#i would play her more if i could aim well

[fluffielox]

„bless your heart ❤️“

[gurugirl]

Truth or Dare | slumber party!h

Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.

A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,752

Warning: smut

. . .

By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.

He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).

The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.

Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”

“Really? Surely you had friends…”

Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”

Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”

“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.

“Taxi. You?”

“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”

Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.

“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”

“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”

Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”

Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”

Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”

Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.

A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”

Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”

She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”

He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”

They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.

Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”

Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”

.                 .                 .

Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.

Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.

And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.

Right?

Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.

When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.

Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.

And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…

“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.

“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”

Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”

She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”

He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.

“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.

Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.

“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.

Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.

They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.

Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”

Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”

Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”

Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”

He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”

Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.

“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.

Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”

Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”

Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”

“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”

Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.

She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”

Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”

Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”

His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”

She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”

Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”

“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.

Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”

Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.

Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)

Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”

Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.

She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?

lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way

Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.

She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”

Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”

Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”

Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.

And it wasn’t. Not even close.

You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.

“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”

Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.

He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”

And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.

“Truth.”

She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.

“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.

Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!

“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.

He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”

Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”

“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”

“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”

Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.

She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”

Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”

He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”

“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.

“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.

Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.

Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”

“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”

She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…

“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.

She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”

“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”

Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”

Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”

She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.

He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.

She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.

Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.

Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).

“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”

Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”

She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.

She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.

She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”

A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”

He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”

Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”

He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.

Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”

She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.

Jesus Christ.

Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”

She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?

Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.

Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”

She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.

His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.

It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.

He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”

She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.

Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.

Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.

He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.

She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.

“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”

Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”

Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.

“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”

She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.

“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”

She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.

Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”

Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.

She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.

She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.

“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.

Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.

“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.

“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  

Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.

He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”

She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”

“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.

“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.

“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”

He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.

When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.

“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.

“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.

When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.

Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.

She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet claps every time he plunged in.

When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.

“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.

“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”

Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.

“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”

Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”

She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.

She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”

Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.

“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”

The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.

He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”

Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.

Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.

So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”

When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”

He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”

She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.

His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.

He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”

She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”

He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.

Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.

With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.

Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”

She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”

Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”

Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”

He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”

“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”

. . .

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[tbaluver]

Can you write the guys reaction to having a baby girl as their first child? (I'm a sucker for papa's little princesses)

Thank you and your works are the best and comforting!

Papa's Little Princess- The Love And DeepSpace Men

synopsis: when your first child is a girl! genre: fluff fluff a/n: omg this was such a cute idea i wish they were real (╥﹏╥) and thank you so much! i hope my works can continuing being comforting for you and anybody else <3 i hope this was okay and that you enjoy this! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

His little star

A gentle father. He's the type to never yell at his daughter but he'll provide positive disciplining strategies with you.

He wants to be in every part of his daughter's life in any way he can. He wouldn't really know how to do his daughter's hair but he was willing to try ! He would watch you tie her hair, braid, and put many accessories in her hair and he would be confused on how you did all that. He tried looking up how to do her hair and his first time wasn't the best.....but after some practice with you, he would be a pro just like you!

Do NOT let these two bake together especially with the easy bake ovens. Nearly set the kitchen on fire attempting to make cookies for you. He couldn't say no to her when she wanted to cook or try baking with him. You don't know how but it ended up burnt or with the weirdest toppings ever and a broken easy bake oven.

Nap time is serious business with these two. They are not to be disturbed. She's either asleep on his chest or in his lap. Whenever you take walks and she gets too tired, he'll carry her around on his back. She'll rest her head on the crook of his neck while he holds onto her tightly.

She would have all the plushies, toys, and snacks she wants! He'll do his all to get her the plushies in the claw machine to make his little angel jump up and down in joy. She could never have enough

Loves to join her in her imaginative play whether she wants to be a princess or an astronaut. It makes playtime full of joy and adventure

Zayne:

You two would have the most polite, well mannered, and kindest daughter ever.

Loves to participate in playing house with her. He'll sit on the floor or the tiny chairs from the tea party set you gotten for her. He'll play the role with no complaints and tell her that the tea is delicious even though there is absolutely no tea in the plastic cup.

He's a doctor but he can't help but sneak a few sweet treats for her. If she wants some before lunch or dinner then she can have at least one before she eats her meal and then she'll have plenty more after. These two would have cavities later on.

He would make her all the mini snowmen and other things she wants from his evol. He finds her reaction to be adorable each time, it never gets old.

If your daughter mentions a boy, he would tell her she can have a boyfriend around 30. She would be happy and so was he. Mainly because she has no concept of time and age yet.

Your daughter loves to hear him read. Even though she was still very very young and didn't grasp everything just yet, he would read her stories and explain them with care and patience, aiming to entertain and nurture her curiosity. She loves to sit on his lap and sometimes she'll fall asleep on him.

He would let her pick any flower she wants to grow in your garden at the backyard. You would all start a small garden together and he would teach her how to care for them.

Rafayel:

Takes playing house a little too seriously. Whatever role his daughter gives him, he's giving it his all.

Oh he was so excited when your daughter first held a crayon. He colors with her a lot and eventually will introduce her to paint. He would tell her that she's doing so well even if they were just blobs. She's going to be an artist just like her papa. He'll even add some of her artwork on his so he can point it out to her if he were to have another exhibition tour.

First time at the beach with his daughter was such an emotional day for him. Hearing and seeing her squeal when her little feet touched the water warmed his heart. He held her so tightly and tenderly, reassuring her that she won't float away because her papa's got her. He teaches her a lot about how some fishes are friendly and one day he'll meet some of his fish friends.

He'll eventually tell her all about Lemuria whenever it was time for bed and he thought it's so cute whenever she wanted to hear more about it.

Would absolutely love to play dress up with her. Sometimes he'll pick some of her clothes out and he would think she is beautiful just like her mama. They'll make a little runway and model the outfits.

He would keep all the little milestones she has made and any memories. He'll keep all the photos, drawings, and any mementos to look back at the treasured memories.

Sylus:

The second person who will ever see his soft side is his daughter. You being the first.

He is protective over his daughter and with you. If anyone were to look at either one of you wrong? Sleep with one eye open.

He does not have fragile masculinity! He will let her apply as much toy makeup as she wants on his face. He'll play dress up with her as much as she wants no matter how obscure the outfits are! He has no complaints, anything to make his little angel smile and happy.

She loves hearing him sing lullabies. It puts her to sleep immediately but sometimes she'll sing or hum along with him.

If you tell your daughter no to something then she'll ask Sylus. He can't say no to his sweet baby girl. Just don't tell mom. He doesn't know what true fear is until he meets a mothers anger.

Loves to spoil her just like how he loves to spoil you. Not to the point where she's a brat though, you two would teach her to be better than that. "Just because" gifts to make her feel special without any special occasions

Anytime he would be away for business, he'll always bring you two something back. Something that you both either love or reminds him of you two or maybe both.

BONUS (All): They would all be patient fathers overall. They would never yell if your daughter showed any emotions especially if their daughters were to cry. They’re offering their own patience, love, and comfort in their own way. They would be there for your daughter emotionally as they were with you.

[chosok-amo]

. . . KAWAI, HENTAI, BOOBIESSS!

ME AND YOUR GIRLFRIEND PLAYING DRESS-UP IN HOUSE, I GIVE YOUR GIRLFRIEND CUNNILINGUS IN MY COUCH!

shoko ieiri. it just happened that the girl hated satoru gojo so much that day, so she decided to give his girlfriend— you, a little fun, on her couch.

warning. cunnilingus, cheating, fingering, overstimulated, gxg, squirts, name-calling, pet names.

wc. 3,8k

𝜗𝜚. please don't judge me, it is my first time writing gxg and i'm trying my best to picturing it without overdoing it because i never experienced it. 🥹

in shoko’s cozy apartment, you and shoko were rummaging through her impressive wardrobe, trying to put together the perfect outfit for your date with satoru gojo, your lovely boyfriend. shoko’s playful mood had shifted into one of frustration as the conversation turned to satoru’s recent behavior.

“i just don’t get it,” shoko huffed, sorting through a pile of accessories with a frown. “why does he always have to be so late? It’s like he thinks time is a suggestion, not a rule.” you laughed softly, trying to lighten the mood. “you know how he is. he’s probably just caught up in something.”

shoko’s irritation didn’t fade. “caught up in something or not, it’s still rude. you deserve someone who respects your time.” before you could respond, shoko’s phone buzzed. she glanced at the screen and rolled her eyes, “speak of the devil.”

you peered over her shoulder at the message from satoru, apologizing for being late and asking if he could still meet up. shoko’s face darkened with annoyance, “seriously?” she muttered, her voice laced with irritation, “he’s been late three times in a row now. i’m about ready to give him a piece of my mind.”

you placed a comforting hand on shoko’s shoulder, “he does mean well. maybe something came up unexpectedly. let’s give him the benefit of the doubt.”

shoko sighed, her anger slightly diffused by your support, “i guess. but if this happens again, i’m going to have to set him straight. it’s not just about being punctual; it’s about showing you that he values your time.”

you nodded in agreement, understanding where shoko was coming from. “i appreciate you looking out for me. let’s focus on getting me ready for the date.”

shoko’s demeanor softened as she focused on helping you choose the right outfit. her frustration didn’t fully disappear, but she channeled it into finding the perfect look that would impress satoru and show him that you were worth his time or she might steal you from him.

as you tried on various outfits, shoko offered advice with a mix of seriousness and subtle jabs aimed at satoru. “this outfit is great—perfect for making an impression. let’s just hope satoru shows up on time to see it.”

shoko eyes focusing on your cleavage— seems like she can't stop her eyes from looking at the peak of your breast. with a small blush creeping onto her cheeks, shoko quickly looks away from your chest, pretending to be interested in the clothes hanging in front of her. “umm... i think this one might work,” she says, holding up a dress with a deep v-neck that accentuates your curves nicely.

her gaze flickers back towards your chest, unable to resist another glance despite herself. “it really brings out your... figure,” she murmurs under her breath before quickly clearing her throat and attempting to refocus on the task at hand.

blushing even more intensely now, shoko stammers out an apology while avoiding eye contact. “i-i'm sorry, i didn't mean to stare...” she busies herself with folding the rejected outfits neatly, hoping that by keeping her hands occupied she can distract herself from her wandering eyes.

but even as she tries to regain control of the situation, there's a noticeable shift in her demeanor— one that suggests she might not entirely regret looking at you like that. after all, what harm could come from admiring such beautiful curves?

“um... maybe we should try this one?” she asks tentatively, pulling out another dress that reveals even more of your cleavage than the previous one. “it's okay,” you smile at her kindly. you take off the dress without turning your back on her, now fully showing her your naked breasts. her eyes widen in shock as you suddenly strip down completely, exposing your bare breasts to her gaze. for a moment, she freezes, unsure of how to react.

then, almost against her will, her gaze drops to your nipples, which hardens slightly in the cool air of the room. a soft gasp escapes her lips as she takes in the sight of your pink, erect buds. slowly, shoko raises her eyes back up to meet yours, a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and perhaps even arousal flickering in their depths. she swallows hard, her mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“i... um... wow,” she manages to stammer out, her voice barely above a whisper. “you're so beautiful...” without thinking, she reaches out a trembling hand, hesitating only briefly before gently cupping one of your breasts. as her fingers make contact with your soft flesh, a shiver runs down shoko's spine. she squeezes your breast gently, marveling at its weight and suppleness.

“you feel amazing,” she whispers, her thumb brushing lightly over your nipple. the sensitive bud stiffens further under her touch, sending tingles throughout your body. unable to resist, shoko leans in closer, her warm breath ghosting over your skin. slowly, teasingly, she darts out her tongue and gives your nipple a quick lick.

a moan slips past your lips at the sensation, encouraging shoko to continue her exploration. she kisses along the swell of your breast before taking your nipple into her mouth, sucking and nibbling on the hardened peak. meanwhile, her other hand drifts downwards, tracing the curve of your waist and hip before settling on your ass.

shoko brings her feet to slowly move behind you until your back touching her chest— one hand still not leaving your breast before her other hand joining. she squeeze your breast lightly, fingers flicking your nipples from time to time.

shoko wraps her arms around your torso, pressing her soft body firmly against your back. her ample bosom squishes against your shoulders, making you acutely aware of her every movement. feeling bold, shoko's hands roam freely over your exposed skin, occasionally dipping lower to caress your sides or hips. her fingers continue to tease and pinch your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

murmuring softly against your ear, shoko's hot breath sends shivers down your spine, “you have such a beautiful body... i want to explore every inch of it.” her words are punctuated by gentle bites along your neck and shoulder, each nip causing your heart to race faster.

shoko's hands begin to wander lower, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt to stroke the smooth skin of your thighs. her fingers dance closer to your pussy, teasing the edges of your underwear. “mmm, you're so wet already,” she purrs, her nose nuzzling the side of your neck as she inhales your scent deeply, “i can smell how much you want me.”

with a deft motion, shoko tugs your panties aside, exposing your slick folds to her eager touch. two fingers delve between them, stroking your clit in slow, deliberate circles. “let me make you feel good,” she coos, her voice dripping with desire, “i want to hear you moan my name."

encouraged by your moans, shoko intensifies her movements, rubbing your clit harder and faster. her fingers slip easily through your slick folds, exploring every nook and cranny of your heated pussy. “ohh, you're so tight,” she groans, thrusting two fingers inside you. the stretch sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

her other hand leaves your breast momentarily to join in the fun, sliding down to fondle your clit directly. the dual stimulation has you writhing against her, desperate for more, “please don't stop,” you beg breathlessly, “i need it.”

you throw your head back to her shoulder. hands gripping tightly on her arms as if your pleasure depends on it. your eyes flickering caused by the pleasure hugging your body. “oh, fuck. .” you moan into the air.

hearing your moans of pleasure, shoko becomes even more insatiable. her fingers pump in and out of you rhythmically, hitting spots that send shocks of delight surging through your entire being. her free hand snakes down to join the first, doubling the pleasure as both thumbs work relentlessly on your swollen clit. the dual assault has you bucking wildly against her, seeking friction where you can get it.

“that's it baby, let go,” she encourages, leaning down to whisper hotly in your ear, “come for me.” driven by your pleas and the intoxicating scent of your arousal, shoko redoubles her efforts. with each thrust of her fingers and rub of her thumbs, she brings you closer to the edge. with your raw moans, shoko's excitement grows exponentially. her fingers work you relentlessly, curling within you to hit that sweet spot deep inside.

“fuck yeah, just like that,” she growls, biting down gently on your earlobe, “let go for me.” the intensity of her touches drives you wild; her firm grasp on your arms is the perfect anchor amidst the storm of sensations coursing through your body.

suddenly, she adds a third finger, stretching you wider as she pumps them in and out rhythmically. simultaneously, she rubs your swollen clit mercilessly. “you're going to cum soon,” she predicts confidently, “and i want to be here when it happens.” the combination of her dirty talk and expert touches proves too much to bear. your inner walls clamp down around her invading fingers as an intense orgasm rips through you.

“yes! yes!” you cry out, shaking uncontrollably in her embrace. “don't stop!” shoko continues pumping her fingers vigorously, drawing out your climax until you collapse limply against her, spent and satisfied.

“that was incredible,” she praises, peppering your neck with soft kisses. “your pussy felt amazing squeezing my fingers like that.” gently withdrawing her hand, shoko brings her glistening digits to her mouth, sucking your juices off with a contented hum, “delicious.”

as your breathing slows, shoko tenderly strokes your flushed cheeks and neck, soothing away the remnants of your orgasmic high. her own arousal is palpable— evident in the way she presses herself against you, seeking friction where there wasn't any before.

“i want you,” she confesses quietly but urgently, “will you let me taste you?”

without waiting for a reply, shoko pushes you to the couch, gently landing your body on the soft material before dropping down onto her knees between your legs. her hands grip your hips firmly as she pulls you towards her awaiting mouth. once you're positioned to her liking, shoko leans in, dragging her tongue up the center of your slit in a long, slow lick. she savors the taste of your arousal, humming in approval at the flavor.

“mmm, even better than i imagined,” she murmurs against your sensitive flesh before diving back in for another lap, this time focusing on your throbbing clit. her tongue swirls around the bud, applying just the right amount of pressure to send sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerve endings. as she works you over, shoko's hands roam your body, kneading your breasts and tweaking your nipples.

“please let me make you cum again,” she pleads between licks, “i need to feel you lose control for me.” driven by her desperation to please you, shoko redoubles her efforts, alternating between licking and sucking on your clit while plunging two fingers deep inside your still-quivering pussy.

“oh god, you taste so fucking good,” she gasps, her own arousal leaking down her thigh as she loses herself in the act of worshipping your body, “i could do this all day.”

picking up speed, shoko fucks you with her fingers, curling them to hit that magic spot that makes your toes curl and back arch. at the same time, she increases the suction on your clit, sending you hurtling towards another explosive climax. “cum for me, baby,” she urges, her voice strained with lust, “fill my mouth with your juice.”

she doesn't seems willing to stop, still can't get enough of your taste on her tongue and heart. she looks up to you, seeing your fucked-face, eyes drop low and chest moving rigid, trying to catch your breath.

“do you ever squirt?” she ask, giving your clit a kitten lick. you didn't even get a chance to answer when you feel you leg shaking, “fuck!—” sometimes catch you breath as you arch your back and took a fistful of shoko's long brown hair. the action make the girl moan and groan on your clit.

at the sudden tangle of your fingers in her hair, shoko lets out a needy whimper, her own desire spiking at the dominant display. she gazes up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, panting softly as she continues to lap at your oversensitive clit.

“i've never seen you come undone like this,” she breathes, nuzzling her face into your heat, “it's so hot.” emboldened by your reaction, shoko begins to suckle more insistently on your clit, her tongue darting out to flick the hypersensitive bud. the sensation sends jolts of electricity straight to your core, making your already quivering thighs clench.

“squirt for me,” she urges, her voice a husky purr, “drench my face with your cum.” with each thrust of her fingers and lap of her tongue, shoko coaxes more and more moans from your lips until they merge into one long, drawn-out sigh. the sensation builds quickly, making your thighs quiver and your pussy clench tighter around her fingers.

“i think you might be close,” she whispers against your slick folds, “are you gonna give it to me?” feeling your impending orgasm approaching, shoko intensifies her efforts, doubling down on her relentless assault. her tongue darts and flicks mercilessly against your swollen clit, while her fingers pump in and out of your dripping cunt, hitting every sweet spot.

“come on, baby,” she encourages, her voice muffled by your pussy. “let go. show me how much you love this.” with a final, desperate suck, shoko draws you over the edge. a loud moan tears itself from your throat as your entire body convulses in pleasure. “s-so good, mmh-mmm, fucking goo-oh!” your pussy squeezes tight around her fingers, pulsating rhythmically as wave after wave of euphoria washes over you.

caught in the throes of ecstasy, you barely register shoko's triumphant cry as she laps up every last drop of your sweet release. eager to savor every last drop, shoko laps up your juices with gusto, not stopping until your spasms subside. she then slowly rises, standing between your spread legs with a satisfied smirk on her lips.

“that was amazing,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that.” despite the mess, shoko makes no move to clean herself up. instead, she leans down and gives your thigh a gentle kiss, marking you as hers— more likely stealing you from gojo satoru.

“but i'm not done yet,” she teases, sliding her fingers out from within you and bringing them to her lips. “taste so fucking good, can't get enough of you baby,” with a sly grin, shoko brings her glistening fingers to your lips, holding them there expectantly. as you part your mouth to accept the intimate offering, she pushes them past your lips, letting you taste the essence of your own arousal mixed with her saliva.

“don't you agree it tastes divine?“ she purrs, her voice thick with satisfaction. “now open wide for me,” demanding that you taste what she had been enjoying moments ago. the tangy sweetness of your cum coats her fingertips, leaving a salty residue on your tongue.

once you comply, shoko slides her fingers into your mouth, gently probing your tongue with them. the dual stimulation sends a thrill through your body, leaving you weak and pliant beneath her. her other hand ventures downwards, tracing teasing circles along your inner thigh before dipping lower. this time, instead of plunging her fingers inside you, she focuses on your clit, rubbing it gently with the pad of her thumb. “you're so responsive,” she murmurs, watching your reactions closely. “do you want more?”

nodding your head like obedient dog, your eyes watering, “please. . . want more,” you beg her. shoko chuckle, “look at you acting like a little slut,” her lazy eyes never leaver yours. at the same times, her phone ringing and your boyfriend name pop up. gladly she accepted the call before putting her phone aside, purposely letting your boyfriend hear what a slut his girlfriend is and doesn't have any attention to let you know that your boyfriend is listening.

“you ask for it,” shoko sweetly said before pushing your tight upward, “now open your leg wider, baby,” she command and you happily follow. she land your thigh on her shoulder. lean down to spitting on your pussy and a soft moan left your glisten lips. you don't realize how your boyfriend listening on the other side.

a sound of shoko's hand slapping your overstimulated pussy echoes follow by your moan. “oh fuck!” gojo hear your whimpering voice. as soon as you utter those words, shoko's eyes light up with mischief. she grins wickedly, clearly relishing the power she holds over you in this moment.

“look at you, begging like a bitch in heat,” she taunts playfully, her fingers trailing along your slit. “i bet you'd let anyone touch this greedy little cunt, wouldn't you?” shoko punctuates her question with a sharp slap to your sensitive mound, eliciting a yelp from your lips. before you can recover, she pushes your knees up towards your chest, folding you nearly in half and exposing your dripping hole completely. her voice dripping with lust, “i'm going to feast on this pretty pussy until you scream.”

as shoko's palm connects with your sensitive flesh, another sharp slap resounds through the room, followed by your high-pitched whine. her eyes light up with sadistic glee at the thought of gojo listening in on their depraved activities. shoko dives in, burying her face between your thighs. her tongue delves deep into your folds, lapping up your arousal with reckless abandon. she sucked hard on your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body.

“oh fuck, fuck— ahh!” gojo hears your muffled cries as shoko devours you whole, “yes, just like that!” the sounds of shoko's slurping and your moans fill the room, creating an erotic symphony that gojo cannot tear himself away from. he listens intently, his cock twitching in anticipation as he imagines shoko's skilled mouth on him next.

shoko pulls back momentarily, her lips shiny with your juices. she looks up at you with a hungry gaze, her eyes dark with lust, “i want to make you cum again.”

“please— fuck, please don't stop,” you begging.

shoko smirks at your desperate pleas, knowing full well the power she wields over you at this moment. she returns to feasting on your pussy with renewed vigor, her tongue darting in and out of your clenching folds. “such a good little slut for me,” she purrs, the vibrations of her words sending tremors through your core, “i'm going to milk this cunt dry.”

with that promise, shoko redoubles her efforts, sucking harder on your throbbing clit while thrusting two fingers knuckle-deep into your slick channel. she curls them just right, stroking that magic spot inside you that makes your vision blur and toes curl. “fuck, yes! right there! faster. . .” gojo hears you scream, your voice hoarse from pleasure. “i-i— don't stop, please!” shoko continues to ravage your pussy with unrelenting intensity, her fingers pumping in and out of you as her tongue working overtime on your clit. she can feel your walls starting to flutter around her digits, signaling your impending orgasm.

“that's it, cum for me,” she growls against your soaked flesh, her breath hot against your sensitive skin. with a final, brutal suck on your clit, shoko sends you careening over the edge. your body convulses, a high-pitched wail escaping your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

“oh my god, oh fuck— yes, yes. . .” gojo hears your voice rise to a fever pitch, your words barely coherent as your orgasm rips through you. shoko laps up your release greedily, milking you for every last drop. as your climax subsides, shoko slowly withdraws her fingers from your spent channel, bringing them to her lips to clean off the evidence of your pleasure. she savors the taste of your arousal, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips.

“you are even sweeter after i make you cum three times,” she murmurs, her eyes glinting with mischief, “so fucking good.” shoko rises to her feet, towering over you in a dominant pose. she reachdown to help you sit up, her touch gentle but firm. “now, let's get you cleaned up and presentable,” she says, her tone taking on a playful edge, “we can't have you looking like a mess when gojo gets here, now can we?”

with that, shoko grabs a washcloth and begins wiping away the remnants of your passion, her touch both soothing and intimate. she took her phone that lying flat on the floor before pressing the electronic against her ear, smiling as she looks down at you.

“satoru..” she sang happily, “i hope you don't mind me having a little fun with your girlfriend,” her voice dripping with mocking even though soft smile kissing her as she looks at you, “that's what you get for fucking pissing me off.” satoru's angry voice comes through the speaker, causing shoko to giggle softly. she runs a hand through your hair, keeping her eyes locked on yours as she continues the call.

“satoru, darling, don't be so dramatic,” she coos, her tone sugary sweet despite the mischievous glint in her eye. “i was just giving your precious girlfriend a little attention. after all, you've been neglecting her lately,” shoko leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “besides, she seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. maybe you should take some pointers from me on how to satisfy a woman properly.”

satoru growls in response, but shoko merely laughs, unconcerned by his anger. “oh, don't worry, i won't tell if you don't,” shoko ends the call, tossing her phone aside with a nonchalant flick of her wrist. she turns her attention back to you, a devilish grin spreading across her features.

“well, that was entertaining,” she muses aloud, running her fingers down your side in a teasing manner. “but enough about satoru. let's focus on making sure you're ready for him.” shoko helps you to your feet, steadying you as your legs wobble beneath you. she leads you to the bathroom, where she begins running a warm bath.

[cherry-leclerc]

star-crossed ☆ mv1

genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut

word count: 9.1k

Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, fingering

inspired by this !

cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)

The table was long, practically going for miles, but not really—it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, what’s that? The upcoming season. And you’ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick. 

White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancé’s phone, connected to the Bluetooth. 

Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesn’t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s heads turn. “Merde—finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!” Crickets. His smile drops. “I-Its me. I’m the best man.”

“More like Best Party Killer. Sit down,” Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head. 

The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. “Comme je le disais…we’re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?”

“Why did you choose Pierre as your best man again?” you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend. 

“Any more guesses?”

“Okay, thank you!” you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. “Thank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.”

The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. “Oui, oui, I’m done, I’m done.” A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. “I thought we could go around and…share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. I’ll start.”

“Great,” Kika groans, massaging her temples. 

“September 4, 2022.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“You said it would be warm!”

Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. “I said slightly warm. More so cool.” A harsh glare. She winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. She’s right, you’ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reas—

“Should I just come back later or…”

Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away. 

And we’re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hisses—assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. “Max Verstappen!” The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. “So nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.”

Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. “Yeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.”

It wasn’t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry. 

“Everyone nowadays fears you, it seems like.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “But I do have one question—how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?”

His smile slips away. “Sorry?”

“Uh-oh,” Lissie mutters.

But you don’t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. “Well you aren’t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?”

When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Let’s not air that last question, thank you. 

Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. “I still had a minute left!”

“Why would you say that?” she screeches. “Why, why, why?”

You blink. “I’m lost. What did I do wrong?”

The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. “You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what.”

-

“Their relationship had started rather…rocky,” Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. “But don’t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.”

-

“She really said that?” 

Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. “She’s new here, she must be—I’ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?”

“A legend, that’s who,” the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty. 

Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. “I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

A few hours have now rolled by and you’ve finally realized—you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, he’s just a strong driver. No one thinks he’s a villain, you think he’s a villain. 

“You think he’s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?”

Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. “No. No. No. Maybe?”

Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. “Hello.”

“Oh! Hi!”

His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. “I’m Pierre—”

“I know who you are,” you cut him off. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m—”

“New?”

Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. “Yes?”

“I thought so,” he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. “So…I’m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasn’t meant to hurt his feelings?”

You soften up quickly. “I hurt his feelings?”

A nose scrunch. “Let me backtrack; Max doesn’t have feelings, therefore there’s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.” He lifts the frames. “He doesn’t like you.”

“Lovely,” Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. “Is there a way…we…can fix all this misunderstanding? Because that’s what this is! A misunderstanding!”

The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. “There’s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? He’s very Old-Fashioned.”

“Okay, yes.” You scurry down the paddock. “I could do that! I could so do that.” 

“Other way!” he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.

You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. “Hey—hi!” Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. “H-hello. Again.”

His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorry…please don’t demand for my release.”

A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. “I’m not here to ruin your life, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You sigh in relief. “God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. “You’re very welcome, but that doesn’t mean I like you.”

Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” He steps away. “You already said that.”

-

“He was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.”

“Isn’t this supposed to make me look good?” your fiancé grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. “You know what? Just sit down.”

Pierre smirks. “See? Guarded.”

-

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“I’m not a quitter.”

“There we go!”

“But he makes me want to quit.” “Oh, well now we’re back to square one,” Pierre groans. “He’s being hard headed, that’s all. I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry.”

And he does. 

It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you weren’t wearing makeup. 

“You look—”

“Hideous?” You blush. “Yeah, don’t even mention it.”

He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “I wanted to apologize… for the way I reacted. It was immature.”

“N-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and I’m sorry.”

Max nods, Adam’s Apple dancing up, then down. “Truce?” 

Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. “Truce.”

And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. “Pool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?”

With a cheesy look, you shrug. “It’s one way to relieve stress.”

“Yeah—and what’s another?”

His tone is sultry and irresistible, you can’t help but rip your gaze away. “Anything that brings thrill, I suppose.” A tick. “Whatever that may be.”

“And what if it’s something bad? Does that still count?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchman’s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. “You’re not a bad person, so yes.”

His tongue clicks. “Uh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?”

Groaning, you gently smack his chest. “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

Just as you’re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. “L-Lissie.”

 The blue eyed boy nods. “Are you going to be interviewing me from now on?”

“Ah—is my ban lifted?”

“Yes.”

You roll your eyes. “Then yes.” Strolling past him, you wave. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

-

“Where are you even going with any of this?” Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve just been talking about yourself, not them.”

Pierre scowls. “I’m getting there!” He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. “So, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problems—your welcome, by the way—a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.”

-

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“Nepo-Baby?”

You hum. “They all are.”

Lissie groans. “So how will I know which one?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. “I have to go find Will. Something about—whatever, you probably don’t even care.”

You giggle. “Nope. Have fun.”

Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest. 

“Don’t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?”

“Dude, I was just falling asleep…” You peek an eye open. “And yes. But it hasn’t started, so I'm clear.”

Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same. 

“Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Been hiding from you.”

“Seems like. Don’t do that.”

“Fine.” You grin, sitting up straight. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Probably.”

You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he can’t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”

“...and I turned and said, isn’t that Celine Dion?” Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. “Turns out I was just really freaking high.” Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if it was—” A sharp gasp. “Him? Oh my—it’s him!”

“Don’t you mean her?” Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.

But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down. 

“R-right—her.”

-

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“Is he cute? Yeah, maybe.” A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. “In a weird way.”

“Hey,” you warn.

“Is he your type? Don’t know why, but yes. I could see why you’re into him.”

“Great…”

“But is he the right choice? No. Not at all.”

“...and fantastic.” Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasn’t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. It’s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”

“Oh no.” A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. “God no.” You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesn’t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. “He’s just so—and you’re just so—” A beat. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah.” Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. “Yeah, I know.”

-

“And for a while, that was that,” Pierre announces, feigning indifference. “No more love birds.”

“Oh,” George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. “Then why are we here?”

“Oh God,” you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. “What if we just elope?”

He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. “We always can. Is that what you want?” And he asks because he knows—no. That’s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. “No. That’s not what I want.” 

“Good.” Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. “Because I think this is actually going somewhere.”

-

Bahrain International Circuit—-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasn’t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.

“Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. “Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

“You’re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.”

“Until I can feel my teeth rot,” you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites. 

Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. It’s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches. 

Max tilts his head in greeting. “Working hard already?” Your lips part. “The season’s barely begun.”

And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose. 

-

“As your best friend—” Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancé’s lap. She claps. “I knew straight away—he was the one for you.”

-

Miami International Autodrome—-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)

“How long has this been going on for?” she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair. 

With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. “A week—”

“No.”

“Well, two—”

Green paints her face. “No.”

“One month,” he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. “It’s been a month. Ever since—”

“Azerbaijan.” Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. “Ew, gross,” Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. “Begging for forgiveness?”

“Oh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.”

You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. “Lissie, wait!”

Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. “You two know this isn’t a good idea, right?”

“Yes—”

“For a million different reasons—”

“I-I’m aware,” you stutter. 

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. 

And the truth is, you don’t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. It’s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago. 

Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. “That’s it. We’re done.” You turn to the RedBull driver. “Tell her.”

“Done.”

For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy he’s able to say that one word. Lissie’s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then she’s focused, appalled. 

“Are those your panties?”

-

“You were like a dog who couldn’t bear the idea of leaving its bone.” Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. “And I know—I know—I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, they’re scumbags—” 

“Ey. Watch it,” Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring. 

She shrugs. “But I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister so…” Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. “I’m just so happy that you’re happy.” A pause. “That you're both happy.”

Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. “I love you,” you start. I know. “And I’m so happy that you never—”

A knowing smile. “I’d do anything for you.” 

-

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of this— the cramped room, his lips attacking your neck—makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him. 

“We s-shouldn’t.” You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you don’t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he can’t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm. 

“You’re probably right.” A steady stroke. “You should be out there.” His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. “Preparing those foolish questions.” A muffled moan. “But you’re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.”

Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. “You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t even try and blame it on—”

“Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 

Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. “Maybe, but who cares?”

You’re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. It’s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince. 

Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissie’s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like she’s reading right through you and your lies.

Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. “Who’s ready?”

-

“Finally,” Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. “Someone with an actual story to tell.” A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass of—

“Vodka, baby! That was my vodka—your champagne is right there.”

Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. “What yours is mine, no? Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”

He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. “Keep this up and you’re not going to be able to sleep later.”

“The opposite, actually,” you state as a matter-of-fact. “Just need to get blackout drunk.”

He cocks his head to the side. “That’s not like you.” “...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!” the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. “I found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they say—only drunks and children tell the truth.”

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Oui, the beer! Fucking amazing,” Pierre declares with a mouthful. 

“Say it, don’t spray it,” someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you weren’t a nasty drunk.

The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. “I read your article.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Have to admit, it's kind of boring. It’s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort of…” He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter. 

“Your time will come, Pierre, your time will come.”

“Shit, shit, shit! Bathroom!” Lissie’s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her. 

“Crap—you smell like shit.”

The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. “I smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I don’t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.”

A nose scrunch. “That’s not very lady-like.” She paces some more. “Let’s go.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes. 

“You should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.”

“What? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?”

Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. “Dilation.”

The Dutchman gags. “What…like when a woman gives birth?”

A sore laugh. “As in your eyes.” Another hit. “Y’know…they just look—different. When you look at her, I mean.”

And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, he’s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, but…

He licks his sudden dry lips. “Hm. Doesn’t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, she’s not my type.”

The Australian frowns. “Sucks. Lissie’s really cool.” His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. “Oh shit, no…”

In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. “You’re right, she is so cool—”

Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. “Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie…” A wince. “Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.”

And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. “Yeah. Of course.” He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. “I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” 

-

“He—” Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. “...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.” A whistle. “And if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

“Wow, congrats,” George says to your fiancé. “For not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.” You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you can’t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder. 

“That’s why I drank twice as much that day,” Pierre announces with a firm voice. “Because he was missing out on some fantastic beer.”

“Drunkard,” Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker. 

The tall Australian clicks his tongue. “So who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?”

Everyone’s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.

“What the fuck, I barely even drink!”

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“You.”

“Me?”

You snarl, stomping over. “She's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.”

Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. “She kept insisting! I felt bad.”

An eye roll. “Douche.”

He tries to make it up to you with a drink. “Pierre says they’re good.” You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. “Come on, trust me.” He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt. 

“Did you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?”

“Oh no. How many did you drink?”

Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he can’t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. “I don’t know. Too many.” He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. “He told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?” Another sip. “I told him I love him too.”

The Australian chuckles. “I didn’t expect you to fall for someone like him.”

“Me either. But I fell—tumbled.” You frown. “I’m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, y’know?”

His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“Because everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.” A shaky laugh. “And something that should feel fucking right, doesn’t.” Glossy eyes switch over to him. “Does that make sense?”

“Not really.” 

“Great,” you let out, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to understand.”

Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. “It doesn’t, and you want to know why?”

“Why?”

A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. “Because it looks like you really—really—like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.”

You scoff, furrowing your brows. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. “You can’t…”

“Yeah. I know.” A pause. “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

-

Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. “You two, it works. It always has.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. “H-holy fucking—hell.”

You moan, mouth hung wide open. “Feel so good, Maxie, so, so good.”

Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. It’s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment. 

He furrows his dark brows. “We-We’re not made for one another.”

“I know.” He grunts, animalistically. “They warned me about you.”

“They told me to stay away from you.” His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. “But God, it’s been impossible.” 

“Max, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m close.”

He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves. 

“Lissie…Daniel…they’re—”

“Right?” You choke up. “Yeah, you don’t know how much I hate that they are.”

He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almost—nearly. And you’re sure yours do too. 

Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. “So do I.” A tug. “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

A wet laugh. “I love you, too.” Wobbly smile. “And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

He hums. “What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

-

“I know many of you guys are wondering why I’m best man—”

“Not wondering, more like questioning,” Carlos quips with a sly smirk.

Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. “Because it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.” The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look. 

“Then again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

"You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what."

“It’s probably nothing or he’s just a sensitive little pussy,” you shoot back defensively. 

Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. “You can’t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,” she adds. “Just…think before saying anything.”

You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. “Fine.”

As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.

Or so you thought.

“Before I let you go, I do have one more question.” Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. “Would you consider yourself Ferrari’s savior or their scapegoat?”

“Jesus,” the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment. 

The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. “I-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for your…questions.” Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.

“Alrighty then,” Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. “Jitters, totally normal, but yeah, you’re done for today.”

