#it does not help that the room ive been staying in is like a fucking. insane asylum room

[shigussy]

discovered a food allergy by eating it(again)

[sirompp]

you think your life is hard? well IM an EXTROVERT and i HAVENT SEEN ANY OF MY FRIENDS OR JUST RANDOM OTHER PEOPLE in THREE WEEKS!!!

[writerpeach]

Delectation

IVE An Yujin x Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

-30,699 words

part one | part two

-----

read on AFF

read on AO3

As expected, it takes far too long to get ready for dinner.

By the time Yujin showers, dries her hair, does her makeup, finds the right outfit, and picks out the perfect earrings, it’s already dark when she emerges from the bathroom. On your end, you’ve spent a grand total of under five minutes finding a nice pair of khaki pants, and that one black shirt that Yujin really likes, the same one that’s been sitting in the back of your closet since last spring.

All that time spent was well worth it though, because Yujin looks absolutely breathtaking, and it makes no difference how much time has passed, because you like watching Yujin get dolled up. You can’t help notice the way her eyes flutter while she focuses on her makeup, the way her lips purse up while she finishes her lipstick, and how her nose scrunches up whenever she laughs as she spots your reflection in the mirror, knowing you can’t keep your eyes off her for a second.

“How do I look?” Yujin asks, twirling around to give you the full view of this tight little white dress that she hasn’t had an opportunity to wear, one that’s strapless, cuts off mid-thigh, and gives you all the best places to stare at shamelessly. It’s a feast for your eyes, and Yujin loves the attention you’re giving her, smiling in satisfaction when she turns to face your direction.

You can’t imagine what the goofy grin on your face is like right now, since you’re borderline drooling over how well Yujin fills out that dress, how good she looks in heels that accentuate those incredible long legs, and how devastatingly sexy she looks in that angelic white. There’s not a single part of Yujin that looks out of place, every piece of her outfit chosen to meticulous perfection.

“Like I could skip dinner and eat you instead.”

Yujin blushes. It’s a good thing Wonyoung’s waiting in the kitchen, because for sure she would groan at that. When Yujin closes the distance, she places a small peck on your cheek, wiping her lipstick mark away with her thumb.

“Daddy looks so handsome too…”

Yujin plays with the collar of your shirt before she wraps her hands around the nape of your neck, drawing you into her alluring gaze. There’s this look—this dangerous look, that all of her efforts to look this good might be for naught, because you know she just has to say the word, and that expensive dress will be in a heap on the floor before your next breath.

“Come on, daddy. We don’t want to keep our little princess waiting. You know she’ll be in a bad mood all night.”

Yujin breaks line of sight, grabbing her purse, and leads the way down the stairs, allowing you to appreciate the rear view that her dress provides, that sinful hourglass body with those perfect hips swaying in time with the clack of her heels.

“About time,” Wonyoung says, that familiar petulance creeping up in her voice as she stays leaned over the kitchen island with phone in hand, not even bothering to look up until you two reach the last step of the staircase. “Almost went up there to check on you two. Make sure you hadn’t fucked daddy’s brains out again.”

There's the faintest blush on Yujin's cheeks again as she approaches her younger roommate, pinching her cheeks affectionately as if that'll be enough to disarm her. “I thought about it.”

As Wonyoung shoves her away, Yujin smiles sheepishly, and gets a halfhearted glare aimed her way while losing attention to whatever game is on the screen.

All this time, Wonyoung is too restless to leave, wearing a pink elegant cocktail dress, one that’s a little more modest than Yujin’s but still does her figure justice. She looks like the epitome of prim and proper, a sharp contrast to Yujin, who radiates such overpowering sex appeal; who can get an entire room to look at her the moment she walks through the door.

No doubt they’re a deadly duo, two very different sides of the same coin. Yujin, with her vixenish smile, equipped with these deadly bedroom eyes that keep you on edge for what could happen at any minute. Wonyoung, with her doll-like features and that cute little pout, the one she reserves for when there’s something she wants and won’t back down. When they’re this close together, it’s beauty incarnate, seduction and innocence fused into one alluring package.

Yujin can’t keep her hands off you, ruffling her fingers through your hair while she’s adjusting your shirt, admiring how good you clean up when you want to.

"Are you two done flirting with each other?“ Wonyoung asks, furrowing an eyebrow. “I'm getting hungry.”

"No," Yujin replies without missing a beat, brushing a stray hair off Wonyoung’s forehead. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Wonyoung crosses her arms, and she might explode if she has to wait one more second.

“Whatever, can we just go already? Unless you two need to get a quickie in before we leave,” Wonyoung says in a huff, rolling her eyes and gathering up her jacket. Before either of you say anything else, she loops an arm through yours in a hearty attempt to get this whole train moving, and it’s quite amusing how impatient she can get.

Yujin follows closely behind with this sly grin (one that knows the suggestion isn’t entirely out of the question), until you’ve finally left the apartment and piled into the elevator, descending to the private parking garage.

“Which car are we taking? The Audi? Mercedes?” Wonyoung asks, surveying the sea of expensive cars all lined up in a row next to each other. It’s an absurd question to be honest, like she’s asking what dress she should wear instead of which of these dozen or so cars you should take. But to these two girls, it’s absolutely normal to have this menagerie of luxury at their disposal, each more expensive than the last. You’d be happy to be in a broken down station wagon as long as you’re in their company.

Before you can even say that it really doesn’t matter, Yujin answers the question for you, running a manicured hand along the polished hood of a red Maserati. It’s exquisite, with this rich crimson exterior, chromed out rims, and black leather seats, it’s a head-turner for sure, and so very Yujin.

“This one’s my favorite,” Yujin says, strutting towards the driver’s side door. “Just like daddy...”

The compliment doesn’t seem fair when you’re being compared to this gorgeous beauty of a car, but you’ll take it. Wonyoung seems less enthusiastic at the choice, given that she’ll pick her pink Ferrari on any given day, but shockingly, she’s without complaints.

Yujin slides into the driver’s seat, then Wonyoung claims the passenger side, which leaves you to awkwardly clamber into the small backseat where you can’t avoid hitting your head, getting a double dose of giggles for your troubles. There’s less legroom than you’d like, but the leather seats and sexy interior more than make up for it.

When you’re all buckled up, you can see the uncontained excitement in Yujin as her hands stroke over the steering wheel, and her eyes light up when she fires up the engine, making it purr to life. The weather’s every bit perfect, so she puts the top down after pulling out of the parking space, speeding out of the garage and into the street while the wind blows in your hair.

It’s not a long drive, but traffic makes it longer, and if it were up to Yujin she’d fly past every single stop light without a second thought. The restaurant is in a nicer part of the city, and you’re able to enjoy the serenity of it from the backseat, following the stars while the music’s blaring and the rush of the wind hits your face.

When you arrive, there’s an unnecessarily long line out front. Yujin tells you she’s got that taken care of as she sees the concern on your face, and there’s nothing to worry about when you pull up next to the valet. Wonyoung pre-tips him rather generously, along with a warning not to scratch the paint, which is rather amusing considering it’s not even her car, but she’s pretty protective of anything and everything belonging to her best friend (that includes you).

You can smell steak before you even head inside the double doors, and the way the girls link arms when they head in almost makes you feel like you’ve become the third wheel on a date of theirs. But while they wait for you to catch up, offering reassuring smiles when making room in the middle for you is a gentle reminder that you’re anything but, nor are you a stray that these girls took pity on.

This is meant to be a special occasion, even if you feel out of place among the myriad of well dressed patrons in tailored suits and extravagant dresses who seem to blend right in. As best as you can, you’re not going to let it get to you, because you might not have their wealth or status, but you have something money can’t buy—these two gorgeous women hanging off your arms that enjoy your company.

“Table for three,” Yujin says, feigning embarrassment when the host’s eyes widen at the name of the reservation, since apparently her name has a reputation around these parts. It's mysterious—a part of Yujin you haven't been privy to, or pressed for any details about—partly because it's not your place, partly because there's something sexy about the unknown.

While you’re left thinking about what an enigma Yujin is, you’re ushered into a large corner booth with a perfect view of the skyline, and only then does the realization kick in about how packed the place is as you marvel at the high ceilings, the lavish decor on the walls, the overall elegance at a place you’d never be able to afford to visit on your own.

Everything about the dining room is ornate, the fancy lighting overhead, the lit candles atop each table, all of it confirming that these girls want nothing but to spoil you rotten. You’re overwhelmed by the menu, even before noticing the prices, and you're nothing but thankful you won't have to empty your bank account tonight.

The waitress comes to introduce herself and gather drink orders; Wonyoung orders red wine, Yujin orders a stiff martini, and you opt for a more boring route—plain old ice water.

You can sense the combined disappointment on their faces before you even finish, but someone has to be responsible, and make sure everyone makes it home in one piece. And hey, it’s a good excuse to be able to drive Yujin’s luxurious car back to the apartment. It’s not like they’ve planned on getting completely hammered, but at least loosen up a little bit, since nights like this are bound to be unpredictable.

“Well,” Wonyoung starts, nursing her glass of wine before taking a delicate sip, licking the remnants of the alcohol off those glossy lips. “What sounds good?”

“Steak,” Yujin replies with a giggle, stating the hyper obvious while she takes the opposite approach, downing her drink like it’s water, and she’s liable to finish it before even getting to order. The menu’s got so many options, from a dozen different cuts of steak, to lobster, to types of fish you didn’t even know existed (you swear some of these have to be made up).

When the waitress comes around to take your orders, you all end up settling on pretty much the same thing, but funny enough, Wonyoung orders the biggest cut of steak out of the three of you. How she stays so trim and fit remains one of life’s greatest mysteries.

“So, daddy,” Yujin pauses, and already she’s on her second martini, which is a dangerous thought on its own, as dangerous as her using that word in public, especially when you’ve got nothing but water to defend against that smirk of hers. There’s one from Wonyoung as well, all equal parts of mischievous, like they’ve been silently scheming something since sitting down, waiting until the right moment to enact the next phase of their devious plan. “What do you think—“

Her words trail off on purpose, not even trying to be subtle as Yujin traces the rim of her martini glass with one finger, those little rotations slow and steady to keep your attention glued to her before she dips her middle finger inside, sucking the alcohol clean off.

It’s impressive, how on every little occasion Yujin manages to turn the simplest thing into some erotic act: like when she takes the olive from her toothpick and runs it along those soft, sultry lips, pops it into her mouth, then takes her time to chew before she tilts her head back and swallows it down.

It’s all your fault, you suppose, for thinking this was just an ordinary dinner without any ulterior motive. And yet, you know this is just the preamble for what’s going to unfold later tonight as you think about all the ways Yujin can get in your head. Your shared roommate Wonyoung makes a good accomplice, because she can mask her intentions with that coy little smile that makes her look oh so innocent, when you know she’s anything but.

A loud slurp of her drink, and Yujin scoots closer towards you, until she’s pressing her thigh against your leg. Wonyoung follows suit, the three of you in a tight huddle, sandwiched together, and there it is—the first of many shared glances to keep you guessing what their intentions are, and they could just about be anything.

“You know, it’s going to take a while to cook our steaks. That gives us plenty of time to kill, doesn't it, daddy?” You’re not even looking at Yujin when she’s speaking, because maybe if you don’t acknowledge her, maybe that thought won’t finish—

“What do you say we head to the bathroom, you can hike this dress up and…”

A fruitless endeavor.

Yujin reaches over to grab your wrist, dragging it up her exposed thigh, inching it higher. She’s about to guide it between those devilish legs, but finds herself interrupted when the waitress comes to check on the table just in time.

“Yujin, we came here to eat,” you growl, pulling away as the waitress heads back to the kitchen with promises that your meal should be out momentarily, but that can’t ever be soon enough.

It’s so easy for Yujin to get so carried away, and despite the fact that you’re in public only encourages her to take things to the extreme. “Well, there’s not any food here yet. So I thought maybe if you wanted a little appetizer…”

Again, what an absurd thought that this would be just a normal outing. You’re really regretting being stuck with water, half-tempted to make a beeline over to the bar and start chugging shots. Even one small sip of alcohol would help deal with Yujin’s advances.

But it’s not like you don’t want what she’s offering, that you wouldn’t want to devour her before the food gets here. You couldn’t even make it to the bathroom, just drop to your knees and eat her out right at this booth, risk it all to get your mouth between those mouthwatering legs.

Between these two with devilish intentions, you have to be the reasonable one here. No matter how ravishing Yujin looks in that sexy little dress, you’ll have to keep your thoughts in check, and certainly, you have to keep her greedy hands away from your crotch. There’s a time and place for this, and it’s not in front of all of these people, when you don’t need any extra attention.

Wonyoung keeps playing her part, which is to say, offering no assistance, just idling on the sideline, swirling around the red liquid in her glass as she smiles wickedly at your discomfort, which you know she can pile on.

Worst of all, there aren’t even any appetizers to distract you from all this, as you’ve agreed on skipping them in lieu of not getting full before the main course. It’s not helping the way Yujin leans against your shoulder, tracing patterns along the inside of your thigh with her fingers, unwavering with all this teasing. Right now, your biggest problem is trying to not catch an erection in public, but despite your best efforts, Yujin just might brute force it regardless.

Much to the dismay of the pretty girls on either side of you, the steaks arrive just in time, and you’re endlessly grateful for this succulent meat savior from making the situation any more arduous. That first bite is nothing short of orgasmic, melting in your mouth, and it’s the distraction you desperately need from any further Yujin shenanigans. You think it doesn’t get better than this—the best steak you’ve had in your life, enveloped by two beautiful girls, in this pleasant atmosphere. There’s nothing more to ask for.

“How’s yours, daddy?” Yujin asks, offering you a bite of her own steak as she brings the juicy meat close to your mouth. It’s not that different from yours, but you swear, the way the flavor lingers on your tastebuds, that it somehow tastes even better when you’re eating it off her fork.

“Really good,” you say, which is really underselling just how damn delicious it is, but you don’t want to waste time with words when you can focus on eating. Wonyoung just sits and watches the two of you swap bites off of each other's plate, almost in her own world while she cuts into her steak with all the grace of royalty.

It’s these little differences between the two that’s humorous; Wonyoung seems to exist on a different planet than anyone else, taking these small, delicate bites, elegantly bringing her fork to her lips, while Yujin resorts to eating in large, hungry bites, practically stabbing her meat. The destination is the same, just with different modes of travel.

Ultimately, you’re just happy to spend time with the inseparable pair, appreciating a quality meal, and savoring the quiet moments, the calm before the proverbial storm. There’s never any final satisfaction with these two, as evidenced by the massive slice of cheesecake that’s been shared between three forks, one last moment of pure indulgence before heading home.

Yujin downs the remainder of her third martini after grabbing her black card from the waitress, and she leaves behind a more than generous tip that could clear the average person’s rent. Exiting the booth, it turns out Yujin isn’t too far gone despite having her fair share to drink, but it always makes her a little (more) clingy, wrapping both hands around your bicep in an almost protective manner. Similarly, Wonyoung skips to the side, singing this inaudible song while the three of you make your way to the valet without any care in the world.

By the time the Maserati gets brought around, it looks brand new, like it’s been given the works before being returned. The keys get returned to Yujin, who then hands them over to you without hesitation, and she tips again generously, as if showing off how much money she carries around.

You’re not going to take this responsibility lightly when you’ve been given the reins to command such a powerful beast. Sliding into the driver’s seat, it feels like you’re sitting on a golden throne, and you need a moment to take it all in, need a moment to appreciate the extravagance you’re surrounded in.

“You look like you’re about to lose your virginity,” Wonyoung teases, her petite figure climbing into the backseat with finesse, unlike yourself, who flopped in with all the grace of a raging bull.

It’s a fair comparison, because this car is sex on wheels. And then Yujin takes her place beside you, strapping in, the most dangerous passenger you could have.

“You’ll get us home safe, right, daddy?” Yujin asks, leaning over to kiss your check with a hint of alcohol on her breath, but this time marks your cheek with her red lipstick.

The answer is an obvious yes, but when the car roars to life with this low growl that comes with the simple push of a button, you have this overwhelming desire to ignore every last traffic law and stop sign in existence.

Once you've hit one of the main streets after leaving the restaurant, Yujin’s lips get close enough to brush against your earlobe, and she speaks in this low, sultry whisper that drips nothing but lust. “I’m going to love watching you ruin our little princess, daddy. I can’t wait to see how your cum looks dripping out of her holes.”

Those two little sentences nearly take your entire concentration away, but you’ve been stuck at a red light for far too long, so you get a reprieve to let your brain recover from turning to mush. Wonyoung’s rather quiet, which is suspicious in its own way, and she’s not saying much while staying in the background, or perhaps lost in the music, but you can’t help how it has you on edge more than it should.

There’s not much said during the last long stretch of open highway, which lets you experience the car’s full potential, and has you forgetting what speed limits are.

When the apartment comes back in view, it’s an almost regrettable sight. You could miss the turn, put this fearsome thing through its paces, but you do have an obligation to be responsible. There’s something much more exciting waiting up ahead anyway.

Your fingers glide over the garage keypad, and you’re welcomed home. But there’s this lingering sense of trepidation, because once the three of you walk through that door—you can only imagine what’s going to happen.

The top of the Maserati slides back in place, and you shut the engine off, handing Yujin the keys while you head to the opposite side, opening the door for her.

“Such a gentleman,” Yujin says as she takes your hand for assistance while stepping out, and she’s not nearly as drunk as you’ve been led to believe, especially walking in those heels. It’s more of this perfect buzz going on.

Wonyoung, however—is a different story. She makes a cute stumble upon exiting the car, nearly losing her balance, but you’re right there to catch her. “My hero.”

It’s more sarcastic than sincere, something you’ve grown accustomed to. But even under the influence of alcohol, Wonyoung remains more unreadable than ever, and she’s not ashamed to lean against the nearby cars for support until she’s regained her footing,

While you’re both trying not to laugh, Yujin slips her fingers between yours, guiding you towards the elevator with a lot more grace and dignity than the younger of the two for once. Following close behind, Wonyoung saunters into this small elevator with you and Yujin that seems like it takes forever to get to your apartment floor, letting the silence simmer. It’s unnatural for there to be this much quiet with these two, when they’ll make a comment about every little thing no matter how irrelevant, or mundane. The hum of the elevator ascending is the only noise that breaks the uncomfortable silence, but it’s anything but peace and quiet, and adds to the uncertainty. With every floor that passes, Yujin keeps her fingers interlocked with yours, her body close, and that demure smile lingering on her face. On the opposite end, there’s Wonyoung, who just stares blankly ahead, arms spread out while holding on to the guard rail, not a thought in that empty head.

As soon as the elevator dings, the doors swinging open spikes your nerves, but you can’t act on it when Yujin drags you along by the wrist, and you follow without question like a helpless puppy until faced with the front door of your apartment.

Yujin fumbles through her bag to find the keys, handicapped by alcohol for a moment. Wonyoung appears behind and watches her blind attempts to unlock the apartment, unable to put the key into the slot with one hand still locked in yours. All out of patience she intervenes, taking the keys from Yujin and opens the apartment door, demanding praise like she’s just won a gold medal.

“Brat. I almost had it,” Yujin says, more playful than venomous, as she’s got a little too much alcohol in her to be actually upset. You lock the door behind and turn on the entryway light as Yujin shuffles about, sitting her purse on a counter and kicking off her heels, abandoning them wherever they land. Her bare feet can breathe as she walks across the hardwood floor. Wonyoung, however has a little trouble slipping her heels off. She stumbles once again, much to Yujin’s delight, who can’t help but let out an obnoxious laugh.

You see, unlike Yujin, Wonyoung is prone to overdoing it, and she’s not the best at holding her alcohol. So after a few drinks, anything (or in this case two full glasses of wine) is more than enough to get her tipsy, get those carefully chosen words slurring.

“Should I carry you?” you tease, which garners no reaction other than Wonyoung’s ire, who balls up her fists at her sides, carefully stepping over her stilettos to not trip over them a second time.

“I’m not that drunk,” Wonyoung insists, but her body betrays her words when she can barely make it past the couch, and requires both you and Yujin to try wrangling her there. Even then, the poor girl still manages to fall over, taking you down to the cushions with her in this tumble that’s anything but elegant.

“Okay, maybe I am a little…”

Yujin covers her mouth, just in absolute stitches at the display, and no one laughs quite like her at someone else's expense. Poor, poor Wonyoung looks so embarrassed when you manhandle her enough to sit properly, keeping her on your lap as you hold her tiny waist to pull her together.

As you lean against the back couch cushions, there’s a flushed glow on Wonyoung’s face, both from the humiliation and the alcohol still doing its job, and it makes her look so extra adorable when she tries to hide her intoxication, a near impossible task at this point.

“Daddy,” Wonyoung says, trying not to slur her syllables as Yujin settles down on the cushions to your left, rearranging the pillows underneath her back as she plops down. “Daddy, daddy—“

“What is it, princess?"

There's an unmistakable twinkle in Wonyoung's eyes when she taps your shoulders with both palms, leaning in expectedly with her lips all puckered up. "Kiss me. I want a kiss, daddy."

Wonyoung looks like she’ll pout forever if you don’t oblige her request, and it’s such a polite demand, exempt from the usual brattiness that there isn’t a reason to say no. She isn’t left waiting. You seize her cute cheeks, kissing those full, plump lips as they part in an instant, letting you claim that pretty little mouth that still lingers with alcohol left behind. The girl practically melts at your touch, losing whatever sense of stability she has left when her fingers weave into your hair, and you can taste the sweetness on her tongue that feels like you’ll get drunk just from tasting her.

When the kiss gets broken, you see the hunger in those eyes—they want more, not just from you, but from the woman perched on the sidelines, silently watching you make out with Wonyoung, enjoying how this all slowly unravels.

And then Wonyoung gets greedy, because this kiss is far from over when she grabs your shirt, pulling you back in for more, tongues colliding as you let her take the lead, let her take whatever she wants. It’s not often she gets to take command like this (at least not without some barrage of whines), but it’s far too easy to get lost in those intoxicating lips, so you don’t dare disrupt her needs and let her determine when this kiss ends.

Yujin stays glued to the action, as she has a front row seat to watch this frantic liplock, and can’t say she’s not even a little bit jealous of how Wonyoung gets her tongue in your mouth. Inching closer, Yujin gets close enough to join if need be. And as Wonyoung lets you come up for air, all the attention gets turned towards her counterpart who has no intention of being left out.

“Now you,” Wonyoung says, this cute command while leaning out your lap to meet Yujin with a messy, drunken kiss, even more unrestrained, even more insatiable. You’re left as a lowly spectator now, but there’s little to complain about when you have these two incredibly gorgeous, equally intoxicated women kissing each other so lasciviously.

Naturally, Yujin takes over, despite the fact she didn’t initiate, and she’s just devouring this girl, plunging her tongue into Wonyoung’s needy mouth, pressing her lips deeper as Wonyoung nearly comes off your lap. There’s such an eagerness in the way their lips crash together, absolutely starved for one another, as Wonyoung succumbs to how Yujin’s mouth dominates her own, almost helpless in this state, letting her do whatever she pleases.

Your eyes don’t miss a moment, and how could they? You have these two just going at it, lips colliding into these hot, heavy kisses, acting like both have something to prove while you’re watching their sloppy makeout session. Yujin is anything but gentle while roaming Wonyoung’s tight little body, searching for any area of skin that hasn't been claimed, digging fingertips into bare flesh, doing what she can to get her more flustered.

And Wonyoung just loves this, she loves letting go of control, becoming this object to be fondled, this little plaything to be dominated. The more Yujin keeps her mouth on her, the more she lets out these heated moans, drowning in rich desire with no chance to hide her level of arousal.

“This—this is in the way,“ Yujin says, tugging at the hem of that cocktail dress, and she wants it out of the picture equally as much as you do. Wonyoung can’t agree more, and leans in close to plant her lips back on Yujin for one more sinful kiss while she unzips the back of her dress.

“Then why don’t you take it off me?”

Without any question, Yujin does just that, peeling Wonyoung off of your lap for a second so she can have unfettered access to her. There’s no time being squandered when Yujin finishes unzipping the back, and then she’s drifting two fingers down the spine of Wonyoung’s bare back, causing a light gasp that can’t be contained.

And when those straps fall down, Wonyoung gives this sly little grin, because she loves how you’re watching her get slowly undressed.

That gorgeous cocktail dress is the first casualty of the evening as Yujin gives it one little tug, and gravity does the rest, freeing Wonyoung of that expendable piece of fabric. The only thing left covering her slender frame is a skimpy matching set of white bra and panties that barely conceals that perfect, pale skin, all those exquisite curves, and that tight stomach that’s just begging to be licked.

“Look how pretty she looks, daddy,” Yujin says, and she runs her hands all over the curves of Wonyoung’s body, groping whatever creamy flesh is in reach, sinking her fingertips into those toned, worshipable abs.

“She’s fucking stunning,” you respond, and Wonyoung blushes at the praise, loving how two sets of eyes are focused on her that look over every little inch of her, every little detail on such a beautiful canvas that makes up her body. You don’t get enough occasions like this, where she gets to show off her figure, and Wonyoung is eating all this attention up,

“Can I take this off, princess?” Yujin asks, fingers playing with the clasp of her lace bra, and Wonyoung just nods in a way that’s pleading, like she wants to beg to be stripped but can’t quite get the words out. But of course, Yujin drags it out when she lowers those straps down slowly, painfully slow, one at a time, leaving a trail of kisses on her bare shoulders as she unfastens that bra and tosses it out of sight, unveiling that petite chest.

Wonyoung has such cute, perky breasts, with these pretty pink little nipples that Yujin can’t resist teasing with the pads of her fingers, and she knows how to get her all worked up. The lightest touch makes her nipples start to stiffen, using as little pressure as possible to circle them, not even enough to get any bliss to register.

Yet Wonyoung is losing it, leaning back as Yujin cups her bare breasts, toying with her body, testing to see what gets the most visceral reactions. For you, it’s hard not to pitch a tent in your slacks, growing so painfully erect the more Yujin toys with Wonyoung. These addictive little moans spill out as her nipples get pinched, played with, rolled between fingertips, and it’s no secret how sensitive that cute little chest can get. Yujin’s going to take full advantage of that.

Yujin continues to lavish Wonyoung with attention, taking the time to grope her body, to play with those pretty nipples. before her hands travel south. She slides down that toned abdomen, while placing these sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along Wonyoung’s neck, and then she presses two fingers against her clothed core—

“Please…” Wonyoung gasps, but Yujin is quick to ignore her whines, grabbing her hips, and slipping a finger between the waistband of her thong, the strap so thin you could snap it off by looking at it.

“Care to do the honors, daddy?” Yujin asks, looking at you with expectant eyes, almost ready to tear her panties to shreds if you take too long to answer. Even then, you let the question linger, while Wonyoung is basking in the attention, waiting with bated breath to get this last piece of clothing off her.

“Of course,” you say, not that there’s any other possible response when presented with a question like that. It's impossible for Wonyoung not to blush with how exposed she is in this moment, and that red hue on her cheeks deepens when you caress her creamy thighs, so silky smooth beneath your fingertips.

Before you drag those little panties down, you can’t help notice the small wet patch that stains the lacy fabric a shade darker, evidence of her arousal seeping through. And then it slips so easily off her hips, down to her ankles, exposing her pretty bare pussy, that perfect pink flesh all slick and glistening just for you.

“Come closer, princess.”

She can't obey your command fast enough, closing the gap until her thighs part on either side, giving you easy access to that beautiful bare cunt that’s begging to be touched, devoured, filled to the brim.

While you figure out what to do with her, Wonyoung stands on display as if she’s an exhibit of the perfect woman, naked, beautiful, and flawless from head to toe. You don’t make her wait for more attention, and give her tight stomach a trail of appreciative kisses, feeling the muscles flex underneath—and then you slip a finger inside that slick warmth, just burying yourself to the hilt in one go.

“D-daddy, fuck,” Wonyoung moans, as she tries her hardest to hold still while you slide a finger in and out of her pussy with these languish strokes, coating it in enough of her juices for you to lick clean.

“What should we do with you?”

In no time at all, Wonyoung becomes this needy thing, whimpering at just about anything as you pump a second finger inside, curling your digits to coax these pathetic little whines out.

“I’m not so sure she’s ready for that dick yet,” Yujin says, as she’s watching your fingers disappear inside Wonyoung, plunging them into her sweet depths, bringing them out dripping in her nectar.

"What do you think, princess? Does that pretty little pussy deserve this cock?" you ask, and Wonyoung moans in response when you keep hitting her sweet spot. It sends all kinds of satisfying shivers through her body—ones that make her squirm, because whether or not she’ll admit it, she enjoys being worked up like this, getting denied any real pleasure.

“Answer,” Yujin demands, and this time when you slip your fingers from that pretty cunt, you’re just stroking her wet folds, making Wonyoung stay empty with your refusal to get back in her until she gives a proper response.

“I want your cock, daddy," Wonyoung finally blurts out with shaky words. "Need it. Need your cock in me."

“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Yujin says, tilting Wonyoung’s chin up to look her directly in the eyes. “Do you want daddy’s cock or not?”

There’s a defeated look in Wonyoung’s eyes, like she can’t believe she actually has to work for something, annoyed that she has to present a valid argument when her cunt aches desperately to be filled with something more than just your greedy fingers.

“Y-yes, I want daddy’s big cock. Please, I need it—please let me have it. Fuck me, use me, use my tight pussy. Doesn’t daddy wanna breed me?”

It’s playing dirty when Wonyoung dares to use that word, and she’s every bit shameless for doing so. You’re refusing to respond to that, and dip your fingers back in instead, cleaning them off with a messy slurp. You repeat this like clockwork, and get your fingers dripping with the honey between Wonyoung’s thighs, but it’s impossible to get enough of this taste.

When you look at Yujin, she’s got this look on her face like she’s not convinced—and to be perfectly honest, you aren’t either.

“Then prove it, princess,” Yujin says, leaning back on the couch cushions with her arms folded, tucking her legs underneath as she stares Wonyoung down. “Get on your knees like a good little slut. Show us what that pretty mouth can do.”

Without even taking a breath, Wonyoung gives a little nod as she follows orders, lowering to her knees. There’s all this eagerness in her eyes when she’s undoing your pants, fumbling with the zipper for a moment until she yanks your slacks down to your ankles.

“Good girl. Daddy has too many clothes on.” Yujin refuses to settle with the amount of clothing you have left on, and she does her part in undressing you. One by one, she loosens every button, kissing the parts of your chest that she exposes, lips following each undone button until your torso is bare and your shirt gets tossed away.

It’s so sudden, even a little surreal to have your two pretty roommates undress you. Yujin leans back in to kiss you. Her lips take a path somewhere in between this soft, tender embrace, and being downright animalistic, just shoving her tongue in your mouth without restraint. Meanwhile, Wonyoung isn't going to wait around, getting your boxers off your hips.

Yujin's no slouch either, vying for your attention by tracing a path along your chest, and she wanders one finger wherever it pleases. And then Wonyoung plants her plump lips on the underside of your shaft, hitting that sensitive spot that she knows so well now over and over, watching it throb each time her kisses linger.

“Hey…” Wonyoung whines, looking at Yujin as she explores your length, your shaft unable to escape those gloss-covered lips while they move down to your base, soft pecks all the way until she starts from the top once more. “You’re the only one still wearing clothes.”

For once, she has a point, and it’s not like Yujin can argue against the fact that her gorgeous white dress is the only thing not part of this ever-growing pile of clothes. You’re naked, Wonyoung is naked, so why shouldn’t she join the fun?

"Don't worry, princess. We can fix that real easy," Yujin responds. She’s been caught red-handed, and doesn’t hesitate to stand up so she can disrobe. It’s a striptease without the tease, as she slides the dress down her shoulders, only giving a you glance of the color of her bra for a moment—it’s black, sexy as can be, and gone before you know it, that small thong that you only get to see from the front following suit.

The room fills with stunned silence when Yujin gets equally nude as the two of you, just flaunting off that deadly figure that manifests how fit and toned she is, these never ending curves that give her such an unfair advantage.

“There, is that better?” Yujin asks with a giggle, and seeing her looking like that, just shamelessly naked as could be on the couch, is more than enough to steal all your entire attention away. Wandering that tight body with your eyes is the only response Yujin desires, because now your focus is torn, and it’s hard to do anything but just look like an idiot and stare.

Obviously, Wonyoung isn’t going to take that lightly. Not when she’s got your hard cock in her hand, giving these purposeful little strokes while leaving wet, hungry kisses on your swollen tip, displaying her adoration in the best way she can. Wonyoung needs your undivided attention more than ever, even if she has to fight for it. She does so well at it: she’s pressing these soft lips into every sensitive spot on your cock, licking where she’s left kisses, all that precum oozing out getting cleaned by her warm tongue.

Your eyes don’t know where to look, whether to stay focused on the vast nakedness of Yujin, or Wonyoung worshiping your cock, as she continues to tease, kissing up and down your length with those sultry lips that get so incredibly eager to please. Wonyoung tries to tear away your focus by slowly swirling her tongue around your tip, brushing across your slit that keeps releasing a steady stream of precum, making this sticky mess that she loves cleaning up, and then—

Those sexy lips part, and Wonyoung abruptly takes your cock inside her wet mouth. You groan, and your attention is all hers now, on how warm her pretty mouth feels, how soft those impatient lips are. This isn’t teasing, no, she’s getting straight to the point when she seals those lips around your shaft, sucking you off in this magical way that gets your cock nice and wet in an instant.

The girl just has a talent for this, she’s so goddamn ravenous, head bobbing up and down with all this fervor. The loud slurps she makes are so deliberate, and Wonyoung’s trying to draw the attention of the entire room.

“That looks like it feels good, daddy,” Yujin says, and of course it does, because a blowjob from Wonyoung is unlike anything else, the way those soft lips just take and take and take, without any remorse, swallowing you into her mouth, greedy for more.

“Y-yeah, it does. She’s good at this. You like sucking this cock, don’t you, princess?”

Wonyoung is a bit preoccupied to answer, but she makes your shaft disappear down her throat, taking you all the way down to the base as a response, and tries to hold you there for as long as she can—which admittedly isn’t that long, but you’ll give her points for trying. She makes another attempt, one that’s a bit more successful, but Wonyoung just doesn’t have the control over her gag reflex like Yujin does, even though she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm.

“Princess,” Yujin says, toeing the line on being condescending when she admonishes Wonyoung. “You’re being too hasty. Slow down, try to relax your throat.”

