck against her. 

Wrapping me giant hands around her small breasts, I squeeze them vigorously like a depraved mad man shifting my long body awkwardly around just to take part of one in my mouth. I devour as much of it as I can from the angle I'm at, taking her pebbled nipple between my teeth and suck on it. Her labored breathing has me sitting back and her head falling against my shoulder. 

Running my hands over her sides, I slide them up and over her nipples. Her breath hitches as she inhales and I can hear the quiet moans that leave her every time I drag the middle of my palms over the pebbled flesh, pinching them hard between my thumb and finger. She thrusts her ass against me, rutting my cock

She’s pathetic, desperate, and needy, yet beautiful, resilient, and irresistible. I’m obsessed with her. Taking her breasts fully into my hands, I knead the warm flesh feeling the aching and throbbing in my balls from the need to have my cock buried inside her. Our breathing together escalates until we’re both panting and writhing in each other's arms. 

“Fuck me,” she whimpers, running her lips over my jaw line. “I need you in me. I want you, Noah.” “I should make you say please,” I say, my voice husky and dry. She moans when I pinch her nipples and rubs her ass against my cock again. “Dammit Noah, just stop talking and fuck me,” she seethes.

“Fuck,” I hiss, “but I like you desperate and demanding, so fucking needy,” I growl. I let her go and shove her back down on the mattress, lifting her ass up again and positioning where I want her. I grab the base of her neck, pressing down to hold her firm against the mattress and align my cock up to her entrance. “Say it again, Princess,” I order, this time with as much aggression that I can pull out of me.

“Fuck me, Noah, please.” “Louder!” “Noah,” she softly cries. “So Folio can hear it, Princess.” “God! Fuck me Noah. I want you to fuck me!” I look over at Folio, and he’s sitting on the couch, watching us intently. But the second his eyes glance over me, he lowers his head, throwing his hands over top. “I’m going to ruin the fuck out of you, Princess.”

“Then ruin me.”

Fuck. 

Everything falls apart after that. My erratic hunger takes control of my senses, blurring the lines between respecting or degrading her body. I told her I don't want to hurt her, but that doesn’t mean I won't.

In the mask, I’ve become someone else; a bolder, darker me. It’s the version that takes over my mind at night when I’m all alone and sexual hunger is the only thing I can think about. It’s the version of me I’ve never let anyone see; until now. 

I drive the head of my cock into her entrance, seeing that I really am a lot bigger than her tight hole. I take a moment to stretch her some, in and out slowly so I don’t hurt her too much. But the further in I go, the harder it is to come back out. I want to stay in her, sink all the way into her until her ass and my groin are inseparable. 

“The first time I touched you, you were so wet for me, soaked in your arousal.” I run my hand up her back, feeling her shudder, pressing harder into her. Her cries are alluring. “Then I heard you moan when you had my dick in your mouth and you swallowed every drop of my cum like a good little slut that you are.” I slowly fuck into her, forcing my cock deeper into her. “Fuck, Noah!” she cries. 

Folio’s watching me, eyes staring hard at us, as I'm about to fully fuck his girlfriend. I pull out of her, feeling her legs trembling. “Spread your legs more, Princess. I want to see.” My voice is like gravel, filled with lust. I’m aching so badly, my hardened cock throbbing from the slow torture even more than before. 

With her ass raised high and legs spread apart, her pussy is very visible to me. It's pink and glistening wet with her arousal I dip the tip of my cock inside her again, just to see her reaction and she pushes back instantly, rutting against it like I knew she would. “Your pussy is aching for me right now,” I mutter, thrusting my tip against her entrance. “You want it baby, well then here you go.”

With one hard vicious thrust, I enter her, letting her neck go and grabbing her hips as I pull back and give her another single, wild and aggressive thrust that makes her scream my name. “That’s it, Princess, scream my name,” I coax her. Another thrust. Fuck! “Holy shit, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around me! Goddamn, you feel incredible. So tight, so fucking tight!" I growl as I start to fuck her in the true sense of the word until I find a rhythm that fits us. 

Her cries are loud and brutal, turning me on to the point I grow and grunt like a feral animal each time I slam back into her, coating my cock in her juices. “God you fucking love it like this, don’t you, Princess.” “Yes! Ughh I love it, fuck, Noah, I love it.” “Yeah, I know you are a pretty girl. You like my cock fucking you like this, like a fucking animal, filling you in ways Folio never can.” She screams my name again, as I lift her ass higher, allowing me to fuck up into her deeper and hit that soft spot inside her again.

“Scream my name baby, that’s it!” I yell, plowing into her from behind. For long minutes, the only sound is our heavy breathing, the creaking of the bed, and the slapping of flesh hitting flesh. I’m desecrating her like I wanted to, with the depravity of my mind and body, imprinting the shape of my cock into her cunt. She won’t ever be able to forget how I feel inside her. “Louder! Scream fucking louder for me,” I growl out through clenched teeth. Her desperate moans turn into a scream, but it’s still not good enough. 

“We both know you can be louder than that, baby.” I raise my other hand and let it come down hard on her ass, smacking the pail skin again, marking a favorite spot on her that I love. It earns me the sound I’ve been looking for. “There it is! God-fucking- dammit,” I growl again, “Noah,” she pants, moaning louder. “Right there,” she cries out. “Don’t stop! Right there!” I can feel her pussy clenching my cock, telling me she’s about to cum.

“You’re nothing but a fucking little whore for me, aren’t you, Princess. You’ll let me fuck you however I want, especially if I can make that pretty pink pussy cum all over my tongue or my cock. Am I right, baby,” I growl, lifting her ass up higher to fuck her at a different angle; deeper and rougher. “Jesus, Noah!” she screams, as I find a different rhythm and position to fuck her brutally, shoving her thighs further apart as I’m hammering harder into her pussy. “Fuck,” I murmur, panting. “Fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” 

She’s gasping and crying, moaning my name over and over. “Noah,” she whimpers. “Say it again, Princess,” I growl, plunging deep into her pussy. “Fuck! Noah!” she gasps. “Who’s fucking you, baby,” grunting through another thrust. “Oh god!” she cries when I hit her g-spot. “You are, Noah. You are!” 

I grab her hair and yank her back against me. Her hands are still bound and her tangled fingers hit my chest as I lock her hip between me and the mattress. I pull out of her soaking wet cunt only to slam back in with deep force, tangling my hands into her hair even more. I let out a strained moan repeating the hard thrust again, feeling her reaction against it. “You can take it! I know you can!”

Another loud moan rips through her, echoing in the room. It’s the very thing I need to push harder into and begin to truly fuck her like she deserves; fast and relentlessly. 

Folio slips the black ski mask on and watches us from across the room, seated in the comfort of the gray couch that’s pushed up against the wall. Moments ago I watched him finger fuck her as I at her out until she came all over my face. It was so pornographic, deranged and fucked up what he and I did to her at the same time but holy fuck was it satisfying. It made every desire of possessing her mind and body come alive, fully waking the demon I’d been trying so hard to keep away. 

“What’s wrong, Folio? Don’t you like what you see? Listen to her! She sounds so beautiful, just like this morning,” I taunt him, using the girl below me for my pleasure alone. She’s trying to hold out and not cum, but at the pace I’m fucking her at, she won’t last much longer. I feel the familiar build up in my groin, telling me I won’t wither. My grunts are abundant, my breathing is heavy.

Spitting on my fingers, I reach around and find that spot of her clit and rub it, knowing fully well it’s all she needs to push her over the edge. “Oh god, Noah, fuck! Noah, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Folio stands before her, completely wrecked from everything he’s watching. He says nothing, just silently watches as his girlfriend comes apart for me.

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” “Yeah, Noah, please,” she begs. I kiss her shoulder and give her the okay. “Alright, then cum for me baby. Cum so I can spill myself all over you!” Finally, her pussy gives in and she explodes around my cock, screaming my name as she does. Her body is trembling as I continue fucking her through her orgasm, feeling that same familiar pressure.

“Shit, goddammit Princess, I’m about to cum, f-fuck!” I growl thrusting hard into her one more time, ripping the black ski mask off, before pulling out and shoving her body back down on the mattress, spilling my seed over her ass and lower back. Completely out of breath I look up at Folio and grin wickedly at him before collapsing over top of her.

“I had the whole damn world and I gave it all away/What did I think I would save?/For better or for worse, this is my burden to take'/Cause I'm the only one to blame/You're so much better off/With nothing but memories”

-The Fountain-

“Do you know how good it feels to have you lying here so vulnerable in my arms?” Her words cut my heart wide open. I close my eyes, absorbing the feeling of her fingertips caressing the skin of my face, over my lips, and down my neck. I slip a hand beneath her head and raise her up to meet my mouth, kissing her gently, slowly as our tongues massage one another’s. 

A chill runs over my body from her hands running down my back and over my ass, making me shiver. My body is laying over top of hers. She has one leg locked around one of mine while I have her other one spread out and my knee gently pressed against her core. She’s tired, exhausted, and spent from everything that Folio and I have put her through. 

I’ve disposed of the mask, no longer hiding behind the face of anger. I’m unguarded, a complete open book for her now and I’m terrified. I’ve never let her see me like this and I’m not sure how I feel about it. I kiss her again, taking my time to taste every part of her mouth and tongue that I can. As I stare into her soft eyes, I no longer see the resentment for me in them. I only see love and compassion. What changed? I’ve been horrible to her for the last few hours, hurting her, degrading her, saying vile and mean things to her and yet, she’s right here beneath me, even though she doesn’t belong to me. 

“So give me something beautiful/So give me something else/I need another miracle/I really need some help, I need a miracle”

-Miracle

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” My apology catches her off guard. She frowns, expression ridden with confusion. “I was stupid and inconsiderate of you, of your heart. I tried to blame everything on you and I hurt you so badly.” I try to breathe through the panic rising in my chest, but it’s hard to. “Noah, don’t,” she says, closing her eyes.

“I know, I know, I’m not, fuck! God, this is painful.” I drop my head to her chest, and she sweetly presses me against her. My cheek lays partially on her breast, close enough to her nipple. I rub the end of my nose against it and I feel her hum in approval, and then I lick it, swirling around it with the tip of my tongue. She sighs, moaning softly and arching her back a little, encouraging me to take the whole thing into my mouth. 

Gently sucking her tit, my fingers find her pussy, and knowing it so well now, I slip two fingers inside her, sliding them over her inner walls, so wet and warm; still. I fuck her cunt slowly and as sweetly as I can, watching the mix of expressions that wash over her beautiful face. “Noah, what are you doing,” she breaths while I attack her neck with kisses, slightly covered with small purple bruises. “What does it feel like I'm doing? It doesn’t hurt does it?

She softly moans, shaking her head when my thumb circles her clit. She digs her nails into my biceps. That's when I notice her tears. Her eyes are shut tight, but the proof of hurt slides down the sides of her face. “Hey, look at me,” nudging her face with mine. Her eyes open. They're glazed over with tears. My eyes dart between hers, trying to find the answers I'm looking for. Her fingers find my lips and I kiss their tips.

“I waited you out, Noah. I waited until I hit the bottom.” “But I drowned you out, didn't I?” She doesn't say anything, just pulls me down and slips her tongue in my mouth, kissing me like she needs all the air in my lungs. “Why did you pretend not to notice? Not to care? You saw the pain and the confusion in me. You knew you were hurting me. Why didn't you stop? We could've been together, Noah. This could've been our life.” 

Watching her tears fall is destroying me. Every teardrop is a stab to the chest that cuts open the wound that I realize has never healed. “I don't know,” is the only answer I can give her. I can't look her in the eyes any longer, so I turn away, digging into my eyes with my thumb and index finger. “You were good enough, Noah, for me. You were everything I wanted. And I wanted you so fucking bad. I needed you and you just fucking left me.” “I know, okay,” I snap, weeping softly. The pain I feel is too much. I don’t want to feel it anymore. 

“I know what I did to you, and I have to fucking live with that choice for the rest of my life.” Slipping my hands around her face, I sit up and pull her into my lap. Nothing else around us seems to exist right now. I’m lost in the brokenness I feel, lost in the idea of what could’ve been, but what is at the moment just for a few more hours. Right now, she’s mine; only mine. I don’t care about what comes later. 

I’m hard for her again. I want to feel her cum on my cock one more time, but this time I want to watch her. “Noah,” she whispers, her breath shaky and weak. I slide my fingers through her folds and she’s already soaked. I lift her slightly, aligning her pussy with cock and shove myself into her, feeling instant gratification. “Uh, fuck, I like this position,” I sigh as she smiles with a light laugh and starts thrusting herself hard into me. “Noah, oh, damn.” “Yeah, I know,” I grunt. Her pace quickens, letting me know she wants to be in control.

“You want to take over? You wanna ride me, baby?” She nod’s quickly “Yeah of course you do. Alright, come on,” I say shifting myself around without coming out of her and laying on my back. “Alright, pretty girl, ride me. Make me cum for you,” I challenge her. She grabs my hands and places them on her breasts as she begins moving up and down, working my cock inside her warm cunt. The feeling is indescribable. It makes me moan, curse, dig my fingers and nails into her thighs. “God dammit, Princess, that’s it. Fuck my cock just like that. God you’re pussy fucks me so good.” Her soft moans quickly become soft screams, which are suddenly silenced by Folio’s lips on hers. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her face back towards him, devouring her lips and her tongue. 

“Make him cum, sweetheart, so I can finally have you back.” Folio’s eyes shift to mine and as much as I want to hate him and be angry at him, I can’t. It wasn’t part of the deal. I have to give her back. She doesn’t belong to me. She turns back to me, lowering herself to kiss me, dragging her lips and tongue across the skin of my neck. Taking me hands, she holds them on either side of my head, locking her fingers tight around mine, and starts to fuck me. Slow at first, fully talking my heart forever with each bite to my neck that she takes. Then her pace quickens and she fucks me harder.

“Oh fuck, baby, don’t stop,” I tell her, staring straight into her eyes. I can feel her pussy tightening around me as my cock twitches. She’s close. With every move she’s pulling my cum closer and closer to the tip with her tightness hugging it like a warm glove. I can’t push the feeling back any longer. The heat in my groin, the tingle in my cock, my sensitive tip, and the dead giveaway… my balls fucking ache.

“God, Princess,” I pant. I’m dying to touch her, but she still has my hands pinned down. “Is this how you fucking felt, tied up?” “Worse.” “Fuck! I’m sorry! Let me go, please. I want to touch you.” “No.” I growl. “Let me go, now!” With a few more thrusts, she lets up, releasing my arms. I gather her in my arms right as I watch her cum on my cock for the first time. The way she bites her lip, throwing her head back and milking herself by grinding so hard on my cock, is all it takes for me to reach my end. 

“I wanna cum inside you,” I pant. Still cumming herself, she clings to me and whispers in my ear “the fucking fill me, Sebastian.” “Holy fuck!” I cry, releasing my load inside her, filling her fully like she wants. I squeeze her tight, burying my face in the crook of her neck, feeling her kisses on the side of my face. “I love you, Noah,” she says breathlessly. This is her goodbye. “The past is over. Let's move on. I wanna move on.” 

Kissing my lips one more time, I close my eyes as she climbs off of me, letting go me, and I fall back into the comfort of the bed. She really did let me go that easily; after everything I said to her. I’m exhausted; physically and mentally. I turn my head and see my black ski mask laying next to me. I pick it up, bring it to my face and breathe in deeply. It smells like her. I let the tears fall silently as I think about her, wondering what our lives are going to look like once the three of us leave this place. I know I won't be able to look at her the same, I won’t be able to watch her and Folio together and not feel jealous, envying him every single time he goes to bed at night. I know this love I have for her could ruin me, but I can't stop. And even if I could, would I? She and I are like fire and ice, destined to collide, but never meant to be together. 

She left me. Just like I left her. She destroyed me. Just like I destroyed her. And as I lay here alone, listening to the sounds of their love making coming from the bathroom, I suddenly feel so empty without her. Even though she was never mine, losing her broke my heart.

I'm so afraid/That the walls that I have made have locked me in/I'm not okay/But I can try my best to just pretend/So will you wait me out until I let you down?/So will you wait me out until I let you down?

Just Pretend (Acoustic)

[hydraposeidon]

Sooo my good friend @tibialtybalt has been talking about this podcast The Silt Verses. And its been very enjoyable conversations even though I know absolutely nothing beyond what they have told me.

So naturally when discussing it today, my brain decided to go brrr and make a Piano Man parody for this, with the little information i have and could drag out of them. Intended to be from Falkners Pov? Here it is folks, dont murder me pls.

Trawlerman (Piano man)

It's nine o'clock on a Holy Day

The congregation marches in

There's an old woman sitting next to me

Getting lost between spirit and sin

She says, "Brother, this place is a memory

I'm not really sure how it ends

But it's long and its tough

And my faith was enough 

When I wore a younger priest's robes."

Give us a sign, you're the Trawlerman

Give us a sign tonight

Cause, I'm in the mood for a fratricide

And tell me I'm doing alright 

Now Rane at the river is a friend of mine

They set up the city for me

And they're quick with a prayer, or to drown a betrayer

And I'll send them up the ranks for free

They say, "Carpenter died within the city."

And the water covered up their face

"Well, I'm sure that i could be a Katabasin

If I just had less of your grace."

Now Paige is a lone occult optimist

Who never prepared for her own

And she's talking with Hayward, traveling together wayward

And eventually will die all alone

And Val is tired of politics

As Carson slowly grows old

Yes they're sharing a this life they call, "Misery"

But it's better than dreams that they sold

Give us a sign, you're the Trawlerman

Give us a sign tonight

Cause, I'm in the mood for a fratricide

And tell me I'm doing alright

It's a pretty good night in the afterlife

And Carpenter gives me a smile

'Cause I know that it's me she's been waiting to see

To remember her life by the Nile

And our reunion sounds like an Orchestra

And both of us smile with glee

And we all sit around, and remiss what we found

We say, "At last this is alright with me."

Give us a sign, you're the Trawlerman

Give us a sign tonight

Cause, I'm in the mood for a fratricide

And tell me I'm doing alright

[raininyourblackeyes]

My cousin, a published writer, a well-known poet in my country and a literature professor, for whom I've always been no.1 support ever since her first attempts at writing in high school, told me that I must stop writing as a hobby because that's her thing and since I'm writing fantasy mostly my writing could never have any important artistic value anyways.

[gothamghostwhispers]

[ @bugboi-of-gotham ]

Oh no….

[sysig]

Game time >:3c (Patreon)

[musical-chick-13]

I’m having too many Feelings™ about Noir again, this time specifically about how no “Sympathetic and Well-Intentioned Tragic Villain” in any other piece of media will ever be done as successfully and effectively as Altena.

