#if you curious i want to talk about it so so so so so so so so so so so so bad
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Fabricated Persona
Male Reader x Wonyoung
Tags: 28k, smut, anal, creampie, oral, dub con, tw
The story is not ours; we are simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
It was 1:32 a.m. when the doorbell rang. Curious, I went to the door and peered through the peep hole. Wonyoung was standing outside the door. It took a moment just to admire her pretty face, she was gorgeous.
I unlocked the door, but before I could greet her properly, Wonyoung had pushed past me and made a beeline for our kitchen. I closed the door hastily and followed her, just in time to see her bend over our sink. Several of my lustful fantasies were given a sharp kick in the groin. She raised her arm and waved angrily at me as I stood awkwardly in the hallway.
“Where’s my sister?”
“Sleeping.”
“Get over here,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Hold my hair back!” she hissed.
I approached her from behind and grabbed the bunched hair she was holding in her right hand. I turned on the faucet and let it run. Wonyoung seemed to react to the sound of running water and sighed, bending over the sink and pushing her ass into my crotch, unconsciously, I think.
“If you think you can make it,” I said, ignoring the warmth of her behind, “I can take you to the bathroom. I don’t want you to clog the sink.” She gave an annoyed groan. “Fine then,” I said, sweeping more of her hair behind her ears as we both leaned over the sink, waited for her to get sick again. “Fun night?” I inquired.
“Oh fuck you,” she grumbled, placing her hands on the sink’s rim and relaxing a little. “I didn’t know you were back in town,” I said.
“Stop talking,” she grunted. I realized that Wonyoung was drunk, and it probably took as long as it did for me to realize it because I was gradually sobering up. I realized, however, that she was probably more drunk than I’d thought, and I reminded myself not to let her fall asleep with us in this precariously impolitic situation.
Wonyoung heaved. The strain on her body drove her ass backward into my groin forcing me to reach out to keep from tipping off my feet. I grabbed, unsurprisingly, at the prominent curve of her anatomy, her right breast.
She didn't shrug me off because she was probably too drunk to care. I used the handhold to get myself back on my feet but then, failing to be slapped, I kept my hand where it was. Wonyoung groaned as she leaned over the sink, ass straight out. I realized too late that I was unapologetically copping a feel.
Was it worth it? Definitely. It reacted against my fingers with a springy vitality, its swollen roundness so elegantly pronounced on an attractive woman in this inelegant state. I squeezed. Here this poor girl was trying to barf in my sink and I groped her like any drunken frat boy. Call me an asshole, I regret nothing.
I gave one more tentative squeeze before she swatted my hand away. My dick stirred in my pants and I hoped that she didn’t feel it, or was too far gone to care.
“I’m fine!” she barked. She must have thought I was trying to keep her on her feet. “Keep your hands off my tits,” she told me. Maybe not.
“It was an accident.”
“Yeah,” she said with a smirk. We waited together for her to vomit again but after fifteen minutes she finally asked to be sat down in the kitchen and given a glass of water. I had brought her a blanket and was about to retire when she grabbed my wrist and told me to get her purse. She had left it on the kitchen table when she smashed into the kitchen. I picked it up, handed it to her.
I sat down next to her on the couch and watched her cross her legs. The jeans had so many holes and rips that I could clearly see the muscles in her thighs flexing against each other. She searched for something inside the purse and I saw no harm in taking the opportunity to stare right down her cleavage while she had her head bowed. I had never had such an unobstructed view of her chest and after leaning over the sink for so long her breasts were now fully in view. But I was satisfied with the sight before me, her chest expanding greatly as she regained her breath from the awkward crush of bending over the sink.
Wonyoung pulled her hand away from her purse and pressed something against my forearms. “What’s this?” I asked.
“Money.” she said. Right. Wonyoung snapped her purse closed and put it on the ground at her feet. She kicked off her shoes. Then she laid her fingers over her bare knees and finally looked up at me. Clearly the girl was pissed, but she wanted me to see her anger, not the fear behind it. I saw both and was curious, not to mention still buzzed enough to want to take my new mental images with me to the bathroom.
“I need you to hold this for me.”
“The money?”
She let out an annoyed grimace. “I can’t believe my sister dating a dummy.”
“Hey,” I said, handing the money back, “if that’s the way you want to be.” She shoved her hands against mine. “No, sorry, God. Just take the money.”
“Jinyoung…”
“Don’t!” she hissed. “Don’t let her know. Put it someplace she won’t find.”
“Um,” I said, trying to put my thoughts into words. “I don’t—”
“Please,” she said. That was new.
“Okay,” I said, more from exhaustion than common sense.
“And I won’t tell her you touched my tit.” I chuckled. “That was an accident.”
“Whatever. You stare at them all the time.”
We left it at that and Wonyoung curled up on the sofa. I took the money and hid it in the same panel of my toolbox where I hide my cigs. The next morning Wonyoung was gone. According to Jinyoung she was staying with their parents for a few days. I actually forgot about the money for a few weeks until I tried to sneak a cigarette the next month. Wonyoung called her sister a few weeks after that to invite us to her new place. We drove over. But Jinyoung hardly spoke the whole time and I realized that she’d actually been fairly distant for the last week. I asked if there was something the matter. After some cajoling, she told me that a few weeks back, some money were stolen from her parents’ house. The money had been saved for a rainy day. Instantly I thought of the cache of bills stashed in my toolbox.
“Do they know who took it?” I asked. Jinyoung shook her head. “Nothing else was taken so whoever stole it must have known it was there.” She paused for a moment, “…that means it must have been someone in the family.” Jinyoung was visibly shaken. I wondered if I should say something but decided to hear the rest first.
“Who?” I asked. Jinyoung sighed. “They’re not sure. The last time they had anyone over was weeks ago and they just realized the money was missing this week.”
It had to have been her sister. I wasn’t sure for what, and I definitely didn’t know why she thought she could get away with stealing something so conspicuous, but there it was. Yet a shred of doubt clung to my mind. Maybe it was a complete coincidence. Maybe last month Wonyoung had just come into a fortuitous quantity of money and wanted to unload it somewhere without telling her sister. Yeah… Right.
We were on our way up to Wonyoung’s apartment when Jinyoung suddenly stopped. “I forgot the wine,” she said. I myself had forgotten we were here to celebrate Wonyoung’s birthday. “I’ll go,” I said. “Just tell me what to get.”
“No, no,” Jinyoung was already putting a list together in her head. “I also need to get a card and that chocolate she likes.”
“Alright, well, let’s go.” I started heading back towards the car.
“No,” she said. “Stay here. I think Wonyoung’s setting up for the party later.”
I didn’t relish the idea of spending time alone with Wonyoung. She had never been my biggest fan. But it might give me a chance to find out what was going on with the enigmatic cash. After Jinyoung gave me a quick kiss and sprinted back to the car, I walked up the slightly damp stairs to Wonyoung’s place. When she opened the door, she was beaming. But the smile vanished when Wonyoung saw it was me alone.
“Where’s my sister?” she said flatly.
“Had to go pick up some things. She asked me to help you.” I followed her into the apartment.
“Everything’s already set up,” she said distractedly. As she crossed to the kitchen, I got a look at her swivelling bottom. The party was not for several hours and she had yet to get fully dressed. Wonyoung was wearing gym shorts and a black cropped top. She trod barefoot through the small but welcoming apartment. Banners and streamers hung from the ceiling and a table stacked neatly with cups and an assortment of alcohol was pushed against the wall. When I closed the door, Wonyoung was all business.
“Do you still have the money?”
“Uh—” I started. “Yeah.”
“Is it with you?”
“Why would I have it with me?”
Wonyoung rolled her eyes as if somehow it was her great misfortune to be partnered with so inept a criminal companion. Her lips, which were pressed together in a firm arc of disapproval, were a deep red. She began to speak again but I volleyed first. “Where’d you get that money anyway?”
She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands coolly on her hips. Even half-dressed she was a knockout. Her black hair was a little longer than shoulder length and straight and shiny as leaking oil. Her skin was pale and smooth like a porcelain. Then of course there was her chest, amply stacked below her round shoulders. Wonyoung’s painted nails tapped against her hips, probably wider than she liked but undeniably curvaceous. She had thighs that looked like they could wrap around a man’s back with dire consequences.
“Before you ask if that’s my business,” I said, raising a finger to staunch her bubbling protest, “bear in mind you did leave the money in my care.”
“What…” she spat. “‘Bear in mind,’ ‘in my care,’ who the hell talks like that?”
“Are you angry because I’m choosing my words carefully or because you’re trying to figure out an excuse?”
Wonyoung gave me an icy glare. “It’s just money,” she said. “I started a new bank account and I hadn’t withdrawn all the cash from my old one. I didn’t want to be walking the street with that much on me so I wanted Jinyoung to hold it for me.”
“But you told me not to tell Jinyoung.”
Wonyoung’s lips twitched. “You were a little drunk, maybe you don’t remember,” She said “…and I didn’t want her to see me drunk,” she said quickly. “That’s all I meant. You could have told her about the money.”
“Should I tell her when she gets back?”
Wonyoung swallowed hard. I could see the gears working overtime behind the white cloud of her eyes. I wanted to see how much she would admit to before I brought up about the burglarized. “No,” she said slowly. Then, “Where is it?”
“The money?” I asked.
Wonyoung nodded. A few strands of bangs fell over her eyes fetchingly. I couldn’t help notice her breasts jiggle slightly too. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
“It’s… safe,” I said. A strange but powerful notion peeked from within the dark recesses of my brain.
Wonyoung wiped the hair back from her face and bit her lower lip. We were standing roughly ten feet apart from each other, she at the counter of her kitchen and I very close to the front door. “It’s not my money,” she said.
“Oh?”
She narrowed her eyes again. “You jerk.”
I held up my hands. “Hey, I didn’t take the money. And I’m pretty sure I know where you got it from.” This shook her. “What do you mean?” she said.
“It’s your parents, isn’t it?”
“How did you know?” was out of poor her beautiful mouth before she knew how to reattach her poker face. She winced and brought her palm to her face. “My sister…”
“Yes, Jinyoung is really upset about that.”
“Does she know?” she said frantically.
“Not yet.”
Wonyoung sighed. She leaned her head to one shoulder. “Okay. So, what?”
“You tell me.”
“Are you going to give me the money?”
“I don’t think so. I feel pretty bad about your parents.”
“They can spare it,” she said acidly. “Do you want to know what I need it for?” I thought about that but I realized I didn’t really care. “No,” I said simply. This pissed her off. “God, you’re so— Fine! Let’s just sit here until Jinyoung gets back so you can tell her all about it!” Wonyoung began to tromp out of sight, into the bedroom, when I raised my alternative.
“Who said I was going to tell her?”
Wonyoung stopped. “You’re not?”
“I haven’t made up my mind yet. You need the money, I guess, but I don’t know if that makes it right to keep it.”
“If you give it to Jinyoung she’ll ask where it came from.”
“True,” I replied.
“So… what?” Wonyoung asked, frowning and looking at me over an open mouth. “Are you gonna give me the money?”
“I could be persuaded,” I said.
“What do you mean?” Wonyoung asked. “You want some?”
I grinned. “No.” My eyes were unapologetically lingering on her cleavage. Wonyoung actually followed my gaze to her own chest. When she looked up, she had this rage in her eyes. “You better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking.” She said.
I crossed my arms. “What am I thinking, Wony?”
“You’re a fucking jerk,” she said. “I’m telling Jinyoung.”
“Tell her what? That I stared at your chest because you stole the money?” She stared at the ground for a half second before looking up at me from under her dark fringe of hair. “What do you… want?” she asked.
“Well let’s get one thing out of the way first. What do you want?”
It took longer than it should have for Wonyoung to realize we were making a transaction. But she got it eventually. “I want…” she stopped herself and cleared her throat. “The money. I want you to bring it to me.”
“Okay,” I said. “You took it for your own reasons. I wash my hands of that. One day maybe you can square it with your family.”
“What do you want?” she asked apprehensively. There was a note of tension that eased into an uncertain fear.
“Um,” I said. “Take off your shirt.” Wonyoung looked offended but also surprised. “That’s it?”
“No. But that’s the start.”
Wonyoung seemed to weigh herself on either foot. She glanced at the door. “If… Jinyoung will be back soon.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. Outside I tried to project a cool control. Inside I was equal parts giddy, excited, fearful. Part of me was given over entirely to the lustful query of how far this could possibly go. I knew exactly what I wanted to do… But part of me didn’t see how Wonyoung could submit to it. She must have really needed that money.
“You want to see my tits?”
“Well, that and a little more,” I said.
“I’m not going to fuck you.”
I smiled. “Wony, I don’t want to have sex with you—”
“Then what?”
“How about a titjob?”
Wonyoung made a face. “Ugh. You’re disgusting.” I shrugged happily. “Okay. I’ll give Jinyoung the money when we get back, you and I can just sit here on our hands until she gets back.”
“There’s no way I’m letting your dick anywhere near me.” She said. I looked over at the chairs arranged by the door and sat down. I hooked my ankle over my knee and sat back, arms folded.
“You scumbag…” Wonyoung growled. Then she took three steps forward and crossed her arms over her taut belly. Her fingers grasped the thin fabric of her shirt and she pulled up. I was so excited I almost forgot to say, “Slowly…”
Wonyoung grumbled from somewhere in her shirt but that sound was swallowed by the smooth glide of fabric rushing against her bare skin. Wonyoung pulled up with her lithe arms and then all of a sudden, the swollen undersides of her pale breasts dripped from underneath, sprung from the cotton like fat dewdrops. I saw the first and then the second pink nipple peek from the black top and then sink down with its sister, falling solidly against Wonyoung’s chest and giving a beautiful trembling quiver. She must have been glaring at me as she balled up her shirt and tossed it onto the drink table. But I was enraptured. I drank in just the sight of Wonyoung’s full, exposed breasts. They stood out from her chest, the beautiful nipples pointed not at me but at my forehead, almost the ceiling. The areolas were smaller that made the slope of her unfettered bosom so much sweeter somehow, it was delicate. That, ultimately, was the defining attraction to Wonyoung’s breasts. They were the budded fruit of all her womanly sweetness, a blossomed youth that was sexual and feminine. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Wonyoung crossed over to me. She stopped when she was standing only about three feet away and crossed her arms under her boobs and tried to look bored. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s—”
“No,” I said. “The less you talk the easier this will be to explain.” Wonyoung was furious. But half naked. So, the effect was diminished. I was horny as hell and my dick was doing everything it could to grow hands and undo my zipper itself. “Squeeze yourself,” I said.
Wonyoung grabbed her tits in either hand and squeezed, quickly, and dropped them. She gave an evil grin.
“Do it better than that,” I said. She sighed and raised her hands.
“You’ve just been waiting for this day, haven’t you?” she sneered.
“Oh yes, ma’am,” I replied cheerfully.
“What’s the matter? My sister’s tits not big enough?”
“About the same, but I like yours more, apparently.”
“You freak…” she mumbled as she drew her index fingers across her dark red buttons. “Spit on your hand,” I said. Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
“Spit on your hand and rub it on your tits. Rub it all over.” She licked her hand defiantly and smeared it over her left breast.
The skin on her nose wrinkled. It looked like she was ready to hurl another insult but glanced fretfully at the door for an illuminated realization that if her sister walked into the door she’d have both tits in her hands, presenting them to her boyfriend in lustful supplication. Wonyoung brought her palm up to her chin and spat in it, glaring at me. “Spit on your hand again.” I said. This time she did it without protest.
Wonyoung rubbed her saliva into her skin. “Do it again,” I commanded. “Ugh,” she said. She spat again and rubbed it over her breast. It was beautiful. The smooth sheen of her pale skin was now glistening under her apartment lights. I told her to repeat the same for her right tit.
“Lick your palms.” Wonyoung licked her palms and ran them over her breasts. She ran her hands down her chest, to her taut belly. I made her do it several more times. After a minute both of Wonyoung’s breasts were coated in the sticky lather of her saliva. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I reached down to my pants and yanked down the zipper. I’d barely unhooked the button before my dick popped out of my boxers and stuck straight out at Wonyoung. She actually jerked back at the sight of it.
“Holy…” she stammered, looking a little ridiculous, her cheeks shiny from the excess moisture of her spit. ‘Oh my god,’ she moaned. “I can’t believe you’re going to do this. This is so fucking gross.”
I kicked off my shoes and pulled my boxers down with my jeans. I stood up to hook them off my ankles and faced Wonyoung. Separated by less space than we’d ever shared, I gazed down into her muddy brown eyes. “Your dick is poking into my stomach,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Spit on your hand again.” I smiled as she glared up at me and spat what she had left into her palm and rubbed. A wet smacking sound of sticky skin arose between us and I gently pried her hands away and laid my hands on her tits.
I let Wonyoung go on glaring as I ran my fingers over her wet chest and weighed each breast in my hand. Her skin yielded to me. I leaned down and sniffed the spit on her chest and ignored Wonyoung as she slapped ineffectually at my shoulders. I gave her nipples two very welcoming kisses and she pushed me away.
I sat down heavily in the chair, dick sticking straight in the air. I asked her to squeeze herself a few more times before commanding her to get on her knees. Surprisingly she did this without comment. Wonyoung was now sitting with her head and neck more or less aligned with my lap. Her raven hair trailed down over her shoulders. She stared at my dick as it wagged before her nose. Her tits were inches from brushing against my balls. “Let’s get this over with,” she said.
“How do I do this, I’m not that big, it’s not gonna work.”
“Make it work, Wony, rub in it.” I said. Wonyoung didn’t answer. She just leaned in and rubbed her palm over the top of my cock, pressing it hard against her chest. “Is that what you want?” she murmured.
“That’s what I want.”
“You want me to rub my tits over your dick, you shit?”
“Harder,” I commanded her, and she complied. I stroked the back of her neck and humped forward to rub my balls against the sticky surface of her slick stomach. “Ugh,” she groaned.
“You don’t like my balls rubbing against you?”
“No,”
“You don’t mind that dick though.” I said, she didn’t say anything. I couldn’t help myself. I figured if she was willing to go this far, she couldn’t protest to a little dirty talk. “Aren’t you a little slut.”
Wonyoung knew what I was doing. She kept her eyes trained down at my cock peeking up through the tops of her breasts and bent low until it almost hit her neck. Then she flexed and came up again, my swollen dick rubbing down her cleavage and leaving a slimier trail of precum on her smooth pale skin. “Yeah, I’m a little slut,” she replied. “You like getting off on your girlfriend’s sister? That get you off, asshole?”
“Yes,” I said. I grabbed her shoulders and ordered her to rub her tits. “Harder,” I told her. “You want to fuck these tits harder?” she spat. That gave me an idea.
“Spit on it,” I told her.
“On what?”
“You know what.” — A long white trail of spit left Wonyoung’s lips and dribbled over the slit and onto my cockhead. “Kiss it.”
“No,” Wonyoung said. She didn’t look up. Her raven black hair framed her hands wrapped around my cock.
“Spit on it again.” A thin line of saliva left her angry mouth and missed my cock. It hit the wet surface of her breasts and she shook her chin to separate it from her mouth, finally using her hand to wipe it off her lips. “Don’t bother.” I told her.
“I can’t… I’m out of spit.”
“Then use your mouth.” I said as she continued to rub my dick with her breasts. She looked up at me defiantly.
“Use your mouth, Wony. I want my dick wet.”
“That wasn’t what you said you wanted…”
I pulled her hands away. Wonyoung stayed on her knees and wiped at the streaks of spittle on her chest. I cupped her boobs in my hands and rubbed them over my dick. “What am I doing to you right now, Wony?”
“You’re fucking my tits.”
“Good girls don’t let boys rub their dicks all over their tits.”
“Stop,” she said. “You said I could. Say it. Tell me you’re a good girl.” I grabbed her hands and pressed them to her breasts. Together we rubbed my dick in and out of her sticky cleavage. Wonyoung had to arch her back and sit straight while on her knees to let me fuck her tits. She tilted her neck back to keep my dick from banging her face. I wrapped my hands around her bare shoulder and drew her close. “Say you’re a good girl, Wony.”
“I’m not a …” she started “Then say you’re a bad girl.” She glared. “I’m a bad girl,” she muttered.
“Tell me how slutty you are.”
“I’m a slut.” — “How slutty are you, Wony?”
“I fucking hate you,” she said. I wiped some dry spit from her cheek. She almost bit me. I leaned back, bringing her with me. I still had my hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what you’re doing.” — “I’m giving my sister’s boyfriend a titjob.”
“I wouldn’t say this was a titjob” — “Fuck you!”
“Well, I’m going to. Do you let lots of boys cum on your breasts?”
“Is that what you want?”
“I want you to say it.” I said. Clearly no one had ordered her around this way before. Her anger was close to being spent and now she just looked incredulous. “I let boys cum on my breasts,” she said flatly. She kept my gaze the entire time, her tits rubbing up and down, up and down, the precum oozing from my dick starting to leave a thick, sudsy trail down her skin. I watched it ooze down her chest and groaned appreciatively.
“You let boys cum on you, Wony?”
“All the time,” she said. “Do you cum on my sister?”
“What do you think?”
“Does she let you cum inside her?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Say you’re a slut.”
“No.”
“Say it, Wony.” — “I’m a slut.” she repeated.
“Say you’re my slut.” — “I’m your slut,” she said.
“So put your mouth on my cock,” I demanded. Wonyoung’s eyes widened. She stopped rubbing her tits against me. For a moment she looked, instead of angry, perplexed. Then she looked down at my dick as if she’d forgotten what she’d been rubbing her tits against for the past five minutes.
“Can you spit?” — “No…” she said, still staring down at my cock. It was red and a little chafed but damn it was worth it. “Open your mouth, Wony.”
Her hair fell forward over her forehead as she leaned down. She bent over until my balls were smothered in her breasts and she could breathe over my cock. “Agh,” she said. “God, I can smell your dick.” I leaned up and felt Wonyoung’s puckered lips suck my cockhead. Running my fingers through her hair. I reached down and pulled my dick from her mouth. Mid-suck, I pulled a string of saliva and cum from off her tongue.
I pushed forward. Wonyoung tumbled backward onto the carpet. Her thick thighs widened to let me follow her down. I was suddenly intensely aware of how close I was to fucking a pussy that was not Jinyoung’s. Then again, I’d just had my dick in her sister’s mouth. I crouched over Wonyoung and pinned both of her hands with my own, my dick almost balanced on her chin. Wonyoung stared at it as if it would bite her.
“You don’t deserve my sister,” she hissed. I stroked her hair over her forehead and gazed into her eyes.
“Use your mouth, Wony. Make it wet. Just use your tongue. I’m keeping the money until you make me cum.”
Wonyoung shut her eyes and parted her lips, silently allowing me to slide my shaft across her open mouth. From underneath she stuck out her tongue. I popped my cock back and forth along her mouth, dragging my balls against her lips and pressing my shaft against her high cheekbone, and she dutifully licked it each time it entered her mouth. “Say you’re a slut,” My dick retreated from her face. “I’m a slut,” she repeated. I slipped my dick back over her mouth. “Say it again.”
“uhmaslot,” she mumbled as I entered her mouth. Then I pulled out of her lips and trailed my dick down her cheek and neck until it was resting on her breast.
“You’re asshole,” she hissed. “I hope my sister comes home right now and sees you jerking off on me.”
“I’d fucking love it.” Clear precum was oozing out of my cock and pooling in the hollow of Wonyoung’s neck.
“What about when I tell her what you did to me?”
I trailed my dick down her stomach and rested the base of my shaft against her clit. An expected tremor radiated out of her every limb and her protests were silenced by my mouth over hers. I slid my dick back up her stomach and watched the sticky mess it made of her curvaceous body. “I just needed to get you out of my system,” I told her. “I’m going to cum.”
“Don’t cum on my face,” she said. ‘Don’t you dare,’ she threatened softly. In her eyes was the spark of defiant seduction. “Don’t you dare cum on my face,” she spat. I held my shaft over her neck and made her grab me. As soon as her fingers slipped over my cock, she started jerking me.
“Don’t you dare,” she spat as she tried to point my cock away from her. “Don’t you fucking dare cum on my face.” She repeated. The heels of my palms dug into the carpet and I felt everything between the nape of my neck and my heels seize up. I drove my knees into the carpet beneath her shoulders.
“Jerk me off, Wony. I’m gonna cum.”
Wonyoung pulled at my cock, causing me to cum over her mouth. She closed her eyes as thick ropes of jizz splattered across her nose and hair. She cried and let go. I snatched my dick from her and continued to stroke myself, cumming down her chin and neck before grabbing each breast to rub my cum over her tits.
“Do you like cumming on me?” Wonyoung gasped. I watched my cum stretch over her opened lips and immediately squirted again over her neck. “Is this how you fuck my sister?”
“Never,” I huffed. It was true. It was never that intense. Wonyoung lay on the floor and let me rub my dick over her boobs until every string of sperm had escaped. When I was done, I sat down hard beside her and gathered myself. Wonyoung sat up beside me. I reached above us and pulled down a kitchen towel and handed it to her. She took it wordlessly and wiped at her face and breasts.
“You’re awful,” she said quietly but let out a little smile and smirked. It was weird to see her smile. I sort of just nodded.
“Okay so do I get my money now or do I have to perform some other depraved sex act on you before you give it up?”
I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Regardless, I was spent and knew in the back of my mind I had to get cleaned up — that Wonyoung had to get cleaned up — before her sister got back.
“I don’t know if that ‘titjob’ was worth the money,” I said. ‘But yeah, I’ll get the money to you.’ After she got up, I said, “And happy birthday.”
Wonyoung rolled her eyes. “Don’t even think about following me into the shower to try to exact more payment from me. I know you haven’t given me the money yet… But that would just be wrong.”
She walked across the carpet and disappeared into her room. The word "wrong" echoed in my head like thunder, and the image of her wet smile was as bright as the lightning behind it.
Jinyoung and I were making love. It was Thursday night, and it had been about a month since I'd cum all over her sister's face and tits. It had worked in a faithless and uninterrupted way, and by the time Jinyoung returned from the grocery store, Wonyoung and I had both cleaned up and pretended that nothing had happened.
I had promised Wonyoung I’d return her ill-gotten money the next time she visited, and I’d meant it. Four weeks later Wonyoung was coming to visit us, ostensibly to see the family who hadn’t been able to make it for her birthday.
Where was I? Jinyoung and I were going at it. She planted an adoring kiss on my mouth and shifted in the bed. I turned her over gently and pulled out. She scooted forward and laid her head on the pillow, raising her slim bottom to me. I got up, planted my hands on her waist, not looking, and prodded forward enthusiastically. A sudden “Yow!” alerted me that I’d mistakenly jabbed a sensitive place.
“Wrong hole,” Jinyoung said, giggling.
“Sorry,” I replied, and grabbed my offending member. Jinyoung reached between her legs and helped guide me into her body. When my head rubbed against her slit, she gave an appreciative moan and we continued our previous motion.
Later, sitting in bed together, spent but not really sleepy, I willed myself to ignore the urge to smoke. Jinyoung thought I’d quit a year ago. She was curled around my arm and rubbing her fingers over my chest. She kissed my chest and murmured something.
“What?” I asked, looking down.
“You were going to deflower my butt,” she teased. Jinyoung grinned at me from my elbow. I smiled and stroked her hair.
“Never,” I said. She looked puzzled. “Would you ever want to?”
I thought about how best to answer this. She might not have remembered, but one night early in our relationship we’d actually become almost startingly drunk together and proceeded to try anal sex. It didn’t go very well and I’d managed to get my half limp dick about an inch into her bottom before she pulled away and made me swear never to ask her to try that again.
“I dunno,” I said casually.
Jinyoung grinned at me. “I bet you’ve thought about it.”
I laughed. Well, truth be told, I had, but I never thought of asking Jinyoung to submit to something so degrading. At least not when we’re sober.
“Why, do you want to?” I asked.
Jinyoung wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Yuck. Like I really want your dick, or any dick — up my ass.”
I teased. “You might like it though.”
Jinyoung pinched my sides. “No way.” She settled into me and laughed. “I have a few girlfriends who’ve done it. Most of them hated it.”
“Most of them?”
“Hey, don’t get any thoughts,” she said smilingly, “actually, there was one who said she might like it.”
“Who?” I asked. Jinyoung shook her head.
“Oh, come on.”
She got defensive. “Why are you so interested?”
“I’m just curious.”
“It was Wonyoung,” she said.
My dick gave a throb of longing. My skin prickled at the memory of Wonyoung’s lovely breasts rubbing my cock. “You think she like it?” I asked, trying not to sound weird.
Jinyoung grabbed a pillow and smacked me. “Hey, don’t tell her I told you!”
I laughed and pulled the pillow away. We fell into a groping, tickling match and that was the last time we discussed Wonyoung’s backdoor proclivities.
The next day Wonyoung showed up early. I was washing the dishes in the sink and Jinyoung was getting ready for work. I listened to Jinyoung go to the door of our apartment and squeal with delight. She and her sister immediately fell to talking over each other and laughing. The rush of the faucet blotted out most of the ensuing mania.
As I scrubbed the dishes clean, I listened to them clatter over our hardwood floor in their heels, commenting on new pieces of furniture or the mirror Jinyoung had just purchased. They quieted for a moment and I figured they were either whispering about one or another family members or boyfriends or preening themselves in the mirror. I tried not to think too hard about what Wonyoung might be wearing. Unconsciously, my crotch did the thinking for me.
A few hardy knocks on the wood and Jinyoung were at my cheek with a quick kiss and a smile. “I told Wonyoung she could stay here and gave her the spare key. You’re leaving at eleven?” — “Yep.” — “I told her not to touch your desk.”
I grabbed Jinyoung’s fingers with my soapy hand and kissed her soft knuckles. “Thanks, babe.” She smiled and strode out of the kitchen. She and her sister exited the apartment together, their voices echoing down the three flights of stairs to the street. Then there was silence broken only by the door to our apartment building swinging open and shut. The old staircase made new protest at the swift stomping back up to the top. I heard each creak over the gushing water. I heard the apartment door swing open and shut. Then silence.
Wonyoung’s heels went clack on the hardwood five or six times until the final step emptied out into the kitchen. I turned around. Wonyoung was standing with her arms crossed and her long legs planted in black, open-toed heels. She had on, a plain black skirt that cut off at about the mid-thigh and a white blouse that was fairly conservative except for a long loose decolletage that draped over her breasts and bared her cleavage. She had her lips pressed tightly together and her thin eyebrows furrowed on her forehead. To say she was squinting would be the wrong way to describe it. But her eyelids fought hard to keep it that way.
“Where’s the money?” she growled.
I pointed to the faucet and then at my ear. “I can’t hear you,” I yelled. “The water!” I pointed at the faucet again.
“Where’s the money?” Wonyoung repeated, lower, actually, than last time. I lifted a sudsy plate to reiterate my handicap. Her white eyes flared. “It’s not in your desk.”
I switched off the tap. “Jinyoung told you not to mess with the desk.”
“You fucked my tits.”
“Fair enough.” I wiped the plate dry, taking great care to scrub every inch before setting it carefully on the rack. “How’s your day?” I asked.
“Where. Is. The money?”
“It’s safe,” I said. “Misses you. Says it’s been feeling a bit lonely.”
Wonyoung brought her hand to her mouth and bit at her nails. She was annoyed. She was very annoyed. She spat a bit of chewed nail at the floor and leveled her gaze at me. “I will stab you,” she said.
“Interesting notion,” I replied. “It gives me an idea, actually.”
Wonyoung shook her head. “What do you want?”
I grinned. “Is it that obvious?”
“I can see your hard on!” she nearly screamed at me. I looked down quickly. I was indeed sporting something of an erection. But Wonyoung was beyond being offended. “I knew this was going to happen. I was going to spend all day hunting through your stupid apartment to get the money because I knew—” she jabbed an accusing finger at my dick, “I knew you wouldn’t give it to me! This is bullshit…” She shut her eyes tightly and groaned.
“The gods must be crazy,” I assented.
“Shut up!” she hissed. Her eyes snapped open. “Give me the money!”
“I don’t have it with me.”
“Then GET IT.” She looked at me with white fury. Wonyoung brought a hand to her left breast, almost unconsciously. “I gave you…” she started. Her frown became a dark mask. “You…”
“I know, call me whatever you want.”
She shook her head, purposely crossing her arms over the obvious gap in her shirt. “I’ll just wait till you have to go to work and find it when you’re gone.”
“That would be a very cunning plan. If the money were still here.”
“You’re lying.”
I shook my head. “When we got back, I put it in the bank. I figured I wouldn’t risk Jinyoung finding it.”
“Smart,” said Wonyoung. She lowered her arms until she was holding her forearms to her waist. “You think you’re so fucking smart.”
I didn’t say anything. I just smiled, triumphant.
“Whatever you want,” Wonyoung said, grasping her thin belt between her fingers and pulling it loose from her waist. ‘Whatever you make me give you,’ she went on, dropping the belt on the floor and reaching under her shirt. My breath caught in my throat as she pulled her blouse over her shoulders and stretched it over her arms.
Her jet-black hair slipped from the loosened neck. The black bra that clutched possessively to her chest was nearly the exact shade of her hair. She reached behind herself, her elbows sticking out and then springing back around as she effortlessly unhooked the snap and slipped the straps over her shoulders.
“I’ll tell Jinyoung,” she said, wrinkled her nose as she shrugged the bra off her breasts. It dropped carelessly to the kitchen floor. The bra lay at her feet. Her fists were balled at her hips. She squared her shoulders and leaned back, her pinkish areolas tilted up to the window and her beautiful abdomen bare from the waist up. “You want me to suck you?” she intoned, arching an eyebrow. “You want to fuck these tits again?”