“I don’t need your help. I know how to deepthroat.”

“Is that why you’re gagging so much?”

“I’m gagging because daddy likes when I do that.”

“No, he likes it when he makes you gag. Right now, you’re sucking his dick like a virgin who’s never had anything down their throat. And you’re not even being that messy.”

“I’m just—taking my time. It’s called build up, but you wouldn’t know that since you just slobber on daddy’s dick the moment you get it in your mouth.”

You know what Yujin is doing, and it’s working so well. It’s doing wonders to light a fire under Wonyoung, because she works best when she gets all competitive, needs to prove her worth. Stubborn till the end, she tries it her way one more time, and when Wonyoung can’t go more than a few seconds without gagging, she pulls away, takes a long, deep breath, and then tries what Yujin suggests. Her lips make slow movements, settling in at one inch at a time, until she pushes deeper, little by little, making your girth gradually disappear between her lips.

“Breathe through your nose, princess. Take your time, and when you’re ready, all the way down your throat…”

You know there’s this huge part of Wonyoung that hates this, hates being instructed how to do something she’s perceived to be good at. But there’s no harm in learning, even as stubborn as she can be. So she comes up for air once, then goes back in, relaxing what she can, slowing her movements down, easing into it. The noises from her throat keep to a minimum, only slightly gagging on your length—

(A lot, actually, but it's okay, she’s still learning, even though she still wants to do things her way.)

There’s nothing but deep concentration in those eyes when her lips pull back, then goes back in for another run. She listens, takes it slow, and doesn’t rush things. Then her lips go down, far down, swallowing down your length, until without much effort she takes you all in, your entire shaft engulfed by those gorgeous lips.

Wonyoung stays like this—keeping her mouth still with those eyes looking right at you, like she’s desperate for your approval. Not a single sound leaves her throat, and there’s no urge to pull away. And then she does it all over again, without Yujin needing to utter a word, just taking these deep, deep plunges that keep you as far down in her throat as can be.

“See? There you go, princess. That’s our good girl,” Yujin says, with this satisfied smirk on her face, this look that’s proud as could be.

All that praise really gets Wonyoung going, as she’s got this new level of confidence, and she’s sucking your cock from base to tip without difficulty, like she never ever struggled with it before. And it just feels—so—good, the heat from her throat, the sensations from her lips as they slide across your entire cock, the way her tongue dances on the underside as that mouth presses into your balls when she swallows you whole.

There's no restraint when that wonderful mouth slides down to the hilt, holding it there to keep her throat all nice and full, taking such deep strokes that have you reeling. Your moans only feed her confidence, and now she’s just aching to prove herself, wants to keep all that praise coming, and there’s this nice sheen your cock gets covered in when Wonyoung pulls back up.

Yujin remains at your side the entire time, watching Wonyoung devote her mouth to your cock, and she’s getting so sloppy putting these new lessons to good use, drool spilling out the corners of her lips. “She’s good at this. If we’re not careful she’ll suck you dry.”

And she says that like it’s a problem. Maybe it is for Yujin, who wants to claim your first load, but given how fucking good Wonyoung is sucking your dick, there's no harm in giving her first dibs.

In the midst of this wet, messy blowjob, Yujin curls her toes against the outer side of your thigh, showing her intention to not stay idle for much longer. You accept that invitation for a distraction, grabbing one of her ankles, and start to plant little kisses on the ball of her foot, moving your lips to her pretty painted toes. A look of satisfaction washes over Yujin's face as she tilts her head back, because she doesn’t like to be neglected for too long.

It’s the best distraction you can have while Wonyoung just devours your cock, going all in from base to tip while your tongue slides against the curve of Yujin’s perfect feet, tracing the contours and peppering the soft skin in kisses. Once you’ve introduced your lips to every part, you get your lips wrapped around her big toe and suck, unable to hold back the loud, messy slurps you make while you slather it with saliva, as you proceed to suck the rest of her white-pedicured toes, one by one.

Yujin just basks in the warm bliss that spreads across her body, and closes her eyes, because she loves getting her toes sucked as much as you love getting them in your mouth. Leaning back, comfortable as ever, Yujin is losing herself in the moment as you’re worshiping her feet that deserve it, and it’s not lost on you that you must look as needy as Wonyoung does drooling between your legs. You don’t care, because having Yujin’s pretty little toes in your mouth while you’re getting the best head of your life, well, nothing could be better, you think.

You could just spend time doing this forever, kissing and licking your way through Yujin’s goddess feet, each pass of your tongue enough to make you salivate over these flawless arches, silky soles, and gorgeous painted toes. You have no restraint at a time like this, licking her feet with so much hunger, then the space between her toes, giving them another tongue bath, so you can taste every delicious inch that you can reach. Yujin runs the ball of her foot along your cheek, giggles when you eagerly drag your tongue between her toes, when you give those soft soles all sorts of messy kisses, and she’s almost enjoying your worship more than you, quiet little moans slipping out.

“Daddy—don’t you think it’s time I got a turn?” Yujin asks when she presses her foot against your face, then slides down to your lips so she can see how many toes you can take in your mouth.

You’re completely enamored in the taste of her feet, indulging in every mouthwatering inch, tongue desperately running along her arches, that you don’t even have a proper answer. Which works out, because Yujin doesn’t need one as she rests her saliva-covered feet in your lap, then uses them to push Wonyoung away, an emphatic, frustrated huff lets out as her work is interrupted.

“Hey!“ Wonyoung protests, with this indignant look on her face, the one you’ve all seen before, because she’s just had her favorite toy taken away. “I wasn’t done—give it back.”

Yujin keeps the younger girl from getting her mouth back on your cock, toying with her, which for a moment is of the utmost disappointment—until she uses those delicate feet to wrap around your length, leisurely jerking off your shaft with them. And fuck, it feels so goddamn good to have Yujin use her feet this way, rubbing her soles alongside your length, teasing your tip with her toes, all while this little greedy grin stays on her face.

“It’s only not polite to not share, princess,” Yujin says, and while it might not be the same as having those pouty lips drooling on your shaft, the way she just runs her toes over either side of your hard cock feels nothing short of orgasmic. Her smooth silky soles just squeeze with the most perfect amount of pressure, dragging all this pleasure out as she keeps your shaft between her delicate arches, pumping with all this delicious friction that makes you melt into the couch.

“How’s that, daddy? You like that?” You can only groan when Yujin asks, and she’ll take that as your answer, rolling her toes over your leaking cock. There's not a doubt in your mind she’s capable of making you cum just like this, that bravado plastered all over her face.

It’s not fair that Yujin’s an expert at every little thing she does, all so natural to her without any effort. There’s a cocky smile on her face that grows, knowing how much you’re enjoying the pleasure her feet give, and she loves the sounds you make while keeping this up. But of course, Wonyoung isn’t going to stay there and let Yujin have all the fun. That envy in her eyes reaches a breaking point.

Once Wonyoung rises, she takes a spot on your right side, returning the favor and pushes Yujin away, snatching up your cock. This greedy desire to one-up the older girl takes over, but Yujin isn’t sweating, because she wants to see where this is going.

“I can do this too,” Wonyoung says as her equally soft feet take over, mimicking Yujin, but it’s not quite the same—because she’s never done anything like this. It’s awkward at best, and your cock keeps slipping out of Wonyoung’s feet. As skilled as this girl is at oral, she simply can’t manage the proper position to do what Yujin has down to perfection.

“Are you sure?” Yujin says, and that teasing, it’s motivation for sure, but the more overzealous Wonyoung is, the more frustrated she gets.

Yujin watches with such amusement, unable to keep her laughter contained. The pout on Wonyoung’s lips just accentuates her frustration, clearly dismayed that she can’t figure this out. Wonyoung keeps failing at giving anything that resembles a proper footjob, and can’t seem to keep her feet on your cock long enough to give pleasure. And while Wonyoung isn’t the type to concede easily, she’d rather be back on her knees, lips sealed tight, drooling everywhere, and abandons the idea with this helpless little whine.

Without Yujin saying anything, her feet are right back on your cock, showing how it’s done. Using her toes, she gets this perfect grip on your shaft, then slips it between those velvety soles, pumping away, rubbing where it’ll make you moan the most, and doesn’t neglect your balls, applying careful pressure on them as well.

“God—that feels so good, so amazing, Yujin,” you groan, and you’re just throbbing with all this friction on your cock, all this softness surrounding you.

Through this all, Wonyoung has an annoyed look on her face (as per usual), unable to not let the jealousy shine through while she’s taking a backseat to Yujin expertly stroking your cock, working absolute magic on your cock with her toes, soles, and every other part of her perfect feet.

Maybe it’s pity, or how cute the pout on her face gets, but you can’t let Wonyoung get too starved for attention, because she did try her best. And she deserves some reward for that. So you’re not going to allow that leftover frustration to linger on her adorable face, and give her the same treatment as Yujin, pressing your lips into Wonyoung’s lovely feet, then slowly dragging your tongue along those soles, which are every bit as soft. There’s a ticklish sensation that soon dissipates, and then Wonyoung settles into every chaste kiss given to her milky feet, every long swipe of your tongue, until you slip those cute toes inside your mouth.

Her mood changes in a flash, and there's no frustration left, as Wonyoung can’t hide the enjoyment of you worshiping her feet this much, nor can she hide voicing the pleasure that you’re giving.

“Daddy’s good at that, isn’t he, princess?” Yujin asks, doing her share to pleasure your cock while your mouth doesn’t rest, licking the smooth soles of Wonyoung’s feet sensitive enough to draw all these sounds that are nothing but adorable. Because these two women, no, these two goddesses, it’s what they deserve, this total devotion to them.

“Y-yeah, he is,” Wonyoung murmurs, trying to remain composed while you suck on her delicate little toes, leaving sloppy, wet kisses in between—it’s more for your own needs of distraction from the way Yujin’s working your cock with her talented feet. Either way, you’re enjoying it regardless, kissing and licking all along the porcelain skin of Wonyoung’s princess feet.

It’s nothing but pure, concentrated bliss, all the while Yujin takes your cockhead between her toes, squeezing the most sensitive part, rubbing that underside—then she pulls away, kneels into the cushions to lean forward, and licks the length of your cock before she takes it into her mouth.

All this abrupt pleasure hits at once when Yujin consumes your cock whole, mouth descending straight to your base without a modicum of struggle. The heat from her mouth is overwhelming, and her lips wrap perfectly around your shaft, head bobbing at such an accelerated pace that has you moaning without any control left. As usual, her gaze is laced with lust, making all these filthy slurps when she fills her throat with cock, pulling back only to coat it with more spit. Then, she slowly eases her lips off your head until she goes back in, every last inch gobbled up, like she’s on a mission to prove her superiority in sucking cock.

"Oh my god, Yujin," you moan in ecstasy, because this girl is just a pro at taking it all down her throat with sheer hunger. She’s deepthroating you like a champ, bobbing her head in a blur, these sloppy passes that drip saliva down to your balls, and Wonyoung just looks on with her ego deflated, her pride shattered.

“You can help out, you know,” Yujin suggests, messy drool dripping down her chin as she keeps her lips tight around your cock, with her hands cradling your balls. Wonyoung hesitates for a moment, because she would much rather be the star of the show than share the spotlight, but eventually joins in, licking away at your sack while Yujin has your entire length in her mouth.

When the pair work together, the room gets filled with the sounds of sloppy slurps and hungry licks, two wonderful pairs of lips and tongues that no longer compete, but cooperate. Wonyoung gets her lips right on your balls, sucking them with so much vigor as she takes them one at a time, giving each individual attention until they’re covered in as much spit as your cock. Yujin keeps bobbing away, lips sliding from base to tip, then the reverse, these long strokes that have you groaning her name as you run fingers between her hair, the only thing you can do to find an anchor for this intense double blowjob that you never want to end.

“Fuck, there, like that, f-fuck—”

You can’t even say much more. Somehow, it keeps getting better, when these two put their competitive nature aside to share your cock between their perfect little mouths, taking turns so that each girls spends an equal amount of time licking your balls, sucking you off, wandering their warm, wet tongues everywhere to taste every part of you that’s there.

The next time Wonyoung gets you back in her mouth, she’s even greedier than usual, and you’re in such orgasmic bliss with these two treating your cock so well. You can’t imagine handling more of this—because each time her lips get wrapped around your shaft, it might be the last before you explode.

Yujin has no complaints about being delegated to keeping your balls wet, which causes Wonyoung to abandon all elegance, when this sloppy blowjob becomes difficult to endure, these wet lips really doing a number on you.

These pretty girls, they’re so methodical in their movements, licking all the right spots on your sensitive cockhead, keeping you on edge in anticipation of your next opportunity to stuff your length down their throat. They kiss with your shaft sandwiched between their lips, exchanging saliva as they do so, and it's so wet, messy, and full of nothing but unadulterated lust, this joint oral assault to encourage the inevitable.

It’s embarrassing how much you’re moaning, spilling those sounds out between your lips like these girls spilling drool, but who could blame you, when there’s a pretty naked girl on either side of you, stretched out, leaning over in your lap, swapping your cock between them. It’s an unforgettable image that has you at their mercy.

Everything builds into this culmination of bliss, the constant head bobbing, tongue lathering, these needy little cock kisses they plant on your shaft, and it’s beyond overwhelming to have your shaft get this much attention. Their mouths feel amazing in their own unique ways: the shape of their lips, their hot breath on your balls, the vigorous use of their tongues—one more lick is enough to send you to that impending release.

There’s no way to survive much longer.

“Shit, oh god,” you moan out, because you can’t handle all this stimulation, nor can you handle Wonyoung’s lips, or how Yujin slurps on your heavy balls, both caressing a thigh, sliding an extra finger down to your balls, whatever it takes to arrive at the finish line. You can’t think straight—not when Wonyoung stays down at your base, looking up ever so often with those doe eyes, nose pressing into your crotch. This indulgent mixture of sensations has you primed to erupt.

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you blurt out, and those words come in a short breath with unbelievable bliss creeping into your voice. Neither of them seem too concerned by your announcement, no intention of slowing down as you approach your limit, and if anything, they ramp up the energy to speed this orgasm to its rightful conclusion.

“Think you can finish him off, princess?” asks Yujin, and Wonyoung gets this insulted look in her eyes when she glares daggers back.

“Better than you can.“

No more words get wasted, because Wonyoung is too dedicated to stuffing your cock down her greedy throat, earning every one of those twitches and throbs your shaft makes.

“We know you can, princess. Use that fucking throat to milk a nice, thick load out of daddy’s cock. You’ve earned that.“

There’s no stopping it. Wonyoung’s going to make you cum, no doubt, and you’re just savoring these last few moments, those wet, forceful slurps pleading for your load. Yujin squeezes your thigh to help draw it all out, and it’s just too impossible to hold out. One more stroke down to your base has you throbbing like crazy, and then you lock Wonyoung in, pressing her into your crotch while you cum down her throat, letting out these loud, desperate fucking groans—

And then you’re fervently unloading into her warm mouth, shooting out these massive spurts that fill her throat, and it’s the best reward you could give her. Wonyoung would never admit that it’s way more than she can handle, but that’s not going to stop you from pumping her throat with all your hot fucking seed, that load thick enough to choke on—but she’s taking it all so well, that pretty mouth a perfect vessel for this cum that she keeps milking all out.

“Don’t swallow yet,” Yujin commands, which is hard for Wonyoung to listen to, because there’s just so much cum that threatens to spill out between those messy red lips. In spite of that, you’re going to keep her still, making sure all your load finds its way down that throat, holding Wonyoung right there until it all starts to subside.

You know there’s nothing more they both want than to make damn sure you’re all good and emptied.

As the pleasure wanes, so does your harsh grip, and then Wonyoung pulls her lips off, which reveals your entire cock coated with messy saliva, strings of spit falling from the tip—marking the cushions.

The room falls silent as Wonyoung struggles to keep all that hot cum inside her mouth, because the temptation is sweeter than honey to just take it all down her stomach. But for a change, she’s obeying.

“Come here, princess,” Yujin says, and gestures the girl to lean her way, who does exactly so without complaint, eyes locked together. When she has Wonyoung at the perfect distance, Yujin pulls her into this obscene kiss as they share that warm mouthful of cum between their lips, swapping it, each equally greedy to take more than their share.

It’s erotic, a sight to behold, and while your high lingers, they have their playful, sloppy cum-kiss, the perfect way to end this opening climax. As their tongues stay in each other’s mouth, messy, glazed lips run with your thick cum that’s more than enough to keep you hard as a rock. It doesn’t matter who has most of the load anymore—all they care about is giving you a show, giving you this pornographic display that’s the perfect finale for this first chapter.

Neither of them ever takes the lead as they smack their cum-stained lips together, your load and their saliva mixing as one, in this absolute filthy display of gratitude that you couldn't tear your gaze away from even if you tried. When that heated kiss comes to a halt, there’s a collective grin on their lips as they both tilt their heads back, claiming their part of your seed before it fills the depths of their stomachs.

“Delicious,” Wonyoung says, while Yujin licks her lips in agreement. There’s one more lust-filled embrace, showing off empty tongues as they wander around in each other’s mouth, until they pull away and turn their attention towards you, sharing that same sense of mischievous intent.

“Not a bad little cocksucker, isn’t she, daddy?” Yujin asks, as Wonyoung runs her finger over her lips, making sure not a drop goes untasted. You’re still catching your breath as they both reach out to help you off the couch, heading towards the stairwell that leads toward the upper bedrooms.

“I’ve learned from the best.”

There’s not enough time to let that out of character compliment sink in as they both head up the stairs, leaving a trail of clothes behind as it gives one small opening to gawk at their flawless, naked bodies. Your ascent up the stairs doesn’t quite match their excitement, because you’re still recuperating, still in this post-orgasm bliss that has your legs feeling like jelly.

You saunter down the hallway with your steps light, one foot after the other, and it’s obvious which bedroom they’ve chosen. The door to yours is wide open, and the noises emanating from inside aren’t the least bit subtle. What you see when you head in doesn't leave much to the imagination; Wonyoung’s spread out in this obscene fashion on top of your bedspread, showing off that sinful figure, while Yujin lays on her stomach, head buried between those spread thighs, simply having her way with the girl’s drenched pussy.

It’s quite the shameless display to walk in on, and you feel like you’ve interrupted their fun, even if it’s your bed they’ve invaded—but a quick signal from Wonyoung’s long fingers erases that doubt, calling you over to join them.

“Started without me, huh?” you ask, as you climb onto the bed to get a closer view to the fun they’re having, this lewd display in front of you.

Yujin's unapologetic, effulgent smile is enough of an answer. She’s eating Wonyoung out with so much reckless abandon, her tongue buried inside that sweet little cunt. “Daddy took too long, and our princess here just tastes so fucking good.”

You can’t really blame her. You’d do the same. Wonyoung tastes like the best types of candy all rolled into one, such tangy, delectable sweetness that’s irresistible, impossible to get your mouth off her until you’ve made her cum six ways to Sunday.

And the way Wonyoung moans makes this even more arousing, these cute whimpers slipping out of her open lips, writhing in your sheets with each careful lick. Yujin’s not even going for the kill yet, shoving her tongue inside that needy hole as she takes it nice and slow, enjoying her pussy like fine wine. Now that you’ve joined, the slurps that fill the room get even louder, Yujin refusing to take a moment to breathe, lapping up Wonyoung’s delicious juices that soak her chin with just how wet that tasty pussy is.

“Fuck! You’re so good, so good at that, don’t stop, don’t stop, oh god, fuck, don’t stop—“

Yujin gets this insatiable look in her eyes, because she can eat pussy like nobody else, so effortlessly, like it’s her job. She knows Wonyoung’s body better than her own, knows all the right nerves to hit. With this insatiable need, she plays with Wonyoung’s swollen clit using short flicks of her tongue, both teasing and giving an overwhelming amount of pleasure, just driving the girl into an intoxicating state of bliss.

It’s fucking beautiful how sensitive Wonyoung gets in such a short span of time, and Yujin is utterly relentless, selfishly indulging herself in this shameless feast, sloppy as can be, dragging her tongue through every bit of that delicious cunt.

There’s precision in that tongue, and Yujin eats Wonyoung out like she wants to show off how fast she’ll make her cum, because it’s embarrassing how easy it is to turn the poor thing into a puddle. And when Yujin finds that sweet spot, she makes Wonyoung absolutely lose it, with her fingers all tangled in the sheets; makes her arch right off the mattress as that pretty face contorts in new unimaginable ways.

“Yu-ji—Yuj—fuck!” Wonyoung can’t even think of enough words to beg with, and her cries grow into these pathetic sobs, hips bucking on their own, as she’s trying to keep herself right on Yujin's lips. It’s quite unfair, that Yujin can turn either of you into a begging mess without trying, because her oral skills are next level, and the worst part is she knows how good she is and how easy she can make someone cum.

That arrogance grows, and Yujin is so enamored with the noises she gets Wonyoung to make, how easy it is to make her fall apart. Because she can pull back at any time, drunk on this power she holds over her that gives so many unfair advantages.

“What do you think, daddy?” Yujin asks, looking in your direction when she comes up to breathe, but doesn’t dare grant any respite, fingers frantically rubbing that throbbing little clit. “Should we let her cum?”

It’s devilish the way she asks, sinful the way she takes authority over Wonyoung’s desires—the prospect of denial a powerful high for her. There’s nothing better than seeing how Wonyoung gets such a pleading look in her eyes destined for tears, and you’re more than happy to watch Yujin edge the poor girl to oblivion. But you’ve also endured the worst of Yujin’s torturous ways too many times to count, so you know what it’s like to experience such agonizing desperation.

“Let her cum,” you say, while Yujin dives back in, licking Wonyoung’s pretty cunt with that skilled tongue that sends her flying down a path of delirium, falling apart realizing she won’t have to work for her climax. “She’s earned this one.”

Yujin can’t find any reasons to disagree, and rewards Wonyoung with such merciless slurps of her clit that’s going to have her making a mess in no time. It’s not often that Yujin doesn’t spend time playing with her food, but she’s so ruthless in her assault, because god, you know firsthand what that mouth can do to a person,

“You heard him, princess. Be a good girl and cum for us.”

There isn’t anything else that Wonyoung can do at this point, when her impending orgasm bubbles right under the surface. Yujin doesn't plan on slowing down her pace, giving it her all with nothing but unyielding strokes of her tongue, and works through every spot that gives the most priceless reactions.

“Y-Yujin, please, keep—fuck, please—“ It’s a mishmash of incoherence that Wonyoung can barely voice out, scrambling for anything in reach, the first thing she finds being your wrist as she pulls on it, her nails almost breaking the skin. Yujin makes a last ditch effort to draw out more whines, more of that sweet nectar, because she can’t get enough of how it spills onto her tongue while she licks Wonyoung just the right way, until her legs start to tremble, until she’s squirming without any self-control as she holds tight on your forearm. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, don’t—“

Wonyoung makes these breathless noises while her mouth hangs open, toes curling into the sheets—then she’s cumming on Yujin’s face without a shred of reluctance, making a total mess that she loves being responsible for. Yujin loves when she can get Wonyoung like this, get her face all covered in those delicious juices, but it’s not enough when she turns her into a shaky, uncontrollable wreck, so helplessly writhing in your sheets.

When Yujin doubles down without any warning, you can’t say you expected anything less. Her fingers get so deep in Wonyoung’s cunt that’s an utter wet mess, and you can just hear the squelch, how fucking drenched she is. That’s not enough for Yujin, who gets her mouth back on that oversensitive clit, lashing her tongue over the pink bud, all while frantically pumping away into her heat without any remorse, working both in tandem.

“No, s-stop, please—no more, I c-can’t—“ Wonyoung begs, her voice coming out strangled and weak, but Yujin ignores anything coming out of her lips as she works her fingers in a frenetic way, curling them inside knuckle deep.

“But you told me not to stop, didn’t you? Which is it, princess? Don’t you wanna cum again for us?” Uninterested in Wonyoung’s cries of protest, Yujin’s going to keep this train of overstimulation going, wringing another orgasm out of her—

And before you know it, she’s squirting all over your sheets, Yujin’s merciless fingers, and wherever else she’s allowed to.

Wonyoung’s overwhelmed to tears when she’s finishing out her second climax, but Yujin isn’t showing any intentions to stop, just ruining the poor thing to pieces, sending her through all these endless spasms that keep a smirk etched on her devilish lips.

It’s beyond evident Wonyoung can’t take it anymore, but that hasn’t stopped Yujin before. She’s intent on keeping those climaxes going by rubbing the poor girl’s sensitive clit in these unforgiving circles, staining your sheets with endless, violent gushes of squirt, like she’s getting off on how many times she can make Wonyoung get off. Only when she has her fill of sadistic pleasure does Yujin ease off, fingers absolutely drenched in arousal that she brings to her lips, making such a lewd display of cleaning them off before planting soft kisses on Wonyoung’s pussy that almost brings her to the brink of one more forceful climax.

“That’s our good girl,” Yujin says, climbing up Wonyoung's breathless form, and it finally seems like she’s done with her, stroking the pretty locks of her hair until the intense trembles start to dissipate, allowing some much needed rest.

Yujin’s attention snaps right back to you, which you’re happy to have, because that performance she’s been putting on has maintained your arousal, keeping all the blood rushing in your cock. “Daddy—“

That pause she takes makes you nervous. There’s such an overwhelming look of desire to have your cock buried deep in any part of her, getting the gears in your head turning, and there’s this mess of anticipation while you wait for what words come next.

“While our Wonyoungie rests…”

Again, there’s another moment of hesitation that makes your heart beat faster, and Yujin looks directly into your eyes in such an enticing way when she asks, ”How about you figure out how you want to fuck me?”

One of the things that you’ve come to appreciate about Yujin is how she doesn’t mince words: she’s every bit direct when offering herself up on a silver platter. The possibilities are endless, and with your imagination running wild, it’s nearly impossible to narrow it down to one.

“So, what will it be, daddy? Wanna get me on all fours? Or maybe I can ride you for a while, bounce on that thick cock until you cum. Any position you want—I can just lay here on the bed while you ram that cock in me. Whatever gets a load into me the fastest.”

All these options form this limitless menu that you could sort through forever, but deep down there’s one thing you really want, one thing that Wonyoung’s never even had before, that Yujin loves almost more than getting your cum in her, and it makes you stroke your cock just thinking about it.

“Fuck, I want your ass—wanna get you all stretched out, get my cock deep in you—want our little princess to watch me pound your tight little asshole.”

Yujin is delighted by your answer, and reaches into your nightstand drawer, pulling out a familiar bottle of lubricant (one that’s half empty, which reminds you to make a mental note to order a bigger bottle next time). Wonyoung’s still all but passed out in her haze, which works out just fine, because you won’t have any distractions to deal with.

The clear bottle gets put in your hands, and before you can open it, Yujin’s far too eager for her own good. “From behind?”

“Yeah, from behind.” It’s the classic choice, although while there’s some appeal in having her ride you with a dick in her ass, it doesn’t quite let you see all of Yujin as you would like, nor does it let you see how hard you’re going to make those cheeks bounce. Once the option gets finalized, Yujin shuffles into position and props herself right next to Wonyoung, balancing her knees into the mattress, while she leans forward on her forearms, palms flat on the sheets.

It’s quite a breathtaking view—it always is, all those voluptuous curves at your disposal when you find your place behind Yujin, palming those wide hips, and that juicy thick ass that you’re just moments away from filling all up.

Yujin’s a little more than impatient as you pop the top of the lube, spilling plenty of it right into her puckered hole, then fingering it all in. This part always gets you excited the most, feeling the heavenly tightness of her perfectly snug asshole, but you swear Yujin would rather skip the prep than waste time, as if anything other than a finger could fit in there unprepared.

Still, you don't deny yourself time to play with that hole, slipping a glistening finger in until it just about disappears, and even then it’s so suffocating around one digit, making you throb just thinking about how that same tightness will feel around your cock. After prying your finger out, Yujin is more than ready when she looks over her shoulder in anticipation, and you can’t help but give that thick ass a spank as you’re jerking lube into your cock, giving yourself some necessary relief at the same time.

Once Yujin is all good and prepped, you put one hand on her hip, and press the swollen head of your cock right against her asshole, taking your sweet time trying to enter. You hold your breath and savor the moment of trying to slide past that tense ring of muscle—even though Yujin’s an expert at taking a cock up her ass, you’ll have to show remarkable restraint, since no matter how much she relaxes, it’s just not going to go in right away.

“Fuck,” you groan out, prodding your cock at this tight barrier that feels like it’ll never give. ”Yujin, god—your asshole is just so fucking tight…”

It’s almost like a test, like Yujin wants you exhaustively overwhelmed before she’ll relax enough for you to slip in. But that’s all part of the fun, slowly working through the tight rim of her ass, that inviting stretch that never gets old, all the lube doing its part until somehow your cockhead slips in without much effort.

“Mm—daddy, more, need more…”

There’s not a hint of demand in Yujin’s tone, all this pure desire dripping like honey in her voice when she lets out all these tenuous whines. You’re not even an inch inside her ass, but it’s already too burdensome to slip more inside that hot little asshole. And yet, you can tell she just wants you to split her open.

“Daddy, come on. Need you, need you all in my ass. Don’t you wanna open me up?” And she asks that like you haven’t been trying your best, haven’t been fighting this uphill battle since you’ve lubed up your cock. Then there’s this moment—this fleeting moment where Yujin stops being all tense, where you can slide deeper, and the deeper you go, the less resistance you get, Yujin’s tight ass swallowing up more, inch by inch.

You’re almost to the hilt, and Yujin’s got clenched fistfuls of your sheets, uttering a gamut of whimpers as more of your cock disappears into her ass, absolutely driven to bottom her out.

"Just like that," Yujin tells you, like you’re already not being driven mad by how tight her asshole makes your cock feel, this intense suffocating grip that you just need a little more, just another inch or so to fill it all—

“You better not go easy on her.“

Lying on her side, Wonyoung’s gotten her energy back, and she’s just waiting for the show to start—this not so subtle reminder that she loves watching you two fuck. In typical fashion, she doesn’t want to be left out even if she’s not participating in this, and it gives you yet another excuse to not hold back.

“Oh, you’re awake. Just in time to watch how daddy’s going to stretch my ass.”

“I wasn’t—whatever, you better ruin that ass until she can’t walk,” Wonyoung says when she looks in your direction, and it’s funny how bossy she gets even in situations she’s not involved with.

“Don’t you worry. Daddy’s gonna destroy my asshole, isn’t that right?”

You don’t make any effort to answer a painfully obvious question, and instead pull your hips back to send your first swift stroke right into Yujin’s perfect ass, groaning for more. For now, you can’t quite thrust the way you like, the way Yujin wants you to, but you’ll get there soon enough as you start out slow and deliberate, moving your hips in short bursts of satisfaction. The more your dick slides in this slick little asshole, the more you open it right up, each thrust more greedy than the last, and Yujin is so eager to accept all of your length, just waiting for you to bury yourself in that thick ass.

“Its, fuck—it’s so big, daddy,” Yujin says, already falling apart by the time you manage the first thrust balls deep, and then you’re doing it again, then again, and again, your strokes beginning to deepen, your shaft disappearing in her ass with ease.

Now that you've conquered any leftover resistance, opened Yujin all the way up to accommodate your cock, nothing stands in the way from grabbing those sinful hips, holding her steady as you settle right into this quick, feverish rhythm, sliding into that tight asshole over and over, stuffing her full with your dick.

And you’re not the least bit gentle, gathering momentum as you plunge harder, your hips sending harsh slaps into the flesh of Yujin’s ass that jiggles with each thrust, driving you wild when you pump into her tight hole, fitting your cock all the way in. “Yujin—gonna fucking ruin this ass, gonna make this tight little hole mine.”

To prove your point, you slam your cock into her ass without a care, and it’s absolutely sinful how Yujin looks so needy like this, bent over in this obscene angle on her hands and knees that’s just begging you to give it to her without mercy.

Then as you dig fingers deeper into those hips, fucking Yujin nice and deep to oblige her desires, she’s pushing her body back onto you, getting you as deep as you’ll go while you pick up the pace with each subsequent thrust, until you’re pumping into her asshole in a rough, unforgiving rhythm that’s easy to get lost in.

“Daddy, your cock—it’s so perfect, please—just fuck me, my little asshole can handle it, just fucking pound me, show me how deep you can go,” Yujin says in between ragged breaths, as that ass relentlessly grips your shaft, refusing to release, claiming your cock for herself. It’s this breakneck pace that’s taking Yujin’s breath away, and she’s so content to be used like this, fists balled up in tight clenches while waiting for the next thrust.

“I don’t think you’re fucking her hard enough,” Wonyoung pipes in, getting a little too comfortable dictating on the sidelines. “I think she can handle more. Much more, come on, daddy, stretch her out with that big fucking cock.”

She’s not wrong—if Yujin is still coherent, then you haven’t done your job yet.

With every snap of your hips, those thick cheeks bounce hypnotically from the impact, and you want to keep that jiggle going, so you can't help give an open handed smack right on her round ass, relishing the startled gasp that leaves her lips when you do it once more.

“You can do better than that, can’t you, daddy? Smack that fat ass harder,” Wonyoung demands, and she’s pulling the strings a little too well for comfort. And yet—you’re inclined to follow those orders, so you smack Yujin’s ass again harder, much harder, leaving a reddening handprint on the flesh, taking in how it moves underneath your palm.

You can't help indulging yourself (and Wonyoung) with a few more, one after the other, spanking Yujin’s beautiful ass until the imprints overlap into this canvas of different shades.

"Harder, smack that fucking ass harder, daddy. Make it hurt, make it hurt so fucking good," Yujin pleas, and she’s too far gone in bliss, enjoying this role reversal that really gets you going, really gets your hips moving, because you’re just intent on dominating Yujin in ways you never have. It’s intoxicating, the power and leverage over her, just having your way with that tight impeccable body, and there’s nothing better than pounding her ass while you make those plump cheeks ripple.

It’s this perfect rhythm: a pop of your hips, a harsh thrust that hits balls deep in her asshole, then it’s followed by another smack on her ass—one that echoes, one that stings. Yujin just loves it, the pain that comes when your palm smacks that tender flesh, and the ripples never end, nor does the way her asshole clench tighter around your pistoning cock when you really give it to her like she deserves.