[permanentreverie]

While I'm so interested in what they're doing in the pachinko show, I also freak out whenever it differentiates from the book

[pomefioredove]

only one bed room

summary: it's the sdc and everyone's staying over at ramshackle but, oh no! you're one room and one bed short. being the generous (or gullible) soul that you are, you agree to share characters: all sdc competitors, separate additional info: fair warning I have no replayed book 5 in a while, reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, most scenarios end in cuddles. can be interpreted as romantic or platonic (nix vil and rook's part)

Deuce Spade

"I don't mind sleeping on the floor!"

it's a big fat no from Vil. waking up sore and tired is unacceptable, and will affect his performance during practice. he will use the bed, end of story.

you offer to take the floor or one of the many stiff and uncomfortable couches in Ramshackle, but he refuses

what kind of aspiring honor student would he be if he kicked you out of your own room?

so, yes, you end up sharing the bed

he's a perfect gentleman about it

he insists on sleeping on the complete opposite end of the bed

to give you your space, of course

not because he's nervous

obviously it doesn't pan out- he's kind of a messy sleeper, and on the first night you wake up with him sprawled on top of you

you decide not to wake him up

you'd been thinking about saving for a weighted blanket, anyway

Ace Trappola

"you better not hog the blankets,"

takes it like a champ, though he might be screaming internally

he already sleeps in a dorm with three other guys- this can't be any different, right?

it totally is

sharing a bed with someone? someone he likes, who he isn't just forced to live with for convenience?

he's not sure how to tease you about this one without coming off as nervous himself

so he just shuts his trap about it (for once) and accepts his fate

in the end, it's no big deal for a player like him

he ends up hogging the blankets, though. hypocrite.

Kalim al-Asim

"YAYYY SLEEPOVER!"

he means exactly what he says

not a care in the world

all he's thinking about is how fun this is going to be! just him and his favorite Ramshackle prefect (Grim heard the news and will be staying in deuce's room to avoid any cracker mishaps)

Kalim, admittedly, is not a creature of great thought. he tends to be dictated by his feelings, and he can be a little selfish sometimes

so when Jamil pulled him aside and asked him to just buy another bed for ramshackle, he ignored him entirely

why would he do that? the situation is resolved, and everyone's happy!

well... not everyone, but Kalim's happy!

he stocks up on Vil-approved snacks, insists you two braid each other's hair and stay up late into the night talking with no one to remind you to go to sleep

(he tried to invite Jamil and got the door slammed in his face)

this arrangement lasts approximately one night

when Vil sees the dark circles under your eyes, it's over

you are confined to the couch, and Kalim is forced to sleep alone

Jamil Viper

"okay,"

really. he's totally fine with it.

besides the fact that he doesn't want to cause any more trouble, he's shared beds with his siblings before. no big deal

he just wasn't expecting to wake up with you snuggled against him

but this is fine

totally fine

he's barely conscious and it's early morning, still dark, the time he's used to getting up at

Vil has things covered, right? he can stay here for a little while longer. it would be awkward trying to get up without waking you

it feels nice having something all to himself for once

he smirks, imagining how jealous everyone else would be:

the beautiful, kind, intelligent ramshackle prefect in his arms? oh, the looks on their faces would almost make this whole thing worth it!

but in the end, he decides to say nothing

he wants to keep you all to himself, after all

for just a little while longer

Epel Felmier

"ain't no way I'm sharing!"

that's what he says in his head, anyway. but it's late and he's worn out from practice (and being shouted at) so he just sighs and accepts his fate

of course Vil would make him do it. it's probably because he's the smallest, isn't it?

you can tell he's unhappy with the arrangement (not that he's making much of a secret of it- he's grumbling under his breath all evening)

he starts coming around to the idea when he wakes up holding something warm

his heart jumpstarts and he nearly panics before remembering where he is

and then he realizes the thing he's holding is... you. somehow the two of you had ended up spooning during the night

but, more importantly... he's the big spoon!

he's almost tempted to wake you to announce that he, in all his manly glory, had naturally assumed the most masculine cuddling position!

(yes he sounds ridiculous. just let him have this one)

he lets you sleep, though. just a little more won't hurt anyone, right?

he's okay with the arrangement after that

Rook Hunt

"I will do it!"

Vil isn't even able to finish his sentence before the vice housewarden is practically jumping up and down

pretty much everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief; a volunteer! thank the sevens. otherwise, this could get awkward...

of course, he quite intentionally ends up with you in his arms

but not for any nefarious purpose, he insists!

he's a light sleeper, and can be stirred by any sudden noise or movement

you appeared to be having some kind of nightmare

it reminds him of a small animal caught in a trap, struggling for its life. he can't bear to see it- it's cruel to let a poor creature go on suffering before you can make the kill

of course, instead of killing you (thank the sevens), he decides to comfort you

he presses your head against his chest so you can hear his heartbeat, and he runs his fingers through your hair until you calm down.

then he keeps you there, just to be sure you don't have another bad dream

if you gave him permission, he would gladly be all over you in seconds. kissing up and down your shoulders, caressing every perfect inch of your body, whispering words of admiration

but he's perfectly content just cradling you for now

hopefully, you will continue to have these nightmares and give him excuses to do this again

Vil Schoenheit

"don't argue with me,"

initially, you just gave him the bed

maybe you were afraid of him; maybe you like him; maybe you just wanted to avoid a conflict altogether

either way, you spent the first night on the terribly uncomfortable floor, and trudged through Ramshackle like a zombie the next morning

Vil was feeling guilty watching you

what? he's not a monster

and he's a leader, which means he has a responsibility. and you had so graciously invited them all into your home...

fine! he'll share. he insists, even

when you try to argue, he shuts you down, repeating all that stuff about responsibility and hospitality, blah blah

and he doesn't want the team manager dead on their feet

arguing with him is pointless, so you just agree

he wakes up with you against him, sleeping peacefully

now, if it were you clinging to him- he might have had a good chuckle. can't keep your hands to yourself, prefect? I'm just that irresistible?

but the way he's holding you, the way his arms are so tightly wrapped around your waist, the way he's so clearly pressing you against him...

he hates to admit it, but you're an elegant sleeper. it's almost cute

the tension is relieved from your face, your breathing graceful and steady, and your perfect lips open just a sliver...

he is a perfect gentleman, and would never dream of doing anything without your explicit permission, but for one shameful second he thinks about how easy it would be to kiss you

... and then he quickly puts those thoughts aside and tries to get back to sleep

he doesn't want any dark circles, after all

[carebearbussy]

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨

���᭡ 𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙨 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮 𝙨𝙠𝙮𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙮𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙪𝙥.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙖! 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙘𝙬: 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙥 𝙞𝙣 𝙫, 𝙥*𝙨𝙨𝙮 𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩h (𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙), 𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡 𝙣𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣, 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨, 𝙘𝙪𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙨, 𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙟𝙤𝙗, 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙟𝙤𝙗 (𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙙).

ᥫ᭡ 𝙬𝙘: 4.3𝙠 (𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮…)

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

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You were sooo tired.

Sukuna had woken you up at the crack of dawn, seemingly out of nowhere. He had apparently informed you about your early awakening, but you cannot recall such events from him. But you knew how he became when he was upset, you you sucked it up and got out of your comfortable bed, leaving behind its warmth, for what exactly?

Another one of Sukuna's meetings, where he would sit hours on end in his large throne, as he awaits an endless line of citizens, listening to every one of their requests. The throne room at the estate was massive in size, being able to house thousands of people on end. And in the middle of it all, was Sukuna himself, nicely sat in it, legs spread slightly with one hand holding his drowsy head. You on the other hand, were seated right on his lap, one of his lower hands holding you close by the stomach, making you squirm in his lap every once and a while. Your kimono draping down your legs, covering most of your body. You looked ethereal, as you became the center of attention very quickly due to your appearance.

A civilian stood up, as he walked the crimson red carpet up to the steps of the throne. With a skittish look on the mans face, he respectfully bowed to the floor of the stairs, hovering his hands over his forehead, making sure to not make any unnecessary peeking, somewhat aware of the notorious temper Lord Sukuna gets when somebody oversteps their place when it comes to you. With a slightly shaky voice, he spoke.

"My Lord, you see, my family is in desperate times at the moment. My wife has fallen under an unknown illness, and we have no way of telling whether she will survive or not. Please, it is with my greatest esteem, if you could bless my family."

You furrow your eyebrows as you hear his story. To Sukuna, he has no reaction over such ridiculous things, but to you? You become very sensitive to such things, as you try to hide your discomfort by ajusting yourself on Sukunas lap, making him ever so slightly groan. He side eyes, you, as he continues to talk with the man kneeling before him. "I do not think you are worthy of my blessings, tiresome human. You may take your leave now." He says sternly, not giving any second thought.

Besides the throne on your left, is Uraume, keeping watch and a handy count over everybody who comes in and out. On your left, is a group of butlers, ready to take orders at any given moment. They stood tall, wanting to thoroughly impress Lord Sukuna to the fullest. And it seemed as though one particular one had wanted to impress you even more. He was tall, not as tall as Sukuna, but still tall compared to you. His eyes were dull with need, as they eyed your frame up and down, silently admiring you through his vision. God, he wished it was him instead of Sukuna. If he had a woman like you sitting all pretty on his lap like that, thats all a man like him could ask for.

Meanwhile, the man cowering on the floor was left in shambles, disappointment filling his system as he hears the words of Lord Sukuna. He stays on the ground for a while, not moving out of sheer disbelief. But his moment to himself was cut short. "Lord Sukuna said move, lackey." Uraume had said with a flick of the wrist, causing the man to quickly get up and make his leave, not wanting to disrupt the dwindling peace in the throne room.

"The nerve of some people to request such deplorable things from me, it makes me laugh, truly." He says, laughing to himself, causing you to slightly bounce in his lap, not going unnoticed by the same butler ogling at you from behind. But Sukuna is faster. He never makes any indications that he knows somebody is looking at you, but he is well aware of his staring. Sukuna has superhuman senses from all directions, making it a point to protect you from harm. He brings you in tighter to his chest, as he rubs the skin on your thigh under your kimono, causing shivers to crawl up your spine.

He brings your head closer to his with one hand as he pushes against it, his mouth coming dangerously close to your ear, as you can feel his hot breath gently fan against your neck. "I'm sure you are completely oblivious to this, but there is a man looking at my woman. You will know who I am talking about once I let you go." he says, squinting his eyes in annoyance at the man he can feel lingering his eyes on you. He is blissfully unaware that Sukuna knows what he is doing. He truly has no clue what he has gotten himself into.

Not only have none of the other butlers informed him on Sukunas constant desire for you, but the other butlers take note of what he is doing, too scared to move from their current position to stop him. They are afraid that interfering meant death, because they know what is about to happen shortly after this whole ordeal is over.

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It was nice to relax after a while, you thought.

The meeting with the civilians had lasted hours, your intuition being correct. You had come so close to just resting your eyes during the whole thing, but the tight grip Sukuna had on your waist prevented you from doing so. You were exhausted to say the least, needing a nice, well deserved bath to soothe your nerves.

You step into the large dimmed bathhouse with two handmaidens, immediately being enticed by the warmth of the atmosphere. Steam seemed to sprout from all sides, making you feel drowsy. But you felt at ease. You stepped over to a large bath, as it was slowly filled with warm water by your handmaidens with pitchers. You sat by the bath, as you watched them fill it to the brim with warm water. Your toes hit the water, making you hum with contentment.

"I'm ready." You say, signaling for the ladies to help you into the bath. You slowly strip yourself of all of your clothes, your handmaidens helping you do so. One of them holds your used kimono, as another slides off your shoes and undergarments. As you are fully undressed, both of your hands were held out in front of you, as each of your handmaidens take hold of each one, helping you keep your balance as you enter inside. You close your eyes, being content with the temperature. As you ease yourself into the water, you think back at todays events.

You had also somewhat noticed the man staring at you, only after Sukuna had mentioned it, and once the event had come to a close. But it couldn't have been that bad, right? Sukuna had a tendency to overreact to things like this when it came to you. This must have been one of those cases, surely. Or maybe, he was correct to think this way. After all, the butler had been starring for what was considered too personal. You could not see him, due to you being seated facing forward. But it was evident that he was thinking about more than what meets the eye. But as you relaxed into your string of thoughts, you were externally interrupted.

A large commotion could be heard from outside of the bathhouse, making you flinch and startling you by natural reaction. You turn your head in the direction of the noise, realizing it was the sound of one of the sliding doors slamming open. The doors in the estate were made with heavy material, so it could only be opened with such brute force from somebody as strong as Sukuna. The only person being as strong as him, being himself, of course. You knew how Sukuna got when he got mad, and you did not want him to be unattended when he got like this.

Wasting no time, you got up out of the bath, not thinking to put on your clothes, but instead grabbing the large bath towel that was next to you in the tub, instead of the robe that was freshly ironed for you. With hurried steps, you almost slipped as you exited the tub, causing your handmaidens to go into safety mode. "My lady, please! You should wear proper attire, and i'm sure another butler can handle Lord Sukuna at this moment!" She says, reaching for the robe, trying to hand it to you. But you were quick to ignore her, as you help up the towel to your body with one hand, as you stepped outside in broad daylight.

And to your horror, you had wished you stayed inside.

With your own two eyes, you saw Sukuna in all of his glory, basking in the feeling of strangling the poor butler that decided to linger his eyes on you for too long. The mans hands were trying to claw away Sukunas much larger ones, but to no avail. The sound of the air being knocked out of the mans lungs rung throughout the openness of the estate. Sukuna looked at the man, as he held him high in the air with one hand. He rested the rest of his hands on his hips, clearly unpleased by his previous actions.

"Tsk, you're pathetic. Laying your puny eyes on whats mine? Has nobody taught you any manners? Foolish." He says, smirking through his reactions. His face was turning more of a purple hue by the minute, seeming like he could pass out at any minute. He looks over to Uraume, who is smiling with him through the servants pain. "Yes, my lord, he made a very large mistake." Uraume says, agreeing. "Hm... what if I just..." He says, teasingly tightening his grip on the mans neck, as a loud 'pop' can be heard. This only amused Sukuna further, pushing himself to do more.

As you stood there watching in pure shock while resting your body on a wooden post, you really couldn't stand to see it any longer. You had to do something. You walked along the wooden floorboards of the foyer, trying not to make nay sound, but you fail miserably. A painfully loud 'creek' is heard from your direction, causing everybody in your vicinity to advert their attention towards you. You felt yourself grow how in embarrassment, realizing what you were wearing was highly inappropriate. Everybody except for the butler seemed unnafected, but on the inside, Sukuna was fuming.

So you're trying to show off now? He had seen your half naked body loads of times, but in front of another man? You were really pushing it at this point. His nose scrunches, as his eyebrows furrow in irritation. He eyes you up and down, not wasting any time before dropping the man before him, not taking into consideration his safety whatsoever. He walks towards you, each step making you more jittery than the next.

"Kuna, what are you doing to that poor man-!" You say, calling out to him as you stand on the foyer, almost standing at the same height as him, but still having to look up as he stood in front of you. "What the hell do you think you're wearing, woman?" He says, adding fuel to the fire, and completely disregarding the fact that he had just strangled a man. You look at him with wide eyes, as you scoff to yourself, trying to peek over his shoulder to get a better look of the man, but to no avail due to his tall stature. "That's not what's important right now, now tell me what happened!" You say, still searching for answers.

"Yes it is, do not make me ask twice. Go put some clothes on before anybody sees you in such a state." He says, starring daggers at your body. But you aren't focused on that, but instead on what was happening to the butler, who was clutching his bruised throat for dear life, making quick breaths in and out as he pants on the stone floor. Its uncomfortable to watch, but Uraume and Sukuna don't seem to care at all. You go to move past Sukuna, wanting to make sure the dying man on the floor was alright.

As you walk to where the man was, he instinctively tried to move away from you, not wanting to test Lord Sukuna's patience any further than he already has. But he finds himself unable to do anything other than stay still, as he watched the girl come closer to him by the second. Sukuna would let you have your moment, before he would decide how to penalize you for acting out of line.

You knelt down in front of the man, still holding up the towel wrapping your body. You looked at him with so much care, something Sukuna was selfish when it came down to it. "Hey, it's okay..." You say, reaching your free hand out to rub his back, hoping to soothe some of his pain. You knew what you were doing would be overstepping, but in the moment it really didn't matter. It seemed to work, as you noticed his breathing become ever so slightly more sturdy as you stood there. You smiled down on him by natural reaction, forgetting that a fuming monster of a man was watching this all unfold behind you.

This didn't last any longer, as Sukuna made heavy steps towards the two of you, as Uraume observed from afar. But you are too focused on helping the butler get back to his feet, as you attempt to try and hold him up with one hand. But all the sudden, your free hand that was once carrying the butler, now carried nothing, as Sukuna snatched your wrist into his tight clutch. This made you wince in shock, completely diverting your attention towards Sukuna. His eyes squinted as he looked at you, jealousy taking over his system once more.

"First you have men looking at you, then you walk outside practically naked, and now you are trying to seduce another man? I think I need to teach somebody a lesson." He says, forcibly bringing you up by the thighs, carrying you so your chests are pressed together. You wrap your arms around Sukunas neck, as you squeel from the shock of being carried so abruptly. You kick your feet as Sukunas hands lock underneath your thighs, making sure to not move the slipping towel. His hold on you bounce ever so slightly. "How was that flirting-"

"And you're also going to learn how to not talk back to those above you."

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"Please, m' sorry-"

You said, your eyes lolling back into your skull. It had been roughly an hour after Sukuna had brought you back to his quarters, and he planned on using this time wisely.

You were propped up nicely on the cozy comforters on the bed, but the comfort was far gone, with Sukuna edging you for what seemed like forever. It was getting tiring, as you chased upon a non existent race, which was your orgasm. Somehow, Sukuna always knew whenever you were about to release, having a sixth sense embedded in his body dedicated to you. His upper arms hooked under your upper thighs, his lower hands holding your hips up to maneuver you how he pleases.

This position he had kept you in made you feel practically numb, bringing you speechless. Your mouth squeezed shut from the pressure of his tongue secured onto your clit. He latched his lips, sucking on the bud, bringing you too much pleasure that you can handle at once.

"F-fuck, please let me come 'Kuna!" You say, barely able to look him in the eyes, hell, he wasn't even letting you touch him, let alone yourself. But this in his words, was to be deserved. "Tsk, acting like such a whore today, arent you?" He says, taking a pause in his antics, before giving your pussy some nice, playful slaps with his upper hand, making your hips jolt up, your eyes going wide as you yelp out. "Sensitive for your king, aren't we?"

He resumes his assault on your cunt, making sure to linger at your reactions. What he wants most, is a reaction out of you. And a reaction he is getting. You feel your legs start to tremble under his constant sucking, as you feel your body pulse every time he hits a nerve. You can't help the whimpers that fall from your mouth, from the combination of ungranted release, and the tingling due to the numbing sensation from how long he had been toying with you. But you could tell Sukuna was enjoying it. But you needed to cum, and soon. You felt as if you were going to explode if you didn't, and there was really nothing you could do to stop him.