I smiled.
She sneered. “Of course you do. I’ll tell Jinyoung everything. I’ll tell her everything. I don’t care if you do give me the money.”
“Oh you’ll get the money,” I said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Take off the skirt?”
Wonyoung bent down and unzipped herself. She carefully stepped out of her skirt, still wearing her heels, drawing one knee and then the other up and over the fabric. She let it, like the bra before it, drop unceremoniously to the floor. She wasn’t wearing panties. Wonyoung’s small pubic hairs glistened in a trimmed tuft between her naked thighs. The light from the kitchen glanced across her flat stomach and made her skin glow. She stood proudly, arms akimbo, long legs lean and toned, open heels tapping at the floor.
“How badly do you want to fuck me?” she asked.
I swallowed. “Turn around.”
She did so. She pivoted in place slowly, giving me time to watch the way her muscles moved underneath her skin, the way her tight ass flexed and rippled between the small of her back and her taut calves.
“Take the heels off,” I said.
She bent over, affording me an unobstructed view of her naked ass. I heard her heels clatter over the floor and watched her stand up again, her legs suddenly less defined, her height reduced by a few inches. She was completely naked.
“Get in the shower,” I said. Her big eyes seemed to observe me from somewhere inside herself. Her mouth set in a firm line and she gently turned her head, her body following and padding rhythmically to the bathroom. I followed her as if I were invisible and she were traipsing alone through her own apartment. As we passed through the threshold together, she grasped the door and turned back.
“I’m going to tell her,” she said.
I was dumbstruck by her lips. They were always hard, always curving down, always dark, twisted away. Now they were lighter, without anything to harden them, suddenly soft and without guile. I traced the line of her soft neck down to her breasts. My eyes found their way back to her face.
“Get into the shower and soap yourself.”
“My tits, right?” — I nodded.
“You don’t care if I get my hair wet?” She rolled her eyes. ‘Right. How stupid of me.’ I watched her ass wiggle as she stepped over our fluffy bath mat and bent down to twist the knob. “Are you going to take your clothes off?” she asked without looking back.
I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it in the sink. I whipped off my belt and struggled with my zipper. By the time I’d pulled my socks off Wonyoung was standing in the shower running her fingers through her dark hair and frowning into the spray. She mushed her lips together and blew out the water that mixed with her mascara and dripped down her face. She wiped at her cheeks a few times until she’d cleaned her face and then reached for the soap. A generous blue glop of body wash squirted into her hands and she began to soap her tits, making sure she drew her fingers up her ribs and tightly scooped at her bosom the way boys like to see. She massaged her nipples until they were pointing majestically into the cascade. For a moment she held herself and glanced over at me, specifically my dick. She watched it hover over my aching balls as if hypnotized by her moistened hips.
“I guess I should thank you for not making me spit this time.” Said Wonyoung as I closed the door behind me and moved in. Wonyoung watched me apprehensively and drew back to the far side of the shower. I joined her, standing with my back to the spray.
“Can you get on your knees?” I asked. Wonyoung looked worriedly at my dick, her hands drawn up over her breasts and glanced down at the bath mat. “I don’t want you to hurt your knees,” I said.
“Gee, thanks.” She glared at me as she tilted her neck up. The bathroom was getting good and misty now and Wonyoung reached for the rim of the tub as she set herself down in front of me.
“Is it alright?”
“Just rub your dick between my tits…” she said. I did as I was told. Except I had to sit on the edge of the tub to make it work and not slip. I reached behind myself and braced against the toilet bowl. Wonyoung leaned forward and rubbed my shaft up through her breasts and heaven kissed my cock with buttered sunshine. I leaned back and closed my eyes, listening to the overpowering patter of water and humping my hips forward as Wonyoung rubbed her breasts over my cock head and stroked me up and down against her soapy skin.
“Is it worth it?” I heard her say under the spray.
“Yes,” I said. I opened my eyes. Wonyoung had to shut her eyes against the downpour of the water. To keep water from slipping up her nose she had to open her mouth. Wonyoung was blindly rubbing my dick with her tits, mouth open, water streaming down her cheeks, lips and chin and splattering off her eyelashes and bouncing against my chest. I leaned forward and slipped my lips over her wet mouth. Wonyoung jerked back.
“No,” she said. I reached down and sifted through her slit. Instinctively I found her clit and watched an uncomfortable shudder wrack her body. “No,” she said again.
“How much no?” I asked.
“No, no,” she replied. My index finger glided over the entrance of her pussy and she leaned back further. She kept trying to open her eyes under the spray of water but was deluged every time.
“Stand up,” I said. We stood up together. I helped her out of the tub and made her kneel on the carpet. Wet and shining under the bathroom light, she put her hand on the bathroom counter and softly went to her knees. She took her tits in her hands and presented them to me with her lips curled to the side.
“Bend over,” I told her. Wonyoung was flushed, confused. Her black hair was plastered to her forehead and clung to her shoulders and back.
“What?”
“Jinyoung said you wouldn’t mind.” I said as I caressed her ass.
She stared at me for a solid second uncomprehending and then suddenly her eyes went wide. I put a finger to my lips. “Ah, I wasn’t supposed to say anything.” I smiled and drew a hand over her wet shoulder. “Will you bend over for me, Wony?”
“No,” she said, “there’s no way…”
“I’ll be very, very gentle.”
Wonyoung’s neck seemed to swing on a hinge. “No, you won’t.”
“I really want to fuck your ass.” I said matter-of-factly.
“I bet you do! You want to fuck my tits, you want to cum in my mouth, you want to fuck my ass! You just want it all, don’t you?”
I held her gaze. “No, please…” she plead.
I leaned forward and kissed her neck. She shoved her fists against me. ‘Never,’ she said. I kissed down her neck, sucking at the water that collected in her clavicle. I held her hands back, thrilled at the feeling of her nipples swiping against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and slid my hands down her ass, clutching at her cheeks. Wonyoung had to shove her arms under my armpits to get around me and beat on my back. I easily pulled my left arm back and felt down her abdomen to her hairs.
The shower roared and filled the bathroom with still more fog and Wonyoung and I silently struggled as I rolled beads of water across the soapy surface of her clitoris. “Ever…” she groaned, her body convulsing forward, instinctively attuned to the massage of her privates. “Do you want me to stop?” I asked.
“Yes,” she whispered. I sent an exploratory ring finger along the edge of her labia and dipped my middle finger inside of her. I rolled the tip of my finger along the inner front of her vagina, searching for her spot, wondering if it was possible to find it with so much hate firing back at me.
“Yes,” she grunted again, leaning against me and sinking her teeth into my neck. Suddenly she gasped as I swung my finger along the fleshy inside of her slit. “Do you know how…” she stammered.
“How what?”
“To… to put it in…?”
I continued rolling along the inside of her pussy, my thumb gently slipped against her clit. I felt her breasts relax against my chest. “I do.”
“Do you have the money?” — “I do.”
“This is the last,” she said. “You have to give me the money.”
“Bend over.” — “Promise me.”
I looked down at Wonyoung. Her nose and mouth were buried against my neck. She glanced up at me, squinting. “You know that promise is no good,” I said.
“Jerk,” Wonyoung groaned. She pushed forward, pushing me out of the way. All of her black hair tumbled forward from her shoulders and neck and I leaned back on the balls of my feet. I traced my hand over the curve of her spine, drew it over her plump ass. Then I reached back, grabbed the bottle of shampoo and squirted it into my hand. I stepped beside her and kneeled down. When my gooey palm slipped into her ass crack she tensed forward on her knees.
“Don’t worry,” I said, “it’s water based.”
“Asshole,” she muttered.
“Exactly.”
Fanning my fingers together, I drew my palm over her crease, rubbing the thick solution over her posterior and vulva. Wonyoung shuddered again and presented her ass to me. I dipped a finger into the shampoo and gently tickled her clenched asshole.
“You have to relax,” I told her.
“Enh,” she huffed. “Then don’t put it in my ass.”
With my other hand I softly stroked her clit, swept back over her pussy. She gave an involuntary release. I took advantage. I wormed my finger into her behind. Wonyoung gave a sudden “Oh!” Then her canal clutched at me like an anemone. Generously lubricated, I had no trouble slipping my finger in to the first knuckle, then the second, and after a minute all the way down.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this…” Wonyoung groaned. Her shoulders were like the hackles of a cat. “You’re going to fuck my ass…”
Hearing her say it, I couldn’t wait anymore. I drew out my finger. Then I grabbed her hip, grabbed myself, and gently encircled her anus with the head of my cock.
“She doesn’t let you, does she?” Wonyoung said from the fluffy carpet.
“No,” I said. Her body was shaking. “You want to fuck my ass?” She asked as I pressed the head of my dick against her asshole.
“You want to fuck my ass?” she repeated.
“Yes,” I said. Suddenly, or magically, her sphincter gave way and accepted the head of my cock. Her asshole slurped at me greedily.
“Fuck my ass,” she huffed. “Slowly…” Wonyoung threw her head back. A wave of flexing muscle swelled against my dick. “God I hope I rip it off.” She groaned. Just for that I pushed another inch inside. The slimy shampoo gave me easy access between Wonyoung’s crack. “Ah,” she stammered.
I drew my hands lovingly over her hips. There was no need to hold onto myself anymore: already a third of the way inside the girl, the walls of her rectum cautiously squeezed my cock.
Wonyoung hung her head. “Your dick’s too big...” Smoothly, but probably not gently enough, I pushed myself another half inch inside. “Ahh…” Wonyoung moaned. Her little fingers disappeared inside the carpet.” How far?’ she panted. “How far is it?”
“Almost half way,” I told her. “Unnh fuck…” Wonyoung groaned as I pushed inside her. “How much money?” she asked.
“All of it.”
“I’m your slut for ‘all of it.’”
“Say it again.” — “No.”
“Say it again, Wony.” — “M-make me…”
I pushed myself another inch inside and her asshole squelched around me. This time I groaned. I felt myself resonate along Wonyoung’s wet hips.
“Harder…” she coaxed. I pushed deeper inside her. I looked down. The shaft of my cock was almost buried between my girlfriend’s sister’s ass cheeks. “Make me say it,” she gasped. I slap her ass. Wonyoung moaned. “You’re my slut for ‘all of it.’”
“I’m your slut,” she breathed. “I’m…ah fuck…” She bowed her head and flexed her thighs. She actually pushed herself back. She slowly, achingly, thickly impaled herself on me. “Your… slut…” she grunted.
I squeezed inside of Wonyoung until I was balls deep. I dragged my nails against her shoulder blades and watched her muscles shiver up and down her ribs. “How does it feel?”
“Full,” she said, swallowed even. “It feels so full.” I gently pulled out. “Ah,” she sighed. And then, mercifully, I pushed back in. “Awnh,” Wonyoung shuddered. “Not… too… hard,” she pleaded.
“Promise,” I said.
“Oh no,” she moaned, as I pulled out slowly and sunk myself back inside her. Wonyoung laid herself on her forearms and put her head to the floor. The warm mist of the shower settled over us and I squeezed myself inside Wonyoung’s tight ass and imagined her sister, fucking Jinyoung softly, and watched myself fuck Wonyoung’s beautiful ass. She made tiny sounds of relief and anticipation as I pulled myself from deep inside her, and plunging back again with more vigor.
“You got it,” she moaned. “You got what you wanted…”
“You like it up the ass?”
“Punish me…” she groaned to the floor. “Don’t…” But I was never sure just what ‘don’t’ meant. I pulled out and thrust back in. Her asshole gripped me tightly but it was getting easier to slide in and out of her.
“Fuck…” Wonyoung cried into the carpet. She twisted and squeezed the shag between her thin fingers, her knees drawn together, her feet curled under her thighs and her elbows pressed to her ribs as if trying to keep my dick from poking her insides. I kept one hand on her bottom and reached between her legs to fiddle with her clit.
“Oh fuck,” she spat as she shoved herself against my dick. It was almost too good; I almost wasn’t there at all. I was suddenly back, cock buried inside Wonyoung’s rectum. And she was crying out. “Fuck me!”
I slammed into her. Wonyoung pressed her forehead into her fists and swung her pelvis back to meet me. Over the gush and senseless waste of water the sounds of our skin slapped angrily against each other — my thighs against her glistening, naked ass — bounced from tile to linoleum tile. I shoved as many fingers as I thought Wonyoung could take up her pussy and raked her ass with my other hand. “Fuck you!” she screamed. “Fuck you for being inside me!”
I’m not sure if she came. I’m not sure if the wild spasm that wracked her tits and made her belly twitch as if a million lustful worms had suddenly ejaculated inside her, made her glutinous bottom clench and the hair on her neck stand on end, was a release or some kind of guilty vibration, but Wonyoung suddenly shut up and growled low, long and deeply.
“I’m going to cum,”
“Don’t cum inside me,” she panted. I pounded her ass again, the soap, sweat and slick mucous of her insides dripping from where we connected. “I’m going to cum, Wony” I repeated.
“Don’t…” Wonyoung grunted, utterly incapable of turning or removing herself, her upper body spent. “Do you cum in my sister?”
“What do you think?”
“Don’t…” she repeated.
“I cum inside her all the time.”
“Don’t fill me with Jinyoung’s cum,” she moaned. “I can’t take her boyfriend’s cum.”
“Take it, Wony.”
“Don’t!” she groaned. “Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!”
The cum shot out of my cock like a cannonade. Wonyoung’s rectum instinctively tried to pinch me off but I was buried so far inside her it felt like I’d ejaculated into her stomach. “Annnh!” Wonyoung growled again. I pumped harder, and harder. I shot my load deep inside of her. I fucked and emptied my seed into her ass. I came, unapologetically.
Wonyoung remained on her knees and let me squeeze handfuls of her ass. I pushed in as far as I could go. My balls beat against her exposed pussy and her asshole shuddered all around me. I pulled myself up to kneel — with my knee up I was able to shove myself another quarter inch inside, then a half. Wonyoung just stuck her head back like I’d straightened her posture. When my balls finally stopped quaking, Wonyoung murmured, “Are you done?” I slid my hands over her body, my fingers pressing the supple flesh of her back. She remained on her knees; gaze locked on the bathroom door.
“I have to…” she started. She jerked her head over her shoulder, most of her face buried in her tangled black hair. Her eyes regarded me sardonically. “I have to use the bathroom,” she said. “Number one or number two?” I asked.
“Asshole.”
“Exactly.”
I pulled slowly. Wonyoung’s hips shook again. She didn’t try to hide the relief and slight pleasure of my shrinking penis exiting her body. A trail of cum followed me out, oozing from her twitching muscles. She didn’t look at me again. She just reached for the sink and pulled herself up. I sat up, too, turned off the tap, and took the door, grabbing a washcloth on my way out and rubbing myself down.
“Wonyoung,” I wanted to say something but for the life of me I didn’t know what. She was pulling her wet hair behind her ears, glaring at the two of us in the mirror.
“I’m not interested,” she said.
After Wonyoung had finished in the bathroom. It was my turn, she glared at me as I stepped past her. I soaped down to the alternating sounds of Wonyoung maybe breaking things and asking when we would go to the bank. By the time I was done Wonyoung was already dressed and holding her cell phone.
“Was that the promised call to tell Jinyoung how much fun we had?” I asked but Wonyoung wasn’t looking at me. “I have to go,” she said blankly.
“What?”
“Jinyoung called. She’s leaving work. Our grandmother died.”
“I- I’m sorry.”
“I…” she started. She seemed to think better of whatever she started and clattered past me to the front door. “I won’t be able to sit for a week, asshole.” She said, “I’ll be back for the money.” Then her world class legs were stomping down our creaky old stairs and taking her out the door and across the street.
For the funeral, her family had invited everybody, and somehow everyone got their own rooms, Jinyoung and I included. It was a surprise to me, but then again Jinyoung and I were both adults, with jobs and responsibilities. Speaking of jobs… I was sitting up in the bed. My underwear was hanging over the side of the mattress, and I glanced at it when Jinyoung’s brown hair dutifully lowered over my tight member. She was beautiful to me in that moment: in her bra, her plain pajamas on, her hair in a loose ponytail. It was the casualness of the act. She had been getting ready for bed, had taken her shirt off, and begun to comb her hair in the mirror, when she turned to me. Quietly, she’d approached me when I’d just gotten my shoes off, and helped me remove the rest of my clothes. Then she pulled the sheets back and had me sit down. I did, naked. She crawled up on the bed beside me and kissed me, then kissed my chest, then kissed my cock until it grew hard. And then she started sucking.
She did it quietly, for the most part. The house was full, though mostly quiet now that everyone had gone to bed, and we didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves. I had to wonder why she was going down on me now, today of all day, but I wouldn’t question it, not in the middle of the act.
It gets messy. I didn’t tell Jinyoung I was going to cum and she had me pretty deep. She spluttered, coughing suddenly. When she pulled her mouth back my dick was still ejaculating. Strings of cum leapt from the tip of my shaft while driblets of it stained the corners of Jinyoung’s flushed lips. She wiped her mouth and glared at me. “What the fuck?” she said. She was angry, angry enough to curse. “Ugh,” she groaned. She coughed again.
“Babe, I’m sorry,” I tried.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said. She sat up on the bed, in her bra, her tight stomach tensed. “It felt so good,” I said. “It’s… kind of a compliment?”
She shook her head, eyes narrow “That’s so gross.”
“Well,” I said, trying to sound dignified while my cock twitched and my sperm dried on my stomach, “if you swallowed it, maybe it wouldn’t get everywhere.” Yeah, that was not the right thing to say.
“Jesus,” said Jingoung as if that explained everything. “Sorry, I thought I was making you happy.”
“Hey, don’t do that,” I said. “I’m sorry. What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I have to take a shower.”
“I’ll join you.”
“I don’t want you to.” She got up off the bed and made for the bathroom that adjoined the guest room. She came out just as quickly with a thick towel and folded it neatly on the edge of the bed. “You can use the one in the hall.”
“Okay,” I said. “Are you mad at me?” Jinyoung coughed in reply. I sighed and let her disappear back behind the bathroom door. In a moment the light was on, she coughed again, and then the shower started.
I understood her anger, at least. We had a system, and I’d blown it. My obsequious attempts at placation were always disheartening to me, because all the ‘honeys’ and ‘babies’ in the world couldn’t make me feel like I’d reclaimed my balls. It was a very real threshold Jinyoung and I were on. Not that had anything to do with cumming in her throat, though. That was my bad.
It had everything to do with where my mind wandered, and maybe why I was never relaxed with her anymore. I wiped myself off with the towel and reluctantly stepped off the bed. I’d been at war with myself for a long time, and it had only been a week since I’d cheated on her with her own sister. Yes, I was the bad guy, there was no denying that. All Jinyoung wanted was commitment and trust. I wrapped the towel around my waist. ‘You know your problem,’ I said quietly to myself, turning the bedroom knob, ‘you just can’t be trusted.’
I smiled in the dark hallway. It was true. I was a creature of instinct, but cunning instinct, and I probably didn’t deserve Jinyoung, or I didn’t deserve her. The truth was, I did love her, but it was a comfortable, uneasy love. It was affectionate, and safe. Who could ask for more? but then…
A knife at your throat.
A knife at your throat brings a lot of focus. A knife at your throat can torch your self-loathing into a sudden brick of ash, leaving you with nothing but a bath towel and dried cum on your balls. In the dark hallway, right at the edge of the bathroom, a long, sharp knife emerged from the shadows and met my neck; lightly pressed against it. It was, to put it mildly, not what I was expecting.
“Get inside,” a voice whispered.
“The… uh, bathroom?”
“Yes, idiot.”
That would be Wonyoung. I sidestepped slowly into the bathroom, the knife held firmly against my neck the whole time, Wonyoung following me into the room. She shut the door behind us, locked it, and flipped the light on. Reflexively, I had my hands up. The towel was wrapped loosely around my waist, but other than that I was naked to the world — at least the house. Wonyoung, under the light of the old-fashioned bathroom, was still in her funeral attire, minus the sport coat. The tight black blouse strained to contain the girl’s ripe breasts. The thigh-length skirt still molded to her body and, surprisingly, she was still strapped into her black high heels. Most of her makeup had been washed off, except for the thin mascara that seemed to eternally circle her eyes. And her dark, dyed black hair seemed thicker, longer now that it had ever been, like a wild mane. The full lips, the upturned nose, the familiar sneer; all of it combined with her haughty, tight body to communicate something arrestingly unattainable. It occurred to me suddenly that I was fucked, because a straight razor was in her hand, and the hand was at my skin.
The blade rose and lowered on my neck. I swallowed, “W- what happened?”
“What do you think?”
I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to answer that, but I tried anyway, “This might be because we… had sex?”
“You fucked my ass in my sister’s apartment.”
“You’re upset about that… now?”
The knife pressed against my neck and I tried to raise my hands in as unthreatening a manner as possible. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“Where’s the money?”
“It’s not here.”
She pressed the knife harder. Enough to actually draw blood. “Whoa! calm down… why would I bring it here?”
“I gave you what you wanted. It’s your fucking turn.”
“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you wanted it now.”
She surprised me by taking a swift stride forward and taking my shoulder in her other hand. The grip was tight. She was half a head shorter than me but her eyes burned up to mine with an unmistakable malice, and her hands did not waver. She was so close to my face I could have slipped my lips into the soft tresses of her bangs. The smell that came off of her was some thick but unsweetened perfume. I recognized, too, the vague smell of sweat, her sweat; in the tiny room evidence that she was human, and not entirely cold. Her breasts, unavoidably, brushed the bare skin of my chest. The two tight pinpricks I felt through the fabric alerted me to the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. In blind defiance of my fear, my cock began to harden.
She practically spit her next words: “When did you think I wanted it?”
“It’s in the bank — I told you.”
“You…” Her eyes searched mine for an interminable moment. Then she seemed to decide something. “You’re never going to give it to me, are you?” The knife between us was like a third person interrupting the conversation. Everything I could think to say was stopped by its contact with my skin.
“Of course I’m going to give it to you. The knife is very convincing.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said, without humor. “Get on the floor.”
“What? Why?”
“Get. On. The floor.”
My palms towards her, my eyes widened slightly, trying to grasp what was happening. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to get on the floor. Lie on your back.”
I took a deep breath. There wasn’t much for me to do otherwise, so I slowly bent at the knees, and went down on one, then the other. In the process, the towel caught under my right knee and fell off, piling on the floor behind me. “Uh—” I started but Wonyoung said, “Leave it. Get back.”
So, naked now, hands still raised, I slowly lowered them to sit on the big, thick bathroom rug that lay between the sink and the bathtub. Wonyoung came with me, the knife ever at my neck, her other hand digging into my shoulder. We lowered together to the bathroom floor until I was on my back, the towel splayed out beneath me on the bathroom rug, and Wonyoung slipped her legs over my hips, just below my cock, and sat on me.
“You’re already hard.”
“Sorry, can’t help it.”
“I know,” she said as she reached down with her right hand and tugged at her skirt. The fabric clung to her so tightly she had to pull at one side first, then the other, then back again, to get it up her legs. When she’d tugged and pulled enough, I could see her bare thighs under the bunched skirt. A sheer pair of black panties hugged her bald pussy. It was completely shaved, and just visible through the nearly translucent fabric. She was practically sitting on my balls, and that sight made my dick grow harder.
“Hope you’re enjoying yourself,” she said.
“I have a lot of mixed emotions right now.”
“Shut up.” She brought her right hand up and planted it beside my head. She leaned forward. Suddenly I felt the silk material of her panties shift over the base of my cock. The fabric tingled where it slid over me, and I could feel the unmistakable cleft where the panties had ridden up into her pussy. Wonyoung dragged the panties over my cock, slowly, until she reached the head, and sat on it. Buried under her pussy, my cock was swamped by the heat that emanated from inside her.
“Does that make you hard?” She asked. I didn’t answer. But my cock twitched with a reflexive throb.
“That’s what I thought,” said Wonyoung. “Rip my panties.”
It was hard to know where to look. With the straight razor against my throat, it was dangerous to look anywhere but up into her cold eyes. Her tits pushed her shirt down, until they hung over me, ripe and within reach. But I didn’t dare move my hands. You know, in case Wonyoung was crazy. I replied with a clueless, “Huh?”
“Rip. My. Panties.” The words hissed through her gritted teeth. “Asshole.”
“Wony, I don’t understand.” She dragged the razor lightly over my skin. “Shut up and do it.”
I reached up. My hands couldn’t find her by sight, so I lifted my fingers into her flat stomach. She made a face but seemed to understand it, so she allowed me to drag my fingers down her waist, and the bunched-up skirt, until I reached the gossamer material between her legs. The straps that bound her hips were barely there at all. I reached deeper, until I brushed her mound, and pulled the fabric between my fingers.
I tore them. They ripped so easily I wondered what woman in her right mind would buy such fragile things, but the pulsations deep in my cock cleared that mystery up right away. In Wonyoung’s eyes was the registered shock of feeling our bare genitals suddenly in contact, but she didn’t do more than issue a tight gasp from her mouth. I ripped, and continued to rip until the panties were in tatters. They still hung around her hips; I hadn’t touched the band; but her pussy now lay atop my cock, its lips snugly parted over my shaft.
She shifted to roll me between them. “Was it worth it? Being a prick?”
With my cock inside Wonyoung. it was difficult to answer. She leaned down until our noses almost touched. “Are you going to give me the money?”
“Yes,”
“I don’t believe you. And I fucking hate you.”
“Is that right?” — She pressed the knife against me to shut me up.
“Here’s what I’m going to do.” She reared back until she was sitting on me again. My cock was still hard, flattened against my stomach and underneath her pussy. She laid her right hand over my mouth. “Lick it,” she said.
…..
“More,” she said. I licked her palm. I licked the creases in it and the spaces between her fingers. Then she reached down, underneath her, and lifted herself up on her knees. The breach of contact between us alerted me to the coolness of the bathroom air. Above me, Wonyoung rubbed her palm into her labia. The fingers slipped in. She returned her palm to my mouth, laying her pussy over my cock again as she leaned down. ‘Lick it,’ she said. I did. This time I tasted her pussy on her hand, and my mouth lingered over the taste of her fingers. She pulled back after I planted a kiss in her palm. Wonyoung rubbed the hand into her cunt again, coating herself with my saliva. She pushed her hand into my mouth. “Lick it,” she said, more hoarsely than before. This time her thighs trembled a bit when she rubbed herself. “Again,” she said. My lips and tongue danced over her fingers. This time when she reached down, she took hold of my dick. Her moist fingers clenched, rubbing my head until the precum oozed from the slit and mixed with the saliva.
“You want to fuck me?” she asked, finally pulled my dick upright. It bulged against her belly. “You were staring at me all day.” She said. It’s true, can’t deny it.
“You fucked my mouth… You fucked my ass…” With every word her thighs contracted and released. I felt her heartbeat through her stomach, and every contraction was simultaneous with a tight stroke of my cock, like a rough caress. “You had everything. And you still fuck my sister…”
“Yes,” I said, though it was more of a groan. She leaned forward slightly, not so easy to do with my cock pressed stiffly into her. She was relentless, squeezing it in her hand. If Jinyoung hadn’t blown me minutes ago, I would be ready to cum, but the earlier ejaculation had relaxed my body. It did nothing, however, for my burning urge to reach up and pull that blouse down her beautiful chest. But she kept the knife to me at all times.
“You just want more… and more, don’t you?” She looked down.
I could see her looking at my cock but I couldn’t remove my eyes from her face, even in this state, she was gorgeous. I felt the first drips from her pussy land in my pubic thatch. “Were you going to make me fuck you?” she said. “You want my pussy? Do you want my pussy?” She rubbed my shaft against her pussy. I had to lean my head back against the tile.
Then, her knees hugging the carpet and my hips, I heard the toes of her heels clatter on the tile, she rose up; she positioned my cock straight up, and wiggled it between the lips of her pussy lips, she gasped; it made her stomach jiggle, her breasts, too, and sank down.
We both groaned as my shaft plunged in, in to her naked flesh. “Ah,” she said, as if in pain. She was wet, but not dripping. She stopped about halfway and pushed her right hand down into the carpet.
“You like that?” she hissed as she sank her hips down, forward. My cock slid along her uterine wall. Then, to my pleasure and utter shock, she bucked her hips forward, dragging my cock in and out of her, gyrating on top of me.
“I hate you…” she said. “Your fucking cock… inside me… forcing me.” Her eyes burned down into mine.
“I didn’t force you,” I said. Her pussy was so tight. For some reason I’d imagined that her being such a bitch it would only make room for a big, loose pussy. But Jinyoung’s younger sister had a tight, wet snatch. It was like a trap, and I could feel it squeeze more precum out of me, to mix with the saliva she’d forced me to lubricate her with, to mix with the juice of her own body.
“You think I wanted you?” she hissed. She clearly had an agenda, and she took to it with forceful fervor, but it was impossible for my dick to elicit no effect that deep inside of her. I realized she was trying to work me in and out of her methodically, almost mechanically.
“If you cum before I do,” she started, “I’ll cut you.” Again, still with the knife at my throat. “And tell my father you raped me. And then Jinyoung will know what a piece of shit you are...”
Wonyoung wasn’t going to cum, that’s what she was saying… “If you cum before I do?” I said, “you won’t cut me?” She sneered. I suddenly thrust my hips up, and she had to grab at the floor. I pushed my feet into the ground and thrust again. The knife could cut me while I tried but I realized now that might be inevitable.
“If you cum before I do, you won’t cut me?” I repeated.
“You can’t make me cum,” said Wonyoung.
I raised my hands up and placed them on her hips. I forced her to go down, deep down, until her tight pussy was opened over the thick base of my cock, her ass practically riding my balls. “Anh,” she gasped.
“Do you want me to make you cum?”
“Fuck you,” she said. “Tell me how badly you wanted this pussy?”
“Badly,” I said. My fingers bit into her hips. I ran the fabric of her blouse up against her ribs until I was grasping her tight skin. I made her hips swivel against me. I pushed inside her.
“What about the money?”
She leaned back. She had to keep the knife on my throat but she leaned back, very business-like, her back almost straight, while I made love to her vagina like she wasn’t even a part of it.
“You wanna give it to me now?” she said. “If you give it to me right now, then pull out. Pull out of this pussy.” She flexed her ass on top of me.
“But then you wouldn’t get a good fucking,” I said.
“If I wanted a good fucking, I wouldn’t be fucking you.”
“You just want to make me cum?”
She sneered again, the coldness in her eyes dire contrast to the heat below her waist, and the movements, almost gymnastic and snake-like, of her writhing, curvaceous body. It was her body that was built for sex; every undulation, every inch of her soft, pale skin, was meant to attract attention, meant to draw the eye, meant to force lewd fantasies.
Did Wonyoung know the men in her wake were left with no recourse but to stroke themselves to ejaculation at the thought of her wide hips under their palms, her tight ass clutching their cocks, her fearsome eyes hating them as they squeezed their manhood between her tight, moist crevices? Of course she knew.
“You’re going to cum,” she said. “You’re going to cum inside me. I’m going to squeeze your f-fucking cock until you can’t take it anymore… and, then, you’ll do it. You want to do it.”
“Yes,” I said, my hands forced her hips deeper down.
“Better slow down,” she gasped.
“I’m just getting started.”
“Oh yeah?” She reached up to her blouse. No, I thought, it’s too cruel. Her fingers slid over the slopes of her upper breasts. Her finger dipped into her cleavage. “You want these tits?” she whispered breathlessly. I didn’t say anything, but I did slow my strokes.
“That’s what I thought… You can’t handle me.”
That would not stand. I grabbed her ass and plunged my cock deep, thrusting my hips hard towards her pelvis. She bumped forward; her hand fell beside my head. Her breasts swung over my face.
“Does that make you mad?” she hissed. She leaned down until her nipple, under the black fabric, grazed the skin of my lip. I couldn’t stand it. I stretched my mouth forward, trying to catch it through the shirt. Wonyoung leaned up, laughing. “I don’t think so,” she said. “You can’t handle it.”
I didn’t like being told what I couldn’t handle. I dropped her hips suddenly, and reached for her chest. She let out a stunned “What-?” before I grabbed the blouse between my fingers and tore, like I’d torn the panties.
Her breasts freed from the rent fabric. At first, they just rolled forward, freed from the pressure but too full, too squished to leave the shirt. Still stunned, Wonyoung was pinned by my dick plunging into her behind and her hand bound to stay at my throat, so she couldn’t stop me from grabbing the torn shirt and ripping it the rest of the way. Her gorgeous breasts were freed from her clothing, plump and swollen, the bottoms still tightly trapped but the nipples, the soft skin at their sides, exposed, even held so that each bounce of her ass on my thighs, at every increasingly wet thrust and gyration, they make little jiggled forward.
“Prick,” she said.
“Did it hurt?”
“Yes,” she gasped. My thrusts were merciless now. She tried to right herself, to get more rigidly on top, but I angled my hips so that she was forced to lean forward, forced to keep her one hand planted in the tile, I hoped her knife hand was getting tired. Her breasts were beautiful, and I adored them. She shut her eyes tight.
“Do you want me to touch them?”
“N-no…” she groaned.
I thrust harder, faster. “You bastard…” she rasped. “Don’t…”
It was beautiful. The way breasts swung over me, forced to bounce with every push of my cock. It hurt her, but there was an open, hungry pout to her mouth that proved that some tangle of nerves caught in the strain forced her to like it. I couldn’t bear to see her like that any longer.
I reached up and held her breasts. Their thickness filled my hands. The hard nipples practically carved her initials into my palms. I squeezed them, and she let out a deep moan. I reached down and tore the rest of the shirt. Her breasts flopped out all the way and I scooped them hungrily between my fingers. Sweat had built up between our waists; I could feel it trickling down from where her skirt bunched up against her hips. One hand slid behind her back, the other pulled her in to me. I took one pale, puffy nipple between my lips and sucked on it.