“This ass, Yujin, god—it just feels so fucking good,” you groan, and every time you smack that delicious flesh, Yujin lets out this delightful whine, each slap stinging more. “Do you know how much I love fucking your perfect little asshole?”

It’s rhetorical at best, but Yujin rolls her hips back into every stroke, trying to grant you even more access to wreck her ass, to get you somehow even deeper. Ever so often you catch yourself looking at Wonyoung for approval, your palm slapping with such impact that rips these helpless moans from Yujin’s throat. And then you fall in the same rhythm of your relentless thrusts, just pounding away like your hips move with a mind of their own.

Once you’ve found the perfect pace, there’s a countless number of marks all over Yujin’s ass, evidence of your handiwork that makes you grin at how red and tender those cheeks are. Your focus pivots into drilling Yujin’s stretched out hole at such a blistering pace that puts a grin on Wonyoung's oh so wicked lips.

Having control like this feels so unfamiliar, but you’ll savor every moment, as it’s not often Yujin gives it up so easily, just melting and letting herself get claimed like this. You get so greedy with your hips, driving yourself the hardest, deepest you can into her wrecked little hole that gapes on every thrust, fucking Yujin with all the force your hips can give, unwilling to slow down for anything.

“So good, daddy feels so fucking good, fuck—I love how you’re stretching out my asshole. Just ruin me, fucking ruin me, don’t stop fucking me like this, don’t fucking stop until I can feel your thick cum, fill my ass up, daddy.”

Yujin’s completely drunk on bliss, this absolute mess of euphoria that renders her nearly incomprehensible as she’s losing whatever leftover dominance lingers in her words.

“You heard her. Make sure she can’t fucking walk.” Wonyoung stares you into submission, as your thrusts get so reckless and beyond manageable. Yujin gets forced flat onto her stomach by your momentum, her legs flailing back helplessly and stretching out underneath your thighs until she’s lying prone on the sheets with her feet hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“There you go, much better. Pound her ass like a fucking whore, daddy,” Wonyoung says, the words that she’s spewing a complete 180, devoid of anything resembling elegance, and you’ve never been happier to obey them.

With your legs spread around either side of Yujin’s frame, you take greedy handfuls of those meaty cheeks for leverage, and ream into that poor asshole. Never do you break stride as you mercilessly fuck her into the mattress, drilling her ass in such a debaucherous fashion without remorse, testing the springs of your bed.

Yujin’s gotten so used to this treatment, eating it all up while she’s gotten so easy to defile, so easy for her greedy little asshole to devour your entire shaft, like it belongs there, like it has no plans on relinquishing that perfect grip.

And somehow, Yujin still feels so unimaginably tight despite everything you’ve done, despite how far you can bury your cock in that ruined hole. Maybe, you think, there’s some new angle you can hit, some new part of her that hasn’t been stretched out past its; you’re going to keep trying, going to keep destroying that ass and using her body until your cock can’t take it any longer.

“He’s fucking you so deep, isn’t he, Yujinnie? Getting that gaped little asshole ready for a huge fucking load?” You’ve gotten your fingers deep into the pillowy softness of Yujin’s ass, kneading at the delicate flesh that’s still all tender and red. Every word that escapes from Wonyoung spurs you on, urging your hips to keep this up as you work your way up Yujin’s sweaty back, snaking up her body until you reach those gorgeous messy locks that you’ve got your sights on.

And even before you get your fingers all tangled up, Yujin's chasing a final breath as you get more than a little familiar with each set of strands, grabbing deep handfuls to tug on. While Yujin can handle a rough fuck on any given day, pulling her hair like this does something extra to her, wrings out every little morsel of pleasure, makes her almost tear your sheets to shreds until she’s absolutely drooling into your mattress.

It’s then that Yujin makes these desperate, incoherent sounds that fuel your thrusts, equal parts wanton moans and whines, just all fucked out as she lies prone, embracing every forceful stroke into her ass, never ever satisfied enough.

“That’s my girl, that’s my Yujin, taking this dick so fucking well, aren’t you?” Her asshole feels so broken in by now, so accustomed to this ruthless approach of ramming your length in her, that it’s become second nature to take you so deep. There’s not a shred of mercy while you pull yourself into a squat, feet flat on the mattress, knees bent, as you absolutely drill Yujin, like she’s the most perfect toy made to take your cock.

“He’s really giving it to you, fucking you so hard and so deep. You like being daddy’s little fleshlight?” Wonyoung asks, with a no less than healthy dose of condescension in her tone as you keep Yujin pinned into the mattress, not giving her a moment to rest as you throw aside any last remnants of restraint and hammer that tight asshole with the only intention to fill it up to the brim.

“You’re just ruining daddy’s sheets, huh? And you’re just taking it all, every fucking inch, aren’t you? Fuck, your ass must feel so full of his dick right now.”

“Jealous?” Yujin asks, without even turning her head, and her voice sounds so strained, so blissed out. It isn't everyday she plays the part of submissive toy, letting you defile her body in such ways you’ve never been able to imagine as you pull on those soft strands of hair to angle her ass right for you to fit into. That warm asshole never disappoints, wrapped around you like a vice, and if you keep this up you might just—

“No, not even the littlest bit,” Wonyoung fires back, and she sounds rather insulted. “I’m just here to watch you get fucked like a good little toy, like the needy slut you are.”

As much as you’re enjoying this little back-and-forth, and as euphoric as it is to pound away at her gaped little hole, there’s so little you can do to resist your impending climax, because this isn’t sustainable, and you’re about to fucking explode inside Yujin.

"Y-you're—fuck—you’re so deep, so fucking deep. Daddy, give me that load, want it so bad—you’re gonna cum inside me, right? Want my asshole filled with all your hot cum, please—“

Yujin’s begging like her life depends on it, and it’s not like she can’t feel the twitches your cock makes whenever you get in balls deep, or how your breathing gets so erratic, like she doesn’t know you’re seconds away from throbbing to release.

You’re just counting the breaths left until you explode.

When your hands drop from those sweaty strands, you slide down her toned back, getting a good handful of ass to help smack right before the point of no return, plunging every last inch into Yujin in one last devastating thrust.

“Cum in her, fucking fill her little asshole,“ Wonyoung says, helping encourage your finale, doing her part to help drain your balls. “Wanna see you fuck a load into that pretty ass.”

Nothing you do could prevent otherwise, staying buried to the hilt while you bottom out one last time, until the tight clench of her puckered hole finishes the job. It's like there's a collective breath being let out as you start spilling into Yujin's asshole, all this hot cum filling her insides in these hot, powerful spurts that she’s milking all out, that make you groan when they shoot up from your tip into her ass, making violent throbs along with them.

There’s no better relief than this, having Wonyoung here while you flood Yujin’s wrecked hole up with cum, her walls somehow gripping tighter on your spurting cock as they urge every last drop out. Your thrusts keep every bit of strength as you spill and spill, lips kissing at the crook of Yujin’s neck so she can hear you moan directly in her ears. Yujin revels in hearing her own name when your climax keeps going, this euphoric feeling of being pumped full of warm seed invigorating her, and you know she can make a mess in your sheets from anal alone.

The bliss lasts forever—and even when you’re spent, exhausted almost beyond repair, you can’t stop moving your hips, fucking that load deeper inside her. All you want is to remain inside that heavenly ass, just stay nestled into that warm asshole for as long as possible, but Yujin’s writhing underneath you, ready to show off that thick dripping load.

Pulling out takes Herculean effort, but you want to enjoy the fruits of your labor, see how much cum Yujin has taken from you—what feels like the biggest load of your life. As you lament the loss of her tightness around you, the sight more than compensates. That gaping little hole oozes out an absolute mess, one spurt turning into several, this mesmerizing, pearlescent hot load that leaks from inside Yujin and carelessly falls onto your sheets like there won't be any end to it.

It’s a view that’ll be etched in your mind forever, Yujin in such a ruined state, spreading her cheeks to proudly display how gaped you’ve made her wrecked asshole as it leaks out your load in intermittent dribbles, and you wish you could rewind the clock and experience this all over again.

"Shit, Yujin," you whisper under your breath, not finding a better way to vocalize your raw euphoria, not even believing all this thick cum you managed to dump into her.

“Not bad, I guess,” Wonyoung says, always needing to have the final say—but she can only hide so much pretend apathy in her voice, scooting a little closer to get a proper view, and rests her hand on your back like a way of praising you for a job well done. She looks so pleased with herself, this devious smile on her lips like she’s going to take all the credit for your load leaking out of Yujin.

Before you can say anything in response, with little time to bask in the aftermath after you’ve slumped over besides Yujin, Wonyoung pulls your cock by the base closer to her mouth, taking that sensitive cockhead between those warm, plump lips and sucks what last bit of cum she can coax out.

“Fuck, hey—it’s sensitive,” you hiss in protest, but you know that doesn’t matter one bit to her. She’s learned from the master.

“I know. That’s the best part.”

Wonyoung starts sucking at the very tip, where the last remains of your essence are, sliding her lips down to your base in one fluid motion. Those lips are a blessing and a curse, so eager to clean your cock off, but it’s hard to enjoy the warmth of her mouth when you’re this fucking sensitive.

“If you want daddy’s cum so much, why don't you get over here and eat it out of my ass?" Yujin asks, in this absolute shameless way that is all the invitation she needs.

Wonyoung barely lets the words leave Yujin's mouth before dropping your cock with a greedy slurp, scrambling on the bed to position her lips so she can get a taste. Her tongue rolls out and licks up that spilled seed, hungrily lapping at Yujin's ravaged hole. There's not an ounce of timidness as she plunges in deep, tongue swirling around with intent to clean up every last bit of your load, sucking and licking it right out of Yujin’s asshole.

Yujin's clearly enjoying herself too, letting out little soft moans as Wonyoung gets her tongue buried inside that rim, lapping away, looking so desperate, so hungry.

“I think our princess really likes the taste of my ass,” Yujin teases, looking over her shoulder as Wonyoung works on cleaning her asshole. She’s long past gathering your cum out of it, just getting in there with that tongue as she takes the time to swirl around it, getting that puckered hole all nice and wet with saliva.

“Fuck, she’s almost as good at eating my ass as you are, daddy,” Yujin says, and you want to defend yourself, but you have no words. There’s no point in speaking when you can just watch Wonyoung tonguefuck Yujin’s asshole, spreading those cheeks as wide as they’ll go while she has all this urgency, her tongue getting so sloppy and invested with how the older girl tastes.

When she’s had her fill (which takes a while, because Wonyoung eats her ass like there wasn’t nearly enough cum to clean), you end up in this twisted pile of naked bodies, caught in the middle. While you lay there exhausted, catching your breath, you wonder how it got to this point—how you’ve spent more time inside these women in the past few days than you have inside a classroom.

You’re all due for a nice, long shower, but well—you know what happens in there when Yujin’s involved. Instead, you share lazy kisses with both girls, indulging the intimacy, and savoring the silence that sets in. Again. you wonder how you managed to be this lucky, how these perfect girls with these perfect bodies want to be here more than anywhere else, sprawled out in your sheets, with all these plentiful curves, like the concept of clothes never existed.

This all feels like a surreal dream that you’re scared to pinch yourself out of, scared that this blissful fantasy will get swallowed up in the ether, spitting you out alone in a cold, empty bed.

But it’s all very real.

The cute giggles they make, their radiant smiles, the tender kisses they keep peppering on your chest, neck, and everywhere they please, this innocent way they mark your body as theirs.

Nothing could be better than their impossibly warm bodies pressed close against your own as you share these quiet moments, where you could just lay here staring at them forever.

“We’re not done yet, are we?” Wonyoung asks, after what feels like hours have gone by, tracing circles along your arm as she cuddles you.

While the physical exhaustion has taken its toll, not every part of you is convinced you can't go again—but you’re more than content to just lay in this mess of limbs and never move again.

You look over at Wonyoung, then the clock on your nightstand, seeing that it’s not even close to midnight. With no classes to get in the way of the morning, your options seem limitless, and these two girls that are smothering you with affection, you know there’s no worries about their stamina.

“That all depends,” Yujin begins, caressing your cheek in this mindless matter as she nuzzles in closer, her hot breath on your neck that makes you sink into the sheets. “What do you think, daddy? Do you have another load in you?”

Just the thought of moving a muscle seems impossible, but you know this pair is just itching to deplete your reserves. “Dunno. I think I need a little convincing.”

✦ ✦

It turns out, both Wonyoung and Yujin, they’re very good at convincing you—with their mouths. A little diversion in the kitchen to down some water ends up with you sharing a tub of mint chocolate ice cream in the nude (of which is almost entirely eaten by Yujin and Wonyoung, but you'd never keep track).

Next thing you know, you’re gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, gazing down between your legs as these girls share your cock once more. And they put those ravenous lips to good use, a perfect combination of sloppy kisses and wet licks amid this strong suction that hollows out their cute cheeks.

This convincing technique, you find, is surprisingly effective, and you’ll say yes to just about anything at this stage to keep this messy blowjob going.

They could ask you to give them the sun, the moon, and the stars, and you’d oblige without hesitation, only to have their pillowy lips on your shaft, worshiping it with their slutty drooling mouths.

When this oral session shifts back to the living room, you’re the one who’s getting greedy, because hey, you’ve earned a little bit of self-indulgence. Wonyoung's upside-down, laying mostly on the couch as her head dangles off the edge, mouth full of your cock, while you fuck her throat in these unforgiving thrusts. Yujin’s got her hands preoccupied as well, not missing a chance to play with Wonyoung’s body, pinching a nipple here, sliding a finger or two in that wet cunt, or keeping a hand wrapped around her throat so she can feel your shaft bulging it.

If you were to describe Wonyoung’s current state, messy would be underselling it—she looks like a wreck, eyes starting to roll back from how deep you shove your cock down her throat, saliva spilling from those lips. Those perfect fucking lips were made for swallowing your cock balls deep.

Wonyoung might be choking on your cock a little more than usual, tears welling up at the corner of her eyes, and there’s just drool everywhere, but hey, what better way to practice than having you fuck her face upside-down?

Yujin’s there to guide her through it, offering the occasional encouragement with Wonyoung lying vertically, angled in just the right way that has you pounding into her throat without respite, defiling that face like her mouth is this pretty little toy designed to please you.

“That's a good fucking girl," Yujin tells her, and she knows the praise will only get Wonyoung more aroused—because her gurgles become louder, sloppier, lips pursing out when you just ram down her throat in merciless strokes, testing the absolute limits of her gag reflex.

"Look at you, princess, being such a good little fucktoy,” Yujin continues, while she keeps fingers gently wrapped around Wonyoung’s neck, not applying any pressure but feeling your thrusts, trying to gauge the outline of your cock within her throat. “That pretty mouth must be making daddy feel so fucking good.”

All that praise could get Wonyoung off almost as much as two fingers curled in her cunt, but all Yujin hears in response is a strained gurgle and more heavy gags as you hold your cock down her throat, watching how her dark mascara runs while your balls press against her nose.

Wonyoung struggles now more than ever, unable to maintain any semblance of composure, but you’re less concerned with fucking her face, and more interested in using her throat as as cocksleeve to keep your shaft warm. You take such long, selfish plunges, and just hold your cock there—your length stuffed deep down her throat until she gags. Then you pull out and shove yourself back in, repeating this brutal defilement of her face that makes you throb, makes Wonyoung drip between her thighs, makes Yujin proud to watch it all.

It’s messy, so fucking messy how Wonyoung’s gorgeous face can get borderline unrecognizable with how ruined her makeup is, drool spilling off her face to the carpet. That’s the best part, testing her, training her throat to take more of you. It feels like absolute fucking heaven to use her throat like this, but you can only withstand so much more of it.

“Daddy must be close. Princess, do you wanna have him bust all over that pretty face?” Wonyoung’s not in a position to answer, but everyone knows the response regardless. After one more thrust buried down her throat, you withdraw with these messy strings connecting your cock to her lips, and then you help her off the couch, get her kneeling right on the floor in front of you.

It takes every ounce of self-restraint not to explode in an instant—looking over this gorgeous mess of a girl that waits for you to make her even more of a mess, beautiful eyes pleading while you leisurely stroke your spit-drenched cock in front of her face.

“Daddy…” Wonyoung whines, and doesn’t even wipe any of the saliva that’s dripping from her face, letting it just run along her chin, down to her chest, her thighs and everywhere it wants. “Want you to blow a big fucking load on my face. Wanna be covered.”

Between those mascara smudged eyes, and the massive load you can feel churning in your balls, there couldn't be a more inviting target. Your grip gets tighter, fist coiled around your slick cock while you stroke at a maddening pace, and Wonyoung keeps her mouth hanging open, tongue out in preparation, as you give yourself a few final pumps, and then—

You cum hard with a violent groan, that milky white explosion coating Wonyoung’s face with the first big spurt, which makes her recoil at the volume of cum that hits her forehead and the bridge of her nose, trickling down towards her cheeks. You don't let her think too long, the next shot hitting her lips and her waiting tongue, and you keep blasting your load over that angelic face in an aimless direction, some ending up in her hair, others dripping down her chin.

You feel there’s no end to this as you unload on Wonyoung's face, covering those pristine features in such a thick massive load, painting her with hot white spurts that continue to blast out onto her cheeks, nose, and everywhere in between. Yujin watches it all inches away, how this hot, messy facial makes Wonyoung look even prettier, unable to stifle a laugh while she grins, because there isn’t a greater sight to her than your cum decorating that pristine face.

When it’s all over, Wonyoung basks in it, keeping her tongue out as the final spurts splash her, your heavy load dripping at a glacial pace. And it’s just absurd how good this girl looks covered in your cum, her face the absolute perfect canvas to be painted white.

“Messy little slut,” Yujin says, and there’s a unified laugh as the three of you savor the moment, what an absolute mess Wonyoung is.

✦ ✦

It goes without saying (or maybe someone should say it to her face), that Wonyoung’s a little too obsessed with her phone.

There’s hardly a moment when it’s not glued between her fingers, when she’s not throwing money at a new game (because it’s absolutely necessary that she has all the cute characters, like she’ll die without them). So it’s not surprising that Wonyoung needs to fetch her phone just to take a post-facial selfie, and still manages to make this cute expression through all the cum dripping down her face, tongue out, fingers in a v pose.

You’re sure Wonyoung’s already sent a copy to each of your phones, the perfect way to preserve such a filthy sight, because this little voyeur loves to keep evidence when the moment is right.

Not only is Wonyoung a natural in front of the camera, but she also excels at sending these naked selfies during all the wrong moments, (it’s like she knows the exact moment you step into a classroom full of people). And of course, she has a fondness when there’s someone (or herself) capturing her getting railed, so she can get off to it later when she doesn’t have class, when there’s nobody home to take care of her exhaustive needs.

You don’t get nearly enough time to enjoy your fresh load on Wonyoung’s ruined face before you’re dragged away by your aching cock towards the hallway. It’s the one that leads up to the stairwell, that’s got a full-length mirror that gets used by the girls to check themselves before heading out.

Before you can breathe, you’re pushed up against the opposite wall, where you can get a good view of Yujin’s delicious ass in the reflection. Yet, it’s hard to focus on those appetizing cheeks when she’s jerking your cock with an iron grip, as if she’s trying to stroke all the sensitivity out of it. Yujin gets a good rhythm going until she spins around on her heels, so you can get an up-close look at that perfect ass, and those absurdly thick thighs that have gone far too long without being wrapped around your head.

“Before we have our way with this naughty little princess, wanna have some fun with my thighs, daddy? I know how much you love them…”

The sultriness in Yujin’s voice causes your length to throb with need in her firm grasp, even after blowing such a huge load minutes before. You simply nod along to her little tease, taking in how beautiful her naked body is as she guides your hands to her hips, those insanely wide hips that you love squeezing, leaving marks on when you sink into the deepest parts of her from behind.

Being mentally prepared for what’s about to ensue does little, and you almost erupt again the instant Yujin squeezes her heavenly thighs together around your dick, that soft, inviting flesh snug around your length. The first few strokes of you fucking those glorious thighs are fast, greedy, and every bit desperate to keep your cock stimulated, to feel that silkiness of that bare flesh that hugs your length so well.

“Fuck…” you groan, because it feels too good not to voice your pleasure.

Wonyoung’s in the bathroom during all this, cleaning her face from the massive load you left on it, (and probably taking more cum-glazed selfies), when she comes back to the sight of you fucking Yujin’s delicious thighs in front of the mirror. Her throat’s still pretty raw from the pounding it just took, so Wonyoung leans up against the wall, keeping her eyes on how your cock slides through all this perfect, supple flesh that makes up Yujin’s thighs. All she can really do is let out an envious sigh.

Yujin’s bouncy thighs suffocate your throbbing cock, inching closer with each stroke, every needy thrust alongside her pink, dripping lips coating your trapped shaft with her nectar, and it feels as if you could erupt again any second from this relentless friction. You’ll stay in there until she can claim another load, until you’re moaning her name again, which may not be too long with how sensitive you are right now.

There’s nothing leaving your lips at this point, just tired moans when you’re watching this unfold through the mirror, how your cock gets wetter with every thrust, your fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her hips. It’s not quite as fulfilling as slamming into Yujin’s tight pussy or that asshole, but it’s enough of a delicate squeeze to get you moaning, get your precum leaking down those thighs, which is really all Yujin could ask for.

From Wonyoung’s perspective, all she can see is your tip frantically sliding through as you fuck these meaty thighs that surround your cock in so much flesh, and it’s hard to find any sort of rhythm when that familiar pressure catches you by surprise. “Yujin—“

One strained word and she knows, leading you closer towards the hallway mirror, until your tip almost touches the glass. It’s inevitable, when your cock gets squeezed this way by her juicy thighs, that you’re not lasting another minute.

Wonyoung looks on, but remains suspiciously silent when you give Yujin’s hips one more desperate squeeze, one more deep thrust between her thighs—and then you’re groaning her name on your lips, spraying the mirror with hot, sticky spurts that cling to the glass. Another thrust, and another shot of cum blasts the glass, and if you could crane your neck to see Wonyoung’s face you would see the jealousy etched, that she’s somehow envious of this inanimate object getting your load.

More thick streaks paint the glass, until your hips weaken, until your knees falter when you given all you’ve got, letting the final spurts all out, the tip of your cock kissing the cold mirror, an exclamation point on your hot, messy climax. When everything’s been exhausted from your balls, you slide out from those sticky thighs to observe how much of a mess you’ve made, so much cum pooling down that glass, staining it with your seed that trickles down all the way to the hardwood floor.

Wonyoung can’t take her eyes off all the thick cum that’s sprayed the hallway mirror, like she’ll do anything to taste it, which Yujin knows as she catches a fleeting glance, then gracefully sinks to her knees. “You can taste it when you’re the one who makes him cum.”

There’s no response but a pout. In that brief silence, Yujin slowly laps up the still warm, oozing semen, toying with it, sliding her tongue around the glass with these careful little licks to consume it all. You’ve never seen such a deflated look from Wonyoung, despite having the honors of earning your first shot of cum, she’s greedy for more, this insatiable, spoiled girl.

With one more long lick, Yujin cleans up your mess, until the mirror gets as spotless as it can be, and smiles at herself through the mirror before turning towards you both. She gets up, sucks it all down, and gives Wonyoung a kiss, who’s rather reluctant to return it given the emptiness of her mouth, but it’s at least this indirect way of getting to taste your cock, and Wonyoung would rather have that than nothing at all.

��Greedy little cumslut,” Wonyoung says, which surprises Yujin for a moment before she laughs it off while everyone exits the hallway.

✦ ✦

It’s midnight, or 2 am, you don’t even know anymore. The sun isn’t up which is all that matters, because the bedroom you're in (you’re pretty sure it’s Yujin’s but can’t quite remember) has the most beautiful view of the skyline via this large panoramic window with its curtains drawn back which lets the moon shine in. Wonyoung has had ample time to put on a fresh layer of makeup, and somehow you’ve all shared a shower without any incidents, mostly because you think Yujin’s got something devious cooked up.

When you're all settled in, Wonyoung is the only one dressed, wearing this gorgeous set of red lingerie with black stockings underneath a white silky robe, which answers why she took her sweet time in the bathroom getting all dolled up again.

Yujin quickly undoes the robe and casts it aside, leaving it crumpled on the floor as her hands roam over Wonyoung's divine body. It’s a whole ritual of admiration, how Yujin is bestowing the girl before you like this grandiose gift that’s been offered up, all adorned in lace, ribbons, and nylon, just waiting to be unwrapped. All this attention puts a shy smile on her face, because she can feel you undressing her with your eyes, and Yujin is not even remotely discreet, keeping those hands moving along her petite figure in an utterly shameless fashion.

Staying behind Wonyoung, Yujin gets all handsy, groping that tight body while she kisses the side of her delicate neck, then trails fingers down that toned abdomen, unsure of where they’ll stop. Surprisingly, Yujin is showing remarkable restraint—you know if she had her way, all that lace would be in a ripped pile on the floor, and she’d fuck Wonyoung to an early orgasm or two.

But so far, Yujin seems satisfied with merely appreciating her body, and honestly, so are you. It’s a decadent sight, how all that lace clings to her perky breasts, and you’re jealous of how Yujin has a much better view of her round ass. But the vantage point you have on the bed isn’t half bad, letting you take in those never-ending legs wrapped in enticing nylons, her body a true feast for your eyes.

“Our little princess looks so fucking sexy like this, doesn’t she, daddy?" Yujin asks, but Wonyoung keeps fidgeting from the delicate kisses placed all across her neck, unable to stay still, squirming as those hands graze all across her hot skin.

When Wonyoung looks this stunning, there's not much you can say in reply, that lace doing wonders for her body, and those stockings help accentuate her long legs just perfectly. She looks so ravishing, such a delectable treat you could eat all up. “Do you want him to fuck you? Do you want daddy to ruin that tight little cunt?”

These aren’t difficult questions, but Wonyoung still has trouble getting out a desperate nod. It’s not helping when Yujin brushes fingers over her breasts through the fabric of her bra, with taunting touches so light they can hardly be felt, just to get that anticipation going.

“Didn’t hear an answer, princess.”

Wonyoung seems like she’s forgotten what words are, too flustered from these grazes that have her biting her lip, and it’s only going to get harder for the poor girl. “Y-yes—“ she gasps out, this barely coherent syllable when Yujin starts to squeeze her breasts, getting those nipples nice and hard through her bra, awakening all that sensitivity.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear a thing, princess.” Yujin has this whole thing figured out, this meticulous plan to drive all the patience out of Wonyoung, stripping her defenses down like she plans on stripping those clothes off.

“I-I want daddy to fuck me—please. I want him so fucking bad, want daddy inside me right now—want his cum filling me up.”

“That all depends on you then,” Yujin says in a disapproving voice which gets this welling frustration forming onto Wonyoung’s pretty little face as she looks your way, like you’re going to help her out.

“Come here.” Yujin helps guide Wonyoung closer to the glass, pressing a hand against her stomach until she’s up against the windowsill. You can see the sparkle in Yujin’s eyes when she raises one of Wonyoung’s arms and binds her delicate wrist with a black strap that’s already attached to the corner of the window.

Before Wonyoung realizes what’s happening, the same happens on the opposite side, until those slender arms are tethered to each side of the window, and she’s locked in place.

Yujin never runs out of surprises.

You keep a careful eye on Wonyoung trapped against the window in such a vulnerable situation, but there’s not so much as a single whine, nor any form of complaint. Maybe it's due to her complete trust in Yujin, or the thrill of being so helpless—but most likely she’s learning that she won’t always get her way. Regardless, these restraints feel natural to her, and get a wetness going between her legs that’s going to ruin her panties.

But unsurprisingly, this isn’t all, and the second part of this surprise comes when Yujin grabs something out of the nearest drawer—a long, black strip of fabric that she dangles in the air enticingly until you realize what it is. It’s a silk blindfold, and it gets you out of your seat when Yujin offers it over to you. Looking in Wonyoung’s eyes for reassurance, you use it to cover them up, blocking her vision and leaving her in nothing but darkness.

It’s unexpected how Wonyoung never offers up any hesitation, showing her trust in you both implicitly when she leaves herself so exposed like this.

“If it gets to be too much, speak up, princess,” Yujin says, who still has her hands on Wonyoung’s stomach, the lack of vision making those touches that much more intense.

“Mhmm,” is all Wonyoung offers up, while Yujin leaves a trail of tender, warm kisses that start on her cheek and go all the way down to her exposed shoulder, traveling downwards.

When Yujin gestures over to you, suddenly there’s two pairs of hands on Wonyoung’s tight body, aimlessly wandering all over that slender frame in a coordinated effort of exploration—she wouldn’t even know which is which if not for how soft Yujin’s are in comparison.

On your part, you focus on Wonyoung’s lower half, on those luscious legs that have no business being so distracting, just running your fingers down one thigh, tracing the delicate material of her stockings with playful, light strokes.

It makes Wonyoung sigh so heavily, and then you plant these little kisses on her thighs, the parts that aren’t covered by stockings getting covered by your lips as you give both your devotion, only pulling away when you near her panties. In the meantime, Yujin pulls down the front of Wonyoung's lace bra to get her tits out, but that’s all the attention they get, fully on display without a single finger laid upon them. Yujin, you see, would prefer to pay special care to the less sensitive parts of Wonyoung's body, like those well-defined abs perfect for planting the gentlest of kisses along, making her squirm with affection that she can’t even see coming.

Your path soon diverts as you appreciate this work of art with Yujin, laying kisses against Wonyoung’s flat stomach, then licking it all up in greedy, long stripes. It says something that this is where you’ve made your centerpiece of worship, this girl that’s almost all legs, with so many other defining characteristics to her name. Yet, you can’t be torn away, working in unison with Yujin to cover Wonyoung’s bare stomach with all these hungry kisses and licks that drive her wild.

“P-please—“ Wonyoung stammers out, and you can’t stop the smile spreading across your lips from hearing her plead so soon, all this constant stimulation doing a number on her.

You can only imagine how this feels on her end, bound and blindfolded as these wet little licks and pronounced lip smacks graze her stomach, igniting the lust inside. As you’re left alone for a moment, you mark up all this delicate flesh on your own, until Yujin reappears with something in hand, something that you soon recognize as white and silicone, something that for sure is destined to go inside Wonyoung.

Not a word gets uttered when Yujin powers it on, and there’s a low hum that fills the room, instantly changing the atmosphere as Wonyoung makes a nervous gasp. She’s left in suspense for far too long, until Yujin brings the vibrator into contact with her skin, running it down the inside of her thigh for a pitiful few seconds.

It’s a shallow preview, nothing more than a sample of ecstasy that lingers when Yujin pulls it away. She then trails the toy up to Wonyoung’s stomach, making slow, meandering circles before bringing it to her nipples—first the left, then the right—neither getting the attention deserved, and then it’s off her body without a sound but the whine she makes.

Yujin lifts it up in the air just shy of her ear, this cruel way of taunting before it goes anywhere of note. “Remember the first time I made you cum with this?”

The memories come flooding back when those words get whispered into Wonyoung’s ear, and Yujin drags the toy down the side of her neck, every little vibration setting her nerves on fire. She’s so helpless like this, unable to move while shrouded in darkness, her senses heightened as Yujin presses the toy into every sensitive part on her body except where she needs it the most.

“And then you begged me to do it again. And again. And again. I made you squirt for the first time that night, didn’t I?” Yujin goes on, and she drops to her knees in front of Wonyoung as the toy wanders further and further south. It gets pressed up against the waistline of her panties, this flimsy little thing that could be torn to pieces in a light breeze. Then Yujin aims it right at her cunt, barely shielded by the barrier of those panties, and just holds it there—

Wonyoung trembles as a sharp jolt runs through her body, letting out the neediest whimpers of desperation when all that pressure is focused in just the right spot. Yujin eases the pleasure in, rubbing the toy around in tight little circles through those lace panties, getting Wonyoung all worked up, getting her to writhe against the window as she applies more pressure.

“Yujin, p-please, stop teasing. W-want that, want that inside me—f-fuck, I’ll be good! I’ll be your good girl, I promise!”

“But your promises don’t mean anything, princess,” Yujin says as Wonyoung struggles to find any friction through the thin material of her underwear, because she knows those words are empty, that she’s just saying what wants to be heard. One glimpse between her legs, and you can see how soaked those panties are, and it only gets worse when Yujin slides the intensity up.

Wonyoung lets a helpless gasp out, even as the toy refuses to linger in one spot, and instinctively pulls against the restraints on her wrists, desperate for any type of relief. Her whines get louder with every higher setting Yujin uses, until she’s borderline sobbing, that lace doing a poor job containing how soaked with arousal she is.

“Yujin, please—“ There’s so much shameless desperation in those pleas, and she can’t even finish the thought, because she’s just ruining those pretty panties, getting the fabric wetter by the second. Never does Yujin let Wonyoung settle into a comfortable rhythm, changing around the pressure, the intensity, careful to not let her fall into too much bliss.

Then it’s switched off, removed from her cunt, and all but forgotten.

“Please, n-no—need it, need you to fuck me with it. Yujin, please, u-unnie—“

“Unnie?” Yujin asks with this cute giggle, because Wonyoung only uses that word when she’s mocking her, or when she needs something bad enough. Standing up without saying anything else, Yujin gently strokes Wonyoung’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear that’s escaped underneath the blindfold.

“Hang in there, princess. Daddy’s gonna have fun with you now.”

The toy gets put in your hand, and you can see the white tip glistening wet as Yujin takes a seat on the bed, tagging herself out as she crosses her legs and settles in. Yujin doesn’t provide any other instructions, just an implication of your freedom to use this however you like—so long as the end result is Wonyoung left a total wreck.

“Oh, and daddy—“ she pauses, sitting comfortably into the mattress behind you. “Make sure she doesn’t cum. She doesn’t get to until your cock goes inside her.”

You almost feel bad—because Wonyoung’s going from one end of the spectrum to the other, overstimulation to denial. But ultimately, you know she can handle it, and this toy that holds all the power is going to be the catalyst behind all this fun.

You take a gander at the vibrator in your hand, inspecting its size and shape, the length, how it looks rather innocent with its neutral color, but that all changes when you switch it back on. It hums back to life, buzzing against your palm, and even on the lowest setting it’s rather intense, which has you understanding how it’s already done some damage against Wonyoung.

Turning it up to the highest setting gets to be far too intimidating for your liking, so you drop it back down a few notches before heading back over to Wonyoung, who hasn’t moved a muscle, hasn’t said a single word.