The grip on his thighs tighten, as he soon realizes you are close to your release again, which seemed to pattern the last three? six? ten times? You couldn't keep track at this point the amount of times he had edged you, especially the way he swishes his head in the crevices of your folds, eating you out like a starved man deprived of nutrients. He blew into your wetness, causing waves of vibration to be loud enough to make a noise, almost sending you over the edge, before Sukuna halts his movements, then looking up at you. Your face was red, sweat trickling down every inch of your body. You felt hot, inside and out. Why did he have to be so difficult?

"Noooo, please just let me cum! I'll be good!" You plead, whining about your missed orgasm. You fiddled your hands above your stomach, eager to grip his silky pink hair, reaching out to it by instinct. But he notices this, and stop you by grabbing you by the wrist. "Ah ah ah, you have to wait a bit, brat. I'm not sure you quite deserve your reward." He says, crushing your high hopes in one sentence. You practically had tears in your eyes from how frustrated you were. "Beg for what you wish."

You shut your eyes, a loud exhale from your nose being heard. You looked down at him, still between your legs. He starts running his lengthy fingers along your slick, squishing your puffy folds each between his index and thumbs. You look away, not wanting to look him in the eyes at the thought of how pathetic you looked. You open your mouth, trying to find the right words for your tireless begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to try to entice anybody, I was just worried, but that has nothing to do with this, please 'Kuna!" You say, looking down at him with glossy eyes, filled with need, You try to close your legs out of sheer shyness, but he stops you with two firm hands. He rewards you with a couple particularly harsh pussy slaps, making you jolt once more as he watches the way your hips buck upwards. He stays in his current position for a while, contemplating his decision.

He gets up from the edge of the bed, unhooking his arms as he towers over your resting form. You watch him slowly get closer to your body, crawling up the bed while looking at your face. He finds himself enticed by your neck, as he watches you extend it to the other side to hide your face. But that only shows off a noble part of your supple body that he adores. You peek up at him, as his face is mere inches away from yours. But he decides to attack your neck, going in like a moth to a flame. Sucking on the soft skin of your neck, he creates a multitude of different bruising, further marking you. Yeah, you were going to have a hard time trying to cover this up.

Coating your neck in his thick saliva, you whimper at the feeling of his thick fangs sinking ever so slightly into your neck. You try to grab onto his hair, but he stops you once more, pinning your hand to the bed with one of his upper hands, his lower hands reaching down to rub rough circles on your sensitive bud. You felt yourself bring a plethora of different emotions to yourself, no knowing what part of your body to focus on. You lifted your head back as a natural reaction, letting Sukuna fully dwarf you on the bed, as well as accidentally grant him full access to your neck. You try to close your legs, bringing your knees to your stomach, but his girthy hands keep them plied open.

He lets go of your nape with a 'pop', as he slowly pulls away, basking in the sight of his marks on your nimble skin. You are left panting, the combination of pain and pleasure seeping into you. He truly didn't mean to go too far, but he cant help it when it comes to you.

"Y'know, I was planning on having my fun with you until I tire, but since you asked oh so nicely, and the way you look right now, god, I think you're ready."

At his words, you felt a smile of relief hit your face, happy that after all this time, he is finally giving in. He felt his cock throb with precum, but one thing Sukuna is good at, is gaslighting you. He looks at you with a sinister smile, tilting his head as he moves his robe off of his body, pointing down at his pulsing length through his pants. "You see this brat? You did this. This is all your fault, and I know how you can fix it." He says, following with a loud sigh.

With one swift movement, he tugs off his undergarments. Your face contorts into that of surprise, being shocked every single time without fail whenever you see his two lengthy cocks, proudly pulsating against your thigh. You know you'll be able to take it, but with the kind of mood he is in right now, you are unsure. Sukuna is a very unpredictable man, after all. But one thing you were not expecting, was for him to be the one sitting up. His chest hit your back, as his legs resting on the floor at the edge of the bed for leverage. His lower arms held your hips up nicely, his upper arms hooking under your knees.

With another swift movement, no prep involved, he slipped inside of you with his bottom cock, his top one sliding against your pubic area. You moan out upon his arrival inside you, unprepared for the sheer size he was. His teeth connected to your shoulder as he slouched down to accommodate your height. "Wait-" You said, but were interrupted as he began to move at a moderate pace, as you sucked him in and out of your gummy walls repeatedly.

Wanton moans threatened to come out every second, as he plunged himself deeper into you, smacking his hips against yours as he did all of the work. You felt like you were floating, as you were being used like a ragdoll for Sukuna's pleasure. "Shit, just sucking me in like a vice, arent'cha? Are you gonna be a good little whore? You adore your kings cock that much?" He said, finding it amusing how your body reacts to his treatment. "Look down woman, theres something else there besides just the one inside you." He says, signaling to his free cock that was sliding against your lower stomach.

"Kuna, I can feel it in my-" "Your tummy? I know, you can handle it, it'll all be worth it. Now pay attention." He says, shutting you up once more. It was hard to focus, the bouncing of your body paired with the tight position Sukuna had kept you in being key factors. You slowly reach down with your right hand, cupping his free cock in your now wet hands, soaking them in pre cum. The squelching of the wetness of his cock thrusting in your hand, his hips and your pussy smacking against each other, and the sounds of your uncontrollable moans filled the room.

"You wish it was that pesky butlers cock in your tight, pretty hand, huh? Well i've got news for you, he is nothing compared to me. I shouldn't even be giving him a second thought, but thats what happens when you are in the picture."

You lazied your head on his bicep, trying to gain leverage on yourself. You were sooooo close. "What if I just..." He said, hitting the spot inside you that only he knows, repeatedly driving against the sweet ridge that sits nicely in your canal, thus almost sending you over the edge. "F-fuck! Right there-, holy-! I'm about to-"

But he stops everything, seemingly placing your world at an everlasting halt. That was to be your most intense orgasm of the night, but he ruined it. You were devastated, to the point where you tried moving yourself again, but the grip he had on you prevented you from doing so. You let out a loud sigh, tired of your release being denied.

"But you said you would let me, you said-!"

"Aww, whats wrong? You thought you would get it that easily? Now get on those knees of yours and put yourself to use, show me that you are truly sorry, brat."

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[autumnmatt]

𝘨𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺.

summary: matt is playing fornite with his two brothers and he gets to loud when he keeps losing, causing his girlfriend to wake up from her slumber.

classification: fluff

warnings: kissing, pet names, suggestive language, use of y/n

it was about 3 in the morning and you were fast asleep in yours and matts bed, snuggled up in a blanket with matts stuffed pug mr. wrinkleton tucked under your arm.

matt on the other hand was in the middle of a very intense fornite match with his brothers nick and chris. there were about 10 people left in that match and your boyfriend was very determined to win.

all was going good during the game play until him and his brothers came across this very sweaty team. “on me on me!! these kids are good I need backup quickkk” matt yelled to nick and chris through his headset.

he then faced one of the opposing teammates but of course he lost the battle between them and got knocked. “FUCKKKKK” he screamed out of frustration. nick also got killed a little while after matt did by the same person.

y/n wasn’t that much of a heavy sleeper so when he started to yell out, she shifted in bed a little opening up her eyes to see what the yelling was coming from.

she looked up and saw the bright screen in front of her with fornite being played along with her boyfriend sitting in his gaming chair banging on the desk from just getting killed. she puts the blanket over her head and closes her eyes in an attempt to fall back asleep.

“CHRIS DUDE YOURE SO BAD THOSE KIDS WERE ASS” matt yells, slamming his controller on the desk making a very loud sound that could be heard throughout the room.

y/n tossed and turned once more slowly losing the battle of getting back to sleep. so she got up, yanked the covers off of her body, and started sleepily walking over towards matt, dragging her feet with every step she took.

once she made it over to the chair where he sat she stood there, waiting for matt to realize she was standing here. and once he did he could see the pout forming on her lips, instantly feeling guilt for being so loud so late at night.

“oh baby I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” he frowned, muting his mic and taking his headset off then holding his arms out to her and patting his lap, inviting her to come sit down.

she straddled him and rested her head on his shoulder, enjoying the comfort of his warm body and taking in his familiar scent, the scent she loved most.

“go back to sleep baby, I promise I’ll keep it down”. he said and kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her so that he could still have access to the controller also slowly rubbing up and down on her lower back.

“come to bed with me.” she groaned into his shoulder. she was already strarting to fall back asleep.

“of course I will baby.” he smiled taking his hands off the controller putting the headset on one last time to tells his brothers his was going to sleep. he shut of his computer, put his headset and controller up and gently picked her up to bring to the bed.

you wrapped your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling out of his arms. your face now buried into his chest.

he set you down on your side of the bed before walking over to his pulling the blanket over the both of you and situating the pillows so they were at a comfortable position under your heads.

you faced him for a few seconds to say your goodnights. you kissed his lips lazily before speaking. “goodnight I love you.” you spoke up, resting your head onto his chest and wrapping your arms around him.

“goodnight I love you too baby”. he said before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him. he kissed your forehead before you slowly drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

a/n: AHHHH I think this is so cute. my 2nd story on here, thank you so much for the love on my first story and definitely send me some requests. hope you enjoyed this fic, love you all!!!

taglist: @stayingstromboli @conspiracy-ash

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[munsonsmixtapes]

Tired of Waiting

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: little pieces of your life as you fall in love with Anthony

cw: hurt/comfort

very loosely inspired by Love Story by Taylor Swift

Age 7

The first time you met Anthony, you had been playing hide and seek with your siblings. Your brothers had invited him to play and had declared that he be the seeker. Immediately, you had thought he was cute with his disheveled hair and outfit that was covered in dirt for reasons unknown to you.

He got along with your brothers quite nicely, but didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Almost as if he didn’t like you. And Anthony didn’t like you. He thought you were a know-it-all and didn’t like how you told him what to do.

You hid yourself in the tree above you and tried to hold back your giggles as you watched the boy and your brothers look for you, calling out your name as they did so. You let out a laugh that was a bit too loud and all four of them looked up, Anthony’s eyes going wide as he saw how high up you were. He thought it was very irresponsible of your brothers to let a girl such as yourself climb up there. But instead of helping, they all just laughed along with you.

Taking matters into his own hands, Anthony climbed up to help you despite your objection. You didn’t need his help. You got up there so you could certainly get down. And you certainly didn’t need help from a boy. Especially not one who was your not your brother.

“I do not require your help,” you told him, but he just ignored you, climbing the tree quicker than you ever could.

“No one said you didn’t require it, but I am offering.”

“Then I shall stay up here.” You crossed your arms over your chest, planting yourself down on the branch that you had been standing on. Thinking about letting him help you made you feel weak, like you couldn’t do it for yourself and you most certainly could.

You turned to face the setting sun as Anthony continued to climb to you, paying him no mind. You weren’t leaving that tree until he went away. He was not going to make you look like all of the other women. Because that was not what you were. You were just a girl trying to live out her freedom until it was time to discuss marriage.

Everyone stopped when there was a loud crack coming from below you. You sat up and sure enough, the branch was separating from the tree. Anthony finally reached the branch and him grabbing onto it made it completely break off, causing the both of you to fall to the ground in a loud thud.

He landed on top of you and made multiple apologies even though the fall hadn’t been that far, but you had hurt your knee, probably had even broken it. You screamed in response to the pain and your brothers quickly pulled him off of you and your oldest brother, Henry carried you inside to have your scraped knees taken care of. From that moment, you vowed that you would always hate Anthony Bridgerton.

Age 12

You got over your hatred for Anthony pretty quickly and the two of you had been attached at the hip ever since. You’d chase each other through the garden, threatening to kiss the other once you were caught, but that never actually happened. No matter how much you wanted it to. You knew it was wrong for a boy and a girl to kiss if they were not married, but that didn’t stop you from imagining what it would have been like to press a featherlight kiss to Anthony’s lips.

And Anthony felt just the same. He had realized that the feelings he had thought were hatred were actually of love. He had loved you and more than just a friend. He knew that he was young, but he wanted to marry you. So badly that it hurt. He vowed that as soon as the two of you were of age, he’d do it. If he had the guts.

Age 16

As you got older, you and Anthony talked much of traveling the world together. You’d go to Spain and Paris, and Italy and wherever else your hearts desired. You’d both sit in the study of your house and spin your globe for hours, closing your eyes and spinning the thing and deciding you’d had whatever it landed on to your ever-growing itinerary.

Not long after, Anthony told you that he would be traveling with his uncle through Europe. Coincidentally to the exact places you both had discussed going to. You had been a little upset, but ultimately felt elated for him to be able to do something so exciting. He promised that he would write and bring something back, but that didn’t seem like enough. You had spent every single day for the past nine years together and now you were going to be miles apart with only his letters and gifts to keep your company.

The next week, you saw Anthony off, giving him a hug that lasted a little too long for friends and stayed there until his carriage disappeared down the road. You felt tears fall from your eyes but wiped them away until you were alone.

You knew it was only going to be for a few weeks, but without Anthony, a part of you was missing. A piece of your heart had left with him and you were hoping, praying that he’d finally get the hint and come back and ask for your hand like you had been wanting for years. But he didn’t.

Age 20

Those few weeks had turned into months which eventually turned into years. Anthony had been gone for four years and you eventually threw away the letters he was sending you, knowing that everything he had said was a load of shit. He has promised to come back and marry you, but clearly that hadn’t been of importance since he had yet to do just that.

So, with that, you decided that it was finally your season to find a husband to which your mother reluctantly agreed. She had her heart set on you ending up with Anthony, but since he had failed to propose, she decided that it was probably for the best to just get on with it.

As soon as you had been declared ready to wed, suitors lined up at your door with gifts and many compliments which you took with a smile. All of them were gentleman, but none of them seemed right. The onto one you wanted was out of reach.

You found yourself at yet another ball to meet more suitors that you had forced yourself to go despite your want to stay home and read Anthony’s letters over and over again. You had been dancing with the man your mother had insisted was the right fit for you and no matter how nice he was, you had decided that he was a bore. All he seemed to want to talk about was his family and as nice as it was that he loved them so much, you could only hear about his six siblings for so long.

You looked around the room as he spoke and your eyes locked on a beautiful man by the refreshments table. He has the prettiest brown eyes and hair that was the perfect amount of messy. He was definitely your type and you had been determined to talk to him.

Once the song ended, you excused yourself from Edgar and made a beeline for the man that has caught your interest. His eyes locked on yours and for some reason, they seemed familiar, almost as if you had looked into them before. He gave you a smile and you swore your legs were going to give out at how pretty it was.

“Hello,” you greeted him with a curtsy. “I’m-”

“Lady l/n,” he finished, taking your gloved hand and pressing a kiss to it. How could he have possibly known your name? Unless- No, he was in Paris last you had heard.

“Anthony?” You asked and he just smiled. It really was him! In the flesh! How had he come back and not told you? Perhaps the announcement had been in the letters you had failed to open.

“I believe you should address me as Viscount Bridgerton,” he said, his lips right by your ear, causing you to shiver.

“That would mean that I respect you and at this moment, I don’t.” You pulled your hand from his and headed out of the ballroom, down to the courtyard.

Anthony took off after you, quickly gaining up on you. What had he done wrong? Once upon a time, you worshipped the ground that he walked on and now you were treating him like he was dog shit you had just stepped in.

He told you he was going to come back and marry you and now that he had, you didn’t want anything to do with him. He knew that he had been gone longer than intended, but he had hoped you still would have been happy to see him. Apparently, he was wrong.

Anthony followed you into the hedge maze that took up most of the courtyard and was having trouble keeping up since you had sped up into a run. What even was the purpose of a hedge maze?

He eventually caught you by the wrist and you tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. You were tired of running, but you were also tired of waiting. If you said the word, you’d be wed to Edgar within a month and Anthony would have been kicking himself because he hadn’t gotten there sooner. It was what he had deserved.

“Stop running,” he commanded through labored breaths and you just shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “I will not. I am so upset with you that I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Upset with me?” He still had no idea what he had done.

“Yes!” You looked so upset and exhausted that all Anthony wanted to do was hold you in his arms as a way to comfort you.

“Why?”

“Why? Be serious, Anthony! I have waited years for you and I shall not wait any longer. I am done with you.” That was like a stab to the heart. You should have just killed him. It would have hurt a lot less

“Done?” You couldn’t be done with him. You had spent too much time together for that to be true.

“I am to marry Lord Fletcher.” Fuck, he was too late.

“That man is a bore!” You had no interest in hearing his thoughts. He lost his privilege to tell you what he thought when he left.

“He is no such thing!” He really was, but you weren’t going to give Anthony the satisfaction of being right.

“And may I say old enough to be your father.” He was that too, but you weren’t really going to marry him so it didn’t matter.

“But he will be my husband. A role you could have taken on if you had bothered to show up.” With that, he he let go of your hand and watched you move further into the maze.

“But he doesn’t love you as much as I!” He yelled, loud enough for you to hear. You quickly turned around and marched towards him and grabbed him by his coat before pressing your lips to his. You felt him gasp into your mouth but he quickly melted into you, his lips moving with yours.

“You love me,” you said against his lips.

“More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled away and reached into his pocket for the ring he had bought for you in Paris. He opened the box you gasped at the beautiful ring sitting inside it.

“Anthony, it’s beautiful.”

“And it’s yours.” He removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger, tears welling up in both of your eyes. “It always was.”

“I’m sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“No apologies necessary,” he shook his head, pulling you into another deep kiss. “Now, shall we go make the announcement?” He asked, offering you his arm.

“We shall,” you nodded and looped your arm through his, the two of you making your way back into the ballroom to announce your much anticipated engagement.

[spookypete-94]

So Imagine...

Just a little blurb. Simon solves something by bringing Johnny around.

Simon Riley having to be a total gentleman when around you while home. Watching his mother being mistreated most of her life causing him to make the conscious decision to be better.

Simon Riley walking on the outside of the sidewalk, hand and arm wrapped around your back to keep you safe. Walking a little faster to beat you to any doors that need opened in your path. Thinking you're going to carry any of those groceries he just paid for inside? Yeah right. While on that thought, you keep your pretty shiny debit card in that condition. Don't even worry about sliding it because Simon's already paid for whatever it is you were going to purchase.

So imagine the conversation when he comes to bed, and you are slyly smiling, pulling the covers up to your chin- all because you are laying on the side he was so possessive of.

Reaching underneath you, he grabs the blanket you are on top of, rolling you to the otherside of the bed.

"Come on, Si! Let me lay on your side! I wanna stick my leg out."

Simple, and articulate, he answers with a, "No."

"Whyyy?" You whined and pouted getting under the covers on your side snuggling into a pillow.

"Closer to the door if someone breaks in."

You blinked at him, realizing he was worried about your safety at all times.... But instead of being thankful about it, you smarted back.