“Suck it…” she whispered. “Is that what you want? You want to suck my tits?”
I just groaned assent to her dirty mouth. I slowed my strokes to savor the taste of her breasts. My tongue dragged over the slopes of one, licking deep between them to the space in the middle of her chest. I felt her right hand on my shoulder, maybe pushing me, maybe trying to stay steady, as I scooped the left breast towards my mouth and suckled on it, bit it lightly, tried to get as much of it in my mouth as I could fit.
I sucked harder on it, loving the taste of her, the hot, angry taste of her, and the wondrous texture of her bumpy areolas. It occurred to me, only then, at the height of my arousal and hunger for her, that I had stopped thrusting, that her pussy was slipping and gliding over me, that her left hand had gone limp — had not dropped the knife — that her stomach was quaking over mine.
“That what you needed?” she said huskily. “Needed these tits in your mouth? I know you did.” I let her nipple slip from my mouth and reached up. I took her face in both hands and pulled her mouth to me.
“Fuck you,” she spat into my mouth. She actually spat.
I wet my lips and cupped them over her own. Her tongue slithered out and tippled over mine. I thrust. She pushed. Her breasts squashed against my chest. I reached down and gripped her ass fiercely, forcing it up and down on my cock. Our spit mingled while she acted like her tongue in my mouth was there by protest. I, for my part, sucked on it, kissed her mouth, and reached for her hair. “Cum,” she whispered when our lips peeled away from each other.
“You wanna make me cum?”
“I make you cum,” she said, her face still inches from mine. She rested her breasts on top of me. “You came inside my ass.…I had to… push it out…”
“You didn’t like that?” I groaned. “You didn’t like shitting out my cum?”
“You are sick,” she gasped. “Ahn. You’re vile. You fucked me. Your big dick. In my ass.”
“Are you going to cum?”
“You can’t make me cum!” she whispered violently.
“You’re wet.”
“I’ll cut your throat.”
I got a good grip on her ass cheek. My right arm braced against her side. “You want to cum, Wony? You want it good? You want it rough?”
“Don’t—” she said. She could feel my arms’ tensed strength. “I’ll… cut…”
“Do it,” I said.
“Cum,” she said. “Ah!” She said it as I shifted my weight. She said it as I pulled at her tight ass and pushed up into her pussy with my hips. She said it as I grabbed her back and torqued her to the ground. The knife at my neck was there, but suddenly wasn’t. It clattered to the floor as we tumbled. We seemed to be a ball of wet limbs and tangled clothing for a breathless, sightless time, then suddenly she was on the ground, on her back, her fingers scratching at my neck, and I was on top, plugged inside her, and I reached down and pulled one long leg up against my body to open her pussy wider.
“Take it, Wony…”
“Ahn fuck…” she hissed. Her eyes went wide and to the toilet bowl just above her head. I pulled her hands off my neck and pinned them to the tile. She fought against me the whole time but my muscles bulged, hot with lust, and my grip on her wrists unyielding. Her open palms grabbed at nothing, her outstretched arms forced her exposed breasts up, so that their full, rippling bounty was flattened over her torn shirt. I heard her high heel knock the bathroom floor. And of course, between her legs, between her open, limber legs, where her bare pussy shed its juices under her torn, mangled panties, was me, slipping it to her, guiding my tight, insistent cock between the hungry lips of her devious sex.
“You like it better this way?” I whispered into her ear. “You don’t have to do the work. You can just let me fuck you until you cum.”
“Can’t… make me… cum…” Wonyoung panted.
I laid a wet, passionate kiss on her mouth. It was devoid of love and full, bursting with all the ravenous urges I’d built up since I’d seen her this morning. I was glad the knife was now somewhere behind the toilet, but I was plunging harder and harder into her body and I wanted to cum. Yet I refused to unless I could make her do it, and believe it. The squelches of our sex only made the hot air stink more fragrantly of two angry people fucking. I grabbed her hair and tilted her head back.
“You like it dirty?”
Hands freed, she reached down between our bucking hips. I felt her fingers work at the skirt, try to free it from my pounding hips.
“You got cum all over my skirt,” she gasped.
I reached down and pulled at it. She worked it from her side. I felt something give in the material. Something snapped. Her other hand reached down to take the clasp and open it. Then it was off, ruffled and pinned under us, like the towel and the rug and the shreds of her shirt and panties. I slowed my strokes enough to savor the curved entrance to her soft pussy.
I bent my neck to pop one of her breasts into my mouth. It was dotted with quivering perspiration. Her breath was ragged. Suddenly she reached up and clutched my shoulders. I licked up her chest to her neck and chin. And her eyes burned into me.
“I hate you. I fucking hate you.”
“You gave me everything,” I gloated to her, on top of her, my fingers biting her ass cheek and hiking her leg even higher.
“You took everything,” she rasped.
“I’m going to make you cum, Wony.”
“Can’t force me…”
“I’ll force you.”
“Force me,” she said. Her mouth now refused to close. Her upper lip was spotted with sweat; her pink tongue was writhing in her mouth. She had to breathe through that mouth, had to kiss me with it when I made her, but she couldn’t close it; the sound that issued out of it, a high but deep groan that pressed up against her flat stomach, wouldn’t allow it. Her teeth grit together for a rough instant.
“Force… me…”
“You’ll love it,”
“I hate it.”
Her leg had ridden as high as I could get it with my hand in that position. I reached under so that I was now holding it up from underneath, the back of her knee between my thumb and forefinger. The sweat running down from her calves, from the tight straps of her high heels, flowed over my knuckles and to my wrist. Our hips slapped together. Her other leg went up, the knee pointed to the ceiling. The heel scraped over the floor.
“Your dick,” she ranted. “Your fucking dick…”
“Inside you.”
“Inside me…”
“Cum on my cock, Wony. Cum for me.”
“Forced me…” she gasped.
“You forced me.”
“I didn’t force your dick between my tits.”
“Give it to me, Wony.”
“Didn’t… ah… nah… force your… cock…”
“Into your ass.”
“My ass.” She shuddered. ‘Now,’ she said. “Don’t stop…”
“Let me hear it.”
“Oh… Fuckngh…”
My dick slid back and forth, never stopping, her ass slapped the bathroom floor. She lunged for my neck. I felt her teeth bite into my shoulder. I reached up, pushed her moist back up, curved my pelvis up to meet her bucking pussy. She came silently, biting into my shoulder, her whole body a wicked vibration.
An instant later I came as well. My cock stuck bolt upright and ejaculated, pumping Wonyoung full of my cum. The thick deluge that I’d been holding back, it all came, shooting, unending. Wonyoung let out a little shriek when it happened — nothing loud enough for the house to hear — nothing that sounded pained, but a tail added to her own unleashed orgasm, something that ended her quivering and transformed it into full body squeezes. She clamped over me, with her legs, her arms, her mouth, and released all of them. If my hand hadn’t been behind her head, she would have knocked back against the toilet bowl.
The two of us shivered together without speaking, her arms draped loosely over my shoulders.
Somehow, and sometime later, we got to our feet. We gathered the pieces of clothing and the towel, into the middle of the room. She bent down and undid the straps on her heels. Then I started the shower.
-
It was the practical thing to shower together. We did it without speaking. I let her use the water first, then I came forward and soaped myself. Finally, however, it was just too much to see her splashed in water, the white suds dripping all down that buxom body. I pushed her against the shower wall, my hands cupping her breasts, then her ass, my tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She kissed me weakly, a hand skating down my back but not knowing, truly, where to go. I thought I might even feel another tingle in my crotch. But it was Wonyoung pushing me away.
“No,” she said quietly. “I really mean it.”
We parted. She finished shampooing her hair, then she stepped out and grabbed a towel from the sink cupboard. When I shut off the water, she handed me another one. She had already bound the ripped articles of clothing in another towel. I didn’t ask what she planned to do with it. The straight razor had been returned to its place.
She sort of nodded, not looking at me, and reached for the door. But I stopped her with a hand on her wrist. She didn’t say stop, she didn’t say no, she just looked at my hand, and then at me. It wasn’t really an angry look; it was tired, and more than a little ambiguous.
I started to say, “I want…”
But she cut me off with, “Yeah.” Her eyes burned into mine, without hate, but without anything I recognized. She opened the door and was gone, her hips under the white towel shifting, sashaying, into the shadows.
I shook my head. Well, who’s to say what I wanted, or what Wonyoung wanted beyond the money? I didn’t know, and other than the fact that I’m a bad boyfriend, I wasn’t going to know anything more. At least not tonight.
I went through the door to the guest bedroom, to the little yellow light by the side of the bed. Jinyoung was sitting up with her glasses on, reading a book from one of the ancient shelves.
“You were in there for a long time,” she said, looking up.
“Yeah,” I said, suddenly exhausted. I threw my towel over a chair and wandered heavily to the other side of the bed. I slid in next to her and turned over.
“Hey,” she said.
“What?”
Her voice rose. “Where’d you get that bite mark on your neck?”
Two months. Two fricking month later and all I needed is a date.
My company was hosting a large end-of-year celebration at a downtown hotel, and they were providing the rooms, food, and everything else. We only needed to show up and have a good time. There was business to be done, as well as some late afternoon seminars to attend, but the most important thing was that I needed a date. Because after the dancing and drinking, I'd have a whole hotel room to myself.
Nice guy that I am, I thought of calling Jinyoung first. But nice as I am, I’m also an asshole. It didn’t take me long to remember.
The breakup was bad. The hicky Jinyoung found on my neck began a series of questions that led to a series of shouts that led to me leaving the house before the entire family was involved. Of course, that didn’t stop it. There were angry phone calls, from both Jinyoung and Wonyoung—Jinyoung about Wonyoung and then Wonyoung screaming for her money or to get her sister off her back.
Things weren’t easy when Jinyoung and I shared an apartment. I had a head start but it wasn’t enough to get all my shit packed up and out the door. When she came home, she immediately set to tearing the place apart. She threw my toolbox out the window, and it came very close to shattering and spilling out all the money that was hidden inside of it.
I had to find someone to sub-lease my half of the apartment, which was a nightmare in this economy. I had Jinyoung’s friends calling me, leaving text messages, telling me what a monster I was. Yes, me, a monster. Well…
Comes the end of the year and I need a date for this shindig. I hadn’t even thought about it, was planning to just feel sorry for myself, drinking and try not to slit my wrists alone in the hotel room. But a chance encounter in a coffee shop changed my mind.
-
I had been sitting in the corner of the cafe with my laptop for about ten minutes. I’d been in there for an hour already, catching up on work, trying to get everything in my docket finished before the company party, when I noticed a girl come in through the door with a group of friends.
Her friends were fine, but she had a long trail of raven black hair, the unapologetic cleavage in her low-cut top clued me in to her breasts; the mini-skirt tipped me off to the ass. It was Wonyoung. For five minutes I didn’t know what to do. On the sixth minute, I shut my laptop.
She excused herself from the group to use the restroom, and when she did, I followed her in. She was closing the door behind her when I slid my foot between the door and the jamb. She started fuming even before she saw me. “Hey…” She stopped.
We regarded each other with quiet, calculating grimaces, and then, as if on cue, she opened the door and we entered the restroom together.
“What the do you want?”
“To give you your money.”
She snorted. A puff of air escaped her lips and tossed one of her bangs back over her ear. The action was adorable. “Right,” she said. “What do you want me to do, fuck you in this shitty bathroom?”
“No, but good guess,” I said.
She crossed her arms and gave me a nasty smirk. “My family thinks you’re just the sleaziest shit right now. It’s awesome.”
“What about you?”
She shrugged. “Like I give a shit. No one’s thinking about the money right now. My sister won’t stop giving me shit about you but whatever.”
“So, I guess you don’t need the money anymore?”
She bugged her eyes as if receiving some sort of revelation. “Oh, wow, you mean you’re really going to give it to me? I’m not stupid!”
“No,” I said agreeably. “No, Wonyoung, you’re a smart one.”
“Look,” she said, “you’re not my sis’s boyfriend anymore and I don’t care what you do with the money. So, uh, I think we’re done here.”
I nodded. “We can be, if you want. But I have a proposition for you.”
“Fuck that.”
I threw up my hands. “Oh Come on, Wony. Didn’t we have some laughs?”
She sneered. “Yeah, Riiight. All those times you fucked me when my sister wasn’t around? Yeah, those were great times.”
“I didn’t hear any complaints though.”
“I literally complained the entire time. Or did you not hear me calling you out, while you were cumming in my ass?”
“Good times,” I said.
She rolled her eyes. “Will you please leave? Or do you want to watch me piss now?”
“No,” I said, “my perversion does not extend that far. However, I do have a proposition for you and I ask only that you hear me out before any further profanity.”
“Fuck you.”
“Right,” I said. “I’m willing to give you your money back.”
“If…?”
“If you come to this company party with me. You’d come as my date. You’d be there with me.”
“And that’s it?”
“No, that’s not it.”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah, I thought so. You really get off on getting off on me, don’t you?” She made a grand show of searching the ceiling with her eyes. “My sister hates you right now.”
“I understand that.”
“So, what, I have to wear a nice dress, pretend you’re my prince charming?”
“You’d only be there for the drinking and food. The boring business stuff is earlier in the day.”
“Right,” she said. “And I should believe you because…?”
“I’ll bring the money with me. I’ll show it to you as soon as you get into the hotel lobby. If I don’t have it, you can walk out and leave. If you stay, I’ll give it to you.”
“When?”
“After.”
She laughed. “You think you’re so smart,”
“Actually, I thought I sounded desperate.”
“You do,” she said. “You are. You’re pathetic. Why don’t you get some other girl to come with you? Oh, that’s right. Cause you’re an asshole.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I’d rather go with you.”
“I bet you would.” She leveled her gaze at me. “When is it?”
“End of next week. I can send you the directions.”
She took a deep breath, and without another thought, just nodded. “If I show up and you don’t have the money, I will stab you in the lobby, I don’t care who sees it.”
“I believe you,”
“Now leave, I have to piss.”
“Can I watch?”
-
The weeks stretched by like they were laden with lead weights. On the day of the party, I tossed the ill money in my duffel bag. The seminars were excruciating. The small talk was boring. But at about 7 PM, when the company members were coming downstairs in their finery, my boss was already drunk, and I was waiting in the lobby, the night, quickly, and briefly, was all worth it.
Wonyoung arrived. She had a small bag with her, enough for a night’s stay, and it was taken by the bellboy without much fuss. She knew what number the room was. And she strode towards me on the wide red-carpeted floor.
She was in nothing but a straight white dress, and I mean nothing else. She did have a pair of white heels that went all the way up, but there was not a bra strap in sight over her bare, brown shoulder. Her breasts were squeezed into the outfit, that shimmered and bent the light, and the hem went to just about thigh-level. Just about. When she walked the fabric slithered over her ass. And the eyes of the hotel did likewise.
I opened my mouth to tell her what she already knew but she cut me off. “Money,” she said. Her eyes were rimmed with dark mascara, her cheeks blushed. The money appeared in my hand and swiftly returned to my pocket.
“How do I know it’s all there?”
“It’s all there,” I said.
“Liar.”
“It’s all there,” I said. “Do you want to tell the bellboy to bring your bag back?”
“If it’s not…” she growled.
“You’ll cut me, I get it,” I said. ‘Fair is fair, I know. Now, look,’ I said, I looped my arm through hers, “you’re here as my date. So, you have to make believe you’re having a great time.”
“My imagination isn’t strong enough.”
But it was decent enough. I introduced her to my co-workers as Wonyoung, which she was, my girlfriend, which she definitely was not. They all wanted to know what she did and where she came from and she smiled and nodded whenever possible, laughing when she absolutely had to, and only tensed and flinched when I slid my hand down her backside. After thirty minutes of small talk while we waited for the bar and dance room to clear, she bent her mouth to my ear. “Where’s the expensive wine, you promised me?”
“Inside,” I said.
“Your co-workers are boring.”
“Yes… Yes, we are.”
What followed would only be more of the same. My boss came over to ask me who I was with, and I happily told him she was in love with me, a woman who believed in all the great qualities I possessed, who supported me, was faithful to me, who was not necessarily prettier than her sister, but much hotter, and fucked like a wild rabbit. My boss smiled and nodded, drunk off his ass. He had to find it first and Wonyoung sneered at his wife as she gave us both a dirty look and carted him off. “Wine,” said Wonyoung. “He drank it all, didn’t he?”
We were back at the table, everyone loosened up and drinking freely, and Wonyoung was giggling with my co-worker about how smart I thought I was, and I was just laid back enough to let them have at it.
-
The four of us broke away from the group as the night wound down, and we all helped each other find the way to the elevator and up to our floor. They said goodnight and tried to look casual as they strolled off to their room. As soon as they had their backs to us, I pressed Wonyoung up against my hotel door and kissed her.
She kept her eyes wide, watching them down the hall. I could feel her body tense, waiting for them to disappear into the room. And I kept my eyes open too, to drink in the sight of her angry eyes, feel her charged muscles, while I slid my tongue deeper into her mouth.
My hand gently pushed her to the door, while my other found her backside. I fondled one curvaceous ass cheek, almost reaching the hem of her skirt. She reached behind herself and pulled me away, but she didn’t break the kiss.
Her mouth was wet, her lips was puffy. Wonyoung pushed me off. “Ah,” she groaned. She wiped her pink-colored lip with the back of her hand. “You bit me.”
“Thought it would help your concentration.”
She gave me a withering look. “Just let me in so I can get my bag and get out of here.” I smiled in the most diabolical way that I could. Mostly for her displeasure, but the motivation behind it was very real. “You’re not leaving tonight.”
Her brows knit together. “Fuck that,” she said. “I did what you said, showed up to this stupid thing, now pay up.”
“Nope,” I said. “I told you I needed you here for the event. Tomorrow morning is when we leave. How’s it going to look if I show up tomorrow and my date’s high tailed it out of there? They’ll think you were some kind of escort.”
Wonyoung looked furious. Her eyebrows came down over those blazing eyes. I had to wonder if she genuinely hadn’t known, or if my company disgusted her that much. Down below, in my pants, I hoped it was both.
“I’m not…” she started.
“You know what you’re here for,” I said. “Don’t waste my time.”
“Don’t waste your time?” she fumed. “Okay I’m going.”
“Really? You put up with everything tonight to go home empty handed?”
“I’m not spending another second here,” she hissed. “Especially not to…”
I put my hand on the door, barring her way. “I have some of your money in my pocket. The rest is inside,” I said. “You want it, you can look for it.”
She shook her head.
“You can always just tell me no.”
The skin on her nose wrinkled, her whole face joining in to grimace. “No,” she said. “No, I won’t do anything your sick brain wants.”
“It’s not my brain,” I put in. I leaned in closer. Our bodies brushed together against the door. “Do you want the money or not?”
“It’s mine,” she said.
“So, you’re welcome to take it. Inside.”
Her eyes studied mine, the wicked gears inside calculating, maybe ways to subdue me, maybe how to kill me. I could see, though, that tonight had been no joy for her and to walk out now would only compound her fury. “Fine,” she said. “Open it.”
“Not until you know what you’re going in there for,” I said.
“To get the money.”
“To honor our deal.”
“You said I had to pretend to be your girlfriend for the night,” she said quickly, spitting the words out without thinking.
“Oh yeah,” I said.
Before she could protest, I’d swiped the key into the card lock and we pushed inside. Wonyoung’s bag was set primly beside the bed. My suit and bag were on top of it. Wonyoung stalked to the bed, to my bag, and I was treated to the sight of those long legs flashing in the striped light of the blinds, the lamp inside and the hall’s diminishing radiance. The door swung shut, and Wonyoung was at the bed, my bag unzipped, rifling through it.
I let her search, closing the door. Should I lock it? I wondered, and casually strolling into the room. It was a good room the company had provided. There was a bathroom on my left, a small kitchenette behind it and running from the door to the wall. On my right was the sliding closet, with both doors’ full-length mirrors. The bed was on the far-right side of the room and the bathroom was across from it, beside the TV.
Wonyoung’s face only grew darker as she flung my shit further across the room, to no success. A gray undershirt hung from the TV, and one of my socks had even caught in the half-lidded Venetian windows. I savored the movements of her, her bare arms scouring the bag, the fine muscles beneath the skin twitching with unconcealed tension. This was the first time, I thought, the first time my proper girlfriend wasn’t sleeping around the corner or waiting for me to return, the first time her family wasn’t around to threaten me with. We were two people in a hotel room; for all intents and purposes, as far as my colleagues knew, she was happy to be here, doing the things that couples did.
My body stirred, even as I stood motionless in the center of the room. My manhood stiffened. She had stopped going through the bag. She’d turned it upside down, finished with it in a petulant fury, its flattened fabric deflated, just like her hopes to finish this without another word to me. But if her hope was deflated it did not stop her anger. It radiated out of her, making every glistening surface of her shine that much brighter. We were both lightly sweaty from the dancefloor downstairs. Some of it had evaporated in the intervening hours. I could smell myself, sort of, but I couldn’t ignore her. Her perfume and shampoo were still lingering in her hair but her sweat, a pure, natural aroma, filled the room. She sat on the edge of the bed, one leg drawn up under her skirt, one leg heading down, way down, to her white heel in the carpet. Her hemline, which had started low, was drawn up and stuck under her bottom, so half her ass was visible on the bed. Her breasts pushed at the fabric of her top, the deep shadow of her cleavage lined with sweat. Her hair trailed over her shoulders, almost reaching the tops of her breasts.
“It’s not in there,” I said simply.
She was up, she was moving. She was in front of me, breathing in my face. She didn’t shake with all that energy; she kept it bottled and bound inside. I imagined it swirling behind her eyes.
“Give it to me,” she said.
“I will.” My eyes fell over her full lips; the bright eyes that lacked the inquisitive earthiness of her sister but were filled with something more obvious, sinister, and lancing.
“Where is it?” she said. Her lips came together, puckered. “Give it to me,” she said darkly.
“Take off your shoes.”
…
I did not expect the slap. It came so quickly, one minute I was leering at her, the next I was staring at the floor. I shook myself, and cocked my head back. Wonyoung still looked mad, but satisfied.
“You can do that again, if you want.”
“You…” she started.
“Take them off.”
She remained planted to the ground, a buxom statue, a sweaty, organic embodiment of all my sexual demons. I wanted to peel off her clothes and taste every wet crevice she hid underneath them. My cock only hardened to think I had the time to do it. Provided she didn’t castrate me in the attempt. What tickled me, though, insofar as I could be tickled, was the glimpses of superiority that I caught from her time and again. She knew I wanted to fuck her; there could be no mistaking that; but did she recognize how hard I wanted to fuck her, how strenuously I needed to sink myself inside her, how badly I wanted to hold her, and squeeze her, and hear her curse me and groan? She thought I wanted her tits and ass. That was true enough. But did she know I wanted her, inside her body, her ignorant, evil little heart?
I reached into my pocket. The money appeared, slightly damp from the sweat of my body, but neatly folded in a metal clip. Wonyoung’s eyes registered the cash, but her mouth betrayed her. It was surprise that I saw. I smiled and tucked the cash away again.
“You said that was half of it.”
“No, that’s all of it. I just didn’t know how else to get you inside. And believe me, when I lose my clothes, you’re free to take it all. I’ll keep my word about that at least,” I said. “And you’ll get it. But the night’s not over.”
“No,” she said.
“Take them off, Wony.”
Without taking her eyes off me, she fiddled with her heel beneath her. I didn’t break the stare. I watched her descend, heard the clop of her heel hit the ground, then the other. Her toes slid the shoes from her feet, and slid them behind her. The heels must have been several inches, because now her nose was about level with my chin. We stood there in silence for a moment, her seething, me letting my cock harden against the fabric of my slacks. I could do anything with her, I thought. Malevolent thoughts swirled in my brain, but if I had to be honest, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.
“You know what you’re here for?” I asked.
Her lips hardened to a tight line. My eyes led down her chin to the stiff, proud neck, to her deep cleavage, and the sparkling white dress. I wanted to throw her down and make her say my name. She never would, I thought.
“Are you going to say anything?”
“Let’s get this over with,” she said.
I reached out and drew her to me. She came without protest, though still stiffly. I let her feel me against her mound, our bodies still hot from the dancefloor. My mouth went to hers. But I was only kissing her lips. She didn’t open.
“I don’t have to put on a show for anyone,” she muttered into my tongue.
“Just me,” I said.
“Fuck you,” she said matter-of-factly.
I pulled away and nodded. “Go to the wall.” I pointed to the wall between the bathroom and the TV. She went. I waited so that I could watch her ass shift and sway under the shimmering material. How, I thought, how could a man know that was in the world and not want it? And how evil would he have to be to get it?
She turned when she reached it, looking only partly confused. She probably expected me to tell her to take it off. That wasn’t going to happen yet.
“Face the wall, Wony.”
She put a hand on it, then narrowed her eyes. “What do you want?” she said.
“I’m telling you what I want, No more questions. Face the wall. Put your hands on it.”
She did it quickly enough. She turned and laid her palms flat on the wall. But she didn’t trust me — and I couldn’t blame her — so she kept glancing behind, her eyes not failing to show her trepidation.
“Bend over,”
For once she did it without protest. This she understood. This she could see in her mind’s eye. Me, wanting her, plunging into her. Wonyoung’s hand slid down the wall as she bent at the waist. The skirt rode up the backs of her thighs, up to the bottoms of her tight little ass.
I slid the skirt the rest of the way. It nearly took my breath away. Wonyoung’s bare ass was taut, moist from the night’s exertions, the delectable handfuls of her bottom perky, round. And she wasn’t wearing a strip of clothing under there. No panties. Her pussy was shaved bare. I could tell because she bent over far enough for me to see it. I reached for her cheeks and pried them apart, to get a look at her asshole.
“What are you doing?” she growled, nearly sliding off the wall.
Annoying her, I thought. “I said no more questions.”
“Stop,” she said. My fingers dug deeper into her. Was it her asshole she was worried about? I wanted to spread those cheeks to make her uncomfortable. And it was working.
“You can yell out for whoever you want,” I said. “It’s just us tonight.”
She was turned from the wall, her hands still planted on it. “Just take it out and do it,” she hissed.
Almost business-like, I thought. I gently released her, letting her ass cheeks wobble, loving every bouncing inch of them. But I didn’t do it, at least not what Wonyoung intended. I got a good grip on her left hip, and arced my hand back, and delivered a swift smack to her right ass cheek.
Wonyoung let out a choked cry. Her hair whipped as she sank a demonic glare over her shoulder, at me. “Face the wall,” I said. She did. She pushed her hands into the wall and leaned back. I rubbed the reddened skin of her ass and swung back. I laid a second smack on her cheek, making her reel forward on her toes. “Ah!” she gasped.
I gripped her right hip, and raised my left hand. “You got me in a lot of trouble,” I said mildly, and brought my palm down on her thick little ass.
“AH!” She didn’t even try to stifle her gasp.
I slid my hands down her thighs, not stopping the slow journey of my fingertips until I reached the backs of her knees. I bent forward, my nose at her tailbone, and kissed between the fleshy meeting of her cheeks.
“Don’t…” she pleaded.
I stepped back. “Don’t what?” I spanked her again.
The white dress hung off her waist and I had to imagine what her breasts were doing under there. Without a bra, she must be hanging right against the fabric, something I could see if her long hair wasn’t in the way. But she was half naked, from the waist down, all that elegance bundled up and wrinkled at her waist, lower body planted in the carpet, anticipating her next spanking. ‘You knew what tonight was about,’ I said. I grabbed her ass roughly and spanked her hard on the right cheek. This time she swallowed her cry and released a tight exhalation. I could see her calves tense. “Didn’t you?” I said. I spanked her again. She went up high on her toes.
“Nuh!” she said.
“If you were my girlfriend, you’d be enjoying this right now,” I said.
“Fuck you,” she said.
I gave her another slap on the ass. She pressed closer to the wall.
“I asked you to come to my company retreat, and you show up without a bra and panties? Not very lady-like,” I said as I squeezed her cheeks. Then I gave her a sharp underarm smack, right between her thigh and ass.
“Ah!”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I bent over her. My lips drank in the sweat on her spine, wending a wet trail down to her tailbone again, down her cheek, to the flushed skin on her rump. “Can I kiss it better?”
She wiggled me off.
I pressed close to her. My hand sunk into the cleft of her ass until I found her labial folds. Without warning, I slipped a finger high up into her snatch. She was soaked.
“Agh!” Wonyoung growled. She peeled one hand off the wall and I pinned it back with my own. My shoes slid behind her heels to keep her at the wall and I bent over her while my fingers rimmed the inner edges of her pussy. “You… shit…” she groaned.
I bent my mouth to her ear. “What did you tell your sister?”
She laughed. This close I could smell and see the sweat running down her face, and from the line in her forehead I knew that my fingers in her were not without their reaction. Still, she laughed, ass out and bent over against the wall. So, I lubed up my thumb in her sticky pussy and pushed the button of her asshole until it sunk in.
“No,” she groaned.
“Push back, Wony.”
She did. My knuckles vanished within her tightness, and she drew herself closer to the wall, her orifices nearly free of my fingers.
“Push back.”
She sank herself back onto them.
The thought of her orifices just made me hotter, and I couldn’t stand the wet mess I was making on the inside of my slacks. With my free hand I reached down and undid my belt, telling Wonyoung not to stop pushing herself back and towards the wall. I pulled my pants and boxers down, my dick flipping up from the waistband, and hurriedly kicked my shoes off, kicking it all in a pile in front of the bathroom. I came up closer, till my cockhead was rested against her butt cheek, and snaked a finger of my free hand across her mouth, until my index broke past her lips. She tried to bite, but I ignored it. And soon she was sucking on my finger, pushing my left hand in and out of her ass and pussy.
“What did you tell her,” I said, returning to her ear. I wrapped my wet finger under her lips.
“I told her you liked to fuck me,” she said. “That you’re a pervert.”
“That’s true,” I said. I rubbed my dick back and forth on her tight cheeks. “But is that what you really told her?”
She laughed again. “Do you actually think you’re getting back together with her?”
It was something I still considered, but hearing Wonyoung say it didn’t make it sound any saner. I shoved my fingers deeper inside her.
“Ah! Don’t!”
“Don’t?” I said again. “Do you not know what you’re going to do tonight?”
She spat back her answer, the only honest answer, the one we’d both known since she’d hit the dancefloor. “I’m going to fuck you,” she said.
“That’s right,” I said. “I think you’re wet enough.”
She didn’t have an answer to that. But her body answered for her. Her juices were running between my fingers and dripping down the inside of her bare leg.
I pulled my fingers out and slid them up to her waist. She shuddered. Her whole body shook. Wonyoung sank lower into her position, the muscles in her back and legs straining, but not giving out. She was built for this, I thought. She was hard in all the necessary places to let me fuck her the way I wanted, to stay bent over against this hotel wall, soft in all the best places to take me standing up, deep. I had no doubt how deep I could go, as hard as I was for her, as wet and wide as her legs could spread. But I refused my aching cock, and that lathered pussy. I reeled back and spanked her again.
Wonyoung let out a shocked growl. “Stop!” she said.
I spanked her again. “You want to be fucked but not spanked?” I said.
“Fucking… asshole…” she growled, but it sounded half-hearted, caught in the lie.
“You were going to tell your dad I raped you when I’m not?” I said. “The knife at my throat. Your pussy on my cock? I didn’t think that was very funny.” I brought down my palm on her firm cheek. Its jiggle gave me a deep satisfaction.
Wonyoung growled again, but she laughed. It was a forced laugh, but still high, higher than the growls she made when my fingers were inside her. “I would have…” she said.
I spanked her again. Her head swung closer to the wall, but she was lower now, expecting to be fucked. She couldn’t pull herself away without falling, and I was locked behind her. She had to take the humiliation.
I pulled her dress farther up her back, exposing her smooth porcelain skin. I trailed my fingertips over her shoulder blades, digging my fingers gently under her ribs, wending down, squeezing her cheeks like I owned them.
“Why don’t you call him now?” I said. I swung back and spanked her left cheek. She rocked forward. “Unh.” I spanked her again. “Do it. Call for daddy.”
“You sick…” she groaned, then I slapped her ass — her shivering, red, tight ass — “Pervert!” she cried.
I squeezed her. My fingers teased, one after the other, the line of her moist pussy. “Say it,” I said.
“Ah!” she hissed as she felt my hand leave her skin, but she stuck her ass further out in readiness. When the spank came, she rolled with it, her hair brushing the smooth wall. “Ah!”
Pressed up against that wall I knew exactly where I fit. I grabbed myself, forced myself between her cheeks, and plunged my cock as deep into her soaked pussy as she could take me.
“AH. FUCK,” she cried.
Just as lightning fast, I slid out. Her juices came with me. There was a thick sheen of her fluid coating my cock, and a short trail of it that followed when I pulled out. Inside her, even for a moment, I knew my resolve would melt. I wanted back inside her as soon as possible. Wonyoung, however, was shaking, her legs quivering, her body rocking back and forth on her heels and toes. Her ass bent farther, and farther back, her waist gyrating, twisting like she had on the dancefloor, seeking my cock.
To my surprise, she pushed off the wall and reached behind her, pulling at the white dress and clawing it off her head. She was naked in an instant, the dress thrown beneath her. I reveled in the sight of that strong, supine body, braced against the wall.
“Just do it!” she screamed.
“Did you miss it, Wony?” I asked, rubbing my cock in the cleavage of her ass. Her body jerked at its sudden contact. “Do it,” she hissed.
“No,” I said as I put my hand on her ass. “Call for daddy.”