-

“I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

“Would you look at that?” Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. “Max Verstappen got butthurt.”

The Dutchman scoffs. “No, I did not. I just don’t like stupid questions, and she made one.”

Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. “I could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.”

“I don’t.”

“Well too bad, I’m going to.”

-

“Yeah. You already said that.”

Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldn’t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance. 

“Hey!”

He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. “Hey.”

A wince. “I’m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

Charles blushes. “Am I that easy to read?”

“No, but Pierre let me know.” You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. “I sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.”

He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. “I’m not pissed.” You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Plus, I can’t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.”

“Oh. Duh. Of course.” Now you burn up. “I should have known. And it’s no excuse, but I’m new and I’m just…figuring it out.”

His eyes crinkle as he nods. “Who was the other driver?”

You groan. “Max.”

He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. “Yikes. Yeah, now he’s probably pissed.”

-

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

 “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. “L-Lissie,” you fill in with a subtle smile. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. “A little Vitamin D is always necessary.”

“Don’t care, I don’t want to look like a peanut in two years.” You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.

Charles extends his hands. “Can I have some more?”

You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. “Hypocrite.” 

Green eyes glare down, playfully.

-

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“I can’t believe someone’s rocking your boat,” Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. “This is monumental.” A teasing giggle. “We should definitely document this.”

As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. “And this, my dear, dear friend, is why I’ve been keeping this a secret.” She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. “Quit!”

The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. “Can I guess who it is?”

“No.”

“It’ll be fun!”

You spin around. “No, Lissie—no.”

“Nepo-Baby?”

Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. “They all are.”

“Fucking hell. So how will I know which one?”

A mocking laugh. “Oh, you’ll know.”

The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but they’re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess that—

“Oh my—it’s him!” She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. “I, um, will be right back!”

Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. “How did I not notice? I mean, shit, you’re eyes—they’re huge!”

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. “It means I know who it is.”

Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. “We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s really kind, and I…I really like him.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. “You get lost in his eyes, don’t you? Heard that could happen.” A swoon. “So what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?”

“Hm. No. More like green apple.”

She halts, mid-shimmy. “What do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would know—they scare me half of the time.”

“What are you talking about? Charles’ eyes are green.” The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but can’t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. “I told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.”

-

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles. 

She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. “It’s okay to be confused about your feelings.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.” You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. “But they’re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. It’s nauseating. He’s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but it’s endearing.” A soft smile and dreamy eyes. “He even helps with my notes.”

“But Max…he’s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isn’t like him to show me that he’s interested in getting to know me, but…” Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. “I want to get to know him. The real him.”

Lissie’s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all. 

She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. “You’ll know what to do, babe. But if we’re being realistic here, Charles won’t wait forever.” Pause. “And Max isn’t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.”

-

Bahrain International Circuit—March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

“Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces. 

“Working hard already? The season’s barely begun.” Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you haven’t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. “H-how was your summer break?”

Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. It’s embarrassing. “Never bad to get ahead, and I—had a good one. Much needed.” He nods attentively. “You look—” You stop before admitting. “Healthy. You look really healthy”

A booming chuckle. “Thanks. You look really healthy, too.”

Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. “Why are you here?” Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. “I mean—here.” You point at the tiny tent as if it weren’t obvious what you were referring to. “Here, here.”

The Dutchman’s lips dance, fondly. “Well I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.” He looks around with a subtle frown. “Is now a bad time?”

“Well—”

“Mate,” a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. “How have you been?”

“So, so. Yourself?”

“Good. Refreshed.” 

“For me?” he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. “Lazy Carlos, always sending you, right?”

The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. “Thank you, Charles.”

His smile widens, pecking your lips. “Still don’t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, you’re welcome.”

Max blinks. “W-when did this happen?”

The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. “Over break.”

“Oh.” Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. “You spent it in Monaco?”

A harsh tick. “Yes.” With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Do you want to start making your way over? I don’t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.”

Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. “See you on track?”

The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesn’t notice it, you do. Of course you do.

“See you on track.”

-

Miami International Autodrome—May 7, 2023

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. “You can’t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.” Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. “He adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?”

Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. “Lissie—”

“No. Just—stop. Stop talking.” Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. “How could you do this, too?”

“I never meant any harm—”

“Bullshit! Both of you are so stupid, it’s worrisome.” Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. “You have to tell him.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? He deserves to know.”

Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. “It’s going to kill him, Lissie. I can’t do that.”

And you can tell she’s running through her options because she’s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. “This has to end.”

You nod, desperately. “That’s it. We’re done.”

-

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

“You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles that’s making you feel that way?”

“No. Don’t even try and blame it on him.”

He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. “You’re not getting anything in return for lying. It’s pathetic.”

You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. “What's the lie?”

“That you love him.”

“I do love him—”

He groans into your neck. “You sound so pretty.” A sloppy thrust. “When you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.” Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. “Admit it, you’ve always enjoyed it.”

“You’re sick."

“Maybe, but you’re well worth it.” 

You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesn’t matter. “You’re a shitty friend—”

Jaw clenches. “You’re a shitty girlfriend.” When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. “Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?” 

“Maybe, but who cares?” 

And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more. 

-

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.” Daniel grimaces. “She’s taken.”

“I know,” Max stutters. “Who do you take me for?”

The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. “You think she’s pretty—that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he confirms. 

“And that’s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,” the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily. 

“Exactly.” A pause. “You get it.”

Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. “Y-yeah…because it’d be bad if you liked her, liked her.” 

“I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charles’s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh. 

“I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

-

“You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because it’s not Charles that you’ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. “You can’t…” Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. “You can’t do that to Charles. He loves you.”

“And I love him,” you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. “I’m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” A sore chuckle. “W-what matters is that I choose Charles. He’s the love of my life.”

And Daniel knows he probably shouldn’t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. “Just between us.”

You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside. 

 “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

-

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

 “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

“I love you, too. And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

“What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

He flinches. “I-it doesn’t have to be that way. You could lea—”

You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. “I can’t leave him, Max. It’s not that easy.”

He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. “A-and why not? Why can’t it be that easy?”

A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. “Because I’m engaged!”

He ricochets with a scoff. “Oh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?” You look away and he chuckles. “Because that’s what you are—a fucking cheater.”

Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what does that make you?”

“I am not a cheater.”

You snarl. “No, but you’re a God awful friend.”

He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. “You’re just—you know what? Fuck you.”

You gasp. “No. Fuck you.”

Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Of realizing what we actually are.”

Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. “What are we? A cheater and a bad friend?”

“No. A villain and their accomplice.” That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesn’t hurt, it’s not tight. It’s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. “You know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.”

“Okay, stop—”

“And I’m not innocent either—I’m well aware—but I’m not the one with a ring around their finger.”

“Stop!” you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but that’s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. “You’re right. We’re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? You’re fucking with my head, Max!”

He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. “You already know I’m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.”

“Max…”

He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. It’s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time. 

“Be honest with me, please.” Bloodshot eyes look up at him. “Is he your safest option? Is that what this is?”

And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out. 

“He’s someone I could envision a future with, Max.” A beat. “And you’re just a footnote.”

-

“Voilá!” Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. “That was beautiful, really, it really was.”

Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. “I had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.”

The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you they’d like it! Your fiancé kisses your cheek. “That’s why I chose him.” A playful frown. “You see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.”

Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. “I still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.” A stern look. “Like Lorenzo—wasn’t he the one that helped you buy the ring?”

“Yes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He would’ve felt left out.”

“Arthur’s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!” The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. “I lo—”

“Wait,” Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. “We all went around sharing but Max.”

“Yeah,” Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pierre hums. “Mate?”

Max blinks, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s alright. We’ve heard enough, don’t you think?” His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.

Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.

Because Daniel was Max’s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.

But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.

“Okay then,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. “I…”

“He doesn’t want to,” you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. “If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to say anything, it’s fine.”

“No.” Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. “I want y—” He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. “I want to.”

“Let him,” Charles says, chuckling softly. “Don’t kill his stride.”

So, with neat brows drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder. 

“I think it’s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.” 

“Oh shit,” Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth. 

Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. “If you’re not going to say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back. 

“If you hadn’t taken Pierre’s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadn’t spent summer break with him, then we wouldn’t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldn’t be here.” He swallows. “It’s the little things.”

“And, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesn’t then it won’t ever work out, but you two…” You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. “You two chose each other, so…cheers to that.”

“Wow,” Charles hums, blankly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt…” A sheepish grin. “Thank you, mate.”

It’s as if he’s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didn’t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. “Don’t mention it.” 

So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybe—just maybe—you were right all along. 

He gave his speech last.

He was the footnote.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[thinkinonsense]

Bewitched: The Rake and The Risk

˖⋆࿐໋ james logan howlett ✦ bridgerton au series

bewitched masterlist

chapter two

cw: flirting (mix of 1800s and modern day), jealousy, old time thoughts of women and marriage, james is a slut

pairing: viscount!logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: sorry this is later than intended! i try to aim for a new chapter every friday but college is kicking my ass right now. next chapter will be longer!! also!! if you want to be tagged for the bewitched series please comment on the original bewitched masterlist post linked above this<3 there are so many of you lovely readers who want to be tagged and i need a more organized way to find everyone to add. sorry for the minor inconvenience. i appreciate every one of you!!

main masterlist

in all the twenty-nine years of knowing james howlett, lady chamberlain never would have pictured him coming to her home to ask about the eligible bachelorettes of the ton.

"what do you want to know, my dear?" lady chamberlain asked, sipping a cup of tea as the two of them sat in the living room.

"i am coming to you because as you know, my mother is expecting me to wed sooner rather than later and i was wondering whom might be the best women to seek out this season." james said, lying through his teeth.

if james really wanted to know who the best women this season were, he would've just opened the latest issue of lady cavanaugh. both of them knew this but it was more fun for lady chamberlain to tease the viscount.

"hm.." she smiles. "anyone in particular?"

"no."

the lie falls with ease. too much ease but lady chamberlain sees right through him.

"well, i did take note last night that the only lady you danced with was lady worthington's niece." she remarks slyly.

"the french girl?" he asks, playing coy. "i think i remember her."

lady chamberlain wasn't going to play games with the boy in front of her.

"i would hope so, you seemed quite fawned of her."

"i don't know if i would say that much."

"hm, so you don't want to know who she's planning to attended the mask ball with?" lady chamberlain smirks, knowing she's got him hooked.

everyone in the ton looked forward to the queens mask ball each season. it was the perfect way to help break the usual ice of finding 'the one'. that's where most couples tend to meet for the first time.

"let me guess..." james rolls his eyes. "prince harrison?"

lady chamberlain shrugs, placing her tea cup back on the dish. "the two of them talked quite a bit after you stormed off. she seems quite smitten with him."

"it's the first ball of the season. she has plenty of time to look for a better husband." he scoffs.

"well, dear... there are people who search their whole lives for something that's been right in front of them the entire time."

the elderly woman's words rang true in the room but james was far too in denial to notice them. instead, his ego was eating him alive. why would you not jump at the opportunity to be with the viscount?

˖⋆࿐໋

this afternoon was the queen's annual tea party. all the ton's debutantes gather to make friends and share their predictions for this season. anxiously, you paced the cobblestones outside, waiting for the carriage to pick you up.

"dear, it's not lady-like to pace back and forth." your aunt calls out from the doorway.

"my apologies," you reply, not stopping your feet.

"you're snagging the hem of your gown!"

thank heavens that the carriage was approaching. she waves you off, wishing you luck on your first adventure alone in the ton, wishing desperately she could join you.

your goal today is to make at least one friend. you'll even settle for an allied.

once you arrive at the queen's castle, you step inside. covered in soft pastels, flowers, and butterflies; you immediately feel calm. everyone is chatting and sipping tea at the tables. you sit down in the first available seat.

"you're the diamond, correct?" someone whispered next to you asks.

you turn your head to see a blonde girl to the right. she's wearing a soft yellow dress that doesn't quite fit her right.

"correct." you nod, offering the girl a smile to which she returns.

"shouldn't you be sat with the queen?" she asks, nodding to one of the beautiful girls surrounding the queen.

"probably but this was the first seat i saw." you joke, sipping on your tea.

the girl laughs with a small nod and introduces herself. her name is bridget and her father is a jewelry maker for the queen.

"i saw you dancing with the viscount last night at the ball." she smiles. "do you fancy him?"

almost choking on your tea, you shake your head.

"no, no, no. i don't fancy the viscount." you state.

bridget hesitates, watching your body language closely. the pressure gets you to speak up again.

"why do you ask?"

"because the viscount is a major rake."

the word rake rolls off her tongue with pure disgust. you'd never heard someone with such respect as a viscount be called something so dishonorable. rakes were known for their ability to seduce and lead on women with no promise of marriage.

"but he talks of his desire for a wife?" you question, more to yourself than to bridget but alas, she answers anyway.

"only because his mama is practically begging for a viscountess." bridget whispers.

you suppose this made sense due to the fact that most rakes never even intend to wed and after your conversation with james last night, he made it clear that marriage was not something he craved.

"trust me, you aren't the first lady to attempt to tie down the viscount. well, at least you have a shot since you're the diamond this season and all." the blonde girl rambles.

"oh, heavens no!" you repeat.

"hm, that's sad..." she sighs. "he is quite handsome."

"most definitely but i intend to wed for pure reasons."

"if that's truly the case, stay as far away from the viscount as possible."

˖⋆࿐໋

for the rest of the afternoon, bridget's words stuck to the front of your brain. if james wasn't so intolerable, perhaps he would make a good husband to someone.

once everyone finished with their tea, you decided to go sketch in wisteria park. the weather was beautiful outside and gave you the perfect inspiration needed to work on a new piece. normally, you would only draw on the sides of the letters written to your father back home. no one was more supportive of you than your parents. in a world where women mean nothing more than their wombs to society, it was rare to have parents who let their daughters have dreams.

sat on a patch of grass near the small pond, you set up your quill, small tray of paints, and paper. in the area where you decided to sit, across from you stood a beautiful cherry tree. as you work on the outline, you can hear footsteps approaching.

"i should've known i would find you here." a familiar voice says.

you don't even glacé up at the person near you, paying no mind to the man who seeks your attention most.

"do you want something, my lord?" you ask, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

james' head spun every time those last two words fell from your lips, sounding to pretty the way that they roll of your tongue.

"you may call me, logan." he says. "if you so wish."

"logan?" you cock a brow, finally looking up at him.

"it's my middle name." he replies awkwardly.

"hm..." you pretend to ponder for a moment. "that's far too personal for me."

" 'too personal'? how might that be?"

james stands arms crossed against the cherry tree, glaring in your direction. you don't rush to answer his question instead you continue adding details to the branches and trees. he huffs under his breath, clearly irritated your lack of interest in him.

"well, we have no intentions to be together this season and we aren't friends so, there's no need for nicknames and such." you reply nonchalantly.

"you don't know my intentions"

a sweet giggle escapes you. james brushes off the warmth flooding his chest, rather focusing on topic at hand.

"oh, i bet i do."

suddenly, you drop your quill and give him your undivided attention.

"why are you even here, james?" you sigh.

"i was visiting an old friend this morning and wanted a stroll through the park."

"an old friend?"

the words left your lips before you could stop yourself. james was quick to notice the tone shift. he smirks, walking over to you and sitting on the grass to your right.

"mhm..." he hums.

"is she viscountess material?" you scoff, returning to your scribbles.

"and why would you care?"

why did you care? it's not like the two of you really know each other; yet, something about james made your blood boil. perhaps it was how he has a near perfect life and somehow still complains. he has no issues in finding a partner because everyone wants him. if he didn't have his head up his own ass, he would realize that.

"i don't."

"sounds like you do."

james liked watching your face scrunch up at little with dislike for him. how your pressure on the quill increases. how you avoid his gaze. how you pretend he doesn't exist next to you.

"i don't." you repeat. "i just cannot believe that someone like you is complaining about having to take a wife when all the women of the ton are smitten with you."

"someone like me?" james pretends to be offended but he was too busy enjoying this riled up version of you.

"someone who never gone with unmet needs, never struggled financially, never been under minded or overlooked." your words come out sharp but james doesn't let them cut deep.

"look, sweetheart..." he squints those hazel eyes, glaring deep into your soul and leaning in closer than he should've. "you know nothing of my families struggles."

"and you know nothing of mine."

james was so close to you. your noses almost touching before you pull away. being within his close proximity made you feel a foreign warm tingle deep in your stomach.

thank heavens that the park was empty, minus the two of you. the last thing you needed was for someone to see the two of you this close and label you as one of the viscounts mistresses.

"i-i must get going." you stutter, collecting your belongings.

"where are you off to?" he asks.

"i'm supposed to be accompanying lady chamberlain and prince harrison to dinner this evening."

his face scrunches with distaste at the mention of the prince. also, why would lady chamberlain hide this piece of information from him?

"isn't it quite early to prepare for dinner?"

"i must look perfect for the prince." you smile.

but not at james. you're smiling for that no good excuse of a prince who couldn't see that you already were perfect.

"you look fine to me." he huffs.

"it's vocabulary like that, that keeps you from finding a wife."

"and to think it was my insufferable personality that kept the ladies of the ton away."

it's difficult to hide the laugh you want to let out. instead you bite down on your cheek, not giving him the satisfaction of your laughter.

"ha ha ha." you mock dryly.

"do you always have a stick up your ass?"

james question makes your jaw drop. never in your life have you heard a man speak so vulgarly.

"that's no way for a viscount to speak to a lady." you scold. he can't help but roll his eyes at your comment.

"i'm sure that a man has spoken even more colorfully to you."

"what are you insinuating, my lord?"

"that i highly doubt a lady such as yourself still has her virtue." he shrugs.

never has your head spun so fast at a single sentence. you couldn't fathom that a rake like him has the nerve to question anyone's virtue.

"excuse me, viscount howlett but my virtue is none of your business." you rage. "and you have quite the nerve to question it."

"and why's that?"

james was playing with fire but he didn't mind getting scorched by your flames.

"i've heard the stories about you."

"like what?"

"like what you do with the promiscuous women of the night." your words leave a smirk plastered on his face as he watches you intensely.

"don't act so innocent either." james hums. "i'm sure you've had your fair share of promiscuous adventures in france."

a flush of red hits at your cheeks. the last person you wanted to talk about promiscuous acts with is james. mostly because your lack there of. only your own hands have touched you so intimately.

james studies your facial expression before it clicks for him. he shouldn't ask. he really shouldn't. but come on, he has to.

"have you never—" his words come to a halt when there's a ruffled noise inching closer.

"i'm under no obligation to answer you, viscount howlett." you scold, collecting your belongings.

"hm... seems like you've already answered my question." his cocky tone sends you over the edge of annoyance.

"shouldn't you be more concerned with finding a wife rather than my virtue? this season will be over before you know it and you will need to find one sooner rather than later."

james admired the way you spoke with such sharpness. you were shy and reserved but the weight of your words were heavy. there was grace in the way you spoke and he loathed it.

he loathed how perfect you were. how absolutely perfect you would fit into his life. how perfect you would be at being his little wife. only needing to plan parties and open your womb to his child. he would never stop you from your dream of painting either. all he wants is someone who can handle the duties that come with being his other half.

by the time james snaps out of his thoughts, you are long gone. off to get ready for your date with a man who's twice as rich as him and much more likable. the only thing he could do is hope that nothing good comes from this dinner.

──★

i'll tag everyone else who commented in the morning when i wake up <3

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[formulawolff]

"keep 'em comin'" - m.v.

pairing: girl best friend!reader x max verstappen

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, light marijuana usage, cussing, max munching on some cooter! (that will come later in the fic), enemies to friends to lovers, typical men behavior (being creepy in a bar), mentions of physical threats, kelly slander, THINGS ARE MESSY BETWEEN KELLY AND MAX (so if y'all don't like light infidelity/gray areas then don't read) yadayadayada (y'all already know the vibes)

a/n: hellllloooo! <3 this is my first time writing for max so if this isn't quite like him, i apologize in advance. this fic is based off of a request and i had to write about it since i've been feral for max (he finally took off that damned cap!) this may end up as a two or three part series. we'll see, we'll see!

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

"i see the decrepit hag decided to let you out of her clutches tonight. congratulations for being able to be out and about in public without her breathing down your neck!"

the figure standing to your left scoffs, muttering a few incoherent words under his breath. he slides into the booth, propping his chin up with a hand. the other finds the glistening glass, a bead of condensation rolling down, pooling onto the rigid table.

"about that."

"what about it?" you arch a brow, lips connecting with the rim of your own drink, "max, did something happen before you left?"

he shrugs, brows pinching together as he sips on his mixed drink, a decadent yet smooth concoction of his favorite liquors blended together, "it's nothing serious."

"max," setting your glass down, you lean forward ever so slightly, his name louder than normal over the overwhelming mixture of voices and volume, "what. happened."

"oh you know," he waves a hand, careful not to meet your piercing gaze, "she's upset that i was going out to see you. that's all."

the moment max mentioned her, you knew exactly who she was.

she was kelly piquet. max verstappen's beloved wag. the woman who scooped him up the moment that clock struck midnight on his eighteenth birthday.

the woman you loathed more than anyone in the world.

but you wouldn't tell max that.

after all, you couldn't. the pair had been dating for quite some time. and although max wouldn't say it outright, you were well aware that she was not going anywhere anytime soon.

no matter how much the two fought. no matter how much she wanted to make your relationship with max as strained as possible.

your friendship with max had a rocky start. tumultuous, even. the two of you met when you were both seventeen, as your parents were mutual friends. since max was involved in racing, and you aimed to pursue professional photography, max's father suggested that the two of you get to know one another.

of course, at that time, the last thing teenage max wanted was some nerdy girl following him around. especially when there were other teenage boys involved. cool teenage boys who enjoyed to fuck around with fast machinery.

he teased you relentlessly, tormenting you whenever he could. he ridiculed your photographic abilities, scorning the prints or slideshows you provided. often times, he stated that your pictures were, "absolute shit" and your clip compilations "were not going to get you anywhere in formula one."

of course, you matched his energy. after all, you weren't going to take anyone's shit. you knew you had to advocate for yourself. you weren't going to make it in the industry if you weren't assertive.

eventually, your snapshots landed you a job at red bull. well, max did have a part to play in that.

after a couple of years, the dutch driver apologized for the way he treated you at the time, requesting a truce. the truce would consist of you sticking around as his personal media manager.

in turn, he would promote your work to the world of formula one and assist you in your way up the ladder in any way he could. he would land your sponsorships. he would chip in some cash here and there to get you more advanced software or equipment.

the only stipulation was that you had to follow him.

everywhere and anywhere he went. every event. every interview. every grand prix.

no. matter. what.

of course, with the stakes involved, you knew it was too good of a deal to refuse. with max's rise to prominence in formula one, you knew it was now or never.

so, you accepted his offer.

oh jos verstappen, what a bastard you were.

cause now, here you were in vegas, sitting across from the man you loved. well, the man you were in love with.

hopelessly and utterly in love with.

"that isn't unusual for her," you scoff, hands reaching for your purse, "i do have something that could lighten the mood!"

"and that is?" max's gaze follows your hand, making note of the delicately wrapped joint between your fingers.

"my friend mary jane!"

"you of all people know i shouldn't be smoking," the dutch driver shakes his head, yet proceeds to scoot out of the booth anyway, "i'll still come out there with you. i won't be taking any hits though."

"yeah, yeah," you wave a hand, "that's what they all say."

as you slip out of the booth, you feel max's hand connect with your lower back, almost guiding you through the throng of locals. a few of them chirp greetings to max, others chattering, creating a buzz within the air.

well, there went any sort of anonymity.

so much for keeping a low profile for the weekend.

yet, when in vegas, that was almost impossible to maintain. especially when you were a man of max's caliber.

the two of you manage to slip out, just before fans started asking for autographs. of course, max obliged to a few, signing a cap here and an arm there.

even though it was quickly approaching december, the air was mild, dipping in the low fifties. max hovers to your right, shuddering as a breeze rolls through. you curse as it quenches your flame, motioning for max to stand closer.

"can you shield me for a moment, pretty boy?"

"pretty boy?"

from the way the words tumbled from his mouth, max seemingly was not to keen to the idea of being referred to as pretty boy. yet, he inches even closer to you, providing a barrier as the lighter comes to life, igniting your delicate pre-roll.

"what else should i call you?" shrugging, you exhale, the smoke billowing into the night, "or do you prefer world champion?"

"how much did you have to drink before i got here?" the dutch driver cocks his head, his stare almost picking you apart.

"enough," you respond, lips curling into a devious grin, "don't act like you didn't like that."

"i did," he counters, "that's the issue here."

"and why is that an issue?"

"because we used to fucking despise one another. we used to tear one another apart. and now here i am, going out for drinks with you when i shouldn't be. here i am, looking forward to your texts or your snaps when i know i should be thinking about someone else.

fuck, even when i'm with her, my mind wanders to you. we're together all of the fucking time yet i crave you. i miss you when we're apart. what are you doing to me?"

before your mind can even formulate a coherent response, an individual saunters up to the two of you, drinks in hand.

it's an older man, approximately in his early or mid fifties. he's balding, as a few of the greasy hairs were poorly combed over. he was well dressed, but poorly groomed, as there was quite the scruff plaguing his feautures.

"good evening," his words are directed towards you, yet you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes were fixated on your joint, "i was wondering if the pretty lady could exchange a hit or two for a-"

"she's not accepting shit from you," max's voice is low, the driver taking another half step toward you, almost to shield you even further.

"c'mon man," the man drawls, the words slurred, "i wasn't fucking speakin' to ya. i was talkin' to her."

"and i'm talking to you," max's jaw clenches, "get the fuck out of here."

"and you are?" the man arches a brow, "surely not her boyfriend."

"actually i am," the words are forced through gritted teeth, the driver's fists clenched to his sides, "i'm her fiancé. i suggest you leave before i-"

"got it," the man exhales, rolling his eyes, "it was worth a shot. what the fuck ever man."

as he turns to head back towards the bar, you feel fingers find yours, intertwining together. max squeezes your hand gently, "are you okay?"

"fiancé?" relief ripples as you notice his demeanor crumble, "what was that all about? were you manifesting something or-"

"come on," max tugs at your hand, "let's go to another place. get a few more drinks. keep 'em comin'. keep the alcohol flowin', you know?"

"max," clicking your tongue, you frown as your realize your joint was burnt out, "what is going on between you and kelly?"

"i don't want to talk about her right now," the driver won't even look at you, keeping his focus on the glow and ambiance of the city, "we can talk about anything else but her. please. i don't even want to think about her right now. shouldn't you be relieved? why aren't you relieved?"

"because you look stressed the fuck out!" you retort, "and it stresses me out because i love you and i can't handle seeing you all bummed about some hag who is only using you!"

max freezes, your hand flying up to your mouth. heat floods your cheeks, heart thudding against your rib-cage as you realize what just came pouring from your mouth.

"did you just tell me that you love me?"

his voice is soft. dangerously low. merely a whisper, barely audible over the bustling noise of vegas.

tears well up, shame setting your body ablaze as you nod, biting your lower lip, "y-yeah. and i know i shouldn't-"

"shut the fuck up," hands meet with your cheeks, bringing you in close, "just shut the fuck up and come here."

in that moment, max's mouth finds yours. the kiss is tender, brimmed with nothing but passion, breathing life back into your lungs. it was grounding yet exhilarating, waves of euphoria crashing over.

he pulls away, forehead brushing against yours, "why haven't i done this sooner?"

"because kelly-"

"i don't give a fuck about kelly right now."

"give a fuck about me then," you murmur against his mouth, relishing the way his hands explore, roaming along your back, trailing down to your ass, "you think we should take this somewhere more private? before someone snaps a photo of max verstappen making out with his media manager?"

"that's a good idea," he nods, "i'll arrange an uber."

although it was merely minutes in the time it took between getting into the uber and making it to your hotel room, it felt like an eternity. yet, with the way max's hand gripped your thigh the entire drive, you didn't complain. the other hand held onto yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles.

if only this was your everyday life.

if only things were different.

if only he fell in love with you first.

once the two of you were in the elevator, he maintained his composure, as there were other people stepping in and out. there was even a little boy, in awe that his favorite driver was staying in the same hotel as him. max was kind enough to gift him one of his beaded bracelets, a small memento from a win during the 2022 season.

if only that child knew what his favorite driver was really up to.

once that light on your keypad flashed green, his mouth was on yours, tongue gliding along your lower lip, practically begging for access. his hands were all over, tugging on your clothes, desperate to see what was underneath.

"fuck," there's a rumble in his chest as he lays on you on the bed, pinning you to the mattress.

"what?" you can't help but wriggle a little, slightly flustered by the intensity of his gaze.

"you have no idea how much i've thought about this," a dusty rose hue tinges his cheeks, "i-i almost don't know what to do now. i've thought about it so frequently that i had it down to every little detail. and now i have you here, right where i want you but i feel like i'm going to fuck this up and-"

"max," tender fingers sweep locks of hair from his forehead, "do what you feel is right."

"i just want to show you how much i love you. i need you to know how loved you are."

"i think i have an idea," the tip of your nose brushes against his, "is there anything i can do to help?"

"will you let me taste you?"

instinctively, your hips buck forward, legs spreading so that he can have access. you can feel his cock stiffen in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh, aching for some sort of relief.

"yes," you nod, "you can taste me."

"f-fuck," his jaw nearly goes slack as you guide his hand through the waistband of your panties, the pad of his index finger circling your clit, "you're this wet for me? already? my poor baby. all soaked and desperate for me."

"m-max," the way his name falls from your lips is intoxicating, "i need you."

"are you sure this is okay?" he pauses, eyes meeting with yours, "if at any moment you need me to stop, just tell me."

"you are more than okay. i promise."

fingers delicately unbutton your jeans, rolling them down your legs. in the process, you peel off your hoodie and shirt, tossing them to the floor.

just the mere sight of you half-dressed had him coming undone, his inhibitions slipping away by the second. fuck, you were so stunning. someone who deserved to be worshipped and cherished.

far more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

situating himself between your legs, max's mouth roams, placing wet kisses all over your inner thighs, hips, and abdomen. his tongue flattens against your heated core, savoring the way you squirmed under his touch.

"you need me to taste you baby?" he coos, cocking his head.

"yes," you plead, skin hot to the touch, your clit engorged, folds slick with juices.

"hmmm," he hums, hands grasping your thighs to spread you open further.

"once i get these off of you, you're all mine. and only mine. got that?"

yet, there was one thing that happened to slip max verstappen's mind that night in vegas.

well, one woman.

the woman he referred to as his girlfriend, but the woman he was not in love with.

kelly piquet.

[dixons-sunshine]

A Risk | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an attempt to hide from a herd, Daryl sought cover in an abandoned cabin. However, he stumbled across a woman that threatened him, and he soon figured out that there was more to her than meets the eye.

Era: Prison, pre season four.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to near death, walkers.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: Requested by @nikkicloudie. I hope you like this!

“I said: Lower. Your. Fucking. Weapon.”

Against his better judgement, Daryl slowly and hesitantly lowered his crossbow, allowing it to drop to the floor with a dull clink. Once his beloved crossbow was out of his grasp, he raised his hands above his head in surrender.

“I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble, lady,” Daryl spoke up, his ocean-coloured eyes flickering between the gun in your grasp and your face. He was searching for any change in your demeanour, for any sign that you would attack. “Jus’ passin’ through. M’hidin’ from that herd that’s ‘bout two miles from here. M’waitin’ ‘em out.”

Daryl could see the contemplation on your face. With a mere glance at your face, and the way your grip slightly loosened around the gun, the archer knew he was not in any immediate danger. However, he still did not let his guard down. Perhaps you were a master of deception, and you were simply playing him. He did not want to risk it.

“Go.” you finally voiced after a good while of silence. “There’s another cabin about a mile up from here. If you leave now, you’ll make it before the herd gets here.”

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah. I ain’t riskin’ it. M’not leavin’.”

“Well that’s too damn bad, buckaroo,” you retorted, your gun being raised and aimed at him once more. “I’m not about to risk my s—my life for some stranger. Leave, or I’ll shoot you, I swear to god.”

“Listen, lady. I ain’t—”

Before Daryl could finish his sentence, a loud crash came from another room, followed by a cry. Was he going insane, or did that sound like a little kid? However, before Daryl could do anything, you turned around and bolted towards the source of the sound.

With a frown, Daryl picked up his crossbow and slowly walked towards the room you had disappeared into. He raised his weapon, fully prepared for an attack, but the sight that beheld him had him stopping in his tracks.

A walker laid dead by the window. You were down on your knees, your gun discarded a few feet away from you, and in your embrace was a little boy; the little boy looked no older than three years old. Suddenly, it all made sense to him. The new world gave everyone all the reasons to be extremely defensive, but you had another reason. You had someone you wanted, needed to keep safe.

Your eyes flickered up to meet Daryl’s, and the archer could clearly see how glassy they had become. It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that the little boy had almost been that walker’s next meal. If you had not appeared when you had… Daryl did not even want to finish that thought.

“You’re okay, Chris. I got you, Baby. Mama’s got you,” you murmured to the little boy in your arms. You gently picked him up as you raised from the floor and allowed him to bury his face into your neck, his quiet whimpers and sniffles being muffled. You looked back at Daryl, your expression less guarded, but more broken.

At that moment, Daryl had already made up his mind. You were clearly just a mom trying to defend her son from the harsh reality that was the world outside, and you had viewed Daryl as a potential threat, and you had every right to be wary of him. He supposed he did not look like the most warm, inviting person ever, and he definitely did not blame you for wanting him as far away from your son as humanly possible.

“M’from a place not too far from here,” Daryl spoke up after a few moments of contemplating his options. He continued when he noticed he had your full attention. “S’a prison that we converted into a community. It’s safe and secure, with ‘bout fifty people walkin’ around and makin’ due.”

“Is that an offer?” you inquired, your hand rubbing soothing circles over your son’s back. “I mean, I just threatened to kill you.”

Daryl shrugged and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. “I would’ve been more terrified of ya if ya didn’t point yer gun at me, considerin’ the world we live in now.” Daryl’s lips involuntarily twitched into a small smile when he heard your light chuckle. “I only have three questions for ya, though.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Sure. Shoot.”

“How many walkers have ya killed?” he began, studying your expression closely.

It was your turn to shrug. “I don’t know. A lot.”

“How many people have ya killed?”

A small beat of silence passed. “One.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t about to allow him to kill my son.”

Your answers were more than sufficient, considering the questions you were being asked. He was about to say something, until he heard groaning coming from outside. He ushered you down, and quickly sprung into action. He closed the window and lowered himself down against the wall, right next to you. He turned his head to look at you, and saw how you quietly tried to shush your son, who had started fussing once he picked up on the shift in the mood.

“Mama,” he whimpered, instantly being shushed by you.

“It’s okay, Baby. Shh. It’ll be over soon, okay?” You turned your head and looked at Daryl, your expression desperate. “I don’t know if what you’re saying is true or not, but I can’t live like this anymore.” For added emphasis, you motioned towards the window, where dozens of walkers were walking past. “My son isn’t safe like this. Your offer is just a risk I have to take.”

Daryl nodded. “I know ya dun’ trust me, but I’d never endanger yer lil’ one like that. Ya have my word on that.”

A few beats of silence passed. “I’m Y/N, by the way. This is Chris.”

“Daryl,” Daryl told you. “M’Daryl. And I promise m’gon’ make sure ya get yer lil’ boy to safety. Ain’t gon’ let nothin’ happen to him.”

[writerpeach]

Delectation

IVE An Yujin x Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

-30,699 words

part one | part two

-----

read on AFF

read on AO3

As expected, it takes far too long to get ready for dinner.

By the time Yujin showers, dries her hair, does her makeup, finds the right outfit, and picks out the perfect earrings, it’s already dark when she emerges from the bathroom. On your end, you’ve spent a grand total of under five minutes finding a nice pair of khaki pants, and that one black shirt that Yujin really likes, the same one that’s been sitting in the back of your closet since last spring.

All that time spent was well worth it though, because Yujin looks absolutely breathtaking, and it makes no difference how much time has passed, because you like watching Yujin get dolled up. You can’t help notice the way her eyes flutter while she focuses on her makeup, the way her lips purse up while she finishes her lipstick, and how her nose scrunches up whenever she laughs as she spots your reflection in the mirror, knowing you can’t keep your eyes off her for a second.

“How do I look?” Yujin asks, twirling around to give you the full view of this tight little white dress that she hasn’t had an opportunity to wear, one that’s strapless, cuts off mid-thigh, and gives you all the best places to stare at shamelessly. It’s a feast for your eyes, and Yujin loves the attention you’re giving her, smiling in satisfaction when she turns to face your direction.

You can’t imagine what the goofy grin on your face is like right now, since you’re borderline drooling over how well Yujin fills out that dress, how good she looks in heels that accentuate those incredible long legs, and how devastatingly sexy she looks in that angelic white. There’s not a single part of Yujin that looks out of place, every piece of her outfit chosen to meticulous perfection.

“Like I could skip dinner and eat you instead.”

Yujin blushes. It’s a good thing Wonyoung’s waiting in the kitchen, because for sure she would groan at that. When Yujin closes the distance, she places a small peck on your cheek, wiping her lipstick mark away with her thumb.

“Daddy looks so handsome too…”

Yujin plays with the collar of your shirt before she wraps her hands around the nape of your neck, drawing you into her alluring gaze. There’s this look—this dangerous look, that all of her efforts to look this good might be for naught, because you know she just has to say the word, and that expensive dress will be in a heap on the floor before your next breath.

“Come on, daddy. We don’t want to keep our little princess waiting. You know she’ll be in a bad mood all night.”