"I lay next to a window. You think someone can't come in from there?" Sly smile returning, voice coy in nature. All you were trying to do was be cheeky, still trying to get your way.

He hadn't thought about that... No worries he will come up with a solution.

"Still no, love. Go to sleep, we have company in the morning."

The next day, you welcomed and greeted Simon's long time best friend. Soap, Johnny Mactavish.

The day was full of laughs, stories, and food.

But you see, it was also full of surprises. The guest room had been made up the day before by you just for Johnny. When you found his bag in your room, you brushed it off and he just picked the wrong room. No worries.

So imagine... Night had settled into your bones. Tired and weary, you all headed up stairs to the sleep quarters. Johnny not too far off the entire time. Finally, it had been clocked onto your radar as strange. Every turn, he was not far off. Noticing the excited gleam and shimmer in his eye.

You see, you had failed to hear about their conversation earlier. Simon expressing to Johnny how you pointed out the open window next to your shared bed. How could the love of his life be so exposed to a threat?? Don't stress it though. Who better to fix that thought then the person who does that out in the field for Ghost? Only difference Johnny was now doing it for you, instead of Simon.

So imagine the look of confusion as you faced Simon when Johnny followed you into your bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Simon?" Your quiet voice called out to him looking for an answer.

"Still worried about that window, love?" Simon asked backing you up to the bed.

Two unknown arms feeling foreign to you wrapped around your waist, tucking you closer to him. Turning as best you could, you saw Johnny.

He laid closest to the window, Simon closer to the door, and you sandwiched in the middle. No safer place you could be... After they were done with you of course.

Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist

[elliesmainhoe]

need ellie to take care of me drunk desperately

i love your writing 😭

Rescue Remedy

e.williams x fem!reader

summary: you call Ellie to come and rescue you from a bar after having a few too many drinks

warnings: alcohol, cigarettes, mentions of hangovers, slurred speech, drunk crying, fluff.

just realized this is basically a self insert vent post of a very similar situation I've been in LMAO

WC 1K

DAY 4 OF SAPPHIC SUMMER

you were relieved when the familiar beaten up Ford focus pulled up beside you. you'd been sitting on the curb for almost 15 minutes- tear stained cheeks, smudged glitter and mascara as your body shook and jittered from both the cold Seattle night and the mixture of cigarette smoke and alcohol causing the most humbling case of hiccups you think you've ever had.

"Ells!" you whined, a new flood of tears streaming from your eyes at the sight of your night in shining armour- your girlfriend.

"c'mon sweet girl" she huffed, hair thrown up messily in the usual half up, half down style, clad in red and black checkered pyjama pants, black hoodie that was splattered with paint topped off with the obnoxious lime green crocks you'd gotten her for her one Christmas, of course decked out in charms shed collected over the past few months.

before you could even process it you were sitting in the passenger seat, leather seats sticking to your sweat glazed skin, and sobs turning to hiccups.

this had been the worst night out you'd had since your 21st. and as soon as the car revved and moved down the road, Ellie's hand pressed firmly on your bare thigh, the fabric of your dress not long enough to cover the majority of your thigh.

"what happened sweet girl?" oh and by that one question, it's like Ellie had opened a flood gate.

firstly, you got to the club of choice after having to walk almost a mile from where your designated driver had parked, accompanied by a couple of friends. after queuing on the curb for almost thirty minutes, you reached the front of the queue and then promptly realized you had left you purse. with your id. in the car. a mile away.

so after you'd trekked all the way to the car, retrieving your purse and id, getting back to the club, queuing for another 30 minutes, on your own this time- as your friends who had not forgotten their id decided to go in and leave you to sort your shit out.

let's just say you were already a little pissed off.

secondly, you got in the club and it stunk. not just of sweat and booze, but piss. fucking piss. and to top that all off you couldn't find your friends so- you did what any other sane person would do and ordered shots.

shots that were actually doubles, but of course you hadnt realized that until way too late.

which leads into the final stage of the night, your head being deep in a grimy toilet bowl, knees bruised from having to kneel on tiles that were not grouted properly and pieces of them shot out and cut at your skin.

and by that point you had gotten out your phone, which was now on 7% charge because you had offers to use your GPS and it drained all your battery, and was a blubbering mess on call with your girlfriend.

you would later have to retell the story again, as apparently according to Ellie- she couldn't understand a word you were saying, just nodding along in a desperate attempt to keep you awake long enough to get a glass of water and a slice of toast down you.

it must have been during your tangent when you'd gotten home, as when you finally finished your incoherent mumbling you were sitting on the beat up leather couch of yours and Ellie's apartment, a couch you'd hated as soon as you moved in, but Ellie had a weird attachment to so it stayed in it's place, the first thing you saw when you entered the home.

Ellie was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your thighs and facing you, holding up a large glass of water,

"sip baby" she spoke softly, to which you groaned.

"do- do- I haveeeeeee to?" you whined, batting your eyelashes in an attempt to distract your girlfriend "jus' wan' sleep"

"you can sleep after you drink that." after another groan you took a sip of the glass of water- admittedly, it was refreshing, however you still gagged to prove a point.

"good girl" she purred, standing up and kissing your forehead, moving over to the cabinet to grab a packet of pills.

"fuck off"

she laughs, moving back with a small white pill in the palm of her hand, to which you begrudgingly take after Ellie promises to take you to get ice cream the day after.

you felt your eyelids droop once more, you couldn't tell if it was sleep, or just your false eyelashes becoming suddenly very heavy, you whine "'m tired ells..."

"alright I hear you, c'mon baby" she sighs, leaving a half eaten piece of toast on the coffee table, one arm supporting your back and the other under your knees as she made her way to your bedroom, plopping you on the mattress and you sigh, already drifting to sleep before you screech at the feeling of something wet in your face.

"hey- hey" Ellie laughs, "I'm just taking off your makeup baby, just taking off your makeup", she smiles, dragging a cotton pad across your skin, taking off the creams and powders you had applied previously, smudged mascara coming off with it.

Ellie was thankful you'd taken off your clothes as soon as you stepped foot into the apartment saying something which she thinks was "dresses like these are modern day torture devices"- but with the way you slur your words when drunk she could never be sure, leaving you just in your underwear, making her job a whole lot easier.

trying to maneuver you, who had now dropped on the mattress like a deadweight, would've been a too strenuous task for 3am.

after discarding the used wipes and pulling your hair back into a very messy ponytail, Ellie scooted in beside you, the mattress sinking as you unconsciously snuggle in closer, head nuzzling into the girls neck, her hand going around to caress your back, soothing you into an easy sleep.

the hangover tomorrow was going to be horrible.

••••••••••••••

The third time I've tried to write this, I almost gave up 🥰

[nichuuu]

Scatterbrain

Word count: 18k+

They say it takes a village to raise a child. 

To raise a girl as fine as Jang Wonyoung, you’d probably need 3 whole villages.

Two of those three villages would be used to train the way she walks because it’s perfect: classy, poised, elegant. The other one would have to work on her outfits because god would she need those. Hopefully the village doesn’t operate a Shein style manufacturing line. She’d hate that.

Her face is the definition of “striking the gene pool lottery”, and so is the rest of her body. Lanky arms and legs; toned, slim tummy; big, bright eyes that glimmer under the flashing lights. Personally, you like her “you’re on camera” smile the most. She knows this, and she always makes it a point to shoot it your way as she struts towards you. She stops half way to get a flute of Champagne, make that two actually, then grabs another. Those long legs can cover one hell of a distance, and they bring her right to you in a matter of seconds.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she hands you the Champagne flute in her left hand, and the rings on it shine in the light, “cause it’s starting to feel like you’re just stalking me now.”

Of course, it’s the snarky remarks that open the conversation. Jang Wonyoung, airheaded as ever m’lady, and you sip on the Bubbly that she’s very nicely delivered to you. Wonyoung is, of course, a little bit of an airhead in your books (only because she believes that you’re always there for her, nothing else), and it’s never not hilarious to watch her draw her lips into a thin line. It’s not the first time she’s hearing this from you; it certainly won’t be the last. You can’t control where you’re posted to, but you know for a fact that you’ll see her again a couple months down the road.

Cause your meetings with Jang Wonyoung are through pure serendipity really, and you certainly will start calling it that after you read that one story. You know: the one where this guy cheats on his idol girlfriend, who he has a tense relationship with, with another idol that he happens to meet just about everywhere. There’s 0 communication between the two of you when these types of events come around, and neither of you know if either of you will be there or not. Actually, it’s just you really; neither of you know if you will be there. 

“Here for Kwon Eunbi again? Or are you finding someone else?” This question of her’s is customary at this point. Never once has it been perfunctory.

“Well, I was actually here to try and catch an interview with Jo Yuri, but I guess you’ll do,” you reply. Wonyoung scoffs—so I’m second place then?—and you have to assuage her oh-so-damaged ego, “you’re making this inference on your own Princess. I never said anything remotely close to that.”

And it’s that smile on her face that makes you want to kiss her really. It’s gorgeous, it’s cute, it’s beautiful. She’s given you that damned smile so many times that you could probably draw it from memory, though you’d definitely butcher it. The dress is certainly doing it justice, and you watch it brush against the skin of her legs as she shifts her weight to the other foot. I’ve never been that good at inferences. You’re far better than me, Prince, and she’s playing with her hair: twirling and untwirling it around her finger. That ribbon atop her head… Her stylist certainly knows their stuff.

“Think I’ll win an award this year?” Her question draws you away from your thorough examination of her. You take a moment to think, and you have to say, it depends, but I think you could definitely get something in some category. She gives you this inscrutable look, and she’s chuckling to herself as she looks at the crowd and sips on her champagne. You can guess what she’s about to say next: quite the crowd today, huh? And you’d reply, “Don’t think that they’re all here for you”, and that would prompt her to shoot back with, “Then who are they here for? You?”. 

But of course, when do things ever go according to plan?

“Have you thought about my offer?” she asks, and you’re caught off guard. 

Cause here’s the history between you two: Middle school best friends, always kind of inseparable. She was the beauty queen, it girl, and she still is; you were the writer, head of the school magazine, and you’re pretty much writing for the rest of your life. Wherever you went with her, rumours followed—Are they dating? I think they’re just friends. Maybe she’s trying to be the front of the magazine?—but you never thought much of it. It was just a simple friendship to you, nothing more. 

Then the kiss she gave you in high school changed it all.

It was a party, hosted by one of your mutual friends. She kissed you, and no, it wasn’t a Spin The Bottle forfeit, nor was it a dare of any sort; it was a sincere, tender kiss in the garden—unprompted, and away from any prying eyes and soft like silk chiffon. You have to admit, the sensation had your brain mired for a minute or so. But when you came back to your senses, you kissed her right back, and things got complicated after that. 

No one knew of it; it was your little secret. Wonyoung became closer than ever, and next thing you know, she declares the two of you “exclusive” but not dating. It’s because her agency has that funky dating ban thing, and Wonyoung was desperate to find a loophole, albeit a little complex. Of course, you’re willing to stay “exclusive” with Wonyoung in secret, but you started to worry that it can’t stay this way for long after the two of you get out of high school. 

But as fate would have it, your career paths meet at the crossroads, and now you see her every other month or so. You still text her when you can, and the “exclusive” relationship has sustained. Now that she’s an adult and she’s bringing in mad bucks for the agency, she’s informed you of some changes in her contact. From there, the offer was birthed, and you have left it unchecked for the past four months or so, “grey ticked” as she liked to call it.

“You haven’t texted in a while, thought you died,” she continues, leaning on her elbows against the table. “Thank god you’re alive, huh?”

You hoped that she’d just forget about it, but she’s more of a mnemonist than you give her credit for. An award show is the last place you expected to be caught off guard by Jang Wonyoung, but she’s definitely a master of surprise. I uh… I haven’t really thought about it, is a lie you tell her and yourself. She smiles enigmatically, downs the rest of her Champagne. 

“Let’s talk about it tonight,” she touches your chest, and it’s soft like silk chiffon, “you know where to find me, Prince.”

She struts off to join the rest of her members, stops halfway to return her Champagne flute, then looks back at you over her shoulder to give you a small wave. You sip on your Champagne as the silk brushes against her skin. 

It’s a heavy breath that leaves your mouth, and it’s the rest of the Champagne that goes in.

*

302.

Gold lettering, black plaque. It’s grand, pretty elegant. Suits her well. 

Then the door opens. 

In her bathrobe, Jang Wonyoung shoots her “you’re on camera” smile. You’re earlier than expected—she lets you in—Matter of fact, I thought you might not show at all.

And it’s a must to quip back, “thought you’d be asleep by now you big baby.”

When the door closes, it’s straight to work, and here’s how that normally goes: kissing, undressing, foreplay, then finally—fucking. Not that it has to follow that order or anything, but it’s the unspoken schedule that Wonyoung’s written up. God forbid anyone goes against what the princess is comfortable with, not that you’d ever try to either way. Your voice is barely a mumble past her lips—aren’t we supposed to talk about something?—and Wonyoung’s quick to dismiss any queries, “later. There’s always time for it later”. 

So it’s the kiss that’s pulling you back into her. Her front teeth capture your bottom lip, pull, drags it back a little like she’s trying to unwrap you like a present. You hold her waist, and with gentle hands, you push her back against the wall. It’s not that you’re trying to get control or anything; you’re just attempting to give her something to work with, a place to rest as she starts to work on the buttons of your shirt. 

“Are you already naked underneath that?” you whisper, though it’s more of a drawl than a whisper. In response, she momentarily stops with your buttons to slide a section of her bathrobe away, giving you a good look at a column of her naked, milky skin. 

In short: Yes, she is very much naked under that robe.

“Don’t get distracted, my prince. Eyes up here.”

“You’re the one that made me look, princess.”

She’s evidently struggling with the last button of your shirt, and you have to let go of her for a moment to help her get it done. Then it’s off with the shirt, and she flings it against the door for convenience sake. Your belt’s next, and that’s taken care of before you can even say, let me undress you Princess. It does make her hesitate at the clasp of your trousers for a bit. Just for a bit.

“I’d like,” her fingers are moving again, and they’re awfully quick at unfastening your pants, “for you to unwrap me on the bed instead.”

How raunchy of her. Makes you want to try her on.

Your pants fall. Your hand slithers into the bathrobe. Her jaw drops. Wonyoung my darling, and your fingers have captured one of those perky breasts, the right one to be exact. How do you ever—it’s light pressure to the nipple for you; it’s mind melting for her—get away with being such a big slut? Look at you, I’m barely even squeezing here. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes wide, mouth agape and her chin tucked into her neck. Frame it up, take a step back, admire it. It’s the face of someone who’s pent up, the expression of a needy girl who’s been aching to get some dick. Maybe if you guys had met a little sooner, she wouldn’t be this sensitive. But now? A twist of your forefinger and thumb is all it takes to draw a cry out of her, a little more pressure is enough to rain hellfire upon her. What a crazy-hot mess she is; only god knows how to clean her up and get her sorted out.

Open mouth straight to your ear, Wonyoung lets out a breathy gasp. In your fingers, the stiff peak rolls between the pads—back, forth, back, forth: motions that make her weak in her knees. It’s with great effort that she pulls your face back to hers, captures you in her quivering lips. Elegance has long been thrown out the window by now, and it’s not going to be returning for quite some time, as if you ever need it at a time like this. She’s barely holding herself up at this point. Where did the prim proper Jang Wonyoung go? 

The answer’s in her kiss—gone, dusted, she was here just a minute ago though. She’s grasping at whatever inch of your skin she can find, and her nails are definitely gonna be leaving marks on the sides of your neck. You let out a small, wry laugh as you silently observe her behaviour, watching her implore without speaking, badger without requesting. It’s an art form really, the form of expression for the horny and desperate and bratty. When her hands grip your face and her nails sink into your cheek, you pinch a little harder and relish the pleasant vibrations that are sent into your mouth as she gasps. Her palms press into your jaw, and they’d probably crush it if you press any harder. Her feet patter against the wood as she starts to direct you to the bed. You kick off your shoes together with your pants. 

It’s definitely a sight to take in: Jang Wonyoung in a massive king size bed, a thin bathrobe being the only thing between you and that wonderful body being the bathrobe. Maybe if she wasn’t in this state she’s in, she’d gesture to you with a come hither motion, and invite you to remove the fabric from her body. Instead, she opts for a spine tingling mewl, and that’s your invitation to her body. It’s hardly an insinuation; the fact that she wants to be unwrapped like a present is undeniable, she used the word unwrap herself. The bunny knot holding the two pieces of fabric is symmetrical—has Wonyoung’s fingerprints all over it. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s watching you with a half-open mouth, maybe you’d compliment her on her efforts a little, maybe even call her “princess” a couple more times before you properly ruin her.

(But she’s already ruined, ruined by a mere bit of pressure to the nipple. What else can make her tick now?)

Her body is at your mercy and it, quite literally, jerks as you start to pull at the knot, undoing it centimetre by centimetre, millimetre by millimetre, inch by inch. You want to see how long she can watch for, how long she can witness herself be undressed in a painfully slow fashion. Needy as she is, she’s patient as she watches one end of the rope grow longer. 

Longer. 

“Do you want me to speed this up, baby?” The smirk on your face would earn you a pout from her if her nerves weren’t in a bundle at the given moment.

“W-Whatever you want,” she answers, and her voice is brimming with breathy arousal. How are you getting away with all this? She’d grab your wrist and pull by now if she wasn’t so damn needy right now.

You give a dry laugh. “Then I’ll keep at this then.”

Longer.

“Fuck. Just pull it all the way already.” She looks you right in the eye as she begs you to hurry, and now you can see the need brimming in those large, round eyes, the ones that stare back at you with soft intensity, if that’s even possible. She’s good at mixing emotions into her stare.

“I thought you said—”

“Just fucking do it!”

Slack.

And the knot comes undone, and together with it, the robe falls off to the sides of her body—it’s beautiful. Never have you taken so much pleasure in undressing her, but you sure-as-hell have taken this much time to admire that wonderful, slender frame. From your standing view over her, you get down to her level to get a better look at her. It’s all part of the game of course: the way you look her in the eye, the way you touch her jaw ever so slightly to turn it towards you. The kiss is sickly sweet, and she’s starting to taste more and more like that cherry lipstick you gave her when you saw her some time ago at another event. Into your mouth, she lets out a sonorous moan. Your fingertips brush along her skin, slither down from her collarbone to her cleavage—down to that flushed pink region between her equally flushed thighs. Almost instantly, the tip of your digits are coated in slick fluids, and you raise an eyebrow at the girl on the bed.

“I literally touched you.” It’s amusement permeating your voice more than anything. In the sheets, she squirms in the slightest, eyes locked on your fingers that rest against that dripping heat and breath caught in her throat. You know that if you were to shift your finger in the slightest, you’d trigger a chain reaction that you have no power over. Her legs would clamp, her abdomen would tense, her eyes would roll. In the midst of it all, she’d maybe scream, or maybe she’d moan; either way goes. As far as you’re concerned, she’s needy as fuck at the moment, and she’s not going to let anything stop her from cumming.