“You…” I spanked her. “Ah!” I spanked her harder on her tight right cheek. I gripped her cheeks possessively and laid another harsh smack on the other.
“Daddy…” she groaned.
“Say you’re sorry,”
“Fuck…” Wonyoung moaned, for the first time sounding tired. She relaxed against the wall. “Sorry… I’m sorry… daddy.”
I patted her rump. Then I gripped her hip, and guided my cock, between her pussy lips, up into that hot, wet lips.
“Ahh,” Wonyoung growled.
“Not so bad, is it?” I said. “When you apologize.”
“I hate you…”
I pulled out of that lovingly tight canal and dragged my wet cock along her leg. “Say it,”
“No,” she whined.
I spanked her.
“Fuck! I’m sorry daddy! Are you happy?”
“Yes,” I said, plunging my cock up inside her.
Wonyoung let out a breathless moan. “Harder,” she gasped. “Oh, God…”
I pulled out. Reeling back, Wonyoung let out a grunt of frustration. When she pushed her ass back to me I spanked it hard.
“Enough!” she shouted.
She whirled. The sound of her back colliding with the wall was loud, a fleshy thud. She tried not to wince when her tender bottom brushed against it. Her eyes were wide, not mad but almost crazed.
Her chest rose and fell. She was breathless, her sweat forming a trail that shined from her cleavage to her clean-shaven pussy. My hands were on her breasts in an instant. Then my mouth was on her.
“Just… do it!” she stuttered between my kisses.
“You don’t want to be spanked anymore?” I said, bending down. I rooted in my crumpled pants until I found the folded bills. I pushed them between her lips until she clamped down on them with her teeth.
I pulled off my shirt, then my socks. I trailed my hands down her arms and dragged them up above her head, then I descended on her chest, slathering her soft skin with wet kisses, popping one nipple in my mouth, balancing her full breasts in my greedy palms. Wonyoung didn’t protest. She kept her arms above her head, the money in her mouth, and I sank lower. I lapped up the sweat between her tits, drank it up from her bellybutton, going lower and lower, until I was at the wet trap of her pussy. Descending to my knees, I attacked her pussy like it was ripened fruit, first sucking up the wetness that collected at the vulva, then suckling at her exposed clitoris. Wonyoung grunted through the cash. Her hands jerked off the wall.
I dug in deeper, using my fingers to open her wet pussy, darting my tongue deeper inside her. Wonyoung jerked again, then sank her fingers into my hair. She had to, I realized. It was getting harder for her to stay on her feet. I listened to her groan again through the cash and let her unconscious sounds guide me further into her vagina.
I drank her up, what came pouring out of her, and it was danker than her sweat, unmistakeable vaginal fluid, thicker and pungent. Wonyoung ground her pussy into my face. I was so involved I didn’t notice her leg on my shoulder at first. But I felt it when the heel dug into my back.
Wonyoung pressed my head deeper between her leg, tilting her hips up to force more of herself into my mouth. She lifted her leg to steady herself, opening herself up wider. The cash tumbled from her mouth and hit me on the head. It fluttered to the ground, forgotten, when Wonyoung gave her first scream.
Like a lot of sounds Wonyoung made, it was hard for me to tell if this one was pleasure or exasperation, but suddenly she was sawing her pussy back and forth on my lips, insistently rubbing her clitoris on the soft indent in my upper lip. My tongue lapped at her, diving into her. The flood of her juice made me spit some back. It washed back over my mouth, covering it with sticky residue.
My cock was stiff as a pole between my legs. I reached down and gave it a firm squeeze, then ran my hand lovingly up the inside of Wonyoung’s knee. She slid down the wall slowly, the leg that was bent over me taking some time to roll off my shoulder. Cock in hand, on my knees, I presented it to her.
“You’re going to suck this now,” I said.
Wonyoung was past the point of arguing. She wiped her hair out of her eyes and leaned forward. I grabbed her shoulders first, her chin. I tilted her face up to mine. What I saw in her eyes was an exhausted sullenness, still the smoldering rebellion.
“Do you want to taste yourself?” I asked.
My tongue was out and her lips were on it, sucking up her own juices, letting her own stickiness coat her soft lips. I broke away and put my palm gently at the back of her neck.
Wonyoung’s lips wrapped around my dick.
I leaned back. I groaned deeply, at every fervid lick. She lapped at the slit, slathering her tongue around the swollen head, then took my member deeper to the back of her throat. Like a pro, she reached down to cup my balls.
I balked at the first sound of a gulp. “Don’t swallow,” I said. “Spit it out.”
She gave a rude noise and suddenly my balls were coated with precum and her saliva. Very soon the wetness was dripping from the base of my shaft to the floor, and Wonyoung’s fingers were massaging my balls, squeezing them just hard enough to make me groan.
She bobbed down lower. Her hand pushed my stomach, and I went back, my knees folding under me. Wonyoung crawled forward until she was on top, her throat opening above my cock until her lips were buried in my pubic bone. I twitched, and my cock bulged, and I had to pull her off or I would have cum right then and there. She came up gasping.
Her eyes were so wide I could see the whites in them under her long black lashes. She was mad, yes, but she was always mad at me; her nostrils flared as much from anger as from having her breath choked off by my wet cock.
“You like that?” she said proudly. “That make you feel big?”
I sat up on the floor, eye level with her. “Get on your hands and crawl to the mirror.” With only an eyebrow she squeezed all her contempt into that look. “Prick,” she said.
“Crawl,” I said. “Let me see that tight ass wiggle when you do it.”
She scowled, but she leaned down to the floor just the same. “Is that what it takes to make your dick hard?” she said.
“You would know.”
Wonyoung crawled, on her hands and knees, to the sliding closet and the full-length mirror. I watched her pass, every sweaty muscle on her lithe, slinking form gliding. When her ass moved past, I saw how red both cheeks were. She would be sore tomorrow, maybe even bruised. I remembered how long it took for the bite on my neck to heal and thought it might have been an even trade. That wasn’t true, but it made me feel better.
Just like it made me feel better to stand up and follow Wonyoung’s slow crawl to the closet mirror. My eyes travelled from her swaying rump to her body in the mirror. And her eyes were watching me. Her full tits were full on display. The tight ass on her rolled each time she drew up a knee to travel closer to the far side of the room. She didn’t say another word when she reached the mirror, just waited on her hands and knees for me to arrive.
I made her spread her legs. Then I kneeled down behind her.
My cock was hard and red, slick with her spit and the cum from her pussy. She was so wet it took little more than an insistent push for me to enter her. And when I did, I got to watch Wonyoung’s face as it filled her up. It made her mouth tilt down, in not quite a frown but a stiff little moue. And she got to see my smile as I kneeled behind her and placed my hands on her ass. I fucked her, and mounted her and mounted her, slowly, slowly wedging myself in. Wonyoung’s mouth widened, her shoulders broadening, her chest jutting out. The muscles in her neck and clavicle pulsed, then became more prominent as she took the weight on her arms.
I liked her on her knees. I would have said as much to her, but she knew that already. “See? That’s hard.” Then I spanked her.
She hadn’t expected it, but this time she got to see it. Her body rocked forward; her tits bounced against her arms. And I got to see, to my surprise, her shut her eyes and press her lips together, not wholly from pain but from something else, something that made her frown very much like pain, cross her brows very much like she was trying to expel my cock from her body, but something very much like she endured as much knowing what came next.
“Fuck me,” I said.
Her eyes opened slowly in the mirror. She leaned towards it, slowly pulling herself off my dick. Her thick pussy lips eased from my cock, leaving a glistening coat on my naked shaft. She pulled herself slowly and slowly, all the way until my head was just hanging on the tip of her pussy lips. She left it quivering there, her bent back shivering; not from the cold; there was enough heat radiating off the both of us to make a whole new layer of sweat burst from our bodies.
I spanked her.
Wonyoung cried out and drove herself back down on my cock. The jolt to my senses radiated from the base of my member to all the nerves in my body, and Wonyoung let out another cry when her tailbone impacted with my pelvis. Her eyes weren’t open anymore.
“Fuck me,” I said.
Wonyoung slid off my cock, this time on unsteadier limbs. She tried to speed it up, and it would have felt so much better if she had, but I gripped her hips fiercely and made sure she did it slow, slower even than the first time. This time I held her at bay, with my cockhead balanced at the outer edge of her pussy. With my other hand I wet my middle finger in her leaking sex and plugged it into her asshole. She bit her lip, but didn’t protest. I shoved it farther in, almost losing it up to the second knuckle. I let go of her hip and spanked her again.
Wonyoung cried out. She nearly bounced forward on my dick but I held her hip and pushed in tighter, grinding my dick deeper and deeper inside her. She barely muffled her breath, suddenly letting out a sharp, “Ah. Ah!”
“Fuck me, Wony” I said.
She slid off my cock like an uncoiled spring. I spanked her hard, my finger deep in her asshole. She drove herself back down on it. She buried me in her sopping sex. She was so wet now that her fluid was dribbling down my balls. I wormed my finger deeper into her asshole, until the only thing stopping it was the rest of my fingers. I thrust my hips, and Wonyoung thrust back until her ass mashed against my palm.
I pulled my finger out to sink my cock deeper inside her. She gasped when I curled my fingers over her hips. She pulled herself towards the mirror and shoved her body back onto my cock. She thrust so hard her breasts shook, her hair snapped, but the eyes stayed shut, clamped. I spanked her.
“Harder,” she grunted. I spanked her again.
“Harder!” She pulled off me and slammed her pussy down on my cock. I slapped her ass so hard my hand stung. ‘Ah!’ she growled. “Harder!” I spanked her again and she backed up on my cock, until she was drawing it in and out of her, and the thick sound of our mingling wetness made rude squashing and smacking noises.
I barely thrust, letting her do all the work, pistoning herself back and forth on me. Her hips were locked under my palms, ensuring that she always came back to my hard, straining member. I slapped her ass, spanking her with every downthrust. Wonyoung’s screams for harder melted into guttural cries that built in intensity. She was bouncing herself on my dick, lost to the world, moaning, screaming.
“Is this what it’s like to be your girlfriend?” she hissed.
I held onto myself as long as I could, letting the girl work her wicked power on my body, trying to hold myself back as well as I could, but it was only a matter of time. Just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore her pace dropped off, and she arched her back, driving herself up and then down on my cock, instead of back and forth. She whipped her face up to the ceiling.
“Don’t…” she said. “Don’t pull out…”
I did the exact opposite. I lunged forward, forcing Wonyoung up on her knees. Her hands wildly thrust out in front of her, bracing herself on the mirror. Suddenly we were pressed together, up against the full-length mirror. I slid my hands around her chest and squeezed her breasts, hard. I had enough strength left to angle my hips and shove up, deep into her pussy. Wonyoung cried out.
“Open your eyes,” I said. Wonyoung’s eyes fluttered open; her mouth wide as she watched my face. I thrust her again and again against the mirror. Her body fell back against mine.
“Watch me cum inside of you,” I said.
“Ahh.” She moaned.
The rest of her response rose higher, breathlessly higher, as I came hard, and spilled my seed. She felt my balls twinge and I unleashed my thick ejaculate deep inside her pussy. Wonyoung was grinding herself down on me with extreme prejudice. For every spurt she pumped down harder, bouncing herself on me without ever pulling up too far. She kept me in her, rolling her hips around the base of my cock to milk her own panting climax.
“You never ask,” she moaned.
I sunk my teeth into her shoulder. She arched her neck back. Our bodies rolled in twisted motion, our sweat mingled, the stench of our bodies burning together steaming up the mirror. Her hair was thick and matted stuck to the skin of my neck, and her bare pussy lips ate up my cock, pressing harder and harder, her legs opening wider to fit me further inside while my balls clenched and continued to force my ejaculate up her canal.
“I’m going to fill you up,” I breathed into her ear, “and when you get my cock hard again, I’m going to do it again…” My dick swelled as I thrust. Her breath caught in her throat. “And again…” I pulled down and plunged up again. “And again…” Wonyoung’s hands left sweaty smears down the mirror’s face. The closet wobbled each time we pushed. “And again,” I said, and she grunted. “And again,” and she moaned.
Each time I spoke I thrust harder, and my dick stayed ramrod straight in her body, even as the cum dripped out of her and ran thickly off her lips and over my aching balls. I spanked her.
“Unh,” she groaned.
Her ass tightened and tingled under my palm. “Unh!” I spanked her again, my other hand leaving her breast to wrap around her stomach, forcing her down on my cock each time the spanking bounced her to the mirror. ‘Unh!’ she grunted. “Ahn! Ahh. Ahn. AHHN.”
Together we slid off the mirror. The perspiration on her tits and belly were enough to smear our reflection on the glass. She dropped to all fours again, me firmly planted inside her. I had begun to soften, but I wouldn’t leave her sopping pussy.
I let my cock slip in and out of her as I continued her spanking, letting them land rhythmically, gentler than before, in time with her breaths. All the while I watched the soaked space between her legs, the base of her pale ass cheeks red and smeared with sweat and our cum. At length I popped out, my dick softened but far from flaccid, still half-turgid at the sight of Wonyoung prone beneath me, and the grace of her body’s lithe muscles. I reached down to caress the thick fluid that collected at the lips of her pussy. Wonyoung hissed and leaned forward. I slid my fingers in. Her pelvis rocked back against my hand.
“Hard again,” she said.
I could no longer see her face in the mirror but I could practically hear the sneer that came with it. “Like you could get it up. You just blew your load inside me. You’re done. Let me get up and wash your cum out of my pussy.”
I rolled my fingers inside the front of her pussy lips. She shivered, her ass jiggling. “No, I think I’m going to let you squeeze me out one drop at a time.”
Without another word Wonyoung’s butt cheeks clenched and she thrust her hips out. I watched her pussy lips tighten over my hand, and squeeze a thimbleful of white cream from her slit. Her legs relaxed, and then she did it again. Both times she released a soft sigh as her tight pussy clenched on my fingers. Despite her orgasm, her body was still aroused.
“If you’re going to wash, I’m going to make sure you wash every one of your dirty little holes…” I murmured.
I pulled my fingers from her snatch and drew my fingertips up her crack. Her skin twitched, dancing away and then to my glistening digits. I found her anus and teased it with my fingered until I could shove two fingers inside with minimum difficulty. Her rectal muscles clamped down, but I was lubricated enough to slide deeper, and deeper.
Wonyoung let out a low mewl.
“If you’re so obsessed with my ass…” she groaned. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is? You’re done. Let me go wash so I can get the fuck out of here.”
“I got a better idea. Why don’t I put my mouth where your money is?”
I pulled my fingers out of her. I leaned down, gripped her ass cheeks with both hands and spread them apart. While Wonyoung was still yowling about that I brushed the tight bud of her asshole with my lips, and then I kissed it.
Wonyoung jolted forward as if I’d stuck her tailbone in an electrical socket. But my fingers bit into her soft flesh and kept her from wriggling free. My tongue darted out — and I won’t lie, it didn’t taste like peaches and cream; but the tight squirm of her muscle, the sudden reeling of her hips, the bewildered tone of her screech, was worth it. “Eugh!” she cried. ‘You pervert!’ She said it once more; hissed it, rather. “You sick pervert! You like that? You like to eat my ass? I bet you want to stick your dick in that again.”
I gave her asshole a big fat kiss and pulled back. “I know that’s right where you want me, Wonyoung.”
“Not gonna happen,” she said. She tried to pull away again, on her hands and knees, but I held her hips. It didn’t really seem like she tried that hard anyway.
“Your limp dick couldn’t even if you tried.” She said.
But she was wrong about that. Her pussy was wet and her body writhed at my touch and already I was hard again. I wiped my mouth on the back of my wrist and angled my cock towards her juicy ass. Lovingly, I brushed it up that winding curve.
“Is that right?” I said. “Tell me, do you think you can take the whole thing?” The muscles in her back rippled like a startled pond where I brushed my palm against it. I was growing even harder, and Wonyoung’s shoulders were shaking.
“Your little dick?” She laughed. “Please.”
“Yeah?” I said. I grabbed hold of my dick and slathered the wet head in the clear honey that dribbled from her slit. “My little dick huh?” I slid it between her tight, puffy pussy lips. I pushed and pushed, filling her again, taking my time, letting my blood course through my cock and widen me to my full girth again, straightening my cock and getting it tight and hard as I led it, slow inch by soaking inch, to the top of her uterus.
“Ah. Fuck...”
“Since it’s just a little dick, you shouldn’t have a problem fitting inside your big ass.” Wonyoung’s face suddenly appeared over her shoulder. My fresh bite marks were just beneath her burning eyes. “I do NOT have a big ass.”
“No,” I said. I pulled out of her. Her pupils temporarily rolled back inside her head. With my hand, I guided my cock up to that tight brown button hidden between her cheeks. ‘You have a beautiful ass though’ I said. “But I think it’s just the right size.” I rubbed the head against her asshole. “Why don’t we give it a try?”
Wonyoung’s hips must have been on a different wavelength than her mouth, because her pelvis curled and fell, rising like a sultry snake.
“Fuck you.”
I gripped her haunches and pushed. Her asshole was tight. “C’mon Wony. Don’t make me beg.”
“I do NOT have a big ass.”
“Why don’t you let me and my small dick decide on that?” I said. “Maybe you’ll barely even feel it.” With enough pressure I had managed to squeeze my head partway into her asshole. Her hips shook beneath my steadying palm.
“Anh,” Wonyoung moaned. “You’re obsessed with my ass.”
“Sure am,” I said. I pushed harder; she leaned back on her knees. “I’m obsessed with your tits, your ass, and your dirty little mouth. Open up.”
“Give it up,” she said. “I can still taste your cock at the back of my throat. Pull it out and get off me.”
“Not yet,” I said. “I haven’t given you the ass fucking you wanted.”
“I don’t…” she started, but I had my first inch inside her, and that choked off the rest of her words. “Ah…”
I squeezed her buttocks. “Ease up,” I said. “Let’s see how much you can fit.”
“Nuh…” she said. “No…” Her sphincter relaxed slightly, letting another half inch of me slide up her butt.
“I’ll push in,” I said, “and pull it out. And when I’m done, I’ll cum up your ass, and you can wash that out too.”
“No…” she groaned. She lowered her head. All that wet and tangled black hair fell over her shoulders, sliding off her neck and hanging to the ground. Her anus relaxed a little more and I plunged my wet cock further inside her tight rectum.
“Ah. Ahhn…”
“Think you can take the whole thing?” I said as I pushed in deeper.
Wonyoung grits her teeth and pushed air through her cheeks. She didn’t say another word. She bent forward on her hands and leaned back, and I retreated some, gave her tight ass a reprieve and a caress, and then gently slid forward again.
“Your sister said you were a real slut for an ass fucking,” I said darkly, watching my cock disappear inside Wonyoung’s butt cheeks. Her sweltering tightness was making my dick even harder. With the flat of my palm, I scooped the sweat from her back towards her cheeks, letting it trickle down her crack, then using it to soak my shaft as I held it and jerked myself into her asshole.
“Ah…” she whimpered. “She didn’t… tell you… shit…” she said.
“Pretty trusting of her,” I said, “telling her boyfriend what a slut her little sister is. Do you want me to stop? How’s that little dick?” I was halfway inside her and I could now let go of my shaft, letting Wonyoung’s muscles squeeze me deeper. I laid my hands on her ass and gave her another gentle spank.
“A-ha…” Wonyoung gasped.
“Good thing I’m such a gentleman,” I said. I reached up between her legs and found her clit. Slowly… I rolled the engorged button back and forth with my fingered, her juices soaking down to my knuckle. I slid my thumb lightly over the line of her slit. “Otherwise, I might take advantage.”
“Shut up,” she groaned. Her head rose with each push of my cock, each circle of my finger, and each gentle grazing of my thumb. I laid another soft spanking on her right buttock. “Stah-stop…”
“Do you really want me to stop, Wonyoung?” I said. “Or do you want me to fuck… your slutty…” I squeezed into her with my hips, “little ass. Can you take the whole thing?”
“I can take it…”
“Deeper?”
“Deeper…” she groaned.
Her whole body shook like she was about to have a fit. I couldn’t stand seeing those perky tits in the mirror, so I leaned forward and cupped them. They rose in my hand, the nipples zig-zagging in my palms. I bucked my hips, gliding my shaft up her colon. “Anh… f-fuck…”
“Deeper.”
“That’s a good girl.”
My stomach finally rested against her buttocks. She’d taken me all the way, the full length of my cock, every inch now stuffed securely in her quaking, writhing anus. I flexed my penis inside her, feeling the precum squirt, and Wonyoung uttered a sharp cry. We both rested for moment. I massaged her tits, rubbing them up and down her moist chest. Her nipples were hard as diamonds. I tweaked one; Wonyoung bit her lip and groaned. Then I pulled myself gently out, about halfway, before guiding it back into her hot depths. ‘Good thing your sister was wrong about you,’ I said. “I’d feel bad if I was fucking the slutty sister. She couldn’t help herself.”
Wonyoung seemed to struggle to find her words. My left hand still groped her tits but my right hand gone back between her legs to play with her pussy and clit. Wonyoung’s hips were alive with squirming sharp and herky jerky twists.
“I am not a slut,” she said.
I spanked her for that. “Where can you taste my cock, Wonyoung?” When she didn’t answer right away, I spanked her again when my cock was as deep inside her ass as I could fit it. I felt the spank resonate on her skin, and the vibration made my cock buzz inside her. Taking the cock and the spanking at once made Wonyoung’s ass writhe beneath me and her upper body swing lower to the floor.
“In my mouth…”
“Who went up to my hotel room without a bra or panties?” I drove my cock inside her and spanked. We both shivered.
“I’m not… a slut” she whined again, taking me up her ass.
“Whose cum is that I can feel leaking out your pussy?” I spanked her.
“Yoursss…”
“Whose cock is up your butt?”
Wonyoung whipped her hair back. She nearly screamed the words to the wall.
“My sister’s fucking boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend,” I said. “Does that turn you on?” In response to my push, she opened up her anal muscles and let out a throaty groan. “Do you like that I can’t keep my dick out of you?”
She growled. “I don’t care where you stick your dick.” I thrust hard and she bent her elbows. “Ahn… fuck!”
With an audible squelch I pulled out of her. The thick coating on my cock was from the cum I’d unleashed inside her pussy, the new precum slathering my head and glans, her vaginal juices and sweat and more than that. I watched it drip off my cock and from her anus for a moment while she remained prostrate on the floor. I grabbed her hip; she tried to swing me off but I pulled her to the side. It didn’t take much strength at all to roll her on her back. She hardly fought it at all. Her perky tits were heaving, her body covered in sweat, her hair plastered to her face.
I crawled up on top of her, my dick slapping against her tummy. My mouth found hers, and we kissed furiously. Her hands found my dick and started jerking me. Hard and faster. “Not yet,” I groaned into her mouth.
“You’re gonna cum,” she said. “I can feel it...”
“Get up on the bed,” I said. “I’m going to cum in your ass.”
“No,” she groaned.
“You’re going to take it, Wony.” I growled back.
“You’ve cum enough,” she said, refusing to let go of my cock. She pumped it faster, and faster in her hand. My fingers wrapped her wrist like a vice and flung her off. She didn’t miss a beat, grabbed me with the other hand and kept pumping, a cruel smirk on her face.
I swatted the hand away. Panting, I got up on my knees. Her chest heaving, my eyes barely able to tear themselves away from the sight, I grabbed her arm. She didn’t come easily. I had to pull her; I had to heave her up, and she slapped at me and tried dodging me all the way; but I got her up on the bed and I rolled her on her back. She locked her legs together.
“Make me,” she said.
I pried them apart. That beautiful tight pussy looked sweet as heaven with its vertical smile but I was after the road less travel. I tilted her hips up until I saw her brown eye. I gripped my lubricated dick in my hand and rubbed it against her asshole. “Unh…” she groused.
I could actually see the twisted upturned nose this time, her folded brows. Her hands still pushed against me but her anus opened up. Before long I was pushing up inside her like her muscles were coated in grease. More or less, they were.
I rolled it up inside her until my balls were dangling on the mattress edge. Wonyoung grunted all the way. “Unh… uhh… unnh.” This position was a lot more uncomfortable for her, and her angry eyes told me so, but there was a hunger in those angry eyes that jolted and flared each time I retracted and slid myself back in. And from this position I now had full access to her pussy.
Better than that though, best of all, was that on her back, my dick up her crack, Wonyoung no longer could brace herself on her hands and knees. Her legs were in the air, her arms wide open on the bed. She couldn’t claim submission here; her limbs were free to flail and strike me as she pleased. But both arms and legs stayed open and limp, as she watched me spit and apply them, in vibrating circles, to her engorged clitoris.
“Fuck… you…” she groaned.
My balls were begging for release. My shaft was thick and tight inside her. But I nearly made myself blind trying not to cum. I slipped a finger and then two, up Wonyoung’s streaming cunt and she kept screaming, groaning, taunting me, gyrating her hips to pull herself up and down on my cock.
“Just cum… I know you wanted to.”
All pretense to gentleness in her ass was gone. I was thrusting myself in and out of her rectum like a racer pounding for the finish line. Wonyoung’s legs widened, her thighs clung tightly to my sides, her toes curled suspended above the bed. The bed slammed the headboard, the coils squeaked. And she reached out to brace herself, her palms on my stomach, not to stop me, to keep her body steady while her belly rolled and undulated. Her irises rolled back in her head till I saw the fluttering whites of her eyes.
“You first, Wony,”
“N-no…” she stammered out.
Then, sweat coating her forehead, her hair fanned wildly all about her head, she cracked a twitching, feeble grin.
“Jinyoung… said you were… such a nice guy.”
I thrust deeper up her asshole. “I do,” I panted. I was coming to the edge as I watched Wonyoung’s juices flow over my knuckles.
“Balls deep in my ass,” she grunted. ‘You want to see me cum?’ Her mouth hung open, her tongue bright pink beneath her white teeth. A trail of clear saliva left the corner of her lips. “You want to see me cum on your fucking cock?”
“Cum for me, Wony.”
“Grab my tits,” she groaned. I slowed my strokes and reached out, my hip pistoning slower to bend forward. I took two handfuls of those perky tits. Wonyoung’s hands splayed flat on top of mine and she arched her back.
“Harder…” she grunted. I plunged deeper, not faster, pulling out, then bucking my hips against her pelvis.
“Ahh… It hurts,” she grunted, but didn’t tell me to stop. “Squeeze me,” she said. She repeated it: “Squeeze me.”
I squeezed her tits. Sweat burst from under my arms and on my forehead. I was at the end of my rope. I had to cum in this girl. She was gorgeous, wet, writhing, legs wide open and her butt plugged tighter. “Cum...” I said.
“Can’t… force me,” she said.
“Cum with my cock up your ass, Wony.” I arched my hips up. Her feet twitched, toes curling…
“Not a… slut,” she grunted.
I squeezed her tits. “Cum for me,” I said. “Show me what a good slutty little sister you are.”
“Anh,” Wonyoung grunted as I slid my left hand down her flat tummy and laid my thumb gently on her fat pink button. She hissed and bit her lip.
“Give your sister’s boyfriend a show, baby. Cum for me.” I punctuated each word with a smooth thrust into her tight asshole.
“Ah. Ah-ahhhh,” Wonyoung cried, rubbing her pussy against my hand and the fingers dancing over her clit.
“You know how badly I want to cum inside you. Just give it up,” I groaned.
Wonyoung shoved the fingers of her right hand into her mouth and began sucking and biting on herself. Her left hand cupped her breast. “Ahh god, you fucker…” she groaned. “Don’t…” she started. “Don’t stop. Don’t… don’t… don’t—”
“Give it to me, Wony,” I grunted. “Be my little slut.”
“Nah…”
“Be my pretty little slut.”
“I’m not… a slut,” she muttered, back arching, forehead shining.
“My slut.”
“Oh God!” she gasped. “Annh!”
“Yes,” I groaned. “Yes— Yes— Yes—” She grabbed my hips, and grabbed my sides. “Now,” she commanded. “Cum in my ass, you asshole!”
When she felt the initial spurt of my cum, she let out a full throated scream. It wracked her body and made her belly dance. She threw my hand off her clit and ground her ass way down on my cock, her ass tensing, toes curling. My ejaculate was nothing compared to the first, but her climax came like an operatic crescendo. She wriggled on me, letting the weight in her rectum tingle in her tightness, her clitoris engorged, and she screamed. She tightened every muscle on her body, every beautiful muscle. And she came. She came so hard I was almost frightened. But I’ve got a soft heart.
After I pulled myself out, she practically ran to the bathroom. It shut hard and stayed closed for a long time. I heard the shower, I heard her washing, and I heard the toilet flush. And I sat on the bed, stinking, wet and my balls limp on my inner thigh.
After more than a half hour, she emerged from the bathroom, steaming wet, wrapped in a towel with another wrapped over her head. She picked her way, queen of dignity, over the mess of clothes on the ground and pulled the money from the pile. She counted it.
“The bathroom’s free,” she said simply.
I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure she would be there when I finished, or even that my clothes and bag would be. But I was coated in enough residue to never mind that for the moment, and took my time cleaning, took my time in the shower thinking about Wonyoung, her body, and us — whatever that was.
I emerged from the shower to a quiet room. The one lamp was on, giving off a dirty yellow glow in the corner, and it smelled now of a mixture of dirty sex and freshly washed bodies. Wonyoung was a dark shadow under the covers, her wet hair on the pillow furthest from me.
I sat down on the bed. “Are you sleeping?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. Soon, I was too.
Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up. There was a warm body beside me, almost curled against me. The breasts rose and fell on my ribs, the nipples rolling. And she felt good, whoever she was. So I slid my fingers down her back and grasped her tight buttocks.
“No. I’m so sore…”
“Did I hurt you?”
“You always hurt me,” she said. “You’re always rough with me. That’s how you fuck me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“No, you’re not.”
I noticed that she hadn’t pulled away from me, even as drowsy as she was. Tentatively, I slid my hands up her shoulders, up her back. “Don’t,” she warned.
“I’m not going to fuck you,” I said. “I’m just…”
“Just go back to sleep,” she murmured. “I’m staying here because I’m too tired to leave.”
“I am sorry,” I said adamantly. “I don’t mean to… actually hurt you.”
“Yes you do. Stop being an asshole,” she said.
In the solid darkness of the hotel, I could see absolutely nothing. All I could sense of her was her breath on my neck and the weight of her body. And her voice, rising up from the sheets.
“Rough sex is rough,” she said. “And that’s how it is.” Suddenly she bit my chest so hard I shrieked. “Jerk,” she said, when I’d tumbled back to the mattress. I leaned down to kiss her cheek, but she pulled away. “I said go back to sleep.”
“This might be the last time I ever see you,”
“Probably.”
“I didn’t…” I searched for the words. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
She gave a mordant little laugh. “Yes, you did.”
“Okay, yes I did,” I said, “but I didn’t—”
“What are you trying to say?” she said. “Do you always babble like this after sex? Jesus Christ, and this is what my sister got.” She was unnaturally quiet. When she spoke again it was after she shifted against me under the covers. Her thigh draped over my cock.
“I’ve got my money back,” she said.
“So, this is the last time?”
“Probably,” she said. “Do you know what I actually hate about you?” She was quiet for a moment, then let loose a husky laugh. When she resumed speaking again, she was quieter.
“I wanted to fuck you,” she said. “That’s what I hate about you. I wanted a nice guy. I guess I didn’t want my sister’s nice guy. I wish you were a nice guy. I wish you were a better guy. If you were, you’d still be with Jinyoung and you never would have fucked me. But I wanted you to fuck me. I could have told you no. I didn’t even need the money. But it was wrong to fuck you, so I wanted to fuck you. I wanted you to show me how bad you had it. And you had it so bad, and then when you fucked me, you fucked me like you owned me, fucked me like you had to, like you couldn’t stand not being in me. All the teasing, your selfish arrogance. I really did hate it. I hated it so much it turned me on.”
“And it would be fine,” she went on, “if we met each other and it was like, hey, we hit it off or something. But I never would have met you if you hadn’t been fucking my sister. And you never would have fucked me if you hadn’t fucked my sister first. So, you are a scumbag. And you made me cum. You made me cum.”
“Wait,” I interrupted. ‘Maybe,’ I said, “maybe this works. Maybe that’s what it took to—” She cut me off with a harsh laugh.
“Are you serious? You don’t want to be in a relationship with me. You just want to fuck me. You don’t even know me.”
“I could start,” I said.
“No,” she said, laughing. “No. This is the situation: we have freaky stupid sex, and that’s it. Every time you tried to make it something more than that, it never was. If I hadn’t been into it from the beginning it never would have happened. But I am into it because… I don’t know.…Because, I did like you, actually. And when I found out you were just the same as any other guy, well, Surprise, surprise…”
“But you still fucked me.”
“You blackmailed me.”
“You said you didn’t need the money.”
“I didn’t,” she said. “I also didn’t need the fucking. But that didn’t stop you from taking what you wanted. I took, too.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “So do you like me or not?”
“You’re useful for one thing, at least. Jinyoung never went overboard talking about your sex life but I know for a fact you never fucked her like you fuck me.”
“No,” I admitted.
“Why? Cause I’m the other sister? Cause I’m hot? Don’t answer that. The answer’s yes.”
“Yes and no,” I said. “There’s something in you that I recognize, something in me. I’m not that nice of a guy, fine, but I was never honest with myself or with Jinyoung. I kept putting up a front.”
“You think you don’t do the same thing with me?”
“You do the same thing with me,” I shot back.
Her breath was hot on my face. “So, what’s your point?”
“Just that I do want to fuck you.”
“Great, I’m glad we cleared that up.”
“And I do… sort of… like you, in a weird… not entirely practical way.”