Yujin breaks line of sight, grabbing her purse, and leads the way down the stairs, allowing you to appreciate the rear view that her dress provides, that sinful hourglass body with those perfect hips swaying in time with the clack of her heels.

“About time,” Wonyoung says, that familiar petulance creeping up in her voice as she stays leaned over the kitchen island with phone in hand, not even bothering to look up until you two reach the last step of the staircase. “Almost went up there to check on you two. Make sure you hadn’t fucked daddy’s brains out again.”

There's the faintest blush on Yujin's cheeks again as she approaches her younger roommate, pinching her cheeks affectionately as if that'll be enough to disarm her. “I thought about it.”

As Wonyoung shoves her away, Yujin smiles sheepishly, and gets a halfhearted glare aimed her way while losing attention to whatever game is on the screen.

All this time, Wonyoung is too restless to leave, wearing a pink elegant cocktail dress, one that’s a little more modest than Yujin’s but still does her figure justice. She looks like the epitome of prim and proper, a sharp contrast to Yujin, who radiates such overpowering sex appeal; who can get an entire room to look at her the moment she walks through the door.

No doubt they’re a deadly duo, two very different sides of the same coin. Yujin, with her vixenish smile, equipped with these deadly bedroom eyes that keep you on edge for what could happen at any minute. Wonyoung, with her doll-like features and that cute little pout, the one she reserves for when there’s something she wants and won’t back down. When they’re this close together, it’s beauty incarnate, seduction and innocence fused into one alluring package.

Yujin can’t keep her hands off you, ruffling her fingers through your hair while she’s adjusting your shirt, admiring how good you clean up when you want to.

"Are you two done flirting with each other?“ Wonyoung asks, furrowing an eyebrow. “I'm getting hungry.”

"No," Yujin replies without missing a beat, brushing a stray hair off Wonyoung’s forehead. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Wonyoung crosses her arms, and she might explode if she has to wait one more second.

“Whatever, can we just go already? Unless you two need to get a quickie in before we leave,” Wonyoung says in a huff, rolling her eyes and gathering up her jacket. Before either of you say anything else, she loops an arm through yours in a hearty attempt to get this whole train moving, and it’s quite amusing how impatient she can get.

Yujin follows closely behind with this sly grin (one that knows the suggestion isn’t entirely out of the question), until you’ve finally left the apartment and piled into the elevator, descending to the private parking garage.

“Which car are we taking? The Audi? Mercedes?” Wonyoung asks, surveying the sea of expensive cars all lined up in a row next to each other. It’s an absurd question to be honest, like she’s asking what dress she should wear instead of which of these dozen or so cars you should take. But to these two girls, it’s absolutely normal to have this menagerie of luxury at their disposal, each more expensive than the last. You’d be happy to be in a broken down station wagon as long as you’re in their company.

Before you can even say that it really doesn’t matter, Yujin answers the question for you, running a manicured hand along the polished hood of a red Maserati. It’s exquisite, with this rich crimson exterior, chromed out rims, and black leather seats, it’s a head-turner for sure, and so very Yujin.

“This one’s my favorite,” Yujin says, strutting towards the driver’s side door. “Just like daddy...”

The compliment doesn’t seem fair when you’re being compared to this gorgeous beauty of a car, but you’ll take it. Wonyoung seems less enthusiastic at the choice, given that she’ll pick her pink Ferrari on any given day, but shockingly, she’s without complaints.

Yujin slides into the driver’s seat, then Wonyoung claims the passenger side, which leaves you to awkwardly clamber into the small backseat where you can’t avoid hitting your head, getting a double dose of giggles for your troubles. There’s less legroom than you’d like, but the leather seats and sexy interior more than make up for it.

When you’re all buckled up, you can see the uncontained excitement in Yujin as her hands stroke over the steering wheel, and her eyes light up when she fires up the engine, making it purr to life. The weather’s every bit perfect, so she puts the top down after pulling out of the parking space, speeding out of the garage and into the street while the wind blows in your hair.

It’s not a long drive, but traffic makes it longer, and if it were up to Yujin she’d fly past every single stop light without a second thought. The restaurant is in a nicer part of the city, and you’re able to enjoy the serenity of it from the backseat, following the stars while the music’s blaring and the rush of the wind hits your face.

When you arrive, there’s an unnecessarily long line out front. Yujin tells you she’s got that taken care of as she sees the concern on your face, and there’s nothing to worry about when you pull up next to the valet. Wonyoung pre-tips him rather generously, along with a warning not to scratch the paint, which is rather amusing considering it’s not even her car, but she’s pretty protective of anything and everything belonging to her best friend (that includes you).

You can smell steak before you even head inside the double doors, and the way the girls link arms when they head in almost makes you feel like you’ve become the third wheel on a date of theirs. But while they wait for you to catch up, offering reassuring smiles when making room in the middle for you is a gentle reminder that you’re anything but, nor are you a stray that these girls took pity on.

This is meant to be a special occasion, even if you feel out of place among the myriad of well dressed patrons in tailored suits and extravagant dresses who seem to blend right in. As best as you can, you’re not going to let it get to you, because you might not have their wealth or status, but you have something money can’t buy—these two gorgeous women hanging off your arms that enjoy your company.

“Table for three,” Yujin says, feigning embarrassment when the host’s eyes widen at the name of the reservation, since apparently her name has a reputation around these parts. It's mysterious—a part of Yujin you haven't been privy to, or pressed for any details about—partly because it's not your place, partly because there's something sexy about the unknown.

While you’re left thinking about what an enigma Yujin is, you’re ushered into a large corner booth with a perfect view of the skyline, and only then does the realization kick in about how packed the place is as you marvel at the high ceilings, the lavish decor on the walls, the overall elegance at a place you’d never be able to afford to visit on your own.

Everything about the dining room is ornate, the fancy lighting overhead, the lit candles atop each table, all of it confirming that these girls want nothing but to spoil you rotten. You’re overwhelmed by the menu, even before noticing the prices, and you're nothing but thankful you won't have to empty your bank account tonight.

The waitress comes to introduce herself and gather drink orders; Wonyoung orders red wine, Yujin orders a stiff martini, and you opt for a more boring route—plain old ice water.

You can sense the combined disappointment on their faces before you even finish, but someone has to be responsible, and make sure everyone makes it home in one piece. And hey, it’s a good excuse to be able to drive Yujin’s luxurious car back to the apartment. It’s not like they’ve planned on getting completely hammered, but at least loosen up a little bit, since nights like this are bound to be unpredictable.

“Well,” Wonyoung starts, nursing her glass of wine before taking a delicate sip, licking the remnants of the alcohol off those glossy lips. “What sounds good?”

“Steak,” Yujin replies with a giggle, stating the hyper obvious while she takes the opposite approach, downing her drink like it’s water, and she’s liable to finish it before even getting to order. The menu’s got so many options, from a dozen different cuts of steak, to lobster, to types of fish you didn’t even know existed (you swear some of these have to be made up).

When the waitress comes around to take your orders, you all end up settling on pretty much the same thing, but funny enough, Wonyoung orders the biggest cut of steak out of the three of you. How she stays so trim and fit remains one of life’s greatest mysteries.

“So, daddy,” Yujin pauses, and already she’s on her second martini, which is a dangerous thought on its own, as dangerous as her using that word in public, especially when you’ve got nothing but water to defend against that smirk of hers. There’s one from Wonyoung as well, all equal parts of mischievous, like they’ve been silently scheming something since sitting down, waiting until the right moment to enact the next phase of their devious plan. “What do you think—“

Her words trail off on purpose, not even trying to be subtle as Yujin traces the rim of her martini glass with one finger, those little rotations slow and steady to keep your attention glued to her before she dips her middle finger inside, sucking the alcohol clean off.

It’s impressive, how on every little occasion Yujin manages to turn the simplest thing into some erotic act: like when she takes the olive from her toothpick and runs it along those soft, sultry lips, pops it into her mouth, then takes her time to chew before she tilts her head back and swallows it down.

It’s all your fault, you suppose, for thinking this was just an ordinary dinner without any ulterior motive. And yet, you know this is just the preamble for what’s going to unfold later tonight as you think about all the ways Yujin can get in your head. Your shared roommate Wonyoung makes a good accomplice, because she can mask her intentions with that coy little smile that makes her look oh so innocent, when you know she’s anything but.

A loud slurp of her drink, and Yujin scoots closer towards you, until she’s pressing her thigh against your leg. Wonyoung follows suit, the three of you in a tight huddle, sandwiched together, and there it is—the first of many shared glances to keep you guessing what their intentions are, and they could just about be anything.

“You know, it’s going to take a while to cook our steaks. That gives us plenty of time to kill, doesn't it, daddy?” You’re not even looking at Yujin when she’s speaking, because maybe if you don’t acknowledge her, maybe that thought won’t finish—

“What do you say we head to the bathroom, you can hike this dress up and…”

A fruitless endeavor.

Yujin reaches over to grab your wrist, dragging it up her exposed thigh, inching it higher. She’s about to guide it between those devilish legs, but finds herself interrupted when the waitress comes to check on the table just in time.

“Yujin, we came here to eat,” you growl, pulling away as the waitress heads back to the kitchen with promises that your meal should be out momentarily, but that can’t ever be soon enough.

It’s so easy for Yujin to get so carried away, and despite the fact that you’re in public only encourages her to take things to the extreme. “Well, there’s not any food here yet. So I thought maybe if you wanted a little appetizer…”

Again, what an absurd thought that this would be just a normal outing. You’re really regretting being stuck with water, half-tempted to make a beeline over to the bar and start chugging shots. Even one small sip of alcohol would help deal with Yujin’s advances.

But it’s not like you don’t want what she’s offering, that you wouldn’t want to devour her before the food gets here. You couldn’t even make it to the bathroom, just drop to your knees and eat her out right at this booth, risk it all to get your mouth between those mouthwatering legs.

Between these two with devilish intentions, you have to be the reasonable one here. No matter how ravishing Yujin looks in that sexy little dress, you’ll have to keep your thoughts in check, and certainly, you have to keep her greedy hands away from your crotch. There’s a time and place for this, and it’s not in front of all of these people, when you don’t need any extra attention.

Wonyoung keeps playing her part, which is to say, offering no assistance, just idling on the sideline, swirling around the red liquid in her glass as she smiles wickedly at your discomfort, which you know she can pile on.

Worst of all, there aren’t even any appetizers to distract you from all this, as you’ve agreed on skipping them in lieu of not getting full before the main course. It’s not helping the way Yujin leans against your shoulder, tracing patterns along the inside of your thigh with her fingers, unwavering with all this teasing. Right now, your biggest problem is trying to not catch an erection in public, but despite your best efforts, Yujin just might brute force it regardless.

Much to the dismay of the pretty girls on either side of you, the steaks arrive just in time, and you’re endlessly grateful for this succulent meat savior from making the situation any more arduous. That first bite is nothing short of orgasmic, melting in your mouth, and it’s the distraction you desperately need from any further Yujin shenanigans. You think it doesn’t get better than this—the best steak you’ve had in your life, enveloped by two beautiful girls, in this pleasant atmosphere. There’s nothing more to ask for.

“How’s yours, daddy?” Yujin asks, offering you a bite of her own steak as she brings the juicy meat close to your mouth. It’s not that different from yours, but you swear, the way the flavor lingers on your tastebuds, that it somehow tastes even better when you’re eating it off her fork.

“Really good,” you say, which is really underselling just how damn delicious it is, but you don’t want to waste time with words when you can focus on eating. Wonyoung just sits and watches the two of you swap bites off of each other's plate, almost in her own world while she cuts into her steak with all the grace of royalty.

It’s these little differences between the two that’s humorous; Wonyoung seems to exist on a different planet than anyone else, taking these small, delicate bites, elegantly bringing her fork to her lips, while Yujin resorts to eating in large, hungry bites, practically stabbing her meat. The destination is the same, just with different modes of travel.

Ultimately, you’re just happy to spend time with the inseparable pair, appreciating a quality meal, and savoring the quiet moments, the calm before the proverbial storm. There’s never any final satisfaction with these two, as evidenced by the massive slice of cheesecake that’s been shared between three forks, one last moment of pure indulgence before heading home.

Yujin downs the remainder of her third martini after grabbing her black card from the waitress, and she leaves behind a more than generous tip that could clear the average person’s rent. Exiting the booth, it turns out Yujin isn’t too far gone despite having her fair share to drink, but it always makes her a little (more) clingy, wrapping both hands around your bicep in an almost protective manner. Similarly, Wonyoung skips to the side, singing this inaudible song while the three of you make your way to the valet without any care in the world.

By the time the Maserati gets brought around, it looks brand new, like it’s been given the works before being returned. The keys get returned to Yujin, who then hands them over to you without hesitation, and she tips again generously, as if showing off how much money she carries around.

You’re not going to take this responsibility lightly when you’ve been given the reins to command such a powerful beast. Sliding into the driver’s seat, it feels like you’re sitting on a golden throne, and you need a moment to take it all in, need a moment to appreciate the extravagance you’re surrounded in.

“You look like you’re about to lose your virginity,” Wonyoung teases, her petite figure climbing into the backseat with finesse, unlike yourself, who flopped in with all the grace of a raging bull.

It’s a fair comparison, because this car is sex on wheels. And then Yujin takes her place beside you, strapping in, the most dangerous passenger you could have.

“You’ll get us home safe, right, daddy?” Yujin asks, leaning over to kiss your check with a hint of alcohol on her breath, but this time marks your cheek with her red lipstick.

The answer is an obvious yes, but when the car roars to life with this low growl that comes with the simple push of a button, you have this overwhelming desire to ignore every last traffic law and stop sign in existence.

Once you've hit one of the main streets after leaving the restaurant, Yujin’s lips get close enough to brush against your earlobe, and she speaks in this low, sultry whisper that drips nothing but lust. “I’m going to love watching you ruin our little princess, daddy. I can’t wait to see how your cum looks dripping out of her holes.”

Those two little sentences nearly take your entire concentration away, but you’ve been stuck at a red light for far too long, so you get a reprieve to let your brain recover from turning to mush. Wonyoung’s rather quiet, which is suspicious in its own way, and she’s not saying much while staying in the background, or perhaps lost in the music, but you can’t help how it has you on edge more than it should.

There’s not much said during the last long stretch of open highway, which lets you experience the car’s full potential, and has you forgetting what speed limits are.

When the apartment comes back in view, it’s an almost regrettable sight. You could miss the turn, put this fearsome thing through its paces, but you do have an obligation to be responsible. There’s something much more exciting waiting up ahead anyway.

Your fingers glide over the garage keypad, and you’re welcomed home. But there’s this lingering sense of trepidation, because once the three of you walk through that door—you can only imagine what’s going to happen.

The top of the Maserati slides back in place, and you shut the engine off, handing Yujin the keys while you head to the opposite side, opening the door for her.

“Such a gentleman,” Yujin says as she takes your hand for assistance while stepping out, and she’s not nearly as drunk as you’ve been led to believe, especially walking in those heels. It’s more of this perfect buzz going on.

Wonyoung, however—is a different story. She makes a cute stumble upon exiting the car, nearly losing her balance, but you’re right there to catch her. “My hero.”

It’s more sarcastic than sincere, something you’ve grown accustomed to. But even under the influence of alcohol, Wonyoung remains more unreadable than ever, and she’s not ashamed to lean against the nearby cars for support until she’s regained her footing,

While you’re both trying not to laugh, Yujin slips her fingers between yours, guiding you towards the elevator with a lot more grace and dignity than the younger of the two for once. Following close behind, Wonyoung saunters into this small elevator with you and Yujin that seems like it takes forever to get to your apartment floor, letting the silence simmer. It’s unnatural for there to be this much quiet with these two, when they’ll make a comment about every little thing no matter how irrelevant, or mundane. The hum of the elevator ascending is the only noise that breaks the uncomfortable silence, but it’s anything but peace and quiet, and adds to the uncertainty. With every floor that passes, Yujin keeps her fingers interlocked with yours, her body close, and that demure smile lingering on her face. On the opposite end, there’s Wonyoung, who just stares blankly ahead, arms spread out while holding on to the guard rail, not a thought in that empty head.

As soon as the elevator dings, the doors swinging open spikes your nerves, but you can’t act on it when Yujin drags you along by the wrist, and you follow without question like a helpless puppy until faced with the front door of your apartment.

Yujin fumbles through her bag to find the keys, handicapped by alcohol for a moment. Wonyoung appears behind and watches her blind attempts to unlock the apartment, unable to put the key into the slot with one hand still locked in yours. All out of patience she intervenes, taking the keys from Yujin and opens the apartment door, demanding praise like she’s just won a gold medal.

“Brat. I almost had it,” Yujin says, more playful than venomous, as she’s got a little too much alcohol in her to be actually upset. You lock the door behind and turn on the entryway light as Yujin shuffles about, sitting her purse on a counter and kicking off her heels, abandoning them wherever they land. Her bare feet can breathe as she walks across the hardwood floor. Wonyoung, however has a little trouble slipping her heels off. She stumbles once again, much to Yujin’s delight, who can’t help but let out an obnoxious laugh.

You see, unlike Yujin, Wonyoung is prone to overdoing it, and she’s not the best at holding her alcohol. So after a few drinks, anything (or in this case two full glasses of wine) is more than enough to get her tipsy, get those carefully chosen words slurring.

“Should I carry you?” you tease, which garners no reaction other than Wonyoung’s ire, who balls up her fists at her sides, carefully stepping over her stilettos to not trip over them a second time.

“I’m not that drunk,” Wonyoung insists, but her body betrays her words when she can barely make it past the couch, and requires both you and Yujin to try wrangling her there. Even then, the poor girl still manages to fall over, taking you down to the cushions with her in this tumble that’s anything but elegant.

“Okay, maybe I am a little…”

Yujin covers her mouth, just in absolute stitches at the display, and no one laughs quite like her at someone else's expense. Poor, poor Wonyoung looks so embarrassed when you manhandle her enough to sit properly, keeping her on your lap as you hold her tiny waist to pull her together.

As you lean against the back couch cushions, there’s a flushed glow on Wonyoung’s face, both from the humiliation and the alcohol still doing its job, and it makes her look so extra adorable when she tries to hide her intoxication, a near impossible task at this point.

“Daddy,” Wonyoung says, trying not to slur her syllables as Yujin settles down on the cushions to your left, rearranging the pillows underneath her back as she plops down. “Daddy, daddy—“

“What is it, princess?"

There's an unmistakable twinkle in Wonyoung's eyes when she taps your shoulders with both palms, leaning in expectedly with her lips all puckered up. "Kiss me. I want a kiss, daddy."

Wonyoung looks like she’ll pout forever if you don’t oblige her request, and it’s such a polite demand, exempt from the usual brattiness that there isn’t a reason to say no. She isn’t left waiting. You seize her cute cheeks, kissing those full, plump lips as they part in an instant, letting you claim that pretty little mouth that still lingers with alcohol left behind. The girl practically melts at your touch, losing whatever sense of stability she has left when her fingers weave into your hair, and you can taste the sweetness on her tongue that feels like you’ll get drunk just from tasting her.

When the kiss gets broken, you see the hunger in those eyes—they want more, not just from you, but from the woman perched on the sidelines, silently watching you make out with Wonyoung, enjoying how this all slowly unravels.

And then Wonyoung gets greedy, because this kiss is far from over when she grabs your shirt, pulling you back in for more, tongues colliding as you let her take the lead, let her take whatever she wants. It’s not often she gets to take command like this (at least not without some barrage of whines), but it’s far too easy to get lost in those intoxicating lips, so you don’t dare disrupt her needs and let her determine when this kiss ends.

Yujin stays glued to the action, as she has a front row seat to watch this frantic liplock, and can’t say she’s not even a little bit jealous of how Wonyoung gets her tongue in your mouth. Inching closer, Yujin gets close enough to join if need be. And as Wonyoung lets you come up for air, all the attention gets turned towards her counterpart who has no intention of being left out.

“Now you,” Wonyoung says, this cute command while leaning out your lap to meet Yujin with a messy, drunken kiss, even more unrestrained, even more insatiable. You’re left as a lowly spectator now, but there’s little to complain about when you have these two incredibly gorgeous, equally intoxicated women kissing each other so lasciviously.

Naturally, Yujin takes over, despite the fact she didn’t initiate, and she’s just devouring this girl, plunging her tongue into Wonyoung’s needy mouth, pressing her lips deeper as Wonyoung nearly comes off your lap. There’s such an eagerness in the way their lips crash together, absolutely starved for one another, as Wonyoung succumbs to how Yujin’s mouth dominates her own, almost helpless in this state, letting her do whatever she pleases.

Your eyes don’t miss a moment, and how could they? You have these two just going at it, lips colliding into these hot, heavy kisses, acting like both have something to prove while you’re watching their sloppy makeout session. Yujin is anything but gentle while roaming Wonyoung’s tight little body, searching for any area of skin that hasn't been claimed, digging fingertips into bare flesh, doing what she can to get her more flustered.

And Wonyoung just loves this, she loves letting go of control, becoming this object to be fondled, this little plaything to be dominated. The more Yujin keeps her mouth on her, the more she lets out these heated moans, drowning in rich desire with no chance to hide her level of arousal.

“This—this is in the way,“ Yujin says, tugging at the hem of that cocktail dress, and she wants it out of the picture equally as much as you do. Wonyoung can’t agree more, and leans in close to plant her lips back on Yujin for one more sinful kiss while she unzips the back of her dress.

“Then why don’t you take it off me?”

Without any question, Yujin does just that, peeling Wonyoung off of your lap for a second so she can have unfettered access to her. There’s no time being squandered when Yujin finishes unzipping the back, and then she’s drifting two fingers down the spine of Wonyoung’s bare back, causing a light gasp that can’t be contained.

And when those straps fall down, Wonyoung gives this sly little grin, because she loves how you’re watching her get slowly undressed.

That gorgeous cocktail dress is the first casualty of the evening as Yujin gives it one little tug, and gravity does the rest, freeing Wonyoung of that expendable piece of fabric. The only thing left covering her slender frame is a skimpy matching set of white bra and panties that barely conceals that perfect, pale skin, all those exquisite curves, and that tight stomach that’s just begging to be licked.

“Look how pretty she looks, daddy,” Yujin says, and she runs her hands all over the curves of Wonyoung’s body, groping whatever creamy flesh is in reach, sinking her fingertips into those toned, worshipable abs.

“She’s fucking stunning,” you respond, and Wonyoung blushes at the praise, loving how two sets of eyes are focused on her that look over every little inch of her, every little detail on such a beautiful canvas that makes up her body. You don’t get enough occasions like this, where she gets to show off her figure, and Wonyoung is eating all this attention up,

“Can I take this off, princess?” Yujin asks, fingers playing with the clasp of her lace bra, and Wonyoung just nods in a way that’s pleading, like she wants to beg to be stripped but can’t quite get the words out. But of course, Yujin drags it out when she lowers those straps down slowly, painfully slow, one at a time, leaving a trail of kisses on her bare shoulders as she unfastens that bra and tosses it out of sight, unveiling that petite chest.

Wonyoung has such cute, perky breasts, with these pretty pink little nipples that Yujin can’t resist teasing with the pads of her fingers, and she knows how to get her all worked up. The lightest touch makes her nipples start to stiffen, using as little pressure as possible to circle them, not even enough to get any bliss to register.

Yet Wonyoung is losing it, leaning back as Yujin cups her bare breasts, toying with her body, testing to see what gets the most visceral reactions. For you, it’s hard not to pitch a tent in your slacks, growing so painfully erect the more Yujin toys with Wonyoung. These addictive little moans spill out as her nipples get pinched, played with, rolled between fingertips, and it’s no secret how sensitive that cute little chest can get. Yujin’s going to take full advantage of that.

Yujin continues to lavish Wonyoung with attention, taking the time to grope her body, to play with those pretty nipples. before her hands travel south. She slides down that toned abdomen, while placing these sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along Wonyoung’s neck, and then she presses two fingers against her clothed core—

“Please…” Wonyoung gasps, but Yujin is quick to ignore her whines, grabbing her hips, and slipping a finger between the waistband of her thong, the strap so thin you could snap it off by looking at it.

“Care to do the honors, daddy?” Yujin asks, looking at you with expectant eyes, almost ready to tear her panties to shreds if you take too long to answer. Even then, you let the question linger, while Wonyoung is basking in the attention, waiting with bated breath to get this last piece of clothing off her.

“Of course,” you say, not that there’s any other possible response when presented with a question like that. It's impossible for Wonyoung not to blush with how exposed she is in this moment, and that red hue on her cheeks deepens when you caress her creamy thighs, so silky smooth beneath your fingertips.

Before you drag those little panties down, you can’t help notice the small wet patch that stains the lacy fabric a shade darker, evidence of her arousal seeping through. And then it slips so easily off her hips, down to her ankles, exposing her pretty bare pussy, that perfect pink flesh all slick and glistening just for you.

“Come closer, princess.”

She can't obey your command fast enough, closing the gap until her thighs part on either side, giving you easy access to that beautiful bare cunt that’s begging to be touched, devoured, filled to the brim.

While you figure out what to do with her, Wonyoung stands on display as if she’s an exhibit of the perfect woman, naked, beautiful, and flawless from head to toe. You don’t make her wait for more attention, and give her tight stomach a trail of appreciative kisses, feeling the muscles flex underneath—and then you slip a finger inside that slick warmth, just burying yourself to the hilt in one go.

“D-daddy, fuck,” Wonyoung moans, as she tries her hardest to hold still while you slide a finger in and out of her pussy with these languish strokes, coating it in enough of her juices for you to lick clean.

“What should we do with you?”

In no time at all, Wonyoung becomes this needy thing, whimpering at just about anything as you pump a second finger inside, curling your digits to coax these pathetic little whines out.

“I’m not so sure she’s ready for that dick yet,” Yujin says, as she’s watching your fingers disappear inside Wonyoung, plunging them into her sweet depths, bringing them out dripping in her nectar.

"What do you think, princess? Does that pretty little pussy deserve this cock?" you ask, and Wonyoung moans in response when you keep hitting her sweet spot. It sends all kinds of satisfying shivers through her body—ones that make her squirm, because whether or not she’ll admit it, she enjoys being worked up like this, getting denied any real pleasure.

“Answer,” Yujin demands, and this time when you slip your fingers from that pretty cunt, you’re just stroking her wet folds, making Wonyoung stay empty with your refusal to get back in her until she gives a proper response.

“I want your cock, daddy," Wonyoung finally blurts out with shaky words. "Need it. Need your cock in me."

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Yujin says, tilting Wonyoung’s chin up to look her directly in the eyes. “Do you want daddy’s cock or not?”

There’s a defeated look in Wonyoung’s eyes, like she can’t believe she actually has to work for something, annoyed that she has to present a valid argument when her cunt aches desperately to be filled with something more than just your greedy fingers.

“Y-yes, I want daddy’s big cock. Please, I need it—please let me have it. Fuck me, use me, use my tight pussy. Doesn’t daddy wanna breed me?”

It’s playing dirty when Wonyoung dares to use that word, and she’s every bit shameless for doing so. You’re refusing to respond to that, and dip your fingers back in instead, cleaning them off with a messy slurp. You repeat this like clockwork, and get your fingers dripping with the honey between Wonyoung’s thighs, but it’s impossible to get enough of this taste.

When you look at Yujin, she’s got this look on her face like she’s not convinced—and to be perfectly honest, you aren’t either.

“Then prove it, princess,” Yujin says, leaning back on the couch cushions with her arms folded, tucking her legs underneath as she stares Wonyoung down. “Get on your knees like a good little slut. Show us what that pretty mouth can do.”

Without even taking a breath, Wonyoung gives a little nod as she follows orders, lowering to her knees. There’s all this eagerness in her eyes when she’s undoing your pants, fumbling with the zipper for a moment until she yanks your slacks down to your ankles.

“Good girl. Daddy has too many clothes on.” Yujin refuses to settle with the amount of clothing you have left on, and she does her part in undressing you. One by one, she loosens every button, kissing the parts of your chest that she exposes, lips following each undone button until your torso is bare and your shirt gets tossed away.

It’s so sudden, even a little surreal to have your two pretty roommates undress you. Yujin leans back in to kiss you. Her lips take a path somewhere in between this soft, tender embrace, and being downright animalistic, just shoving her tongue in your mouth without restraint. Meanwhile, Wonyoung isn't going to wait around, getting your boxers off your hips.

Yujin's no slouch either, vying for your attention by tracing a path along your chest, and she wanders one finger wherever it pleases. And then Wonyoung plants her plump lips on the underside of your shaft, hitting that sensitive spot that she knows so well now over and over, watching it throb each time her kisses linger.

“Hey…” Wonyoung whines, looking at Yujin as she explores your length, your shaft unable to escape those gloss-covered lips while they move down to your base, soft pecks all the way until she starts from the top once more. “You’re the only one still wearing clothes.”

For once, she has a point, and it’s not like Yujin can argue against the fact that her gorgeous white dress is the only thing not part of this ever-growing pile of clothes. You’re naked, Wonyoung is naked, so why shouldn’t she join the fun?

"Don't worry, princess. We can fix that real easy," Yujin responds. She’s been caught red-handed, and doesn’t hesitate to stand up so she can disrobe. It’s a striptease without the tease, as she slides the dress down her shoulders, only giving a you glance of the color of her bra for a moment—it’s black, sexy as can be, and gone before you know it, that small thong that you only get to see from the front following suit.

The room fills with stunned silence when Yujin gets equally nude as the two of you, just flaunting off that deadly figure that manifests how fit and toned she is, these never ending curves that give her such an unfair advantage.

“There, is that better?” Yujin asks with a giggle, and seeing her looking like that, just shamelessly naked as could be on the couch, is more than enough to steal all your entire attention away. Wandering that tight body with your eyes is the only response Yujin desires, because now your focus is torn, and it’s hard to do anything but just look like an idiot and stare.

Obviously, Wonyoung isn’t going to take that lightly. Not when she’s got your hard cock in her hand, giving these purposeful little strokes while leaving wet, hungry kisses on your swollen tip, displaying her adoration in the best way she can. Wonyoung needs your undivided attention more than ever, even if she has to fight for it. She does so well at it: she’s pressing these soft lips into every sensitive spot on your cock, licking where she’s left kisses, all that precum oozing out getting cleaned by her warm tongue.

Your eyes don’t know where to look, whether to stay focused on the vast nakedness of Yujin, or Wonyoung worshiping your cock, as she continues to tease, kissing up and down your length with those sultry lips that get so incredibly eager to please. Wonyoung tries to tear away your focus by slowly swirling her tongue around your tip, brushing across your slit that keeps releasing a steady stream of precum, making this sticky mess that she loves cleaning up, and then—

Those sexy lips part, and Wonyoung abruptly takes your cock inside her wet mouth. You groan, and your attention is all hers now, on how warm her pretty mouth feels, how soft those impatient lips are. This isn’t teasing, no, she’s getting straight to the point when she seals those lips around your shaft, sucking you off in this magical way that gets your cock nice and wet in an instant.

The girl just has a talent for this, she’s so goddamn ravenous, head bobbing up and down with all this fervor. The loud slurps she makes are so deliberate, and Wonyoung’s trying to draw the attention of the entire room.

“That looks like it feels good, daddy,” Yujin says, and of course it does, because a blowjob from Wonyoung is unlike anything else, the way those soft lips just take and take and take, without any remorse, swallowing you into her mouth, greedy for more.

“Y-yeah, it does. She’s good at this. You like sucking this cock, don’t you, princess?”

Wonyoung is a bit preoccupied to answer, but she makes your shaft disappear down her throat, taking you all the way down to the base as a response, and tries to hold you there for as long as she can—which admittedly isn’t that long, but you’ll give her points for trying. She makes another attempt, one that’s a bit more successful, but Wonyoung just doesn’t have the control over her gag reflex like Yujin does, even though she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm.

“Princess,” Yujin says, toeing the line on being condescending when she admonishes Wonyoung. “You’re being too hasty. Slow down, try to relax your throat.”

“I don’t need your help. I know how to deepthroat.”

“Is that why you’re gagging so much?”

“I’m gagging because daddy likes when I do that.”

“No, he likes it when he makes you gag. Right now, you’re sucking his dick like a virgin who’s never had anything down their throat. And you’re not even being that messy.”

“I’m just—taking my time. It’s called build up, but you wouldn’t know that since you just slobber on daddy’s dick the moment you get it in your mouth.”

You know what Yujin is doing, and it’s working so well. It’s doing wonders to light a fire under Wonyoung, because she works best when she gets all competitive, needs to prove her worth. Stubborn till the end, she tries it her way one more time, and when Wonyoung can’t go more than a few seconds without gagging, she pulls away, takes a long, deep breath, and then tries what Yujin suggests. Her lips make slow movements, settling in at one inch at a time, until she pushes deeper, little by little, making your girth gradually disappear between her lips.

“Breathe through your nose, princess. Take your time, and when you’re ready, all the way down your throat…”

You know there’s this huge part of Wonyoung that hates this, hates being instructed how to do something she’s perceived to be good at. But there’s no harm in learning, even as stubborn as she can be. So she comes up for air once, then goes back in, relaxing what she can, slowing her movements down, easing into it. The noises from her throat keep to a minimum, only slightly gagging on your length—

(A lot, actually, but it's okay, she’s still learning, even though she still wants to do things her way.)

There’s nothing but deep concentration in those eyes when her lips pull back, then goes back in for another run. She listens, takes it slow, and doesn’t rush things. Then her lips go down, far down, swallowing down your length, until without much effort she takes you all in, your entire shaft engulfed by those gorgeous lips.

Wonyoung stays like this—keeping her mouth still with those eyes looking right at you, like she’s desperate for your approval. Not a single sound leaves her throat, and there’s no urge to pull away. And then she does it all over again, without Yujin needing to utter a word, just taking these deep, deep plunges that keep you as far down in her throat as can be.

“See? There you go, princess. That’s our good girl,” Yujin says, with this satisfied smirk on her face, this look that’s proud as could be.

All that praise really gets Wonyoung going, as she’s got this new level of confidence, and she’s sucking your cock from base to tip without difficulty, like she never ever struggled with it before. And it just feels—so—good, the heat from her throat, the sensations from her lips as they slide across your entire cock, the way her tongue dances on the underside as that mouth presses into your balls when she swallows you whole.

There's no restraint when that wonderful mouth slides down to the hilt, holding it there to keep her throat all nice and full, taking such deep strokes that have you reeling. Your moans only feed her confidence, and now she’s just aching to prove herself, wants to keep all that praise coming, and there’s this nice sheen your cock gets covered in when Wonyoung pulls back up.

Yujin remains at your side the entire time, watching Wonyoung devote her mouth to your cock, and she’s getting so sloppy putting these new lessons to good use, drool spilling out the corners of her lips. “She’s good at this. If we’re not careful she’ll suck you dry.”

And she says that like it’s a problem. Maybe it is for Yujin, who wants to claim your first load, but given how fucking good Wonyoung is sucking your dick, there's no harm in giving her first dibs.

In the midst of this wet, messy blowjob, Yujin curls her toes against the outer side of your thigh, showing her intention to not stay idle for much longer. You accept that invitation for a distraction, grabbing one of her ankles, and start to plant little kisses on the ball of her foot, moving your lips to her pretty painted toes. A look of satisfaction washes over Yujin's face as she tilts her head back, because she doesn’t like to be neglected for too long.

It’s the best distraction you can have while Wonyoung just devours your cock, going all in from base to tip while your tongue slides against the curve of Yujin’s perfect feet, tracing the contours and peppering the soft skin in kisses. Once you’ve introduced your lips to every part, you get your lips wrapped around her big toe and suck, unable to hold back the loud, messy slurps you make while you slather it with saliva, as you proceed to suck the rest of her white-pedicured toes, one by one.

Yujin just basks in the warm bliss that spreads across her body, and closes her eyes, because she loves getting her toes sucked as much as you love getting them in your mouth. Leaning back, comfortable as ever, Yujin is losing herself in the moment as you’re worshiping her feet that deserve it, and it’s not lost on you that you must look as needy as Wonyoung does drooling between your legs. You don’t care, because having Yujin’s pretty little toes in your mouth while you’re getting the best head of your life, well, nothing could be better, you think.

You could just spend time doing this forever, kissing and licking your way through Yujin’s goddess feet, each pass of your tongue enough to make you salivate over these flawless arches, silky soles, and gorgeous painted toes. You have no restraint at a time like this, licking her feet with so much hunger, then the space between her toes, giving them another tongue bath, so you can taste every delicious inch that you can reach. Yujin runs the ball of her foot along your cheek, giggles when you eagerly drag your tongue between her toes, when you give those soft soles all sorts of messy kisses, and she’s almost enjoying your worship more than you, quiet little moans slipping out.

“Daddy—don’t you think it’s time I got a turn?” Yujin asks when she presses her foot against your face, then slides down to your lips so she can see how many toes you can take in your mouth.

You’re completely enamored in the taste of her feet, indulging in every mouthwatering inch, tongue desperately running along her arches, that you don’t even have a proper answer. Which works out, because Yujin doesn’t need one as she rests her saliva-covered feet in your lap, then uses them to push Wonyoung away, an emphatic, frustrated huff lets out as her work is interrupted.

“Hey!“ Wonyoung protests, with this indignant look on her face, the one you’ve all seen before, because she’s just had her favorite toy taken away. “I wasn’t done—give it back.”

Yujin keeps the younger girl from getting her mouth back on your cock, toying with her, which for a moment is of the utmost disappointment—until she uses those delicate feet to wrap around your length, leisurely jerking off your shaft with them. And fuck, it feels so goddamn good to have Yujin use her feet this way, rubbing her soles alongside your length, teasing your tip with her toes, all while this little greedy grin stays on her face.