“Yea, well… I can be sensitive.” Her defence is hardly a solid one, more of a perfunctory reply. Her head’s far from able to formulate a quip to throw back at you; that ability went out the window together with classy Wonyoung. “Put them in.”

You go against her request, and your fingers start to skirt the edges of that swollen, pink slit of hers. A crime—you’re going against the princess’ wishes, but realistically speaking: she can hardly be called a princess at the moment, so why comply? 

A portion of the bathrobe is still clinging on to her breast. You use your other hand to push it away, and the split second of contact makes her flinch. “Jesus. You’re so fucking turned-on right now,” you can’t help but muse, all while your fingers retrace te outline of her swollen lips. She’s shivering, she isn’t breathing quite right. “Do you want to moan, baby? Do you want to moan like a good little slut for me?”

And she fixes you with a glare. “F-Fuck you… Put them in.”

No “please” this time. Shame. If she were more polite, you would’ve obliged; now you’ll just have some more fun with her. 

Your thumb finds the swollen nub, and a little brush is all you need to get her straining like a psycho in a straitjacket. What will I ever do with you Wonyoung?—and she’s getting wetter by the second—You look so pretty when you’re so needy, you know that?—why would you ever, for a second, think that she’d be as refined as the last time? She doesn’t play with herself when she needs to get off; she waits till she sees you again to get off on your cock, your fingers, your mouth. Sexting was off the table, she wants you to be physically there, driving her insane as she lets herself come undone. 

“You know,” and you’re almost laughing as you watch her face twist even further, “that I could do this forever right? I could just lie here, tease you for as long as I want… Or maybe that’s what you want?

She’s messy, so fucking messy. Juices are starting to soak the bed—you can feel it as your fingertips round the bottom of her slit. Housekeeping would certainly question the spot, and the two of you wouldn’t be there to reply anyway. Her cheeks are flushed, the veins of her throat are popping. It takes a considerable amount of effort to stay this composed, but you know that she’s breaking more and more. With each round your fingers make, cracks start to form along that perfectly sculpted face. The fine lines on her forehead begin to show as her brows start to furrow. Strained sounds are coming from her throat as the urge to moan is slowly winning the battle against her will. She wants control, but she can’t have it when she’s a wet, hot mess next to you. She’s being bratty for the sake of it. Your fingers are your leverage against her. It’s killing her. It’s delighting you.

And just like fine China thrown against concrete, her will shatters. 

“Please! Put them in!”

And your fingers stop just at the top of her pussy. It feels like a long minute, but she isn't about to take another second of this. Her thighs clamp against your arm. Her fingers wrap around your wrist in desperation. She begs again. And again. And again. And again, again, again. The bed starts to creak as you start to move your fingers down her lips, down to the very end of her cunt.

God is she dripping.

“Will you moan for me?” you drawl huskily. A finger, two, three rest themselves against her heat. 

“Yes.” There’s barely any of her original self left in there. “Please just—”

The fingers breach her opening. She screams, a high-pitched, keening cry. The noise makes your cock strain in your boxers, and you have to grit your teeth as her inner walls wrap tightly around your intruding digits. A moment of stillness comes, a moment where she’s just breathing raggedly, struggling to process this pleasure that’s racking her body faster than she can comprehend. She’s a ticking time bomb of nerves; the slightest movement in this state could send her into perdition, and she’ll barrel past that point of no return faster than both of you can imagine. God, she’s sensitive. God, she’s a mess. 

The chuckle that departs from your mouth is one of perverse pleasure. “Baby,” you whisper, right into her ear as she struggles to catch her breath. She squeezes her eyes shut, and you watch with a grin as her chest rises and falls. The grip on your wrist is a vice, knuckle-white and unrelenting. She’s begging you, with her eyes, to start moving, and you have to tell her, “I can’t start till you let go of me, baby.”

And it’s with reluctance that she slips her hand off your wrist, but that hand won’t stay empty for long. You guide it to her own breast, and with a soft whisper, you tell her to squeeze. She’s servile. She complies without protest. Her eyes slowly open themselves, and you relish the way they’re lust-glazed appearance looks under warm light while her breaths level themselves out. For a moment, there’s calm. For a moment, it’s tender.

Then your fingers start to move. All hell breaks loose.

Everything she did to calm herself quickly becomes futile; it becomes undone as her back arches in a way that catches your breath in your throat. Your fingers graze her walls, pressed into each other as they slowly draw in and out of her. And mind you: you’re going slow, slow enough to make her feel every bit of your fingers brush against her insides. But it’s enough to make her curse, enough to get her mewling like a damn kitten while her hips start to rock, rubbing her clit against the base of your palm. There’s no way to describe how needy she looks; her want is beyond words, and you’ve barely even started. Three fingers is the most you’ve ever put inside her. Clearly, it’s working wonders for her.

And now you yourself have to admit: you’ve wanted her for some time now. Since the last time you saw her, you’ve fantasised about that slim tummy twitching, about holding that snatched waist once more, about those long legs wrapped around your neck while your tongue and fingers turn her into a pliant plaything. For weeks, you’ve wanted nothing more than pulling Jang Wonyoung apart, reduce her into a withering mess wherever you guys are and get her screaming till she’s sore. You can’t even begin to describe what you’ve done with her in your dreams, nor can you ever convey how it feels to desire her as much as you have. So, you put all of it into action, sordid sentiments channelled into your fingers that are making those cute features twist and contort in perverse pleasure. She’s rambunctious, and her juices are quite literally soaking your hand, spilling the strongest sillage of lust all over the bed. 

“Why do you always have to be so fucking messy?” You’re really just trying to see how much you can get away with at this point, though the answer seems to be: just about everything. Your fingers start moving faster. You love the way her cheeks are starting to flush even more. “Are you always this wet? Or is it just for me?”

The squelching is lewder than you can ever imagine. The sound of her slick, wet heat being breached by your fingers is enthralling. Add the sounds she’s making into that and you have the ultimate erotica audio that can bless mankind. She’s panting, she’s moaning, she’s whining—she’s doing it all really, and you’re just using your fingers. God knows how she’ll react once you’re inside of her, rock hard meat stretching her out instead of a few fingers fiddling around in warm walls. 

But hey, the sounds she’s making are ever so erotic, and she’s definitely making your blood flow to all the right places. She feels out of place; you can’t put your finger on what’s wrong in this whole thing. It’s probably a small detail, something you’d overlook over the sight of her chest heaving as air shoots out and gets sucked back into her mouth, her whole body straining and convulsing against the bed while you get a thumb on her clit and rub at a languid tempo. Probably something miniscule, not worth mentioning because all your attention is focused on the look on her face (you want to mess up the makeup so badly it’s almost frustrating). And no, you’re not trying to make her cum in five seconds; she’s just really riled up—bundle of nerves and trigger happy. Probably hasn’t been treated this way in a while, probably hasn’t had three fingers twisting around, sliding in and out of that tight wet hole slow enough to make her feel every bit of skin against her walls; fast enough to make her combust if you were to speed up, in, like, forever. 

“I–I…” She’s quite literally mewling, and the sharpness in her voice is so cutting that it makes an incision in a bag inside you that’s keeping all the perverse thoughts at bay. The thoughts are leaking out now, and it’s almost impossible to stuff them back in. You want her against the glass: tits against the window and ass in your hands while you pump and pump and pump into that slick tight hole; you want nothing more but to pick her up and have her lock her legs around you, tight frame flushed against you while you nail her against one of these walls that surround you; you want to unhinge that jaw and watch that pretty mouth—now parted to let the stream of moans flow—take your cock in and out between those kiss-swollen lips and watch the drool leak out the corners of her mouth. Shit. It’s killing you. Jang Wonyoung, dolled up. She’s killing you. 

(No way in hell are thighs meant to be this hot, and lips are not  supposed to look this delicious. Yet Jang Wonyoung somehow goes against every fucking norm, fights it naturally and effortlessly and wins like a seasoned warrior. So just for her case: her thighs can be this hot and flushed, and her lips can look this fucking appetising. You kiss her; it’s sloppy, it’s lewd, it’s hot and everything in between. Mark her neck, mark that row of skin above her right collarbone, mark her everywhere. Cusses are flying—god forbid her agency finds out about the things hse says while she’s getting fingered. She's making a mess out of herself. She’s making a mess out of you.

Fingers, just fingers and she’s already looking like this: hair fanned out, frazzled, looking like she just went through a car wash and yet somehow has her make-up intact. Fuck. You want to watch the mascara run, watch it streak while she tears up as she’s choking down cum and she’s struggling to take in air. Pretty little princess, messy and glacially being turned into some improper slut. It’s hard to not smirk while you ruin her with the same fingers you use to type articles about her—fingers that sing praises and can also make her moan enough to make her throat hoarse.)

The rhythm of your hand makes her body roll. Her toes–painted over, fresh manicure—curl into the sheets. Doe-like eyes stare back at you, plump red lips part to gasp your name, throat muscles strain trying to  curse and moan at the same time. The fingers are gliding in and out and in and out and she’s begging you to not stop (like hell you ever would) in those choke up little sobs while she’s—

Oh fuck baby I can’t I can’t I can’t — Anything. I’ll do anything. Please just let me cum. I’m so fucking close baby. Please just let me fucking cum. I’ll be a good girl. I-I promise I’ll be a good fucking girl for you just… Fuck!

—blue screening on your fingers: lost in the sauce or whatever. Pliant plaything, docile doll. You’re certain she hasn’t gotten off in at least a month if the way she’s taking it is any sort of yardstick. She’s far beyond drenched, far beyond salvation and way off the deep end of the “needy” pool—drowning herself in her own sea of sighs and gasps and moans and loose phonics that slip out of her mouth. Ostinato of your fingers squelching in her cunt; half time rhythm of the creaky bed; melody of the chorus of Jang Wonyoung’s voice—music to your ears.

And there’s lots to unpack from the moment you locate that soft spot at the top of her pussy. There’s a lot of cussing, a lot of jolting, a fair amount of whining and your name is thrown somewhere in that mix. You find her lips, she kisses back, one of her hands grabs your arm, nails dig in and stay there. Flurry of actions, filthy language—fucking hell, someone stop her.

Bottom line: lots of action. You find it congenial to start from the part where it quite literally ends her world. Once your digits curled up into that sensitive patch of flesh, it was all over for her.

You can pinpoint the exact moment where the orgasm rips through her body, the exact moment where her muscles seized so perfectly that her back arches. The pulse around your fingers is strong, walls tight around your digits and your thumb gently rubbing on her clit while the pleasure rolls through her body, molten iron libido converting the feeling between her thighs to electricity that makes her short circuit. The moan is breathy if anyone’s asking, and the look on her face—twisted, perverse satisfaction: superimposing need and want—has a whole foot over the line of pornographic. Wires are fraying in her head, her vocal cords are strained, she’s ruining the sheets with her juices; you’re complicit in every damn part of this, and guilt is the last thing on your mind.

Then her back falls back flat against the mattress, and the sheets ripple as her body makes a dense thump against the bed, punctuating the sigh she releases into the air. Nerves are unbundling themselves. She’s sweaty and panting. Your fingers are beyond soaked.

“Messy,” you muse, slowly drawing your juice slicked fingers out of her cunt. You bring them to her mouth. She languidly tastes herself, sweat-darkened sheets hugging the muscles of her shoulders and lining her ribs. She looks so tiny in the bed if you looked over the fact that her legs were dangling over the edge of the mattress, and that’s easy to do once you lean in for a kiss.

(It’s not hard to slip your tongue into her mouth, and there’s barely any fight left in her as you roll her nipple between your index finger and thumb. The sweat-matted hair sticking to her forehead adds a nice touch to her face.)

“Such a good girl.” Your tone is warm as you praise her, and a hand moves to cup her cheek in an act of tenderness. Her eyelids flutter shut. She puts the weight of her face into your palm. 

“Do I get my reward now?” she whispers, and it’s more of a plea than a question really. You take a moment, not to think, but to drag out the suspense for a little more before you give her an answer. You take guilty pleasure in knowing that you could keep her on tenterhooks for the whole night—the only thing stopping you is the throbbing of your cock in your boxers and the look of sheer need on her face. If you could: you’d drag this out a little longer, maybe tease her a little and call her more names. You still could do that, but you’d much rather fuck her instead. 

“Where do you want it?” your thumbs hook into the waistband of your boxers and hook them down. Your cock springs free from its cottons confines, and Wonyoung’s eyes instantly dart to it. She may be a little obsessed with your cock, but only a little when she’s depraved (which is right now). Before you can even react, she has your shaft in her hand, lanky fingers wrapped around it and pumping it with considerate strokes. 

“I want a big load in my ass.” she requests, far from innocent and banking more towards improper, which seems to be a pretty big theme of hers tonight. “I’ve been wanting to feel daddy’s  hot load leaking out of my ass for a long time…” The strokes delivered to your length grow firmer and firmer by the second. “Please?”

The spikes of pleasure her small hand delivers to your system is really making it hard to say no at the given moment. Of course, she’s well aware of it, and she’s definitely feeling so damn smug right now. And so with a very clouded mind, you nod. She smiles smugly, unaware that you’re about to fuck that smug little smirk rig of her pretty face. Conveniently, she’s already on her back—it’ll make the process so much easier. 

“I take it that the lube is in your bag?” You raise. She grins and nods. 

Sure enough, you find it in the exact same place as it usually is: side pocket, right next to her lipstick. You toss it towards her and move around her, slip her ankles over her shoulders. She lies still, unmoving and obedient as her left calf goes past her head, then her right. You lean forward, and she gasps as she's almost bent her completely in half. She’s flexible; this position won’t bring any harm to her, but it is congenial to ruin her asshole and leave her sore for the next day or so, which is exactly what she wants, but probably not how she imagined herself getting it. She cracks open the lube, and with precision, squirts a generous amount of it on the tight ring of her ass, making eye contact with you all the while as the clear liquid gathers at the puckered ring of muscle. The tube is discarded to a side when she’s done, and she uses her hands to spread her asscheeks for you, inviting you to take your liberties with her hole.

“Come on Daddy,” she urges you. “Come fuck this ass,” she continues, her hands spreading her ass cheeks even wider as you start to line yourself up with the tight ring. “Wreck this fucking hole Daddy, I can fucking take it.”

To hear her say those words was almost enough to have you cum right there and then. You press the tip of your cock at the open, gaping hole of her ass, swirling it around the entrance, collecting more of the copious amounts of lube around it. She was generous with the amount of lube she dispensed; you're about to be generous with the strokes you're gonna make inside that ass.

(She yelps when you slide inside her ass. God does it feel so fucking divine.)

She is so tight and wet and hot that you think you could’ve cum with your first thrust inside her. Her pussy was tight and hot, but her ass was even tighter and even hotter. Even though your cock was slick with lube, it did close to nothing to keep the sheer tightness of her asshole from clenching around you like it was a really small glove. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been inside her ass, but it sure as hell felt like a novelty every single time you entered that tight ring of muscle. Fuck. The heat, the tightness—sublime. You think you could cum in a matter of seconds if you didn’t have self control.

“Go!’ she hisses, through the pain and discomfort. “Fuck me. Fuck my ass!”

You would have been happy to stay there, buried balls deep in Wonyoung’s ass, but her own words goad you into moving—slowly at first, but with a steadily increasing pace, you begin to fuck Wonyoung’s ass with long, slow strokes. She hisses—part glee, part discomfort—as your shaft starts to pump itself in and out of her ass. You draw yourself out till only the base of you tip remains inside of her, and then you thrust back in, hard, hard enough to make her yelp out in pained pleasure while she grits her teeth and watches your rock hard shaft fill her ass. It's a perverse show for her, and it brings you a sort of dark satisfaction in knowing that past all that discomfort she’s feeling, she loves the way your cock stretches her out and fills her defenceless little hole. 

With her ankles over your shoulders, you’re practically spearing yourself vertically into her ass, fucking her deep and making her feel every inch of your throbbing meat inside of that hot, tight hole. Every penetration is punctuated by a deep, guttural groan from Wonyoung, sometimes a curse, or something along the lines of: fuck. So fucking full. You know for a fact that the pained sounds you hear now will turn into airy gaps of pleasure once she gets used to the discomfort, and that she’d probably be a mewling mess by the time you reach the stage where she can take you in and out of her ass with only pleasure in her system and no pain. For now, you’ll settle with the pace you have—slow, long strokes in and out of her ass while she squeezes her eyes to block out all sensations distracting her from enjoying the sensation of her ass being filled with cock. You have to admit that she’s doing a great job at it, and your praise vocalises itself in the rather harsh form of, “what a good little slut.” 

(And here’s something interesting you noted: never once in this whole thing did she ask you to stop, nor did you ever think about stopping to let her adjust. If this was anyone else, you would have given them a moment to breathe upon entering, and you certainly would be checking on their wellbeing throughout it all. 

Thing is—the two of you know her too well to know that you could only dream of stopping once you got started with her, and it could only end in two ways. 1) You cum in her. 2) You cum on her. Edge her and you’ll never get the end of it, you would know. The last time you pulled a stunt on her like that, she left you tied to a chair with a vibrator taped to your cock till you were begging and a cummy mess. It wasn’t pretty. She could dominate if she wanted to, but she preferred to be a manipulative brat instead.)

It’s not long before she’s desensitised to the pain, and your slow pace is not enough, no, not for Wonyoung. Next thing you know it, she hissing for you to go faster, fuck her harder—I told you to fuck my ass Daddy. Don’t hold back on me now—and deeper. She swears, all three languages that she knew strung together shabbily like they were put together on some shitty production line and thrown out at random—and while you made little sense of the sounds coming out of her filthy mouth you knew what they meant.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

Then you fuck her ass. Hard and fast.

You almost surprised yourself with the liberties you were taking, drilling in and out of her butt with the same speed and depth that you would use with her mouth and pussy.

“Yes!” she shouts—a loud, full shout. “Yes! Fuck me like this! Pound me, fuck me until you cum in my slutty little ass!”

You grunt in reply, because it was all you could do. The faculties of human language have long since abandoned your grasp and ability, and nothing else exists in your mind except the thought of filling her tight, hothole with warm, white semen. Her eyes lock with yours and you only find that they’re full of need, nothing else (not like she’s capable of displaying any other emotion at the moment). The rest of you, every fibre of your being, was focused on pounding Wonyoung’s tight little hole as hard and fast as you possibly could. Her ankles bounce helplessly behind your head, her knees press into her shoulders and her breath is ragged; sweat drips off your forehead and onto her tits, and your hot breath mixes with hers as you struggle to keep yourself propped up with your arms.

In short: the two of you are sweaty and messy (one more so than the other. Take a pick, not sure if there’s a prize for guessing right), victims of lust and slaves to pleasure. You blame Wonyoung just because you can.