She was quiet. “Remember when I said you’re not as smart as you think you are?”
“Okay, fine. I don’t understand what this is but I don’t want you going away thinking this was all about just fucking your—”
“—my tits, and my ass and my pussy—”
“And your mouth, too. Yes, I wanted you, but I shouldn’t have ever asked you to demean yourself for me.”
“No,” she agreed. “But that’s what you wanted. And that’s what I wanted. And we let it happen. If I didn’t care more about fucking than about my sister, I would have told her a long time ago. You think good sex is enough to break up a relationship for? No. But it wasn’t my relationship. Jinyoung’s good at lots of things, lots of things that aren’t about fucking.”
“So, you’re saying I made the wrong choice.”
“Yeah.”
“Because it felt good.”
“Of course it did,” she said. We lapsed into a hot silence. Cautiously, I stroked the back of her head with my palm. She didn’t push me away.
“So where does that leave us?” I asked. “I mean, if I want to see you again, do I just call you up?”
“You really think you can fuck me whenever you want?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly.
“Well, we don’t have to find out. My sister would kill me if we dated. And I don’t want to date you.”
“So, I lost both of you.”
“Yeah,” she said, ‘but I was only in it for the sex.’ She rubbed her thigh against my cock. During our conversation it had grown until it pressed into her skin.
“Do you want to…” I started.
“No. I told you I’m so sore… you’re not getting another fucking from me tonight.”
“Yeah, well... How about a blowjob?”
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All Roads Lead To Rome
pedro pascal x younger!reader
summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee
word count: 3,519 words
side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!
"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"
Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.
"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"
The young man chuckles.
"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"
He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.
"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"
"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"
"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".
"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"
He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.
"Too bad I don't need you to"
Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.
"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"
"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.
"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"
He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.
"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"
"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.
"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.
"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"
"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.
"Stop being misterious and just drop it"
"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"
When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.
During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.
Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.
You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.
It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.
To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.
You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.
Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.
And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.
"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".
"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".
"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.
So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"
"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.
"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"
"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"
"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.
"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.
"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".
You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.
"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"
He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.
"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"
"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"
"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.
"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"
Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.
"You must be punished for what you did today"
You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"
"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"
"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"
"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.
Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.
"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"
You swallow, "I am"
He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.
Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"
"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"
"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"
"I'm a naughty girl"
He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"
"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.
"You were a little brat, amor"
You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"
He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.
"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"
You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.
"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"
You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"
He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.
"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"
You whimpered "Badly, papi"
"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"
You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"
"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"
"No one!"
You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.
"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"
You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.
"That's your punishment"
"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"
“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"
You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.
He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:
"You have to take this off, what if we-"
"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"
"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.
As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.
"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"
You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.
Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.
"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"
You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.
"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.
You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.
You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.
"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"
He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.
"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"
When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.
"You gotta reward me" you cough out.
"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.
"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.
"Princess..." he warns.
"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.
"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"
"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.
"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.
"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.
"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.
A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.
His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.
Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.
"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.
You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace frenetic.
"I miss your tummy" you pout.
"I miss eating too" he whispers out, tiredly. He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.
"No matter how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"
He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.
You're real, and his.
As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.
"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,
You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.
"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"
"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"
"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"
When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.
"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".
"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"
"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"
You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"
"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"
"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"
"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"
"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.
"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who she totally notices the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"
#dilfistwrites#gladiator II#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x you#pedro x reader#pedro pascal fluff#marcus acacius#joseph quinn#connie nielsen#may calamawy#paul mescal#i love him#so down bad for my latino man#pls excuse the filth<3
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"I..." I glanced down and took a step back. "...I'd rather not talk about it..."
The big man leaned in, a curious look on his face. "Oh~? Something secret~? What, does it have some big weakness... or maybe it's something you're ashamed of?" I tried to keep any reaction off my face, but he noticed my half-wince and pushed forward. "That's it, huh!? You shouldn't worry, man! There's at least two people here who have some sacrificial ritual to keep theirs going! So just tell-"
A hand landed on his shoulder suddenly. "Drop it." The girl in leather he mentioned before gave me a sympathetic look.
The man didn't move. "Why!? I just want to know what we're working with!"
Her look became a glare as she turned to him. "Because this is loop 37, and I'm getting tired of trying to explain everything to you. This questioning goes *badly*, for everyone present. Stop."
The man blinked, then looked back to me for a long moment while I failed to meet his eyes. Finally he nodded, and when she released his shoulder he took a step away from me. "I'll go see if the magic types have had an idea yet..."
As she watched him leave, I spoke up quietly, just for her ears. "...so. I've been set off 36 times then?"
She looked back at me with a gentle smile and nodded. "Yeah, but don't worry. We'll figure something out that doesn't involve... *That* happening."
I shook my head before whispering, "I don't know if you will... Through those other loops, you've probably figured out what my power does. But, did you ever learn where it comes from...?"
The girl's smile faded, replaced with a wary, worried look. "No. I was more focused on dealing with the others and... Well, left you over here in the corner." She gave me a sheepish smile, but the worry stayed in her eyes.
"A shame that doesn't work, but I'm not surprised... Something always sets me off, in every situation. No matter how much I wish it never happened." I hunched in on myself. "A room full of immortals, trapped and unsure of how we got here? I *know* why I'm part of it..."
Her voice dropped even further, and she took a step closer to minimize the chance she was overheard. "...because you're the only person who can kill most of us." I nodded, the tiniest of motions. "But why? Who would want a bunch of unrelated immortals from across the world dead? And why did you mention where you...?" She trailed off, horrified realization dawning in her eyes.
I nodded again. "Because I don't think Death takes kindly to all of you."
"So, what immortality do you have?" "What?" "Well everybody in this room has a type of immortality, I got hyper regeneration, the guy over the is a lich, the girl in leather can save and reload, and I am not bothered enough to keep talking so what is your immortality?"
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ok... so i've seen your amazing college fling works for seungcheol, jeonghan, and joshua.... but what about one for hoshi 👉👈
ONCE AGAIN I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!! ❤️❤️❤️
WARNINGS: freshmen!hoshi, late night practices, burn-out, shyness, sunbae!reader, fluff, a lil bit of angst.
WC: 2.8k of this... judge me 🗣needed to divide this into parts...
part 1 / part 2
college fling!hoshi that you clocked that he was a freshman by the very moment he stepped into the dance practice room. it started with the smell, honestly. freshman reek—like nervous sweat and too much axe body spray, paired with the faintest whiff of fear. baggy-ass hoodie that practically swallowed his arms, hands shoved deep in his pockets like they’d get fined if they came out, sneakers so new they squeaked against the gym floor. he looked young. not in a bad way, just in that “i’m not used to being left unsupervised” way.
he stood in the doorway like he didn’t know what to do with himself. everyone else was stretching, pulling their limbs into shapes human joints probably weren’t meant for, and there he was, swaying on the balls of his feet like a kid waiting to ask if they could borrow a crayon.
“you lost?” you called out, not even looking up from where you were sitting, tying your shoelaces.
“huh? n-no, i’m, uh—this is intro to hip-hop?”
the way he said it like a question had you biting back a grin. “yeah, you’re in the right place. c’mon in before the instructor roasts your ass for lurking.”
he shuffled in, taking a spot in the back corner like he was hoping no one would notice him. “i'm invisible if i stand still enough”, he thinks. but of course, everyone noticed him. new kid energy was impossible to ignore, and to top it off, he had that awkwardly cute thing going on. messy bangs falling into his eyes, face pink like he was one awkward comment away from combusting. his eyes, wide and curious, darting around like he was mentally cataloging every single thing in the room.
“you got a name, freshman?” you asked, leaning back on your hands as you watched him.
he blinked, like he didn’t realize you were still talking to him. “oh, uh, hoshi. i mean, soonyoung. but people call me hoshi.”
“cool. you dance before, hoshi?”
“alright, new guy!” the prof clapped his hands, dragging everyone’s attention. “show us a little freestyle! don't be shy...”
college fling!hoshi who freezes mid-blink, still thinking about your question. clutching his backpack straps so hard you thought they might snap. he turned to you, wide-eyed and panicked, like you could save him from the impending doom.
“relax,” you whispered, stepping closer, your voice low enough that only he could hear. “you do this and sunbae’s buying you dinner. whatever you want. ramen, fried chicken, you name it.”
he blinked, like the concept of being spoiled by you was enough to short-circuit his brain, but there was something there. a spark. like maybe he didn’t wanna flop in front of you.
“okay,” he mumbled, and you gave him a grin that could probably power a small city.
“attaboy,” you said, patting his shoulder as you turned back to the class.
by the end of the first class, he’d loosened up a bit—mostly because the instructor made everyone run through improv drills, and there was no room for shyness when you were flailing around to some experimental old-school rap track. you caught him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.
college fling!hoshi who finally zipped up his backpack after what felt like an eternity, stood up, and immediately knocked over a water bottle with his foot. he muttered a quick, shy “sorry,” barely glancing at the offended plastic, and shuffled toward you. his shoulders were stiff, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack like they were the only things tethering him to this earth. you gave him a once-over, your phone in one hand, and a smirk playing at your lips. “you survived,” you said casually, and his grin was so tiny you almost missed it.
college fling!hoshi who started walking alongside you, a little too close like he didn’t know how to pace himself yet. every few steps, his elbow brushed yours, and he’d shift just enough to make it obvious he noticed. you didn’t say anything—just side-eyed him with a teasing smile that had his ears turning red.
college fling!hoshi who paused outside the building with you, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his sleeve as he asked, “so, uh… what do you like to eat?” his voice was barely louder than the passing breeze. you raised an eyebrow at him, tucking your phone into your pocket. “you’re really gonna let me pick, huh?” he nodded, determined, even as he shuffled his feet. “you said you’d spoil me,” he countered, and for the first time, there was a flicker of sass in his tone. you liked it.
college fling!hoshi who almost tripped on his untied shoelace when you said you’d pick a place, his backpack slipping off one shoulder as he bent down to fix it. he was mumbling something about bad luck when you crouched beside him, yanking the lace from his hands and tying it with a quick knot. “you’re gonna kill yourself before dinner at this rate,” you said, and the way he stared at you—wide-eyed, lips parted—made it feel like you’d just handed him the keys to the kingdom.
college fling!hoshi who sat across from you at the tiny chicken shop, looking at the menu like it was a math test. “it’s just chicken, dude,” you teased, propping your chin in your hand. he fumbled with the laminated page, finally blurting, “but what if I pick something too spicy?” you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, rookie, let me help you out.” you ended up ordering for both of you, and when the dish came, his eyes lit up.
college fling!hoshi who distractly puts too much sauce on his chicken wing and doesn’t notice because he was too busy grinning at your stories. “wait, wait—so you fell during a performance?” he asked, the sauce at the corner of his mouth. you groaned, throwing a napkin at him. “it wasn’t just a fall, okay? it was a crash,” you admitted, and his laugh was so loud the couple at the next table glanced over. “stop making fun of me or I’ll make you pay,” you threatened, and his face instantly sobered. “wait, what?”
college fling!hoshi who insisted on paying despite your earlier threats. he pulled out his wallet like it was some grand declaration of independence, only to hesitate when he realized he didn’t have enough cash. “um…” he started, cheeks burning. you rolled your eyes and handed your card to the cashier before he could protest. “rookie rule number one,” you said smugly, “always check your wallet before acting like a big shot.” he muttered something about repaying you, and you just laughed, nudging him toward the door.
college fling!hoshi who got lost again on the way back to his dorm, despite the fact that he’d been living there for a week. “are you serious right now?” you asked, watching him squint at the campus map on his phone. he scratched the back of his head, mumbling, “it all kinda looks the same at night.” sighing, you grabbed his phone, pulled up the map yourself, and started walking. “come on, hoshi-ya you’re hopeless.”
college fling!hoshi who walked beside you, hands in his pockets, quietly humming a tune you didn’t recognize. “what’s that?” you asked, tilting your head toward him. his eyes widened like he’d been caught. “oh, uh, just something I made up,” he admittedquietly. you stopped in your tracks, turning to him with a grin. “wait, you write music?” he shrugged, suddenly bashful. “a little… it’s not a big deal.” you nudged him with your shoulder. “nah, that’s cool as hell. show me sometime?”
college fling!hoshi who hesitated outside his dorm door, hand hovering over the handle. “thanks for… you know, today,” he said, glancing at you shyly. “and dinner.” you smirked, crossing your arms. “you earned it, rookie. but next time, you’re paying.” his smile stretched wide, and for a moment, he just stood there, like he didn’t want to go in. finally, he nodded, fumbling with the key. “goodnight, sunbae,” he said softly, and you had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair as you turned to leave.
college fling!hoshi who always trails behind you, holding onto the strap of your backpack like a lost puppy. “you’re gonna rip it, you know,” you tell him, but he just grins and tightens his grip. “you’re my sunbae. gotta make sure I don’t lose you.” it’s so dumb and cheesy that you flick his forehead, but your chest feels warmer anyway.
college fling!hoshi who managed to charm his way into your friend group like he’d been there all along. one of your music department friends spotted him loitering outside your lecture hall and asked, “is that the guy you’ve been dragging around campus?” you rolled your eyes, but hoshi smiled like he’d just won an award. “that’s me!” he said proudly, and somehow by the end of the conversation, they were swapping playlist recommendations.
college fling!hoshi who shows up at your dorm one night with a bruised knee and a sheepish smile. “i tripped during practice,” he admits, wincing as you drag him inside. “tripped or collapsed?” you demand, pointing at the ice pack in his hands. he shrugs, trying to play it off, but you’re already crouched in front of him, scolding him as you press the ice to his knee. “you should stop, sunbae its worried about you.” you mutter, and when he mumbles, “i’ll be fine,” you glare at him until he mutters an apology instead.
college fling!hoshi who gets into his first real argument with you after you find him practicing in an empty studio way past midnight. “what the hell are you doing?” you snap, flipping on the lights to find him mid-spin, sweat dripping down his face. “just a bit more,” he protests, breathless. “i need to get this routine perfect.” but you’re not having it. “perfect doesn’t matter if you’re too dead to perform, hoshi!” he flinches, wide-eyed, but you don’t stop. “you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. stop before you break something.” he looks at you, frustrated, and finally, he slumps onto the floor, whispering, “sorry, sunbae.”
college fling!hoshi who randomly shows up with snacks between your classes. “figured you’d be hungry,” he says, handing you a convenience store bag. you peek inside—your favorite drink and a pack of cookies. “didn’t know you were trying to bribe me,” you tease, taking a bite. “is it working?” he asks, grinning, and when you give him a thumbs-up, he beams like a kid on christmas morning.
college fling!hoshi who ends up crashing at your dorm after a long night of studying. he’s sprawled on your bed, one arm thrown over his face, while you sit cross-legged on the floor, typing away at your laptop. “you’re gonna fail if you don’t actually read the material,” you say, glancing up. he groans, rolling onto his side. “then i’ll just ask you to tutor me again,” he says, smirking, and you chuck a pillow at his head.
college fling!hoshi who catches you off-guard one day by slipping his jacket over your shoulders during a chilly walk across campus. “you looked cold,” he says simply, his voice softer than usual. you pull the fabric tighter around you, the faint scent of him lingering on it, and when you glance at him, he’s pretending to be super interested in a tree. “thanks,” you say quietly, and he shrugs, his ears turning pink as he mutters, “anytime, sunbae.”
college fling!hoshi who came back one day to the practice room after a late practice, two cans of soda in hand, humming to himself. “sunbae, I got—” his voice cut off when he saw you slouched on the floor, one hand clutching your forehead. “y/n?” he rushed over, dropping the sodas with a dull clunk. crouching in front of you, his voice softened. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you waved him off weakly. “just tired. it’s nothing.” but he didn’t buy it for a second.
college fling!hoshi who gently pried your hand away from your forehead, his fingers brushing against yours. “you’re burning up,” he said, his brow furrowing. “why didn’t you say anything?” you tried to sit up straighter, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “it’s fine, really. just pushed too hard today.” his expression tightened. “this isn’t fine, y/n. you shouldn’t have kept going if you felt like this.”
college fling!hoshi who helped you lean back against the mirror. “stay still, okay?” he murmured, crouching next to you. you gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “you’re acting like I’m dying, hoshi.” he didn’t laugh, his lips pressing into a thin line. “don’t joke about that,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of improvement.
college fling!hoshi who let you rest your head against his shoulder when you slumped forward again. “here, like this,” he said softly, adjusting so you were cradled in his arms. his hands were steady, one supporting your back and the other brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “just relax. you’re safe.” he started gently blowing on your face, the cool air soothing your heated skin. “better?” he whispered, his voice close enough to send a strange flutter through your chest.
college fling!hoshi who stayed with you until you could sit up on your own again, his arm still lingering behind your back just in case. “you scared me,” he admitted, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “i thought… what if something happened and I wasn’t here?” you blinked up at him, guilt bubbling in your stomach. “sorry,” you muttered. his hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “just don’t do it again, okay? i mean it, you always scold me for practicing too late...”
college fling!hoshi who refused to let you walk home by yourself, no matter how many times you insisted you were fine. “nope, not happening,” he said firmly, slipping your bag over his shoulder along with his own. “if you collapse halfway there, what am I supposed to do? carry you like a princess?” you snorted, but the teasing tone in his voice couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes.
“you know, I could really get used to you carrying me around,” you said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. he raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “oh, really?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah,” you said, deadpan, “I mean, who wouldn’t want a cute guy carrying them everywhere?”
college fling!hoshi who, despite the teasing tone in your voice, caught that little glint in your eye. “alright, then,” he said, voice suddenly serious, as he paused in front of you. “come here.” without waiting for a response, he slid his arms under your knees and around your back. you yelped in surprise, but before you could protest, he had you lifted off the ground like you were weightless. “you wanted it, right?” he said with a grin, carrying you like it was nothing. “not a word out of you until we get to your dorm.”
“you’re a natural at this,” you teased, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you from passing out on me,” he muttered, but his cheeks were flushed, and his hands felt like they were holding you just a bit too tightly. “this isn’t bad,” you added with a smirk, “maybe I’ll start making demands. like, no more walking for me from now on.”
he blushed at your joke but didn’t miss a beat. “you sure about that?” he asked, glancing down at you with a sly smile. you nodded, playing along. “definitely. I’m a princess now. I’ll need snacks, water, a blanket... and don’t forget the back rubs.” hoshi shook his head, clearly trying to hide his amusement. “I’m pretty sure you’re taking this way too far, but okay,” he said, adjusting his grip on you. “I can do all that...”
“deal. but only if you don’t drop me halfway there,” you teased. hoshi’s grip tightened, his voice lowering a little. “I’ll never drop you, sunbae.”
college fling!hoshi who made it to your dorm room, still carrying you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “I should’ve known you’d enjoy this,” he said, shaking his head as he set you down on your bed. “enjoy what?” you asked innocently, grinning up at him. “this whole ‘being carried around’ thing,” he said, still laughing a little. you shrugged dramatically.
college fling!hoshi who would come up to you after class, always fussing over you—was your shoulder okay? did you stretch enough? how was your lunch? you’d always brush it off, sulking a little at the way he took care of you like it was his full-time job.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen scenarios#seventeen headcanons#svt imagines#seventeen#seventeen smut#svt smut#hoshi fluff#hoshi fanfic#hoshi drabble#hoshi x reader#hoshi x you#hoshi x y/n#hoshi headcanon#hoshi drabbles#hoshi imagines#hoshi reaction#soonyoung fluff#soonyoung x reader#soonyoung imagines#soonyoung seventeen
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Dangerous
(Idol x reader, hook up, nda, tds3, foreplay, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names, obsession)
Summary; Imagine the face y/n made when she realized an NDA was right in front to her face. What was a first-time VIP Nctdream experience, turned into amazing sex with Jaemin.
warnings; mature content MINORS DNI!
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Ticketing for Nctdream was the most stressful experience. Y/n spent all of her lunch break anticipating how ticketing would go, as she is a high school teacher who had a whole class during ticketing. To her surprise, she was able to get VIP tickets to Nctdream, for both her and her best friend.
"Talk about stressful, I'm surprised that none of my students questioned the random movie day on a Tuesday"
"Those should be the last of your worries, we're literally seeing our men in 1 month," Ali said, she and Y/n had originally met at an Nct cup sleeve event years back and remained close friends.
FORWARD TO A MONTH LATER
"oh, I'm so anxious, they'll be able to see us, what if I get called backstage"
"oh lord if you get called backstage jaemin will get the best head ever" Ali added as she and Y/n laughed.
Making those comments was normal amongst the two, as it was all for shit and giggles not that they actually believed that they would be given the chance to jump any of the dreamies bones.
Upon arrival at the venue, Y/n and Ali were given early entry as they obtained VIP access.
"OH MY GOD, Jaemin is so fucken hot" y/n whispered to her friend. Not wanting for the others to hear.
______________________________________________________________
Jaemin was never attracted to any of his fans, and he never considered hooking up with any of them. Unlike his members who liked to hook up with women at every stop during tour. They claimed that it was for stress relief.
That was until he spotted a girl in the crowd looking at him and turning to whisper something to her friend. He was curious as to what the gorgeous woman with the top so low whose tits were basically out for him to see had possibly said to cause her friend to giggle.
Throughout the concert, he couldn't help but be drawn to this woman, to his luck during Poison performance he was placed right in front of the beautiful girl.
Making eye contact with her the whole time drawing her in, causing his eyes to go dark and be filled with lust. She smiled at him biting her lip and observing Jaemin's movements. He felt himself start to harden. Eternally grateful that they were given a 3-minute break for an outfit change.
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"bitch jaemin was basically fucking you with those eyes girl," Ali said.
"All alright let's not be dramatic, in my defense he was set in front of us and the song was giving fuck me vibes" Y/n was undeniable that Jaemin would ever even consider letting her jump his bones.
The rest of the concert was a blur, y/n only remembers crying and dancing. The concert had ended, y/n and her friend got their belonging and headed towards the exit as they were stopped by security and guided to an empty room.
"This is starting to scare me, why are we still here is 12 AM," Ali said as she felt extremely sleepy and anxious.
A man who appeared to be part of the TDS3 work crew entered the room. He was wearing a TDS3 merch shirt, some sunglasses, and a baseball cap.
"Someone has requested for a conversation with you" the man said looking straight at y/n.
"That being said your friend will be dropped at her chosen destination, however, we ask for you to remain in this room, till he arrives and speaks to you about paper work" the man continued.
Ali felt unsure, leaving y/n behind in an empty room waiting for a guy who was a stranger felt worrisome.
"I'll be fine," y/n said insuring Ali that she'd be okay.
After Ali's departure, 5 minutes later the door opened and a tall muscular man appeared in front of y/n.
"Jaemin......... I'm not understanding why am I here?"
"Don't worry baby, I will explain everything and we can set boundaries together" Jaemin's smile was contagious and comforting.
He set various of papers on the table sitting across from y/n.
"darling have you ever signed an NDA?" jaemin questioned.
"I haven't but I've heard about how NDAs work"
"if at any point you feel uncomfortable, please let me know and we can stop, I will make sure you get home safe and no further contact on my behalf will be given," Jaemin said grabbing y/n's hand.
after 10 mins of reading the paper work, y/n knew exactly what the purpose of this was. She had two options, not signing the NDA and missing out on amazing sex with Jaemin or signing the papers and letting Jaemin do whatever he desired with her body.
Y/n did what any other horny woman would have done, she signed the papers and gave them to Jaemin with a smile on her face.
"Looks like you're coming home with me tonight princess"
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The ride to his hotel was quiet, Jaemin didn't say much but kept his hand on y/n's thigh. Pushing it closer and closer to her core. Causing y/n to heavy breath.
In the blink of an eye, y/n was on her knees begging for jaemin to let her touch him.
"So desperate for his dick, look at you basically salivating and I haven't even taken off my pants"
His eyes were dark and full of lust.
"I knew you'd be desperate but never imagined how turned on you'd get just by being on your knees".
he was so attractive, how can one not get turned on.
"On the bed now, and on your way there take off all your clothes, tired of seeing those on you"
Geez was he so hot as her observed y/n undress leaving nothing but her panties.
"look at those tits, I know you wore that shirt on purpose to get my attention, well guess what it worked," Jaemin said undressing and hovering over y/n. God were his lips soft, and easy to bite. Tongues fighting for control, causing a mess.
Jaemin shifted his lips to y/n's neck, down to her chest, nipple, stomach, and finally her inner thighs.
"You can be as loud as you want baby, my next-door hotel neighbors are the members and I'm sure those assholes are fucking a fan as we speak"
Jaemin's kisses were soft but felt like fire on y/ns skin.
"fuck please Jaemin"
"let's not be greedy baby" Jaemin said as he removed y/n's panties to get a clearer view of her body.
"look how wet you are, bet you taste just as good as you smell"
he was a tease, brushing his fingers against her fluids. He loved hearing her gasp and whine for more.
"fuck baby you taste so fucken good, so addicting, how am I supposed to continue the tour without this pussy"
he continued to eat her out, inserting two fingers.
"FUCK JAEM........."
"that's right baby cum in my mouth" those words sent y/n over the edge and she came all over Jaemin mouth.
He lifted himself up, licking his fingers and smirking at the mess he caused just with his mouth.
"want daddy to fuck you, baby? want me to cum inside you, to claim this gorgeous body of yours"
He was so fucken attractive, the same person who goes on stage as does aegyo for millions of fans, has the most dirty mouth and thoughts. He was so hot!
He hovered over y/n aligning his dick with her hole.
"If you want me to stop just tap me or tell me, okay darling"
Y/n nodded giving him the signal to enter.
As they both gasped, y/n squeezed around Jaemin.
"Fffucck baby, keep doing that and I'll cum fast"
he started off slow but continued to increase his pace, his thrust began to feel rough hitting all the right spots making y/n see stars.
"JAEM you feel so good" y/n whined
"you like that huh, you like it when I'm fast and rough"
"Yes Yes Jaem cumm inside me please"
He was rich enough to impregnate a woman so he never worried about an accident happening. The thought of a mini jaemin was his dream, however, all prior girls were scared of that type of commitment despite knowing his wealth.
"So tight FUCK" jaemin moaned as he released inside of y/n.
"If you're scared of getting pregnant we can run to the store for a plan b but if you're like me who doesn't give a shit and is ready for a baby quit your stupid job and go on tour with me"
"you don't know me, why would you even consider having a baby with me" y/n claimed.
"for starters, you're gorgeous and I can't imagine myself ever being so addicted to another pussy besides yours, you smell and taste so good, I can fuck you all day and night''
"I will consider it," y/n said checking her phone, it was 2 AM. Jaemin and her had been fucking for 2 hours.
#nct smut#jaemin#jaemin smut#nct dream smut#nct dream#jaemin x reader#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct imagines#nct angst#nct dream angst#jaemin angst#jaemin hard hours#nct hard hours#nct dream hard hours#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#kpop imagines
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dad!joe and reader thoughts of the day
joe and reader spent hours talking about their future on the phone when they were long distance. back when he was at LSU and you were still working on your degree, nightly phone calls were your lifeline. you’d both stay up way too late, talking about everything: the number of kids you wanted (joe said two, you said three, and he eventually relented), the kind of house you’d buy (a porch and a big backyard were non-negotiable), and where you’d retire (somewhere quiet, joe insisted, as long as you were together).
“what if our kid ends up hating football?” you teased once.
joe’s laugh crackled over the line. “then i’ll teach them baseball. or golf. or chess. whatever makes them happy.”
even back then, joe had a way of making you feel like you were planning for a dream that would one day be real.
you were both convinced you were having a girl. during the ultrasound appointment, joe leaned over and whispered, “it’s a girl. i can feel it.” you’d been so sure too, already daydreaming about hair bows, ballet recitals, and a tiny jersey with burrow on the back. when the tech said, “it’s a boy,” you blinked in surprise, and joe sat there frozen for a moment before his grin spread wide.
later, when hayes arrived, all pink cheeks and sleepy eyes, joe held him in the hospital room and whispered, “yeah, buddy. you’re exactly what we needed.” and you couldn’t agree more.
joe was the first one to assemble the crib, but he was so stubborn about not reading the instructions. he swore he didn’t need them, even as you sat cross-legged on the floor with the manual open. “i got this,” he kept saying, determined as ever, until an hour later when he realized he’d installed one of the sides upside-down. you tried not to laugh, but the way he groaned and muttered, “okay, maybe just tell me step three,” was too good.
by the time the crib was ready, it was midnight, and you found joe sitting in the rocking chair next to it, just staring at the empty space. “hard to believe, huh?” he said, running his hand over the railing. “in a few weeks, there’s gonna be a little guy in here.”
joe was a total softie when it came to picking out baby clothes. you’d walked into the nursery one day to find him scrolling through a website on his phone, muttering things like, “does he need suspenders? probably not, but—oh, look at this onesie with the football on it.”
“joe,” you laughed, leaning over his shoulder, “he’s gonna outgrow that in a month.”
“so? we’ll save it for the next one,” he said with a wink, like it wasn’t the first time he’d hinted at wanting a whole team of kids.
hayes’ first christmas broke joe’s heart in the best way. you’d bundled hayes up in tiny plaid pajamas, and joe helped him open his first present—an oversized stuffed tiger that made joe grin so wide it hurt. “LSU,” he whispered to hayes, holding it up like a prized trophy. “we’re starting you young.”
the whole day was a blur of wrapping paper and baby laughter, but that night, when hayes fell asleep in joe’s arms, you caught him staring down at him with a look that could only be described as awe. “best christmas ever,” he said, his voice quiet, and you swore you saw him wipe at his eyes.
he’s ridiculously overprotective when hayes starts crawling. the second hayes figured out how to move, joe was practically shadowing him, ready to catch him if he even thought about tipping over.
“joe, he’s fine,” you said, laughing as you watched him hover.
“he’s reckless,” joe replied, dead serious, as hayes babbled happily and made a beeline for the couch.
“he’s curious,” you corrected, but you couldn’t help but smile at how seriously joe took his new role as protector.
joe loses it the first time hayes falls asleep on his chest. you’d walked into the living room to find them on the couch, hayes sprawled across joe’s hoodie, his tiny fists clutching the fabric.
“you okay?” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the moment.
joe looked up at you, his face soft in the dim light. “he’s just… so small,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “how am i supposed to do anything but love him?”
you leaned over, kissed the top of joe’s head, and whispered, “you’re already doing everything.”
joe fully embraces the chaos of parenthood, but he still has moments of being hilariously unprepared. like the time he forgot to pack an extra onesie and hayes had a blowout at the grocery store.
“i’ll just… carry him,” joe said, holding hayes at arm’s length like he wasn’t sure what to do next.
“in his diaper?” you laughed, digging through the diaper bag to find a blanket to wrap him in.
“he’s a tough kid,” joe said, trying to play it cool, but the pink flush on his cheeks gave him away.
every night, joe whispers something new to hayes before bed. sometimes it’s a play-by-play of the day’s highlights. sometimes it’s just a quiet, “you’re my favorite little guy.”
and every time, you catch him looking at hayes like he can’t believe he got this lucky. when he notices you watching, he grins and says, “can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.”
masterlist! thank you for reading <3
#sweet on you ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow bengals#joeyb#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow smut
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Her name is Alana De Riva. She was a slave in Tevinter, but got freed and joined the Antiva Crows after she helped Viago(pre-talon) get in her former master's mansion to assassinate him.
She is chaotic good. Sometimes too chaotic, sometimes too good
Elf and mage
Possibly in Antiva, maybe captured by the Antaam after she freed their prisioners
It's a mix between the postive one and the joking one
Bellara, Neve, Harding and Taash
Lucanis
None one really, poor thing has zero sense of self preservation
She loves the crows, they are the only family she has known and its very grateful for the part they played on her fleeing slavery but Viago fears she is too soft for the job sometimes and that might be her downfall
No, but she has sweet singing voice, nothing professional or anything but she used to sing to the others slaves to soothe them and does the same for the crows fledglings after they had particulary tough training day
Dagger and orb - she is not picky about which one
She is very curious and experimental, don't think she has come to a conclusion on that matter
It's her job. She will enjoy it though if she thinks someone desarves it.
She hadn't have much time for hobbies since she pretty much went from being slave, to crow training to save the world from elven gods but since she moved to Antiva she is been training to learn how to draw and paint. She wants to paint the landscapes at night.
Viago is big brother to her (or maybe like a grumpy dad?) and she looks up to Teia. She is also as close as one can get to the current Heir from the crows bc they were recruited at the same time and trained together. She got super starstruck when she met Dorian because she remembered her master's hatred of him, she admired him for speaking up against slavery in Tevinter ever since. She hates the first warden guts. And she can't forgive Illario after what he put Lucanis through, even if he does.
After meeting Assan, Griffons, for sure. I have a headcanon that she often visits his brothers and sisters in Arlathan forest and even bonded with one of them
Yes, she is very thankful for get the chance to see all the world because it's something she never thought she'd be able to do as a slave.
Probably working with the crows, trying to think of way to end the Antaam occupation.
Probably because she was too good for her own good. Doing some not so well thought out selfless, self sacrificing act. Viago will be pissed.
She would fight him, but like, try to talk things over first for the Inquisitor's sake.
She is specially proud of her eletric magic because it is effective and she manages to wield it with some flair (as a crow should)
Tevinter and Antivan. She knows some elven and curse words in Qunari that Taash taught her
She would try to be optimistic and push through the crises so when it's finally over I think she has no energy to do anything. After the events of the endgame she might need a few days in bed, cuddling with Lucanis before she can function again
She is not very spiritual or religious, so no. She caught some mannerism and habits from the Andrastian faith but isn't a firm believer herself.