“It’s only not polite to not share, princess,” Yujin says, and while it might not be the same as having those pouty lips drooling on your shaft, the way she just runs her toes over either side of your hard cock feels nothing short of orgasmic. Her smooth silky soles just squeeze with the most perfect amount of pressure, dragging all this pleasure out as she keeps your shaft between her delicate arches, pumping with all this delicious friction that makes you melt into the couch.

“How’s that, daddy? You like that?” You can only groan when Yujin asks, and she’ll take that as your answer, rolling her toes over your leaking cock. There's not a doubt in your mind she’s capable of making you cum just like this, that bravado plastered all over her face.

It’s not fair that Yujin’s an expert at every little thing she does, all so natural to her without any effort. There’s a cocky smile on her face that grows, knowing how much you’re enjoying the pleasure her feet give, and she loves the sounds you make while keeping this up. But of course, Wonyoung isn’t going to stay there and let Yujin have all the fun. That envy in her eyes reaches a breaking point.

Once Wonyoung rises, she takes a spot on your right side, returning the favor and pushes Yujin away, snatching up your cock. This greedy desire to one-up the older girl takes over, but Yujin isn’t sweating, because she wants to see where this is going.

“I can do this too,” Wonyoung says as her equally soft feet take over, mimicking Yujin, but it’s not quite the same—because she’s never done anything like this. It’s awkward at best, and your cock keeps slipping out of Wonyoung’s feet. As skilled as this girl is at oral, she simply can’t manage the proper position to do what Yujin has down to perfection.

“Are you sure?” Yujin says, and that teasing, it’s motivation for sure, but the more overzealous Wonyoung is, the more frustrated she gets.

Yujin watches with such amusement, unable to keep her laughter contained. The pout on Wonyoung’s lips just accentuates her frustration, clearly dismayed that she can’t figure this out. Wonyoung keeps failing at giving anything that resembles a proper footjob, and can’t seem to keep her feet on your cock long enough to give pleasure. And while Wonyoung isn’t the type to concede easily, she’d rather be back on her knees, lips sealed tight, drooling everywhere, and abandons the idea with this helpless little whine.

Without Yujin saying anything, her feet are right back on your cock, showing how it’s done. Using her toes, she gets this perfect grip on your shaft, then slips it between those velvety soles, pumping away, rubbing where it’ll make you moan the most, and doesn’t neglect your balls, applying careful pressure on them as well.

“God—that feels so good, so amazing, Yujin,” you groan, and you’re just throbbing with all this friction on your cock, all this softness surrounding you.

Through this all, Wonyoung has an annoyed look on her face (as per usual), unable to not let the jealousy shine through while she’s taking a backseat to Yujin expertly stroking your cock, working absolute magic on your cock with her toes, soles, and every other part of her perfect feet.

Maybe it’s pity, or how cute the pout on her face gets, but you can’t let Wonyoung get too starved for attention, because she did try her best. And she deserves some reward for that. So you’re not going to allow that leftover frustration to linger on her adorable face, and give her the same treatment as Yujin, pressing your lips into Wonyoung’s lovely feet, then slowly dragging your tongue along those soles, which are every bit as soft. There’s a ticklish sensation that soon dissipates, and then Wonyoung settles into every chaste kiss given to her milky feet, every long swipe of your tongue, until you slip those cute toes inside your mouth.

Her mood changes in a flash, and there's no frustration left, as Wonyoung can’t hide the enjoyment of you worshiping her feet this much, nor can she hide voicing the pleasure that you’re giving.

“Daddy’s good at that, isn’t he, princess?” Yujin asks, doing her share to pleasure your cock while your mouth doesn’t rest, licking the smooth soles of Wonyoung’s feet sensitive enough to draw all these sounds that are nothing but adorable. Because these two women, no, these two goddesses, it’s what they deserve, this total devotion to them.

“Y-yeah, he is,” Wonyoung murmurs, trying to remain composed while you suck on her delicate little toes, leaving sloppy, wet kisses in between—it’s more for your own needs of distraction from the way Yujin’s working your cock with her talented feet. Either way, you’re enjoying it regardless, kissing and licking all along the porcelain skin of Wonyoung’s princess feet.

It’s nothing but pure, concentrated bliss, all the while Yujin takes your cockhead between her toes, squeezing the most sensitive part, rubbing that underside—then she pulls away, kneels into the cushions to lean forward, and licks the length of your cock before she takes it into her mouth.

All this abrupt pleasure hits at once when Yujin consumes your cock whole, mouth descending straight to your base without a modicum of struggle. The heat from her mouth is overwhelming, and her lips wrap perfectly around your shaft, head bobbing at such an accelerated pace that has you moaning without any control left. As usual, her gaze is laced with lust, making all these filthy slurps when she fills her throat with cock, pulling back only to coat it with more spit. Then, she slowly eases her lips off your head until she goes back in, every last inch gobbled up, like she’s on a mission to prove her superiority in sucking cock.

"Oh my god, Yujin," you moan in ecstasy, because this girl is just a pro at taking it all down her throat with sheer hunger. She’s deepthroating you like a champ, bobbing her head in a blur, these sloppy passes that drip saliva down to your balls, and Wonyoung just looks on with her ego deflated, her pride shattered.

“You can help out, you know,” Yujin suggests, messy drool dripping down her chin as she keeps her lips tight around your cock, with her hands cradling your balls. Wonyoung hesitates for a moment, because she would much rather be the star of the show than share the spotlight, but eventually joins in, licking away at your sack while Yujin has your entire length in her mouth.

When the pair work together, the room gets filled with the sounds of sloppy slurps and hungry licks, two wonderful pairs of lips and tongues that no longer compete, but cooperate. Wonyoung gets her lips right on your balls, sucking them with so much vigor as she takes them one at a time, giving each individual attention until they’re covered in as much spit as your cock. Yujin keeps bobbing away, lips sliding from base to tip, then the reverse, these long strokes that have you groaning her name as you run fingers between her hair, the only thing you can do to find an anchor for this intense double blowjob that you never want to end.

“Fuck, there, like that, f-fuck—”

You can’t even say much more. Somehow, it keeps getting better, when these two put their competitive nature aside to share your cock between their perfect little mouths, taking turns so that each girls spends an equal amount of time licking your balls, sucking you off, wandering their warm, wet tongues everywhere to taste every part of you that’s there.

The next time Wonyoung gets you back in her mouth, she’s even greedier than usual, and you’re in such orgasmic bliss with these two treating your cock so well. You can’t imagine handling more of this—because each time her lips get wrapped around your shaft, it might be the last before you explode.

Yujin has no complaints about being delegated to keeping your balls wet, which causes Wonyoung to abandon all elegance, when this sloppy blowjob becomes difficult to endure, these wet lips really doing a number on you.

These pretty girls, they’re so methodical in their movements, licking all the right spots on your sensitive cockhead, keeping you on edge in anticipation of your next opportunity to stuff your length down their throat. They kiss with your shaft sandwiched between their lips, exchanging saliva as they do so, and it's so wet, messy, and full of nothing but unadulterated lust, this joint oral assault to encourage the inevitable.

It’s embarrassing how much you’re moaning, spilling those sounds out between your lips like these girls spilling drool, but who could blame you, when there’s a pretty naked girl on either side of you, stretched out, leaning over in your lap, swapping your cock between them. It’s an unforgettable image that has you at their mercy.

Everything builds into this culmination of bliss, the constant head bobbing, tongue lathering, these needy little cock kisses they plant on your shaft, and it’s beyond overwhelming to have your shaft get this much attention. Their mouths feel amazing in their own unique ways: the shape of their lips, their hot breath on your balls, the vigorous use of their tongues—one more lick is enough to send you to that impending release.

There’s no way to survive much longer.

“Shit, oh god,” you moan out, because you can’t handle all this stimulation, nor can you handle Wonyoung’s lips, or how Yujin slurps on your heavy balls, both caressing a thigh, sliding an extra finger down to your balls, whatever it takes to arrive at the finish line. You can’t think straight—not when Wonyoung stays down at your base, looking up ever so often with those doe eyes, nose pressing into your crotch. This indulgent mixture of sensations has you primed to erupt.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you blurt out, and those words come in a short breath with unbelievable bliss creeping into your voice. Neither of them seem too concerned by your announcement, no intention of slowing down as you approach your limit, and if anything, they ramp up the energy to speed this orgasm to its rightful conclusion.

“Think you can finish him off, princess?” asks Yujin, and Wonyoung gets this insulted look in her eyes when she glares daggers back.

“Better than you can.“

No more words get wasted, because Wonyoung is too dedicated to stuffing your cock down her greedy throat, earning every one of those twitches and throbs your shaft makes.

“We know you can, princess. Use that fucking throat to milk a nice, thick load out of daddy’s cock. You’ve earned that.“

There’s no stopping it. Wonyoung’s going to make you cum, no doubt, and you’re just savoring these last few moments, those wet, forceful slurps pleading for your load. Yujin squeezes your thigh to help draw it all out, and it’s just too impossible to hold out. One more stroke down to your base has you throbbing like crazy, and then you lock Wonyoung in, pressing her into your crotch while you cum down her throat, letting out these loud, desperate fucking groans—

And then you’re fervently unloading into her warm mouth, shooting out these massive spurts that fill her throat, and it’s the best reward you could give her. Wonyoung would never admit that it’s way more than she can handle, but that’s not going to stop you from pumping her throat with all your hot fucking seed, that load thick enough to choke on—but she’s taking it all so well, that pretty mouth a perfect vessel for this cum that she keeps milking all out.

“Don’t swallow yet,” Yujin commands, which is hard for Wonyoung to listen to, because there’s just so much cum that threatens to spill out between those messy red lips. In spite of that, you’re going to keep her still, making sure all your load finds its way down that throat, holding Wonyoung right there until it all starts to subside.

You know there’s nothing more they both want than to make damn sure you’re all good and emptied.

As the pleasure wanes, so does your harsh grip, and then Wonyoung pulls her lips off, which reveals your entire cock coated with messy saliva, strings of spit falling from the tip—marking the cushions.

The room falls silent as Wonyoung struggles to keep all that hot cum inside her mouth, because the temptation is sweeter than honey to just take it all down her stomach. But for a change, she’s obeying.

“Come here, princess,” Yujin says, and gestures the girl to lean her way, who does exactly so without complaint, eyes locked together. When she has Wonyoung at the perfect distance, Yujin pulls her into this obscene kiss as they share that warm mouthful of cum between their lips, swapping it, each equally greedy to take more than their share.

It’s erotic, a sight to behold, and while your high lingers, they have their playful, sloppy cum-kiss, the perfect way to end this opening climax. As their tongues stay in each other’s mouth, messy, glazed lips run with your thick cum that’s more than enough to keep you hard as a rock. It doesn’t matter who has most of the load anymore—all they care about is giving you a show, giving you this pornographic display that’s the perfect finale for this first chapter.

Neither of them ever takes the lead as they smack their cum-stained lips together, your load and their saliva mixing as one, in this absolute filthy display of gratitude that you couldn't tear your gaze away from even if you tried. When that heated kiss comes to a halt, there’s a collective grin on their lips as they both tilt their heads back, claiming their part of your seed before it fills the depths of their stomachs.

“Delicious,” Wonyoung says, while Yujin licks her lips in agreement. There’s one more lust-filled embrace, showing off empty tongues as they wander around in each other’s mouth, until they pull away and turn their attention towards you, sharing that same sense of mischievous intent.

“Not a bad little cocksucker, isn’t she, daddy?” Yujin asks, as Wonyoung runs her finger over her lips, making sure not a drop goes untasted. You’re still catching your breath as they both reach out to help you off the couch, heading towards the stairwell that leads toward the upper bedrooms.

“I’ve learned from the best.”

There’s not enough time to let that out of character compliment sink in as they both head up the stairs, leaving a trail of clothes behind as it gives one small opening to gawk at their flawless, naked bodies. Your ascent up the stairs doesn’t quite match their excitement, because you’re still recuperating, still in this post-orgasm bliss that has your legs feeling like jelly.

You saunter down the hallway with your steps light, one foot after the other, and it’s obvious which bedroom they’ve chosen. The door to yours is wide open, and the noises emanating from inside aren’t the least bit subtle. What you see when you head in doesn't leave much to the imagination; Wonyoung’s spread out in this obscene fashion on top of your bedspread, showing off that sinful figure, while Yujin lays on her stomach, head buried between those spread thighs, simply having her way with the girl’s drenched pussy.

It’s quite the shameless display to walk in on, and you feel like you’ve interrupted their fun, even if it’s your bed they’ve invaded—but a quick signal from Wonyoung’s long fingers erases that doubt, calling you over to join them.

“Started without me, huh?” you ask, as you climb onto the bed to get a closer view to the fun they’re having, this lewd display in front of you.

Yujin's unapologetic, effulgent smile is enough of an answer. She’s eating Wonyoung out with so much reckless abandon, her tongue buried inside that sweet little cunt. “Daddy took too long, and our princess here just tastes so fucking good.”

You can’t really blame her. You’d do the same. Wonyoung tastes like the best types of candy all rolled into one, such tangy, delectable sweetness that’s irresistible, impossible to get your mouth off her until you’ve made her cum six ways to Sunday.

And the way Wonyoung moans makes this even more arousing, these cute whimpers slipping out of her open lips, writhing in your sheets with each careful lick. Yujin’s not even going for the kill yet, shoving her tongue inside that needy hole as she takes it nice and slow, enjoying her pussy like fine wine. Now that you’ve joined, the slurps that fill the room get even louder, Yujin refusing to take a moment to breathe, lapping up Wonyoung’s delicious juices that soak her chin with just how wet that tasty pussy is.

“Fuck! You’re so good, so good at that, don’t stop, don’t stop, oh god, fuck, don’t stop—“

Yujin gets this insatiable look in her eyes, because she can eat pussy like nobody else, so effortlessly, like it’s her job. She knows Wonyoung’s body better than her own, knows all the right nerves to hit. With this insatiable need, she plays with Wonyoung’s swollen clit using short flicks of her tongue, both teasing and giving an overwhelming amount of pleasure, just driving the girl into an intoxicating state of bliss.

It’s fucking beautiful how sensitive Wonyoung gets in such a short span of time, and Yujin is utterly relentless, selfishly indulging herself in this shameless feast, sloppy as can be, dragging her tongue through every bit of that delicious cunt.

There’s precision in that tongue, and Yujin eats Wonyoung out like she wants to show off how fast she’ll make her cum, because it’s embarrassing how easy it is to turn the poor thing into a puddle. And when Yujin finds that sweet spot, she makes Wonyoung absolutely lose it, with her fingers all tangled in the sheets; makes her arch right off the mattress as that pretty face contorts in new unimaginable ways.

“Yu-ji—Yuj—fuck!” Wonyoung can’t even think of enough words to beg with, and her cries grow into these pathetic sobs, hips bucking on their own, as she’s trying to keep herself right on Yujin's lips. It’s quite unfair, that Yujin can turn either of you into a begging mess without trying, because her oral skills are next level, and the worst part is she knows how good she is and how easy she can make someone cum.

That arrogance grows, and Yujin is so enamored with the noises she gets Wonyoung to make, how easy it is to make her fall apart. Because she can pull back at any time, drunk on this power she holds over her that gives so many unfair advantages.

“What do you think, daddy?” Yujin asks, looking in your direction when she comes up to breathe, but doesn’t dare grant any respite, fingers frantically rubbing that throbbing little clit. “Should we let her cum?”

It’s devilish the way she asks, sinful the way she takes authority over Wonyoung’s desires—the prospect of denial a powerful high for her. There’s nothing better than seeing how Wonyoung gets such a pleading look in her eyes destined for tears, and you’re more than happy to watch Yujin edge the poor girl to oblivion. But you’ve also endured the worst of Yujin’s torturous ways too many times to count, so you know what it’s like to experience such agonizing desperation.

“Let her cum,” you say, while Yujin dives back in, licking Wonyoung’s pretty cunt with that skilled tongue that sends her flying down a path of delirium, falling apart realizing she won’t have to work for her climax. “She’s earned this one.”

Yujin can’t find any reasons to disagree, and rewards Wonyoung with such merciless slurps of her clit that’s going to have her making a mess in no time. It’s not often that Yujin doesn’t spend time playing with her food, but she’s so ruthless in her assault, because god, you know firsthand what that mouth can do to a person,

“You heard him, princess. Be a good girl and cum for us.”

There isn’t anything else that Wonyoung can do at this point, when her impending orgasm bubbles right under the surface. Yujin doesn't plan on slowing down her pace, giving it her all with nothing but unyielding strokes of her tongue, and works through every spot that gives the most priceless reactions.

“Y-Yujin, please, keep—fuck, please—“ It’s a mishmash of incoherence that Wonyoung can barely voice out, scrambling for anything in reach, the first thing she finds being your wrist as she pulls on it, her nails almost breaking the skin. Yujin makes a last ditch effort to draw out more whines, more of that sweet nectar, because she can’t get enough of how it spills onto her tongue while she licks Wonyoung just the right way, until her legs start to tremble, until she’s squirming without any self-control as she holds tight on your forearm. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, don’t—“

Wonyoung makes these breathless noises while her mouth hangs open, toes curling into the sheets—then she’s cumming on Yujin’s face without a shred of reluctance, making a total mess that she loves being responsible for. Yujin loves when she can get Wonyoung like this, get her face all covered in those delicious juices, but it’s not enough when she turns her into a shaky, uncontrollable wreck, so helplessly writhing in your sheets.

When Yujin doubles down without any warning, you can’t say you expected anything less. Her fingers get so deep in Wonyoung’s cunt that’s an utter wet mess, and you can just hear the squelch, how fucking drenched she is. That’s not enough for Yujin, who gets her mouth back on that oversensitive clit, lashing her tongue over the pink bud, all while frantically pumping away into her heat without any remorse, working both in tandem.

“No, s-stop, please—no more, I c-can’t—“ Wonyoung begs, her voice coming out strangled and weak, but Yujin ignores anything coming out of her lips as she works her fingers in a frenetic way, curling them inside knuckle deep.

“But you told me not to stop, didn’t you? Which is it, princess? Don’t you wanna cum again for us?” Uninterested in Wonyoung’s cries of protest, Yujin’s going to keep this train of overstimulation going, wringing another orgasm out of her—

And before you know it, she’s squirting all over your sheets, Yujin’s merciless fingers, and wherever else she’s allowed to.

Wonyoung’s overwhelmed to tears when she’s finishing out her second climax, but Yujin isn’t showing any intentions to stop, just ruining the poor thing to pieces, sending her through all these endless spasms that keep a smirk etched on her devilish lips.

It’s beyond evident Wonyoung can’t take it anymore, but that hasn’t stopped Yujin before. She’s intent on keeping those climaxes going by rubbing the poor girl’s sensitive clit in these unforgiving circles, staining your sheets with endless, violent gushes of squirt, like she’s getting off on how many times she can make Wonyoung get off. Only when she has her fill of sadistic pleasure does Yujin ease off, fingers absolutely drenched in arousal that she brings to her lips, making such a lewd display of cleaning them off before planting soft kisses on Wonyoung’s pussy that almost brings her to the brink of one more forceful climax.

“That’s our good girl,” Yujin says, climbing up Wonyoung's breathless form, and it finally seems like she’s done with her, stroking the pretty locks of her hair until the intense trembles start to dissipate, allowing some much needed rest.

Yujin’s attention snaps right back to you, which you’re happy to have, because that performance she’s been putting on has maintained your arousal, keeping all the blood rushing in your cock. “Daddy—“

That pause she takes makes you nervous. There’s such an overwhelming look of desire to have your cock buried deep in any part of her, getting the gears in your head turning, and there’s this mess of anticipation while you wait for what words come next.

“While our Wonyoungie rests…”

Again, there’s another moment of hesitation that makes your heart beat faster, and Yujin looks directly into your eyes in such an enticing way when she asks, ”How about you figure out how you want to fuck me?”

One of the things that you’ve come to appreciate about Yujin is how she doesn’t mince words: she’s every bit direct when offering herself up on a silver platter. The possibilities are endless, and with your imagination running wild, it’s nearly impossible to narrow it down to one.

“So, what will it be, daddy? Wanna get me on all fours? Or maybe I can ride you for a while, bounce on that thick cock until you cum. Any position you want—I can just lay here on the bed while you ram that cock in me. Whatever gets a load into me the fastest.”

All these options form this limitless menu that you could sort through forever, but deep down there’s one thing you really want, one thing that Wonyoung’s never even had before, that Yujin loves almost more than getting your cum in her, and it makes you stroke your cock just thinking about it.

“Fuck, I want your ass—wanna get you all stretched out, get my cock deep in you—want our little princess to watch me pound your tight little asshole.”

Yujin is delighted by your answer, and reaches into your nightstand drawer, pulling out a familiar bottle of lubricant (one that’s half empty, which reminds you to make a mental note to order a bigger bottle next time). Wonyoung’s still all but passed out in her haze, which works out just fine, because you won’t have any distractions to deal with.

The clear bottle gets put in your hands, and before you can open it, Yujin’s far too eager for her own good. “From behind?”

“Yeah, from behind.” It’s the classic choice, although while there’s some appeal in having her ride you with a dick in her ass, it doesn’t quite let you see all of Yujin as you would like, nor does it let you see how hard you’re going to make those cheeks bounce. Once the option gets finalized, Yujin shuffles into position and props herself right next to Wonyoung, balancing her knees into the mattress, while she leans forward on her forearms, palms flat on the sheets.

It’s quite a breathtaking view—it always is, all those voluptuous curves at your disposal when you find your place behind Yujin, palming those wide hips, and that juicy thick ass that you’re just moments away from filling all up.

Yujin’s a little more than impatient as you pop the top of the lube, spilling plenty of it right into her puckered hole, then fingering it all in. This part always gets you excited the most, feeling the heavenly tightness of her perfectly snug asshole, but you swear Yujin would rather skip the prep than waste time, as if anything other than a finger could fit in there unprepared.

Still, you don't deny yourself time to play with that hole, slipping a glistening finger in until it just about disappears, and even then it’s so suffocating around one digit, making you throb just thinking about how that same tightness will feel around your cock. After prying your finger out, Yujin is more than ready when she looks over her shoulder in anticipation, and you can’t help but give that thick ass a spank as you’re jerking lube into your cock, giving yourself some necessary relief at the same time.

Once Yujin is all good and prepped, you put one hand on her hip, and press the swollen head of your cock right against her asshole, taking your sweet time trying to enter. You hold your breath and savor the moment of trying to slide past that tense ring of muscle—even though Yujin’s an expert at taking a cock up her ass, you’ll have to show remarkable restraint, since no matter how much she relaxes, it’s just not going to go in right away.

“Fuck,” you groan out, prodding your cock at this tight barrier that feels like it’ll never give. ”Yujin, god—your asshole is just so fucking tight…”

It’s almost like a test, like Yujin wants you exhaustively overwhelmed before she’ll relax enough for you to slip in. But that’s all part of the fun, slowly working through the tight rim of her ass, that inviting stretch that never gets old, all the lube doing its part until somehow your cockhead slips in without much effort.

“Mm—daddy, more, need more…”

There’s not a hint of demand in Yujin’s tone, all this pure desire dripping like honey in her voice when she lets out all these tenuous whines. You’re not even an inch inside her ass, but it’s already too burdensome to slip more inside that hot little asshole. And yet, you can tell she just wants you to split her open.

“Daddy, come on. Need you, need you all in my ass. Don’t you wanna open me up?” And she asks that like you haven’t been trying your best, haven’t been fighting this uphill battle since you’ve lubed up your cock. Then there’s this moment—this fleeting moment where Yujin stops being all tense, where you can slide deeper, and the deeper you go, the less resistance you get, Yujin’s tight ass swallowing up more, inch by inch.

You’re almost to the hilt, and Yujin’s got clenched fistfuls of your sheets, uttering a gamut of whimpers as more of your cock disappears into her ass, absolutely driven to bottom her out.

"Just like that," Yujin tells you, like you’re already not being driven mad by how tight her asshole makes your cock feel, this intense suffocating grip that you just need a little more, just another inch or so to fill it all—

“You better not go easy on her.“

Lying on her side, Wonyoung’s gotten her energy back, and she’s just waiting for the show to start—this not so subtle reminder that she loves watching you two fuck. In typical fashion, she doesn’t want to be left out even if she’s not participating in this, and it gives you yet another excuse to not hold back.

“Oh, you’re awake. Just in time to watch how daddy’s going to stretch my ass.”

“I wasn’t—whatever, you better ruin that ass until she can’t walk,” Wonyoung says when she looks in your direction, and it’s funny how bossy she gets even in situations she’s not involved with.

“Don’t you worry. Daddy’s gonna destroy my asshole, isn’t that right?”

You don’t make any effort to answer a painfully obvious question, and instead pull your hips back to send your first swift stroke right into Yujin’s perfect ass, groaning for more. For now, you can’t quite thrust the way you like, the way Yujin wants you to, but you’ll get there soon enough as you start out slow and deliberate, moving your hips in short bursts of satisfaction. The more your dick slides in this slick little asshole, the more you open it right up, each thrust more greedy than the last, and Yujin is so eager to accept all of your length, just waiting for you to bury yourself in that thick ass.

“Its, fuck—it’s so big, daddy,” Yujin says, already falling apart by the time you manage the first thrust balls deep, and then you’re doing it again, then again, and again, your strokes beginning to deepen, your shaft disappearing in her ass with ease.

Now that you've conquered any leftover resistance, opened Yujin all the way up to accommodate your cock, nothing stands in the way from grabbing those sinful hips, holding her steady as you settle right into this quick, feverish rhythm, sliding into that tight asshole over and over, stuffing her full with your dick.

And you’re not the least bit gentle, gathering momentum as you plunge harder, your hips sending harsh slaps into the flesh of Yujin’s ass that jiggles with each thrust, driving you wild when you pump into her tight hole, fitting your cock all the way in. “Yujin—gonna fucking ruin this ass, gonna make this tight little hole mine.”

To prove your point, you slam your cock into her ass without a care, and it’s absolutely sinful how Yujin looks so needy like this, bent over in this obscene angle on her hands and knees that’s just begging you to give it to her without mercy.

Then as you dig fingers deeper into those hips, fucking Yujin nice and deep to oblige her desires, she’s pushing her body back onto you, getting you as deep as you’ll go while you pick up the pace with each subsequent thrust, until you’re pumping into her asshole in a rough, unforgiving rhythm that’s easy to get lost in.

“Daddy, your cock—it’s so perfect, please—just fuck me, my little asshole can handle it, just fucking pound me, show me how deep you can go,” Yujin says in between ragged breaths, as that ass relentlessly grips your shaft, refusing to release, claiming your cock for herself. It’s this breakneck pace that’s taking Yujin’s breath away, and she’s so content to be used like this, fists balled up in tight clenches while waiting for the next thrust.

“I don’t think you’re fucking her hard enough,” Wonyoung pipes in, getting a little too comfortable dictating on the sidelines. “I think she can handle more. Much more, come on, daddy, stretch her out with that big fucking cock.”

She’s not wrong—if Yujin is still coherent, then you haven’t done your job yet.

With every snap of your hips, those thick cheeks bounce hypnotically from the impact, and you want to keep that jiggle going, so you can't help give an open handed smack right on her round ass, relishing the startled gasp that leaves her lips when you do it once more.

“You can do better than that, can’t you, daddy? Smack that fat ass harder,” Wonyoung demands, and she’s pulling the strings a little too well for comfort. And yet—you’re inclined to follow those orders, so you smack Yujin’s ass again harder, much harder, leaving a reddening handprint on the flesh, taking in how it moves underneath your palm.

You can't help indulging yourself (and Wonyoung) with a few more, one after the other, spanking Yujin’s beautiful ass until the imprints overlap into this canvas of different shades.

"Harder, smack that fucking ass harder, daddy. Make it hurt, make it hurt so fucking good," Yujin pleas, and she’s too far gone in bliss, enjoying this role reversal that really gets you going, really gets your hips moving, because you’re just intent on dominating Yujin in ways you never have. It’s intoxicating, the power and leverage over her, just having your way with that tight impeccable body, and there’s nothing better than pounding her ass while you make those plump cheeks ripple.

It’s this perfect rhythm: a pop of your hips, a harsh thrust that hits balls deep in her asshole, then it’s followed by another smack on her ass—one that echoes, one that stings. Yujin just loves it, the pain that comes when your palm smacks that tender flesh, and the ripples never end, nor does the way her asshole clench tighter around your pistoning cock when you really give it to her like she deserves.

“This ass, Yujin, god—it just feels so fucking good,” you groan, and every time you smack that delicious flesh, Yujin lets out this delightful whine, each slap stinging more. “Do you know how much I love fucking your perfect little asshole?”

It’s rhetorical at best, but Yujin rolls her hips back into every stroke, trying to grant you even more access to wreck her ass, to get you somehow even deeper. Ever so often you catch yourself looking at Wonyoung for approval, your palm slapping with such impact that rips these helpless moans from Yujin’s throat. And then you fall in the same rhythm of your relentless thrusts, just pounding away like your hips move with a mind of their own.

Once you’ve found the perfect pace, there’s a countless number of marks all over Yujin’s ass, evidence of your handiwork that makes you grin at how red and tender those cheeks are. Your focus pivots into drilling Yujin’s stretched out hole at such a blistering pace that puts a grin on Wonyoung's oh so wicked lips.

Having control like this feels so unfamiliar, but you’ll savor every moment, as it’s not often Yujin gives it up so easily, just melting and letting herself get claimed like this. You get so greedy with your hips, driving yourself the hardest, deepest you can into her wrecked little hole that gapes on every thrust, fucking Yujin with all the force your hips can give, unwilling to slow down for anything.

“So good, daddy feels so fucking good, fuck—I love how you’re stretching out my asshole. Just ruin me, fucking ruin me, don’t stop fucking me like this, don’t fucking stop until I can feel your thick cum, fill my ass up, daddy.”

Yujin’s completely drunk on bliss, this absolute mess of euphoria that renders her nearly incomprehensible as she’s losing whatever leftover dominance lingers in her words.

“You heard her. Make sure she can’t fucking walk.” Wonyoung stares you into submission, as your thrusts get so reckless and beyond manageable. Yujin gets forced flat onto her stomach by your momentum, her legs flailing back helplessly and stretching out underneath your thighs until she’s lying prone on the sheets with her feet hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“There you go, much better. Pound her ass like a fucking whore, daddy,” Wonyoung says, the words that she’s spewing a complete 180, devoid of anything resembling elegance, and you’ve never been happier to obey them.

With your legs spread around either side of Yujin’s frame, you take greedy handfuls of those meaty cheeks for leverage, and ream into that poor asshole. Never do you break stride as you mercilessly fuck her into the mattress, drilling her ass in such a debaucherous fashion without remorse, testing the springs of your bed.

Yujin’s gotten so used to this treatment, eating it all up while she’s gotten so easy to defile, so easy for her greedy little asshole to devour your entire shaft, like it belongs there, like it has no plans on relinquishing that perfect grip.

And somehow, Yujin still feels so unimaginably tight despite everything you’ve done, despite how far you can bury your cock in that ruined hole. Maybe, you think, there’s some new angle you can hit, some new part of her that hasn’t been stretched out past its; you’re going to keep trying, going to keep destroying that ass and using her body until your cock can’t take it any longer.

“He’s fucking you so deep, isn’t he, Yujinnie? Getting that gaped little asshole ready for a huge fucking load?” You’ve gotten your fingers deep into the pillowy softness of Yujin’s ass, kneading at the delicate flesh that’s still all tender and red. Every word that escapes from Wonyoung spurs you on, urging your hips to keep this up as you work your way up Yujin’s sweaty back, snaking up her body until you reach those gorgeous messy locks that you’ve got your sights on.

And even before you get your fingers all tangled up, Yujin's chasing a final breath as you get more than a little familiar with each set of strands, grabbing deep handfuls to tug on. While Yujin can handle a rough fuck on any given day, pulling her hair like this does something extra to her, wrings out every little morsel of pleasure, makes her almost tear your sheets to shreds until she’s absolutely drooling into your mattress.

It’s then that Yujin makes these desperate, incoherent sounds that fuel your thrusts, equal parts wanton moans and whines, just all fucked out as she lies prone, embracing every forceful stroke into her ass, never ever satisfied enough.

“That’s my girl, that’s my Yujin, taking this dick so fucking well, aren’t you?” Her asshole feels so broken in by now, so accustomed to this ruthless approach of ramming your length in her, that it’s become second nature to take you so deep. There’s not a shred of mercy while you pull yourself into a squat, feet flat on the mattress, knees bent, as you absolutely drill Yujin, like she’s the most perfect toy made to take your cock.

“He’s really giving it to you, fucking you so hard and so deep. You like being daddy’s little fleshlight?” Wonyoung asks, with a no less than healthy dose of condescension in her tone as you keep Yujin pinned into the mattress, not giving her a moment to rest as you throw aside any last remnants of restraint and hammer that tight asshole with the only intention to fill it up to the brim.

“You’re just ruining daddy’s sheets, huh? And you’re just taking it all, every fucking inch, aren’t you? Fuck, your ass must feel so full of his dick right now.”

“Jealous?” Yujin asks, without even turning her head, and her voice sounds so strained, so blissed out. It isn't everyday she plays the part of submissive toy, letting you defile her body in such ways you’ve never been able to imagine as you pull on those soft strands of hair to angle her ass right for you to fit into. That warm asshole never disappoints, wrapped around you like a vice, and if you keep this up you might just—

“No, not even the littlest bit,” Wonyoung fires back, and she sounds rather insulted. “I’m just here to watch you get fucked like a good little toy, like the needy slut you are.”

As much as you’re enjoying this little back-and-forth, and as euphoric as it is to pound away at her gaped little hole, there’s so little you can do to resist your impending climax, because this isn’t sustainable, and you’re about to fucking explode inside Yujin.

"Y-you're—fuck—you’re so deep, so fucking deep. Daddy, give me that load, want it so bad—you’re gonna cum inside me, right? Want my asshole filled with all your hot cum, please—“

Yujin’s begging like her life depends on it, and it’s not like she can’t feel the twitches your cock makes whenever you get in balls deep, or how your breathing gets so erratic, like she doesn’t know you’re seconds away from throbbing to release.

You’re just counting the breaths left until you explode.

When your hands drop from those sweaty strands, you slide down her toned back, getting a good handful of ass to help smack right before the point of no return, plunging every last inch into Yujin in one last devastating thrust.

“Cum in her, fucking fill her little asshole,��� Wonyoung says, helping encourage your finale, doing her part to help drain your balls. “Wanna see you fuck a load into that pretty ass.”

Nothing you do could prevent otherwise, staying buried to the hilt while you bottom out one last time, until the tight clench of her puckered hole finishes the job. It's like there's a collective breath being let out as you start spilling into Yujin's asshole, all this hot cum filling her insides in these hot, powerful spurts that she’s milking all out, that make you groan when they shoot up from your tip into her ass, making violent throbs along with them.

There’s no better relief than this, having Wonyoung here while you flood Yujin’s wrecked hole up with cum, her walls somehow gripping tighter on your spurting cock as they urge every last drop out. Your thrusts keep every bit of strength as you spill and spill, lips kissing at the crook of Yujin’s neck so she can hear you moan directly in her ears. Yujin revels in hearing her own name when your climax keeps going, this euphoric feeling of being pumped full of warm seed invigorating her, and you know she can make a mess in your sheets from anal alone.

The bliss lasts forever—and even when you’re spent, exhausted almost beyond repair, you can’t stop moving your hips, fucking that load deeper inside her. All you want is to remain inside that heavenly ass, just stay nestled into that warm asshole for as long as possible, but Yujin’s writhing underneath you, ready to show off that thick dripping load.

Pulling out takes Herculean effort, but you want to enjoy the fruits of your labor, see how much cum Yujin has taken from you—what feels like the biggest load of your life. As you lament the loss of her tightness around you, the sight more than compensates. That gaping little hole oozes out an absolute mess, one spurt turning into several, this mesmerizing, pearlescent hot load that leaks from inside Yujin and carelessly falls onto your sheets like there won't be any end to it.

It’s a view that’ll be etched in your mind forever, Yujin in such a ruined state, spreading her cheeks to proudly display how gaped you’ve made her wrecked asshole as it leaks out your load in intermittent dribbles, and you wish you could rewind the clock and experience this all over again.

"Shit, Yujin," you whisper under your breath, not finding a better way to vocalize your raw euphoria, not even believing all this thick cum you managed to dump into her.

“Not bad, I guess,” Wonyoung says, always needing to have the final say—but she can only hide so much pretend apathy in her voice, scooting a little closer to get a proper view, and rests her hand on your back like a way of praising you for a job well done. She looks so pleased with herself, this devious smile on her lips like she’s going to take all the credit for your load leaking out of Yujin.

Before you can say anything in response, with little time to bask in the aftermath after you’ve slumped over besides Yujin, Wonyoung pulls your cock by the base closer to her mouth, taking that sensitive cockhead between those warm, plump lips and sucks what last bit of cum she can coax out.

“Fuck, hey—it’s sensitive,” you hiss in protest, but you know that doesn’t matter one bit to her. She’s learned from the master.

“I know. That’s the best part.”

Wonyoung starts sucking at the very tip, where the last remains of your essence are, sliding her lips down to your base in one fluid motion. Those lips are a blessing and a curse, so eager to clean your cock off, but it’s hard to enjoy the warmth of her mouth when you’re this fucking sensitive.

“If you want daddy’s cum so much, why don't you get over here and eat it out of my ass?" Yujin asks, in this absolute shameless way that is all the invitation she needs.