For a few delicious moments, there is absolutely nothing in the world aside from the tight hot sheath of flesh around your cock, the warm flesh of her legs against your shoulders and the strands of sweat-slick hair that fly just about everywhere, all topped with the lewd, filthy, obscene words spilling from Wonyoung’s mouth. For a few delicious moments, she feels nothing but the feeling of her tight hole being stretched and used by the cock that turns her face into a wrought outlet of pleasure while she lets filthy words and exclamations spill from her lips. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t have it last forever. Not when you were already so turned on from watching her writhe and twitch under your fingers. Not when the sheer, pure pleasure overwhelming you was more than enough to cause you to cum at any moment.

And when she orgasms for the second time, her ass tightening exponentially around you—there is little you or anyone else could have done to stop the inevitable.

“I’m gonna cum in your ass, Wonyoung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, your lust and pleasure-addled brain on the edge of losing all comprehension.

“Cum with me! Fill me!” 

And so you do it, burying yourself hilt deep inside the quivering woman’s asshole before filling it with the last of your cum, giving her every last drop you had left in your body, leaving rope after rope inside her sore, well-used, cum-filled asshole. You almost black out, and you quite literally have to dig your nails into the sheets while Wonyoung’s own orgasm takes over her body, making her twitch and her ass contract—milking every last bit of cum from your throbbing, twitching length till it was nothing but a dry, hard rod inside of her creamy asshole. 

There’s silence that is punctuated by both of your ragged breaths. She looks at you, you look at her. And the two of you can’t help but chuckle at the mess you’ve made of each other. You want to remember the way her nose wrinkles as she teases you, “you fucking animal”, and you want, so badly, to burn the image of a sweaty, weary Jang Wonyoung, folded in half beneath you like she was a piece of origami paper, panting and gasping as a fresh load of cum spills out of her ass. 

It takes energy, but you bend down and kiss her, letting her sweaty calves slide off your equally sweaty shoulders as you do. She’s satisfied, for now, and she pulls you down next to her on the hotel bed with one hand and gathers the cum leaking out of her ass with the other. 

“Look at this,” she whispers, and your eyes train themselves on the pearlescent, sticky, slimy, fluids that run down from her fingertips slowly. “You made such a big mess inside my ass,” she chides before bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking your cum right off her fingers like it’s a delicacy. “Now I have to clean all of this up. You’re lucky I like the way your cum tastes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Um… Ew?”

Wonyoung smirks and gently nudges you with her left foot.

“It’s okay,” she tells you, all smug and everything. “I know you love the way I taste too.”

* In the dark, her small hand creeps around your torso and grasps yours. 

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” She’s whispering right into your ear, and it’s a sensation you want to be able to hold on to for the rest of your life. “I know your eyes are open.” The feel of her small fingers rolling the knuckle of your index finger sticks itself in your head like a post-it. “ I can hear and feel you tossing, you know?”

Okay. No dodging. 

The sheets stay still as your shoulders turn. You roll over, face her, and you really just want to capture the way the night lights paint her face: doe-like eyes reflecting glimmering pools of moonlight, warm yellow light painting her cute-yet-so-fucking-gorgeous face in a manner that not even Van Goh could copy, lips parted slightly as if in mid speak. She’s right there—you can kiss her if you really want to.

“Are you still mad at me?” She asks, tender with her tone. “I know that I fucked up, okay?” You can tell that she’s not even trying to look pitiful at the moment, but the way her face is sculpted really makes you want to just hold her to your chest and stroke her hair. Sincere are her words—heart heaved into her mouth. “I don’t blame you if you’re still mad. It’s your right. But… Just hear me out? Please?”

If you were mad, you wouldn’t have let her hold your hand the way she was now. If you were mad, you would’ve pretended to be fast asleep; ignore her pleas and just close your eyes and fall asleep. Alas, you can never stay mad at her for too long.

“I was… Never really angry, Wony.” Your tone is a lot softer than you would ever expect, but you know it’s because you probably needed this talk more than she did. “I... I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

And she studies you for a moment, lets the sound of your breathing fill the space as she furls her upper lip into her front teeth, and it’s a perfect moment for you to try and understand what’s happening in her head. She’s a complex creature really; understanding her is like finding a meaning that everyone can agree on when you look at abstract art.

Down below, you can still hear the cars moving through the street. Billboards and screens are still on, and from the window in your bedroom, multi-coloured lights filter into the room past the blinds like moonlight through bamboo leaves. The sheets you lie in are fresh, and they feel nice and smooth against your skin, and they smell like roses. The mattress creaks a little as Wonyoung shifts her weight, and you have to admit that you’re half-drunk on the scent of her shampoo. 

“You must have been scared,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I got really emotional. I… I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that. Not now at least. Maybe it’ll come to you the next morning.

You give her a sweet smile. You hug her to your chest. You want to remember how she feels in your arms.

*

The gentle trickle of water down the arch of her spine is really something—a steady stream flowing down her back, running over the muscles of her shoulders, the curve of her breasts and fraying at her plump ass. You can’t remember the last time you showered with her, but you certainly remember the view being this good. 

In the shower of room 302, Jang Wonyoung lets the warm water hit her skin from the rain shower nozzle. Her hair—wet and freshly shampooed (and conditioned)—sticks to her back. Creamy skin glistens, small beads of water affix themselves to random parts of her body, stay there for one or two seconds, then roll down in streaks, almost as if they too were admiring Wonyoung’s well-sculpted figure.

Slim fingers grasp locks of hair. She lifts and looks over her shoulder, the whisper of a grin on her face as she shoots a beckoning wink. “Are you gonna help me soap my back? Or are you just gonna keep staring at my ass?”

“Don’t you have to, like, turn off the water first?” you ask, and you already know what she’s gonna say, but you just want to hear her say it. For memory sake.

“Mmmm.” Her humming as she ‘ponders’ reverberates in the shower, floating over the sound of water from the shower head falling to the floor like rain. “No… Adds to the atmosphere, don’t you think?” 

Ah. There we go.

“Then could you at least step back?” you request. This shower is comically huge—long length, breadth about the same length as your arm span. In the space, she looks so tiny, but you know for a fact that she could probably walk to the other end of the shower in a stride. You’re not one to disregard the facts, but you do like to live with a bit of imagination.

Wonyoung chuckles, low and sonorous. She pushes her hair over her shoulder, then—painfully slowly—walks back till she’s out of the stream of water. Water wastage is the last thing on her mind. She stops when she feels your hands on her back, and she looks over her shoulder, expectant. You move your hands and the soap lathers as it’s spread. You start from the centre of her back, rubbing gently in the section where the muscles of her shoulders meet and working your way outwards and upward to her shoulders. Then it’s down from there, your palms moving in small circles and covering every inch of skin.

“You’re good at this,” she mutters, watching with intent as your hands start to trail to her lower back. “Maybe you should’ve been a masseuse instead of a writer.”

“Uh… Patronising much?” You chuckle, watching as her back muscles twitch a little when you apply gentle pressure. “The pay’s about the same,” the soap makes patterns across the area above her ass—spirals of foam that stick to her skin like styrofoam flowers. “The hours are probably the same… But I don’t think I can live on rubbing someone’s back really hard. I Think I’ll just save this service for you, but only for when we meet.”

Humored, Wonyoung offers a giggle, high pitched and cutting above the sound of water striking the floor tiles. She shifts her weight to her right foot, making her body slant a little. Her skin is soft under your palms. Your hands are going lower and lower, slowly spiralling towards the curve of her ass that’s literally just a centimetre away.

“You know…If you take up my offer, you can do this for me everyday.”

Your hands slow to a stop. You raise your head a little to find her searching for your gaze over her shoulder. “Oh?”

“Yea.” Her voice is low, like a mother trying to persuade her child to eat their vegetables. “Every night, we can be like this: you soaping my back, us chatting… Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

Your lip furls behind your front teeth. “Yea… It really does.”

And in her gaze, you sense her sensing your apprehension. “What’s stopping you from taking it up then?”

(For context, here’s the deal proposed by her company: the two of you go public with the relationship, get clout for the company, and Starship will let you lead your lives together—no qualms, no disturbances. She can visit you whenever, live with you, appear outside together with you like it’s a regular Tuesday night; you get to date the girl you fell in love with all those years ago for real. Only issue: once you get the last stroke of your signature out on the contract, you practically agree to blurring the line between your private and public life. Press will be all over you like ants after you step on their nest, you probably won’t get to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace, everyone will suddenly want to curry favours with you… Was it worth the sacrifice?)

You find it hard to meet her eyes, and so your gaze affixes itself on your hands. It’s not like you don’t love her or anything, but your apprehension makes you feel like shit. It shouldn’t be this hard to say yes, yet the idea of selling your life of privacy to live a life with her makes you screech to a halt at the crossroads. Sometimes (in these moments), you wished that you didn’t always make decisions with your head and your heart. 

As the shower continues to run, Wonyoung slowly turns around. One hand finds yours, the other gently takes you by the chin and raises your eyes up to her. She’s tall, and the two of you are staring eye to eye; same height, different trains of thought.

The hand on yours guides you to her breast. Eyes locked with yours, she lays your palm flat against her tit. The skin beneath your fingers is slippery, but it doesn’t remove any of the familiarity from the sensation. Then she squeezes, and the flesh spills out between your fingers like putty. She gasps—airy. 

“Don’t you want me?” She whispers, and it’s raunchy more than anything. It isn’t aggressive, but it’s certainly blurring the line between demanding and caring. “Don’t you want to be able to fuck this pretty little pussy every night?”

She’s really far from home base. “Wony…”

“Don’t you love owning me?” She’s squeezing harder. Her knee twitches. Sopa’s spilling out of your fingers. You’re certain that you’re gonna mark her. She doesn’t care. “Don’t you want me all over you? Every night?”

“It’s not that Wonyoung.”

“Then what’s on your mind?” She’s not prodding for an answer, nor is she trying to demand a reason for your silence. She wants to understand you, to internalise what’s going on inside your head. You have no reason to lie.

“Will it all really be okay?” you ask sincerely. “My family, my life… Will… Will it all really be…”

She understands where you’re coming from (if the relieving of pressure around her own breast is any indication), and she’s starting to tune herself to the frequency of your worries. “If you’re wondering if you’re gonna be harassed—you won’t.”

“Yea but—”

“I promise you: I will do everything I can to make sure that you will be safe. You and your family–if so much as a finger is laid on any of you, I will quit.”

“Wonyo—”

“No one will intrude on you. You won’t have to live with the flashing lights. I give you my word: I will make sure that everyone who wants to invade your privacy will leave you alone. You and your family will all be left alone.”

If it’s possible for sincerity to ring clear, Jang Wonyoung has absolutely made it happen. Sweet like honey; she’s left you feeling like you had a spoonful of it. And just for good measure, she steps closer and repeats once more: “I promise.”

Considering that your hand was at the left side of her chest, this was really a “I swear. Hand to my heart” type of deal (whether it’s intended or not is purely up to your discretion). 

And as you gaze into those eyes, you want to remember the way she gazes at you softly, gently, tenderly. If it weren’t for your hand on her tit, you would’ve considered this one of the more tender moments you’ve shared with her. Not that it’s not or anything… Just that it’s a little hard to call this a loving moment when you can literally feel her nipple poking into the flesh of your palm at all times of the conversation.

“Are you sure you won’t land yourself in trouble?” you ask her, and she’s quick to scoff.

“Of course. I make too much fucking money fo those higher up fuckers to not listen to me,” she reminds you. 

Well… Then that settles about everything then.

“Okay,” you tell her. “Okay… I’ll do it.”

The corners of her lips play up in a smile. She leans in, kisses you—no tongue, closed mouth—and lets the hand keeping yours at her breast fall. Long arms wrap around your waist and she pulls you close, flushing her tight frame against your body. When lips part, she whispers a soft I love you, a sparkle in eyes that lingered for a moment.

But only for a moment.

Then—without you noticing—her hand snakes down and grips your rapidly hardening shaft, and she squeezes. This time, the line between demanding and caring is clear as day, and she’s chosen to play her ball to the court of demanding. With a gleam in her eye, she begins stroking with her closed fist, and she pumps your stiff length at a slow but steady rhythm, adding an occasional twisting motion to her wrist, corkscrewing her fingers around your cock, increasing the pleasurable shocks she was sending through your system with each pump of her hand. It was almost like she wasn’t the sweetest, loving girl in the whole world just two seconds ago.

“Jesus fucking…” You can’t even finish your sentence. Your teeth grit. Your fists clench. It’s hard to breathe. “Maybe… A little bit of a heads up next time?”

She smirks proudly, watching as you tilt your head back and let out a groan. “Where’s the fun in that?” And gently, she pushes against your chest, guides you to the wall. When your back presses against the cool tile, she presses herself against you. She leans in, hot breath on your skin, and then the feeling of her lips against your jaw almost makes you yelp. She kisses a path down your jaw, paves a way towards your neck to get cheeky: sucking, nibbling, licking the skin of your neck while she keeps the movement of her hands slow and considerate. The shower continues to run.

Do you know—she breaks contact with your skin for just a second—how fucking horny—her breath’s tickling your ear, sending shivers down your spine—you make me?—and she squeezes a little harder around your shaft, not enough for it to hurt, but enough to feel you throb in your hand and make you gulp a little. She starts going faster—jerking, fucking pumping your length in her closed fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your eyes open; your eyelids flutter shut. Your head rests against the wall, a sigh slipping past your lips. It’s filthy really—down from the way she catches you off guard to the way she makes your skin sore after she’s done feasting. Almost every interaction with her in a private space is as X-rated as this; it’s hard not to get into a situation like this around her. You know: a situation where the two of you are naked and getting really touchy and actively trying to get each other as many times as humanly possible. 

“Fuck yes baby…” you rasp, your nails starting to eat into your palms as she the sound of her hand sliding up and down your dick starts to cut above the steady stream of water. With each rise of her hand, the pad of her thumb plays with the head of your member, and when it sinks down, she twists her wrist in a screwing motion. Rinse and repeat; up and down and up and down and fuck. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

She hums in reply, and she has your earlobe between her teeth the next second, nicking you mischievously, sending small pricks of pain shooting through your system as she adjusts her grip on your cock without ever breaking her motion. Next thing you know, your tongue is inside your ear, and she’s leaning in so close that when you open your eyes, you’re practically looking over her shoulder, looking down the curve of her back that glistens with moisture and soap bubbles.

“I love this cock so fucking much,” she whispers, a bit of a hiss in her words as she takes the head of your cock between her forefinger and thumb and pinches lightly. “It stretches me out when I need it.” her fingers start to trail down your slipper shaft, letting the smoothness of her palm rub against your whole length, “fills me when I want it.” She’s milking the precum out of you, making you all leaky and squirmy as she starts pumping faster. “And it’s so fucking big that I can choke on it. You know how much I love being choked.”

She chooses that last bit to make eye contact with you, and she’s practically served you what she wants next on a silver platter. The next move is clear cut and simple; no words need be spoken. You were going to fuck her—and you mean properly fuck her—with a hand wrapped around that small throat. How you were gonna do it was still a mystery, but you figured that it’d slowly come to you, but it will definitely be related to the mirror and the sink outside and the mirror in front of it. At once, you reach over to the handle of the shower, and you turn it down to the handheld showerhead mode. Wonyoung bites her bottom lip, perverse glee painted all over her face as you use it to wash the soap off her back. She’s watching, waiting, probably drenched down there and aching to be stuffed full of cock.

She’s almost shaking with excitement as you finish washing all the soap off her body. You’d hardly consider her clean, but it won’t hurt to hop back into the shower again once you're done with her. The shower door swings open and you’re cupping her pussy, dripping wet while stumbling out with her, lips locked on hers and her hand on your cock as you push her against the sink of her hotel room. From the moment her mouth opens and let the moans pour out while you rub her clit to the moment her hand leaves your cock to cradle your face, she’s practically radiating need from the pores of her skin. You can’t help but playfully remark, “you’re such a fucking loser”, while your thumb thumps against her clit and sends pleasure tearing through her system. Weak in the knees, she holds on to you for support.

And the moans (those fucking hair-raising moans), they tumble out of those plump lips like marbles down a ramp, and they mix with the sound of your lips smacking against her skin as you start to leave a trail of kisses down her neck, doing to her what she did to you in the shower; you give her a taste of her own medicine, and the way she’s titling her head back to let you mark her freely makes it almost seem as if it’s the intended outcome of her actions. It’s like she knew that you would get back at her, and it wouldn’t come as a surprise if you ever find out that she gets off on knowing that she can manipulate you in her own bratty ways—get you wrapped around her finger and have you doing all the things she wants you to do without having to tell you. Not that you have something to gripe about it, but you’re just so amused (and that’s just one word to describe how you feel) by how she goes about her ways.

“Come on,” she manages to whisper, all while you’re busy sucking on the skin just below her collarbone till it’s sore. She has a lot of pride in her voice for someone who’s quite literally quivering. “You know you want to fuck me. Give me a good creampie again.” 

You lift your head for a moment, and you take in the look of almost childlike excitement on her face as your hand finds its way to her throat. It’s perverse excitement, that lewd exhilaration of knowing that she was about to get what she wanted, and albeit a little messed up, it was pretty hot in its own way. When your fingers gently wrap themselves around her throat, you can feel every muscle in her body tense in anticipation, as if she didn’t get enough from the bedroom earlier.

“Up on the counter baby. Let me see how messy you are down there,” you whisper.

She knows what to do, and she has herself propped up on the counter and engaged in open mouth kissing. She doesn’t need you to tell her to spread her legs, and she definitely doesn’t need you to tell her how cute she sounds when your fingers slip inside of her, feeling around the mess you’ve made of her and coating your digits in her fluids. Your index and middle finger are slick with her juices when you retract them from inside her, and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“Messy as ever,” you muse, making a show of sucking her juices clean off your fingers. She’s sweet and borderline tangy—a taste that you’re accustomed to, and you will never get tired of it. She’s biting down on her lower lip, the skin wrinkling under the pressure of her front teeth as she makes a sound that’s close to a purr. 

“You made the mess.” She has her eyes locked on yours as you raise an eyebrow, prompting her to follow up after her first statement. Not that you didn’t know what was coming, but more that you wanted to gently coax it out of her, because it was so fucking hot to hear what she had to say next. “You clean it up.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. She watches you with intent eyes as you sink down to your knees, waits with bated breath as you lower your face till the glistening, pink folds of her pussy are right in front of your face, flushed thighs around your ears. Her excitement is almost palpable, and you can hear the sharp inhale she takes when your palm finds its place on the inside of her left thigh, pushing gently to give you better access to her heat (you’re really just trying to drag out the tension if you were being completely honest with yourself). You lick your lips, lean forward till your mouth is hovering above her slit. 

“You better moan for me this time,” you tell her, and you’re making sure to make your breath hit her slick as you speak. “You have such a wonderful voice. Put it to use.”