Spell blade, she incorporates her crow training to her magic fighting style.
A tiny and energetic dog, will bite you and cuddle with you with the same passion
She had just turned into a full fledged crow, so there was a lot of being (happily) bossed around by Viago
She considers heself the leader but listen to everyone and specially asks Harding for advise since she had been working with Verric the longest and also has the experience in the Inquisition
The shadow dragons, she'd love to help free other slaves. She'd have a great time with the Lords of Fortune too.
She is kind, didn't let the cruelty and horrors she experience turn her bitter. She is full of life and face the worlds with an open chest and open heart
Rook Questionnaire
inspired by @cassieuncaged's BG3 Character Development Questions but for Rook instead!
1: Where in the Thedas is your Rook from?
2: What is your character's alignment?
3: Race and subclass?
4: If your Rook was a companion, where would they be found?
5: What emotion did they usually pick?
6: What companion are you platonically close with?
7: Romantically close with?
8: Who are they suspicious of?
9: Does your Rook get along with their chosen Faction?
10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?
11: Weapon of choice?
12: What is their orientation?
13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?
14: What hobbies does your Rook have?
15: What NPCs do they like? Which one's do they dislike?
16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Thedas?
17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?
18: What would your Rook be doing if they weren't recruited by Varric?
19: How do you think they'll meet their end?
20: Would they side with Solas or fight him?
21: What is your Rook's favorite ability?
22: What languages is your character fluent in?
23: What do they do after an absolute crisis?
24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?
25: What specialization best represents your Rook?
26: What animal best represents your Rook?
27: What was their life like before the events of Veilguard?
28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?
29: If you could choose a different faction for your Rook, which one would they have joined and why?
30: What's your favorite thing about your Rook?
#dragon age#or ask me!#veilguard#rook#lucanis x rook#rookanis#dragon age the veilgaurd spoilers#crow!rook#antivan crows#viago de riva#lucanis dellamorte#dragon age lucanis#lucanis romance
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I’ve noticed that you’ve been talking about DSaF a bit again, and something I’ve always been super curious about is Dave’s relationship with Henry kinda outside of all the experimentation and the joy of creation. It’s something I don’t see discussed a lot outside of Henrys very blatant abuse. Was Henry actually very kind and empathetic towards Dave towards the beginning? Or was he always cold and distant, and Dave just didn’t know what actual care looked like? Did Dave ever have a very parasocial relationship with Henry before the circus shut down. I know this is a bit of a strange and specific ask, but I just find their dynamic really interesting. It’s something I want to explore in my au, and it’s just a very interesting part of DSaF that I don’t think is talked about enough.
Yes, it started as a parasocial relationship. Dave, as you might recall, started out by following Henry's circus around. Given he'd lived on the streets for his whole life and was used to being cold, lonely, Henry's circus was like nothing he'd seen before that point. Is it really any wonder that his end-game with the player is always going to a city of lights, bright colours + dopamine rushes? He basically followed the circus around from town to town for years, scavenging food from trash bins and getting gradually closer and closer to the main circus tent each time, and by the time he saw what was inside, he was hooked.
Henry's circus had a lot in common with Barnum's and given the 'freak show' element, I'd imagine Dave felt less alone, even though nothing Henry used was nearly as surreal as Dave himself.
Eventually Henry noticed him and he was assigned jobs like shoveling Tiger shit, usually away from guests. Henry definitely wasn't kind to Dave (they barely spoke at this point) but it outlines the second part of Dave's attachment, the feeling of being a part of something greater, being included.
Henry noted Dave's loyalty + defense of his character. I recall Dave mentions that Henry wound up being investigated for a string of murders and wound up framing the Tiger keeper at the circus, something Dave corroborated, believing the word of his distant (but providing) father figure over the guy who rushed him to finish shoveling animal shit.
By the time the investigation ended, Henry's circus had taken a bad hit, but ofc, Henry had enough money saved to go into something new and realized that Dave was trusting/devoted enough to be useful to him. Dave had some money saved up at this point and would eagerly work for free, so it was really a no-brainer on Henry's part. It's anyone's guess how long he intended to keep Dave around before using him as a patsy of some kind. It was incredibly lucky that a nightguard happened to die at their diner shortly after their first string of murders and that Henry managed to fudge the employment records to tie him to the previous 2 murders that'd happened just before this.
I don't doubt that there were occasionally 'nice' moments between the two, but I'd imagine they mostly amounted to Henry occasionally showing his business partner basic courtesy and Dave latching onto it. That and the two speaking about their pasts to some degree, which Dave likely took as the two being inseparably bonded since he wasn't used to really knowing people.
Most of Dave's perception of Henry came from his own inner loneliness, wanting to believe that someone valuable could see genuine good in him. It wasn't really backed up by anything logical, but hey. People see what they wanna see, I guess.
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🧍♀️i can't even describe my emotional state rn
i was so happy to read pt.2. i thought it'd be happy. v, you weren't lying when you said angst, no comfort. THIS HURTS. THIS IS SO ANGSTY BUT ALSO SO SOFT, AND I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TYPE OF EMOTION I FEEL ATP
but my god, your writing skills??? i love that so much. and i love LOVE your world building. this was so fun to read. i can't wait to read more from you!!
annotations;
avoiding his reflection in the mirror as usual.
oooh, this makes me curious
Upon the first splash of water hitting his face, he thought of you. It was inevitable. The image of you sitting on the ground, surrounded by trees. That night, he left you for good. That night nothing made sense.
🧍♀️it does make sense honey, you're just in denial.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.” He recoiled, shaking his head and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of you. But your last words to him were a curse, echoing inside him every night, refusing to leave.
ow ow ow, ok. that cut, deep.
How come he did not think that by killing every single demon within the town’s radar he was putting a target on you for other hunters?
since when have you used your brain? (yes im insulting him, how dare he?)
Jeonghan missed you.
THIS IS ANGSTY BUT ALSO SOFT AHHHHHH
The pull. The feeling he got every time he closed his eyes, the need and deep craving for you that made him go insane. He let himself feel it. It tugged inside him, like a thread that was tied to his very core.
your descriptions >>>> i actually felt the pull. v, i love your writing
The same thigh he had been rubbing since he woke up. It made no sense.
IT MAKES SENSE, YOU IDIOT
A sheen layer of cold sweat covered your face and neck, breathing hard. “Fuck you,” you sighed when he stopped squeezing your flesh.
lmfao. i love her ��
“Why haven’t you fed?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand that he was reprimanding you.
he's worried.
“I’m not talking about human food,” he said with annoyance, shooting you a look that made you shrink in your seat. “Why haven’t you been feeding?”
HE'S WORRIED. eating my fist rn, this is soo ughhhh, adorable and heart breaking at the same time. idek what emotion im feeling atp.
You saw him walking away from the car, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his long hair tied in a messy ponytail.
PONYTAIL JEONGHAN ?!?!
You knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him. And you knew what it was.
this is ... domestic and soft.
With a sigh, you walked inside the room. “One bed?” you turned to him with an exasperated look.
qsadfghjnmhngbfrdszghyjuhn, AHHHHHH-wait, you guys have fucked countless times.
Jeonghan frowned, not at you but at the thing stirring inside his chest. That feeling he got only when he was with you. “When is the last time you fed?”
HE'S WORRIED WHAT IF I THROW MYSELF OUT OF THE WINDOW
“You’ll die,” he sentenced after some seconds. “Are you insane?”
me when a man does the bare minimum, but my bar is in hell.
“Why do you want to become human?” the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them.
oh ... 🧍♀️she's down bad
Jeonghan had never seen a demon cry, let alone one that wanted to become human. It made no sense.
IT MAKES SENSE HEXSBKNDFMGFHGVFCDSFGH YOU IDIOT
“Is that necessary?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he sank under the covers with you.
lmfao, this guy is slick
He found himself entirely pressed to your body, his front to the back of yours. His nose buried in your mane of hair, an arm draped over your waist.
fuck, this is so domestic, and soft, and cute, and lovely, and sweet, and-i can't.
Jeonghan pressed his fingers on your chin gently, tugging you so you locked your pretty eyes with his. “Does it not, really?”
RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅
“Did you think I would want you more if you were human?” he asked without heat in his words, his gaze reading your features over and over. “Did you think that would give you a shot at a normal thing happening between us?”
🧍♀️she's just down bad, ok? go easy on her.
By this, you meant, the out-of-the-ordinary need for him, the desperate craving that refused to let you live. Maybe then, the bond between you would not be so unbearable.
asdfghjkl i love this. so angsty and so soft, and i dont even what the fuck im feeling
“What?” he bit back, holding your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks. “What will you do, eh?”
AHHHHHHWDSNHAOVFUBRHJL DFCVMDSCVBNHDNHTBGFVDC AH YOON JEONGHAN THE MAN YOU ARE
Nothing in existence would make him stop wanting you, damned to hell or not.
But did he miss you the same way you did? Did he crave to hear your voice like you did his?
fucking hell, oh he fucking did.
“Scary baby demon, what are you going to do?” he teased again, kissing the apple of your cheek, his breath caressing your ear. “I want to see that,” he said mockingly. “Make me suffer.” “I’ll be mad at you.” “I ache for you,”
“You fucking brat,” he spat, pressing his face on yours, giving you a hard kiss in the process. “Delusional little demon. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?” “Did you really think… I’d stop wanting you?” he panted in between his hard thrusts, the strain in his voice telling you how close he was to his release. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”
this is my live reaction. im actually dead, this is my soul typing
“I won’t do it again,” “That’s it… that’s my girl,”
WTF OMG IM JUST A GIRL, I CANT- I CAN'T
“Jeonghan,” you started, your tone reducing itself to a whisper. “There is a reason why we can’t get rid of each other.”
say it. SAY IT
“It makes no sense,” he whispered dejectedly. It made perfect sense.
im killing myself if my soulmate goes through stages of grief instead of happiness when it is revealed.
Jeonghan sighed, touching your forehead with his. “That’s a high price to pay,” he whispered.
well, what do you expect? this is the third time, SHE'S DOWN BAD
“I like you the way you are.”
oh my FUCKING GOD I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.
“Don’t go,” he mumbled. Fool. He was a fool.
whyyyyy NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
FOR ONCE, JUST ONCE, WHY CNA'T THEY BE HAPPY
the traitor | yoon jeonghan
› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 8.4k
› 🎧: mood – dpr ian | shameless – yuni | symphony – highvyn ft. jey | read your mind – meloh | dive – jooyoung | dead man running – seulgi | for us – v | moonstruck – enhypen | war-r-r – colde
› this one shot is part 2 of the curse - hannieween fest
› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️
› warnings: smut with plot, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex (both receivers), pussy drunk jeonghan, cockdrunk reader, cum swallowing, creampies, cowgirl, mating press. pet names: baby, baby demon (hers)
› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.
› author's note: this is part two of my demon hunter hannie! hehe i loved writing it sm and thought to give you a follow-up part!
› additional note: this isn't proofread
the traitor
JEONGHAN WAS WOKEN UP BY A TINGLING FEELING. As a hunter, he needed to pay attention to a few things, like sudden surges of emotions. Hunches. Tingling sensations were not particularly something he would consider in the bunch. But alas.
He pushed himself up, swinging his legs at the rim of the bed and stared at his knees for a long second. He took a deep breath, rubbing his leg. It was pointless, he thought when he could not find a reason to leave his bed in the middle of the night.
But being a hunter also meant he needed to be on high alert nearly all the time. In his experience, sometimes it was a good idea to pay attention to those moments when nothing made sense at all, such as this.
Sucking in a breath, he got up, stretching his arms over his head as he went over to the small bathroom, avoiding his reflection in the mirror as usual.
Upon the first splash of water hitting his face, he thought of you. It was inevitable. The image of you sitting on the ground, surrounded by trees. That night, he left you for good. That night nothing made sense.
Needless to say, he was exercising all of his will not to go back to you.
Stop trying to make sense of everything.
After that, he debated whether to go back to bed or not. He could take a bottle, try to numb his senses and finally get a good night of sleep. But he needed to stay sharp.
It was a lost game. He got dressed, throwing his pair of black pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Finally strapping his chest harness on with his knife. Going out in the middle of the night meant to him that he was out for blood.
That was his way to distract himself.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.”
He recoiled, shaking his head and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of you. But your last words to him were a curse, echoing inside him every night, refusing to leave.
Jeonghan let out a long exhale as he wandered through the night. The streets of the town were completely deserted, he knew he would have to stay out for some hours before he found a target.
These nights, he had been hunting until he travelled three towns over. All because he cannot find it in himself to sleep, he has to fight the urge to seek you out somehow.
Maybe this will be the night he breaks.
There was nothing in this town. It was too safe, too clean. He knew it would not be long until he had to move to a different town and start over. He had been commissioned to travel to different parts of the globe to find something to hunt down, so maybe he was doing his job right.
So why did he come back to this shitty town?
Something spiked in his nightly walk. There was something unusual in the air and it was not good. Jeonghan had really good senses, but his intuition was something that discerned him from the rest. Sometimes, people would tell him that his intuition was something out of the ordinary for hunters. So he paid more attention to that rather than his other senses.
He subconsciously rubbed his leg and caught his hand just as it dawned on him.
“Jeonghan, don’t go.”
Fear set in, and adrenaline kicked in as he started for a run. He had been stupid. So fucking stupid. How come he did not think that by killing every single demon within the town’s radar he was putting a target on you for other hunters?
Jeonghan knew the town by heart, but he could travel to your apartment with his eyes closed. Countless were the nights he stumbled upon your front door, burdened with misery all over. This cannot be the way he finds you dead.
“No, no, no, no…” he had been repeating the word like a prayer as he climbed through a labyrinth of stairs, panting, sweating until he burst the door open, already knowing you would not be there.
He called your name, either way, his voice bouncing back the walls. There was something off. A glass was shattered, pushed against the corner of the room. One of the chairs was drawn back, in the middle of the way. Jeonghan painted a scene of what could have gone down.
You were probably having the bowl of cereal that was abandoned on the table when the other hunter burst in. Jeonghan could not catch the scent of the other hunter, so that meant whoever that was, they masked themselves well.
No, you would have felt his presence before he could even breathe in your direction. Even if you were young, you were not completely inexperienced in the world of hunters. He made sure of that.
Another possibility was that you were asleep when the other hunter came. The sheets of your bed were tossed to one side. Jeonghan crouched next to the mattress, a terrible feeling sinking inside him upon getting your scent lingering on the pillowcases.
Jeonghan missed you.
“Where are you?” he whispered, closing his eyes to focus on your scent.
You smelled like freshly picked flowers. The smell he would get in the early morning after a night of rain. The fact that you did not smell like death, or blood made it hard for him to focus sometimes.
He opened his eyes, his focus falling on the open window. Then, he knew why he could not make a story from his surroundings. He had been wrong to assume it was just one hunter.
Someone had also come through the window. You were trapped from the beginning. His chest contracted painfully. But somehow he knew you were not dead yet. Have you been taken? For what end?
The possibilities were endless. Even if hunters had a long history of hating demons, some of them were missing some screws in their heads too.
Jeonghan needed to find you, soon.
Making his way down the stairs, part of him wondered why try at all. He could be rid of you once and for all. He could probably turn a blind eye to this and wait for your name to appear on the ledges. He would be free from the fucking pull that lead him to you every time.
The pull.
The feeling he got every time he closed his eyes, the need and deep craving for you that made him go insane. He let himself feel it. It tugged inside him, like a thread that was tied to his very core.
Jeonghan had refused that feeling ever since he met you, thinking it was some kind of trick you played on him. Silly little hunter got all wrapped in a demon’s finger.
But if he dared to give in to the pull, everything smelled of you. Every gulp of air he took as he walked in the direction his senses told him, he saw your face, your teary eyes as he walked away. Fool, he was a fool.
He was led to the forest, the same path he had gone through when he saw you last. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he should go back and hunt you down.
But then he heard noises, leaves rustling, and a small intake of breath. The sweet way you drew air into your lungs.
He thought of risking calling your name, but he did not know if the hunters were around. So he just followed the sound of your movements until he could get his sight on you.
You could barely walk right. Something had brought you to your knees, your arms were shaking as you forced yourself to stand up, with a low grunt.
Jeonghan called your name this time, making you lift your head.
He stopped abruptly at the sight of something shiny in your fist.
“Don’t move,” you said, punctuating each word painfully.
“What happened?” he asked, his tone declining in sickening worry, his gaze coasted at each of your limbs, zeroing in on your thigh. The same thigh he had been rubbing since he woke up. It made no sense.
“Step back, Jeonghan,” you panted in pain, raising the knife at him when he made a motion toward you.
“You didn’t notice me coming,” he muttered, analyzing the situation quickly. He sent his gaze around, seeing if there were signs that there was someone lurking by. “Let me take a look at that.”
“How did you find me?” you asked, letting yourself plop back to the ground, letting go of the knife.
Jeonghan got to your side, dropping to his knees to look at your thigh. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, eyeing you. “I’m going to touch you now.”
You nodded and braced yourself for the searing pain in your leg. “Two hunters came for me,” you said, clenching your jaw tightly to resist the pain throbbing in your skin, around the gaping hole that was turning black.
“I know,” he said, examining the open wound. “Did they stab you?”
You shook your head twice. “They were using a crossbow. Silver arrows,” you explained despite the need to rest your head on the ground and sleep through it. “I feel dizzy.”
Jeonghan shot you a look. He was worried. “It’s the poison, they must’ve poisoned the arrows to neutralize you,” he said at once. “What did you do to the arrow?”
“I used it on one of them,” you replied with half a smirk that slowly vanished as Jeonghan started to press on the wound, seeing any signs of anything odd or unfamiliar.
“Sorry,” he breathed as you tensed in pain. “I need to see if there’s anything in there,” he explained, but what did not satiate the doubts running in his mind.
“I can’t heal it,” you repeated and now he could see that beneath the pain and the need to deflect it with humour, you were scared.
“I know, I know,” he told you, giving you a stern look. “I can help you but you’ll have to be quiet.”
“Are you missing this opportunity to gag me?” you quipped but your tone was made weak by the fear of feeling pain.
Demons were used to pain, yes. But you were a fairly young demon and lived for most of your life in the human world. Such pain was not welcome for you.
“Breathe,” he instructed and used his hands on your thigh to squeeze the blood that had gone black and tacky around the wound.
You gritted your teeth, writhing in pain on the cold ground. “Stop, stop, stop,” you cried out, trying to get his hands off you.
But Jeonghan was quicker, and stronger than you at that moment. He did not deter from his task to squeeze the poisoned blood out of you despite your desperate cries for him to stop.
You lied, nearly limp from the exhaustion the pain had put you through. A sheen layer of cold sweat covered your face and neck, breathing hard. “Fuck you,” you sighed when he stopped squeezing your flesh.
“I’m not done yet, I need pressure on the wound,” he said, moving back to unfasten his belt with his bloodied hands. He strapped the belt around your upper thigh, forming a tight tourniquet.
“Hurry,” you said through heavy breaths. As you eased your back on the ground, Jeonghan caught sight of the dark wings splayed beneath your body, a clear sign that you could not conceal yourself any further.
Jeonghan made no comment about the weakened state you were in. A knot was set in his stomach upon realizing that you were dying. He grabbed one of the vials he kept in his hunter’s belt, it contained a white liquid. “This is going to sting a little,” he murmured, unstoppering the vial with his mouth and not pausing before pouring the antidote on your open wound.
Your hand flew to clench at his wrist, letting out a scream that was quickly muffled by his hand clasped in your mouth.
“I’m nearly done,” he said with a composure that you could see through. Beneath that, Jeonghan was worried you would not make it.
“Am I going to be all right?” you asked in a daze, slurring out your words.
“Drink this,” he pressed the vial to your lips, pouring the rest down your tongue, which you gulped willfully, it tasted like white vinegar.
You rested your head on the ground, taking slow and deep breaths as though you had just finished running a marathon.
“You’re going to be all right,” he said after a quick examination of the wound. “But you’ll need to feed soon.”
“Right,” you mumbled in understanding. By feeding, Jeonghan did not mean human food. Although you could eat human food just all right, it did not sustain what your soul craved.
He meant sins. You needed to feed off human sin. They made you stronger, and faster. They gave you the fuel needed to fight hunters. Going off sins for a while made you just as strong as an average human.
“Why haven’t you fed?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand that he was reprimanding you.
“Been busy,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.
The last thing you heard was Jeonghan mumbling, “We’ll need to move soon,” before you fell into a deep sleep on a floor covered by dead leaves.
Upon regaining consciousness, you noticed with some slowness that you were not surrounded by trees, and you were moving. Your wings were cradling you, so that meant your horns were on sight too.
You tensed up, drawing in a shaky breath, palming your body in search of the knife that you stole from your attackers.
“Easy,” Jeonghan murmured next to you, a hand on the wheel, the other on the shift stick.
“Where are we?” you said, looking around.
“Radewood town,” he replied nonchalantly, eyes set forward on the road.
“Why?” you asked slowly, hiding your wings, from his view, then your horns.
“How’s your leg?” he asked instead, glancing at your thigh.
The wound had stopped bleeding, it was no longer oozing that black substance that had Jeonghan looking worried. You hissed painfully upon searching it with your fingers. The blood had dried, but it was not healing at the speed you would normally have.
“It hurts,” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip. “It’s not healing.”
Jeonghan nodded. “You need to feed,” he reminded you with the same tone of reprimand of earlier.
“Well, I fled without stopping to grab my purse so,” you sighed. “I don’t have money.”
“I’m not talking about human food,” he said with annoyance, shooting you a look that made you shrink in your seat. “Why haven’t you been feeding?”
You blinked slowly at him and shook your head after deciding that there was no answer that would please him. “I have–,”
“Don’t say you have been busy,” he cut in.
“Well, it’s the truth,” you said with a clear tone that gave away your lie.
But Jeonghan could feel it. Whenever you told a lie, there was a change in the air that only he could notice as a hunter. No human could ever detect your lies, only people like him.
“You know I know when you’re lying,” he said flatly, throwing you a dark look.
“Be content with that,” you bit back. “I’m not telling you anything else.”
Jeonghan shook his head, deciding not to press any further on the matter. He licked his lips, filling his lungs with the fresh midnight air that swept in through his rolled window.
“Jeonghan,” you called softly and did not proceed with your question until he glanced your way. “Why are you helping me?”
Jeonghan turned on a different street again, checking his rearview mirror, pretending to ready his answer. “I don’t know,” he replied.
There it was the empty void extending between you and him. If he lied, you would have sensed it too.
“How did you find me?” you pressed, trying to the best of your ability to analyze him. You were still weak, but you could still observe him despite your foggy brain.
“I don’t know,” he repeated with a low tone that barely cut through the noise of the engine of the car.
It made no sense. The way he found you in the woods was not done with any of his training. He simply closed his eyes and let him be taken to you. He did not even think twice as he carried your body to his car and started it, taking you far away from the town where you would be at risk of being hunted down.
“We have to lay low for now,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes as he cut the engine on an empty parking lot.
You raised your gaze to the motel sign, flaring in red neon light. “Is this your version of laying low?” you said with a sarcastic huff. “We could’ve done that back in the forest.”
Jeonghan opened the door, not bothering to look at you or give you a reply. “Stay here.”
You saw him walking away from the car, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his long hair tied in a messy ponytail.
You could run away. You did not know if Jeonghan was even aware of this. Maybe he was, you had a bad leg, and you were growing weaker.
Plus, there was the fact that he was now aware that he could trace you with his eyes closed.
You swallowed hard, waiting for him in the passenger seat of his old Mustang. You were going nowhere.
Some minutes later, you saw Jeonghan exiting the building and walking towards your door, which he opened to retrieve his belongings, which were his belt and his knife.
“This way,” he mumbled, motioning to one of the doors with a jerk of his head.
Reluctantly, you exited the car, closing the door behind you. Jeonghan turned and walked over to the door, introducing the key, and opening it for you.
You knew better than to fight it. There was a quiet storm brewing in the man’s head, and you were in its eye. You knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him. And you knew what it was.
With a sigh, you walked inside the room. “One bed?” you turned to him with an exasperated look.
“I didn’t think you would mind,” he froze by the doorframe.
“Whatever,” you waved a hand dismissively before he could offer to change it.
As soon as Jeonghan closed the doors and the blinds, you started to the bathroom, taking all of your clothes off in front of him. You made no invitation, no offer but you still left the door open, the sound of the shower filling the tiny room.
Jeonghan made another small inspection, looking out of the window through the blinds before deciding to relax. He took his jacket off, leaving it neatly by the chair that was pushed to one corner of the room. He took his boots off, sitting down on the chair with a low grunt of exhaustion.
As he sat up straight, he caught sight of his hand, only noticing because he had started moving it, rubbing his palm on the exact spot where you had been injured.
“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself, raising his gaze as you returned to the bathroom, wholly naked, pressing a towel to your hair.
“You okay, hunter?” you eyed him curiously, like a cat that just noticed a flashy light.
Jeonghan frowned, not at you but at the thing stirring inside his chest. That feeling he got only when he was with you. “When is the last time you fed?”
“Here we go again,” you rolled your eyes but continued towel-drying your hair without bothering to respond.
“Answer me,” he muttered when you turned your back on him. Your reluctance to answer his question might have given him the answer.
“The last time we saw each other,” you said, your words echoing his own thoughts.
“Why?” the word was sharp like it took everything in him to suppress the dark emotion pulling on his every nerve. “That happened months ago.”
“Why do you care so much?” you spat, turning around to face him.
The question seemed to make him return to his senses, his eyes flickered with an emotion that you were to weak to catch. “I don’t,” he replied, stepping back from his initial anger.
“I’ll feed whenever I want to,” you said and this time you did not lie.
Jeonghan stood up, commanding your gaze to lift up to find his. “So you’re not hungry?”
You bit your tongue. Your eyes were dead, and despite the hot shower you had just taken, you were cold to the touch as Jeonghan curiously raised a hand to your shoulder. It was pointless, your plan had crashed and burned miserably.
“I’ve heard stories…” you whispered, closing your eyes to repel the sensation firing inside you. “Stories of ways a demon can become human. You can’t become human if you’re feeding off them, right?”
When Jeonghan did not reply, nor move you opened your eyes again. He was still rigid in the same trance he had been upon finding you injured and bleeding in the forest.
“You’ll die,” he sentenced after some seconds. “Are you insane?”
You brushed his hand off. “I knew you’d say that,” you whispered with a pained look, turning around to sit down on the bed.
“Why do you want to become human?” the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them.
“Not your business, Jeonghan,” you replied impishly, throwing the towel to him, which he saw coming, catching it with ease.
“It is if you’re running away with me,” he said. Your temptation to feed could become dangerous. And he was toeing that line too deliberately.
“I didn’t choose to run away with you,” you bit back with an indignant huff.
“That’s the thanks I get?” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “What was I supposed to do, then? Leave you to die? To be found by them?”
He did not need to explain who he referred to. The two hunters must have noticed that Jeonghan ran away with his things, his car, leaving an empty place behind. And you are nowhere to be found. He was a traitor.
“Maybe,” you whispered, lowering your gaze to your lap. You skirted the pads of your fingers around the wound that still refused to heal completely.
Jeonghan stood before you, using a hand on your chin to force your teary eyes on him. A finger scooped your tear as it rolled down your cheek. The tear glistened on the pad of his thumb as he showed it to you, a shocked expression plastered on his face.
Demons felt emotions, yes. But nothing like sorrow. Jeonghan had never seen a demon cry, let alone one that wanted to become human. It made no sense.
“It’s possible, Jeonghan,” you whispered shakily, letting your tears flow freely.
“Humans are weak. They get sick, they die. Besides, the guilt of everything you’ve done as a demon will crush you,” he said, dropping his hand from your chin. “Why would you want something like that?”
“I’m done talking,” you said childishly, turning over to draw the covers of the bed and tucked yourself in. “Goodnight.”
He blinked perplexedly at you. The best option was to wait for another opportunity to bring up the matter, but for now, he needed to rest. He disposed of his chest harness, and his knives, leaving them on the old and battered bedside table, where he could reach out if needed.
A smile threatened to break on his face when you turned slightly at the sound of him taking his pants off, then his long-sleeved t-shirt, discarding his clothes at the foot of the bed.
He paused, tugging the band of his black boxers with his fingers. He took them off, making things fair.
“Is that necessary?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he sank under the covers with you.
“Just playing your game,” he said, tugging the hair tie loose before lying his head on the pillow next to yours.
“I’m not playing any games,” you huffed with annoyance, turning over so your back was to him once again.
There it was the ripple in the air between you and him. Jeonghan did not need to comment on it, but you hated it.
Hunter abilities or not, Jeonghan would be able to read through your lies blindfolded. He was just that good at reading people, reading you.
Jeonghan stared at the ceiling, his heartbeat going a mile per hour, like a bird’s wings batting frantically inside his chest. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge pushing him to raise his hand at you, to reach out and touch your skin.
You closed your eyes, commanding yourself to sleep. But it was nearly impossible. Jeonghan’s scent was too distracting. The hunger caved a hole deep inside you. It was no ordinary hunger, it was one that had your soul twisting.
You balled your hands into fists, sinking your face into the pillow. His lust was nearly palpable, looming over you like a monster preying on you.
However, you were too weak to actually act upon it. Soon, you fell asleep, not noticing when or how.
Jeonghan however, was too riddled with questions to do the same. He turned his head on the pillow, seeing your wet hair, your naked shoulder. His thigh throbbed in something that reminded him of pain, though his flesh was fine and did not hurt.
Why would you want to become human? What could be a good enough reason to want to abandon your life full of pleasures? It made no sense. Jeonghan had never heard of a demon becoming human, but he saw you crying, so that must mean that it could be done.
Still, it meant that there was a price to be paid. There always was.
Wandering through endless questions, Jeonghan fell asleep. Now and then he was reminded of your presence in the bed, feeling your warmth or hearing you move beneath the sheets.
Even if he were not a light sleeper, the distraction of your warmth was enough to stir him awake. He found himself entirely pressed to your body, his front to the back of yours. His nose buried in your mane of hair, an arm draped over your waist.
And he was hard. Fuck, he was so hard it was starting to become annoying. It would be so easy to slip himself inside your pussy, waking you up in the process. He had done it countless times before.
He let out a silent sigh through his nose, only getting the scent of your hair when he breathed in. Your hand found his arm parked on the curve of your waist, you were awake. Jeonghan pressed himself another inexistent inch further, his hard cock wedged on your ass.
“Jeonghan,” you mumbled sleepily, turning over to see him. You threw him an innocent look, big eyes, pouting lips. “What are you doing?”
He responded by giving you a confused look. In other times, you would not even ask questions, you would just let him take you, take whatever he wanted, for however long.
Jeonghan brought a hand to your chin, his touch igniting your skin, making you blink dumbly. “How long are you going to keep resisting it?” the words flew out of his mouth before he could even comprehend his own question.
But he knew what you were doing. He was an expert in pushing his feelings down, particularly, he knew what it felt like to resist this pull.
“However long is necessary, Jeonghan,” you replied, but your tone wavered in the urge to press yourself against his hand, to feel him.
“Why?” he asked, his eyes skirting through your reaction. He knew you wanted this, why were you refusing him?
“If I keep this for long I might get what I want,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes in utter shame.
“Why do you want to become human so desperately?” he asked again, looking at you with an obfuscation that was hard to mask.
You shrugged, keeping your sunken gaze on his chiselled chest. “That doesn’t concern you.”
Jeonghan pressed his fingers on your chin gently, tugging you so you locked your pretty eyes with his. “Does it not, really?”
Your brow furrowed, your gaze darkening. Feeling like you were being mocked, your eyes watered again. “Fuck off, Jeonghan,” you scoffed weakly, trying to free yourself from his grip.
He did not want to see it, but your reaction told him everything he needed to know. It took him some seconds to shake the perplexion off. It made no sense. “Did you think that being human would change things?”
You made no verbal reply, scoffing as you brushed his hand off you one more time.
But you knew him well enough to expect that would not work on him. He needed an answer now, and he would stop at nothing to get it now that he knew it fully concerned him.
“Did you think I would want you more if you were human?” he asked without heat in his words, his gaze reading your features over and over. “Did you think that would give you a shot at a normal thing happening between us?”
“No, Jeonghan,” you rolled your eyes, but he could see how much his questions had pierced through you. “Quite the opposite.”
He made a motion to pull his head back on the pillow as if that gave him a better frame of your face. “What?”
“I want this to stop,” you whispered, rolling over the bed to sit up with a sigh.
Jeonghan looked at your back, you let your head drop forward, sniffling softly but you were fully crying now.
“Maybe being human will make this stop,” you whispered, motioning a hand between his body and yours. By this, you meant, the out-of-the-ordinary need for him, the desperate craving that refused to let you live. Maybe then, the bond between you would not be so unbearable.
Jeonghan sat up too, trying to read any signs of your words being insincere. But he found nothing, the quiet tension falling in the room startled him, and it made him uncomfortable. Even more, the battering inside his chest was making it difficult to even breathe.
“That makes no sense,” he mumbled with a hollow tone.
“It makes perfect sense,” you bit back, throwing him a sad look.
You were weak, nearing a state that you did not comprehend. Becoming human meant that you also had to deal with human emotions, and they were flowing freely through you, giving you a taste of what you were about to face as a human.
However, making yourself human condemned you to a myriad of threats. Not just mortality. You would become a demon that betrayed its own kind. A traitor, too.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, trying to hold your gaze to read you better.
“I want to be rid of you by whatever means necessary,” you hissed, coating your words with venom.
“Liar.”
There was a shadow of a smile on his face, and before you resorted to a crazed fit of violence, you decided to crush your mouth with his, kissing him with enough vehemence it would hurt him if he were human.