Wonyoung barely lets the words leave Yujin's mouth before dropping your cock with a greedy slurp, scrambling on the bed to position her lips so she can get a taste. Her tongue rolls out and licks up that spilled seed, hungrily lapping at Yujin's ravaged hole. There's not an ounce of timidness as she plunges in deep, tongue swirling around with intent to clean up every last bit of your load, sucking and licking it right out of Yujin’s asshole.

Yujin's clearly enjoying herself too, letting out little soft moans as Wonyoung gets her tongue buried inside that rim, lapping away, looking so desperate, so hungry.

“I think our princess really likes the taste of my ass,” Yujin teases, looking over her shoulder as Wonyoung works on cleaning her asshole. She’s long past gathering your cum out of it, just getting in there with that tongue as she takes the time to swirl around it, getting that puckered hole all nice and wet with saliva.

“Fuck, she’s almost as good at eating my ass as you are, daddy,” Yujin says, and you want to defend yourself, but you have no words. There’s no point in speaking when you can just watch Wonyoung tonguefuck Yujin’s asshole, spreading those cheeks as wide as they’ll go while she has all this urgency, her tongue getting so sloppy and invested with how the older girl tastes.

When she’s had her fill (which takes a while, because Wonyoung eats her ass like there wasn’t nearly enough cum to clean), you end up in this twisted pile of naked bodies, caught in the middle. While you lay there exhausted, catching your breath, you wonder how it got to this point—how you’ve spent more time inside these women in the past few days than you have inside a classroom.

You’re all due for a nice, long shower, but well—you know what happens in there when Yujin’s involved. Instead, you share lazy kisses with both girls, indulging the intimacy, and savoring the silence that sets in. Again. you wonder how you managed to be this lucky, how these perfect girls with these perfect bodies want to be here more than anywhere else, sprawled out in your sheets, with all these plentiful curves, like the concept of clothes never existed.

This all feels like a surreal dream that you’re scared to pinch yourself out of, scared that this blissful fantasy will get swallowed up in the ether, spitting you out alone in a cold, empty bed.

But it’s all very real.

The cute giggles they make, their radiant smiles, the tender kisses they keep peppering on your chest, neck, and everywhere they please, this innocent way they mark your body as theirs.

Nothing could be better than their impossibly warm bodies pressed close against your own as you share these quiet moments, where you could just lay here staring at them forever.

“We’re not done yet, are we?” Wonyoung asks, after what feels like hours have gone by, tracing circles along your arm as she cuddles you.

While the physical exhaustion has taken its toll, not every part of you is convinced you can't go again—but you’re more than content to just lay in this mess of limbs and never move again.

You look over at Wonyoung, then the clock on your nightstand, seeing that it’s not even close to midnight. With no classes to get in the way of the morning, your options seem limitless, and these two girls that are smothering you with affection, you know there’s no worries about their stamina.

“That all depends,” Yujin begins, caressing your cheek in this mindless matter as she nuzzles in closer, her hot breath on your neck that makes you sink into the sheets. “What do you think, daddy? Do you have another load in you?”

Just the thought of moving a muscle seems impossible, but you know this pair is just itching to deplete your reserves. “Dunno. I think I need a little convincing.”

✦ ✦

It turns out, both Wonyoung and Yujin, they’re very good at convincing you—with their mouths. A little diversion in the kitchen to down some water ends up with you sharing a tub of mint chocolate ice cream in the nude (of which is almost entirely eaten by Yujin and Wonyoung, but you'd never keep track).

Next thing you know, you’re gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, gazing down between your legs as these girls share your cock once more. And they put those ravenous lips to good use, a perfect combination of sloppy kisses and wet licks amid this strong suction that hollows out their cute cheeks.

This convincing technique, you find, is surprisingly effective, and you’ll say yes to just about anything at this stage to keep this messy blowjob going.

They could ask you to give them the sun, the moon, and the stars, and you’d oblige without hesitation, only to have their pillowy lips on your shaft, worshiping it with their slutty drooling mouths.

When this oral session shifts back to the living room, you’re the one who’s getting greedy, because hey, you’ve earned a little bit of self-indulgence. Wonyoung's upside-down, laying mostly on the couch as her head dangles off the edge, mouth full of your cock, while you fuck her throat in these unforgiving thrusts. Yujin’s got her hands preoccupied as well, not missing a chance to play with Wonyoung’s body, pinching a nipple here, sliding a finger or two in that wet cunt, or keeping a hand wrapped around her throat so she can feel your shaft bulging it.

If you were to describe Wonyoung’s current state, messy would be underselling it—she looks like a wreck, eyes starting to roll back from how deep you shove your cock down her throat, saliva spilling from those lips. Those perfect fucking lips were made for swallowing your cock balls deep.

Wonyoung might be choking on your cock a little more than usual, tears welling up at the corner of her eyes, and there’s just drool everywhere, but hey, what better way to practice than having you fuck her face upside-down?

Yujin’s there to guide her through it, offering the occasional encouragement with Wonyoung lying vertically, angled in just the right way that has you pounding into her throat without respite, defiling that face like her mouth is this pretty little toy designed to please you.

“That's a good fucking girl," Yujin tells her, and she knows the praise will only get Wonyoung more aroused—because her gurgles become louder, sloppier, lips pursing out when you just ram down her throat in merciless strokes, testing the absolute limits of her gag reflex.

"Look at you, princess, being such a good little fucktoy,” Yujin continues, while she keeps fingers gently wrapped around Wonyoung’s neck, not applying any pressure but feeling your thrusts, trying to gauge the outline of your cock within her throat. “That pretty mouth must be making daddy feel so fucking good.”

All that praise could get Wonyoung off almost as much as two fingers curled in her cunt, but all Yujin hears in response is a strained gurgle and more heavy gags as you hold your cock down her throat, watching how her dark mascara runs while your balls press against her nose.

Wonyoung struggles now more than ever, unable to maintain any semblance of composure, but you’re less concerned with fucking her face, and more interested in using her throat as as cocksleeve to keep your shaft warm. You take such long, selfish plunges, and just hold your cock there—your length stuffed deep down her throat until she gags. Then you pull out and shove yourself back in, repeating this brutal defilement of her face that makes you throb, makes Wonyoung drip between her thighs, makes Yujin proud to watch it all.

It’s messy, so fucking messy how Wonyoung’s gorgeous face can get borderline unrecognizable with how ruined her makeup is, drool spilling off her face to the carpet. That’s the best part, testing her, training her throat to take more of you. It feels like absolute fucking heaven to use her throat like this, but you can only withstand so much more of it.

“Daddy must be close. Princess, do you wanna have him bust all over that pretty face?” Wonyoung’s not in a position to answer, but everyone knows the response regardless. After one more thrust buried down her throat, you withdraw with these messy strings connecting your cock to her lips, and then you help her off the couch, get her kneeling right on the floor in front of you.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint not to explode in an instant—looking over this gorgeous mess of a girl that waits for you to make her even more of a mess, beautiful eyes pleading while you leisurely stroke your spit-drenched cock in front of her face.

“Daddy…” Wonyoung whines, and doesn’t even wipe any of the saliva that’s dripping from her face, letting it just run along her chin, down to her chest, her thighs and everywhere it wants. “Want you to blow a big fucking load on my face. Wanna be covered.”

Between those mascara smudged eyes, and the massive load you can feel churning in your balls, there couldn't be a more inviting target. Your grip gets tighter, fist coiled around your slick cock while you stroke at a maddening pace, and Wonyoung keeps her mouth hanging open, tongue out in preparation, as you give yourself a few final pumps, and then—

You cum hard with a violent groan, that milky white explosion coating Wonyoung’s face with the first big spurt, which makes her recoil at the volume of cum that hits her forehead and the bridge of her nose, trickling down towards her cheeks. You don't let her think too long, the next shot hitting her lips and her waiting tongue, and you keep blasting your load over that angelic face in an aimless direction, some ending up in her hair, others dripping down her chin.

You feel there’s no end to this as you unload on Wonyoung's face, covering those pristine features in such a thick massive load, painting her with hot white spurts that continue to blast out onto her cheeks, nose, and everywhere in between. Yujin watches it all inches away, how this hot, messy facial makes Wonyoung look even prettier, unable to stifle a laugh while she grins, because there isn’t a greater sight to her than your cum decorating that pristine face.

When it’s all over, Wonyoung basks in it, keeping her tongue out as the final spurts splash her, your heavy load dripping at a glacial pace. And it’s just absurd how good this girl looks covered in your cum, her face the absolute perfect canvas to be painted white.

“Messy little slut,” Yujin says, and there’s a unified laugh as the three of you savor the moment, what an absolute mess Wonyoung is.

✦ ✦

It goes without saying (or maybe someone should say it to her face), that Wonyoung’s a little too obsessed with her phone.

There’s hardly a moment when it’s not glued between her fingers, when she’s not throwing money at a new game (because it’s absolutely necessary that she has all the cute characters, like she’ll die without them). So it’s not surprising that Wonyoung needs to fetch her phone just to take a post-facial selfie, and still manages to make this cute expression through all the cum dripping down her face, tongue out, fingers in a v pose.

You’re sure Wonyoung’s already sent a copy to each of your phones, the perfect way to preserve such a filthy sight, because this little voyeur loves to keep evidence when the moment is right.

Not only is Wonyoung a natural in front of the camera, but she also excels at sending these naked selfies during all the wrong moments, (it’s like she knows the exact moment you step into a classroom full of people). And of course, she has a fondness when there’s someone (or herself) capturing her getting railed, so she can get off to it later when she doesn’t have class, when there’s nobody home to take care of her exhaustive needs.

You don’t get nearly enough time to enjoy your fresh load on Wonyoung’s ruined face before you’re dragged away by your aching cock towards the hallway. It’s the one that leads up to the stairwell, that’s got a full-length mirror that gets used by the girls to check themselves before heading out.

Before you can breathe, you’re pushed up against the opposite wall, where you can get a good view of Yujin’s delicious ass in the reflection. Yet, it’s hard to focus on those appetizing cheeks when she’s jerking your cock with an iron grip, as if she’s trying to stroke all the sensitivity out of it. Yujin gets a good rhythm going until she spins around on her heels, so you can get an up-close look at that perfect ass, and those absurdly thick thighs that have gone far too long without being wrapped around your head.

“Before we have our way with this naughty little princess, wanna have some fun with my thighs, daddy? I know how much you love them…”

The sultriness in Yujin’s voice causes your length to throb with need in her firm grasp, even after blowing such a huge load minutes before. You simply nod along to her little tease, taking in how beautiful her naked body is as she guides your hands to her hips, those insanely wide hips that you love squeezing, leaving marks on when you sink into the deepest parts of her from behind.

Being mentally prepared for what’s about to ensue does little, and you almost erupt again the instant Yujin squeezes her heavenly thighs together around your dick, that soft, inviting flesh snug around your length. The first few strokes of you fucking those glorious thighs are fast, greedy, and every bit desperate to keep your cock stimulated, to feel that silkiness of that bare flesh that hugs your length so well.

“Fuck…” you groan, because it feels too good not to voice your pleasure.

Wonyoung’s in the bathroom during all this, cleaning her face from the massive load you left on it, (and probably taking more cum-glazed selfies), when she comes back to the sight of you fucking Yujin’s delicious thighs in front of the mirror. Her throat’s still pretty raw from the pounding it just took, so Wonyoung leans up against the wall, keeping her eyes on how your cock slides through all this perfect, supple flesh that makes up Yujin’s thighs. All she can really do is let out an envious sigh.

Yujin’s bouncy thighs suffocate your throbbing cock, inching closer with each stroke, every needy thrust alongside her pink, dripping lips coating your trapped shaft with her nectar, and it feels as if you could erupt again any second from this relentless friction. You’ll stay in there until she can claim another load, until you’re moaning her name again, which may not be too long with how sensitive you are right now.

There’s nothing leaving your lips at this point, just tired moans when you’re watching this unfold through the mirror, how your cock gets wetter with every thrust, your fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her hips. It’s not quite as fulfilling as slamming into Yujin’s tight pussy or that asshole, but it’s enough of a delicate squeeze to get you moaning, get your precum leaking down those thighs, which is really all Yujin could ask for.

From Wonyoung’s perspective, all she can see is your tip frantically sliding through as you fuck these meaty thighs that surround your cock in so much flesh, and it’s hard to find any sort of rhythm when that familiar pressure catches you by surprise. “Yujin—“

One strained word and she knows, leading you closer towards the hallway mirror, until your tip almost touches the glass. It’s inevitable, when your cock gets squeezed this way by her juicy thighs, that you’re not lasting another minute.

Wonyoung looks on, but remains suspiciously silent when you give Yujin’s hips one more desperate squeeze, one more deep thrust between her thighs—and then you’re groaning her name on your lips, spraying the mirror with hot, sticky spurts that cling to the glass. Another thrust, and another shot of cum blasts the glass, and if you could crane your neck to see Wonyoung’s face you would see the jealousy etched, that she’s somehow envious of this inanimate object getting your load.

More thick streaks paint the glass, until your hips weaken, until your knees falter when you given all you’ve got, letting the final spurts all out, the tip of your cock kissing the cold mirror, an exclamation point on your hot, messy climax. When everything’s been exhausted from your balls, you slide out from those sticky thighs to observe how much of a mess you’ve made, so much cum pooling down that glass, staining it with your seed that trickles down all the way to the hardwood floor.

Wonyoung can’t take her eyes off all the thick cum that’s sprayed the hallway mirror, like she’ll do anything to taste it, which Yujin knows as she catches a fleeting glance, then gracefully sinks to her knees. “You can taste it when you’re the one who makes him cum.”

There’s no response but a pout. In that brief silence, Yujin slowly laps up the still warm, oozing semen, toying with it, sliding her tongue around the glass with these careful little licks to consume it all. You’ve never seen such a deflated look from Wonyoung, despite having the honors of earning your first shot of cum, she’s greedy for more, this insatiable, spoiled girl.

With one more long lick, Yujin cleans up your mess, until the mirror gets as spotless as it can be, and smiles at herself through the mirror before turning towards you both. She gets up, sucks it all down, and gives Wonyoung a kiss, who’s rather reluctant to return it given the emptiness of her mouth, but it’s at least this indirect way of getting to taste your cock, and Wonyoung would rather have that than nothing at all.

“Greedy little cumslut,” Wonyoung says, which surprises Yujin for a moment before she laughs it off while everyone exits the hallway.

✦ ✦

It’s midnight, or 2 am, you don’t even know anymore. The sun isn’t up which is all that matters, because the bedroom you're in (you’re pretty sure it’s Yujin’s but can’t quite remember) has the most beautiful view of the skyline via this large panoramic window with its curtains drawn back which lets the moon shine in. Wonyoung has had ample time to put on a fresh layer of makeup, and somehow you’ve all shared a shower without any incidents, mostly because you think Yujin’s got something devious cooked up.

When you're all settled in, Wonyoung is the only one dressed, wearing this gorgeous set of red lingerie with black stockings underneath a white silky robe, which answers why she took her sweet time in the bathroom getting all dolled up again.

Yujin quickly undoes the robe and casts it aside, leaving it crumpled on the floor as her hands roam over Wonyoung's divine body. It’s a whole ritual of admiration, how Yujin is bestowing the girl before you like this grandiose gift that’s been offered up, all adorned in lace, ribbons, and nylon, just waiting to be unwrapped. All this attention puts a shy smile on her face, because she can feel you undressing her with your eyes, and Yujin is not even remotely discreet, keeping those hands moving along her petite figure in an utterly shameless fashion.

Staying behind Wonyoung, Yujin gets all handsy, groping that tight body while she kisses the side of her delicate neck, then trails fingers down that toned abdomen, unsure of where they’ll stop. Surprisingly, Yujin is showing remarkable restraint—you know if she had her way, all that lace would be in a ripped pile on the floor, and she’d fuck Wonyoung to an early orgasm or two.

But so far, Yujin seems satisfied with merely appreciating her body, and honestly, so are you. It’s a decadent sight, how all that lace clings to her perky breasts, and you’re jealous of how Yujin has a much better view of her round ass. But the vantage point you have on the bed isn’t half bad, letting you take in those never-ending legs wrapped in enticing nylons, her body a true feast for your eyes.

“Our little princess looks so fucking sexy like this, doesn’t she, daddy?" Yujin asks, but Wonyoung keeps fidgeting from the delicate kisses placed all across her neck, unable to stay still, squirming as those hands graze all across her hot skin.

When Wonyoung looks this stunning, there's not much you can say in reply, that lace doing wonders for her body, and those stockings help accentuate her long legs just perfectly. She looks so ravishing, such a delectable treat you could eat all up. “Do you want him to fuck you? Do you want daddy to ruin that tight little cunt?”

These aren’t difficult questions, but Wonyoung still has trouble getting out a desperate nod. It’s not helping when Yujin brushes fingers over her breasts through the fabric of her bra, with taunting touches so light they can hardly be felt, just to get that anticipation going.

“Didn’t hear an answer, princess.”

Wonyoung seems like she’s forgotten what words are, too flustered from these grazes that have her biting her lip, and it’s only going to get harder for the poor girl. “Y-yes—“ she gasps out, this barely coherent syllable when Yujin starts to squeeze her breasts, getting those nipples nice and hard through her bra, awakening all that sensitivity.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear a thing, princess.” Yujin has this whole thing figured out, this meticulous plan to drive all the patience out of Wonyoung, stripping her defenses down like she plans on stripping those clothes off.

“I-I want daddy to fuck me—please. I want him so fucking bad, want daddy inside me right now—want his cum filling me up.”

“That all depends on you then,” Yujin says in a disapproving voice which gets this welling frustration forming onto Wonyoung’s pretty little face as she looks your way, like you’re going to help her out.

“Come here.” Yujin helps guide Wonyoung closer to the glass, pressing a hand against her stomach until she’s up against the windowsill. You can see the sparkle in Yujin’s eyes when she raises one of Wonyoung’s arms and binds her delicate wrist with a black strap that’s already attached to the corner of the window.

Before Wonyoung realizes what’s happening, the same happens on the opposite side, until those slender arms are tethered to each side of the window, and she’s locked in place.

Yujin never runs out of surprises.

You keep a careful eye on Wonyoung trapped against the window in such a vulnerable situation, but there’s not so much as a single whine, nor any form of complaint. Maybe it's due to her complete trust in Yujin, or the thrill of being so helpless—but most likely she’s learning that she won’t always get her way. Regardless, these restraints feel natural to her, and get a wetness going between her legs that’s going to ruin her panties.

But unsurprisingly, this isn’t all, and the second part of this surprise comes when Yujin grabs something out of the nearest drawer—a long, black strip of fabric that she dangles in the air enticingly until you realize what it is. It’s a silk blindfold, and it gets you out of your seat when Yujin offers it over to you. Looking in Wonyoung’s eyes for reassurance, you use it to cover them up, blocking her vision and leaving her in nothing but darkness.

It’s unexpected how Wonyoung never offers up any hesitation, showing her trust in you both implicitly when she leaves herself so exposed like this.

“If it gets to be too much, speak up, princess,” Yujin says, who still has her hands on Wonyoung’s stomach, the lack of vision making those touches that much more intense.

“Mhmm,” is all Wonyoung offers up, while Yujin leaves a trail of tender, warm kisses that start on her cheek and go all the way down to her exposed shoulder, traveling downwards.

When Yujin gestures over to you, suddenly there’s two pairs of hands on Wonyoung’s tight body, aimlessly wandering all over that slender frame in a coordinated effort of exploration—she wouldn’t even know which is which if not for how soft Yujin’s are in comparison.

On your part, you focus on Wonyoung’s lower half, on those luscious legs that have no business being so distracting, just running your fingers down one thigh, tracing the delicate material of her stockings with playful, light strokes.

It makes Wonyoung sigh so heavily, and then you plant these little kisses on her thighs, the parts that aren’t covered by stockings getting covered by your lips as you give both your devotion, only pulling away when you near her panties. In the meantime, Yujin pulls down the front of Wonyoung's lace bra to get her tits out, but that’s all the attention they get, fully on display without a single finger laid upon them. Yujin, you see, would prefer to pay special care to the less sensitive parts of Wonyoung's body, like those well-defined abs perfect for planting the gentlest of kisses along, making her squirm with affection that she can’t even see coming.

Your path soon diverts as you appreciate this work of art with Yujin, laying kisses against Wonyoung’s flat stomach, then licking it all up in greedy, long stripes. It says something that this is where you’ve made your centerpiece of worship, this girl that’s almost all legs, with so many other defining characteristics to her name. Yet, you can’t be torn away, working in unison with Yujin to cover Wonyoung’s bare stomach with all these hungry kisses and licks that drive her wild.

“P-please—“ Wonyoung stammers out, and you can’t stop the smile spreading across your lips from hearing her plead so soon, all this constant stimulation doing a number on her.

You can only imagine how this feels on her end, bound and blindfolded as these wet little licks and pronounced lip smacks graze her stomach, igniting the lust inside. As you’re left alone for a moment, you mark up all this delicate flesh on your own, until Yujin reappears with something in hand, something that you soon recognize as white and silicone, something that for sure is destined to go inside Wonyoung.

Not a word gets uttered when Yujin powers it on, and there’s a low hum that fills the room, instantly changing the atmosphere as Wonyoung makes a nervous gasp. She’s left in suspense for far too long, until Yujin brings the vibrator into contact with her skin, running it down the inside of her thigh for a pitiful few seconds.

It’s a shallow preview, nothing more than a sample of ecstasy that lingers when Yujin pulls it away. She then trails the toy up to Wonyoung’s stomach, making slow, meandering circles before bringing it to her nipples—first the left, then the right—neither getting the attention deserved, and then it’s off her body without a sound but the whine she makes.

Yujin lifts it up in the air just shy of her ear, this cruel way of taunting before it goes anywhere of note. “Remember the first time I made you cum with this?”

The memories come flooding back when those words get whispered into Wonyoung’s ear, and Yujin drags the toy down the side of her neck, every little vibration setting her nerves on fire. She’s so helpless like this, unable to move while shrouded in darkness, her senses heightened as Yujin presses the toy into every sensitive part on her body except where she needs it the most.

“And then you begged me to do it again. And again. And again. I made you squirt for the first time that night, didn’t I?” Yujin goes on, and she drops to her knees in front of Wonyoung as the toy wanders further and further south. It gets pressed up against the waistline of her panties, this flimsy little thing that could be torn to pieces in a light breeze. Then Yujin aims it right at her cunt, barely shielded by the barrier of those panties, and just holds it there—

Wonyoung trembles as a sharp jolt runs through her body, letting out the neediest whimpers of desperation when all that pressure is focused in just the right spot. Yujin eases the pleasure in, rubbing the toy around in tight little circles through those lace panties, getting Wonyoung all worked up, getting her to writhe against the window as she applies more pressure.

“Yujin, p-please, stop teasing. W-want that, want that inside me—f-fuck, I’ll be good! I’ll be your good girl, I promise!”

“But your promises don’t mean anything, princess,” Yujin says as Wonyoung struggles to find any friction through the thin material of her underwear, because she knows those words are empty, that she’s just saying what wants to be heard. One glimpse between her legs, and you can see how soaked those panties are, and it only gets worse when Yujin slides the intensity up.

Wonyoung lets a helpless gasp out, even as the toy refuses to linger in one spot, and instinctively pulls against the restraints on her wrists, desperate for any type of relief. Her whines get louder with every higher setting Yujin uses, until she’s borderline sobbing, that lace doing a poor job containing how soaked with arousal she is.

“Yujin, please—“ There’s so much shameless desperation in those pleas, and she can’t even finish the thought, because she’s just ruining those pretty panties, getting the fabric wetter by the second. Never does Yujin let Wonyoung settle into a comfortable rhythm, changing around the pressure, the intensity, careful to not let her fall into too much bliss.

Then it’s switched off, removed from her cunt, and all but forgotten.

“Please, n-no—need it, need you to fuck me with it. Yujin, please, u-unnie—“

“Unnie?” Yujin asks with this cute giggle, because Wonyoung only uses that word when she’s mocking her, or when she needs something bad enough. Standing up without saying anything else, Yujin gently strokes Wonyoung’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear that’s escaped underneath the blindfold.

“Hang in there, princess. Daddy’s gonna have fun with you now.”

The toy gets put in your hand, and you can see the white tip glistening wet as Yujin takes a seat on the bed, tagging herself out as she crosses her legs and settles in. Yujin doesn’t provide any other instructions, just an implication of your freedom to use this however you like—so long as the end result is Wonyoung left a total wreck.

“Oh, and daddy—“ she pauses, sitting comfortably into the mattress behind you. “Make sure she doesn’t cum. She doesn’t get to until your cock goes inside her.”

You almost feel bad—because Wonyoung’s going from one end of the spectrum to the other, overstimulation to denial. But ultimately, you know she can handle it, and this toy that holds all the power is going to be the catalyst behind all this fun.

You take a gander at the vibrator in your hand, inspecting its size and shape, the length, how it looks rather innocent with its neutral color, but that all changes when you switch it back on. It hums back to life, buzzing against your palm, and even on the lowest setting it’s rather intense, which has you understanding how it’s already done some damage against Wonyoung.

Turning it up to the highest setting gets to be far too intimidating for your liking, so you drop it back down a few notches before heading back over to Wonyoung, who hasn’t moved a muscle, hasn’t said a single word.

Her lips part ever so slightly, and her breathing quickens when the sound of the humming gets closer. Then you fall into Yujin’s position, getting on your knees, and press it right against those ruined panties. Wonyoung moans so pathetically at the first touch of contact, but you don’t even hold the toy long enough to tease, because you’ve got different plans.

As you pull away, your fingers slip into the waistband of her soaked panties, lingering for a moment until you tug them down those long legs of hers, and they hit the ground, pooling around her ankles.

“Much better. Your pussy is so pretty, princess.”

It’s a shame you can’t see her full reaction blindfolded, but with full access to Wonyoung’s wet little cunt, you guide the toy up the length of her slit to get it all nice and slick. With the merest hint of stimulation her body jerks, and when it vibrates against her sensitive clit, she can hardly stand still, that lithe body struggling to withstand the pleasure.

“Fuck, daddy!“

Unlike Yujin, you’re compelled to give Wonyoung exactly what she wants, at least in that moment. This sweet symphony Wonyoung makes when you hold the toy in place against her clit, all types of pitiful moans and needy gasps that escalate the longer the vibrations stay in place.

It’s tempting to go the Yujin route; tease the girl relentlessly, make her beg until she’s in tears, but you don’t have the patience for that, and you’re enjoying giving this modicum of pleasure that’s keeping Wonyoung so needy, unable to do anything but revel in it.

Little by little, you start to ease the toy inside, and Wonyoung tenses up, worried you’re going to slide out at the last second (and you’re still tempted to). But when the walls of her pussy spread apart, she takes the vibrator so effortlessly, muffling her relief behind all these moans.

“Is this what you need? To get your pretty little cunt fucked like this?” you ask, and it doesn’t take long to plunge this wet piece of silicone through the lips of her bare pussy, gradually building up a pace that’s guided by the slick juices dripping from her entrance.

“Y-yes, yes, daddy. Wanna be full, wanna be fucked like this, but your cock feels better, so much better…“ Wonyoung trails off, just gasping, moaning for more, falling apart at the seams.

“Don’t get greedy,” Yujin adds in, but that’s not going to deter her one bit, because even as she’s helplessly restrained like this, Wonyoung tries to grind against the toy, trying to get it to go deeper than you’ve allowed. And you’re enjoying this far too much to admonish her, so you just watch it disappear further, those pink, puffy lips engulfing the bright white shaft with little effort.

Any chance of Wonyoung articulating anything coherent escapes when you get the vibrator all inside her, and you pull it out slowly, before shoving it back in, doing the bare minimum of repetition that gets her all riled up, gets her shaking against the glass pane.

You get a nice rhythm going when plunging this toy into Wonyoung’s needy pussy in all the ways that she needs, but you have to be careful, because if it slides in just the right way she’ll cum before you know it, and she’s not going to bother warning you beforehand. During this all, her arousal gets your fingers so wet that you nearly drop the toy, but you don’t let it out of your grasp and keep it moving, keep parting those folds, and it’s again, a real shame you can’t see the frustration in her eyes.

Wonyoung is just so unapologetic about the way she needs more, begging for release that she needs more than air, like she’ll let you use her in a crowded room full of people if you just give her an orgasm, just one. But you keep it at bay and don’t dare give in to the temptation to just fuck her pretty cunt with this toy until she’s spilling all over the floor.

“What’s the matter, princess? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Yujin mocks, with this evil little laugh that gets drowned out by Wonyoung’s persistent whines while you’re making her ride that edge, keeping what she’s after just out of reach, with so many chances to reach the finish line only for it all to dissipate.

“Y-yes please, p-please, daddy, so close, I’m so fucking close—“

Wonyoung strains to do just about anything but moan at the toy shoved between her legs, imploring you to let her cum with every denial, and you realize why Yujin likes this, because taking control of her climaxes is orgasmic in itself.

One more close call brings one more set of whines, and you keep the toy buried deep within Wonyoung, allowing the vibrations to draw her desperately near, so near that she’s mindlessly tugging against the restraints, right on the brink of this seemingly unattainable goal.

“You think she’s ready to cum on your cock, daddy?”

You switch off the vibrator before uttering another word, and remove it from her pussy as Wonyoung nearly collapses from the loss of contact. When you hand it back to Yujin, it’s fucking drenched, dripping juices from every inch, this collection of all the evidence from how needy the poor girl is.

“I suppose so.”

Before Yujin takes off the blindfold, she makes Wonyoung suck the vibrator clean, tasting her own juices as if giving gratitude for all the pleasure she’s been granted.

“How do you taste, Wonyoungie?” Yujin asks as she removes the blindfold off her eyes, giving back the gift of vision and revealing tears that have formed behind the silk fabric. Next, the handcuffs get taken off, and her bra gets tossed to expose her body in its full splendor once more. Wonyoung has to be kept upright for a moment, legs barely able to hold all that weight after being pushed to the limit from so much stimulation.

“G-good. I taste good,” Wonyoung murmurs, still riding that edge of orgasm she hasn’t yet reached as she strives to cope with the overwhelming emptiness while she gets her senses back. During this little interlude, you survey the bedroom, taking note of the ruined panties that sit by Wonyoung’s feet, and this large armchair by the window that looks as good as any place to keep this going.

Once you settle into the chair, you join Yujin in staring Wonyoung down, the two of you watching this goddess of a girl breathe for a bit, hands folded in front. She’s silent, and antsy waiting for any type of command, wearing nothing else but that sexy set of stockings that‘s not going to come off.

“Come hop on this dick, princess. It's all yours."

Yujin gestures for her to join you, and the way Wonyoung approaches is almost cautious, like she’s going to have to go through another challenge before getting your dick in her cunt. But any apprehension gets cast aside when your legs spread in anticipation, and Wonyoung joins you on the plush seat, eyes full of need as she straddles you. Her stockings caress your thighs, but it’s nothing in comparison to the velvety softness of Wonyoung's skin beneath your fingertips as you trace the small of her back, and she shivers with every touch.

“Daddy…” Wonyoung starts, with a doe-eyed stare on her face as she wraps her fingers around your cock, and it’s just so hard in her hand as she gives these exploratory little pumps. With a pretense of modesty, she guides you between her legs, and struggles not to gasp at the sensation of your head pressing against her folds. “Didn’t you say this was going up my ass the next time you fucked me?”

You can’t hold back your laughter at that. “You remembered? Yeah, I did, but I’m gonna need to fill that pretty pussy first.”

A subtle nod later, and her full cheeks glow a pretty shade of red. Wonyoung stays quiet as she hovers right above your cock, nearly breathless before a single inch enters her. It’s her that’s doing the teasing now, rubbing your tip between her wet slit with this quiet little sigh that fades when she gets dangerously close to slipping you inside her.

“Hurry up and take that dick, princess,” Yujin says from her position on the bed, leaning back with her legs obscenely spread, with every intention to get off to Wonyoung riding you.

Unintentionally so, Wonyoung teases herself more than you, and she can’t fight this aching need to have you buried inside her—so she holds onto your shoulders, parting her soaking wet walls with your length. Her mouth falls open in a gasp, and despite only taking an inch or two, there’s this overwhelming tightness that makes you groan, makes your eyes seal shut to take it in.

Acting on impulse, Wonyoung sinks down more of your length before she needs to catch her breath, descending down your thick girth, little by little, just letting that tight warm hole stretch out wider and wider.

“Fuck,” she moans, throwing her head back, and even with how wet she is, how desperate she is to be filled to the hilt, it’s not the easiest thing to fit all of you in her. But that’s not going to stop her from trying, this stubborn girl sliding off your cock until there’s almost nothing left, then impaling herself down your base, nearly hilted in one go.

You have to ignore the temptation to grab those cheeks and slam every inch in. It’s not that she can’t take it, but she deserves to do this on her own, to savor the way she’s being spread open. After a few more tries, she gets a bit more daring, gets more adventurous with those hips, and starts to sink deeper with this sudden ferocity, groaning out of sheer relief when her greedy little cunt gets so close to taking everything she needs.

“Princess—“ There’s no patience left in your voice as she adjusts to your size. “Show me how much you want daddy’s cock.”

The anticipation lingers as Wonyoung holds her hips in the air, almost entirely unsheathed—and then slams back down, taking all your length into that intoxicating heat as you fill her up like nothing else can, until there’s no space left to fill.

“Oh my god, daddy—your fucking cock feels so good, so fucking big in my little pussy, I can barely take it all…”

Her hips aren’t even moving at all, and she’s just staying there seated on your cock, trying to accommodate all this thickness into her warm little hole. Whatever time she needs you’ll give, because you know when she starts bouncing on your shaft and gets those hips going, it’s going to feel like heaven, and there’s not going to be any stop to it.

“Take your time, princess. Just fuck yourself on me whenever you’re ready. You’ve been good for us, so you can cum as many times as you need—make a mess on daddy’s cock.”

It starts out with a subtle bounce of her hips, testing it all out, how Wonyoung can already feel you in her guts. Then she does it again, there’s minimal hesitation, getting all acclimated with the stretch that makes her clench around you, leaving this trail of slickness on your shaft that makes it even easier for her to slide back in.

While this goes on, you’re nestled comfortably into the armchair, letting Wonyoung set the pace, dictate exactly how much she wants to take inside that perfect cunt. It’s addictive, the way she stretches out and clenches around you, those pretty lips staying apart to get more erotic moans out as she lets more of your cock enter her at once.

“D-daddy, fuck,” Wonyoung whimpers when bringing her hips back down, almost bottoming out in succession as she finds this perfect rhythm to settle into, fucking herself on you without a care. “Your cock—“

She can’t quite get the right words out, but when she’s riding you like this, her hips do all the talking needed when she drops them, grinding with vigor, eager to extract the most pleasure from your cock that’s spreading her so wide.

“Feels better than a toy, doesn’t it?” you ask, and Wonyoung starts to put more urgency in her movements, taking these big bounces on your cock that has her moaning without restraint.

“It does,” Wonyoung says with a frantic nod, beads of sweat starting to form across that pretty face of hers as her hands find a resting place on the nape of your neck. “Not even the best toy can fill me with cum like daddy can.”

While her tight walls start to engulf more of you, there’s an immediate shift from this sweet, bashful girl, so eager to be fucked until she can’t think straight, to this brazen, cock hungry slut that’s obsessed with your dick, can’t think of anything else but when she’s going to cum.

Wonyoung just throws herself on you, riding your dick that feels so, so good inside her, swallowing up every inch with no intentions of letting anything escape. If she didn’t have some semblance of control, for sure, you’d be folding this girl in half, fucking her against a wall, or just plowing her into the sheets with your weight collapsed on top, making her absolutely scream.

Yet, for now, you’re enjoying this leisurely pace, that lets you savor Wonyoung’s tightness whenever she bottoms out, dripping out boundless amounts of arousal down your base. The best part is seeing the pleasure all over her face, these lewd expressions of hers that form when she hits the right angle, when your shaft keeps parting her slick folds and hits all those little sensitive nerves.

It’s a striking contrast between the two: Yujin gets so dominating from the get-go, taking what she wants, riding your cock with all this reckless abandon and complete disregard for anything but her own pleasure (usually with a hand around your throat). Then there’s Wonyoung at the opposite end of the spectrum, who’ll pretend to be dominant, but secretly just wants someone to have their way with her, mark all that porcelain skin up, and while it would pain her to admit it—she loves being absolutely ruined. l

Either option works for you, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t more drawn to Yujin’s more dominant nature. That doesn’t mean you aren’t enjoying Wonyoung falling apart, bit by bit, the way her pussy gets so impossibly wet, makes it so effortlessly to fuck herself on your dick.

And when Wonyoung gets more careless in her bounces, you get a firm hold on her slender waist, and dig your fingers into all that creamy flesh. Between all those pleased moans, there’s a familiar buzzing sound that remains out of sight that you can narrow down to a few feet in front of you—right between Yujin’s spread legs.

Somehow, despite the overwhelming sensations brought on by this warm, velvety cunt wrapped around your cock, you find enough willpower to tear your gaze over to where Yujin sits. She’s sprawled out on the edge of the mattress, teasing her clit with the vibrator that just wrecked Wonyoung, as if she’s trying to resist the urge to shove it all inside.

You lose eye contact with Yujin, as she’s only stolen your attention for a moment, and Wonyoung deserves it all with how well she’s riding you, putting all this energy into keeping herself nice and stretched out.