Her lips part ever so slightly, and her breathing quickens when the sound of the humming gets closer. Then you fall into Yujin’s position, getting on your knees, and press it right against those ruined panties. Wonyoung moans so pathetically at the first touch of contact, but you don’t even hold the toy long enough to tease, because you’ve got different plans.

As you pull away, your fingers slip into the waistband of her soaked panties, lingering for a moment until you tug them down those long legs of hers, and they hit the ground, pooling around her ankles.

“Much better. Your pussy is so pretty, princess.”

It’s a shame you can’t see her full reaction blindfolded, but with full access to Wonyoung’s wet little cunt, you guide the toy up the length of her slit to get it all nice and slick. With the merest hint of stimulation her body jerks, and when it vibrates against her sensitive clit, she can hardly stand still, that lithe body struggling to withstand the pleasure.

“Fuck, daddy!“

Unlike Yujin, you’re compelled to give Wonyoung exactly what she wants, at least in that moment. This sweet symphony Wonyoung makes when you hold the toy in place against her clit, all types of pitiful moans and needy gasps that escalate the longer the vibrations stay in place.

It’s tempting to go the Yujin route; tease the girl relentlessly, make her beg until she’s in tears, but you don’t have the patience for that, and you’re enjoying giving this modicum of pleasure that’s keeping Wonyoung so needy, unable to do anything but revel in it.

Little by little, you start to ease the toy inside, and Wonyoung tenses up, worried you’re going to slide out at the last second (and you’re still tempted to). But when the walls of her pussy spread apart, she takes the vibrator so effortlessly, muffling her relief behind all these moans.

“Is this what you need? To get your pretty little cunt fucked like this?” you ask, and it doesn’t take long to plunge this wet piece of silicone through the lips of her bare pussy, gradually building up a pace that’s guided by the slick juices dripping from her entrance.

“Y-yes, yes, daddy. Wanna be full, wanna be fucked like this, but your cock feels better, so much better…“ Wonyoung trails off, just gasping, moaning for more, falling apart at the seams.

“Don’t get greedy,” Yujin adds in, but that’s not going to deter her one bit, because even as she’s helplessly restrained like this, Wonyoung tries to grind against the toy, trying to get it to go deeper than you’ve allowed. And you’re enjoying this far too much to admonish her, so you just watch it disappear further, those pink, puffy lips engulfing the bright white shaft with little effort.

Any chance of Wonyoung articulating anything coherent escapes when you get the vibrator all inside her, and you pull it out slowly, before shoving it back in, doing the bare minimum of repetition that gets her all riled up, gets her shaking against the glass pane.

You get a nice rhythm going when plunging this toy into Wonyoung’s needy pussy in all the ways that she needs, but you have to be careful, because if it slides in just the right way she’ll cum before you know it, and she’s not going to bother warning you beforehand. During this all, her arousal gets your fingers so wet that you nearly drop the toy, but you don’t let it out of your grasp and keep it moving, keep parting those folds, and it’s again, a real shame you can’t see the frustration in her eyes.

Wonyoung is just so unapologetic about the way she needs more, begging for release that she needs more than air, like she’ll let you use her in a crowded room full of people if you just give her an orgasm, just one. But you keep it at bay and don’t dare give in to the temptation to just fuck her pretty cunt with this toy until she’s spilling all over the floor.

“What’s the matter, princess? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Yujin mocks, with this evil little laugh that gets drowned out by Wonyoung’s persistent whines while you’re making her ride that edge, keeping what she’s after just out of reach, with so many chances to reach the finish line only for it all to dissipate.

“Y-yes please, p-please, daddy, so close, I’m so fucking close—“

Wonyoung strains to do just about anything but moan at the toy shoved between her legs, imploring you to let her cum with every denial, and you realize why Yujin likes this, because taking control of her climaxes is orgasmic in itself.

One more close call brings one more set of whines, and you keep the toy buried deep within Wonyoung, allowing the vibrations to draw her desperately near, so near that she’s mindlessly tugging against the restraints, right on the brink of this seemingly unattainable goal.

“You think she’s ready to cum on your cock, daddy?”

You switch off the vibrator before uttering another word, and remove it from her pussy as Wonyoung nearly collapses from the loss of contact. When you hand it back to Yujin, it’s fucking drenched, dripping juices from every inch, this collection of all the evidence from how needy the poor girl is.

“I suppose so.”

Before Yujin takes off the blindfold, she makes Wonyoung suck the vibrator clean, tasting her own juices as if giving gratitude for all the pleasure she’s been granted.

“How do you taste, Wonyoungie?” Yujin asks as she removes the blindfold off her eyes, giving back the gift of vision and revealing tears that have formed behind the silk fabric. Next, the handcuffs get taken off, and her bra gets tossed to expose her body in its full splendor once more. Wonyoung has to be kept upright for a moment, legs barely able to hold all that weight after being pushed to the limit from so much stimulation.

“G-good. I taste good,” Wonyoung murmurs, still riding that edge of orgasm she hasn’t yet reached as she strives to cope with the overwhelming emptiness while she gets her senses back. During this little interlude, you survey the bedroom, taking note of the ruined panties that sit by Wonyoung’s feet, and this large armchair by the window that looks as good as any place to keep this going.

Once you settle into the chair, you join Yujin in staring Wonyoung down, the two of you watching this goddess of a girl breathe for a bit, hands folded in front. She’s silent, and antsy waiting for any type of command, wearing nothing else but that sexy set of stockings that‘s not going to come off.

“Come hop on this dick, princess. It's all yours."

Yujin gestures for her to join you, and the way Wonyoung approaches is almost cautious, like she’s going to have to go through another challenge before getting your dick in her cunt. But any apprehension gets cast aside when your legs spread in anticipation, and Wonyoung joins you on the plush seat, eyes full of need as she straddles you. Her stockings caress your thighs, but it’s nothing in comparison to the velvety softness of Wonyoung's skin beneath your fingertips as you trace the small of her back, and she shivers with every touch.

“Daddy…” Wonyoung starts, with a doe-eyed stare on her face as she wraps her fingers around your cock, and it’s just so hard in her hand as she gives these exploratory little pumps. With a pretense of modesty, she guides you between her legs, and struggles not to gasp at the sensation of your head pressing against her folds. “Didn’t you say this was going up my ass the next time you fucked me?”

You can’t hold back your laughter at that. “You remembered? Yeah, I did, but I’m gonna need to fill that pretty pussy first.”

A subtle nod later, and her full cheeks glow a pretty shade of red. Wonyoung stays quiet as she hovers right above your cock, nearly breathless before a single inch enters her. It’s her that’s doing the teasing now, rubbing your tip between her wet slit with this quiet little sigh that fades when she gets dangerously close to slipping you inside her.

“Hurry up and take that dick, princess,” Yujin says from her position on the bed, leaning back with her legs obscenely spread, with every intention to get off to Wonyoung riding you.

Unintentionally so, Wonyoung teases herself more than you, and she can’t fight this aching need to have you buried inside her—so she holds onto your shoulders, parting her soaking wet walls with your length. Her mouth falls open in a gasp, and despite only taking an inch or two, there’s this overwhelming tightness that makes you groan, makes your eyes seal shut to take it in.

Acting on impulse, Wonyoung sinks down more of your length before she needs to catch her breath, descending down your thick girth, little by little, just letting that tight warm hole stretch out wider and wider.

“Fuck,” she moans, throwing her head back, and even with how wet she is, how desperate she is to be filled to the hilt, it’s not the easiest thing to fit all of you in her. But that’s not going to stop her from trying, this stubborn girl sliding off your cock until there’s almost nothing left, then impaling herself down your base, nearly hilted in one go.

You have to ignore the temptation to grab those cheeks and slam every inch in. It’s not that she can’t take it, but she deserves to do this on her own, to savor the way she’s being spread open. After a few more tries, she gets a bit more daring, gets more adventurous with those hips, and starts to sink deeper with this sudden ferocity, groaning out of sheer relief when her greedy little cunt gets so close to taking everything she needs.

“Princess—“ There’s no patience left in your voice as she adjusts to your size. “Show me how much you want daddy’s cock.”

The anticipation lingers as Wonyoung holds her hips in the air, almost entirely unsheathed—and then slams back down, taking all your length into that intoxicating heat as you fill her up like nothing else can, until there’s no space left to fill.

“Oh my god, daddy—your fucking cock feels so good, so fucking big in my little pussy, I can barely take it all…”

Her hips aren’t even moving at all, and she’s just staying there seated on your cock, trying to accommodate all this thickness into her warm little hole. Whatever time she needs you’ll give, because you know when she starts bouncing on your shaft and gets those hips going, it’s going to feel like heaven, and there’s not going to be any stop to it.

“Take your time, princess. Just fuck yourself on me whenever you’re ready. You’ve been good for us, so you can cum as many times as you need—make a mess on daddy’s cock.”

It starts out with a subtle bounce of her hips, testing it all out, how Wonyoung can already feel you in her guts. Then she does it again, there’s minimal hesitation, getting all acclimated with the stretch that makes her clench around you, leaving this trail of slickness on your shaft that makes it even easier for her to slide back in.

While this goes on, you’re nestled comfortably into the armchair, letting Wonyoung set the pace, dictate exactly how much she wants to take inside that perfect cunt. It’s addictive, the way she stretches out and clenches around you, those pretty lips staying apart to get more erotic moans out as she lets more of your cock enter her at once.

“D-daddy, fuck,” Wonyoung whimpers when bringing her hips back down, almost bottoming out in succession as she finds this perfect rhythm to settle into, fucking herself on you without a care. “Your cock—“

She can’t quite get the right words out, but when she’s riding you like this, her hips do all the talking needed when she drops them, grinding with vigor, eager to extract the most pleasure from your cock that’s spreading her so wide.

“Feels better than a toy, doesn’t it?” you ask, and Wonyoung starts to put more urgency in her movements, taking these big bounces on your cock that has her moaning without restraint.

“It does,” Wonyoung says with a frantic nod, beads of sweat starting to form across that pretty face of hers as her hands find a resting place on the nape of your neck. “Not even the best toy can fill me with cum like daddy can.”

While her tight walls start to engulf more of you, there’s an immediate shift from this sweet, bashful girl, so eager to be fucked until she can’t think straight, to this brazen, cock hungry slut that’s obsessed with your dick, can’t think of anything else but when she’s going to cum.

Wonyoung just throws herself on you, riding your dick that feels so, so good inside her, swallowing up every inch with no intentions of letting anything escape. If she didn’t have some semblance of control, for sure, you’d be folding this girl in half, fucking her against a wall, or just plowing her into the sheets with your weight collapsed on top, making her absolutely scream.

Yet, for now, you’re enjoying this leisurely pace, that lets you savor Wonyoung’s tightness whenever she bottoms out, dripping out boundless amounts of arousal down your base. The best part is seeing the pleasure all over her face, these lewd expressions of hers that form when she hits the right angle, when your shaft keeps parting her slick folds and hits all those little sensitive nerves.

It’s a striking contrast between the two: Yujin gets so dominating from the get-go, taking what she wants, riding your cock with all this reckless abandon and complete disregard for anything but her own pleasure (usually with a hand around your throat). Then there’s Wonyoung at the opposite end of the spectrum, who’ll pretend to be dominant, but secretly just wants someone to have their way with her, mark all that porcelain skin up, and while it would pain her to admit it—she loves being absolutely ruined. l

Either option works for you, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t more drawn to Yujin’s more dominant nature. That doesn’t mean you aren’t enjoying Wonyoung falling apart, bit by bit, the way her pussy gets so impossibly wet, makes it so effortlessly to fuck herself on your dick.

And when Wonyoung gets more careless in her bounces, you get a firm hold on her slender waist, and dig your fingers into all that creamy flesh. Between all those pleased moans, there’s a familiar buzzing sound that remains out of sight that you can narrow down to a few feet in front of you—right between Yujin’s spread legs.

Somehow, despite the overwhelming sensations brought on by this warm, velvety cunt wrapped around your cock, you find enough willpower to tear your gaze over to where Yujin sits. She’s sprawled out on the edge of the mattress, teasing her clit with the vibrator that just wrecked Wonyoung, as if she’s trying to resist the urge to shove it all inside.

You lose eye contact with Yujin, as she’s only stolen your attention for a moment, and Wonyoung deserves it all with how well she’s riding you, putting all this energy into keeping herself nice and stretched out.

Yujin can’t take it much longer, this perfect view of her best friend getting split open by your cock, and teasing the arousal out of her pussy won't be enough. So she has to slip it inside, and a moan tumbles out when she shoves the toy all in. It’s this rare occasion where Yujin flips the script, becoming the voyeur, the one getting off to Wonyoung creaming on your dick.

What’s even better is how you can just sit back, enjoy this all, and appreciate every aspect of Wonyoung's body—how that warm cunt somehow gets tighter and tighter, thighs crashing against your own, those perky little tits putting in their best effort to bounce.

And now, she’s got the encouragement of Yujin in the background, the vibrator inside mimicking the intensity of Wonyoung's wild ride on your cock. They’re both in this trancelike state, with Wonyoung’s insatiable need to get you balls deep with every bounce that has your cock kissing her womb each time she buries you down to the hilt.

Her eagerness is what really gets you going, ignites all the twitches in your cock beyond control. You just have to explore that figure, groping whatever part of her you can get your hands on; fingers getting lost between the soft fabric of her stockings, down to the soles of her feet, massaging them enough to make her squirm, adding to the already constant moans that escape.

With both hands, you give a gentle slap to both round buttcheeks, then dip a fingertip into the arousal that drips down your length, coating it in the messy slickness that there’s no end to. The same finger grazes Wonyoung’s asshole, and you can tell by how much resistance there is even with your light teasing that nothing has ever been up there—something you’ll soon rectify.

“Daddy—“ Wonyoung gasps, and you can hardly slide a knuckle past that tight puckered hole, these light plunges giving the smallest taste of what her ass is going to take later.

“This is where I’m gonna fuck you next. Do you think you can handle it, princess?”

“Dunno. I don’t think you’ll fit…”

It does feel impossible to get into a hole like this, but you’ll do your damnedest to try—and you can only imagine how Wonyoung is going to look when you manage to fit your whole shaft in there.

“I’ll be gentle. Promise.”

She doesn’t doubt you for a second, because while her hips are bouncing up and down your shaft at an uncontrollable pace, you keep your finger teasing her snug asshole, easing her into the idea, letting her get used to being penetrated back there.

While it might be one little finger, Wonyoung can hardly take even that much, and the mere thought of anything thicker filling her ass up makes her cunt clench up in anticipation. That radiating smile soon takes over her features, replacing any leftover nervousness, because she knows you’ll guide her through it, and Yujin will be there right by her side.

“I need to hurry and make you cum then, daddy. I can’t wait to feel your thick cock in my ass.”

You give her another spank with the free hand that isn’t fingering her asshole, and it makes Wonyoung lean her head back, letting out this sinful gasp. She’s so utterly full when your finger tries to slip deeper inside her, that warm little cunt and the finger in her ass bringing all types of sensations she’s never felt before.

"You're gonna take it like the good girl you are," Yujin says with a breathy sigh, making the loudest moans that almost overpower the vibrator fucking her needy hole, and it’s impossible for you to not steal a glance. "Aren't you, princess?"

Yujin doesn't even need an answer to that, as she's just got that dazed look in her eyes while she fucks herself on this toy, trying to match the frantic pace that Wonyoung rides you in. It's mesmerizing, this chorus of moans that spills out, and Wonyoung just keeps tightening around your cock while your fingers keep playing with that puckered hole of hers, testing to see if you can even get an entire finger in (you can’t, and god, it’s going to be such a challenge getting even an inch of your cock in there).

"Fuck, just keep that up, keep riding that cock, princess,” Yujin groans, lost in all this combined pleasure that threatens to stain the carpet with the most powerful vibration the toy can offer. “Make yourself cum—then let daddy fill you up, pump all that thick cum in your pretty little pussy."

And while it feels like that finger might never fit in Wonyoung's ass, you ease out of it, get her to suck on it, to get that tight hole nice and wet as she coats it in her warm saliva. Sliding that finger back in gets easier, but this tight ring of muscle still shows so much more opposition as you try to work into this unexplored part of Wonyoung.

But she’s intent on relaxing through it, gasping when you finger her little asshole, and can’t think of anything else but being full of your hot load.

"Daddy, god, it feels so good," Wonyoung whimpers out, and all this stimulation is a lot to take, this foreign feeling of a finger in her ass combined by your cock splitting her open. Then, there’s Yujin, moaning up a storm, with her greedy cunt absolutely dripping down onto the carpet as she tries to match Wonyoung's pace, fucking herself with such urgency, and she can't seem to shut herself up.

“Make daddy cum, make him cum you little fucking slut, drain those heavy fucking balls like a good girl.“ It’s just the most absolute filth escaping Yujin’s lips, and it’s making you both absolutely lose it, wanting to blow this fucking load into Wonyoung more than ever that you might take matters into your own hands.

“Fuck—gonna cum on daddy’s big fucking cock, gonna make him breed me until that cum drips out of me. That’s what you want, right? I want you to breed me so fucking bad, just want your cum to fill this slutty little pussy up—“

All those words hold more power in them than Wonyoung knows, and it gets you sharing the responsibility, using your hips to impale your cock inside that needy cunt. You’re more than ready to unload inside her, to empty all this cum that makes her tight hole overflow, that’s going to spill wherever there isn’t room for.

When you up the aggression in this sudden shift, her petite little body just falls forward against your chest, and you knead those cheeks, spreading them apart to help your cock demolish that pussy. She’s so unbelievably tight as you’re pounding into her, slamming every throbbing inch into that heat that’s ready to take your load into her womb, because this is what she’s been dying for: to be fucked this hard, this rough.

“Daddy!”

Wonyoung clings to your body, and all she can do is hold on tight, burying her head into the crook of your neck as she gives herself wholly to lust while your cock keeps hammering into her sweet cunt. She’s so close to climax that she can taste it, and you’re not going to let up until she gets that and then some.

“Fuck, daddy, fuck, fuck!” Wonyoung cries out, her words muffled against your neck, and you keep bouncing her on your cock, sheathing your shaft into that heavenly warmth that gets tighter and tighter the closer she gets.

“Cum on his fucking cock, princess," Yujin demands, like it’s the one final thing she needs to finish herself off. “Show daddy how much you deserve that load filling up your cunt.”

You’re drilling Wonyoung like she’s begging you to, slamming her down to your base as you keep this rhythm up and take absolute control to impale every inch that’ll fit into her. The armchair meets the same fate as most furniture in the place does, getting all wet and sticky, covered in Wonyoung’s arousal as she tightens around you to an unimaginable extent. Powerless to fight back the inevitable, Wonyoung’s mouth hangs open so all the whimpers and moans get lost right in your ear as that desperate relief she’s been fighting for is within her grasp.

Her orgasm runs through her petite little frame, and then there’s all this wetness spreading everywhere that has Wonyoung shaking uncontrollably, being fucked to pieces and so overcome with relief that she’s cumming on your cock again within seconds, greedily taking as many orgasms as you’ll give her.

And when you're deep in this moment with Wonyoung, her whole body spasming as you pound her tight walls that only clench tighter, you barely notice the absence of that comforting buzz. This sudden rush of heat comes from out of nowhere, a warm tongue flicking against your balls, wrapping those full lips around them before dipping down to lick your asshole in such frantic, greedy swipes.

“Don’t mind me, daddy. Just keep going. Keep fucking this little slut until you’ve pumped her full of cum. I’m just here to help out.” If only you could see the look on Yujin’s face right now, because now that she’s left her position on the bed, you know there’s a massive wet spot that’s taken her place, all the signs of her greedy orgasms.

You didn’t exactly need the assistance, but you’re not going to complain.

The additional stimulation hits when you need it the most, because Yujin’s wet tongue against your asshole feels divine, and she gives these ravenous, wet licks that have you throbbing so violently inside Wonyoung. It doesn’t take your focus away, even as she buries her tongue right in your asshole, her sloppy licks giving one more push that’s going to have Wonyoung’s warm, wet pussy milk your heavy load right out of you any second.

This pressure keeps building and building, threatening to burst any second. All you need is one more moment to savor it before it all comes crashing down on you, Yujin going at your tight hole and Wonyoung making these blissful, drawn out moans, because she can’t stop cumming on your cock, can’t stop begging to be filled up.

Between some combination of the two, that hot little tongue and that wet pussy clinging to your cock, they both get you to explode so forcefully, flooding Wonyoung up with so much cum, more than you could ever imagine as you paint her insides a pearly white. There’s no end to it, all of this hot, sticky seed Wonyoung milks out, squeezing your shaft with those slippery walls as her sweaty body convulses against you as yet another orgasm rips through.

More of this viscous load fills Wonyoung to the brim, so much that it can’t all be contained, and leaks down to your balls. But Yujin’s right there to claim it, to make sure not a drop gets wasted. All these spurts, these hot streaks of cum that exit your balls fill Wonyoung up so well, that pretty pussy taking your load like it belongs in there.

Yujin’s hot tongue stays pressed to your balls, helping you extend that intense orgasm, stimulating whatever parts she can reach with such eagerness. Wonyoung’s in her own little world, grinding her pussy, trying to wring out all the cum from your balls, these girls are always working in tandem as Yujin helps lap up whatever escapes from that creamy cunt.

Those little licks on your balls get more sporadic to help ride out your high, and there’s already so much of your cum coating Wonyoung’s walls, leaking down your shaft. Yujin takes one more lick before rising, and she’s waiting for the rest of that thick load to spill out as Wonyoung lifts herself off your cock. That hot gushing cum flows from her pussy, all the way down to her stocking-clad thighs and onto the carpet below you, such a beautiful goddamn mess.

“Fuck, there's so much of it," Wonyoung says, out of breath, yet feeling so pumped full of cum that leaks out, and Yujin’s not even bothering to gather it up anymore, just amused by the spectacle of how much cum can fill that little pussy.

You keep your hands on Wonyoung, fingers spreading those cheeks so your load leaks out onto the floor, soaking her dark stockings that now have this distinct contrast against the creamy cum that coats them. When there's less of you seeping out of her, you lift her body off this ruined chair (another thing to add to the cleaning agenda), and hoist her in the air, kissing those tired lips while she wraps those arms around your neck.

“That’s my princess,” you say, licking the sweat off her neck as you traverse through all this wetness that’s spilled onto the sheets and carpet, laying Wonyoung down gently in a spot on the mattress that seems mostly free of Yujin’s messy fluids. Wonyoung lies back and takes a second to catch her breath, and you can’t help staring at her glistening body, as she gets that fluster on her cheeks again.

There’s no denying your interest to fuck another load into Wonyoung when she’s all spread out like this, get her in that mating press that she loves dearly and breed her again. If you didn’t need a moment to recover you’d do just that, but your reserves only have so much left, and there’s still one part of Wonyoung that hasn’t gotten your cock inside it—that waiting little asshole.

Yujin can barely contain her excitement when she lays down on the soft, cushy bed, resting her head on a pillow as her hand lazily strokes Wonyoung's body. Not even showing the least bit of exhaustion, she manages to lean in for a kiss, sharing her lips with Wonyoung who’s still getting her breath back under control.

"Do you think you can handle a cock inside your tight asshole, princess?" Yujin asks, getting straight to the point. “You’ll like it, I promise.” Those words don't come as much reassurance to Wonyoung as her eyes narrow in this adorable little worry when you caress her legs, a mess of fluids still clinging to her thighs.

“I’ll go nice and slow. Just let me know if something feels uncomfortable. You trust us, right?”

Without even a moment to think it over, Wonyoung nods, spreading those legs apart as best she can while you fish a bottle of lube out of the nightstand drawer. There’s still fresh cum leaking from her ravished pussy, and it keeps the arousal in you ignited as you snap open the bottle, slicking up a finger to spread the clear liquid against her little, mostly untouched asshole. It makes her gasp, the unfamiliar sensation as you slide this finger in and out of her puckered hole to properly prep her, quickly settling into what’s familiar, especially with Yujin showering her with kisses to ease the tension.

“Relax, Wonyoungie,” Yujin tells her, and you can’t tell if she’s impatient, nervous, or somewhere in between, but you’re pretty sure this has been on her mind the whole time since she’s asked about it. Wonyoung tries to stay relatively calm, but the finger you have in her unyielding hole can barely move, undeniable the resistance it brings.

“Princess, are you—“

“I’m ready,” Wonyoung cuts off, with eagerness written on her face, voice full of nothing but confidence. You have to make sure, because while Wonyoung is enjoying the finger slowly opening her ass up, having your cock up there is a whole different ball game.

“You sure?”

“Yes, daddy. Your cock. I want it in my asshole.”

That confidence remains strong, enough to convince you when your finger slips out of Wonyoung, and for good measure you add one more pump of lube to that hole, rubbing the leftover across your length.

"It’s going to feel so good. Just remember—relax,” Yujin says, with a reassuring look. Wonyoung needs it, and there’s a scrap of nervousness left, because while she’s good and ready for this, it’s still her first time, and her confidence only goes so far.

The heightened anticipation lingers in the air when you’re coating your cock for the second time tonight, but it has you painfully hard again at the prospect of just how good that little asshole is going to feel. Wonyoung has her eyes locked on the way you’re stroking your shaft, because she knows exactly where it’s going to go—but how it’s going to fit, neither of you can guess.

You take a moment to look into Wonyoung’s eyes for any trepidation, any last second hesitation when you line up your cock with her asshole. The look she gives back reflects your excitement, and she’s happy for you to claim her first time doing this.

A long, deep breath, and then you press your cockhead against Wonyoung’s puckered hole, easing into something so unfathomably tight. There’s little give, to no surprise, but it doesn’t feel impossible for you to go in her. It’s just going to take some extra work, you think, as you make painstakingly tiny, minuscule movements."

“Fuck…“ she breathes out, already overwhelmed by this newfound feeling of your cock in a place that’s never had anything there before. But there’s no discomfort, nothing but eyes that signal to keep this up, not more than a breathless look on Wonyoung’s face.

“Doing okay, princess?”

Wonyoung can’t quite tell if she likes this yet, but it seems so utterly preposterous that you’ll fit more of you inside this little hole.

“Yeah, I’m—it’s just so big,” she says, clenching the sheets in big fists, as Yujin caresses her body with gentle, relaxing strokes to try and get her to do just that—relax. “Don’t let me slow you down. I can take it, keep going.”

There’s not any reason to doubt her, so you take her word for it, and sink in a little deeper, that impossibly snug asshole relaxing enough to allow the tip of your cock inside. Calling this a tight fit would be an understatement, and the lack of movement you have right now is just absurd. Once you manage to get your cockhead past that rim, it starts to kick in what a struggle this is going to be.

“God, princess—your asshole is too fucking tight,” you groan, just weighed down by how limited you can thrust inside this hole, desperately attempting to slide in another inch. Not much else can be said but the obvious at this point, and as much as you’re dying to just ram into her, you’ve got to keep this patience up, because sooner or later that resistance is going to dissipate.

“Breathe,” Yujin reminds her, and it makes Wonyoung’s muscles relax enough for you to get through this impasse, to slide in past the head and then some, a monumental effort in itself. The tightness that engulfs your cock is secondary, because you’re watching Wonyoung react to it all, hoping to keep up the pleasure on her face the deeper you get.

And when you can see these little moans forming as she gets more used to this, gets used to being more stretched out, you persist, gradually sliding more of your shaft in her ass. Soon, you’ve got almost half your length in her as you’re fighting all this burgeoning pressure that prevents you from getting too greedy, a constant reminder that this isn’t Yujin who can take a jackhammering in her ass like it’s nothing.

But it’s not half bad taking this slow path, letting her asshole swallow up more of your cock whenever you withdraw. It’s just going to make the wait worth it when you can fuck her back entrance without struggle.

“Look at you, princess. Taking daddy’s cock up your ass like such a good girl,” Yujin says, planting little kisses on her other half’s collarbone, constantly finding a distraction for her. “You look like you like it.”

Wonyoung’s too embarrassed to admit, that yes, she loves this new feeling of something big filling her ass, making her feel all types of full. It’s still hard to believe how much of you can fit in this tight little asshole, but she’s relaxing, taking deep enough breaths that allow more of your cock, and before long you’ll be able to begin making shallow, tentative thrusts.

“This, this feels really good,” Wonyoung moans, as she’s been opened up enough that you can finally move your hips and fuck her asshole in earnest, stretching it out more to take you all in. “Doesn’t it feel good, daddy?”

Nothing has ever felt better, and you can barely voice your pleasure when you’re plunging into her hot tightness that’s ready for more. You grab her narrow waist and start your ascent the same way, nice and slow, careful not to go too fast or deep before pulling back out.

“Yeah, princess. You feel fucking amazing.”

Wonyoung has this intense tightness that you’ve never felt before, her hot little asshole accepting your cock into new depths a little easier each time. You’re nowhere near balls deep, but it’s enough to make her moan the more you work yourself in, becoming more full after each thrust.

“Daddy, fuck me, fuck me and get me all stretched out,” Wonyoung says, and you’re not going to disappoint, not when she’s so ready to take more than shallow pumps. So you fuck her with full, deep strokes that fits all of you in her asshole, this incredible tightness making you throb when you bottom out.

“I knew you would like it,” Yujin says, and she’s leaning over to lazily play with one of Wonyoung’s breasts, giving this half-squeeze while you’re showing her asshole less restraint. Wonyoung hates this playful tone Yujin uses on her, even if she knows she’s right, that she was destined to enjoy this from the start. It makes her clench up even tighter, the chokehold she gets your cock in only encouraging your hips to move faster.

“Daddy—oh fuck daddy, your cock feels so good. H-harder, fuck my tight asshole harder, oh god—please!” Wonyoung stammers between all these little gasps and moans, and she’s taking your cock up her ass like a natural, opening up so much that it barely resembles her first time.

Then your grip on her tiny waist gets tighter, like you don’t care if you’ll leave bruises behind, because all you can think about is how good it feels to slide your cock into this asshole unabated after all this effort you’ve put in. You’re in deeper with every stroke, stretching this impossibly tight hole that deserves it, and Wonyoung takes it with nothing but bliss in her eyes, nothing but these endless moans.

“She’s taking you so well,” Yujin says, still mindlessly teasing one of Wonyoung’s nipples, the distraction less and less necessary the more thrusts that get in her. “Who knew our princess liked it up the ass so much? Our little anal slut must be making your cock feel so good.”

“Yeah, just like you,” you say, and Yujin’s not even one bit offended, considering it feels like she likes getting her ass wrecked more than you do on some days.

“Just like me.”

It’s a title Yujin has earned, since she’s taken your cock in her ass in so many locations in and around campus, not to mention countless bathrooms, parks, and her favorite, the racquetball court at the student recreation center after class.

But at this rate Wonyoung might rival her soon, given that her asshole is taking your cock like a pro, because this girl has to prove how good she is at everything, even something that’s her first time. The superior tightness of her ass competes with Yujin, and even surpasses that pretty cunt that you just dumped a load in. She looks so blissed out, fully adjusted to how much her asshole is being stretched.

With every deep impale Wonyoung craves more, begging to get fucked just like Yujin does, and maybe you’ll let her get to that point. But for now, you’re not about to rush it, not when it feels so good to have your cock suffocated by all this immense pressure, and this view you get of Wonyoung beneath you, all spread out, clinging onto the sheets.

Even Yujin herself gets her own pleasure out of it, as her fingers sneak away from Wonyoung and work over her clit, playing with herself as your cock slams inside this tight ass over and over, harder and deeper every time.

"It's so fucking big," Wonyoung says, and her eyes are shut in concentration, so utterly lost in the feeling of your huge cock in her ass. “I can feel daddy so deep. It’s all the way in, daddy’s all the way in my little asshole.”

Wonyoung says it in this way like she can’t believe it, can’t believe she’s been stretched this much to take it all. The satisfaction of bottoming her out, it’s so pleasurable that you can’t help but prolong your movements while you let your cock rest, whenever you’re buried balls fucking deep in her ass before you move back out to do it all again.

"I think daddy likes your little asshole," Yujin says, looking pleased as ever at her remark. "Don't you, daddy?"

“Fuck yes,” you reply, and it's nearly impossible to pay attention to what she’s asking when you’re slamming into Wonyoung without pause. “This tight fucking asshole is perfect.”

You’re finally at the point where you can just ram your cock into her ass, taking these long, greedy strokes to the hilt that leave Wonyoung whimpering and moaning for more. It’s quite contrary to the start, where you could barely fit the tip of your cock in her, before she even knew how much she liked having your cock up her asshole.

And it's all so good to Yujin, who treats herself to two more orgasms before you fill Wonyoung up again. She's gone from barely hanging in there to in utter pleasure dominating her body. In the moment, her legs look so enticing, and you think there's a better position for them as you lift them up to rest on your shoulders, knees up to her chest, while you fold the girl like a piece of furniture.

“Oh fuck, daddy!” Wonyoung cries out, and the new angle lets you get in even deeper, plunging your cock so far inside her incredible warm asshole. You can’t even comprehend how tight she still feels; even at this stage, how your cock just gets choked by this surreal tightness that never falters, never lets up or relinquishes your throbbing shaft.

You’re not even bothering to watch Yujin fuck herself into her next orgasm, with your focus all on plowing Wonyoung, this tight little ring that’s swallowing you up to the base of your shaft without trouble, demanding to be gaped to its limits.

Then you’re falling into familiarity, kissing those pretty feet through her stockings while they hang over your shoulders, because it’s you who needs the distraction as you’re bound for another orgasm that’s approaching sooner than you’d like. Maybe you could hold out longer, take a break to eat Yujin out so she doesn’t have to make herself cum, but that would require pulling out of this delicious ass—and that’s not going to happen.

So, without any consideration for anything but your own selfish pleasure, you pound that asshole as best you can in this position, keeping your lips on the soft arches of her feet to keep the distraction going, and it’s just sinful how deep you’re fucking her. You won’t last, not with her insides trying to squeeze a thick load out of your balls, but you're going to keep this rhythm up, and you’re going keep that asshole stuffed with cock until the end.

In the meantime, Yujin’s had enough of fingering herself to orgasm for the time being, and she turns over on her side, to get the best view she can get.

“Are you going to cum in her?” she asks, just following your cock, watching how every inch disappears inside Wonyoung’s ass, and it takes a surplus of restraint to even answer without blowing your load early.

“Haven’t thought about it yet.”