But he was tough enough to take you. He released a grunt in your mouth that was from half arousal, half annoyance at you.
“You’re a baby,” he grunted between hard kisses. “A bratty, fussy, melodramatic demon.”
“Shut up, Jeonghan,” you hissed. “Shut up or I swear–,”
“What?” he bit back, holding your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks. “What will you do, eh?”
“Don’t try me right now,” you said, kissing him repeatedly you were running out of breath.
“That’s exactly what I want to do,” he chuckled. “Did you think that making yourself human would make me stop wanting you?”
“Yes,” you hissed, pushing him back onto the bed with all the strength you had.
Jeonghan was stronger than you at that moment, but he allowed you to handle him with a triumphant smirk on his face. Nothing in existence would make him stop wanting you, damned to hell or not.
Though it made him curious to know. “Do you want to stop wanting me, then?” he leaned his head to his shoulder.
“It would be nice to stop craving you all the time,” you said, sinking your face in the crook of his neck to kiss him.
“Liar,” he grunted, holding your hips as you made a trail of kisses down his beautifully scarred chest. “Even worse, you’re a masochistic one at that.”
The guilty giggle escaping through your lips gave him all the reassurance he needed. You were now soaking up his need for you.
“Gods,” he breathed when your lips reached his hipbone. Your touch would never satiate the craving need inside him, but this night he would at least attempt to.
His fingers tangled in your hair, keeping his grip light but it would become difficult as you gave him a long lick from his ball sack to the tip of his cock. “Fuck,” he gritted, tensing as you wrapped your mouth around the bulbous head of his cock. “Yes, baby, just like that.”
The room fell silent again, but now all that surrounded you and him was lust and bliss. It had your blood revelling, sizzling beneath your skin to take him into your mouth. His fingers thread in your hair, caressing you as you bobbed your head up and down on him, sucking him off eagerly. You were tasting him, not only his skin, his arousal, but his lust. It drove you crazy.
“Gods, I fucking missed you,” he drawled, closing his eyes briefly before he lost all control. He wanted to push his hips, to drive his cock into your throat. But he also wanted to take this patiently.
You explored him with your mouth, just like your hands were exploring his body. Not that his nakedness was new to you, but you had just gone months without touching him. And not for a single second did you forget the taste of him, you also missed him.
But did he miss you the same way you did? Did he crave to hear your voice like you did his?
Your transition from demon to human was painful, and you were throwing it all away in one night. And Jeonghan was willingly letting you feed off his lust, you were relishing the taste of his greed, sucking off the last bit of the self-restraint he had in him.
His fingers curled around your hair, clenching his jaw as he moaned in pure pleasure. He let out a gasp when your tongue swirled around his cockhead. “Keep doing that, baby,” he said languidly, following the movements of your head on him.
A strangled moan bubbled in your mouth, and you followed his command, rolling your tongue around his blunt head.
Jeonghan smirked knowingly. You weakened whenever he treated you with softness, so words like baby drove you crazy. He threw a look down at his body, capturing your eyes, darkened with a lascivious greed that only fueled his. “Touch yourself,” he said with a gruff tone. “I want you to come with me.”
You sneaked a hand between your thighs, moaning salaciously when your fingers stroked your clit.
Jeonghan sighed, blinking slowly at the sight of you, thinking of your drenched pussy, your fingers coated in your arousal as you rubbed fast swirls around your clit. “That’s it, baby, just like that,” he praised, brushing your hair back with his long fingers. “You’re such a good girl for me, you don’t even know it.”
You moaned around his cock again, succumbing to a fast orgasm, your body trembled slightly.
“Coming,” he whispered, his mouth falling open as ropes of cum spurted down your throat, moaning at the sight of you drinking him off completely, licking to the last bead of his cum. You littered the reddened cockhead with sweet pecks trailing down to his shaft, eliciting a raw chuckle from him.
“That was amazing,” he whispered, enjoying the twinkle in your dark eyes upon being praised by him.
Jeonghan sat up, hooking one arm around your waist to throw you back onto the mattress. “Your turn,” he said with a wolfish grin.
You had recuperated the color in your cheeks, but you were still weak enough to fight his strength. You grunted as your head hit the pillows, but returned the smile at him. “You’ll see when I get my strength back.”
“Ooh, scary,” he said, grazing his lips on yours.
“You’ll see,” you remarked.
“Scary baby demon, what are you going to do?” he teased again, kissing the apple of your cheek, his breath caressing your ear.
“I’ll make you suffer,” you mumbled faintly, closing your eyes as his lips reached the underside of your jaw, making you tilt your head back for him.
“I want to see that,” he said mockingly. “Make me suffer.”
You sighed a moan when he kissed your throat, giving you a broad stroke with his tongue, tracing your collarbones. “Jeonghan…”
“Don’t throw another tantrum like that again,” he murmured against your skin, leaving another kiss on the plain of your breasts, before adding, “I’ll be mad at you.”
A spark of wrath got mixed along with greed and lust, it was not new to you, but it was rare.
“It wasn’t a tantrum,” you argued, though your tone was made weak by his lips, his tongue licking one of your nipples, making you arch your back.
He paused, “I don’t care,” he decided at once. “You’re not doing it again.”
“You don’t get to decide what I do, Jeonghan,” you mumbled breathily, moaning as his mouth wrapped around your nipple, suckling at it softly once, then swirling the tip of his tongue around it.
Jeonghan did not respond verbally to your obvious lie. He did not have a say in your choices, but there was a force greater than him or you that tied you to him. So every choice you made, every choice he made, was bound to affect you both.
“How’s your leg?” he asked, moving your thighs gently to slot his waist between them. His fingers traced a circle around the scar that was beginning to form.
“Better,” you sighed.
“Mmn,” he smirked at you, leaning over to kiss your lips. “Will it heal completely by the time I’m done eating you out?”
“Why, are you in a rush?” you quipped, arching an eyebrow at him.
There you were, he smirked. “I ache for you,” he whispered, letting his forehead fall upon yours. The shame coursing through him made you recoil but sensing it, he added quickly: “You have not only starved yourself but starved me with your stupid little plan.”
“You avoided me too,” you accused.
“I know, I was a fool,” he confessed, running his palms all over your body as if he could not do anything else. He sank down, leaving wet kisses down your tummy, his hands palming your breasts, his fingers lingering on your sensitive nipples.
You bit your lip, only in your most crazed fantasies did you dare to imagine him saying this. “You were,” you whispered. “The biggest fool.”
“Uh-huh,” he hummed, kissing your mound generously, his hands grabbing your thighs with the lightest of touches before licking your pussy with a broad stroke.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, brushing his dark hair gently as he ate you out like a starved man, licking your folds thoroughly, his tongue sliding up to your clit to then suckle at it.
You arched your back, not caring about the light pain throbbing on your thigh. Jeonghan was giving you everything you needed, giving your pussy open-mouthed kisses, drinking your arousal in with pleased moans.
“Fuck-k,” you gritted weakly, letting yourself be swept away by the gentle waves of your orgasm building inside you. “I m-missed you too, Jeonghan,” you mumbled.
He raised his gaze to yours, blinking slowly at you, pressing his tongue on your swollen clit, moving it swiftly in figure-eight motions, driving you to the edge. You gripped the bedsheets with one hand, the other flying to grab at the railings of the headboard.
“I’m close,” you gasped, breathing rapidly, welcoming the pleasure barreling through your body. “I’m close, I’m–, Jeonghan…” you closed your eyes, repeating his name over and over as you climaxed in his mouth.
But Jeonghan was not stopping. He continued making out with your pussy, enjoying the taste of your arousal pooling in your entrance, licking your folds with raunchy moans. His hands held you down as you shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm, caressing your tummy languidly.
“Jeonghan,” you called, shuddering when his hand caressed your thigh as he littered it with kisses.
“See? Healed,” he placed another kiss, right where your scar used to be.
You used your newly regained strength to push him, flipping the positions over so you were now straddling him. You let out a pleased sigh, effortlessly pinning his body down on the mattress.
“I take that you’re all set now,” he smirked, his hands roving all over your thighs.
Gods, you were a sight to behold. Your wings were at full display, resting freely at your sides. Your dark horns, curving back from the crown of your head, were on sight too. That meant you were comfortable around Jeonghan. You trusted him.
“Not yet,” you said, grabbing his hardened cock in one hand, planting the other on his abdomen for support as you eased your pussy down his length.
“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, his hands flying to grab your hips as you started rolling them on him.
“What’s wrong, hunter?” you teased, leaning down so your face was close enough to prop kisses on his lips. “Lost your footing?”
“You got me for a second there,” he admitted with a smirk. “Didn’t think you’d recuperate your strength that quickly.”
“Mm, keep that in mind next time you kiss it better,” you said, trapping his bottom lip with your teeth, nibbling it softly.
Jeonghan moaned, your hips picking up the pace mercilessly, knowing the exact pace and motion that drove him insane. He closed his eyes, sighing out the euphoric feeling of being with you, like this, consuming each other.
“It won’t happen again. You’re not doing this to yourself again,” he said with a faint tone.
“You don’t make choices for me,” you retaliated, sinking yourself down on him with pleased sighs, planting your hands on his chiselled chest.
In a blur, Jeonghan grabbed your wrists with one hand flipping your bodies over, pinning your body with his hips on yours, his hand holding your arms above your head. Jeonghan moved his hips slightly, finding your entrance with his hard cock quite effortlessly.
Jeonghan gave a few shallow thrusts, stretching your walls, making your mouth part, giving way to a long moan. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you groaned lewdly.
“Say it,” he hissed, rolling his hips on yours slowly, but pushing his cock inside you deeper each time he thrusted in. “You won’t do it again.”
“Fuck you,” you gritted, falling deeper into the puddle of pleasure he was slowly submitting you into.
“Say. It,” he commanded, his thrusts gaining strength, becoming harder at each motion of his hips on yours.
You wrestled his grip on your wrists, without using your full strength. “No,” you said with a hollow tone, the pace of his thrusts knocking the wind out of you.
“You fucking brat,” he spat, pressing his face on yours, giving you a hard kiss in the process. “Delusional little demon. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”
“Stop,” you gasped, shame heating your cheeks.
Jeonghan released his grip on your wrists, not letting you regain control by grabbing your thighs, throwing them on his shoulders before resuming with his near animalistic thrusts, groaning on your mouth as such, like an animal.
“Jeonghan!” you cried out, his cock reaching inside you deeper… and deeper.
“Did you really think… I’d stop wanting you?” he panted in between his hard thrusts, the strain in his voice telling you how close he was to his release. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”
“Jeonghan…” you moaned.
“Say it.”
“I won’t do it again,” you said, trembling on the bed, reaching out to hold him right before you came undone beneath him.
“That’s it… that’s my girl,” he gasped, his bottom lip parting, releasing a raw grunt. Jeonghan moaned your name as he came, fucking his cum inside you with sloppy thrusts until he stopped, breathing hard on top of you.
Jeonghan eased your legs from his shoulders, deciding to rest his head on your chest. The sound of your heartbeat resonated through his head as he took a long breath. Your fingers caressed his nape lazily, shuddering under him when Jeonghan ran a fingertip on one of your wings.
This made no sense. To Jeonghan, everything had been black and white. His world was rigid, surrounded by unbreakable rules that made him into the person he was until he met you. Now, he was but the shadow of the man he was. He used to hate himself for wanting you. You were the thing he was raised to hate, to kill.
He did everything to keep you away. He bedded other women, he drank himself to sleep to not dream of you, he flew himself to different parts of the world.
And there he was, blissfully nestled in your warmth, in your embrace.
“Would you hate it if I became human?”
“No,” he replied after some seconds. “But I don’t want you to do it because you think that’s going to change something between us. Some things aren’t meant to change.”
“How can you be so sure?” you asked with a tiny tone.
Jeonghan raised his head, curiously looking at you. Even back with full strength, you still clung to some human vulnerability. “I’m not sure,” he confessed. “I don’t understand many things. But I know that changing yourself won’t bring you happiness, only misery.”
“I’m just tired of this,” you said, and it did not matter that you could not cry anymore, he knew that the statement hurt to say.
Jeonghan got to his knees, pulling out of you gently to slump his body next to yours. He took one long look at you, reminiscing of what he felt when he knew you were slipping away. It was fear, that was undeniable, he was too familiar with that feeling. But never like this.
“I don’t know what to say,” he said with a light frown.
“How did you find me, Jeonghan? How did you know I was in trouble?” you dared to ask again, now your words taking another meaning.
Jeonghan paused. “I just did,” he said but rolled his eyes when you saw through his lie. “I felt something.”
“Jeonghan,” you started, your tone reducing itself to a whisper. “There is a reason why we can’t get rid of each other.”
He went rigid, his eyes coasting all over the features of your face.
“Have you ever tried to… kill me?” you asked, hating how your words came off while lying naked next to him.
“You’d know it if I had,” he said, taken aback by your questions. “Why are you asking me this?”
“There is a reason why you can’t kill me,” you said, despite how crazy you were sounding. “I know you’ve felt it…”
Jeonghan sat up on the bed, gripping the bedsheets to steady himself. He felt lightheaded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar,” you whispered, sitting up next to him.
He ran his hands on his face harshly. “Stop that. This isn’t a game.”
“The last time we saw each other, you felt something,” you pressed, searching his eyes as he faced you.
“It makes no sense,” he whispered dejectedly.
It made perfect sense. The grip that you had on him was unlike anything else he had faced. Time after time he tried to run away, to put distance between you and him. He always found his way back to you somehow, either by greed, by lust or purely by fate. He never knew why, he was bound to you.
“Look at me,” you said, and his gaze found you. “There’s no point in fighting this. I know you’ve tried it before, I tried too.”
“It’s–,”
“Impossible?” you scoffed with a mocking smile.
It was a sick joke. A demon and her hunter. The lamb and the wolf, chasing each other endlessly.
“Is this why you thought becoming human was an option?”
You paused but nodded slowly after some seconds of pondering.
Jeonghan sighed, touching your forehead with his. “That’s a high price to pay,” he whispered.
He knew your next words before you uttered them, “I’m willing to pay it, Jeonghan.”
“I don’t want you to,” he gritted out his words, even if he did not understand, he could not stop fighting it any longer. “I like you the way you are.”
Demon or not, you felt something in your chest, tugging at you. “That’s not the problem,” you shifted back, looking at his confused face.
“I can’t have any ties to anyone,” he said. “Someday I’ll end up dead fighting something stronger and quicker than me.”
“After today’s events, I think it’s clear that I am chased by the same danger.”
“I’ll grow old, and slow,” he added.
“I would too, if I were human. No one would hunt me down,” you countered, not convinced by the obfuscated look on his face. “I wouldn’t have to feed from you.”
“You could die in the process,” he said, and that was the final reason he needed.
“Jeonghan–,”
“No,” he shook his head.
At that, you stopped fighting. You got out of bed, slowly picking up your torn clothes and putting them on without looking back at him.
His heart faltered, looking at you as you sat down on the edge of the bed, next to him. “Don’t go,” he mumbled.
“Give me a reason to stay.”
Jeonghan swallowed his words, taking a last look at your eyes. Something tugged at his heart, urging him to stop you. But you were slipping through the door before he could spring to action.
Fool. He was a fool.
› author's note: heyyyooooooo
once again i have nothing to say. i just need jeonghan on his knees, begging for forgiveness and mercy
anyway, stay tuned for my next hannieween fest piece!! next post will be loser hannie!! hehe
toodles!
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#lola's recs <3#you're so evil for this v#🧍♀️#i cant#believe#this#at#all#how dare you#but im not even mad#i love this story so much
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After the TSL quiz incident
Mc: *reading volume 1 of TSL*
Levi: *entering the living room* What… what are you doing?
Mc: *without looking up* Reading
Levi: Em… yeah *looking away* I can see it… but why?
Mc: *looking straight at him* Well, after everything that's happened… I was curious, and it's actually quite interesting.
Levi: Re- really?
Mc: *nodding as moving to make room for Levi next to them* I didn't have much faith, because these things have never interested me.
Levi: *sitting down next to them, uneasy*.
Mc: But… seeing how passionate you are about it I thought it was worth giving it a chance and *smiling* it's totally been worth it.
Levi: !!! Do you really like it? what do you think of the first arc? Don't you think Henry's origin is awesome??!
Mc: *laughing* Hold on, hold on, I'm not that far along, also bear with me, there are so many characters! and I suck at names, so I have to go back to find out who is who
Levi: *approaching unconsciously* Ah! I understand what you mean, if you're not used to it it's complicated… I can make you a list if you want and add visual references!!!!
Mc: *smiling at seeing Levi so happy* I'd appreciate it.
Levi: *looking them in the eyes for the first time* You have to inform me and give me all your opinions!
Mc: Ha, ha, ha, I will.
Levi: This could be the beginning of something big Mc!!!!
Mc: I hope so Levi, I hope so.
.
.
After almost an hour of talking Levi realized what had happened and apologized again eighty times for almost sending Mc to his father😂. I feel like the relationships with the brothers were formed very quickly and without deepening, especially Levi's, so I often think about how those bonds were deepening outside of canon.
Thanks for reading 🩷 .
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#obey me#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date#obey me!#obey me! one master to rule them all#obey me one master to rule them all#omswd#om! shall we date#obey me scenarios#obey me imagine#obey me mc#mc obey me#omswd mc#om! mc#om mc#mc om#om shall we date#obey me leviathan#levi obey me#omswd leviathan#om! leviathan#om leviathan#levi om#shall we date leviathan#obey me otome#leviathan obey me#om swd
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Moment of Truth Pairing: Eddie Munson x Evil Woman Summary: Eddie is forced to have a terrifying conversation. Contains: Awkwardness, unnecessary panic, family fluff. Words: 1.4k
Eddie Munson lifts his fist to a familiar door and hesitates before knocking on it. Is he really doing this? Does this even need to be done? Can't he just…
He can feel Wayne glaring at him from across town.
He sighs and knocks gently, scrunching his eyes shut and bracing himself. He hears footsteps approach. The click of a lock. The creak of the door opening. He feels the warmth from within.
"I'd ask what you're doing up this early, but it would appear you've fallen asleep on my doorstep," an amused voice says.
Eddie opens his eyes, so nervous that he can't give that excellent greeting the smile it deserves.
"What's wrong, honey?"
It's just Mary. His girlfriend's mom. A person who feeds him multiple times a week. Keeps the cabinets stocked with his favorite snacks. Has never yelled at him or told him to get out of her house. Has declared him her favorite child, even though he's not really hers. Made him a Christmas stocking and a dang Easter basket. Why is this so hard? Why is Eddie Munson, loud-ass Eddie Munson who never shuts up, suddenly unable to form a single word?
"Do you want me to go get--" Mary gestures vaguely behind her, but Eddie shakes his head quickly. She tilts her head to the side, analyzing him. Probably seeing right through him. He's doomed. He braces himself when she opens her mouth to speak again, but what comes out is, "Will you at least come in before you catch a cold?"
Eddie stands there for a few seconds, stunned. When he comes to his senses, he nods once, and she stands aside to let him into the kitchen. Once he's inside, his body leads him to the table. To his chair. He's here so often, he has his own spot at the table. He stares at the wood grain and focuses on his breathing, trying to gather his courage. This should not be so fucking hard.
A cup of coffee slides into view. The one with the Garfield comic on it. His favorite. He reaches for the cup and takes a drink, hoping it will give him the jolt he needs.
The woman even knows how he takes his fucking coffee.
Eddie blows out a long breath and looks up at her, sitting across from him. Still in her bathrobe. Hands around her steaming mug. A curious look on her face.
"I love your daughter," Eddie finally gets out.
"I've always suspected," Mary says, trying to hide her smile behind her coffee cup.
Eddie feels a little less nervous and a little more at home with each passing second. Maybe the coffee warmed up whatever part of his brain froze on the way over here.
"I've been talking to Wayne," he explains, the words finally coming to him. "And he says you have to get the father's permission to ask a girl to marry you. I told him it was an old and outdated tradition and she'd probably kick my ass and lecture me about women's lib or something, but he insisted. 'That's the way we do things, boy'," Eddie says in his best Wayne impression. He looks up for a reaction, but there isn't one. He clears his throat and continues. "And I know she doesn't give a flying… crap about her old man. She'd die laughing if she thought I asked Gareth permission for anything. So can I ask you?"
Mary takes another sip of her coffee and appears to consider it. That's good, right? She puts her cup down and leans forward, lacing her fingers on the table. He's dead, he's so dead.
"Edward?"
"Yes, ma'am?" he asks, trying not to tremble.
"Are you asking for my permission to ask me a question?"
Eddie feels his face flush, but he nods.
"Proceed," she says, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair with a smirk that she definitely passed on to her daughter. Of course she's not going to make this easy on him. He gathers his courage. Moment of truth. Now or never. He can do this.
"CanImarryyourdaughter?"
Eddie's world stops as his words - or is just one big word? - hang in the air. He can't breathe. He can't blink. All he can do is watch the face of the person who will decide his fate. She considers it for what feels like ages, but eventually, a twinkle in her eye gives him hope.
"Eddie?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"What took you so damn long?"
Eddie lets out the breath he's been holding all morning, feeling light-headed all of a sudden. That's a yes. They laugh together and sip their coffee quietly for a moment.
"You know," she says softly, "I put on a brave face for the kids, but I was so nervous about moving here. Starting over is terrifying. It really could've gone either way. Those first few weeks weren't great. The kids didn't know anybody. Couldn't even get them to leave the house. Hawkins felt so different from home. I was starting to think we'd made a huge mistake... and then, school started. Gareth came home rambling about joining a real Dungeons and Dragons club with his new friends. And you know what my daughter said to me, after her first day at her new school? Something she'd been dreading and griping about for months?"
Eddie shakes his head.
"She said, 'Mom, I'm gonna marry the guy I sat next to in homeroom.'"
Eddie's eyes fill with tears. Mary reaches across the table and puts her hand on his.
"You've been a part of this family since the day my kids met you, Eddie," she smiles. "So yes. Yes, you absolutely have my permission to make it official and marry my daughter."
"Thank you," he whispers, wiping his stupid eyes with his free hand. Stop leaking! This is a happy occasion!
"After you both graduate," she says firmly.
Eddie nods his head in agreement.
"Why are you here?" a sleepy voice asks from behind him. Eddie whirls around in his chair and spots his future wife standing in the doorway in rumpled pajamas and messy hair. He'll never love anyone else. "And more importantly, why are you crying?" she asks, suddenly more awake.
"I'm not crying," he argues.
"Mom, what'd you do to him?" she accuses, coming to stand behind him and put her hands on his shoulders. "You know I'm the only one allowed to make him cry!"
"I'm not crying, dammit!" he insists, wiping his eyes with his fists.
"Who's crying?" Gareth yawns, appearing in the doorway.
"All of us, now that you've cloaked us in that cloud of toxic fumes you call morning breath," the Evil One snarks. Gareth sticks out his tongue and breathes at her, and she pretends to stagger and faint, landing in the chair next to Eddie. She smiles and reaches out to move a stray strand of hair out of his face.
"I'm making a breakfast casserole," her mom announces, getting up from the table.
"That takes forever," Gareth whines.
"Then go back to sleep 'til it's ready," she answers, opening a cabinet and pulling out a mixing bowl.
"Do you need help?" her daughter asks dutifully, while her son drags his feet into the living room and collapses on the couch with a grunt.
"Nope," comes the answer. "Go back to bed, you sad excuses for teenagers are all up unnaturally early."
The love of Eddie's life looks at him with tired eyes and nods her head toward the bedroom. Taking the hint, Eddie gets up and pushes his chair in. She leaves the kitchen, yawning as she goes, knowing he'll follow.
"Hey," Mary says quietly, before Eddie disappears from sight. He slowly turns to face her. She crosses the room quickly and pulls him in for a hug. "You can call me Mom if you want to."
"Really?" he whispers. Mom. That's going to take some getting used to.
"Yeah," she says, pulling back to give him a meaningful look. "But I'd rather not be Grandma just yet, if you catch my drift."
"Yes, ma'am," he says quickly, feeling his face go red again.
"Go take a nap, favorite child of mine, I'll call you when breakfast is ready."
"Kay," he grins, spinning around and heading for bed with his future fiancée.
#writings of despair#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x evil woman#eddie munson
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NRC LGBTQIA+ HCs
Those are only my thoughts and you can agree with them but you don't have to. We are all different and have our own visions. I'm quite willing to discuss or explain my visions - If you're being polite enough, I've got no time for drama. I will use He/Him for everyone - no matter what I have as a HC - because of the canon and it might be confusing for others (I, for one, often have to take a "Wait, why she?"-moment until I realize it's a HC.)
Riddle Rosehearts
He waits for the "right woman" that would "please his mothers wish". After meeting the students in NRC, especially Cater, he is curious and questioning his previous thought about being Cis/Het. Might find interest in all pronouns. I could also see him having to be more feminine because his mother wanted a girl (which could imply him having trouble with gender as a whole).
Ace Trappola
I think it's canon that he's not too fond of romantic love, so I do believe he'd be most comfortable seeing himslf as aromantic. As for the rest: He's your average cis male teenager who makes too many dick jokes for his lack of experience (but would consider himself as allosexual). Will throw hands and sees it as an insult if you call him a girl tho.
Deuce Spade
Like Mother, like son - Both Spades are bisexual in my eyes. Deuce used to be homophobic in his delinquent times but changed for the better (and realized that he disliked the idea of gay people because they "always look so happy"). Had multiple "What if"s regarding his gender (Including asking Mama Spade to treat him like her daughter for a bit, so Deuce could get a feeling for it) but it felt too weird, so he still identifies himself with his assigned gender (male) at birth - But doesn't mind it if people use they/them for him. Would be your average nervous Teenager when it comes to showing affection in any way and will blush brightly at the topic of naughty stuff.
Trey Clover
Didn't give it much thought ("If I like a person, I like them" type of mindset but had no particular romantic feelings before) before entering NRC - Where he had his first guy crush which rocked his world a little. Constantly questioning "Am I gay, bi or pan?", but his first and only crush doesn't really help and is actually the reason for his questioning in the first place. Hasn't come out at all and doesn't plan on it because he grew up that the genders of people in a relationship doesn't matter and his parents would support him as long as he's happy. "I was born as a guy, so I'm a guy, I guess. I don't really care if you use she/her for me. It'll be just a bit confusing for me at first" type of guy. After one of the night talks with Cater, he got curious about poly-relationships.
Cater Diamond
Many thoughts on his guy, many possibilities but this one story I have planned made me like the idea of trans-male Cater a lot (Mainly He/Him but doesn't mind They/Them). Funnily enough, I can also see Cater as genderfluid slaying person - That's what I mean when I say there's a lot of potential. Has too many trust and commitment issues to think of any type of relationship but he's still a bisexual king. If I had to describe a bisexual, it would be him. Wouldn't say no to a potential poly-relationship but is also intimidated by the idea because of his mental issues. Sees a lot of benefits in poly-relationships. I wouldn't be surprised if he had hooked up with someone before. Despite it all, he flirts as if his life depends on it (Which is, at least in jp, somewhat canon).
Leona Kingscholar
"I'm a guy" ahh male (in an unbothered way, not the toxic way. He's surprised if someone asks for his pronouns but respects the person just a tiny bit more for caring enough to ask in the first place). While I do believe it is hard for him to actually love someone to begin with, I'm convinced of Omniromantic and -sexual Leona.
Ruggie Bucchi
"My gender is whatever gets the job done." Based on irl hyenas, it isn't impossible for Ruggie to not be AMAB (The genitalia of a female hyena are very similar to those of a male. It led on multiple occasions to zoos attempting to breed two male hyenas). So if a job requires him to dress in drag and dance the hoola, Ruggie will do so. In theory bisexual but is too busy for actual relationships. Would absolutely come up with the wildest neopronuns to piss off Karens though.
Jack Howl
He definitely questioned himself as a young pup, especially after meeting Vil because he thought he might have a crush on him but he was proven wrong later on. Definitely one of the few straight guys in NRC. The more genderqueer people he meets, the more worried he gets about peoples pronouns because he used to be the type to look at a person and guess based on whatever vibes they give off. Now he doesn't know which pronouns to use, so he often uses they/them unless told otherwise (Has a non-verbal pact with Deuce to let each other know what kind of pronouns people have - if the other person knows).
Azul Ashengrotto
I'm making this based on irl male octopi and their nature of dying after having sex for the first and only time: So with that in mind, I do believe that Azul wouldn't want to be sexually active at all (That and his insecuities aboout his body would probably stop him too). I definitely picture him as a helpless romantic once he does fall for a person, though (demiromantic maybe?). Definitely ne for the males, both his gender and his potential partner. He has absolutely questioned his gender and maybe even secretly owns a floor-length dress he wears in his room when his mind wanders off to question potential genders again.
Jade Leech
I will never not talk about AroAce Jade. I could write an essay about AroAce Jade but I won't. Just yes. Could potentially be bi-gender though. Likes to mess with people "You think I'm a guy? Is this not a little too narrow minded? ... What? Oh no, I'm not a woman."
Floyd Leech
Raging homosexual. His type? "If he can rock my bottom, I'm vibing", but his potential boyfriend needs to be able to keep up with his nature. Only his boyfriend sees a rare soft and sweet side from time to time, trust. (I've seen people have the HC of Floyd being a She/Her lesbian and I personally can only see it if we're talking about genderbend Floyd but I'm not here to comment on other people's HCs. I just wanted to mention my sight on genderbend Floyd too). Is a He/Him guy but wore dresses and skirts before but only very wide ones or the type that have a deep cut in it - For free legs (It's canon that he doesn't like tight clothes, so I'm working this into the HC.)
Kalim Al-Asim
"I'm a guy but I can be your big sister too, if you want to haha!" Would absolutely dress feminine if he feels like it. Likes to dance in very fancy and wide dresses and skirts because they look pretty when you do a twirl. Also very pansexual, just wants to love.
Jamil Viper
Is used to dress up feminine because Najma makes him wear her clothes sometimes, so she can see if it looks any good. Much like Ruggie, doesn't care about gender as long as it gets the job done and has been often enough addressed as a girl (Especially if the person saw Jamil only from behind) to stop caring about pronouns. Has many reasons not to want to be in a relationship but swings both ways in theory.
Vil Schoenheit
Gender? "Yes." Did you expect anything less than all genders for THE Vil Schoenheit? Come on now. Extremely demisexual and -romantic. Clothes have no gender (his canon statement, Book 5), so he has worn all types of clothes with confidence and comfort.
Rook Hunt
Lithromantic (Basically: Attraction exists until the target of your affection likes you back). Gender doesn't matter for a partner or Rook, but "it/its" pronouns are extremely interesting to the Hunter.
Epel Felmier
Homophobic, both internal and external. "I'm a man!" but in the toxic way. I see trans-male Epel HCs (and justify his dislike of "girly" things with that) a lot and I really like them as well but the idea of this toxic cis-het white guy Epel is much more entertaining to me - Let this guy be annoying for the sake of being annoying, not everything needs an emotional reason :> He's a little fruit tho even if he denies it (I mean, he's in Pomefiore for a reason /hj).
Idia Shroud
"I don't do love, I don't do sex, I don't do gender. Do not perceive me." Tbh I dont have any particular HCs for Idia, I just go with whatever I see in media, if it works out with my interpretation of Idia ofc. I don't believe that Idia would be quick to love though (especially after Eliza).
Ortho Shroud
Again, I don't have many HCs on my own but I've seen both trans-male and trans-female Ortho HCs and I like 'em both.
Malleus Draconia
Knows he needs to bring up an heir eventually but hasn't found the right person yet. Isn't exactly sure about his own sexuality but is certain he'll know once he finds "the right person". Is a little confused by "new" genders, so he just settles with the classic He/Him for himself - Tries his best to respect Neopronouns and trans folk. Will ask a lot of questions if you come out to him as anything that is not your assigned gender - Both out of curiosity and because he doesn't want to mess up. Has been raised to be supportive through Lilia.
Lilia Vanrouge
Man, Woman, prefer not to say, Other, Croissant - It's all Lilias. You're a Non-Binary person? Lilia absorbs whatever your assigned gender at birth was. You're trans? Lilia will trade your assigned gender with whatever you identify as. It's also pretty much canon that he's bisexual, so there's that - I'm pretty sure he hesitates about relationships due to his previous experiences with Meleanor and Raverne. Has definitely made out with Baul when they were younger.
Silver
When you ask Silver what he likes, he'll tell you about his sword (the object, not a naughty reference to his genitalia). If you'll correct yourself and mean as in a person, he'll tell you that he doesn't care what the gender of his opponent in a battle is - He just hopes they'll good enough to help him learn how to improve his skills. In short: His duties and interests matter to Silver much more than something like love or sexual intercourse. (Same applies if you ask about his own gender: "I'm.. a guy? But I don't see where this matters right now.")
Sebek Zigvolt
Used to be a raging homophobe until Lilia sat him down and had a looong talk with him. "I'm not queer", proceeds to explain how overrated the concept of love is and how his duties should never be interrupted by something as trivial as romantic relationships (He doesn't get that this mindset has a lot of AroAce weight in it - which means he's queer). He's overall a little confused, but he's got the spirit. Will correct people very loudly if they misgender his friends or close ones. Will also regularly ask Lilia in the morning what kind of pronoun-day is (Lilia has considered to wear different colored bracelets, so Sebek doesn't have to ask every morning.)