Yujin can’t take it much longer, this perfect view of her best friend getting split open by your cock, and teasing the arousal out of her pussy won't be enough. So she has to slip it inside, and a moan tumbles out when she shoves the toy all in. It’s this rare occasion where Yujin flips the script, becoming the voyeur, the one getting off to Wonyoung creaming on your dick.

What’s even better is how you can just sit back, enjoy this all, and appreciate every aspect of Wonyoung's body—how that warm cunt somehow gets tighter and tighter, thighs crashing against your own, those perky little tits putting in their best effort to bounce.

And now, she’s got the encouragement of Yujin in the background, the vibrator inside mimicking the intensity of Wonyoung's wild ride on your cock. They’re both in this trancelike state, with Wonyoung’s insatiable need to get you balls deep with every bounce that has your cock kissing her womb each time she buries you down to the hilt.

Her eagerness is what really gets you going, ignites all the twitches in your cock beyond control. You just have to explore that figure, groping whatever part of her you can get your hands on; fingers getting lost between the soft fabric of her stockings, down to the soles of her feet, massaging them enough to make her squirm, adding to the already constant moans that escape.

With both hands, you give a gentle slap to both round buttcheeks, then dip a fingertip into the arousal that drips down your length, coating it in the messy slickness that there’s no end to. The same finger grazes Wonyoung’s asshole, and you can tell by how much resistance there is even with your light teasing that nothing has ever been up there—something you’ll soon rectify.

“Daddy—“ Wonyoung gasps, and you can hardly slide a knuckle past that tight puckered hole, these light plunges giving the smallest taste of what her ass is going to take later.

“This is where I’m gonna fuck you next. Do you think you can handle it, princess?”

“Dunno. I don’t think you’ll fit…”

It does feel impossible to get into a hole like this, but you’ll do your damnedest to try—and you can only imagine how Wonyoung is going to look when you manage to fit your whole shaft in there.

“I’ll be gentle. Promise.”

She doesn’t doubt you for a second, because while her hips are bouncing up and down your shaft at an uncontrollable pace, you keep your finger teasing her snug asshole, easing her into the idea, letting her get used to being penetrated back there.

While it might be one little finger, Wonyoung can hardly take even that much, and the mere thought of anything thicker filling her ass up makes her cunt clench up in anticipation. That radiating smile soon takes over her features, replacing any leftover nervousness, because she knows you’ll guide her through it, and Yujin will be there right by her side.

“I need to hurry and make you cum then, daddy. I can’t wait to feel your thick cock in my ass.”

You give her another spank with the free hand that isn’t fingering her asshole, and it makes Wonyoung lean her head back, letting out this sinful gasp. She’s so utterly full when your finger tries to slip deeper inside her, that warm little cunt and the finger in her ass bringing all types of sensations she’s never felt before.

"You're gonna take it like the good girl you are," Yujin says with a breathy sigh, making the loudest moans that almost overpower the vibrator fucking her needy hole, and it’s impossible for you to not steal a glance. "Aren't you, princess?"

Yujin doesn't even need an answer to that, as she's just got that dazed look in her eyes while she fucks herself on this toy, trying to match the frantic pace that Wonyoung rides you in. It's mesmerizing, this chorus of moans that spills out, and Wonyoung just keeps tightening around your cock while your fingers keep playing with that puckered hole of hers, testing to see if you can even get an entire finger in (you can’t, and god, it’s going to be such a challenge getting even an inch of your cock in there).

"Fuck, just keep that up, keep riding that cock, princess,” Yujin groans, lost in all this combined pleasure that threatens to stain the carpet with the most powerful vibration the toy can offer. “Make yourself cum—then let daddy fill you up, pump all that thick cum in your pretty little pussy."

And while it feels like that finger might never fit in Wonyoung's ass, you ease out of it, get her to suck on it, to get that tight hole nice and wet as she coats it in her warm saliva. Sliding that finger back in gets easier, but this tight ring of muscle still shows so much more opposition as you try to work into this unexplored part of Wonyoung.

But she’s intent on relaxing through it, gasping when you finger her little asshole, and can’t think of anything else but being full of your hot load.

"Daddy, god, it feels so good," Wonyoung whimpers out, and all this stimulation is a lot to take, this foreign feeling of a finger in her ass combined by your cock splitting her open. Then, there’s Yujin, moaning up a storm, with her greedy cunt absolutely dripping down onto the carpet as she tries to match Wonyoung's pace, fucking herself with such urgency, and she can't seem to shut herself up.

“Make daddy cum, make him cum you little fucking slut, drain those heavy fucking balls like a good girl.“ It’s just the most absolute filth escaping Yujin’s lips, and it’s making you both absolutely lose it, wanting to blow this fucking load into Wonyoung more than ever that you might take matters into your own hands.

“Fuck—gonna cum on daddy’s big fucking cock, gonna make him breed me until that cum drips out of me. That’s what you want, right? I want you to breed me so fucking bad, just want your cum to fill this slutty little pussy up—“

All those words hold more power in them than Wonyoung knows, and it gets you sharing the responsibility, using your hips to impale your cock inside that needy cunt. You’re more than ready to unload inside her, to empty all this cum that makes her tight hole overflow, that’s going to spill wherever there isn’t room for.

When you up the aggression in this sudden shift, her petite little body just falls forward against your chest, and you knead those cheeks, spreading them apart to help your cock demolish that pussy. She’s so unbelievably tight as you’re pounding into her, slamming every throbbing inch into that heat that’s ready to take your load into her womb, because this is what she’s been dying for: to be fucked this hard, this rough.

“Daddy!”

Wonyoung clings to your body, and all she can do is hold on tight, burying her head into the crook of your neck as she gives herself wholly to lust while your cock keeps hammering into her sweet cunt. She’s so close to climax that she can taste it, and you’re not going to let up until she gets that and then some.

“Fuck, daddy, fuck, fuck!” Wonyoung cries out, her words muffled against your neck, and you keep bouncing her on your cock, sheathing your shaft into that heavenly warmth that gets tighter and tighter the closer she gets.

“Cum on his fucking cock, princess," Yujin demands, like it’s the one final thing she needs to finish herself off. “Show daddy how much you deserve that load filling up your cunt.”

You’re drilling Wonyoung like she’s begging you to, slamming her down to your base as you keep this rhythm up and take absolute control to impale every inch that’ll fit into her. The armchair meets the same fate as most furniture in the place does, getting all wet and sticky, covered in Wonyoung’s arousal as she tightens around you to an unimaginable extent. Powerless to fight back the inevitable, Wonyoung’s mouth hangs open so all the whimpers and moans get lost right in your ear as that desperate relief she’s been fighting for is within her grasp.

Her orgasm runs through her petite little frame, and then there’s all this wetness spreading everywhere that has Wonyoung shaking uncontrollably, being fucked to pieces and so overcome with relief that she’s cumming on your cock again within seconds, greedily taking as many orgasms as you’ll give her.

And when you're deep in this moment with Wonyoung, her whole body spasming as you pound her tight walls that only clench tighter, you barely notice the absence of that comforting buzz. This sudden rush of heat comes from out of nowhere, a warm tongue flicking against your balls, wrapping those full lips around them before dipping down to lick your asshole in such frantic, greedy swipes.

“Don’t mind me, daddy. Just keep going. Keep fucking this little slut until you’ve pumped her full of cum. I’m just here to help out.” If only you could see the look on Yujin’s face right now, because now that she’s left her position on the bed, you know there’s a massive wet spot that’s taken her place, all the signs of her greedy orgasms.

You didn’t exactly need the assistance, but you’re not going to complain.

The additional stimulation hits when you need it the most, because Yujin’s wet tongue against your asshole feels divine, and she gives these ravenous, wet licks that have you throbbing so violently inside Wonyoung. It doesn’t take your focus away, even as she buries her tongue right in your asshole, her sloppy licks giving one more push that’s going to have Wonyoung’s warm, wet pussy milk your heavy load right out of you any second.

This pressure keeps building and building, threatening to burst any second. All you need is one more moment to savor it before it all comes crashing down on you, Yujin going at your tight hole and Wonyoung making these blissful, drawn out moans, because she can’t stop cumming on your cock, can’t stop begging to be filled up.

Between some combination of the two, that hot little tongue and that wet pussy clinging to your cock, they both get you to explode so forcefully, flooding Wonyoung up with so much cum, more than you could ever imagine as you paint her insides a pearly white. There’s no end to it, all of this hot, sticky seed Wonyoung milks out, squeezing your shaft with those slippery walls as her sweaty body convulses against you as yet another orgasm rips through.

More of this viscous load fills Wonyoung to the brim, so much that it can’t all be contained, and leaks down to your balls. But Yujin’s right there to claim it, to make sure not a drop gets wasted. All these spurts, these hot streaks of cum that exit your balls fill Wonyoung up so well, that pretty pussy taking your load like it belongs in there.

Yujin’s hot tongue stays pressed to your balls, helping you extend that intense orgasm, stimulating whatever parts she can reach with such eagerness. Wonyoung’s in her own little world, grinding her pussy, trying to wring out all the cum from your balls, these girls are always working in tandem as Yujin helps lap up whatever escapes from that creamy cunt.

Those little licks on your balls get more sporadic to help ride out your high, and there’s already so much of your cum coating Wonyoung’s walls, leaking down your shaft. Yujin takes one more lick before rising, and she’s waiting for the rest of that thick load to spill out as Wonyoung lifts herself off your cock. That hot gushing cum flows from her pussy, all the way down to her stocking-clad thighs and onto the carpet below you, such a beautiful goddamn mess.

“Fuck, there's so much of it," Wonyoung says, out of breath, yet feeling so pumped full of cum that leaks out, and Yujin’s not even bothering to gather it up anymore, just amused by the spectacle of how much cum can fill that little pussy.

You keep your hands on Wonyoung, fingers spreading those cheeks so your load leaks out onto the floor, soaking her dark stockings that now have this distinct contrast against the creamy cum that coats them. When there's less of you seeping out of her, you lift her body off this ruined chair (another thing to add to the cleaning agenda), and hoist her in the air, kissing those tired lips while she wraps those arms around your neck.

“That’s my princess,” you say, licking the sweat off her neck as you traverse through all this wetness that’s spilled onto the sheets and carpet, laying Wonyoung down gently in a spot on the mattress that seems mostly free of Yujin’s messy fluids. Wonyoung lies back and takes a second to catch her breath, and you can’t help staring at her glistening body, as she gets that fluster on her cheeks again.

There’s no denying your interest to fuck another load into Wonyoung when she’s all spread out like this, get her in that mating press that she loves dearly and breed her again. If you didn’t need a moment to recover you’d do just that, but your reserves only have so much left, and there’s still one part of Wonyoung that hasn’t gotten your cock inside it—that waiting little asshole.

Yujin can barely contain her excitement when she lays down on the soft, cushy bed, resting her head on a pillow as her hand lazily strokes Wonyoung's body. Not even showing the least bit of exhaustion, she manages to lean in for a kiss, sharing her lips with Wonyoung who’s still getting her breath back under control.

"Do you think you can handle a cock inside your tight asshole, princess?" Yujin asks, getting straight to the point. “You’ll like it, I promise.” Those words don't come as much reassurance to Wonyoung as her eyes narrow in this adorable little worry when you caress her legs, a mess of fluids still clinging to her thighs.

“I’ll go nice and slow. Just let me know if something feels uncomfortable. You trust us, right?”

Without even a moment to think it over, Wonyoung nods, spreading those legs apart as best she can while you fish a bottle of lube out of the nightstand drawer. There’s still fresh cum leaking from her ravished pussy, and it keeps the arousal in you ignited as you snap open the bottle, slicking up a finger to spread the clear liquid against her little, mostly untouched asshole. It makes her gasp, the unfamiliar sensation as you slide this finger in and out of her puckered hole to properly prep her, quickly settling into what’s familiar, especially with Yujin showering her with kisses to ease the tension.

“Relax, Wonyoungie,” Yujin tells her, and you can’t tell if she’s impatient, nervous, or somewhere in between, but you’re pretty sure this has been on her mind the whole time since she’s asked about it. Wonyoung tries to stay relatively calm, but the finger you have in her unyielding hole can barely move, undeniable the resistance it brings.

“Princess, are you—“

“I’m ready,” Wonyoung cuts off, with eagerness written on her face, voice full of nothing but confidence. You have to make sure, because while Wonyoung is enjoying the finger slowly opening her ass up, having your cock up there is a whole different ball game.

“You sure?”

“Yes, daddy. Your cock. I want it in my asshole.”

That confidence remains strong, enough to convince you when your finger slips out of Wonyoung, and for good measure you add one more pump of lube to that hole, rubbing the leftover across your length.

"It’s going to feel so good. Just remember—relax,” Yujin says, with a reassuring look. Wonyoung needs it, and there’s a scrap of nervousness left, because while she’s good and ready for this, it’s still her first time, and her confidence only goes so far.

The heightened anticipation lingers in the air when you’re coating your cock for the second time tonight, but it has you painfully hard again at the prospect of just how good that little asshole is going to feel. Wonyoung has her eyes locked on the way you’re stroking your shaft, because she knows exactly where it’s going to go—but how it’s going to fit, neither of you can guess.

You take a moment to look into Wonyoung’s eyes for any trepidation, any last second hesitation when you line up your cock with her asshole. The look she gives back reflects your excitement, and she’s happy for you to claim her first time doing this.

A long, deep breath, and then you press your cockhead against Wonyoung’s puckered hole, easing into something so unfathomably tight. There’s little give, to no surprise, but it doesn’t feel impossible for you to go in her. It’s just going to take some extra work, you think, as you make painstakingly tiny, minuscule movements."

“Fuck…“ she breathes out, already overwhelmed by this newfound feeling of your cock in a place that’s never had anything there before. But there’s no discomfort, nothing but eyes that signal to keep this up, not more than a breathless look on Wonyoung’s face.

“Doing okay, princess?”

Wonyoung can’t quite tell if she likes this yet, but it seems so utterly preposterous that you’ll fit more of you inside this little hole.

“Yeah, I’m—it’s just so big,” she says, clenching the sheets in big fists, as Yujin caresses her body with gentle, relaxing strokes to try and get her to do just that—relax. “Don’t let me slow you down. I can take it, keep going.”

There’s not any reason to doubt her, so you take her word for it, and sink in a little deeper, that impossibly snug asshole relaxing enough to allow the tip of your cock inside. Calling this a tight fit would be an understatement, and the lack of movement you have right now is just absurd. Once you manage to get your cockhead past that rim, it starts to kick in what a struggle this is going to be.

“God, princess—your asshole is too fucking tight,” you groan, just weighed down by how limited you can thrust inside this hole, desperately attempting to slide in another inch. Not much else can be said but the obvious at this point, and as much as you’re dying to just ram into her, you’ve got to keep this patience up, because sooner or later that resistance is going to dissipate.

“Breathe,” Yujin reminds her, and it makes Wonyoung’s muscles relax enough for you to get through this impasse, to slide in past the head and then some, a monumental effort in itself. The tightness that engulfs your cock is secondary, because you’re watching Wonyoung react to it all, hoping to keep up the pleasure on her face the deeper you get.

And when you can see these little moans forming as she gets more used to this, gets used to being more stretched out, you persist, gradually sliding more of your shaft in her ass. Soon, you’ve got almost half your length in her as you’re fighting all this burgeoning pressure that prevents you from getting too greedy, a constant reminder that this isn’t Yujin who can take a jackhammering in her ass like it’s nothing.

But it’s not half bad taking this slow path, letting her asshole swallow up more of your cock whenever you withdraw. It’s just going to make the wait worth it when you can fuck her back entrance without struggle.

“Look at you, princess. Taking daddy’s cock up your ass like such a good girl,” Yujin says, planting little kisses on her other half’s collarbone, constantly finding a distraction for her. “You look like you like it.”

Wonyoung’s too embarrassed to admit, that yes, she loves this new feeling of something big filling her ass, making her feel all types of full. It’s still hard to believe how much of you can fit in this tight little asshole, but she’s relaxing, taking deep enough breaths that allow more of your cock, and before long you’ll be able to begin making shallow, tentative thrusts.

“This, this feels really good,” Wonyoung moans, as she’s been opened up enough that you can finally move your hips and fuck her asshole in earnest, stretching it out more to take you all in. “Doesn’t it feel good, daddy?”

Nothing has ever felt better, and you can barely voice your pleasure when you’re plunging into her hot tightness that’s ready for more. You grab her narrow waist and start your ascent the same way, nice and slow, careful not to go too fast or deep before pulling back out.

“Yeah, princess. You feel fucking amazing.”

Wonyoung has this intense tightness that you’ve never felt before, her hot little asshole accepting your cock into new depths a little easier each time. You’re nowhere near balls deep, but it’s enough to make her moan the more you work yourself in, becoming more full after each thrust.

“Daddy, fuck me, fuck me and get me all stretched out,” Wonyoung says, and you’re not going to disappoint, not when she’s so ready to take more than shallow pumps. So you fuck her with full, deep strokes that fits all of you in her asshole, this incredible tightness making you throb when you bottom out.

“I knew you would like it,” Yujin says, and she’s leaning over to lazily play with one of Wonyoung’s breasts, giving this half-squeeze while you’re showing her asshole less restraint. Wonyoung hates this playful tone Yujin uses on her, even if she knows she’s right, that she was destined to enjoy this from the start. It makes her clench up even tighter, the chokehold she gets your cock in only encouraging your hips to move faster.

“Daddy—oh fuck daddy, your cock feels so good. H-harder, fuck my tight asshole harder, oh god—please!” Wonyoung stammers between all these little gasps and moans, and she’s taking your cock up her ass like a natural, opening up so much that it barely resembles her first time.

Then your grip on her tiny waist gets tighter, like you don’t care if you’ll leave bruises behind, because all you can think about is how good it feels to slide your cock into this asshole unabated after all this effort you’ve put in. You’re in deeper with every stroke, stretching this impossibly tight hole that deserves it, and Wonyoung takes it with nothing but bliss in her eyes, nothing but these endless moans.

“She’s taking you so well,” Yujin says, still mindlessly teasing one of Wonyoung’s nipples, the distraction less and less necessary the more thrusts that get in her. “Who knew our princess liked it up the ass so much? Our little anal slut must be making your cock feel so good.”

“Yeah, just like you,” you say, and Yujin’s not even one bit offended, considering it feels like she likes getting her ass wrecked more than you do on some days.

“Just like me.”

It’s a title Yujin has earned, since she’s taken your cock in her ass in so many locations in and around campus, not to mention countless bathrooms, parks, and her favorite, the racquetball court at the student recreation center after class.

But at this rate Wonyoung might rival her soon, given that her asshole is taking your cock like a pro, because this girl has to prove how good she is at everything, even something that’s her first time. The superior tightness of her ass competes with Yujin, and even surpasses that pretty cunt that you just dumped a load in. She looks so blissed out, fully adjusted to how much her asshole is being stretched.

With every deep impale Wonyoung craves more, begging to get fucked just like Yujin does, and maybe you’ll let her get to that point. But for now, you’re not about to rush it, not when it feels so good to have your cock suffocated by all this immense pressure, and this view you get of Wonyoung beneath you, all spread out, clinging onto the sheets.

Even Yujin herself gets her own pleasure out of it, as her fingers sneak away from Wonyoung and work over her clit, playing with herself as your cock slams inside this tight ass over and over, harder and deeper every time.

"It's so fucking big," Wonyoung says, and her eyes are shut in concentration, so utterly lost in the feeling of your huge cock in her ass. “I can feel daddy so deep. It’s all the way in, daddy’s all the way in my little asshole.”

Wonyoung says it in this way like she can’t believe it, can’t believe she’s been stretched this much to take it all. The satisfaction of bottoming her out, it’s so pleasurable that you can’t help but prolong your movements while you let your cock rest, whenever you’re buried balls fucking deep in her ass before you move back out to do it all again.

"I think daddy likes your little asshole," Yujin says, looking pleased as ever at her remark. "Don't you, daddy?"

“Fuck yes,” you reply, and it's nearly impossible to pay attention to what she’s asking when you’re slamming into Wonyoung without pause. “This tight fucking asshole is perfect.”

You’re finally at the point where you can just ram your cock into her ass, taking these long, greedy strokes to the hilt that leave Wonyoung whimpering and moaning for more. It’s quite contrary to the start, where you could barely fit the tip of your cock in her, before she even knew how much she liked having your cock up her asshole.

And it's all so good to Yujin, who treats herself to two more orgasms before you fill Wonyoung up again. She's gone from barely hanging in there to in utter pleasure dominating her body. In the moment, her legs look so enticing, and you think there's a better position for them as you lift them up to rest on your shoulders, knees up to her chest, while you fold the girl like a piece of furniture.

“Oh fuck, daddy!” Wonyoung cries out, and the new angle lets you get in even deeper, plunging your cock so far inside her incredible warm asshole. You can’t even comprehend how tight she still feels; even at this stage, how your cock just gets choked by this surreal tightness that never falters, never lets up or relinquishes your throbbing shaft.

You’re not even bothering to watch Yujin fuck herself into her next orgasm, with your focus all on plowing Wonyoung, this tight little ring that’s swallowing you up to the base of your shaft without trouble, demanding to be gaped to its limits.

Then you’re falling into familiarity, kissing those pretty feet through her stockings while they hang over your shoulders, because it’s you who needs the distraction as you’re bound for another orgasm that’s approaching sooner than you’d like. Maybe you could hold out longer, take a break to eat Yujin out so she doesn’t have to make herself cum, but that would require pulling out of this delicious ass—and that’s not going to happen.

So, without any consideration for anything but your own selfish pleasure, you pound that asshole as best you can in this position, keeping your lips on the soft arches of her feet to keep the distraction going, and it’s just sinful how deep you’re fucking her. You won’t last, not with her insides trying to squeeze a thick load out of your balls, but you're going to keep this rhythm up, and you’re going keep that asshole stuffed with cock until the end.

In the meantime, Yujin’s had enough of fingering herself to orgasm for the time being, and she turns over on her side, to get the best view she can get.

“Are you going to cum in her?” she asks, just following your cock, watching how every inch disappears inside Wonyoung’s ass, and it takes a surplus of restraint to even answer without blowing your load early.

“Haven’t thought about it yet.”

It’s the truth, and since you've already pumped a load down her throat and another in her pussy, you could go for the hat trick. An enticing prospect, no doubt, and yet, the way that Yujin’s dragging her finger alongside Wonyoung’s flat stomach gives you second thoughts.

“Such a nice little body…" Yujin says, and she’s doing a lot more than just caressing this smooth porcelain skin, dropping a not so subtle hint where she’d like to direct your load. And you can already imagine it all, this sticky pool of white spilling over that flawless stomach, those cute tits, maybe even up to her neck, just glazing her body in copious amounts of you.

The mental image is enough to bring you closer, a constant struggle to contain it all the more you plunge your cock into Wonyoung’s ungodly tight asshole. You’re all sorts of ready to blow now, and Yujin might get her wish, but for that to happen, you'd have to pull out—an absurd demand to ask of yourself. Yet the visualization gets you so worked up, and you have no plans of letting this thought remain confined to your mind, pausing to drop Wonyoung’s legs perched on your shoulders.

Yujin places a firm hand on her stomach, and grazes her fingers along every bit of those toned abs as you let your impulses take over, pistoning your hips for just a while longer, until the last possible moment—

Then somehow, someway, you pull your cock out from Wonyoung’s asshole, where you look down to marvel at the gape left behind. And before you can even bring yourself to climax, Yujin snatches your shaft with a grip almost as tight and relentless as that puckered hole you’ve left all stretched out.

With a burning desire to finish you off herself, Yujin pumps your swollen head in her fist with strokes so frantic that it takes under a handful of seconds to empty your balls across this beautiful canvas. Thick white strands splatter in these violent throbs all over Wonyoung’s tight creamy stomach, shooting all the way up to her perky breasts as you glaze her decadent body in your warm sticky seed.

You’ve lost count of what number load this is, but it’s not any weaker than all the ones preceding it, Yujin milking it all out to decorate Wonyoung, looking up in between pumps with a small, self-satisfied smirk as your cock just erupts and erupts.

“Fuck, it’s so, so warm, it feels so good when you cum all over me, daddy,” Wonyoung says, in between tired heavy breaths that has her small chest heaving, her little mouth wide open. Yujin can’t help but indulge in this treat you’ve created, tongue dragging up against those abs to collect a creamy streak, leaving the rest of it to glisten over her roommate’s sweaty body.

All you can do is revel in the experience and admire Wonyoung's cum-splattered body, in awe how your load has painted her, basking in the aftermath of this intense, messy orgasm.

As you collapse onto one side of Wonyoung, Yujin takes her place on the other, and you’re all spent, out of breath, with this intense high still tearing through your body. And then there’s a silence that’s only interrupted by heavy breaths, as Yujin trails her fingers against Wonyoung’s sticky cum-covered stomach, pressing little kisses into her flushed skin.

“Is our princess doing okay?” Yujin asks a sudden question that elicits no reaction whatsoever from Wonyoung. She seems pretty knocked out at this point, but despite that, her eyes stay open and fixated on Yujin.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. What, did you think I couldn’t handle that?” she replies, the remnants of that arrogance coming all back out.

Yujin chuckles, amused by the nonchalant nature of that response. "Don't act like it was nothing, I saw how much you enjoyed it, the way you were moaning like a—"

“Hey! It’s only because daddy fucked my ass better than he does yours…”

“Is that so?” Yujin asks, taking the bait without even realizing. It’s funny how fast Wonyoung can fall back into that bratty persona, that demeanor returned like it never left even after she’s had her ass reamed. There’s not enough energy between the two to keep this competition going, which works just fine because you’re on the verge of passing out.

You definitely don’t think you can move after this.

✦ ✦

It’s past noon when you wake up again. You assume it’s the next day, but it could be the next week from how long you’ve been out. And you don’t even remember where your clothes are. The last thing you remember is railing Wonyoung against the shower glass, and then Yujin jerking you off all over her angelic face, because again—nobody ever gets clean in there.

Your stomach rumbles when you roll over, but thankfully, it doesn’t wake up these two beauties on either side as they sleep soundly. The peace is nice and most welcome, even if you can still feel getting kneed in the ribs in the middle of the night.

You could go for some pancakes. Or maybe pizza, but you’ll settle for just about anything that’s loaded with carbs.

If only delivery could make it all the way up to the bedroom—but then again, maybe not, they’d be plenty ashamed by the state it’s in. You could cook some eggs, and god, hot coffee sounds amazing, but that requires somehow getting out of this mess of limbs you’ve ended up tangled up in again. And to be honest, you’re quite comfortable here, sandwiched between both beautiful, naked girls, surrounded in their warmth.

"What time is it?"

It takes a second to realize where that voice comes from, a conscious Wonyoung, voice all husky and fragile.

“Dunno. Like noon? Maybe later.”

“Shit. Class—I have class today.”

“You don’t have class on the weekends, dummy.”

That other voice belongs to Yujin, who still has some adorable sleepiness in her voice. “Daddy must have really fucked your brains out. Is there anything left in there, princess?”

Wonyoung’s too tired to retort anything clever, and you’re just rolling over to bury your face in the pillows.

“Hey, don’t go back to sleep,” Yujin says, poking your cheek to keep you in this realm.

“I want breakfast. Pancakes or something—waffles, that place by campus has waffles. With blueberry syrup,” Wonyoung chimes in, like it’s a matter of urgency.

“It’s already noon,” Yujin reminds her, in this teasing way that almost takes the wind out of her sails, the poor thing.

“It’s the first meal I’m eating. So that makes it breakfast.”

You could totally bury yourself under all these covers and sleep for another four hours. And maybe that’s what you’ll do.

“Hey. Daddy—waffles!” Wonyoung says with so much excitement, shaking your shoulders for extra effect, because lord knows you can sleep through just about anything.

“Then order them,” you say, muffled through your pillow, and you don’t want to leave this comfy bed under any circumstances. Not even for waffles.

In the end, they don’t mind ordering in, because nobody is able to force themselves out of the comfort of this big, soft bed except to answer the door. Then you’ve got a massive stack of chocolate chip pancakes on your lap, Wonyoung has waffles bigger than her head (complete with her precious blueberry syrup that she drowns them in), and Yujin gets French toast smothered in syrup and powdered sugar that keeps smearing over her lips.

Wonyoung spills a drop of blueberry syrup on one of her thighs, and when you think it’s going to jumpstart another round (and god, you’re already just so tired), she cleans it up herself. Breakfast is just breakfast, a pleasant moment to get all the sugar and carbs in your bodies to replenish your energy.

And there’s really nothing better than that.

--------

First off, a huge thanks to @braaan for editing this mess, and for being such a painless, wonderful beta reader. Second, if you've made it this far, thank you!

I didn't intend to make it this long, but you know how these things go. Hopefully there’s something for everything in what is probably the most self indulgent thing I’ve ever written. <3

[anthurak]

So with everything we learned and saw in Episode 4 from Angel, Valentino, Charlie and Husk, here’s a little theory on how the Hotel crew saving Angel from Valentino might play out. Particularly in how Husk’s status as a former Overlord may factor into things.

Because I have a hunch it’s actually going to be Husk, rather than Charlie who gets fed up first and goes out to make a real attempt at getting Angel away from Valentino, given everything we saw between Husk and Angel in this episode. Specifically, Husk aims to lure Valentino into gambling for Angel’s contract.

Now that raises the question of what exactly Husk could gamble with. I see two possibilities:

Option One, Husk full on bluffs Valentino that he still has substantial power as an Overlord and has been hiding it all this time, tempting him with more souls and power. And as we’ve seen most notably in Episode 2, Val in kind of a massive fucking idiot, so I could see him actually falling for this. Essentially, Husk gambles with nothing, save his own soul, for a chance to save Angel.

Option Two, Husk actually gets his power BACK from Alastor. Specifically through fulfilling some mysterious, nebulous condition Alastor set up for him. It could even be that this is what sets up Husk to gamble Val for Angel’s freedom. Alastor returns Husk’s power as an Overlord because he’s curious as to what Husk will do with it now. Which we see, is putting it all on the line again for a chance to save Angel.

Whichever way we get to it, we find Husk in a high-stakes card game with Valentino. And of course, Husk does the classic trope of NOT telling his friends or even the guy he’s doing this for what he’s doing to ‘keep them safe’ and all that. Of course, they do find out. Which will come into play later…

As for the all-important gamble; Husk actually does WIN legitimately against Valentino. However, because Valentino is… well, Valentino he welches on the deal and attacks Husk, and perhaps a recently arrived Angel as well.

Now in the event that Husk was bluffing Valentino the whole time and is actually helpless against a fully-powered Overlord, this would be when Alastor, from afar, actually returns Husk’s own power as an Overlord as some offhand, magnanimous whim. Which of course now allows Husk to actually fight back against Valentino.

What ensues is a full and proper fight between Husk/Angel and Valentino, with all the requisite emotional drama of Angel and Husk admitting their feelings for each other and all of Valentino’s shittiness as a person coming out in force. Maybe like an mlm version of the Bees vs. Adam fight.

However, despite getting his power as an Overlord back, Husk ultimately turns out to not be as powerful as Valentino. Alternatively, perhaps he never gets his power back at all and we just skip to here from Husk winning the bet. Whichever way we get here, Husk and Angel are now at the non-existent mercy of Valentino.

Which is precisely when CHARLIE shows up.

And I imagine what ensues plays out in a flash. Like everyone is only just registering that Charlie has appeared when suddenly everything is on fire. We get only the briefest glimpses, perhaps only in silhouette, of the full-sized horns on Charlie’s head, the great leathery wings coming out of her back and the pitchfork in her hand before she has Valentino by the throat and the mothman starts BURNING, screaming in pain as he is consumed in hellfire.

Basically, I feel that after this episode we are going to see Husk be the one to step up first to try and save Angel from Valentino, given everything we saw between the pair this episode. But at the same time, I think the interactions between Charlie and Valentino, particularly Charlie starting to transform in rage, sets her up as the one who’s going to ultimately put Val down. Specifically via giving us a glimpse at Charlie’s true power.

And I do say glimpse because I imagine the full and proper reveal of Charlie’s ‘Devil Form’ is almost certainly going to be saved for when she’s forced to take on the likes of Adam and the Exorcists, the ones who have been set-up as proper antagonists to Charlie herself.

[incognit0slut]

Better for you

Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.

(THIS CAN BE READ AS A STANDALONE BUT IS TECHNICALLY A THIRD PART FOR LOSE CONTROL AND THE LAST LAUGH)

words: 4.6k Category: fluff (surprisingly this is not my usual NSFW work) warnings: kissing, suggestive content a/n: I’m killing two birds with one stone here. One, I caved in and did another part for this rival couple. And two, I wrote this as a participation in @imagining-in-the-margins office party writing challenge🥳 Here are the prompts: 1. The team hardly believes it when Character A agrees to dance with B. 2. “I just never saw you as a... party type of person."

WAS A PARTY SUPPOSED TO BE THIS BORING? A subtle sigh escaped her lips as she glanced around the backyard. When Rossi invited the team to gather around at his house in celebration of the new year, everybody was on board.

"Who would say no to a David Rossi party?" JJ had said, which led her to bring her family along the occasion. Even Simmons brought his wife and five little kids. And now Rossi’s place never looked so alive with this many people, it seemed that everyone was present at this joyful soirée.

Everyone but one person, that is.

She turned her attention back to the drink in her hand, leaning against the open bar Rossi had set up, her mind drifting towards a certain man. It wasn't like she was keeping tabs on him. Really, she wasn't. It just happened that his absence became surprisingly noticeable when he decided to take some time off work to visit his mom, even days before Christmas break.

How long had it been since the last time she saw him? Two weeks? Three? It seemed like a considerable amount of time had passed since she saw was forced to work with him, which happened during the case in a remote town. And despite successfully apprehending the Unsub days later, her resistance to temptation, unfortunately, wasn't as successful.

It was hard not to think of what happened during the travel when it kept playing in her mind like a broken record. It was as if the memories were engraved in her brain—his slick, sweaty body pressing against hers; his soft lips caressing her skin; his large hands roaming her curves, traveling to places that had her hot and wet—

What the hell was wrong with her?

She took a sip of her drink—or more like chugging it down—trying to test if the burning sensation could wash away her filthy mind.

"Whoa," a sudden voice broke through her haze and she looked up to find Luke standing close to her. "Easy there."

His easygoing grin met her gaze as he gestured toward her almost empty glass. She shrugged, aiming the glass toward him in a mock toast. "Just trying to enjoy the party."

"Yeah?" He chuckled, leaning against the bar.

She shot him a sideways glance. "What's it to you, Alvez?"

His grin widened. "Well, when someone's drinking like they're on a mission, it catches my attention. Everything okay?"

She hesitated for a moment before responding, her tone calm. "I'm just getting into the party spirit, you know?"

Luke raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor unwavering. "Is that so? Or are you trying to drown out some thoughts?"

She scoffed. "Thoughts? What thoughts?"

"The kind that makes you chug down your drink."

"You're imagining things. I'm simply enjoying this..." Her eyes scanned the party, trying to find a word describing the ongoing festive. "...ambiance."

"Alone by the table full of alcohol?"

"Well, someone's got to keep an eye on these drinks from disappearing too quickly."

"Hmm," He responded. "It kind of seems like you're waiting for someone to join the party."

Her cheeks warmed slightly, and she scoffed again. "I know who you're referring to, and no, I am not waiting for anyone."

He leaned in, the mischief in his eyes unwavering. "So, you're telling me that if Reid walked in right now, you wouldn't do a happy dance?"

"Please, there would be no happy dance," she said, rolling her eyes. "Just a casual acknowledgment, maybe."

"Casual acknowledgment? You're going with that?" His grin widened, his teasing persistence unyielding. "There's nothing casual about you two."

"If you mean hating each other's gut, then sure, there is nothing casual about Reid and me."

"He doesn't hate you, you know." She gave him a deadpanned look, her skepticism evident in her arched brow. Luke laughed. "Fine, he disliked the idea of having another prodigy on the team. When he got out of prison, he felt like you were his replacement."

She frowned. "I kind of was. Emily wanted someone to fill in for his absence while he was away."

Luke raised an eyebrow, his expression turning thoughtful. "True, but I think you're starting to grow on him." She shook her head, trying to brush off the comment. "I'm serious, I think you made an impression."

Her skepticism lingered as she fully turned towards him, pointing a finger at him. "So you’re telling me every time he tried to pick a fight he was actually impressed by my intelligence?"

"Well, Reid's got this... unique way of expressing himself, but trust me, he respects you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Now you're just pushing it."

"There's got to be something more than what you're letting on. He's not exactly subtle, you know."

She leaned back slightly, trying to maintain composure. "You're reading too much into it. Reid and I have..." a complicated dynamic between coworkers who hate each other but had sex twice—well, three, including that one time in the shower. "...a professional relationship," she decided to say.

His grin widened. "Professional? I've seen the way you two spar during cases."

She huffed. "It's just our way of solving problems. It doesn't mean anything more."

Luke's expression turned thoughtful. "I've worked with him for a while, and he usually doesn't go back and forth with people in smart talk. There must be something about you that intrigues him."

"Or irritates him," she added dryly. "You're giving him too much credit."

"Maybe," he admitted with a laugh. "But I don’t know, he might surprise you one of these days."

She shot him a skeptical glance. "I highly doubt that."

"Yeah?" He suddenly looked past her, a sly grin forming. "Then maybe should find out for yourself."

Confused, she turned around to see what had caught his attention…. And time seemed to slow as her eyes widened in surprise when she spotted Spencer entering the party, a casual smile on his face as he greeted everyone. For a moment, their eyes locked, and despite her attempts to remain nonchalant, a subtle flutter danced in her chest.