It’s the truth, and since you've already pumped a load down her throat and another in her pussy, you could go for the hat trick. An enticing prospect, no doubt, and yet, the way that Yujin’s dragging her finger alongside Wonyoung’s flat stomach gives you second thoughts.

“Such a nice little body…" Yujin says, and she’s doing a lot more than just caressing this smooth porcelain skin, dropping a not so subtle hint where she’d like to direct your load. And you can already imagine it all, this sticky pool of white spilling over that flawless stomach, those cute tits, maybe even up to her neck, just glazing her body in copious amounts of you.

The mental image is enough to bring you closer, a constant struggle to contain it all the more you plunge your cock into Wonyoung’s ungodly tight asshole. You’re all sorts of ready to blow now, and Yujin might get her wish, but for that to happen, you'd have to pull out—an absurd demand to ask of yourself. Yet the visualization gets you so worked up, and you have no plans of letting this thought remain confined to your mind, pausing to drop Wonyoung’s legs perched on your shoulders.

Yujin places a firm hand on her stomach, and grazes her fingers along every bit of those toned abs as you let your impulses take over, pistoning your hips for just a while longer, until the last possible moment—

Then somehow, someway, you pull your cock out from Wonyoung’s asshole, where you look down to marvel at the gape left behind. And before you can even bring yourself to climax, Yujin snatches your shaft with a grip almost as tight and relentless as that puckered hole you’ve left all stretched out.

With a burning desire to finish you off herself, Yujin pumps your swollen head in her fist with strokes so frantic that it takes under a handful of seconds to empty your balls across this beautiful canvas. Thick white strands splatter in these violent throbs all over Wonyoung’s tight creamy stomach, shooting all the way up to her perky breasts as you glaze her decadent body in your warm sticky seed.

You’ve lost count of what number load this is, but it’s not any weaker than all the ones preceding it, Yujin milking it all out to decorate Wonyoung, looking up in between pumps with a small, self-satisfied smirk as your cock just erupts and erupts.

“Fuck, it’s so, so warm, it feels so good when you cum all over me, daddy,” Wonyoung says, in between tired heavy breaths that has her small chest heaving, her little mouth wide open. Yujin can’t help but indulge in this treat you’ve created, tongue dragging up against those abs to collect a creamy streak, leaving the rest of it to glisten over her roommate’s sweaty body.

All you can do is revel in the experience and admire Wonyoung's cum-splattered body, in awe how your load has painted her, basking in the aftermath of this intense, messy orgasm.

As you collapse onto one side of Wonyoung, Yujin takes her place on the other, and you’re all spent, out of breath, with this intense high still tearing through your body. And then there’s a silence that’s only interrupted by heavy breaths, as Yujin trails her fingers against Wonyoung’s sticky cum-covered stomach, pressing little kisses into her flushed skin.

“Is our princess doing okay?” Yujin asks a sudden question that elicits no reaction whatsoever from Wonyoung. She seems pretty knocked out at this point, but despite that, her eyes stay open and fixated on Yujin.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. What, did you think I couldn’t handle that?” she replies, the remnants of that arrogance coming all back out.

Yujin chuckles, amused by the nonchalant nature of that response. "Don't act like it was nothing, I saw how much you enjoyed it, the way you were moaning like a—"

“Hey! It’s only because daddy fucked my ass better than he does yours…”

“Is that so?” Yujin asks, taking the bait without even realizing. It’s funny how fast Wonyoung can fall back into that bratty persona, that demeanor returned like it never left even after she’s had her ass reamed. There’s not enough energy between the two to keep this competition going, which works just fine because you’re on the verge of passing out.

You definitely don’t think you can move after this.

✦ ✦

It’s past noon when you wake up again. You assume it’s the next day, but it could be the next week from how long you’ve been out. And you don’t even remember where your clothes are. The last thing you remember is railing Wonyoung against the shower glass, and then Yujin jerking you off all over her angelic face, because again—nobody ever gets clean in there.

Your stomach rumbles when you roll over, but thankfully, it doesn’t wake up these two beauties on either side as they sleep soundly. The peace is nice and most welcome, even if you can still feel getting kneed in the ribs in the middle of the night.

You could go for some pancakes. Or maybe pizza, but you’ll settle for just about anything that’s loaded with carbs.

If only delivery could make it all the way up to the bedroom—but then again, maybe not, they’d be plenty ashamed by the state it’s in. You could cook some eggs, and god, hot coffee sounds amazing, but that requires somehow getting out of this mess of limbs you’ve ended up tangled up in again. And to be honest, you’re quite comfortable here, sandwiched between both beautiful, naked girls, surrounded in their warmth.

"What time is it?"

It takes a second to realize where that voice comes from, a conscious Wonyoung, voice all husky and fragile.

“Dunno. Like noon? Maybe later.”

“Shit. Class—I have class today.”

“You don’t have class on the weekends, dummy.”

That other voice belongs to Yujin, who still has some adorable sleepiness in her voice. “Daddy must have really fucked your brains out. Is there anything left in there, princess?”

Wonyoung’s too tired to retort anything clever, and you’re just rolling over to bury your face in the pillows.

“Hey, don’t go back to sleep,” Yujin says, poking your cheek to keep you in this realm.

“I want breakfast. Pancakes or something—waffles, that place by campus has waffles. With blueberry syrup,” Wonyoung chimes in, like it’s a matter of urgency.

“It’s already noon,” Yujin reminds her, in this teasing way that almost takes the wind out of her sails, the poor thing.

“It’s the first meal I’m eating. So that makes it breakfast.”

You could totally bury yourself under all these covers and sleep for another four hours. And maybe that’s what you’ll do.

“Hey. Daddy��waffles!” Wonyoung says with so much excitement, shaking your shoulders for extra effect, because lord knows you can sleep through just about anything.

“Then order them,” you say, muffled through your pillow, and you don’t want to leave this comfy bed under any circumstances. Not even for waffles.

In the end, they don’t mind ordering in, because nobody is able to force themselves out of the comfort of this big, soft bed except to answer the door. Then you’ve got a massive stack of chocolate chip pancakes on your lap, Wonyoung has waffles bigger than her head (complete with her precious blueberry syrup that she drowns them in), and Yujin gets French toast smothered in syrup and powdered sugar that keeps smearing over her lips.

Wonyoung spills a drop of blueberry syrup on one of her thighs, and when you think it’s going to jumpstart another round (and god, you’re already just so tired), she cleans it up herself. Breakfast is just breakfast, a pleasant moment to get all the sugar and carbs in your bodies to replenish your energy.

And there’s really nothing better than that.

--------

First off, a huge thanks to @braaan for editing this mess, and for being such a painless, wonderful beta reader. Second, if you've made it this far, thank you!

I didn't intend to make it this long, but you know how these things go. Hopefully there’s something for everything in what is probably the most self indulgent thing I’ve ever written. <3

[xazse]

Hello! I'm a new reader and I fr love your writing, especially the scara x bunny girl!! Please need more🥺

Maybe when bunny girl got in heat while scaramouche is on a business trip. She kept touching herself but she can't cum. The best she can do probably is hump the stuffed toy scara got for her so she calls scara. However, scara kept on ranting about his day, making bunny needier so she continues her shenanigans while scara is talking. He catches her eventually and punishes her. You can be creative with it.

(I can't really depict scenarios I'm so sorry shshshshshh)

SCARAMOUCHE X BUNNYGIRL!READER

Notes: HI IM SORRY THIS IS SHORT I DIDNT WANT YOU TO THINK I WAS LIKE IGNORING YOU ITS JUST BEEN IVE BEEN IN A WRITING BLOCK SORTA 😭 I’m sorry I didn’t exactly follow the prompt I just wanted to get this out to you, again I’m extremely sorry for the lateness.

I’m so happy you love my writing and our cute bunny girl reader and scars

Pairings: Scaramouche x BunnyGirl!Reader

Tags: Humping, Scara being mean and bossy, just really filthy, hybrid!reader, Fem!Reader, NOT PROOFREAD

It’s been pure torture for you, your body feels like it’s constantly on fire and like you’re carrying a heavy weight as you go from room to room smelling various things Scara owns whilst he’s on his trip. He left you because the doctor assured that your heat wouldn’t come for at least another two weeks, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

The only things keeping you comforted and relieving your body is the stuffed animals that you insist stay on the bed when you and Scara are sleeping, he despises the things but keep them as to not upset you. So they things are filled with his scent, his lavender hair wash and woody smell lingers. You can’t help but inhale the scent in the plushies every so often.

You’ve already called him and told him about how it came earlier and the sneer that came upon his face did nothing but make you twitch, you know he’s enjoying how you’ve been suffering, he is ultimately getting off on the fact that you can’t have his cock to fill you up, it’s so frustrating but he looks so good while scolding you on how you did this on purpose, even though you literally can’t control when your heat decides to come.

One night you’re tossing and turning, when your heat finally hits you full on, moans slip from your lips as your clit throbs with need, you get a whiff of Scara again in the stuffed animal you’re currently whining into, and instantly your horny mind shifts to dirty thoughts, thoughts of his long cock battering your sensitive walls whilst he groans in your ear.

A few moments later you’re dragging your whole cunt against the poor stuffed animal, you feel bad but your hips won’t allow you to stop, won’t let you stop feeling that slight drum in your little clit. You reach your fingers down to add a little more stimulation to find your completely soaked. By now you should’ve cum, but you’re left whining into the pillows as you keep trying to hump away. His smell isn’t nearly enough your heady head deems.

You successfully managed to grab the phone and call Scara, already begging him to accept the face-call. He does and props his phone up so you can see him completely in his element, buried in paperwork with a scowl on his face, so pretty. He’s already ranting about how he hates this place and all the people in it, angry about the annoying escorts they keep sending to his room that he’s meant to fuck, he’s already said he wants nothing to do with them because they think he’ll eventually change his mind.

His eyes glide to the camera, seeing you flushed and naked? He can only see your face and shoulders.

“Are you clothed woman?” He says while closely inspecting the camera again.

Did he completely forget about the fact that you’re literally in heat?

He laughs a little and gets up, the lights in whatever room he’s in goes dark and you’re graced by his appearance again.

“What are you up to bunny?” He questions, you respond with a slight mumble under your breath but the mumble comes out too breathy. The only thing lighting up his face is the lamp by his side, it gives his skin a pretty golden gleam and that makes your cunt twitch.

“I’d forgotten about your little issue, m’sorry, do you want my help? Poor thing.” He’s doing that fake voice where it’s filled with concern but once again hes getting off on your suffering but that spurs you on too.

You hear some slight shuffling before the camera is moved downwards, where you can still see his face until his thick cock is seen, he’s fully hard: even from your conversation earlier he had been thinking and waiting for you to call him. He starts slow when he strokes himself, precise hands slide up and down while he maintains eye contact with you. You feel weird, a good weird.

“Nu, uh, bunny, don’t you dare, keep doing what you were doing before” he manages to get out inbetween stuttered breathing. He knows you were about to touch yourself using your fingers, but no he wants you to keep humping your stuffed animal.

“Won’t work, Kuni” you whine out, god he squeezes his tip, he loves when you get like this but he won’t tolerate you disobeying. “Do as I say” he gives no room for arguments with his sharp tone. Your ears deflate but you do as you’re told and start gliding your messy cunt back and forth. Scara seems pleased to see you further ruin yourself: you can see him start stroking himself faster, saying your name over and over through clenched teeth, calling you a good bunny for listening so well to him.

He tells you to show the mess you’ve made, you don’t protest as you shift to sit up and spread your legs in front of the camera, you really are dripping. He fantasizes about just how good you’ll feel wrapped around him, how he’s going to make you cum so many times on his fingers then you’ll be able to have his cock. Your fingers trail down, he’s about to scold you but you use your fingertips to pry your pussy so he can really get a full view.

Loud moans slip from his lips as his balls tighten hard, and he’s cumming with thick spurts. You don’t hear a few words but you do make out how he’ll be back shortly.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Sleep

a/n did this need to be this long? No. But is it impossible to not make everything slightly sexual with these eepy boys? Yes. Someone needs to take my phone away. I also have exhaustion fever so this is actually a fever dream. Edited version.

summary: Sleep token with a model reader (preferably fem, but you can totally make it gn) like she's not a famous model, but like she's good at what she does and so eepy boys are like, "ooh they make good sht what if we hire her for an album cover or something"

warning: slightly sexual….?

sleep token boys x reader

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“You’re looking at her like she’s the last supper," ii snorted after a while of watching Vessel practically drool over you. The post-show gatherings were rare. Well, the ones where the team could bring plus ones were. Boys usually stuck around for a quick photo, their way of showing how much they appreciated everyone’s work before they disappeared into the privacy of the back rooms. But not today. And for the very first time, it felt worth it.

“She might be," iii snickered, his eyes equally as pleased with the sight in front of him. “Let me clean your drool”, iv brings a napkin towards Vessel’s lips, one that the lead singer is quick to push away. “She would fit the next album," it’s barely a whispers, but they all fix their gaze on you now.

“I’ve seen her around," iii mutters, trying to think where it was, but the sea of people after a while just goes mushy. “Yeah, because you’ve been liking her pictures," iv says, crossing his arms over his chest. “As if that’s not weird. How the fuck would you know that?”, but the look iii shoots at his bandmate is met with a middle finger. "Vess, we already have the shoot planned for Friday”, ii is quick to interfere. He is always the most put-together one, making sure the plan stays where it should, once the ground rules are placed. "Yeah, but I don’t like what we got,"  Vess waves his hand around, “We need her," and here it is, no longer a maybe but the tone of a man who had set his mind. 

“She could be sleep”, it’s almost a plea as Vess looks among the guys. “Look at her."  Crocking his head to the side, Vess once again lets himself shamelessly admire you. “The hair, the skin, and the eyes, look at her eyes." As if feeling all four sets of eyes burning into your skin, you finally glance their way. And it’s as if, with your gaze alone, you had set off the panic. “Don’t look, don’t look,"  Vess hisses, head down, with iii grasping for his beer that nearly slipped through his fingers. “How old are we, three?”, iv hisses, placing his bottle down, before stepping forward. "Ivy,"  Vess catches his arm, but iv only gives him a serious look before adding, “This is creepy; we need to go talk to her, not gawk like a pack of creeps”. 

You watch him approach you. The confidence oozing off him feels infectious. As if the whole room is pulsing to the beat of him. "Hey," he says as he slides down the booth to get closer to you. "Hi," you greet him, smiling, as you shoot him a little wave. “Never seen you before," his voice is smooth, steady, and perky enough to make you guess that he’s smirking beneath the mask. “Is that why you were staring?”, you ask, watching his eyes. He chuckles lightly before lifting his hands up, “Caught red-handed." And you can’t help but chuckle alongside him. 

“I don’t know if you know...", iv starts after a moment. "Who you are?", you finish for him, and he visibly halts. Because that had been exactly what he was going to ask. “I do; I’m friends with Sam,"  you point to the man in question, who’s posing for a picture with a mask as well. 

“Lucky son of a bitch," iv mutters, watching him for a moment before pulling his gaze back to you. A slight silence falls. “Join us for a drink,"  he says, nodding towards the table he came from. You gaze there, earning a salute from ii. iii just lifts his bottle up. It’s Vess, whose eyes you can’t see, but you know that they are set on you. “Is this a kidnapping?”, you look up at iv. “Most definitely,"  he nods, and you’re quick to follow his actions. “Alright then.”

It feels as if an unexpectedly found puzzle piece that fit to Vess as he watches you in the glass little pool. The mesh material of your dress is soaked and floating all around you. And the rain installation slowly turning from clear to pitch black. Drowning you out in darkness. “That’s it,"  he hears the director shout, “Look up." But Vessel doesn’t even look at the actual footage the camera is getting; his gaze is glued on you. An actual vision in front of him. 

“She’s fucking good; you've got to give her that,"  ii mumbles as he too watches the shoot. All of them are here. They were never here for shit like this, but today they were almost first. “I need a picture with her; can we get her in some promo shit too?”, iii once again pushes the narrative he had been trying to shove down everyone’s throats the moment you agreed. “She might not want to,"  Vess trails off. “Have you asked?”, iii nudges him, like a kid who’s not getting the exact candy he was looking for. 

“Can you get horny from watching someone…", iii changes his tone, but iv is quick to clasp a hand over his mouth. “If you make her feel weird, I will de-ball you myself,"  he hisses, giving him a little shove. The crew helps you step out before someone is quick to drape a dry towel over your shoulders. “Here to investigate your investment?”, you shoot them a smile, surprised to see them here. Mostly because everyone reassured you that they would not be here. 

“I like to follow the process,"  Vessel blurts out. “Hope it’s up to your liking,"  you mutter right as he brushes the strand of hair away from your face. “More than exceeded my expectations." His words throw you off center for a heartbeat before a smile spreads across your face. “Mind taking more pictures?”, iv nods your way. Your shoulders sag lightly as you glance at the screen, “You don’t like these?” “Oh shit, not like that, I mean with us,"  he quickly adds. You look at them. Blinking slowly. “But you... you don’t take pictures like that,"  you frown slightly. You’ve read through the papers their management sent out this morning. There was the underlined part that said no content regarding bad members would be taken. “Just feel like changing shit up,"  Vess glances at the setup. “This won’t do, but I have an idea.”

What follows after that is a slight madman frenzy. You watch Vess explain exactly what he wants from the production team. Going as far as scribbling the placement of objects on paper. “Is he always like this?”, you ask after a moment. “Passionate?”, ii ask, and you’re quick to nod. “When inspiration strikes, yes," iii nods along. “He pretty much fell out of a second-floor bunk in the middle of the night once because a lyric came up in his head and he had nowhere to write it down."  A chuckle slips from ii’s lips, and you can’t help but glance at him. Having him be so talkative feels like a gift in a way. “That’s beautiful,"  you muse, “loving something so much." The boys simply hum in response before the makeup and clothes department ushers them in. 

“Vess will direct it from now; follow his lead; and don’t overthink it,"  the lady walking you back on stage, brushes your hand in reassurance. The place is a lot dimmer now. Yet the lights reflect off the water just as beautifully. There’s a drum set in the middle of the set, with extra support beams intact too. You frown slightly as you hand the tower off to your makeup artist. “Do you mind lying down?”, Vessel asks. “In the water?”, you ask, but Vess is quick to shake his head. “On the drums." You swallow, glancing at ii, who’s already standing by his seat. "Sure," you breathe out, stepping onto the rearranged platforms. His eyes follow your every move, and he’s quick to gesture to his chair, no doubt as a step stool for you to get on. 

“Let me help you," ii says, taking hold of your hands before steadying your steps. “Won’t I break it?", you ask, looking at the drums. “It’s a fake; even if it breaks, it doesn’t matter."  The smoothness of II's voice sends shivers down your spine as you step onto the drums before slowly lowering yourself down. ii’s hands stay nearby, you can feel their warmth but not their touch. Your eyes lock right as you sprawl out. Letting the top of your body bend over the set. 

"Fuck."  It’s so quiet and low that you’re sure you’ve imagined it. Someone warns you about the water before your body and the drums are drenched. “I’ll only hit the plates; don’t get spooked out," ii warns you, yet you don’t have a chance to answer. The drizzle picks up, you gaze up, meeting his eyes, and the sound around you erupts, alongside the flashes of the camera. It goes like that for a couple of minutes. It feels like forever and then a blink of your imagination. And then you’re being pulled back up. “Good?”, ii mutters. You nod, and he mimics your movement. “Good. It will be hard not to see you every time I look at my drums now,"  he admits before stepping aside, the prep team swarming all around you. Making your head dizzy. 

Someone’s saying something about how sets with guitars will be less challenging, and you catch the sight of iii stepping on with a mask you hadn’t yet seen. “Scary?”, he chuckles. "No,"  you say, shaking your head, feeling slightly breathless. “It’s... mesmerizing." He lets out a low laugh. “That’s a first." And within a heartbeat, you’re sitting in the water with iii towering over you. Your hands are snaking up his legs and lower stomach as you arch your head up to watch his face. There’s no way to read his emotions. However, the vein in his neck says enough. You’re aware of the flashes, but it’s as if that part of reality is not there. iii’s body disappears after a while, and then he’s right there, inches from your face, leaning forward to look right at you. 

iv strolls in almost immediately after. Sharing a look with iii as they pat each other on the shoulder. And then the man built on confidence is right in front of you. “Care for a cuddle?”, he muses, sitting down in the water and spreading his legs apart. You just stare at him. Feeling your head spin. “Do I need to sit you down?”, he shoots you a daring look, and you instantly sink to your knees. “You minx,"  he says, shaking his head, “Come on, lean against my chest." You follow his lead, sliding between his legs and letting your back rest against his chest. He pulls his guitar in front of you two. Your fingers slip onto his thighs, then slowly upon his arms and towards his guitar. Before you look up, to find his blue orbs watching you with unmatched insanity. “Get why you left II and III in shambles now,"  he says, ever so slightly brushing his masked lips against your ear. 

You feel in a trance by the time you see Vessel standing behind his keyboard stand. “Do you mind?”, you’re not sure what exactly he’s referring to, but you shook your head. And then you instantly regret not asking because his hands are around your waist as he lifts you onto the keyboard. You let out a slight shriek, and his face instantly turns to you. “It’s okay, it’s okay; just didn’t expect that,"  you’re quick to reassure him. “Just do what feels natural,"  Vess mutters before turning to step in front of the keyboard. You pull one of your legs up, bending it beneath you, and turn slightly so you can face him better. His fingers move over the keys, head down. You watch him for a moment before slowly reaching out. Fingers brushing the exposed part of his face before ever so slightly inching beneath the mask as you turn his face towards you. Trying to figure out why a man of such talent and power wasn’t all that quick to take control. 

“How much freaky is too freaky?”, you ask him. Vess crocks his head to the side before asking, “Have you seen us on stage?” You smirk, bring your other leg over the keyboard, spreading your legs enough to make room for Vessel to stand in between. “Own it then,"  you say, reaching for his hands, moving one to your hip and placing the other in the middle of your chest. “The question here is, what keys are you playing, Vess?” You stare right at him before leaning back. He’s quick to steady you. Leaving his hands where you had placed them before lifting the one resting on your chest up as if he’s pulling your soul out of your body, right as you arch your back. “Fucking vision, fucking sleep,"  Vess grunts under his breath, drinking in the sight of you. 

The photograph shouts cut, and you let yourself breathe for a moment before holding onto Vessel’s forearms as you pull yourself up. “You are something else,"  he grunts, helping you down, and you can tell that his hands linger. “They do say that I’m good at what I do."  You wink at him. “Wrapping four grown men around your finger, you mean?”, he smirks at you before nodding to the side. You glance up only to find three sets of eyes looking at you as if you had been a vision sent by god, or maybe the devil himself. 

[haetrack]

HOW IT ALL GOES | MASTERLIST

there are millions of love songs in the world. though they all speak of the same thing, they’re not all the same. love can be happy, sad, exciting, or just shown physically. love is different for everyone. there’s a song for every story, for every person who experiences love.

starring: haechan, mark, jaehyun, jaemin, and renjun!

general warnings: fluff, angst, and smut (not all fics will contain smut, so minors be aware!) fics will be tagged with their specific warnings! general yearning, heartbreak, happy and sad endings

note: the fics are not connected to each other! they can be read as stand alone fics but i hope you stay to read them all! synopses and tags might be changed during the writing process!

side note: if you would like to be tagged, please send in an ask or comment on this post!

I. (lucky for you) we’re just friends

best friend!haechan x reader

synopsis: haechan is someone who always gets what he wants. he’s willing to do anything, but now, he realizes, he doesn’t know what to do. will you, his best friend of many years, let him step into your life where he hasn’t before? do you think about him as much as he does you? or will it all slip away, along with all his memories with you. (angst, little fluff)

side a: like a friend - pulp

side b: now playing

II. no clue

one night stand!mark lee x reader

synopsis: when mark realizes how long it’s been since he’s gotten laid, he rushes out to a party. he’s quick to find someone, rushing into a room without really thinking about it. when he sees you laid under him, it clicks that he might just like you, a stranger. he tries looking for you all over campus, wanting to talk to you. how long will it take for you both to meet? do you even want to meet him? (smut, fluff, little angst)

side a: tongues - the frights

side b: now playing

III. your fate, my karma

fwb!jaehyun x reader

synopsis: jaehyun realizes he’s in love with you. it’s fucked, especially because he rejected you once before. he doesn’t want to ruin what he has with you, more importantly, the friendship he has with you. he can’t help it, not with how you look at him, how you smile, how you feel. it’s like he was made to see and touch you. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold in his secret. (smut, angst, little fluff)

side a: somethin’ stupid - frank sinatra

side b: now playing

IV. can it last forever?

boyfriend!jaemin x reader

synopsis: after many successful dates, jaemin finally asked to be your boyfriend. you were so happy in the beginning, but doubts begin to fill your head. jaemin is a loving boyfriend, but you can’t help but wonder if you deserve him. did you go into this too fast? what if this is all you have? will you be able to make him happy? (fluff, angst, suggestive)

side a: valentine - laufey

side b: flip over?

V. all to myself

acquaintance!renjun x reader

synopsis: renjun hates how all you’ve been doing is talking about another man. usually, he wouldn’t really mind. but now, he realizes the only reason why he hates it is because he likes you. you’re a friend of a friend, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to get closer to you if all you’re thinking about someone else. (fluff, smut)

side a: eastside - daisy

side b: flip over?

a/n: im so excited for this series HOORAY!!! i hope u guys are as excited as i am when i start releasing them :3 i also recommend listening to the songs i put!! the fics were inspired by them and lay out the overall feel i want the fics to have! enjoy reading :p

[roosterr]

murphy's law

a/n: ive had this idea in my head for a while so i decided to dump it out of my brain for all of you to enjoy. somewhat inspired by lunarvicar's amazing wonderful fic to the flame i really love her writing so check it out yo also i haven't written anything in years so cut me some slack :')

pairing: captain john price x gn!reader

summary: when a simple mission goes south, you get left behind in the confusion. you just can't seem to catch a break.

no use of y/n, callsign is 'vantage'

no physical description, but reader is (very) vaguely implied to be shorter than price

warnings: descriptions of injury (nothing too graphic), canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, minor character death, i don't know how the military works lmao, lots of swearing bc i can't help myself

word count: 8.6k

read it on ao3 here

✹✹✹

it was a straightforward mission; in and out, grab what you need, and you'd be home in time for dinner. nothing you hadn't handled before.

ghost and price were on overwatch; the lieutenant was positioned with his rifle on a rooftop across the street, whilst the captain stayed in the suv with a laptop to keep an eye on the surveillance cameras around the exterior of the building.

you'd had your eyes on this intel for months now, biding your time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. your opening had finally arrived, and with all that time spent planning, it was going so well.

that should have been the first red flag.

the second, more apparent, warning sign was that anything you found as you, gaz, and soap swept the building was either something you already knew, or irrelevant. how was that possible? the location of this facility was a heavily guarded secret, you'd fought tooth and nail to find it; why spend so much effort hiding something which had such little value?

you'd ventured to the second floor, up the damp stairwell and further into the eerily quiet building. there must be something worth hiding here, you just had to find it. you certainly weren't planning on going home empty handed.

you paused your movement into the dark, staring down the empty corridor through the sights of your gun. you felt your stomach turn, and swallow down the sick taste of bile in your throat. for everything you'd done to get here…

it was going so… well.

bringing your hand to the radio on your chest, you don't bother to calm the shake in your voice before speaking.

"does this feel off to anyone–"

you're cut off by price's shouting, a twinge of panic in his voice you aren't used to hearing from him.

"fuck– it's an ambush! get out of there, now!"

you're about to respond, when you hear gunshots from below you. soap and gaz were downstairs, where the hostiles were pouring into the building, and you were on your own upstairs.

the shots from ghost's rifle make your ears ring, even from across the street.

"vantage, get yer arse down here, there's too many of 'em!" soap's yelling brings you out of your haze, and you can't find the energy to respond as you take off running, back to the stairs you came up. "shit– man down! gaz is hit! they're coming up, vantage!"

you just about register what he said when the door to the stairway bursts open only a few metres ahead of you. diving into the nearest open room, you narrowly avoid a bullet to the gut, and slam the door shut behind you.

shit. fuck. fucking shit.

you counted at least four hostiles up here, and with gaz injured, soap would most likely be dragging him back to the suv you all arrived in, where price was waiting, which meant…

you really were alone.

well, ghost was out there, but he was a man of self preservation. he wouldn't risk coming in here to save you. not when you were this fucked.

your chest felt tight, now, and you could hear the enemies shouting on the other side of the wall. come on, you plead with yourself, do something!

snapping your head to look around the room you'd trapped yourself in, your eyes linger on the filing cabinets lining the wall next to you. you can drag them over here, barricade the door. 

prolong your survival, or delay the inevitable.

you hadn't noticed how hard your nails were digging into your palms until you went to grip the cabinet. the half-moon divots stung against the cool metal as you heaved it in front of the door.

now the hostiles are outside, rattling the wall with their attempts to kick the door down.

you drag another one, for safe measure. you pray they'll be heavy enough.

through the blood rushing in your ears, you can just about make out price's voice.

"vantage, answer me dammit! what is your bloody status!"

"i'm good– i'm good," you manage to get out between pants, never once taking your eyes off the door. willing your heartbeat to slow down. "not injured, just– stuck in a room upstairs."

"that doesn't sound good to me."

it all went quiet when he spoke to you. at first you thought it was just because your focus had shifted– because it was him– but it really was quiet now.

"yeah, i… they're– wait, they're not at the door anymore, they…"

hold on.

what?

"ghost, you got eyes? what's happenin' over there?" there's a sense of urgency to your captain's voice, and for a single selfish moment, you think he might be worried for you beyond that of a just soldier. your frenzied mind lingers on that thought.

the gruff voice of ghost brings you back to reality,

"they're setting charges– vantage, you need to find a way out."

charges. explosives.

all you can muster is a half-hearted, "shit…"

deep down, you know that isn't going to happen. you wouldn't have time to run down the stairs, and even if you did you'd only be walking right into their bullets. there's nothing they can do to help. and you think, deep down, they know that too.

this is it, then, you think to yourself, am i really going to die like this?

and for another fleeting moment, you're filled with regret that you would never get to see john's face again. all the stolen glances, lingering touches, inside jokes; none of it would ever amount to anything. would he remember you? would he even come back for your dog tags?

the tightness is back in your heart, but it's different this time.

your eyes still don't leave the door as your back hits the wall. the faint moonlight gives the room a soft glow, serene, and your heart sinks further into your stomach.

the moonlight;

the window, the outside.

not an ideal escape route, but these were hardly ideal circumstances.

you didn't waste a second with hesitation and backed up for a running start. you thank every deity you can think of that you always insisted on wearing a helmet.

this was going to hurt, but it was better than the alternative.

"van, you have to get out, please!" you're not even sure who's talking in your ear anymore, but you know who you want it to be.

for him, you think to yourself, i have to make it back to him.

with a deep breath, you take off into a sprint, tucking your head into your elbow and diving shoulder first through the glass.

as you free fall out the second storey window, you think you hear john calling your name, your real name, and you think you feel a flutter in your chest. it was almost peaceful.

and then you hit the ground.

with a thump and a sickening crack, you rolled unceremoniously and ended up on your side, in the snowy alleyway behind the building you were just trapped in; the building that was about to be demolished. your elbow muffled your pained cry.

right, explosives, the reason you jumped to begin with.

your teammates are still going berserk in your ear, yelling at each other or you or both, but you can't bring yourself to respond. you could answer them once you were a safe distance away– and when you could breathe without heaving. as you stand, swaying on your feet, you feel your ribs shift in a way they definitely aren't supposed to, filling you once again with the innate urge to vomit.

but you swallow that down; it'll have to wait, you need to get as far away as possible, now.

your hands braced your broken ribs– and you notice, then, that your shoulder is killing you too– as you stumble down another alley, leading away from the building. you slip and almost fall on the untouched snow, but somehow manage to catch yourself. in the back of your mind, you notice you lost your rifle at some point. you'd have to survive with just your pistol.

for a moment, you almost felt that you'd gotten away, that you'd made the perfect escape.

of course, it was too perfect.

the charges finally went off. you were thrown forward, and despite your helmet, everything went black.

✹✹✹

your ribs flared with agony at the ragged breath you took, blinking your eyes open as consciousness returned to you. darkness swarmed your vision, contrasting the pure white of the snow that was slowly freezing your extremities, and you fought with every bit of self-restraint you had not to cry. your eyes stung anyway.

how long were you out? you were still in the alley, and you hadn't been found by anyone yet, so it couldn't have been long. i need to move, is the only thought swirling in your head. with what little strength you could muster, you rolled yourself onto your back to look at the ruins behind you.

dust filled the air and coated everything in sight, obscuring your vision almost fully; but what you could make out, was the lights from your enemy's guns as they swept the rubble.

looking for you, presumably.

shit shit shit.

you had god knows how many broken ribs, your shoulder was fucked, and now your vision was swimming, and to top it all off you could barely hear yourself think over the violent ringing in your ears. this night just kept getting better and better.

it took everything in you not to scream at the agony as you dragged yourself behind a fallen dumpster, sitting up against the cold brick of the building behind you in an attempt to catch your breath.

in. out. in. out.

in.

out.

every move had your bones creaking in protest, the longer you sat here the more you felt every little cut and bruise and shard of glass littering your body. the dust in the air tickled your throat and threatened to make you cough up a lung, spots in your vision danced like fireflies, luring you back into the clutches of sleep.

no… i can't rest yet, you urged yourself to fight your drooping eyelids, i have to get back to the suv… they're waiting… for me…

the crunch of debris under heavy boots snaps you back to the present.

someone was approaching.

the optimist in you wanted to believe it was price, coming to rescue you. but you couldn't take that chance. your hand grips the pistol on your hip, drawing it out slowly to make as little noise as possible.

the shadowed figure came stumbling into view. your arm straightened to aim at their unprotected head, eyes wide and breathing laboured.

the man– the boy– locked eyes with you, flinging himself backwards to the wall opposite you with his hands held high.

your expression hardened. he was your enemy. his uniform made that clear. for a moment, neither of you moved, you weren't even sure if he was breathing anymore. like two wild animals, locked in a staredown, each of you waiting for the other to make the first move. which one of you was the hunter, and which one was the prey?

shooting him will draw his comrades over here. sparing him means he can call them over himself. a lose-lose.

lost in your internal debate as you stare at him, you vaguely notice his hand lowering to his belt, and in a moment of panic, your heart clenches in time with your finger to deliver a shot right between his eyes.

his body slid down the wall, a perfect mirror of your own as the life fades from his expression.

shit. again.

his friends must’ve heard that. with renewed, adrenaline fueled vigour, you scramble across the alley, and begin rifling through the packs on his chest and belt.

a twinge of guilt fills you as you notice his empty holsters. he wasn't even armed.

shaking your head, you find what you're looking for; a morphine shot. at least, that's what it looked like, the words on the label were swimming with the concussion you surely had. it would have to do.

you take the syringe carefully, and stick the end into the muscle of your thigh, through a rip in your pants you hadn't noticed before, and inject the solution. it would take a minute to kick in, but hopefully the painkiller would help you at least make it back to the suv where your team was waiting.

where price was waiting. god you hoped they were okay, him especially, though he was probably in the least danger of you all. what you wouldn't give to have stayed in the car with him.

pocketing the empty syringe, you spare another glance at the boy's face. his wide, lifeless eyes. the pack he was reaching for. the same one you found the morphine in.

he… was going to help you. and you'd killed him.

oh god. the realisation has your stomach turning for the third time that day.

you pressed his eyes shut and pushed yourself to stand. as you trudge your way to the far end of the alley, you keep your eyes forward. there wasn't time to linger.

with a deep breath, you steel yourself and begin to make your way through the cold, abandoned streets of the small town. the suv wasn't far, only a couple blocks away. it wouldn't take you long to get there, even with your injuries.

somewhere in the distance, you could hear terrified screaming, presumably the residents who were forced awake by the sound of the explosion.

now that the ringing had died down, you realise that you hadn't heard your teammates in a while. absent-mindedly, you bring a hand up to press the comms, and you almost start talking before you feel the plastic crunch under your fingers.