Praise mixed with the slight hint of authority—it’s enough to make her nod furiously and implore you with doe eyes to just get on with it. With a smirk, your lips find the swollen nub at the top of her entrance. You suck on it. Hard. And almost at once, her thighs clamp around your ears and her hand is on your head, like it’s some sort of natural instinct for her when you’re eating her out. Keeping to her word, she cries out—keening, whiny and ever so fucking bratty, and it’s the the holy grail of every wet dream. Nothing in the world could bring you more satisfaction than that shrill, airy cry she lets out when the pleasure ripples through her body, and you’re just getting started. 

Your mouth opens and your tongue flattens itself against her folds, (She tastes so good. You want all of it, all of her) and you drag it up her folds, deliberately, painfully slow as you start to lick up that wet cunt. Her back arches; you can feel her struggling to keep a hold of your head; she throws her head back and lets out a gasp; her thighs clamp down a little harder around your head. The pleasure in her system builds up with the slow movement of your tongue, only rising and rising as you lick from the base of her slit to the mid section to the top. When the tip of your tongue flicks her clit, it's almost like an explosion, enough for her other hand to join its pair atop your head, enough to make her cry out in a perverse plea, “Daddy, please!”

(For the record: she’s wanted this from the moment you guys stepped into the shower. She’s willingly turned herself into some pliant little plaything, and she’s probably getting off so hard to it. Frankly, if she wanted to order you around, you’d be up to it, but this is what she prefers.)

And nothing else needs to be said really. You put your whole mouth on her—relishing the shiver that runs up from her thighs up to her body—and get right into making a wreck of her. You lick, you devour, you ravish her: working your mouth on her pussy, lapping up the juices that spill forth from flushed lips with broad, sharp strokes that make her body grow taut and her legs quiver. You tongue her clit, lick up sweet fluids, make her messy and needy and hot in all the right areas till she’s drilling her nails into the back of your scalp and pushing your face against her sweet slick. In half whispers, she tells you just how good you make her feel—oh Daddy I’m so fucking wet!—and you feel a dark part of yourself be fed by these lecherous words—Oh god oh fuck I’m gonna fucking cum if you keep… Fuck!—that leave her half-parted mouth and linger in the air, reminding you of just how wanton she is and how you’re the only person in the world she ever wants to fuck and be satisfied by. You’re hers; she’s yours—a relationship with Jang Wonyoung that any guy would kill for. 

“Daddy—” she gaps, her voice a whole octave higher than it should be as her nails turn into claws at the back of your head. “Fuck I’m cumming. Daddy I’m cumming!”

The pulsing of her pusy against your tongue grows. You continue licking, lapping. One stroke, two strokes—three. She moans, blue screens. You hazard a look up.

Nothing else matters. Only: the sight of that back arching off the marble counter, her thighs around your head trembling and quaking as her hips roll and her mouth parts in a silent scream. You’re certain that there’s blood being drawn from the back of your head, but you're more certain that she’s got enough heat in her core to melt molten iron but a lack of breath that makes her gasp for air as you lick and lick and lick your way into her. You can feel her orgasm getting closer by the second, it’s in her breathing, and in the way her hips are practically thrusting her into your mouth.

And just like the bathrobe from earlier, she comes undone—falls apart and ceases to keep control of her body. She tenses, her thighs go rigid around your ears. Her breath is caught in her throat, her eyes are closed. You stop your work, admire the way she glows as her body twitches and her face twists. Pleasure rips its way through her muscles, her nerves—splits her very being in half as the orgasm rolls through her system. She’s beautiful, and she’s a messy work of art that you’ve created. 

You rise to your feet as she winds down, and her hands leave your head to rest on the counter while her body struggles to process the aftermath of that orgasm. It’s not the first time she’s cum for the night, and it certainly won’t be the last. Her eyes open, and she instantly locs them on you as you brush back some of the hair that sticks to her sweat slicked face. You take her hand and give a gentle tug, and she slips off the counter obediently. You grip her jaw—tenderly but rough enough for her to like it—and tell her to turn around. Servile, she obeys, and in the reflection of the mirror, she watches as your hand snakes its way to her throat and grips it. You’re not squeezing, not yet. 

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy now,” you drawl, gripping your shaft in your hand and slapping it against her slit. The contact makes her shudder, but she remains silent as you place a kiss on her cheek. “Your face is gonna be so pretty when I choke you and fill you.”

“Yes Daddy.” Her reply is a whisper, a borderline drawl that’s airy and raunchy and makes your hairs stand on their ends. She’s looking at you through the mirror, plump lips slightly parted and eyes glassy. “Own me. I’m yours, forever.”

And you’re all too happy to hear that from her.

You slip into her, hilt yourself inside her in one swift motion. 

(Tight. Hot. Wet. So tight.)

She lets out a sigh, low and sonorous, harmonising with your own groan as you press her against the edge of the counter and make the fingers around her throat squeeze. The sound that leaves her throat is the sound of her sigh being truncated, and it delights that dark part of you. Being inside Wonyoung was otherworldly, as it always was, but here, in the bathroom of her hotel, on the night where you’ve agreed to seal a deal with her, she felt downright heavenly.  She squeezes her walls around you, her body thankful for the sensation of being filled by cock, if the intense tightness and slick wetness were any indication; she looks over her shoulder and bites her bottom lip. And when she has your gaze, she mouths something. 

Fill me.

The silence is deafening, but it’s all you need to hear. 

When you withdraw your glistening shaft for the first time you relish in the feel of her walls gripping you, not wanting to release you—but just as quickly they welcome you back inside as you penetrate her again. Soon you are pumping in and out of her at a slow, steady pace, her soft gasps turning quickly into long, drawn out moans as she is fucked against the marble. Her hands steady her body against the counter, her back arched in a way that lets you get a wonderful top-down view of her breasts as they roll together with her body. It’s a concerted effort, but she makes it seem effortless. 

“Be honest.” With the hand around her throat, her voice sounds a little hoarse. It’s hot. “Do you think about this, Daddy? About fucking me like a good little slut?”

“Wonyoung,” you reply, speaking through your gritted teeth. “You have no,” and you punctuate the sentence there with a deeper thrust into her tight slick, a thrust strong enough for her to let out a strained gasp. “fucking idea…”

(In the mirror, you watch as she curls her lips into her mouth and tilts her head back into your shoulder, like she’s submitting her whole being to you and letting you take liberties with her body. You take the invitation, and your free hand finds itself on one of her soft mounds and gives it a squeeze—rough but tender enough to elicit a low moan from her throat that makes your hand around it vibrate pleasantly. 

At the given moment, she’s doing all she can to make herself a pretty little fuckdoll for you, doing her best to encourage you to treat her rough, treat her like you own her. She wants nothing more but to feel the rockhard meat penetrating her tight little cunt stretch her out and fill her the way she wants, all while she’s begging and pleading obsequiously while being obsessed with your cock. It’s a lot to take in for her for sure, but she gets off on it, and you get off on it too—the fact that she’s being all needy and pleading just so she can implicitly tell you to fuck her till she’s raw and can’t fucking walk the next morning. The fact that she’s actually in control while being such a bottom. Bratty manipulation.)

“Then fuck me Daddy,” she tells you, almost pleading. “Use this pretty little pussy. I want it. I fucking need it.”

With her invitation to do more with her body, you’re more than ready to do what you’ve intended to do from the very start. You increase your tempo, and before long you are truly fucking her, drilling in and out of the tight hot warmth of her body with quick, deep strokes. With each stroke you don’t pull out more than halfway—you concentrate instead on pumping hard and fast, getting as deep as you could inside her given your standing position. She takes it well, like she was made for this. In her world, this was what fucking looked like, and it was the only definition that she was going to live with and she’d take it to the grave. She indulges in the roughness, the almost animal-like way your cock fills her again and again and again, all while she encourages you with cries and moans and sighs that are music to your ears. 

And a notion hits you: she’s going to make you fuck her till she’s the only thing you can possibly think about. She’s going to draw out every single primal urge within you, make you want her like she’s some form of drug and you’re the abuser, and then she’s going to get exactly what she wants—your cum in her pussy. You can’t let her win like that, you can’t. You can tell that to yourself now, but you’re not sure if you can remember it later, not when she practically reeks of the strongest possible sillage of sex. 

Her pussy throbs around you, pulse strong and just a beat behind your thrusts as you thrust yourself in and out of her slick walls, filling her up and drawing yourself out before filling her up yet again. Pure filth spills from her mouth, expletives, sordid sighs and cries and any sound or word that comes to mind. She's a quivering and squirming mess, and from the mirror you enjoy the way she’s almost writhing in against the counter. Ample breasts bounce with each thrust that shocks her body, and it’s almost hypnotic if it weren’t for the fact that that pretty face was stealing the show. The face that was marvelled, the face that was the source of jealousy, the face that was on the face of so many magazines and posters and adored by millions, if not billions—scrunched up, improper and so fucking lewd that it looked like it belonged in a porno instead of an idols face, and you take pleasure in the fact that your cock is ruining the face of a princess, turning her dissolute and so fucking needy that she was as good as a fan begging her for an autograph. This side of her was reserved for you, and only you—her duality is reserved for your eyes only. 

Her body is slick with sweat, rubbing against your own sweaty torso while her body rolls together with your thrusts. “Fuck—” you’re saying, but it comes out as more of a growl than anything given how hard yur teeth are clenching. Your fingers squeeze tighter around her throat. The slightly reduced airflow at her throat causes her pussy to clench even tighter around you—and the added tightness brings succulent pleasure to your mind that makes you think you’re going insane. You probably are at this rate. “This pussy. It’s so fucking good baby.”

Her reply is a strained gasp, but you get the gist of what she wants to say. She wants, so badly, to tell you how good your cock is making her feel, how well it fucks her, how well it fills her and stretches her and how it’s her favourite thing in the whole world. The squelch of your cock filling her pussy is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the smacking of skin against skin as you press more of your weight against her, pushing her a little more into the corner of the counter and a little more over the line of pathetic. She moans in response to your actions, and it’s telling you: fuck. Harder. It’s better when it hurts. 

And you can feel her juices leaking down the back of her thighs, wetting your crotch and making the smack of skin against skin louder than ever, almost as if it was an announcement: I’m being fucked like a good little slut and I love it. She doesn’t know what she’s doing to you,and for clarity, it’s something along the lines of turning you absolutely feral with her moans and the divine tightness of her pussy that makes you want to cum on the spot. Okay,maybe she is cognizant of how crazy she makes you when you fuck her, but you barely have the capacity to think, let alone rationalise wether thai girl in your arms that your chocking and fucking feel smug in knowing that she’s driving you insane. 

Oh and she loves it when you play with her tits. The way you fondle them is almost aggressive. Scratch that—it’s really fucking aggressive. You’re slapping her tits, leaving red marks all over the milky white skin and pinching and twisting the stiff nubs atop her breasts, all while she mewls and cries out in that strained voice that makes you throb even harder inside of her wet walls and makes you grit your teeth like your a dog waiting to chew on a bone. 

“D-Daddy,” she pushes out, past the fingers that close her airways and past her groans and moans and sighs. “Harder.” And your thrusts are starting to cut her off, but she has more to say. When it comes out, each word that she spits out is punctuated by a thrust of cock into her pussy, and it’s the hottest thing you’ll ever hear. 

Fuck.

You thrust deep inside her. 

Me.

Your cock drives itself deep into her, slicking itself with her juices.

Harder.

And if words could linger in the air, hers certainly would. 

You fuck her hard, and fast, and deep—hammering her into the counter, nailing her defenseless pussy with a pace that you would have thought was rough and callous were it not for the fact you knew this was exactly how she wanted it. All she can do is hang on, grasp onto the counter with a knuckle-white grip with her hands as you take your liberties with her body, fucking her as hard as you can, as deeply as she can take it. The cups on the counter shake, the toothbrush inside one of them shaking under the force. It’s loud,  but you hear none of it. You hear only the sharp sighs of pleasure that leave Wonyoung’s lips, and the wet slap slap slap of your crotch as it hammers her cunt again and again and again, your cock drilling her, pounding her, making her yours if you weren’t already doing that.

It takes a little long, but the haze of lust parts for a moment for you to realise that you're getting closer and closer to getting what she wants out of you. While the thought of burying yourself inside of that quivering, pulsing pussy to let it milk every last drop of cum from you is ever so enticing, that small part of you that wants to own her pushes you to fight against the urges. Not that there’s any harm in giving her what she wants, but it’s just that you don’t want to reward her bratty, manipulative tactics. She knew for a fact that she could tie you up and ride you over and over till you were dry—she’d done it before. But instead, she’s chosen to fulfil her needs in a less direct manner, maybe for fun or maybe just because she felt like it. 

“Yes,” Wonyoung hisses, spit flying into the mirror and her palms slipping on the counter. “Just like this Daddy.” And she’s making sure to make eye contact with you through the mirror, letting her eyes do most of the talking. If anyone’s curious, the look she gives you is saying, I’m your good little slut. Fuck me. Use me. Fill me. Please, and it's nothing short of hot and tethering far over the line of lewd. At this point, neither of you are in a state where you're capable of coherent thought, nor are you capable of thinking about anything else except each other’s bodies and the wet, lewd squelching of cock filling Wonyoung’s pussy. It goes on and on and on, a cycle of your hips hammering the back of her legs and your cock spearing deep into her cunt.  She takes it so well, drinking you in hungrily, coiling around your shaft like a snake as if it was begging for you to stay in her forever. The sight is enough to make your balls tingle and your toes curl, and your hand around Wonyoung's throat tightens to the point where the only thing that can leave her lips is a groan as her airflow is reduced. 

She’s tighter, hotter, wetter. Her pussy fits you like a glove, moulding around your cock as it pumps in and out of her at a pace that you had no idea you were capable of. The hand around her neck is nothing but an outlet of pleasure for you, and she’s loving it. “Such a good girl,” you mutter, watching from the mirror as her mouth slacks and opens while she’s being pumped full of cock. “You were made to take Daddy’s cock, weren’t you?”

Her equivalent of a yes is a sharp, strained groan—an amalgamation of phonics and whatever sounds the lack of air flowing to her throat permits her to make. She’s so fucking messy down there, and your cock is sliding in and out of her with ease, aided by her slick juices that coat your shaft and let it disappear and reappear from between her legs with ease. The motion is almost graceful if it weren’t for the fact that it was a sordid one, and you take a moment to admire the way your shaft glistens in the light of the bathroom while you fuck her the way she wants it: rough, hard and tethering over the edge of callous. If it weren’t for the hand around her throat, she’d be making herself hoarse with all the moaning she’d be doing.

And the hand around her throat is bringing her so much pleasure, if the way her pussy squeezes around you when you choke her is any indication. She wasn’t lying when she said she liked being choked. While she didn’t like gagging on your cock, she sure as hell loved it when your fingers clasped around the muscles and made her gasp. She liked the sensation of being deprived of air, be it when she was riding or when she has her kness buried into her shoulders and was being fucked into the bed like a slut. You were always afraid of hurting her, but when she shots you that look, the one that says, come on, you can do better, you know that she’s getting exactly what she wants, just the way she likes it. It was just a matter of how hard you squeeze around her throat before she either cums or passes out, though the latter has rarely happened before the former.

“Daddy!” she chokes, and you know exactly what she’s about to say next. So you release her throat from her grasp, bunch a lock of her hair in your closed fist and you pull back. Her eyes squeeze themselves shut. Her back arches deliciously, her voice now free to finish shat she’s aching to announce. “I’m fucking…”

You never expect her to finish her sentence. Wonyoung’s eyes open, and a gasp leaves her open lips. Her walls, already vice-like, tighten so hard around you that you think you might come there and then. You feel how close she is. 

“Fucking cum for me, Wonyoung. Cum around my cock like a good little slut.”

Wonyoung does as she is told—and the quivering, trembling orgasm she experiences is almost frightening in the way it overwhelms her body, turning her into a wet, hot mess. Her pussy tightens and pulsates, her fingers claw against the marble counter, and her entire lower body shakes violently, as though she had lost control of her nerves and muscles. For a few beautiful seconds she is utterly overwhelmed by the sensations, until finally she slumps forward in your grasp, breathing heavily. 

It's good. It's so good, but it's not quite enough to get you to your finish. Not yet.

(And if anyone’s asking: it’s not that the sex isn’t good. It’s mind blowing, amazing, and whatever word that can be used to describe “fucking incredible”.  She’s hot, so tight and fucking soaked down there. You’re horny, throbbing and on the verge of filling her full of your seed. But you’ve said it before and you’ll say it again—you’re not rewarding bratty manipulation. As tempting as it would have been to simply pound her from behind until you gave her needy pussy the load of semen she so desperately wanted, you knew that there was something even better that you could do.)

You pull out of Wonyoung, your shaft glistening under the hotel light. Her eyes are wide with shock as you withdraw yourself from her body, pulling her away from the counter—but only enough to have her lean back against you and not stand up completely. Her mouth opens to say something, but she's interrupted when you turn her face to you and kiss her. She moans into your mouth, and you swallow it, your tongue slipping into her mouth and massaging her own, lapping at the roof of her mouth as her tongue swirled around your own. You bite her lower lip, and it's not rough, but enough to get her attention. When her eyes flutter open, you whisper, "I'm not finished."

She nods, and you relish the disappointment in her eyes. You turn her around, push down gently on her shoulders. She goes with the motion, and you're not sure if you can ever get over the image of Wonyoung on her knees with her pretty little face staring at you with anticipation. You think about fucking her face, letting your cock thrust into the back of her throat over and over and over till you finally bury yourself inside and cum down her throat, but that would just be a repeat telecast of every other night with her. Spice things up; give her the liberty of creativity with your cock. 

And of course, Wonyoung perfectly understands what has to be done. You step up to her. She parts her lips and takes your cock right into her mouth. Grasping the base of your cock and pumping it with one hand while she gently cups and squeezes your balls with the other, Wonyoung quickly launches into a hard and fast blowjob, taking the top half of your cock in and out of her wet mouth with a rapid pace while her fingers work your shaft in a corkscrew motion, just like she did in the shower. The suction of her mouth is almost lethal, and the audacity she has to look up at you while she takes your cock in and out of her mouth is so exhilarating that it makes you weak in the knees. Your hand finds a clump of her sweaty hair, and you close your fingers around it, holding them in your fist. No, you weren’t going to push her head down onto your cock; you had to give her the space to work on her craft. 

And of course, she exceeds every expectation out there. Your eyes shut involuntarily, your brain unable to handle any sensations beyond the wet, hot cavern of Wonyoung’s mouth sealed tightly around your shaft with tight, soft lips. With the first entry into her mouth her wet tongue is pressed tightly against the underside of your shaft, lathering it with her spit. With each subsequent entry her tongue becomes more adventurous, beginning with quick swipes left and right on your shaft with each entry and ending each exit with a swirl of the tip around the head of your cock. While she tastes herself on your cock, letting her juices mix with saliva, her hands work in perfect concert with her mouth, one joining her lips at your shaft and pumping up and down, a twisting motion to her wrist while her free hand works gently with your dangling balls, fondling them with considerate fingers. She plays with them softly yet hastily, her fingertips working their magic between the sacs with expert attention.