She quickly looked away, her attempt to maintain composure falling apart.

"See what I mean?" Luke's voice broke through her thoughts.

She rolled her eyes, trying to deflect. "It's just a party, people look at each other. There's nothing special."

He raised an eyebrow and responded with a hint of sarcasm. “Sure."

"I'm serious. Stop reading into it."

"Alright, I won't."

That only annoyed her even more. She took a deep breath, attempting to regain control of the situation. "You're insufferable."

"What? I believe you," he replied. "I mean, nothing could've happened between two people who were locked together and then forced to share a room, right?"

She shot him a glare, but before she could say anything, she felt a presence coming up behind her. A sudden chill ran down her spine as she caught a whiff of scent she was accustomed to by now, something woody and fresh with a subtle hint of sweetness.

"Reid," Luke greeted as he gave her a side glance before moving towards Spencer, casually dropping an arm around his shoulders. "It's good to see you. How's your mom?"

Spencer's eyes met hers briefly before responding to Luke, "She's doing well, thanks."

“Good to hear.” Luke nodded his head towards her. "Y/n here was just telling me how much she missed you during the holidays."

Suppressing a groan, she shot him a warning look. Spencer, however, responded with a small smile. "You did?"

Her cheeks warmed slightly, caught off guard by his direct question. She feigned nonchalance, offering a casual shrug. "Please, I was just mourning the lack of someone to challenge my wisdom."

Luke chuckled and gave her one last pointed look before excusing himself with a pretense of Rossi calling him somewhere from the crowd. Her eyes narrowed on his back as he walked away, shaking her head in disbelief. "That man coming close to being second place on my hate list."

"I take it I'm still on your number one spot then."

She turned towards him at the sound of his voice, and now that they were alone, she finally took her time to observe him.

Her eyes scanned his clothes, taking in the details. From the carefully styled hair that hinted at the time he took to prepare, to the open dress shirt that he seemed unbothered to button all the way, exposing his long neck and the slight expanse of his chest. He looked good. He looked clean, polished, and undeniably handsome.

She blinked and cleared her throat, attempting to regain composure. "Well, you certainly took your time getting ready."

He met her gaze with a hint of amusement in his eyes, seemingly aware of her scrutinizing observation. "I believe in making a good impression," he replied, a subtle smile on his lips.

She arched an eyebrow, resisting the urge to acknowledge the effect his appearance had on her. "Trying to win over the crowd with something beyond your brain?"

"Partly," he admitted, "And partly because someone once told me that a well-dressed genius is a force to be reckoned with."

"Must have been Garcia."

He grinned. "You know her well."

She took another sip of her drink, a blend of sweet and bitter notes dancing on her tongue. Keeping her eyes on him over the rim of her glass, she observed the play of shadows on his face, accentuating the angles of his features. The ambient light from the party cast a subtle glow, and she couldn't help but notice how it highlighted the soft strands of hair that fell gracefully across his forehead.

"I'm actually surprised to see you here," she slowly remarked, her voice laced with curiosity.

"Surprised? Should I be offended?"

"I just never saw you as a... party type of person."

"I'm not," he agreed. "The only exception of social gathering I can endure is with everyone present here."

"Including me?"

“Especially you."

Her demeanor faltered for a split second, caught off guard by the unexpected turn in his tone. It wasn't the usual witty remark she anticipated. A flicker of surprise crossed her features before she could conceal it, her throat clearing as she attempted to regain control over her beating heart.

"Especially… me?" she echoed, attempting to mask the surprise in her voice.

Spencer's gaze held a warmth that felt unfamiliar, and he nodded. "It seems social events are more bearable when you're around."

She tilted her head and studied him. "You're just saying that because you have someone to pick a fight with."

"A fight?" He wondered. "Is that what we've been doing?"

"It's what we've always been doing."

"Not for the past few weeks, we haven't."

She knew what he was referring to. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of indulging in a conversation about their sexual escapades, she instead responded with, "Well, you haven't, I'm still trying to play my part here."

He chuckled softly, the sound resonating in the quiet space between them. "And what part would that be?"

"The one where I constantly question the liability of your knowledge, of course."

Spencer's smile widened, the lines of his face softening. "Maybe," he began, his voice low, "We can explore different roles that don't involve any fighting."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting a truce, Dr. Reid?"

"More like a change of tactics, Dr. L/n," he replied, gently taking the glass from her hand and placing it by the bar.

Her frown deepened, uncertainty in her eyes. "What are you doing?"

He nodded toward the center of the backyard where most of their team members filled the space of the party. "Dance with me."

She gazed towards the dance floor, then back at him, and her brows furrowed. That did not sound like the Spencer she knew, heck, she wasn't sure she had ever seen him dance before. Her eyes narrowed further when he gave her a grin.

"Come on, it's just a dance. It won't kill you," he urged, extending a hand towards her.

She eyed his outstretched hand with mock skepticism. "Are you implying that dancing with you is some kind of survival?"

Spencer grinned. "Considering the number of times you've survived my intellect, this should be a walk in the park."

She rolled her eyes. "Intellect, yes. Dancing? I'll take my chances."

"Are you afraid you'll step on my toes?" he teased.

"More like I'm afraid you'll step on mine," she shot back.

Spencer chuckled. "Just one dance, and if you don't enjoy it, you can revert to questioning the liability of my knowledge."

Her eyes drifted between his outstretched hand and his gaze, a silent contemplation unfolding within her. She knew that if she agreed to this, there was no turning back. Was it a wise decision? Probably not. But a small, rebellious part of her was curious to see how the night would unfold.

Spencer watched her with a patient expression, his hand still extended. The music continued to play, a steady beat that seemed to echo the pulse of the night, and after a moment's hesitation, she sighed in mock exasperation.

"Fine," she said, finally placing her hand in his, "But I reserve the right to make sarcastic remarks about your dance moves later."

"Deal," he agreed, leading her onto the dance floor with a grin.

She could feel everyone's scrutiny on them as he pulled her onto the dance floor, her breath hitching when he grabbed her other hand and placed her arms around his neck before snaking his arms around her waist.

"Everyone's watching us, aren't they?" she asked as they started to move to the soft beat of the music.

Spencer's gaze held a mischievous glint as he twirled her around, navigating the dance floor with surprising grace. "Let them watch," he replied, his voice low, sending a shiver down her spine. "It's just a dance, after all."

"You don't strike me as the 'just a dance' kind of person." She arched an eyebrow, unable to shake off the sense that there was more to this move than met the eye. "You don't even strike me as someone who even knows how to dance."

He shrugged. "Dancing is easy. All you have to do is move in circles and hold on to your partner."

He proved his point by pulling her further into his arms, and she couldn't help but notice the contrast in their heights. His broad chest pressed against her, the softness of his abdomen against her stomach, while his arms securely wrapped around her body.

Her breath caught for a moment, her gaze instinctively locking with his. The initial awkwardness transformed into a surprising ease, and she reciprocated the movements with a newfound confidence. The subtle sways and turns took on a rhythm of their own, syncing perfectly with the music that enveloped them.

"See?" he whispered, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down her spine. "Easy."

They continued to move to the rhythm, and she couldn't help but notice the intensity in his gaze. The world around them seemed to blur, and for a moment, she actually enjoyed being held close to him.

But before she could fully relax in his arms, JJ appeared on the dance floor, hand in hand with her husband Will. The look of disbelief in their friend's eyes was unmistakable as the couple approached them while being tangled in their own dance.

"Are my eyes deceiving me," JJ teased, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Or are you two getting along quite well?"

She rolled her eyes, attempting to maintain a casual facade. "It's just a dance. Don't read too much into it."

JJ's grin widened as she exchanged a knowing look with Will. "I didn't think I'd see the day when you and Reid would willingly share the dance floor."

She shot a glance at Spencer, and there was a momentary flicker of something in his eyes—was it surprise? amusement? She couldn't quite place it. Collecting herself, she responded with a mock grimace, "He forced me into it."

Spencer's expression turned playful. "I have a way of convincing people to do things they didn't know they wanted to do."

"You mean manipulate."

He chuckled. "Persuade, Y/n. It's all about perspective."

From the corner of her eyes, she saw JJ and Will exchanging another pointed look. "Either way, you both look like you're having a good time."

"And you both look good together," Will added.

"Thank you."

"We're not together."

They both looked at each other while JJ raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. "Yet here you are. Spence, you might have just discovered a hidden talent—getting Y/n to dance."

She let out a sigh. "Don't encourage him."

Spencer leaned in, his tone low. "You're just mad because you're enjoying this."

She narrowed her eyes. "Let's not get carried away."

"Come on, just admit it," The corners of his lips lifted in a playful smirk. "You're having more fun than you expected."

"Fun?" She scoffed, attempting to deflect the growing warmth in her cheeks. "I wouldn't call this fun. It's just an unfortunate consequence of being at a party."

"Yet you can't deny that you're not entirely opposed to the idea."

She shot him a glare. "You're dangerously close to overestimating your influence."

"Or maybe you're underestimating your willingness to enjoy the moment."

She shook her head, turning towards JJ. "Can you believe him—"

She stopped when she realized they had been left alone for a while, noticing JJ and Will were already at the other side of the dance floor. However as her eyes scanned around them, the scrutiny of the others didn't go unnoticed by her. She fixed her gaze back on Spencer.

"We must be such a sight to see," she remarked. "I bet they're starting some rumors about us."

He raised his eyebrows. "You think they haven't already?"

She sighed, acknowledging his words. "Fair point."

"What do you think they're saying about us?"

She considered for a moment. "That we secretly don't hate each other," she responded after contemplating her answer. "I think they might be disappointed when they realize the truth."

His arms instinctively tightened around her waist. "And what's the truth?"

She studied him, her heart suddenly beating fast. Weeks ago, she would have answered the question with certainty, stating that they were nothing more than coworkers who were both very stubborn. But as she felt his eyes watching her intently, she wasn't so sure anymore.

"The truth?" she echoed, her voice a little softer than she intended. "I don't know, Reid. What is our truth?"

He held her gaze, and for a moment, she was hypnotized by the look in his eyes. "Well, the part where we secretly don't hate each other is true, for me at least."

Her breath caught as she absorbed his words.

“…you don't hate me?"

"Hate is a very strong word." Spencer leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. "Hate is often fueled by fear or misunderstanding. It's a complex emotion rooted in our perceptions and experiences. So, in a way, hate is a reflection of the mind rather than a true evaluation of a person."

She couldn't help but let out a disbelieving laugh. "Did you just use psychology to explain why you don't hate me?"

"Considering our line of work, it seemed appropriate."

She shook her head in amusement. "Only you would analyze hate in the middle of a dance."

Spencer continued, "Well, understanding emotions is crucial in our field. And I believe there's more to us than mere hostility."

She pursed her lips together, her mind suddenly going through the times they often bickered. "I still find it hard to believe you didn't hate me the first time we met."

"Dislike would be a better way to put it. But I was at my lowest point at that time. It wasn't just you, I was angry at everyone. At the circumstances. At myself." He slightly leaned back and sighed. "And I admit, it was wrong of me to take it out on you."

Then after a moment of silence, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

She felt the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against hers. The apology hung in the air and she found herself at a loss for words. For a fleeting moment, the walls she had built seemed to crumble, leaving her standing on the precipice of something unfamiliar.

She took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper, "And how do you see me now?"

Spencer's gaze held a thoughtful intensity as he considered her question. "I think you're someone who challenges me. There's a depth to you beyond the harsh glare and cold shoulder." He eased, pressing a hand on her lower back. "And, if I may say, someone who looks surprisingly stunning on the dance floor."

A blush crept over her cheeks, and she narrowed her eyes, wondering if he had another motive behind the compliment. "You're using flattery now? Are you trying to get in my pants again?"

He laughed. "Is it working?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a smile. "Nice try, Reid. Flattery might get you far, but not that far."

His grin widened, and he guided her through the dance floor with ease. "Well, I'll have to come up with better tactics then."

His touch, gentle and deliberate, sent a shiver down her spine as his thumb traced an almost hypnotic pattern on the small of her back through the fabric of her dress. The soft caress felt both intimate and tender, catching her off guard. "I mean it though," he said, his voice a soft murmur that resonated with honesty. "You do look beautiful tonight."

There was something in his gaze that was unfamiliar, even hearing him easily compliment her was foreign in her ears. Her confusion must have been evident on her face because he smiled at her. "What?"

She shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. "Nothing. It's just... unexpected, coming from you."

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her as they moved in sync with the music. "It's part of my New Year's resolution."

"What? To be nicer?" She guessed. "Be a better person?"

"To be a better person for you," he corrected.

Her heartbeat picked up, and she found herself drawing closer to him, the music weaving a subtle spell around them. The warmth radiating from him, the soft glow of the string lights, and the gentle melody created an intimate atmosphere that blurred the lines between the hostility she often wore.

The distance between them diminished, and she felt the subtle shift in the air. Without registering what she was doing, her fingers came up behind his neck, softly playing with the strands of his hair. They were so soft, just like the look reflected in his eyes. Then her gaze went down to his lips; they too looked incredibly soft.

"Stop looking at me like that."

Her eyes snapped to his. "Like what?"

"Like you want to close the distance between us," he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down her spine. "Because I'm trying to restrain myself from doing just that."

His fingers found the small of her back, pressing gently, while hers continued their silent dance in his hair. Every touch, every movement, fueled the escalating heat between them. His proximity was intoxicating, and the magnetic pull between them was undeniable. The distance diminished further until she could feel his breath, warm and inviting, grazing against her lips.

But before she could indulge herself, Garcia's voice echoed somewhere in the crowd. "It's the final countdown, people!"

Suddenly becoming aware of their surroundings, she released her arms from around his neck and shifted her gaze elsewhere. Her eyes landed on the projector screen, previously used by the kids for a movie marathon and now it displayed the vibrant scenes of people joyously ringing in the New Year celebration.

As the digital numbers on the screen ticked down, the energy in the backyard intensified. The countdown became a collective heartbeat, a shared anticipation that echoed through the crowd.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

In those final moments, she stole a glance at Spencer, their eyes locking silently.

"Seven! Six! Five!"

But his stare became so intense that she quickly looked away.

"Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

The cheers erupted, and the backyard was bathed in the glow of fireworks, the sky above adorned with bursts of color. She watched the dazzling display in awe, the explosions of light reflecting in her eyes.

Amidst the celebratory chaos, she noticed her friends wrapped in the arms of their loved ones, celebrating happily. JJ and Will shared a sweet kiss, Simmons was embraced by his family, Penelope and Luke exchanged laughter, and even Rossi, with a subtle smile, clinked glasses with Emily and Tara.

And as the colorful explosions painted the night sky, she felt a lingering gaze on her. Turning, she found Spencer watching her intently. His eyes were searching hers as if he were asking for permission to close the short distance separating them.

She knew what he meant. It was beyond asking permission to kiss her. It was a gentle plea to understand the unspoken boundaries that lingered between them. Engaging in intimacy behind closed doors was one thing, but to take that step in front of their peers meant exposing a vulnerability she had carefully guarded. Did she want to cross that line?

A part of her wavered, finding herself drawn to him—his warm brown eyes, his smile, everything about him seemed to call out to a part of her that she had kept guarded. The barriers she had meticulously built started to feel like fragile walls as everything around them started to fade, leaving only the soft glow of string lights and the distant echoes of laughter.

Oh, fuck it.

Feeling the pull of an undeniable force, she took a step closer with a small, bashful smile playing on her lips. It was all the answer he needed. Closing the distance between them, he framed her face with his large hands, his warm touch sending a shiver down her spine. Surrounded by the cheers of the crowd and the vibrant display of fireworks overhead, he finally leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers.

Warmth spread through her body as he held her, his touch gentle yet possessive. He tipped her jaw, allowing his mouth to move along with hers. His tongue easily slipped into her as he continued to taste the subtle hint of liquor she had been drinking. Spencer was never one to drink, but he didn't mind tasting it on her. If anything, he couldn't get enough.

Her arms instinctively traveled underneath his suit jacket, seeking more of his warmth as she wrapped them around his waist. The fabric of his suit was smooth under her fingertips, and the heat of his body radiated through the layers of clothing.

The kiss deepened as he continued to explore her mouth, growing more intense with each passing second, and it wasn't until they heard someone through their haze calling out, "There are kids here!" that he finally pulled away.

He laughed, a soft, genuine sound and she couldn't help but join in. He then rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the small space that separated them. The lingering taste of their kiss hung in the air, and for a moment, they simply stood there. The reality of the situation slowly sank in, and they exchanged a glance filled with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"I guess we got carried away," he mumbled.

"You think?" She chuckled, her fingers playing with the lapels of his suit jacket. "We should keep it PG-13 for now."

His fingers gently traced the curve of her cheek. "Does that mean we can go R-rated later?"

She let out a laugh, throwing her head back in mirth. "You're relentless."

He smiled, savoring the moment of ease between them, and he found himself captivated by the genuine joy she radiated. His gaze traveled around the backyard and noticed everyone watching them with amused grins. He leaned down and pulled her flush against him. "Everyone's watching us."

She groaned and hid her face in the crook of his neck. "I can already imagine their teasing."

There was a moment of silence before he responded, "I think it's worth it."

"What is?" she mumbled into his neck.

He pulled away and looked down at her. In a tender gesture, he brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "I can handle the constant teasing if it means I get to hold you like this."

The corners of her lips curled into a soft smile. "You're willing to endure their teasing just to hold me?"

His gaze met hers, unwavering. "More than willing."

Her gaze softened as she looked at him. She couldn't believe how this night had turned out, yet, here they were—wrapped up in a dance of their own. It was a position she would've never imagined herself in. And despite her best efforts to resist, the walls she had meticulously built were crumbling.

"Can I kiss you again?" He whispered. "I promise I'll make it family-friendly."

The corners of her lips curled as she laughed. The unexpected turn of events had brought them to a place she never anticipated, but surprisingly, it felt oddly right.

"I suppose one more won't hurt."

His smile widened, and with a hint of mischief in his eyes, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Happy New Year," he whispered against her lips.

She found herself smiling, realizing that perhaps, unexpected as it was, this change of year wasn't so bad. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and wondered where her life would take her this year. The path ahead seemed unclear, but one thing was certain—Spencer Reid had managed to find his way into her heart.

.

a/n: if you’ve followed the story since lose control, this is the ending for this short series. As much as I wanted to write smut again for the last part, the fluff was calling out to me :3

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[flwrstqr]

— HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (LHS - 이희승)

SYNOPSIS ! an advice writer, you, starts on a bold new project for an article aiming to explain how to drive a man away in just 10 days. your editor is supports, so you set out to find a suitable man for her experiment. meanwhile, executive heeseung is equally confident in his ability to make any woman fall in love with him within 10 days. when you and heeseung cross paths, things slightly go off plan.

THE CAST heeseung x writer! fem reader

GENRE s2l, fluff, comedy, romance

WORD COUNT 5k+

WARNINGS parties, kissing, small grammar errors, yn kind of playing with heeseung at first, swearing, angst, crying

DANi NOTEZ hii this is for my liz's new event!!! this i based the rom com, how to lose a guy in 10 days. i kind of changed up scenes but the main idea and plot is based on the iconic 2000s movie. i've been writing this for abt 2-3 days? i thought it was good enough for liz' event so here i am. anyways i hope u enjoy it ><

BEING A WRITER HAS BEEN YOUR NUMBER ONE GOAL EVER SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. Now, at age 23, you were finally standing at the gates of the biggest magazine company ever. The sight alone sent chills down your spine, filling you with exhilaration.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The bustling activity, the hum of the printer, and the aroma of bitter coffee greeted you. You made your way to the elevator and anxiously pressed the button for the 17th floor.

Upon arrival, you awkwardly walked into the office. Your heart was pounding, and your knees were slightly shaking. You approached the manager's office and opened the door, finding yourself sitting in front of your section's main manager.

"YN LN?" the woman asked.

"Yes, ma'am," you replied stiffly, nerves evident in your voice.

"Welcome to our magazine company," she greeted, shaking your sweaty hand.

"Thank you," you responded with your usual sweet smile.

"Well, why don't you get to work?" she laughed. Your eyes widened, and you quickly stammered an apology, rushing to find your new desk and start brainstorming ideas.

For nearly two hours, you gazed out the window, feeling empty. No ideas were coming to you. It always seemed that the best ideas came at the worst times, and now, when you needed them most, your mind was blank.

"YN, just think…" you whispered to yourself, running your fingers through your hair. You glanced around the office, hoping for inspiration. Your eyes settled on a young man and woman engaged in a flirtatious conversation. Watching them smile and laugh together made you wonder if they were a couple or just interested in each other. (happy couples really did give you an ick.)

Then, it happened. The perfect idea. An idea that could possibly get you promoted and shake the whole world.

Quickly scribbling on your paper, the title snapped into your mind: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING, how do you even lose a guy in 10 days? Easy—just find a guy and drive him away by doing stereotypical “girl things.” Sounds like a piece of cake, right?

“YN, that is one of the BEST ideas I’ve ever heard!” your editor, Yeseo, exclaims.

“Really?” you ask, eagerly smiling.

“It’s perfect! It would catch everyone’s attention!” Yeseo explains, her eyes lighting up as she imagines the situation.

“So, how are you going to write this?” Yeseo raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll try it out myself and document my experiences. That way, it’s more authentic,” you shrug.

“That sounds great. Just journal your experiences each day,” Yeseo nods, agreeing with your plan. “I’m so excited to see the final product, YN. Email me once you’re finished, and we’ll get it published within weeks.”

You give her a quick smile before leaving her office, ready to start your new adventure.

PARTIES. USUALLY ONE OF THE THINGS YOU ABSOLUTELY HATED. The noise of couples kissing, people screaming, and music blasting through the speakers was just not your thing. The way sweaty bodies brush against each other as they chug alcohol. Parties are truly the thing you hate the most.

“So you’re telling me your new article for the magazine is about how to get a boy to dump you in 10 days?” Karina raised her eyebrow.

“In other words, yes,” you smiled. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Possibly it not working,” Giselle interjected.

“Well, it will. I’ve planned the whole thing,” you grinned with a hint of pride. “My editor was impressed. I’m sure it’ll work.”

“If you say so,” Karina laughed at your confidence.

“So basically, YN will get a boyfriend before me?” Ningning asked, shocked.

“Well, he’s not gonna be my boyfriend. He’s more like a test,” you replied uncertainty. As you continued to explain your plan, you felt a gaze fixed on you from across the room.

A FEW MINUTES BEFORE

“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend,” Jake joked.

“I can,” Heeseung rolled his eyes.

“Wanna bet on it, then?” Jake's eyes glinted with playfulness.

“Deal,” Heeseung confirmed.

“If you get that girl over there as your girlfriend, then I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” Jake smirked, pointing at you across the room.

“Her?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow as he checked you out. You were pretty to his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to approach you.

“Yup, her,” Jake grinned.

“Deal, I’ll have her in my arms within a day,” Heeseung winked before walking over to ask for your number.

NOW

“No way my plan will fail–” your voice stopped as Heeseung approached, tapping your shoulder lightly.

“Hi,” he greeted you with a welcoming smile.

“Uh, hi?” you replied, confused.

“You’re kind of cute. Can I get your number?” Heeseung asked, the words not quite rolling off his tongue as he had never done this before.

Your cheeks burned slightly as you stared. “Sure?” He was quite cute, with his sweet smile and perfectly styled hair. You gave him your number, and he mentioned he would text you later before walking off.

“YN, you know what that means?” Giselle raised her eyebrow.

“Huh?” you looked confused.

“You can use him as your test,” Winter recalled. Your eyes then widened. Perfect! He would be the perfect subject for your new article. Now, how were you going to make him yours?

YOU SIT ON YOUR BED, staring at your phone, debating whether to text Heeseung first. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Finally, you take a deep breath and type out a message.

YN: Hi, it’s YN. We met at the party earlier, you asked for my number. :)

You hit send and immediately feel a rush of anxiety. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he thinks you’re weird? You try to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, but the minutes feel like hours. Suddenly, your phone buzzes.

Heeseung: Hey, of course I remember. How's your night going? 

YN: It’s going good, just relaxing now. How about you?

Heeseung: Same here. Just got home. That party was a bit too much for me, tbh

You smile, feeling a little more at ease.

YN: Agreed, not rlly a party person lmao

Heeseung: Really? Me neither. I actually prefer a quiet night with some good music.

YN: Same, what kind of music do you like?

Heeseung: I listen to a lot like R&B and indie ig

YN: oh rlly? Same w me 

Heeseung: oh that’s cool

Heeseung: also wanna meet up one day?

YN: That would be amazing. I’m totally up for it.

Heeseung: Cool, it’s a date then. :)

You can’t help but smile at his message, feeling a flutter of excitement.

YN: Sounds like a plan.

Heeseung: It’s getting late. I should probably get some sleep. But I’m glad we got to talk tonight.

YN: Me too. Sleep well, Heeseung. Talk to you tomorrow?

Heeseung: Definitely. Goodnight, YN. :)

You set your phone down, a smile still on your face. This might just be the start of something interesting.

YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH, smoothing out your outfit one last time before stepping into the restaurant. Heeseung is already there, waiting at a table near the window. He spots you and waves, a warm smile spreading across his face. You give a small smile back. 

“Hi,” you greet him as you sit down.

“Hey,” he replies, “You look great.”

“Thanks, you too.”

The waiter comes over to take your orders, and there’s a moment of awkward silence as you both look at the menus.

“So, uh, do you come here often?” Heeseung asks, attempting to break the ice.

“Actually, it’s my first time,” you admit.

“I see,” Heeseung awkwardly laughs. 

AFTER DINNER, you both step outside into the cool evening air, feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence.

“That was really nice,” Heeseung says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, feeling a sense of relief that the awkwardness from earlier has faded.

You walk side by side down the quiet street, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.

“Do you live far from here?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.

“Not too far. Just a few blocks away,” you reply, glancing at him.

“Oh I see,” he says, smiling.

As you continued walking, the two of you began to chatter off. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you find yourself laughing at his jokes and sharing your own stories.

“Did you see the sunset earlier?” Heeseung asks, pointing to the sky, which is now painted with shades of orange and pink.

“Yeah, it was beautiful,” you say, smiling at the sight.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Heeseung says, looking at you with a soft smile.

“Me too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.

As you reach your street, you both come to a stop.

“Well, I guess this is where we part ways,” Heeseung says, looking a little reluctant to leave.

“Yeah,” you say, feeling a twinge of disappointment.

“Thanks for tonight, YN. I had a great time,” he says, stepping closer to you, “Maybe another time we can hang out again.” 

“Thank you too, Heeseung. That sounds great,” you reply, feeling a rush of happiness.

 YOU DECIDE IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR PLAN INTO ACTION. You’ve thought through every detail, determined to see if your article concept works in real life. Step one: find an ugly dog and some hideous clothes. You’ve got the perfect ideas in mind.

You meet Heeseung outside his apartment, holding a small, scruffy dog with a face only its owner could love. You flash him a bright smile as he opens the door.

“Surprise!” you exclaim. “I got us a dog!”

Heeseung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the dog. “Uh, wow, YN. That’s…unexpected.”

“Isn’t he adorable?” you gush, ignoring the bewilderment on Heeseung’s face. “I named him Snuggles.”

“Snuggles, huh?” Heeseung says, trying to muster enthusiasm. “Yeah, he’s…something.”

You place Snuggles in Heeseung’s arms, watching as the dog licks his face with an enthusiastic, slobbery tongue. Heeseung grimaces slightly but manages a strained smile.

“Let’s take him for a walk,” you suggest brightly, grabbing a garishly colored leash from your bag.

Later that evening, you bring out the next part of your plan: an outfit so hideous that it should be impossible for Heeseung to bear. You hand him a neon green tracksuit with orange polka dots and a pair of mismatched shoes.

“I thought we could match!” you say, revealing your identical outfit. “Isn’t it fun?”

Heeseung looks at the clothes, then back at you, clearly unsure how to respond. “Wow, YN. This is…unique.”

“You don’t like it?” you ask, pouting slightly.

“No, no, it’s great,” he says quickly. “I’ll just, uh, go change.”

When he returns, you both look like you’ve stepped out of a bad 80s workout video. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity, but Heeseung seems to be struggling to keep a straight face.

“Let’s go grab dinner,” you say, linking your arm with his. “I made reservations at that fancy restaurant downtown.”

At the restaurant, the two of you turn heads as you walk in, dressed in your eye-searing outfits. The hostess tries to maintain her professionalism as she leads you to your table, but you can see the corners of her mouth twitching.

Throughout dinner, you do your best to be as irritating as possible. You chew with your mouth open, talk loudly, and insist on ordering the strangest items on the menu.

“Are you sure you want the pizza?” Heeseung asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

“Absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “And I think you should try it too!”

Heeseung hesitates but eventually nods. “Sure, why not?” 

Here you were, sitting on your bed as you write your story. Typing away and zoning out, it had to be working right? He obviously would be over you by next week. All you needed was one more shove to drive him away soon as possible. Just 5 more days..

YOU PUSH YOUR CART THROUGH the aisles of the grocery store, scanning the shelves for the items on your list. As you reach for a box of cereal, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“YN?”

You turn to see Heeseung approaching, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh, hi Heeseung,” you say with a smile.

“Nice to see you here,” he says, falling into step beside you.

“Yeah, I just needed to grab a few things,” you reply, feeling a bit flustered by his presence.

Heeseung nods, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence as you both continue browsing. Suddenly, you realize you can’t reach the item you need on the top shelf.

“Um, Heeseung, do you think you could help me with something?” you ask, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Of course, what do you need?” he replies, stepping closer.

“I just need to grab that box up there,” you say, pointing to the top shelf.

“Sure thing,” Heeseung says, reaching up to grab the box.

But as he stretches, you accidentally bump into him, causing him to lose his balance. In a split second, you reach out to steady him, but instead, you end up stumbling backward, crashing to the ground on top of him. Your face merely inches from each other. 

“I’m sorry about that!” you exclaim, your face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he says, his cheeks also flushed as he helps you up.

“Um, we should probably get up,” you say, feeling flustered.

“Yeah, definitely,” Heeseung agrees, scrambling to his feet.

You both straighten your clothes and try to regain your composure, but the awkwardness lingers in the air.

“Well, um, thanks for trying to help,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Anytime,” Heeseung replies with a sheepish smile. You exchange a quick awkward glance before awkwardly walking back to do your own things.

YOU AND HEESEUNG STEP INTO THE DIMLY LIT MOVIE THEATER, the smell of popcorn filling the air. You’ve been looking forward to this night out, hoping it will help end your plan to drive him away. As you settle into your seats, the lights dim, and the movie begins.

The film is a romantic comedy, and as the story unfolds, you find yourself getting lost in the plot. But when the characters share a kiss on screen, you feel a sudden tension between you and Heeseung.

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and you can see that he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You both look away awkwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

As the movie progresses, the tension between you only grows. You can feel Heeseung’s eyes on you, and you struggle to focus on the screen, your heart pounding in your chest.

Suddenly, as another kiss happens, Heeseung leans in closer to you. You freeze, unsure of what to do. Is he going to kiss you? But then, almost as if on cue, Heeseung leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. His breath mingles with yours, his warm exhales tickling your skin as he leans in, his lips drawing closer to yours. You can feel the gentle brush of his breath against your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. And then, in a heartbeat, he closes the gap between you, his lips pressing softly against yours. It’s a gentle kiss, but hesitant at first, but soon it deepens. You can’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.

You melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours.  When you finally pull away, your heart is racing, and your mind is buzzing with emotions. You meet Heeseung’s gaze, and you can see the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes.

“Wow,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

“Yeah,” you murmur, at a loss for words.

As the movie comes to an end, you both sit in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. But despite the awkwardness, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.

As you leave the theater, you can’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, feeling a sense of warmth and longing that you can’t ignore. And as you walk hand in hand with Heeseung, you realize with a start that maybe, just maybe, you’re falling in love.

AS YOU LIE IN BED THAT NIGHT, the events of the evening replay in your mind. The gentle touch of Heeseung's lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace—it all stuck in your head. 

You stare up at the ceiling, think to yourself.  Love? It's a word you're not ready to utter, a feeling too intense to comprehend. You try to push the thought aside. 

You roll onto your side, pulling the covers tighter around you. You couldn’t be in love? All that effort you put in to get rid of him. It was your 8th day, just two more days. You couldn’t do it anymore. As you drift off to sleep, the question echoes in your mind. Are you falling in love with Heeseung? 

THE REALIZATION HITS YOU like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling breathless. Could it be true? Are you actually falling in love with Heeseung?

The thought consumes you as you go about your day. By the time evening arrives, you can't shake the feeling that you needed to end it.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you pick up your phone and dial your editor's number. When she answers, you get yourself together for the conversation ahead.

"Hey, it's me," you begin, "I need to talk to you about the article."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the curiosity in her voice as she responds. "Sure, what's up?"

"I… I can't write it," you admit, the words feeling like a confession. "I just don't feel right about it anymore."

There's a moment of silence before your editor speaks again, her tone firm."No, you're writing it," she says, leaving no room for argument.

"But—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off before you can continue.

"No buts," she insists. "We've already agreed on the topic, and you're the best person for the job. I expect to see the first draft on my desk by the end of the week."

You sigh, feeling defeated. It's clear that your editor isn't going to budge on this issue, and you know that arguing further would be a waste.

"Okay," you say reluctantly, resigning yourself to the task at hand. "I'll get it done."

AS YOU SIT ON YOUR COUCH, trying to make sense of everything that's happened, until you hear Heeseung pick up a call. 

“ Heeseung!" Jake's voice crackles through the phone, filled with excitement. "So, have you sealed the deal yet? Win YN over?"

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of your name and you instinctively lean in closer, eager to hear his response. But as you listen, the color drains from your face, and a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach.

"The bet that I could get YN in 10 days?," Heeseung's voice comes through the phone, his words cutting through the air, "I thought I could, but…" 

Your heart shatters. Your knees started to shake. How could you have been so blind? How could you have let yourself fall for someone who was playing a game with your feelings?

Before you can hear the rest of his sentence, you leave the room silently. "I thought I could, but…" The words replay in your head.As the reality sinks in, you realize that you may have just broken your own heart, listening in on a conversation that was never meant for your ears.  He played with you. He was using you. You feel like a fool, blindsided by the truth that's been staring you in the face all along. 

You walk yourself to the nearest taxi before coming back to your empty apartment. You lie on bed, your palms on your eyes, sobbing quietly. Why should you care? I mean he was just an experiment — right? 

THE MORNING SUNLIGHT FILTERS through the curtains as you sit on your bed, thoughts rushing through your mind. The wounds from last night were still raw, as you feel tired and sick. You kew what you have to do. You began to type your last paragraph of the article before submitting it to your editor. 

With the article sent, you feel a mix of anxiety and relief. You know the revised piece is honest and raw, reflecting your own experience. But there’s one more thing you need to do to truly move forward.

To: Editor Yeseo

Subject: Resignation Letter

Dear Yeseo,

I am writing to formally resign from my position as a writer, effective immediately. I appreciate the opportunities I have had here and the support from the team, but I must prioritize my well-being at this time.

Thank you for your understanding.

Sincerely, YN

You hit send, feeling an overwhelming amount of pain. Being a writer had been your dream job, but now, it feels like a chapter you need to close. As you sit in your now-quiet apartment, you feel a pang of sadness. The memories of the past few weeks with Heeseung linger, but you push them aside. 

You start with your closet, pulling out clothes and sorting them into piles: keep, donate, and toss. You take down the photos and posters from the walls, each one a reminder of the life you’re leaving behind.

Next, you move to the kitchen, packing up dishes, utensils, and small appliances. You wrap everything carefully, methodically, as if each item represents a piece of your heart that you’re trying to protect. 

Your phone buzzes with messages from Heeseung, but you ignore them. Making them be left on delivered. You move to the living room, packing up books, DVDs, and mementos. You’re not just packing up your belongings; you’re packing up your old life, preparing to move on and start new.

IN HIS DIMLY LIT APARTMENT, Heeseung sits on the edge of his bed, the glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his face. His heart pounds in his chest as he opens the email attachment—a document titled "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—And Fall in Love in the Process" by [Your Name].

As the page loads, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to read. The cursor hovers over the first paragraph, and with a trembling hand, he begins to scroll down. 

Heeseung sits at his desk, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads the article that has just landed in his inbox. With each word, his emotions spiral into a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.

"When I set out to write this article..."

He reads the opening sentence, his brow furrowing in confusion. What article is this? And why does it sound so familiar?

As he continues to read, the pieces start to fall into place. The description of the article, the unexpected turn of events—it's all too familiar, too painful to ignore.

"I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject..."

Heeseung's breath catches in his throat as he realizes what he's reading. This is about him. About the bet, about the article he overheard, about everything.

He reads on, his heart pounding louder with each passing sentence:

When I set out to write this article, the plan was simple: follow a set of steps to make a guy dump me in ten days. It was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted challenge—a piece to entertain our readers. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject. But as the days went by, something unexpected happened. The more I tried to push him away, the closer we became. Every awkward moment, every forced argument, every silly plan to drive him away only brought us closer together.

I found myself laughing at his jokes, looking forward to our time together, and, against all odds, feeling a connection I hadn't anticipated. What started as a challenge turned into a journey of discovery—not just about him, but about myself.

I realized that love isn't something you can plan or control. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it, breaking down the walls you've carefully built around your heart. And sometimes, the person you're trying to lose ends up being the one you can't imagine living without.

So, dear readers, this isn't the article I set out to write. It's not about foolproof ways to make a guy dump you. Instead, it's a story about how, in the process of trying to push someone away, I found myself falling in love. It's messy, it's unexpected, and it's beautiful.