"oh for fucks sake."

of fucking course your radio was broken. it must have been crushed when you were flung forward by the explosion.

brilliant.

whatever, the suv would be in your sight soon anyway, you don't need it.

the cover of night made it significantly easier to hobble through the streets unseen, thanks to your all black gear. the enemy were still hovering around the destroyed building, but at least that meant they thought you were buried under there. hopefully they would stay distracted long enough for you to make it back.

god, fuck, you really couldn't wait to get back to base. you desperately needed a shower hot enough to melt your skin to scrub off all the dirt and blood from your body. the morphine had started to kick in now, but you still felt your ribs shift unnaturally with every heavy step. you'd definitely need a few weeks off to recover from this one, and you’d probably get an earful from the captain. you’d kill to hear his voice right now, even if he was yelling at you for being an idiot.

only a little further. then you’d be back with the safety of your team, with this godforsaken place in the rear view mirror. with the promise of being able to rest, your limbs seemed to grow heavier as the exhaustion finally made its way into your bones.

except, when you turn the final corner, you freeze, an ice-cold dread sweeping through your veins.

the car was gone.

it wasn’t there.

they weren’t there.

there was a stretch of tarmac that fresh snow just beginning to fall had yet to cover, tire-tracks that showed the u-turn the suv had done, blood on the snow from– you assume– gaz, empty bullet casings from the fight they put up.

but no suv.

no teammates.

no john.

no. no, no no no. they couldn’t have left you. that wasn’t how you did things in the 141. it was no man left behind, you knew that. maybe they’re just circling the area, you rationalised, desperately trying to calm your ragged breathing, yeah, they went to look for me. they wouldn’t leave me behind.

but they weren't here.

and as you followed the tire-tracks down the street, they didn’t go back into the town. they made a straight line, directly to the dirt track leading into the wilderness, clear as day in the snow. back the way you had all gotten here earlier that night.

your knees dampen from the snow, the painkiller in your system keeping you from feeling the impact. when did you fall over? there was no attempt to stop the searing hot tears this time as they ran through the dirt caked to your face. your throat constricted, lifting a hand to your mouth to muffle your hyperventilating.

they were gone.

long gone, without you.

they really had left you behind.

a mumble from somewhere to your left interrupts your breakdown. grief morphs into blinding rage for a split second; can i get a fucking break? you swing your arm still holding the pistol to point at whoever was watching you, twisting your abdomen in a way that has you gritting your teeth.

a woman, clutching her young son, shielding his eyes and ears from you.

you lower your gun. that’s not a mistake you’ll make twice. catching her eyes, you gesture for her to be quiet, which is quickly met with her frantic nodding.

it reminds you, you’re still not safe here. you were supposed to be, but hey, it looks like plans change. no man left behind– what a load of horseshit. you push yourself onto shaky legs, you only had a few hours until the morphine wore off, and you needed to be out of here before that happened. as fast as you could possibly muster, you begin to stumble towards the dirt track that disappears into the treeline, following the slowly disappearing tire-tracks.

✹✹✹

you managed to make it into the woods faster than you expected, and you found a fallen tree slightly off the path to take shelter behind while you licked your wounds. literal and metaphorical.

this was unbelievable. how could they leave you like that? if they’d only taken the time to do a quick lap of the building, they would’ve found you laying face down in the snow, and this whole mess could have been avoided. where were they off to in such a hurry anyway? it’s not like you guys had found anything sensitive. 

oh, wait. gaz was shot. that had briefly slipped your mind. perhaps you were being a little selfish by getting so worked up by this, but then again, for all they knew you could have been in the same condition– or worse. they…

your breath hitched. and not from your injuries.

they thought you were dead. that would make sense, in the chaos of everything, and amidst your panic, you didn’t really do a good job keeping up with answering your comms. still though, you were definitely going to rip them all a new one when you got back; or maybe it would be the other way around.

either way, you couldn’t sit here and dwell on it all night. you needed to make it to the safehouse before they flew back to base. if you missed them this time, you really were well and truly fucked.

✹✹✹

"i've gotta be at least half-way by now," you lament, flopping down against another tree with a grunt in an attempt to calm the burning in your legs and chest. the morphine had worn off about a few hours ago, and you were finally feeling all the bleeding wounds you'd ignored before. nothing lethal, you hoped, aside from your shoulder, ribs, and splitting headache, it was mostly just a lot of glass in your skin.

when you left the town, it must have been just past midnight, and at this pace it would be well after morning before you made it back. you could just about see the first signs of dawn poking through the cloud layer.

the snow had gotten heavier, casting a haze over the horizon, but it hadn't escalated into a storm yet. even under all your gear, the cold was starting to bite at your limbs. your lack of gloves was a decision you were coming to regret; if you lost any fingers because of this you really were going to kill price.

"fuck, he thinks i'm dead…" you groan as you stare up at the sky. snowflakes catch in your eyelashes and threaten to freeze the tears as they well up in your eyes. was he as distraught as you currently were, you wonder? was he even moved at all, or were you just another soldier, just more paperwork he had to fill out?

being in love with your captain was so, so difficult. a mistake, most would say, and you used to tell yourself the same thing. but after knowing him, seeing the vulnerable parts of him he keeps closely guarded, you can't bring yourself to care. seeing his expression when you gifted him the cigars you bought for him, learning his favourite drink when you all went out after missions, trading stories over paperwork in his office late at night. even after everything you've been through together, you know, in your heart, he doesn't feel the same; he's your superior, you're his sergeant, and he is nothing if not an honest man. it can never work between you two. but despite it all, the only regret you have as you sit bleeding in the snow, is that you never told him how you felt.

please, don't leave me here… 

in the back of your mind, you know they wouldn't go home without at least id-ing your body, but you were so shaken by the ongoing near death experience that your train of thought wasn't making much sense anymore.

the distant whirr of a helicopter snapped you back to reality. maybe it was… no, the 141 didn't have a helicopter here, which could only mean it was a hostile one. fucking fantastic. where you were slumped was right at the edge of the road, with very little cover from above. you needed to move further off the path, under the protection of the forest canopy.

with a laboured grunt, you pulled yourself back onto your feet, using the tree behind you as a crutch until you could catch your breath again. the helicopter was getting nearer now, close enough that you could almost make out the spotlight through the falling snow.

a brief jog was all you could manage to get away from the road. the snow wasn't deep enough to leave tracks that would be noticeable from the air, not through the shade of darkness. you still as the helicopter passes overhead. there's no change in its course, and you huff a breath of relief. at least you wouldn't have to try and outrun a chopper.

you watch the helicopter's silhouette fade into the night sky. there was nothing to do but carry on. you needed to get to the safehouse.

this was going to be a long night.

✹✹✹

hours, it had been hours since you first set off, so long in fact that it was essentially daytime. the sun hadn't fully risen, casting the world in a dim light that was just dark enough to keep you tripping over roots and holes in the ground.

the snow had let up a while ago, but the overcast clouds had stayed, the perfect match to your steadily declining mood. you thought you felt like shit earlier? if only you could have predicted how much worse it would get. you were acclimated to the pain by now, it reduced to a constant throbbing where your bones were broken. perhaps the icy temperature around you was numbing your injuries; it was either that or the shock.

ahead, you recognised a set of worn tire-tracks making a hard turn through a gap in the forest. there was no way of knowing it was the right way, but a spark of optimism ignites in your chest. maybe you were finally getting close. you just had to pray that your sense of direction was good enough to be leading you in the right direction.

you were right on top of the tracks now, and upon closer inspection, the pattern of the treads might just match the ones on the suv; you've had to fix that damn car so many times you'd know it in your sleep. they were messy, the snow making it hard to pick out, but you needed the hope right now.

this had to be them.

you go to continue down the clear path, to follow where your team had gone, but your luck just doesn't improve.

the mud slides under your foot, catching your ankle and toppling you in your attempt to struggle through. the breath is forced from your lungs as you impact the ground. you cry out through gritted teeth, feeling the strain of your muscles twisting far further than they're supposed to.

pain strikes through your ankle like lightning. drawing a breath is almost impossible from the pressure of your ribs. as you fight to sit up, the mud fights to drag you back down like quicksand.

fuck. another injury to slow you down.

muddy snow covers you from head to toe, the stabbing pain in your shoulder coming back in full force.

was that a car? the low rumbling from the direction you came from drew your attention, and you faintly see beams of headlights through the darkness. you momentarily forgot about your injuries, a frenzied panic making your blood run cold. another patrol. i need to go.

then, as you struggle to get up and out of sight, you feel a concerning pop from your kneecap, and you don't even have to look to know it's dislocated.

but there was no time to check the damage, you had to hide, now, or the truck would reach you and you'd have a lot more problems on your hands. you scramble onto your hands and knees, and yank your ankle free of the wet mud, practically throwing yourself behind the undergrowth just in time for the truck to round the bend.

your ribs are displaced again, injecting fresh pain into the shuddering breath you took, on top of your newly twisted ankle and dislocated kneecap bent uncomfortably beneath you.

it's a miracle you were able to keep quiet as the vehicle passed by.

by some stroke of luck, or just divine stupidity, your enemies drive straight past the space in the trees and your hiding spot. the headlights cast ominous shadows as they cruise by, but they didn't see you.

struggling to your feet once again, this time you give the muddy path a wide berth as you make your way deeper into the forest.

✹✹✹

one foot in front of the other. dragging your injured leg behind you. cradling your broken ribs.

just keep going.

limping through the mud took every resource your body had left, the effort of keeping upright was almost more than you could take.

how much longer could you possibly go, before you can't get back up again?

you couldn't lose hope.

ahead of you, a break in the sea of trees.

just one foot in front of the other. that's all you need. it's all you can do.

closer, stepping out into the open, squinting against the sun.

against the pale light of the morning sky, you see a dark shape. a building? you couldn't tell, you could only pray it was the warehouse you'd been longing for.

one foot in front of the other.

closer still, despite the bone-deep exhaustion in every limb. you could make it out now, the rusted metal siding and fresh tire-tracks in the mud. you were right there.

you taste the salt before you realise you're crying. 

almost,

somewhere between the agony, you hear yourself think,

still too early to celebrate.

your heart stutters. they were here, they had to be.

they had to be.

one foot in front of the other.

closer again, you focus on the keypad beside the door. your ankle twists uncomfortably as it drags along the gravel.

the handle became your crutch as you mustered the energy to lift your arm to enter the code.

seeing double, vision swaying as the edges fade.

a distant beep. a red light turning to green.

the handle turns under your weight, and the door swings open.

you find the floor coming up fast.

voices are all around you.

you give in to unconsciousness.

✹✹✹

the distinct hospital smell is what rouses you from your deep, dreamless sleep. hands prod at your busted ribs, drawing a scratchy groan from your dry throat. you grab the wrist of whoever is there as you fight to open your eyes.

"sergeant vantage?" they call out to you, and you realise with a disappointed sigh that it's the medic and not your captain. you open your eyes fully and see her standing above you with a clipboard in one hand. apart from her, you're alone in the medical wing. she notices you looking around, and looks down at the clipboard as she continues,  "glad to see you finally awake. your teammate gaz got off pretty lucky, the bullet went clean through his leg. you on the other hand, i'm impressed you made it back at all."

your ankle is in a boot and elevated on some pillows, and you can feel your knee is tightly bandaged under the blankets. an ache starts to form in your shoulder at the effort of holding your arm up.

"vantage, i need you to let go of my wrist." she says, and after an awkward pause you free her from your hold.

"sorry doc…" you mumble, bringing both hands up to your face and observing the tiny cuts littering your skin. you let them flop down to your sides again, but the aching doesn't subside.

"how are you feeling?" she breaks the momentary quiet, setting her clipboard down on the table next to your bed, "want me to get you anything?"

"i'd kill for some water…" you wheeze, the dehydration was catching up to you.

"alright, i'll be right back," the doctor affirms, making her way to the door. she turns back to look you in the eyes with a stern expression before she leaves, "please don't go anywhere."

and with that, the door clicks shut and you're left truly alone with your thoughts again.

your bones creak as you push yourself to sit up, your movements sluggish still with exhaustion, and you're reminded of just how badly you were hurt. everything aches, and it feels as though you'd been asleep for years.

gaz was okay, that's a relief. a little insulting that he got shot and was still in better condition than you, but whatever.

you look around the room for something, anything, to take your mind off the pain, and your eyes eventually land on the table beside you. a few cards sat on top, all with some variation of get well soon on the front, along with a small vase of flowers. you pick up the card closest to you and open it to read the scratchy handwriting inside.

'i swear you could survive a nuke, you're like a cockroach! get better soon, lots of love, soap! xxxxx'

what a charmer soap was. you chuckle at his lighthearted message, he always did try to keep your spirits up in times like these. as you place the card back where it was, your gaze is drawn to the empty chair next to your bed. there was a thin blanket folded over the back, probably left by whoever was last sitting there.

your mind begins to wander; how long were you out? your teammates clearly visited, does that mean price did too? you feel your stomach flutter at the thought of him worrying for you, watching over you as you recover. and if he fell asleep at your bedside? the heart monitor might call the doctor back if this train of thought continues. but then again, you doubted he'd be that forward, he would most likely be buried in paperwork like he usually is after a mission. and the mission you just came back from would require more paperwork than most.

because they… left you behind. that's right. you had to walk yourself back to the safehouse on all your injuries. who knows how long you were walking for but it must have been at least ten hours, considering the sun had risen by the time you got there. the butterflies were swiftly melted by the hot anger rising within you.

you were going to give him a piece of your mind, just like you promised.

all thoughts of the pain you were feeling are out of your head as you fling the blanket off your lower body. you grip your injured leg and lift it over the edge of the bed, swinging your other leg to plant both feet on the floor.

just as you were about to pull yourself up to stand, the door opens again and the medic walks in with your water bottle in her hand. she stops, an icy look in her eyes as she observes what you're doing.

you look back at her, debating whether you should give it up and lay back down, but your anger quickly wins over. the heart monitor picks up again as you work yourself up.

"i swear to god, if you don't sit back down right now," she makes her way over, setting the water down on the table you were using as a crutch. you meet her eyes indignantly, and go to step around her anyway. "no! you need to rest!" the doc puts her hands on your shoulders, and she stops your movement embarrassingly easily.

"fuck that," you croak, your voice still hoarse, "where's captain shithead? i need a word."

she maneuvers you back into sitting on the edge of the bed, and hands you the water. you keep your sour expression, but still drink half the bottle in one go.

"i assume you mean captain price? he's in his office, hasn't come out since you all got back." she takes the bottle from you when you're done, setting it down again, before moving to take the iv out of your arm. if she feels your glare, she doesn't acknowledge it. "whatever it is, it can wait."

"yeah right, i got a few strong words for him, and he is gonna hear 'em."

the doc hesitates as she works.

"i don't know exactly what happened out there, but i think you should know… that he hasn't visited you," she speaks softly, watching your angry expression fall. "your other teammates did, i even saw ghost sneaking out of here one night, but you didn't hear that from me."

silence overcame the small room again as her words sunk in. he left you for dead, and now he was avoiding you? even ghost visited you, and you'd barely had a single conversation with him. your heart feels tight again, the same way it did when you were trapped in that building.

"how long was i out?" your voice is low, almost a whisper.

"two days."

you should have listened to all the people who told you loving him was a bad idea. you'd almost died, and he still didn't visit you? that stung. god, you haven't even been awake an hour and you already want to throw up.

i guess i really don't mean that much to him, huh?

you think back to the night before the mission, when you'd sat with john while he did paperwork. at first, he tried to convince you to get some sleep, 

"you wanna be well rested, love."

but you stayed anyway, saying that you'd just sleep on the flight. you would rather spend your nights of insomnia with him anyway.

the two of you had talked for hours that night, about anything that came to mind. it was the early hours of the morning when you finally retreated back to your own quarters. he'd insisted on seeing you back, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night and your room was in the next building over. the way he'd lingered by your door as you said goodnight, you really thought he was going to kiss you then. but he didn't, and you went to sleep with a heavy feeling of disappointment that persevered into the next day.

"i'm sorry vantage." the medic sets something down on the end of the bed, and you turn to look. a pile of your clothes. "i know how you soldiers are, you're gonna get up as soon as i leave no matter what i say, so i'd rather you not walk around in a hospital gown."

she was right.

"...thanks, doc."

despite the overwhelming pain in your heart, you were still about to rip into price.

✹✹✹

you limp out of the infirmary after dressing yourself as quickly as your injuries would allow, which is to say, not very fast. thankfully there weren't any stairs between here and your captain's office, you definitely wouldn't be able to make it up them with your crutch.

the sun was already setting, a pink hue filling the sky as you pushed open the doors of the medical wing. you tried to think as little as possible as you made your way steadily across the courtyard. it would only upset you, and you desperately wanted to be pissed at him. you wouldn't– couldn't– let price see how hurt you were, he probably didn't care anyway. he was just your captain, after all, realistically there was no reason for you to be this upset.

but you were, and the few people you encountered in the corridors could see it written on your face, staying well out of your way as you shuffled past them.

as you stared at the closed door of john's office, your anger wavered. despite the ache in your heart, you considered for a moment that perhaps you were being dramatic. he was your captain, you were just one of his soldiers. it made perfect sense that he'd prioritise the lives of three others over yours alone.

it was his job, and he did it well.

you love john, of course you do, and that's why you're so affected by that fact. maybe you were letting your selfishness get the better of you. honestly, you didn't have a real reason to believe he felt the same way about you. everyone on task force 141 was close, that's the way things are, you couldn't confidently say he treated you differently.

but he was smart. he had to know how you felt, had at least had to know that you don't go out of your way for your other teammates as much as you do for him.

then again, even ghost had visited you while you were out, and you considered yourself much closer to price than him. so maybe he hated you now, he'd finally gotten tired of your poor decision making skills. it was the reason you were in this situation to begin with.

you were just about to abandon the idea of laying into him when price's voice sounded through the door.

"whoever's standin' out there, hurry up and come in, or piss off." he sounded exhausted, his tone blunt with annoyance. it wasn't unusual for him to get like that, especially whilst buried in mind-numbingly boring paperwork, but you could feel something else under the surface of his sharp tone.

well, there goes your last chance to run. you took a moment to steel yourself, to remember that you were in fact angry at him, and open the door with the harshest look you can muster.

he didn't look up as you let the door close behind you, keeping his nose buried in whatever report he was currently scribbling on. his hat was discarded on the desk next to him, and the hand in his hair was keeping it the messiest you'd ever seen it. you breathe in deeply through your nose.

"oh you'd love to get rid of me that easily, wouldn't you?" you spit, coming to stand in the middle of the room.

john's head snaps forward at the sound of your voice, the hand in his hair dropping to his desk, allowing you to finally get a good look at him. his eyes were wide and tired, you could tell the bags under them were darker than the last time you'd looked him in the face.

"vantage…" he spoke with something almost like disbelief, like he couldn't fathom that you were really in front of him. the hard lines of his face soften as his eyes meet yours, and then even further when his gaze falls to your crutch and boot.

fuck, how were you supposed to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that? you channel every ounce of bottled up frustration you have before his blue eyes consume you.

"well unfortunately, i am still alive. not that you give a shit; you got a restraining order on the infirmary or something?"

he murmurs your name– your real name, and as he rises to stand, his eyes don't leave yours for a second.

fuuuuuck.

"what? you leave me for dead, now the cats got your tongue?" you hiss at him, but you can feel the venom leaving your words with every second. the way his expression falls ever so slightly has you regretting what you were saying. you came in here needing to hurt him the way he hurt you, but you were quickly losing your nerve.

"don't do that…" he was almost pleading, as he made his way around his desk to stand in front of you, his piles of paperwork long forgotten. he goes to grasp your elbow, but you pull back before he can touch you. 

"sorry if you've already filled out my death certificate, i'd hate to cause you any more headaches." there was little fight left in your voice now, as you stared each other down in the middle of his office.

in the pause, john screws his eyes shut, turning his head to the side, before fixing you with a hard stare.

"don't. you know i would never've left you if i had any other choice!" it's not anger when he raises his voice, it's desperation; trying to convince himself as well as you. he takes another step towards you, toe to toe now as you lock eyes.

"do i know that? because from where i'm standing, it looks like you couldn't get far enough away from me," you can't help the way your voice cracks, nor can you disguise the hurt when you continue, "even fucking ghost visited me, but not you…"

another beat of silence.

"i couldn't…" john mumbled, eyes showing his mind was somewhere else. your chest tightened; every trace of anger was gone, replaced with the heartache you'd gotten so familiar with when it came to him.

"correct me if i'm wrong, but i really thought you cared." you try to take a step back, put some distance between the two of you, but he grabs your upper arm– successfully this time– to stop you going anywhere. it takes an impressive amount of restraint not to melt at his touch.

"of course i fuckin' care!" he growls, tugging you marginally closer.

your eyes hardened again; of course he did, just not in the way you wanted him to.

you jab your finger into his chest as you speak, your expression sour. "well you could've fooled–"

he grabs your hand as he cuts you off, and you can see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his face turning sharp again.

"bloody hell, just shut up! it killed me to leave without you, y'know that? if it weren't for simon i would've sent 'em back without me! i waited, as long as i could," he wasn't shouting, but you went quiet as if he was, any retaliation you thought of dying on your tongue. john let out a heavy sigh before he continued, "but you didn't come. you were stuck in that building, and then when it went up in fuckin' smoke, what was i supposed to think? i– we called out to you so many times, but you never responded."

the silence between you was heavy. deep down, you had already assumed everything he was telling you, but to actually hear it from his mouth had you choking up in his grasp.

"i…" you tried to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn't come. despite your best efforts, the tears welling up in your eyes were close to spilling over as your gaze fell to the floor.

john sighed again, softer this time, and using the hand on your arm he brought you into his chest, letting go of your hand with his other and wrapping it securely around your back.

you rest your cheek against his chest, bringing your own arms up around his torso, and revelled in the feeling of his embrace. listening to his elevated heartbeat, you wondered if he could feel just how hard yours was beating too.

"when you came crashin' through that door the next mornin', alive, i swear i've never been so relieved. but then you wouldn't wake up, and you were covered in so much blood… i…" his voice breaks, actually breaks, and you try to lift your head to look at him, but his hand on your arm moves up and presses into the back of your head, holding you tight against him. "...i was fuckin' terrified, love." he whispered.

"... why didn't you visit me?" the question you'd been meaning to ask all along, the real reason you had been upset at him.

you feel him press his lips into the top of your head, gently rocking you both where you stand. the crutch falls from your arm, but neither of you make any move to retrieve it.

"i couldn't. i couldn't face you, layin' in that hospital bed, hooked up to all them machines… knowin' it was my fault…"

"Hey, you know it wasn’t…" you murmur with disapproval; as much as you hate to admit it, you dug yourself into that hole.

"fuck, i'm– so fucking sorry love,"

"don't apologise… please, you did what you had to," you lift your head, and you can look him in the face again. his eyes were slightly red; if your heartstrings were pulled anymore they'd surely break. "plus, i was never really mad at you anyway."

he huffs out a small chuckle, his breath fanning over your face, the crease in his brow melting away as your eyes meet, "well ain't that a relief?"

"i thought you were pissed at me, and that's why you didn't visit…" you clear your throat and avoid his gaze, "i mean, i did lock myself in a building full of hostiles… not my finest moment,"

"no. as stupid as you are sometimes, i could never be angry at you." 

"that is a relief."

a quiet overcomes the two of you, standing in eachothers arms as the evening sun casts the room in an orange glow. you wanted to stay like this for the rest of time, but it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the voice in the back of your head that said this was inappropriate. the way he was talking, holding you, had your hopes high, just like that night before the mission. the one where you went to bed disappointed. it didn't help that you were expecting the let-down now, if anything it only made your heart sink even lower.

you notice that, exactly like you, john was staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. you tilt your head, wordlessly urging him to tell you what's going on. he sighs, scanning the multitude of cuts and scrapes that litter your face, "i promise you, i will never let anything like that happen again, alright?"

"i believe you." you smile softly, and you do; of course you do, you'd trust him with your life. it wasn't something you'd admit out loud, but you would do just about anything if he asked you to.

"i swear, i'm not lettin' you outta my sight." the look on his face has you squirming is his grasp, under the intense gaze he pinned you with.

"alright, i get it," you chuckle, your face heating up at the implication. this was doing nothing for the enormous crush you were harbouring. shuffling backwards slightly, you put enough space between you that you can comfortably rest your hands on his chest.

"i don't think you do, love," you feel his chest rumble as he speaks, and his gaze becomes serious, "i coulda' lost you. i thought i did. fuck, when soap and gaz came outta there without you? i thought my heart'd stopped… i just– i…"

it was rare to see your captain so lost for words. you feel his heart beat faster under your fingertips, the distant look in his eyes giving away the internal debate he was surely having.

"john?"

"if i'm out of order, say the word and we can forget all about this, but vantage…" his voice was low, and you felt your cheeks heat up to a boiling point as he cradled your face with one hand and leaned in closer, chest to chest again. the anticipation and the proximity might just make you sick. "you mean the world to me, i don't know what i'd do with myself if i lost you."

was that… what you thought it was? it sounded an awful lot like a confession, and you really really wanted it to be, but… was it too good to be true?

the lack of a response from you had john pulling back with an uncharacteristic cough that radiated embarrassment. he let go of your face, hovering next to your cheek as if he couldn't bear to let go, and you frown at the absence of his warmth.

"just ignore me, i shouldn't've–" he begins to back-pedel, going to move away from you before you cut him off.

"no!" you exclaim, with a bit more panic than you intended, and grasp his shirt in your fists to keep him close. "i get it, i really do. i- i care about you too, probably a lot more than a teammate should." your face heats up at the admission, and he lights up with surprise. "i think i always have."

slowly, he moves his hand back to its place cupping your jaw, searching your eyes for any signs that he was misinterpreting your response. when he found none, he smiled at you so genuinely you doubted anyone had ever been so sincere towards you.

"yeah?" he murmurs, the slight disbelief gone from his expression but still present in his voice.

"yes, john," you mirror his tone, bringing a hand up to hold the back of his neck. his skin burned hot under your touch.

"well thank god for that," his voice is barely a whisper now, as he draws your lips closer to his. the air separating you felt thick enough to be cut.

you let your eyes fall closed, and with a small burst of confidence, you lean forward and close the final distance between the two of you. he kisses you so tenderly, with so much emotion, it makes your head spin. you sigh into him, tilting your head and pressing yourself impossibly closer, revelling in the feeling of being in his arms at last. all your many months of pining had led up to this moment, and you felt like your heart might just burst. regretfully, you find yourself needing to break away for air, and to your delight he follows your lips as you pull back.

"maybe i should get injured more often, if this is what i get," you breathe, a dazed smile on your face as both your eyes flutter open, and his chest rumbles under your hand with a deep chuckle.

"you better not; i'll have your head if you do, love."

✹✹✹

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for avoiding my husband on purpose, like, all the time? my husband (m36) and i (f34) have been married for almost 10 years (anniversary in a few months). we have 3 kids (m10, f8, f1) and he works full time while i stay at home. even before we got married i didnt really have friends other than him, and i always had a hard time finding excuses to get out of the house. frequently, he gets to hang out with his buddies who he also works with, and ever since we had kids he's always going out and leaving me home alone even when hes not at work just to idk. hang out at bars and pretend we don't exist. well lately ive been making time for myself to go out when the kids are at school (my youngest is pretty well behaved so i just take her with me instead of paying a babysitter) and i had managed to get kinda friendly with some of the wives of my husbands coworkers (theyre all members of the same union, so we see each other at those functions every once in awhile). i thought it was all going well and i was having fun and enjoying getting to be social for once, but about 2 weeks ago, the whole family was invited out for lunch (a picnic type thing) with his buddies from work's families. all was going well and for the most part even the kids were having fun, but then my husband got absolutely fucking trashed for no reason. none of the other guys were acting like that, and we've had conversations about him not doing that sort of thing, but he NEVER listens. he's always acting like this, but usually i dont have to see when its in public. well he embarrassed me so fucking much. he was trying to start fights, messing up his clothes, and wouldn't listen to me at all. just in his own world as always. i should've known because its been a decade of this, but i could have sworn it wasn't this bad before. he wasn't like this when we dated you know? so we got home and i was just. grossed out and annoyed. i slept on the couch and pretty much ever since then, i haven't been talking to him. i got a text from one of the ladies saying that a wednesday hangout thing i had been invited to had been canceled, but i pretty much KNOW 100% that it wasn't, and that they just don't want to be associated with me now. the kids don't really seem bothered by the tension around the house (i think its sort of normal to them since hes frequently not around anyways). i wouldn't be near as annoyed if there wasn't a part of my brain telling me "he did it on purpose". i know that's just how he acts but i could SWEAR its almost like he just doesnt want me to have friends. he doesn't want to hear about it, he just wants me THERE at home, watching the kids and existing solely for his convenience. i used to consider divorce, before we had our youngest. but i haven't had a job since high school, and i couldnt put the burden of asking for help on my sisters. they hate him, but i couldnt ask them for that support. and i dont even know what the kids would think, i cant do that to them. but yesterday, my husband brought it up (cornered me in our room pretty much) and asked why i was ignoring him. what if he really didnt know why? i TOLD him, but its like he forgot or just expects me to be "over it" by now. all i wanted was just this one thing, to HAVE FRIENDS, have that time away from being just "mom" and do what i want. he gets to do that so why cant i? or AT LEAST he could put some more effort into being around and doing things as a family? but i still wonder if im being the asshole, for giving him the cold shoulder for this long. he didnt have a happy childhood or good examples for parents so maybe he just thinks this is normal? i never asked because i assumed he knew it wasn't. and he does seem like, disappointed that i wont come to bed. maybe ive been driving him off and that's why he doesnt like to come home? idk at this point, im at a loss. aita?

[rubyvhs]

remedy (iv) — sam winchester

> prev , series masterlist

summary: maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to go back to sam’s place. or maybe it’s a good thing you did — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!fem!reader, cursing, mentioned praying, canon divergence.

There’s a man, a very beautiful one, sure, standing in Sam’s apartment. His eyes are hungry as they glide over you. His… eyes. That seem way too similar to those the man next to you owns yet so different. His are a bright green for one, you’re scared to stare too long in them incase they grow trees. Cliche? Doesn’t matter, it’s the truth, they’re so green.

You can’t hear what’s going on, but him and Sam seem to have a full on conversation with no words. Maybe the other guy won because he takes the step forward as Sam sighs and shuts the apartment door behind you guys. You keep your hand close to your purse and you can feel it vibrate vigorously, you’re sure it’s Jess wanting information on what the fuck you’re doing at Sam’s house— which great question, what are you doing here?

Cause you were thinking talk, eat, make out, not particularly in that order. Now it seems ‘talk to random guy while you try not to have a panic attack’ has been added to the list. Well, too bad, the list is exclusive. “Now who are you?”

Sam says your name through gritted teeth, “this is my brother Dean.” You swallow your fear and nod once. Introducing yourself despite Sam having done it a second before. “What are you doing here, man?” Sam walks away from the door to throw his car keys onto the counter, a few feet away from you, closer to Dean.

“Doesn’t matter now, seems like you’re busy,” and he’s actually smirking. At you. Why is it kind of attractive— no, focus! Focus on your surroundings, and count to ten so you don’t explode. “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of taking him away from you, sweetheart.” Dean says so sweetly that you actually believe it’s for your own benefit, he’s closer now, both hands hovering over your arms but not exactly touching which you’re grateful for. 

You smile tightly and look up at Sam in a silent call for help. “Why are you here, Dean?” He repeats sternly and crosses his arms at his brother. You’ve always noticed how small Sam makes himself when he’s talking to other people, mostly girls, like he doesn’t want to overpower them when he easily could, it helps calm you down, for sure, but when he’s doing it with his brother, it’s different. 

It’s out of love, devotion, trust. And it’s scary to see because you feel like you’re watching a scene that’s not yours to analyze. But he’s letting you. Dean winks at you once before turning around to face Sam. 

“Let’s talk. Privately.” Dean clicks his tongue in the direction of Sam’s room and he agrees, moving over to you again, putting both hands on your shoulder. It has the opposite effect that dean’s had on you. It’s calming— sedating. 

“You stay in my room, I’ll come get you.” And then he steals glances around your whole face, like he’s studying your features, “do you wanna leave? I can drive you home.”

You open your mouth to protest before shutting it again. Does that mean he wants you to leave? Is it an indirect un-invitation? He looks sincere though. “I’m askin’ ‘cause I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. Nothing else.”