You are content to stand there with your eyes shut, simply enjoying the feel of your cock pumping in and out of her mouth at a fervent pace, but a small part of you knew that you had to see it happening in order to truly believe it was all real—and so with a not insignificant amount of self-control, you force eyes open to watch the spectacle unfolding between your legs. Black locks bob up and down frantically above your cock, doe-like eyes glazed with pure lust staring right up at you as her cheeks hollow and her jaw unhinges even more to accommodate your length. 

It all becomes too much, and it hits you all at once—having her pump your shaft in the shower, eating her out then fucking her—and you quickly find yourself nearing that inevitable peak.

“Fuck, Wony—” is all you manage to say before your orgasm overtakes your world.

Wonyoung releases your cock from her mouth a split second before you erupt, shooting long, thick strands of hot semen all over her pretty little face. Her face glazes over in pleasure and you are all too happy to watch as strand after strand of cum lands on her cheeks, her pretty little nose, and finally her open mouth and jaw. You watch, through half-lidded eyes drunk with pleasure, as the thick streams of cum flow down her face, dripping onto her upper chest and those perfect breasts of hers. Her face is flushed and her mouth open, as though she herself was on the verge of orgasm (she probably was, and she was going to make it your problem as soon as she got your cum off her face).

You want to remember the way she wipes your cum off her face with the back of her hand, how she licks it all up like a cat licking its own paw before moving to clean the stray strands of cum off the tip and sides of your cock. You want to remember how she rises so gracefully even though she was a sweaty mess, and how she gently takes your hand and guides you back into the shower for another clean up.   

And back under warm water, you want to remember how she kisses you, and how she whispers, “next time, I want that big load in my pussy.”

*

“What?”

And it’s hard to meet Wonyoung’s eyes as you set down the papers from the doctor. You can feel her confusion, her frustration, her rage from across the dining table in your apartment. It isn’t pretty. Nothing about this situation is. 

“It’s a neurological disease,” you tell her, all while you’re looking at the MRI that’s in the middle of the table. You’re really just regurgitating what the doctor told you—it’s the only thing you have the capacity to do right now. “They ran their tests. They told me what I suspected. I’m losing my ability to read and write, to understand language. In 2 years—give or take —I won’t be able to express my thoughts. I’ll be spouting gibberish. What people say, what I see — on pages, street signs, everywhere — they’ll all be unintelligible to me.” She’s silent, and it unnerves you in every way possible. You haven’t even gotten to the worst part of it all. “My mental competence will deteriorate. I’ll have to live off a tube cause I’ll forget how to eat and drink. Dementia will follow shortly.”  

Now would be a great time for her to say something, anything to break this silence. But she is silent, unmoving and reticent in her seat from across you. You have no choice but to gulp and deliver, in your personal opinion, the worst part of it all, “By the time I forget how to breathe I… I would’ve lost all my memories by then.”

She chooses the moment after the last word leaves your mouth to pick up the MRI scan and look at it. 

“So… Everything we’ve built up till now will just… Disappear?” she whispers. She sounds hurt, scared and everything in between. You bite your lower lip. 

“Yes.” There’s no point sugarcoating it, it’s inevitable anyway. Face it now, sulk later… You think that’s the best way to deal with this piece of news. You hope that the matter-of-fact tone of voice that you’ve chosen doesn't betray how frightened you are by the prospect of losing everything you know. “We can’t stop it. It’s in my genes.”

She sets down the scan, and when you look up, you see the tears flowing down her cheeks and it makes you want to cry as well.

She stands up, shoulders her handbag and walks towards the front door. 

“Where are you—” you begin. “I’m going somewhere else to think,” she interjects. 

When she slams the door behind her, you feel like you’ve let her down in so many ways. There’s a burning in your chest that you can’t describe. The first hot tear rolls down your cheek, and you let the rest that well in your eyes flow down without resistance. 

You don’t want to remember what it feels like to be helpless—the emptiness, the rage, the sadness, the confusion is all so overwhelming. But you figure that you’ll have to feel it again at some point down the road. 

Might as well figure out how to cope with it now, when Wonyoung isn't there and you're all alone with your thoughts.

*

When you awaken later that night in your bed in the apartment, it takes you a few moments to determine whether the soft, slim body climbing atop you is real or part of some wonderful dream—but the familiar warmth of your girlfriend, and the soft, pleasant smell of her hair, convinces you that this was all real.

Wonyoung places soft kisses on your neck and jawline, before moving to your mouth and kissing your lips softly. You are still only half awake, but your senses and instincts take over, and you find your mouth welcoming her kiss and returning it with one of your own, your hands moving to either side of her hips and finding, to your surprise, that there was only bare skin there and no clothing.

“Wony…” you begin, as she deepens her kiss, her lips pressing more firmly against yours.

“Shhh,” she answers, “please. I need this. I need you, right now. Please.”

She’s suddenly reappeared after walking out on you, and you have yet to process the slew of emotions that have come your way. Part of you wants to stop her, to talk things out with her so that you could: a) figure out if she was still mad at you and; b) verify that she wasn’t drunk. But the part of you that formed the majority of your conscience knew that she needed comfort as much as you did, and that she needed something to assuage her and make her feel like everything would turn out alright. So you find yourself relaxing underneath her, letting her scent fill your nostrils as her tongue dances with yours.

She straddles you, and your hands begin to run up her naked body, up from her slim thighs to her chest where the ample mounds sat proudly, her nipples erect and stiff. She isn’t wearing any underwear, and your fingers brushing against the slick of her pussy is enough to verify that for you. She’s naked atop of you, kissing you like you just confessed your love to her or like you’re about to go on some mission and never return. It’s not lustful, but it’s full off passion and aims to soothe not stir. 

She breaks the kiss. Her eyes flutter open. In the dark that is pierced by the street lights of the city, you want to remember the way her eyes glimmer and shimmer as she breathes heavily. There’s no alcohol on her breath, and from the way she’s cradling your face, you can infer that she’s not mad at you in the slightest. 

“You okay?” she whispers, and her tone is soft and warm, like that time she spoke in the shower of her hotel about signing that contract with her company so that the two of you could officially start dating. It’s been some time after that, but you still hang on to the way her words made their way to your heart. “I didn’t mean to startle you if I did.”

You respond by nodding, and it’s enough to convey: I’m alright. You brush away the hair that falls in front of her eyes, and you really want to remember how silky smooth her hair feels in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” you ask her, making sure to keep your tone as warm as her own. She blinks, goes silent for a moment, then answers, “I’m making amends.”

She holds your gaze, you hold hers. The staring contest ends when you gently pull her in for another kiss, and you want to remember how she softly moans into your mouth while her thumb, smooth and tender, caresses your cheek.

When the kiss breaks again, her hands snake their way down to your sweats. You assist her in removing your shorts—a very clumsy affair: tangled hands and arms and lots of chuckling. But your cock does finally spring out from your boxers, the ones that have been discarded in the corner of the bed, together with her clothes. When it’s all done, you have the pleasure of witnessing the sight of her slim frame straddling you once more, long legs surrounding you on either side of your thighs while she peppers kisses on your chest. 

“I’m sorry I left you to deal with… Everything. Alone.”  she begins, “I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that… I’m sorry. I hope you aren’t angry”

And from your lying position, you lift a hand to cup her cheek. “We can talk later.”

She gets the message, but bends down and kisses you nonetheless. You’d probably have trouble falling asleep later in the night, and she’d wake up and you’d have this same conversation again. You’d rather have it later than now, not when the wound is still fresh.

Wonyoung lets a soft smile play on her lips. You are slightly aware of her raising her hips, her right hand finding its way between your bodies to grasp your wet, erect shaft, and line it up with her entrance. She breaks the kiss for the third time that night, searches your eyes for approval to continue with this. Was it make up sex? You didn;t know if it was for sure, but it sure as hell felt like it. What you do no for certain is: you’d like to experience this now, and you want to etch this in your memory for as long as you can before it fades with the rest of your mind. 

You give her the slightest of nods, and you feel the head of your cock press against her wet, tight opening. Slowly, carefully, Wonyoung lowers herself down onto your shaft, your cockhead parting her tight lips to impale her pussy. She gasps loudly as she impales herself fully, and she opens her eyes slightly to match your gaze. You brush stray locks of hair away to reveal her face fully, and you bring her mouth back to yours to kiss her deeply. As your tongues duel, she begins to raise her hips, drawing your shaft out of her body before lowering it once more, and soon she has found a soft, slow rhythm as she rides you, grinding her warm, tight body against yours. 

She raises herself upright and lets her hands rest on top of your chest. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes closed, lips slightly parted and the wisp of a smile on her lips as she rocks her hips. From where you lie, you watch as Wonyoung takes you in and out of her body with soft grinding motions, riding you slowly, enjoying every entry and exit of your shaft as it fills her over and over in slow, tender strokes that make her shiver. You watch as your shaft appears for a split second or so before driving back into her, each disappearance accompanied by a soft spike of pleasure. As always, she’s letting moans and sighs and gasps tumble freely from half-parted lips as she takes you in and out of her slowly, rocking her hips with innate grace and elegance. All you do is let your hands rest on her thighs, moaning softly to encourage her as she rides you lovingly, tenderly, a far cry from what you’re used to when it comes down to sex with Jang Wonyoung. 

Through the night, your cock glides in and out of that perfect pussy, elicits moans and gasp and sighs and cute little cusses when you hilt yourself deep inside of her and tug a little at her hair. Her hands were always active, sometimes caressing your chest, sometimes on your jaw, sometimes behind your head as she snaked an arm behind your head to keep you locked where you were just so she could sneak in a kiss. You came in her mouth, her ass, her pussy. She came on your fingers, your cock, your mouth. She cussed a lot, almost passed out once or twice. You cussed a lot two, and you caught her when she almost rolled off the bed (the two of you laughed for a minute about that situation before you ended up spooning on the floor, her leg in the air and your cock pumping in and out of her while she had your back to you and your face in her right hand). 

Bottom line: it was wonderful, wonderful make up sex that ended with both of you sweaty and panting and wanting more from each other but you guys just don’t have that energy to keep going. It was a novelty for both of you, and you wanted to remember just how special she could make you feel, even in the impurest of acts. 

*

The flash of the polaroid camera is almost blinding, but you power through and keep your eyes open. Like a child that’s seeing snow for the first time, Jang Wonyoung watches excitedly as the polaroid emerges from the slot in the camera, and she’s all too eager to grab it and lay it face down on the coffee table in your apartment.

“I thought you’re supposed to shake it?” you ask, watch as she fiddles with the camera for a little bit before she snaps a selfie with her newest purchase. She gives you a look that basically translates to, “uh, are you dumb?” and waits for the next polaroid to emerge from the slot before she launches into her lecture. 

“Shaking the polaroid to make it develop faster is a myth,” the way she sounds so official and everything is so cute. You can’t help but smile a little as she sets the other polaroid down. “It shifts the pigments and blurs the photo, but an idiot like you would need a genius like me to tell that to you.”

The remark is clearly meant to be biting, but it’s nothing short of hilarious to you. “When did you become a camera nerd?”

“Ever since I got this,” she lifts the polaroid camera up and hits you with that you’re on camera smile. “Maybe I should do an ad for this brand. Increase their sales, you know?”

She leaves you to think on that and retrieves the first polaroid she took: a picture of you and her on the couch of your apartment. Not the grandest first photo, but hey, a memory is a memory, and you really are just focusing on cherishing those at the moment. As she leaves the couch to clip the polaroid onto the photo rack (a bunch of metal wires on a metal frame with wooden clips to hold photos) she just set up, you grab your journal next to you and flip it to the page you wrote on a few hours before. With your pen (that you now carry around just about everywhere with your journal), you scribble down a new part of today that you want to remember. It was her idea to journal down everything you wanted to remember. 

The entry goes right under the one about Wonyoung’s new camera.

She looks so happy with that new camera. Bet she’s going to go back to the dorm and show it off to all of her members because she’s a fucking child. I hope that…

And you trail off in your writing, What you wanted to say was just on the tip of your tongue just a second ago. Why can’t you remember it? It was literally just in your head a minute ago…

No. 

You shut the journal. It makes a soft yet substantial thud as the leather cover slaps against pages. You place your pen in your pocket, set the journal back down on the couch and stand up to walk towards your girlfriend, who is currently adjusting the angle that the wooden clip holds the polaroid at. She senses you walking up to her, steps aside and makes a space for you to watch her struggle. You would offer help, but you know that it removes half the fun for her when you do something for her. 

She fiddles around a little more, makes a couple of grunting sounds under her breath, curses a little, and next thing you know, she exclaims, “tada!” while pointing at the first occupant of the photo rack. You roll your eyes, throw an arm over her shoulder and look at the slightly blurry photo within the white frame. 

“With the camera,” she tells you, her tone soft and warm like… Like… Fuck. “I hope that we can help our memories live on. Sounds pretty deep huh?”

You can’t help but chuckle in agreement. You take a moment to stare at the two faces that occupy the space in the polaroid, and you hope to God that they will never, ever look foreign to you. It’s a futile prayer, you know, but a glass-half-full mentality is the best chance you have at not spiralling out of control. 

Wonyoung lays her head on your shoulder, silent and all sentimental as she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. She lets out a shuddering sigh, and you know that she’s trying not to cry, cause in this situation she’s the one that will end up hurt at the end of it all. You’ll forget the pain of forgetting; she’ll remember the pain of being forgotten. It sucks, but it’s just the way it is. You hug her, hold her close and stroke her hair. You don’t want to forget what she means to you, what you mean to her.

How many more polaroids left till it all ceases to matter?

____________________

Hello! Hope you guys enjoyed this fic. I'm a bit rusty so this one might be a bit funny, but hopefully the style of storytelling I chose didn't fuck you up too bad. Non-linear storytelling will be the death of me. Also: I kinda didn't edit this one too much. My bad hehe.

This was really more of a PSA to cherish the ones you hold close to you, because you never know when they will just disappear. Love the people close to you, cherish them forever.

~Lots of love Nichuuu

[iconicstoner]

I read your love bites and apologies story and I was thinking something similar but opposite!! Reader loves the hickeys and can't get enough of them! Like reader is always covered in hickeys!!! Maybe there's a situation with reader's parents or something, and reader uses it as a way to rebel or something! Idk! Just do whatever you want!!!

If you don't want to write this, that's totally cool!

💖💖💖

a/n: Thank you so much for this request! It was so fun to write and I hope you like what I came up with lol. I also am really glad you enjoyed one of my other stories!

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marked up

gn!reader x jasper hale (smut)

words: 910

summary: you decide to rebel against your parents by letting Jasper mark you all over, but it quickly turns to even more than that.

“Woah darlin’, calm down now,” Jasper tells you, keeping one hand in your hair. Your mouth is on his icy cold neck, leaving kisses everywhere. He doesn’t have blood, so he can’t get hickeys, but if he could then he would’ve been covered by now. He tried again to tell you to calm down, but all he could focus on was your warm breathe on his neck.

“You always cover me in hickeys, so maybe it’s my turn,” you tell him with a smirk. You’re sitting in his lap, the two of you on his bed, and despite the fact you’re looking down at him, he’s in full control.

  “You don’t like when I leave marks on you?” he asks, already knowing the answer. He gives that perfect smile that’s been burned into your memory. 

“I love it,” you whisper sensually in his ear. You hear a low moan in the back of his throat as he grabs you by the waist. He lifts you up and roughly places you down on the mattress below him. 

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna leave you covered by the time we’re done here. Everyone will know you’re mine,” he tells you. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” you respond. 

“Why’s that?” he asks with a grin. You think back to the fight with your parents you’d had before you’d left home. You fell asleep without a shirt on, your parents noticed one of the hickeys on your chest, and they were not pleased. You assured them that it was fine. You still had amazing grades, great relationships with your friends, and your own hobbies, but they hated the idea you were having sex, especially not with someone they didn’t trust, like Jasper.

Jasper lifts up your chin, kissing you your jaw, bringing you back into reality.

“My parents and I are fighting about you again,” you say between breathy moans, “they think you’re a bad influence.”

“I am,” he said while slipping his hand under your shirt. You wanted to listen to his thick southern accent forever, hearing him call out your name in it. You tugged at his shirt, lifting it up. He quickly took it off, and you did the same with your own. Your chest was now exposed and he began kissing you all over. He left hickeys up and down your chest, your waist, your neck, everywhere. Anywhere he could reach your soft, warm skin he pressed his tongue to it. He knew neither of you would be satisfied until you were fully covered in hickeys.

He pulled away from you, slowly unbuckling his pants just to tease you. He unbottoned your pants next and pulled them off you, leaving kisses along your hips. He pulled down your undewear just enough to expose you and began to kiss you there. He licked your bare skin slowly, causing you to buck your hips with excitement. 

He moved back up to your neck, kissing and leaving hickies there again, but he kept a firm grip on your hips. His mouth trailed down to your collarbones, and left more marks there. You knew he was trying to tease you. As he pulled away to let you gasp for air you looked noticed a tent in his boxers, and you knew you craved him. He began to slowly grind against you, his hard pressing up against you in the most satisfying way, causing you to beg for him.

“Please Jasper, I need you,” you moaned out. He began to kiss and suck one of your nipples. You jumped in pleasure as he put one of his cold hands between your thighs, roughly spreading them open. He stopped kissing your chest, and began to kiss you. His tongue was in your mouth, his hard cock was rubbing against you, and you were in pure bliss. He pulled away from the kiss and pushed a few strands of hair out of your face.

“Oh darlin’, I’m not even done with my tongue yet,” he told you before moving back down between your thighs. He grabbed you by the hips and began to tease you with his tongue. He traced it along your inner thighs, causing your hips to jump again.

“Please, Jas,” you begged. You saw him smile up at you before begining to give you head. His tongue moved in the most perfect ways. He kissed and licked you everywhere, and you had never felt more pleasure. His hands were firmly gripped on your thighs, and his tongue moved swiftly. You let out shaky mones as your got closer to your climax, but his movements never faltered. Before you could even register the thought, you had already came. Your legs were shaking from the pleasure.

He sat up, brushing more hair out of your face. He wiped some sweat off of your face before gently kissing your forehead. It was hard to tell if you liked him more gentle and sweet or rough and dominating. You sat up, resting in his arms. The two of you peacfully laid there, skin to skin, for what could’ve been forever. He shifted and got out of bed, having to force himself to let go of your hand. 

“It’s getting late,” he told you as he gathered both of your clothes. “You should get home before it’s dark, or else I might have to punish you next time,” he whispered seductively as he left a final hickey on your neck.