#twisted wonderland#twst#riddle rosehearts#ace trappola#deuce spade#trey clover#cater diamond#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#jack howl#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#kalim al asim#jamil viper#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#epel felmier#idia shroud#ortho shroud#malleus draconia#lilia vanrouge#twst silver#sebek zigvolt
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Hi there! I just read through a few of your long form posts -- the one about the boss and the glue traps and the lizards, the one about the friend and the radishes and the cop, and the one about the breakup and the car and the neighbor's car and your dad -- and I'm just really blown away by your writing. And I'm just curious, are they actual experiences or are they fiction? They read like actual experiences, and the writing is so naturalistic and...idk, low key sweet, stream of consciousness without the major sidetracking that often happens in stream of consciousness writing and also more...more poetical in a way, I guess. I don't know. Are you published or wanting to? I mean I couldn't help with that or anything but if you've got a book out I'd love to read it.
Patrick McManus was kind of THE legendary writer to my family. When my dad was a kid, he'd sit on the porch the door that the monthly copy of Outdoor Life was going to arrive, and as soon as he got it, he'd run in with it and take it to his dad, who would gather all his kids around and read the stories out loud.
My dad loved it because his dad would make a whole performance out of the readings: He'd do voices, pantomimes, dramatic sound effects, the works. The stories are amazing, but the out-of-character behavior from his dad was half the selling point. Grandpa Hank was, to his core, a good man. But he was gruff, and socially, pretty stiff, and he didn't often show emotion. I think my dad said he saw him tear up one time growing up, and it was when he got dropped off at the MTC. My mom was married to my dad for three years before Grandpa Hank was comfortable enough to sit down in their house, and he liked her. That's just how he was.
(You just praised me for not getting sidetracked, but I'm letting myself wander down those memories a bit. He died last year. I miss him terribly.)
Anyway: Those stories were how I first started learning how to spin a yarn. I got older and I got more influence than just cowboys and Westerns, but the soul of my style is still just The American Tall Tale.
Which is to say that they're not outright fabrications. When I say that I cut all the worms up in my backyard and had a panic attack and hid in a tree until my mom got me, that happened. But I only remember the vaguest outlines of the words that were said. When there's a line in that story about my mom telling me that she's sure the worms will forgive me because they got six hearts to love and no bones to pick, that's not how she talks. That's how I talk.
Other stories, they're far less fuzzy than that, but I can still point out things I don't know. Wrestling story was from middle school, and a lot of those "crisp details" are just me painting by vibe. I've had some people that did wrestling through highschool point out things like refs not actually counting to three, or how double-legs are not actually super effective for tall wrestlers. I don't actually know how much the woman I wrestled weighed, nor do I remember how much I weighed, except that I was more than two weight classes smaller than her. Car incident, I got broke up with, went to her parents door, waited on the lawn, and was given some olives to go with a wireless phone. But exact wording of a lot of the people involved fails me. As a rule, the weirder an event is, the more likely I am to be distinctly remembering it and not just filling in the background. Except for dialogue, which often turns out weird because when I have to make up things for other characters to say, it carries too much of my own speaking style in it, and that's always been weird.
There are even points where things do come right off the rails. In the stories about J post, J himself became a sort of mythic figure after he moved, and lot of the stories about him, I don't even know I'm remembering them first hand or second hand from a story someone else shared with me.
I know it would be easier to just go, yeah, they're true, or no, they're not, but I did a weird thing and mixed them up and now even I'm a little confused.
Regarding publishing: I'm not published, and the thought of trying to get published scares the shit out of me. I
I don't know. If anyone has advice, I'd be interested.
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bae where you at😞 | chapter 5
warnings: suggestive
🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼🪼
as you are walking to class you make sure to take quick glances searching for a recognizable face of a certain person. with no luck of finding said person and the sight of your classroom coming into view you sigh and decide you’ll check after class ends.
walking out of class with jeno next to you, the conversation between you both is lively, but you make sure to pay attention to the people around. “y/n.” you hear a recognizable voice that stops you in your tracks. turning around you see intak with a frown on his face. sensing that jeno was going to do something you grab his wrist and smile “i’ll be fine, you can head off without me” your words cause jeno to frown even more “are you sure” he says raising a brow. all you do is nod, he sighs and tells you to text him if you need him before walking off.
looking at the tall man in front of you who just so happens to have gotten closer you raise a brow “what do you want?” the curiosity and anxiousness filling your voice. “we gotta talk.” intak says in a stern voice that you aren’t surprised by. next thing you know you’re in a verbal arguement in the middle of the hall with intak. passerby’s look at you two with annoyance and confusion.
“fuck you intak!” you yell out and turn away, but intak grabs your wrist and yanks you back to him. “don’t you dare turn away from me.” anger fills his voice and you can tell he’s absolutely fuming which causes you to get nervous. while the both of you continue to stand in the hall arguing two figures are walking in the same hall.
“markkkk just help me find her” haechan pouts holding onto marks arm. “dude i don’t even know what she looks like” mark says obviously annoyed and rips his arm away from haechan’s hold. haechan whips his phone out, goes to your twitter, and shows mark a picture of you. mark’s eyes widen “no way she wants to date YOU?!” he yells out grabbing haechan’s phone to look closer. “what is that supposed to mean.” haechan raises a brow as mark opens his mouth to say something his attention is directed to two figures arguing ahead of him. “what’s going on over there?” haechan asks curious, as they walk closer he recognizes the girl. “MARK THATS HER” he whisper yells grabbing mark tightly.
“intak let go!” they both hear you yell watching as you struggle to get out of the taller man’s grasp. before mark can even open his mouth haechan is already walking over there “w-wait..haechan!” mark whisper yells slightly freaking out ‘he’s gonna get his ass whooped..’ his thoughts already playing out a scene of haechan getting pummeled.
haechan comes up from behind you and grabs intak’s wrist “hey when a lady asks you to let go of her you should” haechan pouts. intak shakes haechan’s grip off which means he finally let go of your wrist. “and who are you?” intak questions with attitude “her boyfriend” haechan smiles as you turn around and gasp “you’re here…” you say quietly under your breath. haechan looks down at you and smiles sweetly “you okay?” he asks tilting his head slightly all you do is nod too speechless by how gorgeous he looks in person.
intak scoffs “yeah right” he rolls his eyes “look dude you don’t gotta pretend, she’s not even good at girlfriend shit.” you look at intak annoyed “if you’re talking about what i THINK you’re talking about then you better shut your mouth quick, because i have no problem telling people how you’d call me mommy in bed” you scoff placing a hand on your hip. intak’s jaw drops and he looks around at the people who are watching. “it’s not true!” he yells out running off.
you giggle and turn around to a shocked haechan. “nah that’s some freaky shit” he mumbles causing you to scoff “oh please you look like you’d call me mommy too” you pat his chest “thanks by the way” you place a kiss on his cheek and walk away.
mark comes up from behind haechan and wraps a arm around his neck “dude.” he says obviously shocked, but no one is more shocked than haechan. he deadass looks like this emoji 😧.
notes: i hope my writing is okay😞
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taglist: @t-102 @ypoom151999 @snoopyjimin @elsbunny @mr1833 @stqrgr7 @injunnie-lemon @theandypark @defzcl @yewshi @dudekiss3r @rihaee @multifandomania @iamsimplyasimp @antosaurius
if your user is bright that means i couldn’t tag you💔
#haechan#haechan smau#haechan x reader#haechan x y/n#haechan x you#kpop fic#kpop smau#nct#nct 127#nct dream#nct smau#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#nct fanfic#kpop
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Invisible | Part 23
Bucky x reader AU
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: Tiny smidge of brief angst, but flufffff
A/N: Only a few more chapters to go..... 😭🫶🏻
The warm scent of roasted vegetables and garlic filled Sam’s apartment as he moved around the kitchen, Wanda and Natasha chatting at the table. A few candles flickered on the counter, their soft light casting a cozy glow. The night had started lighthearted, with jokes and reminiscing about old times, but there was an underlying tension—Sam had been quieter than usual.
As the three of them sat down to eat, Sam finally cleared his throat, breaking the casual flow of conversation. “So, there’s something I need to tell you both.”
Wanda and Natasha exchanged curious glances, but Natasha was the first to speak. “What’s up?”
Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been offered a big promotion at the VA. It’s… it’s a lot more responsibility, a lot more pay, and honestly, it’s kind of my dream job.”
“That’s amazing!” Wanda said, clapping her hands together. “Congratulations, Sammy! You deserve it.”
Natasha smiled, but her brow furrowed slightly. “That is amazing! Buuuuut, why do you look like someone just told you your dog died?”
Sam let out a nervous laugh, fiddling with the edge of his napkin. “Because there’s a catch. The job’s in Washington... I’ll be moving in a week and a half.”
The table fell silent. Wanda’s excitement dimmed slightly, her smile softening. “Oh, Sam… that’s… wow.”
Natasha leaned back in her chair, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s a big change.”
“It is,” Sam admitted. “But it’s the right move for me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m excited, but leaving all of you behind? That’s the hard part.”
Wanda reached across the table, placing a hand over his. “We’re happy for you, Sam. Really. We’ll miss you, but this is huge.”
Natasha nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll miss you like crazy, but you’ve got to do what’s best for you, and we'll always be here you know that"
Sam smiled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, guys that really means a lot.”
Sam took a sip of his beer, his eyes darting between Wanda and Natasha as if he was working up the nerve to say something else.
“Who else knows?” Wanda asked cutting him off, taking a sip of her beer.
“Well, now that you both know, I should probably let you in on a little secret,” Sam said, his tone teasing but hesitant. “You two are actually the last ones to find out, don't hate me"
Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “The last ones?” she asked, her voice tinged with mock offense. “Wow, Sam. Save the best for last?”
Sam chuckled. “Exactly. Had to save the best for last, thats right!.... I told Bucky first—obviously…then Y/N, then Steve.”
Wanda leaned forward, smirking. “So, basically, you told everyone else first.”
“Listen,” Sam said, holding his hands up defensively. “I wanted to tell everyone together, but, uh, let’s just say there’s been a lot going on lately.” His gaze flicked to Natasha for a split second before he looked away.
Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sam hesitated, taking another sip of his beer. “Well, I, uh… I heard about what Steve said to her after the whole thing between you two.”
Natasha froze, her expression hardening. “What do you mean? What did Steve say?”
Sam’s lips parted, then closed as he struggled to find the right words. Wanda’s head whipped toward him. “You’re not just gonna leave us hanging, are you?”
Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Look, it’s not really my place to say what exactly happened. But… yeah, I heard about it all"
Natasha’s jaw tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “We haven’t talked all week. After I told her we, I needed space, we’ve been taking that seriously this time.”
Wanda nodded slowly, her voice soft. “She hasn’t mentioned it to me either. We’ve just been talking about the little trip Bucky planned for them.”
"What trip?" Natasha questioned "I didn't know about a trip"
Wanda sighed "They're at that Cabin you all went to for summer when you were kids, and too be fair you asked for space from her not the other way around, probably why she didn't tell you...."
Natasja groaned rubbing her hands over her eyes. Sam’s gaze softened, his usual teasing edge replaced with concern. “Nat, I think she's been through a lot lately. She didn’t tell me much, but I know she ran into Steve after she left you, and well he said some pretty outta pocket things to her.”
Natasha blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to process his words. “What… what things?”
Sam shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.... But from what I’ve pieced together, She’s been carrying a lot on her shoulders—between the things with you, what Steve said both times, and just… everything.”
Natasha’s expression was unreadable, her eyes distant. After a long pause, she murmured, “I should’ve handled things better. I let my feelings get in the way, and now…”
Sam reached across the table, resting his hand on hers. “Nat, it’s not too late. You and her have been through worse and come out stronger. Just… don’t let this fester for too long”
Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Start by talking to her. You know she’s always willing to hear you out, you’re besties for a reason”
Sam nodded, his tone firm but kind. “Exactly. You’ve both been through too much together to let something like this tear you apart.”
Natasha exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll try. I just… I didn’t realize how much I let this all spiral. Ugh, thanks guys.”
He gave her a small grin. “Hey, what are friends for? Besides, I can’t move away knowing my kids aren’t playing nice.”
Wanda burst into laughter, smacking his arm playfully. “Your kids?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, shrugging with mock seriousness. “I need all my children to get along before I leave. I can’t abandon this dysfunctional little family otherwise.”
Natasha let out a reluctant chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, Dad. We’ll figure it out.”
Sam raised his beer. “That’s all I ask. Now, who’s ready for dessert? I made brownies, and I’m not letting you two leave without trying them.”
As the brownies were passed around the table, the mood lightened, but Sam couldn’t shake the subtle tension radiating from Natasha. He glanced at Wanda, who gave him an encouraging nod, as if silently urging him to address the elephant in the room, the one between him and Wanda, the one Natasha didn't even know about. Wanda only knew because she got here 30 minutes before Natasha and Sam thought who better to ask if he should tell her what he knew than someone who lived with Natasha 24/7 and knew her like the back of her hand.
Sam took a deep breath, setting down his beer. “Hey, Nat,” he started casually, but there was a seriousness to his tone that made her look up. “There’s, uh… something else I think you should know.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, already bracing herself. “What now, Sam? You moving to the moon next?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Nah, this one’s not about me. It’s about Steve.”
Her posture stiffened at the mention of his name, but she tried to play it off. “What about him?”
Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “When I talked to Steve recently, he mentioned something… about you.”
Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her lips tightening. “What exactly did he say?”
Wanda’s gaze darted between them, her brow furrowing with concern. “Sam, don’t dance around it.”
He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, she told Steve that you’re in love with him.”
Natasha froze, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into a sharp glare. “She what?”
Sam held up his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. She didn’t mean anything by it. It just… came out.”
Natasha pushed back from the table, standing abruptly. “Why the hell would she say that? That wasn’t hers to tell.”
Wanda reached out, trying to calm her. “Nat, wait—”
“No, Wanda,” Natasha snapped, pacing the length of the kitchen. “I didn’t want him to know! Not like that. Not—God, why would she do that?”
Sam stood, keeping his voice calm. “Because she thought he deserved to know, Nat. She wasn’t trying to hurt you. She cares about you, and she thought—”
“Thought what?” Natasha interrupted, spinning on her heel to face him. “That I needed her to play matchmaker? That I couldn’t handle my own feelings?”
“Natasha,” Wanda said gently, standing as well. “She didn’t mean to overstep. You know she’s just been trying to keep everyone together.”
Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, she’s doing a great job of it, isn’t she?”
Sam sighed, stepping closer. “Nat, come on. You know her. She’s not trying to make things worse. She’s just… juggling a lot right now. And so are you.”
Natasha shook her head, her frustration palpable. “I don’t even know what to do with this. Steve hasn’t said a damn thing to me about it. Does he know how humiliating that is?”
Sam hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Maybe he’s trying to figure it out... You’ve had feelings for him for years, and he’s been untangling his own mess with her. It’s a lot for everyone.”
Natasha’s jaw tightened, her emotions warring on her face. After a long moment, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just… I didn’t want him to know like this. It feels so… exposed.”
The tension in the kitchen hung heavy as Natasha paced, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Wanda, seated at the small dining table with her glass of wine, raised her hands to diffuse the brewing storm. “Okay, but to be fair, Nat… you meddled between Bucky and Y/N for years. You practically shoved them together.”
Natasha stopped mid-step, her head snapping toward Wanda. “That’s different.”
Sam, leaning casually against the counter with a brownie in one hand and a beer in the other, raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How exactly is it different?”
Natasha’s jaw tightened, her voice clipped. “Because they were obviously in love with each other. Anyone with eyes could see that. They just needed a push—a little guidance.”
Wanda wasn’t buying it, her expression skeptical. “And what exactly do you think you and Steve are?”
Natasha rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s not the same, Wanda. Steve doesn’t…” Her words faltered, the usually sharp edge of her tone softening just slightly. “He doesn’t feel that way about me.”
Wanda sat up straighter, her voice gentler but still firm. “You don’t know that. You’re assuming, just like Y/N assumed with Bucky for years. Maybe it’s not the same, Nat, but… if you’re not even willing to try, how will you ever know?”
Natasha scoffed, clearly uncomfortable, her fingers tapping nervously against the counter. “It’s not about trying, okay? Steve’s not… he’s still hung up on her. Everyone and there pet knows that. I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”
Sam, who had been quiet through most of the exchange, let out a low whistle. “Yikes, this got real heavy, real fast.”
Natasha shot him a look, but Sam raised his brownie defensively. “Hey, I’m just saying. All this angst? It’s like being back in college.”
Wanda couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension breaking slightly. Natasha’s lips twitched, but her frustration still simmered beneath the surface.
Wanda placed a comforting hand on Natasha’s arm. “You have every right to feel the way you do. But maybe this is a chance to finally have that conversation with him. No more guessing, no more waiting.”
Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes glistening slightly. “Yeah, because those conversations always go so well,” she muttered bitterly.
Sam reached out, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Nat, you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Thanks, Dad.”
Wanda smiled softly, her voice teasing. “Hey, he’s just trying to get all his kids on good terms before he leaves.”
That finally earned a small, reluctant smile from Natasha. She looked at Sam, her anger softening. “I’ll figure it out. But if this goes sideways, you’re explaining to Steve why I threw his ass out a window.”
Sam grinned. “Deal.”
Before anyone could say more, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. The door opened, and Steve walked in, looking tired but still managing to offer a small smile. “Hey.”
Sam perked up immediately, pushing off the counter. “Perfect timing Stevie. Brownie or beer?” He held up both as an offering.
Steve chuckled lightly, hanging his jacket by the door. “Why not both?” he replied, running a hand through his hair before stepping into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”
The three of them exchanged a quick glance before Wanda, ever the smooth one, piped up. “Oh, you know. Just solving the world’s problems over alcohol and baked goods.”
Steve’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Natasha, who quickly busied herself with clearing a nonexistent mess on the counter. “You okay?” he asked her directly, his tone quiet and concerned.
Natasha didn’t meet his eyes, her voice brisk. “Fine. Just tired.”
Steve didn’t push, nodding slowly before reaching for the beer Sam had handed him. “Well, I’m gonna chug this beer and devour some brownies, long day.”
As he moved toward the living room, Wanda watched him go, then turned to Natasha. “You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually, you know.”
Natasha shot Wanda a warning look, but her shoulders sagged slightly as she leaned against the counter. “I know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sam, finishing his brownie, clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s my cue. I’ll let you ladies work out all the feelings. Steve and I are gonna dive into this six-pack.” He winked and walked toward the living room, leaving Natasha and Wanda in a lingering silence.
Natasha finally sat down across from Wanda, swirling her glass of wine but not drinking. “I don’t know if I can, Wanda. Talk to him, I mean.”
Wanda tilted her head, her voice soft. “Why not?”
Natasha let out a bitter laugh. “Because I’ve been standing on the sidelines for years. Watching him pine for her, knowing I’d never measure up. How do you even start a conversation after that?”
Wanda reached across the table, her fingers brushing Natasha’s. “You start by being honest. No more sidelines, Nat. You deserve to be happy too.”
Natasha’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away. “Easier said than done.”
Wanda smiled gently. “Yeah, but the best things usually are.”
As they finished dessert, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. Sam stood to start clearing plates, and Natasha leaned back in her chair, glancing over at Steve. “Hey, you mind stepping out to the balcony with me for a second?”
Steve raised an eyebrow but nodded, grabbing his beer before following her outside.
The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the balcony. Natasha leaned against the railing, her arms crossed as she stared out at the skyline.
Steve joined her, standing a few feet away. “What’s on your mind?”
Natasha hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tightly. Finally, she sighed and turned to face him. “Sam told me you know.”
Steve’s brow furrowed. “About what?”
She rolled her eyes. “About me, how I feel about you.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his expression softening. “So it’s true.”
“Yeah,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “It’s true.”
Steve stepped closer, resting his beer on the railing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it didn’t matter,” Natasha said, her tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “You were always looking at her. Always chasing after her. And I was… I don’t know. Just there.”
Steve’s jaw tightened, his gaze falling to the floor. “That’s not fair, Nat.”
“No,” she snapped, “what’s not fair is sitting on the sidelines, watching the person you love pine after someone else. Watching them hurt over and over, knowing there’s nothing you can do because they don’t see you that way.”
Steve’s eyes met hers, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn’t,” Natasha said bitterly. “Because you were too busy looking through me.”
Silence hung heavy between them, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha held up a hand, stopping him.
“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” she said, her voice softer now. “I just… I needed to say it. For me.”
Steve nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Nat. For not seeing you. For making you feel like you didn’t matter.”
She offered a small, bittersweet smile. “I know you didn’t mean to. But it doesn’t change how it felt.”
Steve reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You matter to me. You always have.”
Natasha shook her head, stepping back. “I can’t do this, Steve. Not right now. You need to figure out what you want—who you are—before you even think about coming back to me.”
Her words hung in the air, final and unwavering. Steve nodded, his heart heavy with regret. “I understand.”
“Good,” Natasha said, her voice steady. “Because I’m not going to wait around forever.”
With that, she turned and walked back inside, leaving Steve alone on the balcony, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He stared out at the city, his mind racing with everything he’d lost and everything he might never have.
The cabin glowed warmly under the soft flicker of candlelight and the crackling fire. The bottle of wine between you and Bucky was nearly empty, the two of you leaning comfortably against the couch on the plush rug. You took a sip from your glass, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, when Bucky suddenly set his glass down and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?" you asked
"For loving me, for letting me love you."
You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. "There's nothing and no one i'd rather have than you, Buck."
“I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.
You tilted your head, smiling softly at him. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”
He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “It’s about what you told me… about Steve. What he said to you. That you shouldn’t be with me, that you should be with him.”
You exhaled slowly, setting your own glass down. “Bucky…”
“It’s been bugging me,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours, vulnerable and searching. “I mean, do you—do you think he really meant that? Or was he just… hurting?”
You reached out and took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “Bucky, I think Steve was hurting. A lot. But there’s no way he really meant it. And even if he did… it wouldn’t matter. You’ve been my person since we were kids.”
His lips twitched into a small smile. “Really?”
You nodded, your voice softening. “Do you remember the first time you tried to push me on the swing? You said, ‘Sit here. I got you.’ Then you fell on your ass and scraped your knee.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I wasn’t exactly smooth, was I?”
“No,” you teased, leaning closer. “But you’ve always been there for me, Buck. Always. I’ve never had a single doubt about that.”
Bucky’s shoulders relaxed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you. I just… I needed to hear it. With everything that’s been happening—with Steve, and now with Natasha.”
You hesitated for a moment before nodding. “What do you think is going to happen with them?”
Bucky sighed, leaning back against the couch and pulling you closer so you were tucked under his arm. “I don’t know. Natasha’s tough as nails, but Steve? He’s in his head a lot. They both deserve to be happy, though. Hopefully, they figure it out… together.”
“I hope so too,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder. “They both deserve a happy ending.”
The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of the topic settling between you. Then you shifted, sitting up and looking at him. “Speaking of happy endings… Sam told me.”
Bucky blinked. “Told you what?”
“About his promotion, the big move.” You studied his face, waiting for his reaction.
Bucky let out a sigh, his thumb brushing against your hand. “I wanted to tell you, but he asked me not to. I’m sorry—”
“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You don’t get to apologize for that. Sam trusted you with something big. I could never be mad at you for keeping that promise.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly. “It’s gonna be weird, though. Him being halfway across the country.”
“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “It’s going to be weird for all of us.”
Bucky shifted, his hand gently cupping your cheek and turning you to face him. “We’ll figure it out. Just like we always do.”
You smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “You and me, right?”
“Always,” he said softly.
You let the moment linger before a thought struck you. “So… what’s our next step?”
Bucky frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” you said, gesturing vaguely, “we’re together, but we’re still living as roommates. Two separate bedrooms, two lives in one space. What do we want to do about that?”
Bucky tilted his head, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “What do you want, doll?”
You hesitated, your cheeks warming under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. “I’d love to get a house someday,” you murmured, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty. “Something with a backyard. Maybe even some space for… you know.”
Bucky’s lips quirked into a teasing smile, his blue eyes sparkling. “Kids?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.
“Maybe,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. “What about you? Do you… want that?”
He didn’t answer right away, but the way his expression softened made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. The weight of his next words felt like a vow. “A house, a backyard, a family. With you?” His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with emotion. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Your chest tightened, the sheer sincerity in his tone leaving you breathless. But then, his lips twitched into a grin as he added, “But… in New York?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers brushing against his scruffy jaw. “Maybe… Boston?” you offered, the word feeling both foreign and perfect on your tongue.
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin widening into something radiant. “I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you,” he said earnestly. Then, his tone shifted, a playful but serious edge creeping in. “But you know, we don’t have to wait.”
Your brows furrowed slightly, tilting your head in question. “What do you mean?”
Bucky’s hands slid to your waist, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your sides as he leaned closer, his voice low and certain. “I mean, I don’t want to wait to start my life with you—our life. I think we’ve waited long enough. If we both want this, why not now? Time’s never on anyone’s side, and I don’t want to waste another second without having all of this with you.”
Your breath hitched at the raw truth in his words, your heart thudding wildly in your chest. “You really mean that?” you asked, your voice a shaky whisper.
He smiled, his lips brushing softly against yours before he pulled back just enough to answer. “I do. I just want to live my life with you already. So…” His eyes searched yours, his voice dropping to something intimate and vulnerable. “Boston?”
You felt the word settle deep inside you, grounding and exhilarating all at once. “Boston,” you whispered back, nodding as your lips curved into a smile.
Bucky’s grin returned, wide and boyish, and before you could say another word, he cupped your face and kissed you, long and sweet, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes shone with happiness. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that.”
You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I think I have some idea.”
He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one lingering and slow. “Boston,” he murmured again, as if savoring the sound of it. “It’s going to be amazing, doll. Us, a house, a backyard…” His grin turned mischievous. “Maybe even a dog before the kids, huh?”
You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly full. “One step at a time, Barnes.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#sebastian stan x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes angst#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x reader angst#bucky barnes au#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#james barnes x you#seb stan fanfic#sebastian stan
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bad time, good time: nishimura riki
| pairning: nishimura riki x reader
I genre: fashionmajor!niki, lawmajor!reader
I warnings: no warnings <3
I word count: 1.5k
I stefy's note: i know i should be focusing on the jungwon series but i suddenly got this idea at 3 am (i mean who isn't obsessed with korean convenience stores now lol), so enjoy :)
[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]
"Towards the middle of the thirteenth century inquisitorial procedure..." You felt your eyes glaze over the page once again, trying to focus on the words once again. Finally checking the clock on the wall opposite to your desk on the right side, to your surprise it showed 2 am.
No wonder why you felt tired in the first place. You've been studying and writing assignments ever since you woke up. Exams were coming soon so you couldn't and shouldn't be waisiting any time. Getting you out of your thoughts was the sound of your stomach rumbling which reminded you of your hunger.
Shit. Yeah. Maybe some snacks and ramen would help.
That's how you found yourself looking at the ramen isle in the small convenience not sure what kind of buldak ramen to have for dinner. Holding tightly onto the plastic glass cup filled with ice and the grape ade plastic bag you tiptoed hoping to reach the top shelf. You couldn't reach the one you wanted, before an arm extended from behind you and grabbed the ramen cup for you.
"Here!" Niki said, handing the ramen to you. Turning around to take the cup ramen from his hand you're met with a pair of brown eyes. The mysterious man was tall from what you could grasp.
Not wanting to stare for longer than expected, you answer. "Thanks." Pausing for a moment, you continue on the same surpirsed tone not expecting him to help you. "You didn't have to." Taking the cup ramen from his hand you take another look at him.
"Carbonara, huh?" Niki asked with a small grin on his face as he looks at the floor, then at your choice of noddles for dinner. It shouldn't be a surprise that you would choose the carbonara noodles since they're the best. Of course.
Seeing your confused face he decides to tease you. "You might need some cheese for that." Niki points at the sides isle hoping to make you understand what he meant in the first place.
"Yeah." You answer realizing that you forgot to get some cheese as buldak noodles are always better with a bit of cheese. Pausing to somehow manage to explain yourself you continue on the same confessing tone. "I totally forgot."
"I'm Niki, by the way." Niki says finally introducing himself, thinking it was high time he does so since you have been talking for some time now.
Extending his hand you take it hesitantly before introducing yourself to him. "Y/N." Shaking his hand you give him a shy smile before turning to leave and get the cheese you talked about until then.
"I guess i'll see you around." Niki adds seeing that you looked almost rushed to be anywhere but here. It was clear that he wanted to continue talking to you, but that was not the case for you.
Or so he thought.
Laying down onto the bed tiredly you open the history book to get back to reading you think to yourself. "Niki." Taking a bite from the noodles followed by a sip of the grape ade you bought moments ago you decide to check his instagram, hoping to at least to find some more information about him. To say the least, you were curious.
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| INSTAGRAM POST - NOV 15th.
niki_kikiki
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wonkiten he's not a baby mandu anymore
icehoon where's my credit
user01 THE SECOND PICTURE?! OMGG NI-KII 😫
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What the actual fuck? How does he look so handsome? And in a suit also. What's his major?
Taking another bite from the noodles as you decide to check another photo from his instagram hoping to see him in a different outfit and a hint probably of his major. That's when you clicked on the most recent photo that he had posted only to see that it was posted 5 hours ago.
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| INSTAGRAM POST - 5 hours ago.
niki_kikiki
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catseong coolest dude i'm so serious
byfsjy WOAHH OKAYY BUDDY OKAY
user02 THE THIRD PICTURE HELLO!?!!!?
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As you were just about to take a sip of the grape ade you boughts hours ago seeing those pictures definetly shocked you. He looked so good. So hot.
Finally finishing your meal after taking one last look at Nikis instagram photos you get the history book that has been onto the bed the whole time. Looking over the pages trying to get back to reading the last word you remember is "Inquisition" before darkness steals your vision living you blind.
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Days later you found yourself in the same convenience store looking at the same ramen isle trying to choose what to have for dinner. Shaking you off your thoughts, as you were about to reach for your usual carbonara buldak noodles is a deep voice, almost familiar. Behind you.
Putting his hand against the metalic shelf, consequently trapping you between his body and the isle. "I didn't think i would see you again." Niki confesses in a low voice.
Turning around to be met with the same dark brown eyes from two days ago as you slightly blushed. Tilting your head you look at him confused for a second as you didn't expect to see him either. Especially not at this hour. "Well i'm here." You answer him not knowing exactly what to say.
Coming closer with his body to yours, Niki extends his hand to take two carbonara buldak noodles cups. He was close. Too close. Taking both of the noddle cups into his hand and holding them into his hand Niki finally answers you. "I was thinking..." Pausing for a second to rub the back of his neck as he looked down onto the floor he continues in a low voice. "Maybe we could eat together here."
Holding onto the plastic cup filled with ice and this time, a peach ice tea you looked at him and then onto the floor blushing. One thing was for sure, that you didn't expect to hear him say that. Before you could answer him or at least let him know what you felt about this idea his deep voice interrupts you.
"Here...I meant anywhere, not only here." Niki explains himself to you, hoping also for a positive answer. "We could eat somewhere else." Niki adds as he continues to explain himself to you. Giving you more ideas to where you two could eat together.
"I would love to" You answer him as you come closer hoping to calm him down as you could see that he wanted to continue talking. Looking at what he was holding into his hand you then decide to ask him in a teasing voice wanting to have less tension between the two of you. "Are you only getting ramen?"
"No, of course not." Niki answers before turning around to get a plastic cup filled with ice from the freezer only to be followed by you on his way. While you were walking to the freezer a jeonju bibimbap triangle kimbap caught your eye so you decide to take it. Turning around Niki eyes you before taking the plastic cup and his drink of choice, a caramel ice americano.
"Since we're eating together i was wondering maybe we could get some snacks." He suggests on a shy tone wanting to spend more time with you as the last time he wasn't able to. He wanted to get to know you.
Nodding you follow him to the chips isle where you took different kinds, some that you have tried before, some that you haven't. Laughing about your height was also Niki as most of the times you couldn't reach the top shelf. Finally reaching the register with the basket full of things you and Niki both wanted to try, when you wanted to pay he didn't let you, with the excuse that "it's on him."
It's not a date,right? It's a date. Is it?
Was all you could think of when he decided to pay for the food. Sitting down at the table at the convenience store as it started raining only yours and his laughs could be heard. Niki would mostly tease you about your snack choices or even the simple fact of what games you play.
Your prediction from days was true, he was in fact a fashion major. No surprise there. Niki would talk about how much he loves it because he is able to express himself. Later in the evening you found yourselves walking on the way to your apartment as he especially mentioned that "a girl shouldn't go alone so late at night."
Before entering the apartment, without any warning, you come closer to Niki with the original intent of kissing his cheek and saying "thanks a lot for the night." But he had other plans. That's when you could feel his lips on yours. You on your tiptoes having to reach his height as you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer.
"Wow." Taking a deep breath after he pulled away that's all he could say. "I...." Pausing for a second he rubbs the back of his neck while looking at you before continuing. "I guess i'll see you around."
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Days later you get a notification of a post you have been tagged on. Opening your phone, while in the middle of the contract law lecture you're surprised to see a photo of Niki and you, along with two other pictures of him with the outfit he wore that night. You didn't expect that, so it surely surprised you.
It was cute. He was cute.
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| INSTAGRAM POST - NOV 20th.
niki_kikiki
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yourusername <3
01boy broo that's why you missed game night
ppysnoo cuties
user03 and now he has a girlfriend
USERNAMES GUIDE:
1. niki_kikiki = niki
2. wonkiten = jungwon
3. catseong = jay
4. icehoon = sunghoon
5. byfsjy = jake
6. 01boy = heeseung
7. ppysnoo = sunoo
© V3LV3TSIN — do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
#Spotify#enhypen#enha#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen drabbles#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#nishimura riki#nishimura riki x reader#riki nishimura x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen niki#niki nishimura#nishimura riki x you#riki x reader#enhypen riki#kpop smut#enhypen smut
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