You take a breath before shaking your head, then decide to use your voice like the big girl you are— because otherwise you’re a toddler, scared by her fathers side at the mall. “Yeah, I’ll stay in your room. But if you want me to leave, Sam—.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He gives you a half smile but it’s enough to melt your insides. “You can use whatever you want in there, and the Wi-FI’s password is written on the wall.” You all but run into his room and away from the two brothers, shutting the door with a loud slam. 

This is super normal and not at all worrying. You should text your mum in case it’s the last time. Hold that thought— Jessica first. 

As promised, the password is on the door, written in a paper stuck on the back of it. You put it in then text Jess back.

Jess: What is happening!!!!

Jess: What’s happened to ‘never gonna happen’.

Jess: Are you fucking? Don’t tell me.

Jess: Don’t fuck him!!!! He could be not single.

What. The. Hell. 

You: What?

Jess: Thank fuck. You’re not having sex, right? Or did he finish already? Jess: He used to be better at it.

You: What do you mean he’s not single?

Jess: Not saying he isn’t but Gen says he’s been talking to some girls, it’s why she was worried about you going out.

Jess: We don’t know if he’s just friends with these girls or not but she says he’s been texting + going out with Lily.

You: Oh but they’re project partners.

Jess: Yeah they just got assigned today. They’ve been going out alone for a few weeks now.

You: Before or after the party?

Jess: Since before. They didn’t stop after the party either. 

God, you’re going to be sick. Great so he’s dropping off the face of the earth with his brother, but before he does that he’s breaking your heart. ‘Cause why the fuck do one when you can do both? 

And the worst part is you have no reason to be upset about any of this. He doesn’t owe you an explanation about Lily or Dean or whether or not he’s taking the semester off or if he’s staying after graduation— it’s all a lot. You thought this would be the beginning of something. Something worthwhile, and he was having fun, just passing the time.

You enter the bathroom to make sure your makeup is still intact. It isn’t, but you did it up quite quickly and have enough time to snoop around. You can cry over a man when you’re alone in the comfort of your room, not his. Even the room is so perfectly him. There’s pictures almost everywhere and you remember hearing him or Jess mention how much he’s into photography, took after his mother. He’s in only two of the pictures. 

One of them has Dean and an older man you assume is their father. The other is him and Jess, back from when they’re dating— other than that it’s mostly scenery and his friends. There’s even one of Jess and Gen with your best friend laying her head on Gen’s lap. 

You’re about to ruffle through the desk when you hear rustling and a loud groan from one of the boys. Then another and— oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck, are they fighting?

When you’re mother first equipped you for America she had two rules:

Don’t speak to strangers.

Hold rocks in your purse to hit said stranger if they want to fight.

That’s really all, and you’ve held up your end of the deal. But she never really told you what to do when the stranger isn’t a stranger and you’re actually in their house and he’s fighting his brother. 

You peek through the window and— nope, you’re on the third floor. Too far away to jump. Maybe you should try to rummage around here for a cigarette? Yeah, that’s a good idea. You desperately go through drawers without actually going through them— you don’t want to invade his privacy, just find the damn pack you know he has around here— oh, a disposable. Okay, pOtato, potAto.

You take a second to pray that it’s not dead before taking a drag and, thank God, blueberry. Huh, seems like Sam has a preference. Maybe he asked Jess to bring blueberry cigarettes last time, now that would be a turn of events. And it would also mean he lied to you, how are you supposed to feel about that? About the same way you feel about him hanging out with Lily? He never mentioned it. And back at the mall he said ‘I don’t wanna leave you’, what, did he say that to Lily too? Is he trying out to become an anchor? 

You take three more drags before the door is thrown off its hinges and Sam stomps right through it and into his bathroom. Oh. He doesn’t even spare you a glance and you find yourself looking for dean. He’s right there, breathing just as heavily as Sam was, but that didn’t stop him from sending another wink your way, a little slow and lazy.

For the first time in your life, you decide to muster up enough courage to walk over to him, offering his brother’s vape to him. Look at that, your mother did teach you manners.

He shakes his head and takes a step back to lean on the kitchen counter. The support is welcomed by his whole body as he almost collapses into it. “We didn’t scare you, did we?”

Fuck yeah, you’re scared. Who does this dude think he’s talking to? An FBI agent? You’re a college girl studying Med, hearing police sirens while you’re walking at night creep you out.

But you shake your head anyways because, again, manners. “Are you okay?” You ask with genuine concern. You step a little closer to examine the bruise on his head, right below his hairline. 

Does that mean that Sam had a matching one? Should you go help him?

“Sam’s fine.” Oh. That’s good.

“But you’re not. Do you know where he keeps his first aid kit? I can clean it up for you.” Dean adamantly shakes his head, making you frown. Wasn’t he hitting on you minutes ago? Now he doesn’t wanna touch you? “Dean, are you sure? You should really clean that up. It might get infected.” Highly unlikely but it’s not good to keep it unsterile anyways.

“I’m fine,” he grits out, but it’s not as harsh as you expect. He’s just overwhelmed, maybe, or angry. At himself? At Sam? At you for intruding? And then he sighs, takes an incredibly deep breath like it’s taking everything in his soul and mind to say, “‘fine, yeah, you can do it.” As if you offered to blow him or something. Grow up, man, you were just trying to help.

Again, manners. So you keep your polite tone as you ask him again for the first aid kit and he says this is his first time here. Great, you’re both strangers in Sam’s home but at least one of you was invited, Dean.

“You don’t seem to like me very much.” He says quietly as you keep opening and shutting drawers. Sam’s a responsible guy, he must have something lying around. 

“I don’t not like you. I just don’t know you. And Sam is my friend who you just beat up so I’m not exactly fond of you at the moment, no.” Honesty’s great. Yeah, give it right to the man who’s a couple inches taller than you and packing on more muscle than you can imagine yourself having if you workout for ten years straight. Smart ideas all around, really. 

You take another longer drag this time. The buzz is worth it, it’s helping you relax enough that you’re not about to blow your head off about being in Sam’s house with Dean.

Another hit: from both the vape and Dean, “He hit me first.”

“Did you provoke him?” Dean shrugs like a child trying to feign innocence. It’s obvious this is all Dean’s fault and he knows it, you just wish you knew the reason. “Why, though? What happened?”

He hesitates then shuts his mouth closed. Now he chooses to be a good brother?

You find the first aid kit under all the drawers (which, fuck you, Sam, why would you do that?) and ask Dean to sit on one of the chairs. He obeys and you start to take out the rubbing alcohol, “this part will sting a little, so try to hold on to something— not me!” You shriek when his hands land on your waist. 

“Closest thing,” he shrugs like it’s nothing and you take a deep breath, applying more alcohol to the cotton. He can take it.

He doesn’t groan out when you pat the cotton onto the small wound, just hisses. The man hisses like he just got cold coffee spilled on him, the wound isn’t massive or anything, but really? How high is someone’s pain tolerance to be able to do that? 

You don’t want to think about it because tolerance is built. And that’s just… not a fun thing to ponder on. You try to finish as quickly as possible and half way through his hands on your waist don’t bother you anymore, a minute after, he eases them off. Dean doesn’t seem like he wants to cause issues, he’s just… troubled. Though you’re sure he’d deck you twice as hard as he did to Sam if you mention that.

Speaking of the devil, he’s out of the bathroom with fresh clothes but it’s apparent he didn’t shower. Just in his home clothes. Cute considering you’re not which means you’re overdressed between the three of you. You finish Dean up and place a bandage on the bruise. “There!” 

You smile as you examine your work and move back. Your first ever patient! It’s exciting to think you did so well without any guidance even when your hand was shaking the whole time. “Thanks, angel, where’d you learn that?”

“Angel?”

“She’s in Med. What are you still doing here, Dean?” Sam’s voice is rough, like he’s been shouting. Were they yelling? How did you not hear them? 

Oh, the buzz. Would giving Sam the Dispo now be rude? Come to think of it, taking it was rude. Oh, God, is this what stealing feels like?

“Hey,” Sam calls your name and you snap out of it, whipping your head back to face him. “You okay?” He’s wearing a black shirt. Just plain black, which is tight in all the right places, and grey sweatpants. Grey sweatpants. Who on this earth sold this man grey sweatpants? What were they thinking? They weren’t obviously, but you are. You can see it clearly now: College Girls Drop Dead At The Hand Of A Sam Winchester. Reason Of Death: The Sweatpants. 

“You okay?” Why is he asking again? Were you staring? 

“I’m fine. Are you?” You walk away from Dean and his magnetic hold on you to check Sam out. Last time you touched him was— never. He’s always touched you first. So… here goes nothing. You had your hands up for a second, asking for permission, consent, whatever, and his gaze switches from your eyes to your lips then back again so you take it as a yes and move his hair from his face. 

There are no injuries, you’re sure of it, but maybe you should run your hands through his hair just in case. For his safety. You drop your hands like it’s on fire before you actually do it and smile up at him. “Good, you’re okay.” He nods and looks past you, probably at Dean and you sigh. Okay. Night ruined.

“Okay, so, I’m gonna go and I’ll see you—” Sam furrows his eyes brows and shakes his head placing his hands on your shoulders. Again.

“No, no, you said you stay. We agreed to it.”

“Right, but that was before I knew your brother was staying over—”

“He’s not. You can still take Gen’s room. Don’t worry. He’s just leaving, right, Dean?” He bites out and your eyes widen. 

“No, no, Sam, seriously, not a big deal—”

“Do you wanna leave?” How is that relevant! You don’t, honestly. After hearing what Jess had to say about Sam and now Dean’s beat up face, Sam wanting to leave, it’s a lot to process. And you were fine with processing it next to Sam as long as you guys could talk about it but he seems on edge now, erratic, you don’t want to mess with him, or stay in a house alone with him when he’s like this. 

He doesn’t seem like he’ll hurt you, infact, his face softens the second he looks at you, but you can’t risk it. “Sam, it’s not that I don’t want to…” He raises his eyebrows for a second before scoffing letting go of you. “It’s not… it just seems like there’s a lot for you right now, I don’t want to get in the middle of that.”

“I want you in the middle of it.” Is someone escorting Dean out or will you have to confess your feelings in the middle of the crowded kitchen/living room? “But if you want to leave then I’ll drive you, it’s fine. I just need you to know that I want you to stay.”

And with those eyes? Those eyes and that hair falling over those eyes? How can you say no? You let out a shaky breath before throwing yourself into his chest and he easily wraps his arms around you. This is probably the second time you’ve hugged ever, but it’s worth every second because Sam’s so much taller than you in a way that’s comforting beyond belief. Not just because he tries to make himself smaller, but because he carries himself that way too. Small equals ‘there for you’ and ‘your wall’. And he kind of is. His arms are solid against you back and you feel a strand of your hair get caught in between his fingers. 

It doesn’t take a few seconds for you to pull away— both out of respect for Dean and because you don’t want to overdo it with Sam. “I’ll stay. In Gen’s room.” He nods like it’s the end of it but you add, “If you promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t kick me out.” He frowns. You take out the vape from your back pocket, “I found it in your drawer. Sorry.” He smiles and leans down to your ears, “what’s mine’s yours, sweetheart.” He’s saying it to be kind, whatever, but it still makes your heart flutter to hear. 

He points to the room behind his, the only other door in the apartment, says it’s Gen’s room and that the sheets are clean. Which translates to: ‘go inside and I’ll get rid of Dean’.

True to his unspoken words, Dean is gone in less than fifteen minutes and you’re kind of disappointed you didn’t say goodbye. Sam comes into the room to find you on the bed, vape in one hand, phone in the other, texting.

“What’re you doing?” He shuts the door behind him and your eyes skim your surroundings. Alone in a room with Sam. 

“Texting. Jess. She’s been worried the whole night and I didn’t want her to freak out.”

“Oh, why’d she be freaked?” Fuck your brain and your oversharing tendencies and fuck you Sam for being obversant.

“Just— you know—”

“I don’t.” Well, duh, or else you wouldn’t ask, but the answer isn’t one you’re willing to give so you shrug and lean into the bed further, still above the sheets. You can’t believe you’re sleeping in jeans just to stay over at Sam’s. The things you do on low sleep, man. “Are you comfortable?” At least he isn’t a dick that insists on your answer.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just, you’re wearing jeans.” 

“That’s what I came with, yes.”

“Do you wanna change? I can get you something else to wear? Besides, aren't you cold?” He’s right, the only thing that was keeping you warm was the green jacket you had on which was discarded on the chair, leaving you in a tank top. You’re cold, sure, a little uncomfortable, maybe, but enough to take Sam’s clothes… yes, you’d take them even if you weren’t freezing your ass off.

“What do you have?” You smile a little before he points to Gen’s closet and oh. Right. The other girl that lives here. “Sam, no it’s fine, I don’t want to intrude on Gen.” Rummaging through Sam’s thing while he’s in the room next to you is fine, using Gen’s clothes while she’s in another house? Not respectful. 

“She wouldn’t mind—”

“Honestly, I’m not that cold.”

“You’re shivering.” Not to sound like a three year old or anything but someone could practically blow on you and you’d shiver. It's not that serious. But when you tell him that he shakes his head and walks out of the door. Is he pissed off? Like actually genuinely pissed off? Should you look through Gen’s closet for something to wear so he’d be okay? That seems wrong but… it’s his house, his rules.

You’re still heavily overthinking it by the time he comes back and you let out a breath of pure relief. He can’t be that mad if he’s back. And he’s handing you clothes. “Here, mine. So your moral obligations can rest.” You smile and shake your head, getting out of the bed. His hand’s extended so you take it anyways.

“Sam, I’m fine like this—”

“I’m not letting you sleep in jeans, and you can’t convince me to.” You notice his dimples for the first time. Sam is all smiles whenever he’s around people, but you’ve never actually noticed his dimples before, and they’re just as perfect as the rest of him that you’re jealous. And in love, just a little. 

“Sam,” you call out as he turns to walk out. He knows what’s coming. You know what’s coming. Your sister knows what’s coming (you found time to fill her in). “What happened with Dean out there? I thought you said he’d want you to leave. Didn’t you want to go with him?”

His shoulders deflate and he turns around. “It’s nothing, just got rough.”

“Meaning? Come on, he was the whole reason we went out tonight then you find him at your house and you’re not freaked? Tell me what happened.” Pushy is one word to call what you’re doing. Another is fucking annoying. You won’t even say the third.

“Dean’s— Dad. Our Dad is… he’s gone or he’s hiding or something and Dean wants me to look for him.” His dad is lost… as an exterminator? Okay… 

“Why aren’t you guys freaked out?”

“Because he’s usually just takin’ a break from Dean or something but Dean says he’s sure that he’s actually gone missing—”

“Then call the police.” You say obviously and Sam purses his lips. He’s not irritated, but he looks like he doesn’t want to explain the situation to you so you back off. “I’m going to change.” You say as you head for the bathroom door, “but look, Sam, talk to me, okay? If you want. Or Lily or Jess but talk—”

“Lily?” He interrupts with a scowl, a hand coming up to tame his slightly messed up hair. 

“Yeah, you know, your friends.”

“Me and Lily aren’t like… friends friends.”

“I don’t know, people say otherwise,” okay now he’s irritated, “but anyways, none of my business obviously, I’m going to change.”

“Hey, stop doing that. Stop avoiding something the second you say it! Why would you bring up Lily?”

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth and shrug, the clothes suddenly feeling twenty kilograms heavier in your hand. “Jess said you guys have been going out for a while now. Which, you know, I don’t know how she’d feel about me staying over—”

“I told you she’s my presentation partner.” His voice isn’t raised, just seems like he’s trying to understand where you’re coming from and you sound like you don’t want to be having this conversation. Because you don’t. 

“Yeah, but Jess said you’ve been hanging out even before Lily’s birthday party and I just didn’t want to assume or anything, I guess.” He steps closer to you and you contemplate taking a step back but he’s already close enough to touch you now. He takes the clothes in your hands and placed them on the chair next to him. “Sam, it’s fine, obviously, I just don’t want her to be mad.”

“I’m not with Lily, and we’re not dating or anything. We study together sometimes, we’re friends and she’s cool but we’re just that. Friends.” You nod and take a step back to help you breathe better, “I’m not just saying that. We are.”

“You don’t have to convince me of anything, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t want you thinking that I like anyone that way,” he says the last word as he moves towards you. You’re trapped between his body and the bathroom door behind you. 

“Like a relationship?” He nods and you consider asking if he thinks of you like that but you couldn’t handle the rejection if you tried. 

You turn the knob around and slam the fucking door in Sam’s face. 

part five; smear the innocence of my lips.

title: beautiful boy by esha tewari

main masterlist

have no idea how I finished this in one sitting. 4k worlds in one sitting is my new record. hope you guys liked this one, I like where it’s going right now but I’m racking my brain for an ending soon if you have ideas tell me.

and if you wanna be tagged for future chapters, comment!

Tag list:

@angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats 

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403 @wattpaduser200 @s0urw00lf @ashlynyyyyy

@strabarrybat @anu-piyakya97

[library-ghoulette]

Now There Is Nothing Between Us

Pairing: Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tags: second person POV, established relationship, VHS and chill, their first time, my kink is being loved and wanted, crying, reference to past heartbreak, hurt/comfort, discussion of sexual fantasies, pillow princess!Reader, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, p in v sex, coming inside (please fuck responsibly), Copia being tender, Copia fucking the self-doubt right out of you

Words: 2435

Summary: Anxieties about your first time with Copia rear their head at the worst possible moment, but luckily he knows just how to ease your fears.

A/N: I wrote this because I was stressing out about writing sex scenes for the first time in a long time, and I thought it might help to have my favorite Papa sweetly talk me through it. This was supposed to just be for me, but I'm sharing it for anyone else who needs a therapy session with their smut.

ao3 link

divider by @gothdaddyissues

“Amore mio, what’s wrong?”

The question takes you by surprise. You were mid-kiss when Copia pulled back, his mismatched eyes searching yours with concern.

“N-nothing’s wrong,” you stammer, reaching for him again, eager to pull him back in, keep his mouth occupied, so he can ask no more questions.

But he stubbornly avoids your advances, catching your hands in his and holding them between the two of you, restrained. He settles onto the pillow beside you, face-to-face.

“You think I know you so little that you can lie to me?” he asks. “That I can’t feel it when you’re all stiff?”

He pulls his shoulders up and grimaces in a comically horrified expression that makes you smile in spite of yourself, but still you say nothing, merely look down at where he holds your hands clasped in his much larger, much stronger, ones. He runs a reassuring thumb over your knuckles.

It was supposed to be a special night. At long last, it was supposed to be the night.

The two of you had gone from stealing glances at one another in the halls of the Abbey, to sharing friendly movie nights where you sat on opposite sides of the couch, both too timid to make a move, to significantly friendlier movie nights that devolved into heated kisses long before the end credits even rolled.

Each night, there would come a moment where the kiss would break, when a heavy pause descended and there came an unspoken question that you knew you had to answer.

Every night before, the answer has been no. You would remark on the lateness of the hour and go back to your own room. And there you lay awake, burning with thoughts of all of the things you could have done if only you had stayed. All the places where Copia could kiss you, could touch you, as you touched yourself.

But not tonight. This time, when that silent question made itself known, the answer had been yes. You had stayed, followed Copia to his bed, let him lay you down with a gentleness that spoke of brutal desire barely contained. Pressed yourself against him, returned his kisses, helped him shrug out of his sweatshirt and pulled his T-shirt over his head with obvious eagerness. You had thought that you were doing well, doing it right.

Apparently, you had been wrong.

Great. Now you’re on the verge of tears. Very sexy. Definitely not a surefire way to spoil the mood.

Copia is still looking at you, his unpainted face soft, searching, utterly open. You don’t deserve his attentiveness, his care. It makes you want to hide.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He kisses your knuckles. “You are maybe having second thoughts?”

“No! No, I– I really want to do this.”

“But something is bothering you. And we’re not doing anything until you tell me what that is. Until we fix it.”

Why does he have to be like this? Why can’t he just let it go? 

“Tesoro, you can tell me anything. You know this.”

Copia has never given you a reason to distrust him, has never judged you or made you feel silly for any of your anxieties. Still, you struggle to put this into words. 

“I don’t know. I’m just a little nervous, I guess?”

I sound so dumb.

“It’s okay to be nervous! Is this…”--he casts about for a tactful phrasing–”your first time?”

Satanas, it just gets worse and worse.

“No, it’s not my first time. But it’s been… awhile.”

“What’s the saying? Something about riding a bicycle?”

But in truth, it’s more than just the fact that it’s been awhile. Things did not end well with the last person you chose to share yourself with. 

You’ve worked so hard to heal from that relationship, not reinventing yourself so much as peeling back layers of hurt, finding yourself again bit by bit. You’re better now. But even after all of that healing, after finding your place here with the Ministry, after the wonderful surprise of falling for Copia, the scars of the past have a way of lingering.

Maybe the deepest of those scars is the lingering suspicion that no matter what you do, no one will ever truly want you or love you again. And worse, that you can’t trust anyone who claims that they do.

“It’s just.. I’ve imagined this so many times, and I guess I’ve gotten a bit too in my head about it. Wanting it to be perfect. And I’m afraid of doing something wrong. Of not”--and here’s the heart of it, the scary, vulnerable thing that you don’t want to admit–“of not being good enough for you.”

And now you are crying, when all you wanted to do was fuck your boyfriend like a normal person.

“Oh, topina.” Copia pulls you close, rolling onto his back to nestle you snug against his chest. “How could you ever think that you’re not good enough?”

“But you could have anyone you want,” you sob.

“You flatter me,” Copia chuckles. “But say that is true. I can have anyone I want. And where am I right now?”

“Here?”

“Yes, here. And who am I with?”

You sniffle. “Me?”

“Yes, you. And there is no one else I would rather be with. You are so precious to me. I feel lucky to have you in my bed.”

Your heart flutters at his tender words.

“And what I want, more than anything, is to make you feel good. To give you the pleasure that you deserve.”

Something considerably lower flutters at that.

“Copia…” 

You wriggle out of his grasp and pull yourself up onto one elbow, one hand resting lightly on his chest as you bend to kiss him again. 

When you break away, he thumbs a stray tear from your cheek and insists, “But I only want to do that if you’re comfortable. So you have to tell me if something makes you uncomfortable, yes?”

You nod down at him. “Yes, Papa.”

He groans low in his throat at your cheeky use of his title, the sound stoking something low in your belly.

“You said that you have been thinking about this night for a long time, tesoro?” 

His hand, resting against your hip, grips you tighter, drawing you closer against him. When he speaks, his words resonate with a note of command. 

“Tell me what you’ve imagined. Tell me how to make this perfect for you.”

This should be mortifying. It should, more than anything else he’s said tonight, activate your urge to run away, to hide. It’s been so long since you’ve really given yourself permission to want, to desire, much less to voice those desires full-throated, absent of shame. You’re so afraid of sounding silly. Of being too much.

But you can tell how turned on he is by you, by the way that your body feels pressed against his, fuck, by the very thought of you entertaining filthy daydreams about him. He wants you. Just as much as you want him.

And so, you push past the shame you have no need to carry any longer, that you never should have been made to carry at all.

Even if you stammer at first. Even if you don’t sound as confident as you wish you did. You find your voice.

“I– I’ve thought about you touching me?”

Copia brings a hand up to caress your face, tracing a feather-light line from cheekbone to chin. “Here?” he asks.

“Lower,” you reply.

“Ah.” His hand trails lower, making you shiver as his fingers skirt along your neck, your collarbone, before finally cupping your breast through your top. “How about here?”

Your mouth falls open in a gasp when he squeezes gently, his thumb sweeping across your nipple. Almost as an afterthought he wedges one thigh between your legs. Even through fabric the contact sends a pulse straight to your core, and you can’t help but grind against him with a whimper.

“What do I do next? In your fantasies?”

“You take off my clothes.” You’re desperate to feel his skin on yours. “And– and you lay me down on the bed.”

He flips you over effortlessly and takes his time undressing you, carefully undoing each button and zipper, revealing your body bit by bit with utmost tenderness. When he hooks his fingers over the waistband of your panties and pulls the silky fabric down your hips, your legs, exposing you completely, he does so with what could never be mistaken for anything but reverence.

Your legs fall open naturally and Copia kneels between them, resting his hands on your thighs, awaiting instruction.

“And now?”

You know that you can have anything you want, but only if you ask for it.

It’s everything you can do to keep your voice steady when you say, barely above a whisper, “And then you go down on me.”

“With pleasure, amore.”

Copia settles himself between your thighs and presses a hand against your mound, firm and grounding, acclimating you to his touch before spreading your lips with skilled fingers and bringing his mouth down to meet your slit. He runs the flat of his tongue up through your slick folds, lapping up your arousal. When you look down at him, he meets your gaze and flicks his tongue over your clit, smirking when you blush and cry out in pleasure.

And then he begins his work in earnest.

You had imagined that it would be good, but your daydreams left you unprepared for this level of skill, for how he would relax into the task before him with a patient eagerness, savoring you, taking the time to bring you ever closer to your peak. 

“Fingers,” you beg, barely coherent, “I need your fingers, please, please, Copia– oh!”

He finds your entrance and presses a finger inside of you, never losing the rhythm of his tongue tracing tight circles around your clit. You’re soaked, and it slides in and out with ease, and it feels so good to have any part of him inside of you, even before he pulls out and then presses back in with another digit, crooking his fingers up to find that spot deep inside of you, hitting it just so as he sucks your nub between his lips, and you’re crying out and twisting your fingers in his hair to pull him closer, and–

Your orgasm overtakes you ruthlessly, wave upon wave of pleasure breaking over you, leaving you a gasping, trembling mess in its wake. Copia crawls up your body to kiss you, letting you taste your own musky sweetness on his tongue.

“Do you want to hear what I’ve been thinking about?” he asks.

You’re unsure of your ability to speak, but you nod eagerly. You’ve never wanted to hear anything more.

“I’ve been thinking about your hands.”

“M-my hands?”

“Sì, your beautiful hands. And how good they would feel wrapped around me.”

How could you do anything in that moment but oblige, reaching down to free him from the confines of his red sweatpants. His cock springs free, what seems almost painfully hard, and you watch with satisfaction as you pump your fist up and down his thick length and pleasure nearly overtakes him. Eyes squeezed shut, he’s clearly struggling to hold back, to stop himself from rutting into your soft palm and coming right now. 

“I’ve also been thinking about your pussy, dolcezza,” he pants. “How good it would taste. How pretty you would look playing with it for me. But mostly what it would feel like to spread it open and fuck it until you come around my cock.”

“Yes, please,” you beg, feeling as though you might die if you don’t get to feel him inside you right now.

The stretch is deliciously intense, even as wet as you are, prepared by his fingers and his tongue. He works himself into you inch by careful, patient inch, until he bottoms out with a groan.

“Is this okay?” he asks, and you nod your assent, whimpering a “yes” as you wrap your legs around his soft waist, urging him on.

You open more and more with each slow, shallow thrust that becomes faster, deeper. There is no room for your self-doubt anymore, no thought to spare for anything that isn’t Copia: his weight on top of you, his mouth against the side of your neck, the scent of his cologne mingling with the salty tang of sweat, the overwhelming pressure of his cock inside of you. 

He murmurs your name with what sounds like wonder, like disbelief that you want this and that you feel so fucking good.

And then he rolls his hips just so, finding an angle that grinds his pelvis into your clit, making you cry out sharply.

“Just like that,” you beg him, breathless, “please don’t stop, please—“

And then you are coming apart again, your head thrown back and your pussy spasming beyond your control.

It’s almost too much for him. He rears back from you, gathering you more firmly in hand, tilting your hips up and gripping your ass to hold you in place as he fucks into you, hard and rough. You’re still reeling from your orgasm as his pace becomes erratic, desperate, and with a sharp snap of his hips his cock kicks inside of you, filling you utterly.

He pulls out and collapses beside you with a sated groan, forearm thrown over his eyes as he comes down, chest heaving, spent cock softening against the curve of his belly. You fold yourself in under his arm, head pillowed against his chest again in a semblance of how you lay earlier as you cried. But now all you feel is love, comfort, and the pleasant soreness creeping through your lower body.

“Well, tesoro…” He settles his arm around you, tracing lazy circles on your skin with the tip of his finger. His voice is unspeakably fond when he asks, “Was that everything you imagined?”

It wasn’t, of course. Your daydreams hadn’t started with you crying awkwardly in his arms. In your daydreams, everything had run as smoothly as a scene in a novel, you the assertive heroine who always knew exactly what to say, without any help.

But maybe, you think, if Copia is the one helping you, that’s okay. Maybe you don’t need to be anyone but yourself, sometimes awkward and insecure, but no less beloved.

And so you are telling the truth when you say, “No. It was better.”

[hearts4jiheon]

౨ৎ 1. restraining orders (half written)

tw: not proofread (changed some stuff last minute too)

You had just released your 1st mini album and it was breaking records in seconds it hasn’t been a week since it was released and you’ve managed to get over 1 million sales, which is impressive for a rookie like you.

It was a Saturday night and you and your friends decided to head out to celebrate your mini album’s success. You’ve decided to meet up at a local restaurant and order a private room.

6PM SATURDAY

It was now 6PM and you’re all together at the restaurant. “Wooo~ our girlie really broke records” Heejin cheered as she popped a bottled of wine.

“We ordered your favourite wine” she added as you perked your lips into a big smile.

“YEAHHH WE’RE GONNA GET WINE DRUNK!!” you cheered excitedly.

“Maybe not too drunk” Wonyoung chime in, “you’re so boring Wonyoung-ah” you frowned.

A scoff was then heard from Wonyoung’s lips, “are we not going to forget the last time you all got drunk!? I had to DRAG you out of the restaurant. It was certainly NOT fun.”

“Wel—“ before heejin could even spoke wonyoung cut her off.

“HEEJIN. YOU LITERALLY MADE OUT WITH A POLE?? Thank God Yunjin stopped you before you banged your HEAD against it.” the ive member continued.

“Hey speaking of Yunjin I wonder how she’s doing, it’s been a while I missed her..” you said, changing the topic.

As the other girls were talking you glanced at your right, your eyes landed on a familiar figure.

“YIZHUO!!” you yelled, waving at the girl.

Yizhuo perked up surprised, worried that she’d been found out to the public. She turns around and her worried eyes rapidly changed to a happy expression.

“Hey girlies!!” she said taking a seat

“Oh yeah Y/n! Me and the girls listened to your album! It was amazing, Aeri couldn’t stop listening to<< I Only Want To Be With You >>!” she said as she sat down.

“Giselle Aeri?” Wonyoung raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Giselle Aeri”

“Like Uchinaga Aeri??” Hanni asked.

“Yes….?”

“I never thought she would listen to that kind of music..” Wonyoung said.

“Oh trust me she does..” Ning chuckled.

“Okay can we start drinking the wine now.” you said literally drooling at the bottle of wine at this point.

Wonyoung sighed, “don’t drink too mu—“

“WINE??” Ning smirked.

“Oh god..”

“LETS GET WINE DRUNK GIRLIES~” Heejin said enthusiastically.

“God save me.” wonyoung sighed.

1AM SUNDAY

“And she said don’t get too drunk” heejin said looking at wonyoung passed out on the restaurant couch.

“coughhypocritecough” Hanni fake coughed

“Hanni aren’t you underage drinking” heejin said

“IM 19???” the Newjeans member frowned

“Close enough!”

suddenly hanni’s phone started ringing, as soon as she picked it up you could hear someone yelling on the other line.

“HANNI WHERE ARE YOU?? ITS 1 IN THE MORNING”

Hanni gulps, “oh. uhm. Minji unnie ahahahahaha!”

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re drunk.”

“Well no—“

“Get your ass back here or I’m pulling out the tracker”

“TRACKER???” Heejin coughed.

“and you said she’s the one that’s gonna get a restraining order against me…” Hanni mumbled

“What’s that you said?”

“UHM NOTHING UNNIE! I’LL BE THERE IN 15 MINUTES.” Hanni said, as she gathering all her stuff.

“Good or I’m taking your midnight snack privileges again”

“NOO NOT MY MIDNIGHT SNACKS—“ she perked up, “okay girlies I gotta go love you stay safe thanks for the food!!—” she slurred her words as she ran out of the restaurant.

“I need new friends.” Heejin said.

She turned over too see Wonyoung and you passed out on the couch, “Yizhuo can you help me with taking one of them home.. I don’t think I can handle the both of them… again.” she said to Ningning.

“I’ll take yn I’m not sure where Wonyoung lives…” she said.

“Oh thank goodness, good luck with her Yizhuo-ah.. and thank you again” Heejin sighed relieved.

“Af course, af course.”

“I’ll go take her home.. it was nice seeing you again Yizhuo!” Heejin said as she put her arm over Wonyoung’s shoulder.

“You too! Stay safe yeah!”

“Of course, you too!”

1.20AM SUNDAY

“Minjeong over here!” Ningning waved as she had Yn leaned on her shoulder.

“Did you kill someone” Winter said as she gazed at Yn.

“What?? No!! She’s just drunk.” Yizhuo gave Minjeong an unamused expression, “wait shit I think I forgot my mirror inside— hold her”.

“…”

“What.”

“Hold her!” Yizhuo said.

“Fine.” Winter said as she held onto Yn.

“Okay I’ll be right back!” Yizhuo said running back to the restaurant.

“Who even is this..” Winter thought to herself. She decided to take a peak and pushed the girl’s hair behind her ear…

“Wait.” she said realising who she was holding right now.

“HER!?” she yelled, flabbergasted.

⊹₊⟡ masterlist . next

TAGLIST (OPEN)

[miley1442111]

burnt- s.adamu

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two different sydney requests:

i got so excited seeing syd in the new trailer for the bear s3 😭 need something with reader x sydney bc i can’t wait until june 27!! anything you can think of possibly based on some stuff hinted in the trailer would be great :) thank you so much!!

requesting sydney x reader! feel like it’s been so long since ive seen any content with her, especially because we were robbed of even a glimpse of her in that new teaser they released the other day 😭

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a/n: i hope you both enjoy! thank you for requesting!

summary: your girlfriend doesn't take it too well when she finds out you kept your injury from her.

pairing: sydney adamu x fem! berzatto! reader

warnings: reader gets hurt, burned hand, i think that's it?

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Baste, pour, flip, repeat. Baste, pour, flip, repeat. Baste, pour, flip, repeat. God, did Carmen need to yell so loud? 

You looked up for a split second, not even- just a fraction of a half-second, and you felt the burn of the boiling duck fat begin to sear your skin. It bubbled the skin on your left hand, leaving it exposed to the heat of the room and making it so much worse.  