Life has a funny way of turning our plans upside down. And sometimes, the best stories are the ones we never meant to write.

He closes the magazine, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you how he feels. He can't let this opportunity slip away, can't let the chance to be with you slip through his fingers.

With a sense of determination, Heeseung rises from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to find you, to tell you how he feels, to see if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way too.

HEESEUNG'S HEART RACES AS HE RUSHES THROUGH THE STREETS, his mind consumed with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you everything.

As he rounds the corner, he sees your apartment building looming ahead. His steps quicken, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He's so close now, so close to finally telling you how he feels.

But as he reaches your building, his heart sinks at the sight before him. He sees movers loading boxes into a truck parked outside, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that you're moving away.

Heeseung's chest tightens with panic, his mind racing as he searches for a solution. He can't let you slip away, can't let this chance to be with you slip through his fingers. He rushes toward the building, his thoughts jumbled all up. 

As he bursts through the door, he sees you standing in the hallway, a suitcase at your feet, tears streaming down your face. His heart breaks at the sight of your sadness, and he knows he needs to act fast.

"Y/N!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the empty hallway. You turn to face him, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him standing there.

"Heeseung?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "What are you doing here?"

Heeseung takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "I need to talk to you," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago."

He steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I was part of the bet," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it was never about winning a thousand dollars or proving anything to Jake. It was about proving something to myself—to prove that I could be the kind of guy who deserves someone like you."

Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his confession, your heart aching with a mix of sadness and hope. "Heeseung…" you whisper, reaching out to touch his hand.

But Heeseung doesn't wait for you to say anything more. With a surge of courage, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, pouring all of his love and longing into the kiss. 

As Heeseung's lips meet yours in that soft, tender kiss, his hands gently find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You feel the heat of his body against yours, the closeness intensifying the sensation of his lips moving against yours. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as if memorizing every curve of your body.

You pull away, staring and laughing for a moment. 

"I love you," you whisper softly. 

"I love you more," he smiles back, quietly leaning his forehead against yours to quickly catch his lips on yours again. Maybe writing that article wasn't so bad after all.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You start to realize there could be a reason to worry when your exhaustion won't let up. Bradley is so focused on what's happening in Texas, he doesn't even realize he's missing out on what's happening at home.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Texas in August was hot as fuck. And the humidity left Bradley wishing he could jump in a pool. There was no cool, coastal breeze. There was no temperate climate. It was gross. It had him vowing to never move from San Diego for the rest of his life.

"How did I live in Virginia for so long?" he grumbled, getting dressed for his first day on base. He had the air conditioner blasting in his small room in the barracks, but he was still sweating at seven in the morning. He considered texting to see how you and Rose fared overnight without him, but it was even earlier at home, and he didn't want to wake you unnecessarily. 

He could picture you curled up on his pillow drooling, and it made him smile. But you had to do everything this week without his help, and that made his smile falter. He always tried to alleviate some of your stress by holding Rose when she fussed or walking around with her until she fell asleep. Mostly he was just in love with being a dad and wanted to spend as much time with his daughter as possible.

"Shit," he muttered when he checked the time, realizing he needed to get out of here before he was late. As soon as he stepped outside, the heat had him convinced he would sweat through his khaki uniform before he got to meet the rest of the recruits. Well, other than the ones he'd met at the bar the previous night.

LTJG Brooke Jeffries, call sign "Indigo", came to mind right away. It was no wonder how she'd earned her moniker. Her eyes were the most shocking shade of blue he'd ever seen. She tried to buy him a drink before insisting he meet several of the other aviators who were part of the program over at the pool table. Bradley stayed for a little while, careful not to let a single one of them buy him a drink. In fact, he only had the one beer with his dinner which would go directly to his expense report. The last thing he needed was one of them trying to get the upper hand or complaining that he was playing favorites.

With no clear idea of where he needed to go, Bradley wound his way along a few corridors before finding the classrooms. The facility was a lot smaller than those of North Island or even Oceana, but the rigorous training protocol at this particular airbase held a lot of promise. He was almost shocked at times that he'd been selected to decide who would advance to Top Gun.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!"

Bradley turned toward the voice and was greeted by a few Admirals. After some saluting and some chitchat, he was led to the appropriate classroom, the presence of superior officers silencing everyone in attendance. There were some more introductions before he was given control of the group, and if he was sweating because of the heat a few minutes ago, now it was because of nerves. Shit. He wanted to be as successful as possible in this role.

"Good morning. I'm Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, and I'll be spending this week observing you in the air as well as reviewing the extensive files that have been compiled for each of you. Out of three dozen aviators in attendence, a maximum of eight will be invited to join the training program at Top Gun in September. I look forward to working with you."

He could feel piercing blue eyes on him as everyone stood, adjusting their flight suits as they headed out to the tarmac to get started. Before making his way up to the tower for the duration of the day, Bradley took a few minutes to identify each aviator and answer some questions. It didn't seem to matter where he was standing, Indigo was always nearby, but her questions were pertinent. She seemed like a bit of a teacher's pet, which had never been his style, but to each their own.

Then he sent them up in the air individually and in groups so he and the admirals could take some notes as a group. It was obvious even very early on who the standouts were. After just one day, there was very little question who would be joining him in San Diego.

-----------------------------------

You felt terrible. Almost like you had the flu. But every time you checked, there was no fever accompanying the constant exhaustion. Of course Rose decided this week would be the opportune time to have a blowout diaper every hour all night long, leaving you in a state similar to a zombie at work.

"Come here," you whispered, picking her up at daycare after work and giving her kisses. "Your godmother is coming over for dinner, and I want you to be on your best behavior. No pooping," you told her as you pushed her through the parking garage in her stroller. She simply laughed at you in response, which was not a great sign.

It wasn't even hot out. It was beautiful weather, especially compared to what Bradley was enduring this week. Yet you still felt unbearably hot, and you had a headache. "Maybe it's a good thing we didn't go with him," you mused as you situated Rose in her car seat. "You'd be poopy and sweaty, and that's not a combination that I really feel like dealing with at the moment."

While you tried to drive home, your headache just got worse, and you really didn't now how you were going to handle making dinner. Perhaps you should just start taking some cold medication as a preventative. It wouldn't hurt anything. You changed direction to make a quick stop, because a snack sounded nice, too. Maybe you could coax Rose to go to bed right after Nat left, eat some candy and pass out yourself. At least Bradley wasn't at home to stress you out. Recently, he seemed to put you right on the edge of irritation a lot of the time, and it was nice to get a bit of a break.

You were pushing the stroller down the last aisle in the drug store when you saw something which made you freeze in place. "No," you whispered, palms starting to sweat along with the rest of you. The vague awareness that you still never got your period after Rose was born washed over you. As soon as you got back from La Jolla, where you were pretty sure Bradley pulled out, you started back on the pill again. But there was no way for you to tell if you were ovulating.

You grabbed some pregnancy tests and went straight for the registers, freaking out inside before you remembered to double back for some cold medicine just in case. Your fingers were shaking as you used your credit card to pay for everything, including two candy bars. The cashier was making a fuss over your daughter, but the sudden loud ringing in your ears was preventing you from formulating a coherent response. You grabbed your items and rushed back outside.

When you got home, Nat was already there, and tears stung your eyes when she walked across your driveway to help you carry everything inside. "How's my sweet Rose?" she asked, picking her up gently from her car seat and peppering her cheeks with kisses. Then her eyes widened briefly when she what you'd purchased at the drug store. But she didn't say a word about the pregnancy tests, and you didn't have the energy to mention it or try to make an excuse.

"I'm thinking of making spaghetti for dinner," you told her, settling on the easiest combination of pasta and store bought sauce.

"I didn't want you to have to cook for me, so I brought some hot sandwiches from the diner," she replied. "One roast beef and one turkey. You can pick the one you want, because I like both."

Your mouth was instantly watering, and when you opened the bag on your kitchen counter, it smelled so good, you could have kissed her. "Thanks for getting these," you said, quickly unwrapping both sandwiches and pulling out plates. "I'm really tired this week without Bradley here."

"I figured as much. You've got to keep this little love bug fed and played with and read to all on your own." She sat down on the couch with your daughter in her arms. "I don't understand how something that looks like Bradley can be so adorable. Logically, it doesn't make sense to me."

You snorted, cutting both sandwiches in half to share them evenly. "He insists she doesn't look anything like him."

"Oh, he's so full of crap. I mean, he's lucky your kids will also look like you, because you're beautiful."

You didn't miss the way she used the plural of the word, and you felt your anxiety spike again as you cleared your throat. "Do you want to sit in the dining room? Or at the kitchen island?"

"Whichever is easier," she replied, giving you a lingering look before shifting her attention back to Rose.

You knew it was better to take a pregnancy test first thing in the morning, but after Nat left, you couldn't stop looking at the packages on the kitchen counter. Since you bought several, you didn't see the harm in taking one of them before bed. What's the worst that could happen? You'd stay up all night in a state of nervous energy? You were barely getting any sleep this week regardless, so why not just take it?

Burping Rose and reading her bedtime story were two things your husband readily volunteered to do, but you fumbled your way through both tasks as your heart beat a little faster. You were about to take a pregnancy test. It wasn't that you didn't want to get pregnant again, you just didn't want to get pregnant again right now. Not while your firstborn was still so young, and not when you hadn't been feeling like your normal self again yet. The idea of two babies to care for was also so daunting,  you found yourself close to panicking.

You had to leave Rose in her crib to cry for a few minutes before she fell asleep, because you couldn't wait any longer. Not only did you want to pee on the stupid test just to see a result, you also felt like your bladder was going to burst if you didn't go now. You made a beeline back to the kitchen where you grabbed the boxes and your candy bars before running to your bathroom.

When you tore into the foil wrapper, you accidentally cut your finger. "Damn it!" you gasped, wrapping it up in toilet paper before you got the test ready with your other hand. You didn't know what to think as you finally let your bladder feel so much better. Chances were strong you'd need to take an additional test in the morning if you wanted to double check a negative result. You knew your hormone levels would be stronger then.

"This is pointless you whispered to yourself as you put the test on the counter and set a timer on your phone. You snatched up the candy bar, ripping the packaging open with your teeth and climbed into the empty bathtub to wait. The chocolate tasted delicious. Just as good as the sandwiches Nat brought. You wrapped the toilet paper tighter around your finger when you realized you could smell the metallic tang of blood in the air.

What were you going to do? Bradley would most certainly be pleased if it was positive. He indicated he that he couldn't care less if you were on birth control at all. If the test was negative, you wouldn't even tell him about it. You'd simply take everything out with the trash, and he'd never see it. Unless Nat said something. But you didn't think she would. Especially since you didn't metion any of this to her. That would be breaking girl code. But she was his best friend, so you weren't sure.

You took another big bite of your candy bar and thought about how long it took you to get pregnant with Rose. It was too easy to recall all of the months where you had yourself nearly convinced that it was never going to happen. How much anger and hurt you felt, wanting something your body just wasn't letting you have. And your daughter was perfect. She really was. But now you were scared for a different reason, and you only had yourself to blame for being so horny when you forgot to take your birth control pills away with you.

The fact that this candy bar tasted so good to you was becoming alarming. You could eat about ten of these in a row right now, no problem. You desperately needed to stop with the junk food and lose more weight, but you were starting to worry that there was a reason for this as you did some quick math. If you got pregnant in La Jolla, you would be about nine weeks along by now. You almost choked on the chocolate. That was practically the end of the first trimester. Maybe there was a reason you were so fucking bloated.

When your phone alarm sounded, you carefully chewed up the last of the candy as you eased yourself out of the tub to silence it. Your movements felt like slow motion as you unwrapped your finger to find just a small cut before tossing the toilet paper in the trash. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror, pausing to examine your expressionless face. And before you even looked down at the test on the counter, you knew what the result was.

--------------------------------

Being in a different time zone than you was annoying as hell. Bradley missed a call from you last night when he passed out as soon as he got back to his room after hitting the gym and taking a shower. Once again, he was afraid to call or text you too early and wake you this morning. Besides, he had to be in the tower soon to discuss some of his frontrunners with the admirals since he only had two more days before he flew back to San Diego. At that point, he would start planning the training exercises he would implement with these aviators come September.

Two pairs of Super Hornets were working through a dogfighting scenario when the radios in the tower crackled to life with voices. Once again, Indigo and Rex seemed like the top prospects for permanent roles at Top Gun. "They look really good," Bradley mused, scanning their list of accolades. "They're at the top of my list."

"Agreed," one of he admirals replied. "They are both a bit ruthless in the air, but they get the job done every single time."

The fact that it sounded like they were talking about Jake from five years ago almost made Bradley laugh, but that was probably the energy he needed to bring back with him. He could work some of the ruthlessness out of their systems.

"Who else do you think would fit with the program?" the other admiral asked, and Bradley was pleased to find that his notes and thoughts on all of the aviators were met with respect and agreement. His shoulders loosened, and a rush of confidence filled his veins. He'd been trying not to acknowledge how much this new role was filling him with anxiety. There was the fear of failing at his job, but he also wanted to be successful for his own personal growth. At the end of the day, knowing he was leading a well rounded team was important to him.

It was also important that he hit the gym again, or maybe go for a long run. The last few times you'd ordered pizza for dinner, he came home and inhaled half of the pie like it was nothing. When he looked in the mirror, there was definitely some more weight hanging around his middle. When he texted you, asking for some new pictures of Rose, you told him you were still at work but needed to call him as soon as you were done. He had about an hour, so he got changed and turned on his This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley playlist that you made him so long ago, and he started a long run.

You were so much better at making playlists than he was, it was laughable. However the summer heat here was not laughable. Nobody else looked as beet red and sweaty as him. Maybe he was just conditioned for San Diego at this point. He wasn't really sure, but by the time he put a few miles in, he doubled back toward his barracks. When he sat down on some concrete steps at the side of the building, he held onto his phone, ready to answer your call whenever it came.

He was mopping his forehead with the hem of his UVA tee shirt when the door behind him swung open. 

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw."

Indigo's voice was now familiar to him from several conversations and the comms in the tower. "Lieutenant Jeffries," he replied as she stepped past him, also dressed for a run. He simply couldn't understand how these people weren't always pouring sweat.

"I meant to ask how you're enjoying Texas."

Bradley laughed and set his phone down on the step between his feet as she stood on the cement before him. "I'm ready to go back to San Diego and escape the heat. Not sure how you all manage here."

She smiled and ran her fingers through her jet black ponytail. "It's not so bad. I'm from Virginia, so it almost feels familiar." Her eyes slid down to his chest, reading his shirt before continuing to his left hand. "You went to UVA?"

"Yeah," he replied with a nod. "I grew up between Norfolk and Virginia Beach."

Her vibrant eyes lit up. "What a small world, Sir. We would definitely have a lot to chat about. After I run my five miles and hit the shower, I'm heading to the bar with Rex and the others. You should meet me there."

Bradley's brow furrowed as he examined her face. She was young. He knew exactly how young from poring over the individual files all week. Her expression held no trace of uncertainty, like she was expecting him to agree without question. She was one hell of a self assured pilot, but he wasn't going to start playing favorites.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm waiting for a phone call."

One dark brow quirked up over her blue eyes. "From your wife?"

He nodded slowly, voice deep and raspy when he spoke again. "Yeah. Hopefully my daughter, too."

Her gaze lingered on his face as she backed away from him with a soft laugh. "I'll be looking for you at the bar later."

Then she was off and running, leaving Bradley squinting into the setting sun and her retreating form. When he picked up his phone, he realized he missed your call again. 

--------------------------------

Bradley, please focus on your family. One more chapter of him in Texas, and then we'll see what follows him home. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[roanofarcc]

ONE DANCE, PLEASE?

pairing: trevor lefkowitz x ghost bride!reader

summary: since your death, weddings at Woodstone have been a source of bitterness for you but that doesn’t stop trevor from attempting to cheer you up with a dance

word count. 1.6k || masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, mentions of death, dead!reader

a/n: this is my first ghosts fic so please be gentle! I love the idea of a ghost bride and debated on making it into an OC or reader story. I think I like having it be in little one-shots! it’s a crime more hasn’t been written for trevor (or any of the show’s characters). feel free to request for trevor or any other ghosts characters <3

“Are you going to mope around for eternity?” Sasappis asked you, standing arms crossed in front of a beautiful garden decorated to the nines. The backdrop to your sulking was stunning flowers tied in bunches and pastel dresses moving around the patio-turned-dance floor. 

“Is that not the point of being a ghost?” you replied, jutting out your feet forever stuck in kitten heels and skin-colored pantyhose. Sass lightly kicked your foot with his and nodded his head to the corner just off the dance floor where the rest of the ghosts danced and laughed. A part of you was jealous of how easily they enjoyed themselves at weddings and how they were not plagued with an eternal hatred for them and what they represented. 

It always felt like a cruel joke, even though it never had anything to do with you, when Sam and Jay hosted a wedding at their B&B. As much as you loved the couple, you couldn’t stand what most considered a joyous event. The union of two people in love, not tainted by tragedy, grew your restatement each time. Weddings were a part of the business and helped Sam and Jay bring in the money they desperately needed to fix up the mansion, but that didn’t mean you had to enjoy yourself. Instead, you spent each event sulking on the sidelines, ignoring the pang in your chest, and avoiding your ghostly counterparts' advances to cheer you up. The only thing that would’ve cheered you up was a do-over of your big day that was ruined by a strike of unluckiness, resulting in your untimely death.  

Sass narrowed his gaze at you but decided against saying whatever he wanted to. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed back to the ghosts. You adverted your gaze back down to the beads sewn into your dress, picking at them with the wish you could pull the garment apart with your hands, but since it was what you died in, it would forever stick to you. 

A slow song played through the DJ’s speakers as the sun slowly began to set over the yard. Strung lights glittered warmly, bathing the attendees in a golden glow. The bride had looked radiant since she arrived at the mansion days ago, and all day you had to watch her and her husband’s love run circles around you. Your malice wasn’t aimed directly at the happy couple, but rather at what they represented and the reminder of what you almost had. 

Someone appeared beside you, their presence clouding your solitude-sulking. “What a bunch of losers,” the person said, causing you to turn your head and meet Trevor. “I mean, seriously, this song was lame when I went to weddings and people are still dancing to it? I get the appeal of throwbacks but let’s pick this snooze-fest up a little, am I right?” 

You rolled your eyes. “What do you know about weddings?” 

“I happen to have been invited to a lot of them, thank you very much. Well, the receptions and bachelor parties, usually. Those weddings had a lot more alcohol and single bridesmaids.” You said nothing in response, hoping your dimly lit mood would shoo Trevor away. You were mistaken, though. If anything, your silence only encouraged him further. He moved in closer to your side, standing with his hands on his hips as he gazed out across the crowd. “I think they may need some help livening things up a bit. Care to join me?” 

He often tried to do that, brighten your mood by offering to dance with you. And every time you turn him down, not because you didn't want to, but because you’re worried that the second you start to enjoy yourself at a wedding, tragedy will follow a second time around. You liked Trevor and couldn’t stand the thought of enjoying yourself only to hurt yourself, again, or him. In your head, as long as you moped around, everything would stay the same as they were, which you loved more than you’d admit aloud. You liked your ghost-mates and you liked Sam and Jay. If you somehow brought some unfortunate curse upon any of them because you enjoyed yourself just as you had on your own wedding day, you weren’t sure you could cope with that a second time around, not when you hardly coped with it from the first time. 

“Trevor…” you sighed, defeated and slumped-shouldered. 

Normally, he dropped it after that. He usually sat quietly at your side until his excitement and urge to join the party overwhelmed him and he resumed dancing with Flower or attempting to play pranks on the livings with Thorfinn. That time, however, he took you by surprise. He moved directly in front of you, face set with a certain tone of seriousness that was odd. 

“Nope,” he said, simply. “You are not moping for eternity. I won’t let you.” 

“That’s not your choice.” 

He smirked, cheekily and annoying but stupidly charming. Those three words suited him too well. Trevor extended his hand out, making a grabbing motion with his hand. “One dance, that’s all I’m askin’. That’s all I need to change your mind.” You tightened your grip on the skirt of your dress, unbudging at his request. “One dance. Please?” His voice was a little lower, pleading almost. 

One dance. You never got to dance at your wedding. Something bad could happen, it probably would. 

Trevor’s fingers grazed your knuckles, tapping them lightly and looking at you in a way, underneath the golden light, that made you consider it. He noticed your hesitation and dropped his hand back down at his side. 

“Okay,” he said after a beat before he turned away with a little frown on his lips that made you feel even worse. 

There was something wrong with you, maybe it was some kind of ghostly side effect of dying on your wedding day; perhaps you were doomed to live in the murky waters of what-if and why. 

The bride and groom were in the middle of the patio dance floor, spinning each other around in quiet fits of laughter and bodies pressed as close as they could get with the bride’s fluffy dress. They were married, dancing as two halves of a whole with nothing bad lingering over their heads. There was no impending doom, aside from you sitting on the outskirts. The doom was you and your mind, rippled with jealousy, sadness, and a million questions of what exactly you could have done differently that day. But the truth was, there was nothing you could have done. Fate was fate, as Flower had once said in one of her more insightful conversations. Fate was messy and included bear attacks, arrows in necks, and accidents. Fate found you there, at the Woodstone mansion forever a fiancee but now entangled with the fates of your ghost friends who also found themselves there forever. 

Forever was such a long, made even longer with eternity hanging on your shoulders. How many more weddings would you sit there, watching and sulking in your own unhappiness that others wanted to fix for you? 

Something between a groan and a sigh left your lips as you stood up, letting your wedding dress fall back down to the ground in the pristine condition you had died in it in. “Trevor,” you said again, louder as you called after him. He stopped, slowly turning around with a confused quirk of his brow. You nervously picked at the beads again, but that time wasn’t to pick them off but rather settle them back in place in a similar way to how you had picked at them awaiting your turn to walk down the aisle. A dance was not nearly as monumental as that, but it carried a weight that pressed down on your chest. 

“One dance,” you said. He stared at you for a moment like he wasn’t sure he had heard you right. It wasn’t until Thor punched him in the arm with a hardy laugh and Hetty pushed him forward towards you. 

Trevor approached you, smoothing out his tie. “Really?” he asked. 

You nodded. “If anything bad happens, I’m blaming it on you," you said only half joking.

He smiled, wide and toothy and the way that made you subconsciously want to copy it. “The worst thing that’ll happen is me stepping on your feet. I haven’t slow danced since prom.” Despite that, he dramatically bowed and extended his hand. “May I have this dance,” he said in a terrible accent. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, some of that weight lifting from where it hurt your chest. 

Once you accepted his hand, he all but dragged you to a quiet corner of the dance floor, away from where any livings would walk through you two, and away from the other ghosts and their suggestive smirks and comments pointed at the two of you. 

When you danced, with his feet clumsily trying to avoid stepping on yours and hands rested on your waist, nothing bad happened. You did not die a second time around, nor did tragedy strike in the way you feared. The only thing that occurred was dancing, peppered with occasional laughter and a quick apology when Trevor stepped on your skirt and halted your movements. You recovered with a shake of your head and a slight lead in the dance, which he didn’t voice but silently appreciated.

[leclerc-hs]

piano lessons - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x femstudent!reader Summary: in which the tension between you and your music teacher finally breaks Warnings: smut, oral (f-receiving), 18+, not proofread, bad French! Word Count: 1474 Author's Note: idk I really just felt the need to write this. please correct my french if you can

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

EVER SINCE YOU were a little girl and your parents placed you into piano lessons, you knew you were destined to play and write music. It became your sanctuary, a place to escape from the demands of reality and a medium through which you could mold reality into art. Now, it propels you into a university music course, where your path intertwines with that of one of the most attractive professors you’ve ever encountered. Scratch that, one of the most attractive men you’ve ever encountered.

You weren’t oblivious to his stares. The way his green eyes sometimes lingered on you much too long as he spoke in front of the class. Today, for instance, his gaze seemed fixated on the end of your short skirt, where your fingers fumbled with the fabric. He tended to single you out frequently, using you as a shining example to illustrate correct procedures for everyone. His praise for your efforts seemed never-ending. It would send you leaving the class all blushed and flustered constantly.

You weren’t completely innocent either though, and it didn’t help that he was so fucking hot. His hair perpetually tousled from running his hands through it, and the veins in his fingers pronounced whenever he played the piano. You found yourself often fixating on his hands, imagining what they might feel like on your body. It was a tantalizing thought, wondering if he could play you as skillfully as he played the piano.

His hands were artwork in themselves.

At times, you sensed the mutual attraction, a subtle dance of connection that left you questioning whether it was real or a product of your imagination. Doubts lingered until today, when Adam, the person seated beside you, relentlessly pressed to take you out. His persistent advances bothering not just you, but apparently your professor as well.

“Adam, Je te suggère de te concentrer sur ton devoir.” I suggest you focus on your assignment. Towards the end of class, it appeared that your teacher had reached a point of exasperation. “Elle ne te veur pas.” She doesn’t want you. “Arrête de perturber tout le monde.” Stop disrupting everyone. You could sense the annoyance in his tone and the way his body tensed when Adam first asked you out.

What he really meant was:

You don’t deserve her

You couldn’t give her an ounce of what she really needs

Stop pissing me off

The class responded with snickers, accompanied by a round of “Oooo burn” echoing throughout the room. You felt your cheeks turn red of embarrassment for yourself but more so for Adam.

“C’est assez aujourd’hui!” That’s enough for today! He dismissed the class. “Profitez bien du week-end!” Enjoy the weekend!

While the other students hurriedly exited the classroom, you hesitated, lingering behind. Restlessly tapping your foot, you watched as your music teacher casually leaned against the desk. His arms, robust and defined, stretched the seams of his t-shirt sleeves as he folded them across his chest, fixing you with a curious gaze.

“Est-ce que je peux vous aider?” Can I help you? His lips tugged up into a sheepish smile. 

You felt yourself fidget with the bottom of your skirt as your eyes met with his. “Oui, besoin d’aide avec ma chanson Mr. Leclerc,” Yes, I need help with my song. “Je n’arrive pas à trouver la fin correcte.” I can’t get the ending right.

It wasn’t a complete lie. You genuinely needed help with your ongoing composition. Each conclusion you attempted just didn’t carry the sense of completeness you were aiming for. But you also just wanted to be around him more. 

“Joue pour moi.” Play for me. As he extended his arm, gesturing towards the piano, you couldn’t resist the pull, finding yourself moving towards the piano and taking a seat. His attentive eyes tracking your every movement stirred a nervous excitement within you, simultaneously igniting a passionate fire. The shared moment at the piano became more than help; it became a dance of anticipation and unspoken connection.

He found himself utterly captivated by you – the way your bottom lip caught between your teeth in intense focus, the moments when you lost yourself to the music. The cascade of your hair falling behind you revealed the delicate curve of your neck. He wanted to ravish you. 

As you were engrossed in playing your song, you felt him slowly edging closer until he was standing directly behind you. The sensation of his front against your back sent goosebumps racing across your exposed skin. The contact led to one of your fingers slipping, hitting an incorrect key.

You couldn’t see, but a smirk played on his lips as he noticed the small mistake. It was subtle and almost imperceptible. Yet, the knowledge that he, someone aware of your exceptional talent on the piano, induced even a minor slip, fueled his ego. 

You were aware he had heard the mistake, but he didn’t interrupt you. Consequently, you carried on playing, immersed in the fragrance of his cologne, losing yourself in the music until you struck the very last note. The moment your fingers left the keys, you slid off the piano bench and directed your gaze towards him. You leaned against the side of the piano, your elbow propped up on it. 

“Tu es magnifique,” You’re magnificent. The words alone caused a visceral reaction in your stomach, a tightening with need. You couldn’t pinpoint when or how he had gotten so close to you again, but in that moment, you didn’t care. 

In that moment, you forgot that you even needed help with the song. All you could do is stare at his eyes, noticing how they would occasionally drop to glance at your lips.

“Oh merde, embrasse-moi, s’il te plait,” Oh shit, please kiss me. You whispered it so softly, it was barely audible. You didn’t care if you put yourself out on a limb. The constant back and forth had worn you out; it felt like an endless game of cat and mouse.

You could barely finish your sentence as his lips crashed down on yours and his tongue slipped inside of your mouth. He was gentle, but also demanding with it. Your fingers graze his hair, something you have always wanted to do, pulling him closer as his hands find a place on your hips, lifting you onto the piano.

The fingers of his right-hand sneak under the hem of your skirt, his fingers fumbling with the same spot of the skirt yours did moments ago. 

“Puis-je?” Can I? You eagerly nodded, allowing him to push your skirt up and pull your underwear to the side. He paused for a moment, just staring at your heated center. His eyes darkening in hunger at the sight of you. 

“Merde,” Shit.  He groaned. Literally groaned at the sight of your bare pussy on display for him. You were already wet before he placed the pad of his thumb directly onto your clit, rubbing tiny circles before he brought his lips to you.

“Je rêve de ça constamment,” I dream about this constantly. He moaned into your pussy, the vibration and confession pushing a needy cry from your mouth.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, immediately moaning at the taste of you. You let out a sharp cry as your back arched in response to the suction on your clit. One hand held your body up-right while the other fisted his hair in a tight grip. 

He lifted his head for a mere second just to look at you, locking his eyes with you as he pushed two fingers into your heated center. His eyes were dark, and his lips were so glossy, coated with you. You almost came at the sight of him right there.

You were moaning so loud as he curled his fingers, rubbing the spot you ached the most just right. “Tu es tellement putain de belle,” You’re so fucking pretty. He moaned before bringing his lips down you your center and pressing kitten licks to your clit. His fingers still pumping in and out of you rapidly.

It was too much. His fingers, the kitten licks, and the pressure of his nose on you was becoming overwhelming.

“Please don’t stop sir,” you moaned repeatedly. Your legs wrapped tightly over his shoulder, suffocating him into your pussy.  “Ça fait tellement du bien.” Feels so good.

You came unexpectedly with a loud cry, your thighs squeezed tightly against his head as he didn’t let up on the assault of your pussy. He took every drop of your orgasm like it was his source of oxygen. 

Your body fell limp on top of the piano as Charles placed gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs. 

“Puis-je le refaire?” Can I do it again? “Tu as un gout délicieux.” You taste so good.

Yes. Yes you can do it again.

[inbarfink]

Ace Attorney Lawyers Ranked By Their Abilities in Physical Combat

Winston Payne: I’m pretty sure the average Tumblr user could kill Winston Payne with their bare hands.

Sebastian DeBeste: Look, the only reason why this wimp ranks higher than Payne is because he is so sopping wet pathetic that there is a significant chance that his opponent will just start feeling bad about kicking his ass and punch themself in the face instead.

Klavier Gavin: While Klavier is a physically fit young man who is known to keep his cool in extreme situations, he is also a giant law-abiding nerd who has never thrown a punch at anything that isn’t an inanimate wall. It probably wouldn’t be that hard to shove this guy into a locker.

Miles Edgeworth: Look, Miles is an even bigger locker-worthy nerd than Klavier. Anytime anyone, friend or foe, suggests a violent solution he just gets freaked out and begs for them to follow procedures. And no AA Lawyer is more easily thrown off his rhythm and startled than he is. He might have some bulk under the magenta and frills (or at least some impressive leg muscles from climbing 12 flights of stairs every day for like seven years), but he has no idea or will to actually use them in a fight. However, he did try and stare down a man who was aiming a gun at his back that one time and managed to keep his cool throughout all of this.

So like, he’d probably talk a big game and try and intimidate his opponent into not engaging - but if that won’t work he will get his ass thoroughly whooped. And then he’d try to sue them, which is what his threats were about all along.

Apollo Justice: Actually a considerable step up in power-levels from the previous ones. Apollo might be smol, but he is Done With Your Shit and this gives him Strength. Not to mention that one time he successfully tanked an explosion. His famous Chords of Steel can also serve as a tactic to confuse or weaken his enemies.

Kristoph Gavin: Although he is primarily known for his schemes and poisoning, he did kill a man with a single blow to the forehead with a bottle, showing he does have some decent upper-body-strength to use in a fight. And being known as ‘the Coolest Defense in the West’ means he can keep his calm even during hectic combat. But he’s also very pretentious and his constant pontifications might just be the perfect opportunity for someone to smash his face in.

Blaise Debeste: Okay, look, is Blaise a scary tall man who successfully stabbed a woman to death with a candelabra and constantly carries around a deceptively-powerful lighter and has like, implied, motorcycle gang background? Yes. But also I think anyone who encounters Blaise Debeste face-to-face is overcome with such bloodlust rage that it might give them an edge in the battle against him.

Mia Fey: Mia ranks fairly high on the Battle Scale considering the one time she was faced with a violent altercation she just tried to escape and it… didn’t end well.

However, in the two times we get to play as her it’s also clear that she wants to Punch. All of the Things. While Apollo is fueled by being Done With Your Shit, Mia has righteous anger - so I think in a situation where she is actually prepared to do battle she would be able to throw a few decent punches. Also assuming we are talking about Mia while she was still alive, there’s also her Spirit Channeling powers to account for. While we’ve never seen them on screen, Maya told us they are “first rate” and I believe her. Maybe she could channel the spirit of a great warrior to try and get an edge in combat?

Manfred Von Karma: While he also has the same Bloodlust-Inducing-Factor as Blaise, and he does seem less physically fit even though they’re about the same age - I feel like his cane could do more serious damage than Blaise’s lighter. And he has that dangerous fucking Stun Gun on him to easily neutralize opponents. Plus, he did tank that one gunshot he got in the shoulder. Manfred’s opponents might have Rage on their side, but also you cannot underestimate the power of his sheer Spite.

Godot: On one hand, Godot has shown an ability to keep his cool in very dangerous situations. He can smash a coffee cup with his bare hands and barely react, showing that he’s decently strong and resilient to pain. And he is yet another proud (?) member of the exclusive “Lawyers With a Body Count Club”. And while stabbing a waifish, 155cm college student (and part time-poisoner) in the back isn’t exactly the most epic demonstration of battle prowess in the history of Anime Lawyers - he did it (and moved the body and doctored the crime scene and prosecuted in court) while tanking a knife slash in his face, showing his pain-resilience once again, as well as general tenacity that would also be useful in battle. Also, he can summon an infinite amount of hot coffee mugs at will, which must make for a decent improvised long-ranged attack.

On the other hand, his health is also heavily implied to be deteriorating and that he’s basically dying over the course of the final case… possibly due to all of that physical exhaustion. If a fight goes longer than just a single backstab, I feel like these health complications are gonna harm Godot’s performance.

Phoenix Wright: Okay, so this is actually the hardest one to place. I keep flip-flopping on where to put him, especially compared to Mia, and Apollo. Because unlike most other lawyers currently ranked below him, he is a disaster when it comes to being on the offensive; Phoenix Wright is a total wimp who has never returned a punch in his life. However, he is also almost supernaturally durable, unbelievably lucky and deceptively strong. If a solid iron door, a raging freezing river and a speeding car didn’t manage to take him down, what chance does a fellow human, even a more combat-capable one, have???

Calisto Yew: She’s not even a real-lawyer! She’s a Secret Spy who successfully pretended to be a Lawyer for years! She’s got a gun, she’s got a knife, she's got crossbow bolt as hair decorations, she probably has some combat training from her time in Interpol… While she’s clearly more specialized for espionage and infiltration, and not as physically strong as Lang, she’s still got an impressive advantage over most of the regular people who went to Law School. In fact, her skill with barefaced lies and manipulation might also be a skill she could use in a fight to catch her opponent off-guard.

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi: Nahyuta is, in fact, one of the few AA Lawyers to canonically participate in what I would unambiguously call a ‘fight’ (rather than a ‘murder’), when he single-handedly disarmed and apprehended a Defiant Dragon rebel in the sorta-canon ‘Spirit of Justice’ Prologue video.

Like, that rebel guy probably isn't the world's greatest warrior, but the Defiant Dragons have been around for enough time to give their members at least some basic self-defense/combat skills… more so than the average lawyer on this list at minimum. And Nahyuta very easily crab-stomped him. Showing that he has strong nerves, some amazing reflexes and the martial art skills to knock a man unconscious with a single blow. Not to mention the seemingly supernatural skills with his prayer beads, which he already uses as a sort of ‘weapon’ in court. Also that... thing he did to Apollo's bracelet that one time.

Nahyuta might be just straight-up Magic, that's pretty OP.

Franziska von Karma: Look, Franziska might not have official martial-arts, guns, or Literal Magic Powers - but what she does have is sheer determination and force or personality. Franziska von Karma has been intimidating grown men since she was a 149 cm tall 13 years old with a riding crop (I mean, one of those men was Miles, but still…..). She had once whipped Phoenix Wright into unconsciousness in a temper tantrum, and like I already mentioned that taking him down is quite a feat. She is also very resilient - while the shot to her shoulders was designed not to kill her, being up back on her feet doing investigation stuff a day after is still very impressive! Her whip might not be as dangerous as a sword or a gun, but she will not relent until she defeats you.

Simon Blackquill: Let me just give it to you straight, Simon Blackquill is 1.88 meter tall, he owns a katana and a trained attack-hawk (giving him both short range and far range advantage), he can break solid metal chains with his bare hands, he can cut your hair halfway across the room with a feather. Not to mention how he could probably use the whole psychological manipulation in battle to intimidate or goad his enemy. There’s not even a lot of funny or interesting points to bring up, he is literally an action movie character who just happens to also be a lawyer.

Athena Cykes: Athena Cykes is the strongest lawyer. One day, she’ll be stronger than whales. I believe in her.