“Fuck!” you shouted, pulling your hand away from the hot stove and turning it off. You held your hand close to your chest with a pain expression as all eyes handed on you. 

“W-what, what happened?” Carmen asked, running over. 

“Fuck you,” you said through gritted teeth. “Why do you fucking shout so loud?” You asked your brother. He rolled his eyes and pulled you to the other side of the kitchen and looked down at your hand. 

“Oh fuck,” Richie mumbled, joining the huddle you and Carm had made. “You’re going to have to go to the emergency room for that one.”

“No fucking shit jagoff,” you seethed. “I’ll grab my shit and drive myself. Get back to service Carm.”

He stared at you for a second. “You sure?”

“I’m fine,” you nodded and he obliged, pressing a quick kiss to your temple like he used to when you were kids. 

---------------------------

The drive to the ER was agony. Every movement of your hand was like a thousand needles being pushed into the skin and the ice pack Carm had given you wasn’t helping.  

You debated calling Syd, but this was her one night off to spend with her dad. You didn’t want to bother her, and you sure as hell didn’t want her to wait with you in the packed ER for the next 3 hours. You decided to just stare at your phone screen and scroll instagram until you were called in. 

Ring, ring, ring. 

Sydney’s contact jumped up on the screen and your senses were immediately heightened. Had Carm told her? How did she know? Maybe she didn’t know… maybe she was just calling to say that she was going to stay with her dad for the night and that she wouldn’t be home, you didn’t know.

“You got burnt?!” she questioned, concern filling her voice. 

“Who told you that?” you asked. 

“Who do you think? Carm! Why wasn’t it you who told me?” 

“You’re supposed to be with your dad tonight, I didn’t want to be a bother,” you shrugged, hearing your name being called. “Anyways, I have to go I’m being called in, love you-”

“We need to talk about this-” 

Beep beep beep. 

You hung up. 

---------------------------

After a painful 30 minute talk with a doctor, she told you that you’d be fine in 4 weeks. She bandaged you up and gave you an antibiotic, in case it became infected. Waiting for you outside was Sydney, with a very mad look on her face. 

“You should’ve called me,” she sighed, taking your not-injured hand. 

“I didn’t want to ruin the one night you had off,” you shrugged, walking out to your car with her beside you. “Plus, it’s not like it’s the first or last time I’ve been burnt, right?”

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Maybe?” you chuckled. “Look, I’m fine! They bandaged me up and I have antibiotics in case it gets infected, plus I can hold this over Carmy’s head until either of us does something worse.”

“It might get infected?” she questioned and you rolled your eyes. 

“Only if I get lazy with changing the bandage,” you sassed back. 

“Oh, so you’ll get an infection then, great!” She sighed, getting into the driver’s seat. 

“Syd, stop being mean, I’ve been through enough tonight,” you deflated. “Let’s just go home.”

Sydney started the car, driving out of the hospital with your hand in hers.

“I’m sorry, I just worry sometimes…” she muttered. 

“It’s alright,” you nodded, then brought her hand up to your mouth, where you kissed it.

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the bear masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 — 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈

Yandere Dick Grayson x GN Reader

❥ Part I >> Part II >> Part III >> Part IV

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓: Wanted to write a platonic older brother Dick Grayson story, but depicting his spiral into yandere-hood. Tumblr can’t handle my swag AO3-length writing, so multiple parts it is!

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒: platonic sibling yandere content, older brother Dick Grayson, younger sibling reader, non-vigilante reader, adopted reader, slow burn yandere(?), the pacing is very a-day-in-the-life-esque, kind-of stalking, unsettling build-up, Dick isn’t a full-blown yandere yet, starting off tame, biblically accurate Batfam, CLIFF HANGER!!

❥ 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃.

Richard Grayson didn’t really like you.

He never told you outright, but you knew. It was painfully obvious during your initial meeting (one that was “long overdue,” according to Bruce), back when Alfred dropped you off at his Blüdhaven apartment with all your belongings. Though he offered a welcoming smile with complimentary dimples, something dark swirled in his sapphire eyes, a stony cold stare contrasting with his warm greeting of, “nice to finally meet you, (Y/N).”

You didn’t know that much about Richard Grayson, other than his role as your pseudo older brother (and the fact that he was Robin, and now Nightwing, but you were still wrapping your head around the idea of your filthy rich adoptive father being fucking Batman, so… there’s not much you could say on that). He seemed friendly enough in all the gala interviews you’ve seen, but you were starting to realize to not take someone’s press persona as gospel: after all, Bruce Wayne seems much more put together in front of the cameras than he does in the manor. So, while unsettling, you couldn’t say you were too surprised by this official first impression.

Maybe he was just tired, you told yourself. He probably doesn’t get much sleep, with the whole crime-fighting thing and all.

(Yeah… crime-fighting thing… y’know, cuz your pseudo older brother is Nightwing, and your filthy rich adoptive father is fucking Batman.)

However, after getting all your things settled into his spare bedroom — Alfred being a big help, as he always was — you were getting the sense that your gut intuition was right; Richard Grayson didn’t really like you at all. He may have acted all cordial, giving you a tour of his apartment and making polite jokes, but as soon as Alfred left and he excused himself to make a phone call in his room, his true feelings on your collective predicament became painfully apparent, as thin walls did nothing to hold in his heated argument with Bruce.

“B, why the hell are you doing this to me?! ……. No, they’re in their room. Getting all their stuff settled in right now. ……. I know I did, but now that they’re here, I just—!! ……. No, they’ve been okay so far, it’s just— come on, B, I know you’re an empty-nester, but if you weren’t ready to take in a kid, why’d you—?! ……. Really? So adopting orphans is just a hobby now?! ……. Yeah, and it’s really unfortunate what they’ve gone through, but you can’t just pick up every stray you see, especially if you’re this fucking paranoid about them wanting to—”

This was the only time you could understand Bruce’s response over the phone; “I DON’T WANT ANOTHER DEAD CHILD, DICK.”

… Ah.

There was a beat of silence before Bruce continued, though his softer tone made it impossible to make out what he was saying. He went on and on until Dick sighed. “Bruce, I want them to have a happy home. And, yeah, I sure as hell agree that the manor might not be the best choice, but I’m off doing my own thing just as much as you are. At the very least, Alfred— ……. What would’ve been good for both of you was to not sign the papers in the first place. You’re still healing, and they need someone who can be there for them. ……. No. No, they’re already here. I’ll stay true to my word, B, but they can’t stay here forever; you know that. It’s just not healthy for all of us. ……. Yeah, I know. I’ll do my best. Look, I gotta figure out what I’m gonna make this kid for dinner.”

And then, without a single goodbye exchanged, the call went dead.

So, yeah. Richard Grayson didn’t really like you.

Which was fine. Really, it was. You weren’t even his sibling by law, as you learned from Alfred that Bruce technically never even adopted him, yet here he was being asked to take care of you, a reminder that he can’t escape Bruce Wayne or Batman no matter how hard he tries. While you were still learning the full situation (again, your filthy rich adoptive father is fucking BATMAN), what you already knew didn’t paint a pretty picture. Honestly, you didn’t blame Richard Grayson for being a little spiteful towards you. It did make sense.

You just wish it didn’t make you feel so… unwanted.

“How was school, kiddo?”

A questioning hum was startled from your vocal chords. The car ride had been so silent, you found yourself lost in your own thoughts, almost forgetting that you were buckled into the passenger seat of Richard’s — Dick’s, rather; he told you to call him Dick the day you moved in — older, copper-colored car. After taking a few moments to collect yourself, you threw your temporary guardian a glance only to find he was pointedly staring at you (which was concerning, as he was driving).

“Uh…” your voice faltered a bit, forcing you to cough in your fist. “It was alright.”

His eyes lingered on you for a bit longer before returning to the road ahead. You thought that was the end of the conversation, but then he spoke up again. “Did you learn anything?”

A bit of an awkward thing to ask, but at least he was trying. “Factoring in algebra. And I guess a little about the Mongol Empire.”

“Factoring,” he said with distaste. “Wasn’t a fan of that. Though it didn’t really help that I had the worst algebra teacher. Ended up with a 70 in that class by some miracle.” A small beat of silence. “Do anything fun with friends?”

You grimaced. Though you tried your best not let it show, you knew Dick probably caught it through the rear-view mirror. “I, uh, haven’t made any friends yet.”

“It’s already October,” he skeptically stated with a quirked brow.

“I know. It’s just…” you clutched your book bag closer to your chest. “It was my first day here, so… gotta make new friends.”

“… Oh.”

As much as you wanted to dryly chortle at his reaction, you refrained. It probably wasn’t his fault he didn’t know about being transferred from Gotham to Blüdhaven Academy, since Bruce apparently had a habit of keeping people out of the loop with things. For all you know, Dear Ol’ Daddy Bats just gave Dick an address and said, "drop off at 9, pick up at 3:30," leaving your pseudo-older brother to fill in the blanks from there (“this is an address to a school, so I’m assuming this is where they go to school,” or something like that).

So, all you could do was shrug. “Yeah.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his jaw tighten. He seemed to be deliberating on something, eyes burning holes through his windshield as he let out a sigh. “So, guessing you have no one to stay with for the night?”

“Stay with?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean, stay with?”

“Well, I’m gonna be out tonight,” he explained, his tone sounded a bit exasperated. “Can’t just leave you on your own. Do any friends from your old school live near by?”

You were at a loss for words. He wanted you to stay with someone? For the entire night? “Wait, hold on… you just wanna dump me at a friend’s house anytime you do your hero shit—?”

“Not sure if you’ve noticed, kiddo, but we’re in Blüdhaven,” he spat at you. “And my apartment isn’t exactly in the nicest part of town.”

“But— it’ll be fine, ‘cuz you have a Bat-level security system,” you protested.

His grip got tighter on the steering wheel. “Doesn’t matter. You’re used to the manor, not street-level crime, kid.”

“I grew up in Gotham,” you retorted. “I’ve known street-level crime way longer than I’ve known the manor.” Before he could say something to that, you beat him to it by following up with, “and besides, all my friends from Gotham live in areas that are just as bad as your apartment. Wasn’t all that popular with the socialite kids with mansions, you know.”

No response for several seconds. Dick’s expression was far from pleasant, and you were starting to worry if you were getting yourself into some sort of trouble. Eventually, however, he let out a frustrated sigh, his cold eyes snapping towards your figure. “You make one hell of an argument, kiddo. But listen. We’ve gotta go over home-alone rules when we’re back to the apartment, alright? I don’t want anything happening to you under my watch.”

“Fine by me,” you shrugged.

The conversation was then dropped.

A small smile started to bloom on your face. He really thought he could rid of you like that, didn’t he? You knew he didn’t really like you, but using it’s not safe as an excuse to a Gothamite? Really? Yeah, that’s a bunch of bogus.

… Though, you had to admit, it was nice that he at least sounded considerate.

You woke up to the sounds of disgruntlement coming from the living area.

It wasn’t too loud, as you couldn’t exactly comprehend what was being said, but it was loud make you realize the disgruntled party was extremely ticked by something. Getting out of bed, you put your ear to the door for better listening.

“I already told you, I can’t. I’ve been leaving this kid home alone far too often for my liking. ……. Where, Roy?! Where can they stay?! Bruce isn’t in the right headspace to have another kid in the manor, and— ow, fuck— it’s not like they have any friends to crash with for the night! ……. Transferred schools. Would’ve been nice if Bruce said something about that, but— ……. Said their Gotham friends live in areas just as bad. Besides, there’s no way in hell I’m letting them step foot back into that hellhole without me being there. ……. ‘Cuz it’s fucking Gotham, Roy! It’s only city in the world that has a death by killer clown statistic!!”

Ah. Another phone call. Dick had been making a lot of those, recently. You never knew who was on the other line, except if it was Bruce or (by rare chance) Alfred, but you had a general idea that it was always one of his super hero friends. Not very many people casually talked about beating up thugs and criminals, after all.

“No— absolutely not. Bruce would be pissed if he found out!! He’d think I’m trying to make them into my sidekick or something, and god knows what happens to them after that. I’ve been through the system, Roy. While I’m not too keen on keeping a kid around, putting them back there is not an option. ……. They’re just— safer in my apartment than anywhere else right now. I can’t have anything happening to them. Not after Jason. Bruce would never forgive me, and I— I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. ……. I’m sorry, Roy. Maybe next time. ……. Yeah. Tell the other Titans I’m thinking about them, okay? ……. Yeah, good luck tonight. Try not to show up on the news. ……. Yup. See you.”

Your ears picked up on a low beep, heralding the end of the call. As Dick let out a string of curses, you couldn’t help but feel… empty. You were more than just a pain in the ass for Dick; you were a full-blown problem. It wasn’t just the fact that you were keeping him from having hero fun. Even if he wasn’t all that fond of you, he still considered you his responsibility, and seemed genuinely worried about your safety when he wasn’t there. You were under the impression that he went out at night to forget you existed, but…

Jason…

Jason was a name you were only vaguely familiar with, usually used as a heavy blow in a Dick v. Bruce argument. While you don’t exactly know the full context, Alfred did make mention once of a kid who lived in Wayne Manor before you (the one who is “no longer with us,” as the butler solemnly said), and upon stumbling into the Batcave by accident, some of the only coherent mutterings he offered were, “Jason,” and “no, not again.”

Again, you didn't know the full context, but it's easy to put together the pieces from there.

A particularly loud curse from the other side of the door brought you back to reality. You at first wondered if you should go out there and make sure your current guardian-figure was okay, but you decided against it, as A.) he was probably just patching himself up from a particularly rough skirmish, and B.) he didn't seem like he was in the mood to see you. Besides, with your thoughts on this Jason kid, you didn't know if you had enough self-control to keep your burning questions locked away on your tongue.

So, instead, you decided to lay back down in your bed, brainstorming ideas to get Dick to talk about Jason.

This was… kind of a terrible way to ask.

Sure, you were curious. The thought had been haunting your thoughts since Bruce’s breakdown, and being out of the loop was slowly eating away at your mind. But maybe you could’ve been less… abrupt… and given Dick a little bit more time to be mentally prepared. It was an extremely sensitive topic, after all, and you knew even he was healing from the aftermath.

You hoped he understood your question wasn’t just morbid curiosity; Jason’s death is in-part the reason you’re here, after all.

Dick stared at you across from the dinner table. His fork had a few pieces of macaroni skewered one the prongs, half-raised to be shoveled into his mouth. Blue eyes stared right through you, blinking owlishly as he presumably tried to process what the fuck you just asked him. All you could do was hunch into yourself in your seat, mentally scolding yourself for how fucking rude your question probably was. Painfully long seconds ticked by with no sort of response, and you eventually decided that the best course of action was to do some preemptive damage control.

“You— actually, you don’t have to answer,” you weakly sputtered. “I’m so sorry, that’s— that was so uncalled for. I’m really sorry, Dick.”

He set his fork down. “No, it’s fine. I’m just… did Bruce not— he never told you?”

You shook your head.

“… Ah,” was his reply. His eyes wandered towards the window, an unreadable expression falling onto his face. He seemed a bit… lost. Which was understandable, as you didn’t exactly give him prep time for a conversation like this. You gave him as much time as he needed to put his thoughts in order.

Finally, he gave an answer. “Killed in action. Ended up in the hands of the Joker, and… well, he didn’t come home. No Robin ever since.”

The flat tone that carved through his words caused your hair to stand on end. He kept the details vague, but you didn’t find yourself minding all that much. If the Joker was involved, it probably wasn’t that much of a lovely story. “So, he was Robin after you?”

A hum of confirmation came from Dick. “The mantle was open, since I took up a new name. After finding out that Bruce was Batman, he practically begged to be trained as Robin.” He slowly brought the fork to his mouth. “That’s what Bruce said, anyway.”

It was then you noticed the silverware rattling from some sort of rhythmic thumping. After a few moments, you realized it was from your knee hitting against the table, causing you to will your legs to stay still. “Um…” you cleared your throat. “Were you… close with Jason?”

“I mean, we were friendly.” He still neglected to make eye contact with you. “I tried to be a good example to him, but I was busy doing my own thing here.” His gaze dropped to the linoleum floor. “Didn’t spend enough time with him.”

A heavy pressure crushed down on your chest. While you didn’t know Jason personally, you were no stranger to the concept of loss, and the more you learned about his death, the more your current situation was starting to make sense. Jason discovered Bruce was Batman. He wanted to be Robin, and Bruce let him. Then he died as Robin. Bruce’s adopted son died on the field, in the costume.

So, after you found out Bruce was Batman… it probably felt all too familiar.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you practically whispered.

Dick only sighed. “It’s alright, kiddo.” Finally, he raised his eyes to look at you. “Say, how are you doing in that chemistry class?”

… Huh?

The abrupt change in subject was… interesting. But definitely understandable, as talking about Jason’s death probably wasn’t all too pleasant. Guilt started to eat away at your conscious, the thought of making Dick uncomfortable by reminding him of his grief and regrets making your heart feel heavy. So, you merely offered a shrug and said, “uh… I’m doing fine.”

“Thought you were having trouble with valence equations,” he mused.

You could only dumbly stare at him. Okay… this was new territory. Sure, he always asked how school was while picking you up, but this was the first time he’s talked about it at dinner. Then again, this is the first time you two have talked at dinner period, since most dinners were spent eating in total silence, so maybe he was just trying to cleanse the awkward air that you created from randomly inquiring about Jason (because you can't do anything right, apparently).

So, ignoring the warmth that swirled in your chest at the thought of him actually caring about your life outside of the polite, seemingly obligatory after-school exchanges, you indulged.

Blüdhaven nights weren’t all that different from Gotham’s. They could get noisy, the sounds of the city mixing together into one cacophony. You’ve learned how to sleep through it all, and it’s not like it’s all high energy for the entire night; around 1 in the morning, there’s a lull in activity that yields little to no sounds to disturb your slumber. Some would even call this hour the most peaceful that places like Gotham and Blüdhaven can get, despite all of the dubious activities that are probably happening.

So, something like the sound of a window sliding opening is enough to disturb this peace.

It was your window. It sounded like it was right in your room, so it had to be your window. You stayed as petrified as a statue in your bed, the fog of sleepiness immediately airing out of your brain from your nervous system screaming, holy shit, someone is opening my window. Well, maybe, if you continued to stay still, they wouldn’t recognize the obvious lump in the bed, take whatever the fuck they wanted, and be on their merry way. With any luck, Dick was done doing his hero shit, and the unfortunate sap breaking into the apartment would have a run-in with Nightwing.

That’s when a your bed began to creak from a new weight being added to it.

… Ah, shit.

You didn’t move. There was no way in hell you were moving. Even if the intruder seemingly knew you were there, you could do nothing else but stay stagnant in place, waiting for them to make the next move. Maybe, if they touch you, you could swing your arm to hit them and catch them by surprise. That might give you enough time to run, find Dick’s room, and pray to god he’s home. If not, then you could at least lock yourself in his room and hold out until he does.

Your thoughts were cut short when a familiar voice rang out.

“You didn’t lock your window.”

… That bastard—!!

Relief crashed through your body like a tidal wave. A heavy breath tumbled out of your lips — one that you didn’t even know you were holding in — which alleviated the growing pressure in your chest. Now that you could feel your limbs again, you willed away the shiver that wanted to travel through your body as you turned to face this so-called intruder. “Kind of an unconventional way to come home, don’t you think?”

Your eyes met the pearly white lenses of a domino mask. The shadowy figure sitting on your bed had his arms crossed over the unmistakable azure symbol of Nightwing, which, oddly enough, had an intriguing iridescent shimmer under the moonlight. Huh… none of the cameras really pick up that detail, you mentally noted, glancing back and forth between the contrast of matte black and shiny blue. You were no professional superhero costume critic, but it was a nice little touch.

Dick’s tired sigh snapped you out of your thoughts. It was a grim reminder that — oh, yeah — you’re about to get chewed out by your vigilante kind-of-older-brother… at an ungodly hour. “Kid,” he began, the chastising tone you were becoming more and more acquainted with lacing every word, “you can’t keep forgetting to lock everything like that. What if I was some crook, or kidnapper, or worse?”

“Good thing it was just Nightwing coming through my window to give me a heart attack,” you humorlessly mused.

Though you couldn’t see underneath the mask, you knew he was giving you that one unamused stare you’re all too familiar with. “(Y/N), I’m serious. This is about your safety, your life, even. If something bad happens while I’m out, I won’t be able to protect you. For god’s sake, kid. I could be on the other side of Blüdhaven while you’re getting taken, or murdered, or whatever!!” He took a moment to heave another sigh. “Just… promise me you’ll lock your window next time, alright? Please.”

All you could do was wordlessly nod. After taking some time to process what he was saying, you admittedly felt bad. He was right; neglecting to lock your window like that could very well mean death in Blüdhaven. It’s not like growing up in Gotham is any different, so you knew this fact very well. Maybe your time at the manor caused you to become less careful, as it’s unlikely any criminals are hitting up the Wayne residence anytime soon; and it’s not like any of them know about the Bat-level security, either.

A springy click echoed through your room, and you looked up to see Dick inspecting your window (you’ve long stopped questioning how he just teleports like that). After deeming it to be safe, he softly padded towards your door. His hand was on the knob, but he seemed a bit hesitant to turn it. Then, almost as an afterthought, he looked at you over his shoulder and said, “goodnight, kiddo.”

“… Goodnight,” you mumbled.

He was out the door.

Click.

Now alone in your room, you could finally replay what just happened. Dear Big Bro Dickybird just gave you the scare of a lifetime, chastised you about being irresponsible, and left to assumingly go to bed (though you’re not sure if that man actually sleeps or not). The conversation — well, more like lecture — played in your mind, repeating on loop like a broken record… because of course your mind wanted to make you feel guiltier than you already did.

That’s when something weird stuck out to you.

“You can’t keep forgetting to lock everything like that.”

… Keep?

As far as you knew, that was your first time actually forgetting…

So... how did he know?

Thwack.

Before you could even begin to register whatever the fuck just hit your forehead, a teasingly dry voice rang out from above. “Your handwriting really sucks, y'know."

With furrowed brows to showcase your confusion, you forced yourself to sit upright on the couch. A small notepad fell from your chest to the floor, the pages sprawled out from the metal spiral to reveal your list of things you wanted from the store. “I was writing fast,” you grumbled.

"Sure you were," cooed Dick with a less-than-friendly smirk. He then cocked his head to the side, arms crossing over his chest. "Wanted a change of scenery or something?"

You felt your face scrunch up. "What does that mean?"

"You usually watch your dumb little YouTube videos in your room," he explained. "Not sprawled out on my couch."

Honestly, you weren't even going to question how he knew that. Maybe it was that dumb Bat-detective intuition, or the fact that you probably need to start turning the volume on your phone down a notch (thin walls, remember?). Rolling your eyes, you situated yourself so that you were once again lounging comfortably on the couch. "Trying to tell me something, bucko?"

"Yeah, actually." Before you knew it, you were being ripped away from the cushions, an indignant yelp leaving your lips as you dangled mid-air from your legs. You had to adjust to your new upside-down view in order to throw Dick an incredulous glare. The bastard merely offered a shit-eating grin, simply stating, "get off my couch."

"... Could've just told me that," you spat out.

He began to walk you out of the living room. "You wouldn't of listened."

"Wha-- I totally would've!"

"Somehow, I doubt that."

Whatever retort you wanted to throw at him dissolved into a heavy OOMF as he dropped you onto the floor. You found yourself glaring up at him once more as he swiped invisible dust off of his hands, giving you a champion smirk before heading back in the living. You managed to orient yourself into an awkward squat just in time to see him confidently throw himself into the couch cushions.

That asshole just kicked you out of your spot.

You were not about to let that slide.

With an animalistic yell, you began to gallop — yes, gallop; it was a weird mix of running and crawling, as you were already on the floor — at him full speed. He barely had time to react to your charge (as you victoriously noted from his surprised OOF as you pounced on him), and within seconds, the both of you were locked into a fight to the death. Dick might've had the upper hand when it came to combat technique, but what you lacked in experience, you made up in dedication as you tried your damned hardest to push him off of the couch.

"Hey," he wheezed out. "Quit it, you little freak!!"

"You quit it," was your breathy reply. "I was here first!!"

"But it's my couch!!"

"Didn't see you using it!!"

"Just 'cuz I was getting your dumbass groceries!!"

"You were out for a whole-ass hour!!"

Despite giving it your all, the battle was beginning to turn against you as Dick managed to wrestle your upper body between his forearm and bicep. He eventually managed to pin your viciously kicking legs under his arm, and looking back on it, the scene probably looked reminiscent of a zookeeping holding down a trashing crocodile. This didn't deter you however, as you began to gnaw at his forearm, drawing a sound of disgust from your captor. "I had to spend, like, 30 minutes trying to decipher your shit handwriting," he scoffed. "Now can you just accept defeat and stop biting me!?"

You tried to respond with something along the lines of, "not until you give me my spot back," but it came out as garbled nonsense with your mouth full of his forearm. He aggressively told you to repeat yourself (probably under the pretense that you were giving him some major lip), and during the time you relieved his skin of your teeth to say something much worse than you initially did, a cheerful little tune began to play from Dick's pocket.

"... Hold that thought," he murmured.

Respectfully, you kept still and allowed him to use one of his hands to fish his phone out of his hoodie (you thought about using this as an opportunity to escape, but that would go against the unspoken rules of battle). He squinted his eyes to read the caller ID, only to heave a frustrated groan. “Bruce,” he curtly informed you. You were about to ask if he wanted some privacy, when he suddenly released you from his hold and sent you careening towards the ground. So, taking that as an answer, you scrambled off of the floor and headed towards your room, phone somehow materializing in your hand in the process.

From your room, the call sounded so faint.

… Maybe the walls weren’t as thin as you initially thought they were.

You let out a jet of hot air through your teeth. “The hell is taking him so long?”

The time was 3:50, but Dick’s old car was nowhere to be seen in your school’s parking lot. You shot hit a text 5 minutes ago that has yet to be read, and if you were being honest, you were more anxious than annoyed. Dick was never late to pick-up. Late to drop-off, sure (there was one time you showed up to school at 11:25 due to him sleeping in from a late-night drug bust, and you got the pleasure of making up an embarrassing excuse at the expense of Dick’s pride to the front office), but never pick-up.

So, this meant one of two things; he’s finally forgotten about you, or there’s an emergency.

Just as you were debating on checking the local news, your phone buzzed in your hand, screen lighting up to reveal a message from Bastard. You could feel your apprehension melting away as you unlocked your phone to read his message:

robbery going on

… Ah. That explains the spike in police siren activity going on around you.

You were about to shoot him a classic, “what the fuck” text, but his typing bubble popped up. After a second, another message followed:

gonna be late

Okay, now you decided to send your, “what the fuck.”

The read status under your text didn’t show up until a few minutes later (because that’s what you needed in this moment; more anxiety), and he immediately got to typing.

sorry kiddo

stay put

be there in a sec

Your shaky fingers managed to type him a message along the lines of, “be careful, good luck,” which was left unread by him. A snake of apprehension began to squeeze at your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe. You had to force yourself to suck in a good bit of air to calm your nerves. Maybe he was just busy kicking some ass, that’s all. He’s stopping a whole-ass robbery from happening, so it’s not like he can keep up with your messages. Besides, he told you he would be there “in a sec,” so he’s probably wrapping everything up now.

Calm down, (Y/N), you scolded yourself. Your brother is Nightwing. He’ll be fine.

That’s when you witnessed an explosion light up the sky.

It was distant, but big enough to send a low rumble through the ground. You watched in absolute horror as the violent orange and yellow dissipated from behind the cityscape, leaving an inky trail of smoke behind as its calling card. More and more sirens of different origins — police, fire, ambulance — were overlapping in a terrible harmony, though it was hard to process from the brazen ringing in your ears, clogging your brain out from the outside world.

Oh, shit.

What if that was—?!

You desperately fumbled with your phone, unlocking it to reveal your still unread message to Dick. You were hoping for some sort of sorry about that text, or at the very least to see his typing bubble, but you were met with radio silence. Apprehension became pure fear when your thoughts began to race. Something bad happened to Dick. There’s no way in hell an explosion happened coincidentally, so something bad just happened.

Not good, not good, not good at all…!!

It took longer than you wanted to get your fingers to type something:

Dick??

Dick, you okay??

I saw that, are you okay??

Dick??

Dick??

… Nothing.

You resorted to calling him.

… Beeeeeeeeep…

… Beeeeeeeeep…

… Beeeeeeeeep…

“Come on,” you muttered. “Come on, come on, come on, pick up—!!”

… Beeeeeeeep…

…

“Hey, you’ve reached the voice mail of Dick Grayson, just shoot me a text and I’ll—”

You hung up.

This was bad. This was so bad. Something bad is happening, and you’re not even sure if Dick’s okay. Hell, you saw how big that explosion was. Is he even fucking alive?!

You couldn’t help but utter a watery, “no…”

You’re not going through this again.

Without a second to spare, your legs began to carry you forward in a full sprint. You weren’t exactly sure where the explosion went off, and it’s not like you’re all that familiar with Blüdhaven just yet to know where any possible candidates for a robbery could be, but you followed the smoke pillars like a beacon, gauging how close you were based on the surrounding sirens. People stood like statues on the sidewalks to ogle at evidence of destruction wafting through the sky, and no cars dared to run you over as you cut through the streets.

“Come on, Dick,” you said between huffs. “Please— please be okay..!!”

He had to be okay.

You couldn’t lose someone else in your life.

[badchoicesworld]

i hear you requested requests! ive got one!!

hobie x masc reader that's gwens older brother (ik its not canon, but the canon can fuck itself) (sorry miggy)

i dont really have anything in mind for reader's personality or whatever (so thats up to you!) but id like if reader liked to draw (thus ended up drawing hobie and got caught by him hahaha cliches i love them)

where hobie meets gwens older brother (you !)

hobie x masc!reader

this actually gave me hella ideas, im gonna link it to what happened in the movie (sorry it took a while, life fucked me)

didn’t specify if it was platonic or romantic (WHICH IS FINE ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥) so i’ve just done general shit for both lmao

warnings: none

pairing: hobie brown x masc!reader

requests: open, i cant let the demons catch me

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

when you first meet hobie you’re so very thankful to him for taking care of your little sister

if gwen managed to hide her being ghost-spider from your guys’ dad, then she likely hid it from you, too

but obviously, your dads gonna have to tell you why gwen didn’t come home one day

you’re crushed, naturally. likely furious at your own dad for literally firing a warning shot at her

might have ran away yourself, maybe hobie comes to your rescue too

or maybe you two meet while hobie’s dropping off his homemade gizmo for gwen, and you’re so unbelievably thankful for him and his generosity when you meet him

of course you will be, he took your sister in while you couldn’t do anything to help

hobie’s probably side-eyeing yours and gwens dad but is happy to get along with you if you’re gwens bother

he cant stay for long at that moment in time, got a multiverse to save and all that

but the brief interaction opens doors to many opportunities in the future

hobie gets to hear about the brief reunion between you and gwen from her, after she went back to her own dimension before it was show time

he becomes very intrigued by you

next time you two meet is likely after they save the multiverse (WHICH THEY WILL WITH ZERO CASUALTIES UNLESS ITS MIGUEL.)

BUT GENERALLY SPEAKING NOW

miguel definitely doesn’t approve of hobie using his watch to travel dimensions just to see you or gwen, still does anyway if he doesn’t just build his own

probably came to see gwen, pick her up to bring him to his own dimension, whatever

sees you instead, target acquired

hobie’s heard plenty about you from gwen, likes to think you aren’t strangers so is super friendly, overly even

catches you in your room, drawing in a well loved sketchbook

definitely does that thing where he just fucking appears behind you, he’s that quiet when walking despite the accessories

he’s looking over your shoulder while you draw silently, you might be too distracted to notice or you’re immediately started by him

smug asf when you finally catch on, is especially entertained if he’s caught you drawing him, god forbid

wouldn’t be surprised though, he likes to make people stare so is honestly complimented if you’ve been trying to draw him since first seeing him

doesn’t just snatch ur sketchbook and start looking through it though, unlike someone

as an artist, he gets it

you’re probably super protective over ur sketchbook actually because of gwen, smh

will probably banter a little bit about that, tease something about gwen that you’d both be victim to, like her tendency to borrow things without permission

find common ground yknow

“ain’t it a pain when she [gwen activities]” but you’re not being mean ur bonding it’s fine, we don’t slander gwen (i do however have some strong words)

starts hanging out with you on the odd chances gwen isn’t home, just casually in your room at first

starts off talking about your guys’ interests, seeing if you have things in common

probably listening to music together

the closer you get, he starts to actually travel dimensions just to see you

casually waves to gwen before ducking into your room

is happy to just kick back there, but is also happy to go out and do things at that point

the more you hang out, the more your dad and gwen begin to tease you- which is nothing in comparison to the shit hobie faces

gwen easily told everyone else about you two hanging out, he never hears the end of it now regardless of dimension

hobie starts using the front door instead of just appearing in your room “son, your boyfriend’s here” ur devastated why would ur dad say that

THENN hobie starts to come to your dimension for you more than gwen, has probably already invited you back to his once or twice but now he’s a lot more frequent with invites, wants you to consider his place a second home (in case you ever wanna run from home, cough)

say something does blossom between you two, obviously you don’t label it cause hobie’s not about that

you get promoted from “gwens brother” to “hobie’s boyfriend” at some point even if you don’t use labels- that’s only if ur not like too close to the rest of the friend group, but i imagine you’ve gotta be

hobie probably talks more about being spider-man relatively early on considering the topic, but since you know his secret identity it doesn’t really matter to him

the closer you are, the more into his stories he is

is ready to reenact the whole thing for you now so it’s like you were there

draw each other, i dare u

make playlists for each other, perhaps ?

there’s a lot of gwen snitching to each of you

and then you two do with that information together what you will later

like if you’re just being gay for each other it’s wild how fast gwen goes to the other and is like “guess what he said” she is not slick about it

hobie can be found at ur place more often then not, your dads a little more iffy about you going to a different dimension

still, very grateful to be welcome in your home but hobie definitely prefers to kick back at his

hobie loves to bother gwen about your whereabouts, if you are a thing or not “where’s your brother at?” he’s pretending to be cool about it

does your dad approve ? who cares

but nah he’s way more open minded after the incident, thinks hobie is a peace of work and probably his own son too if you’ve got a similar personality, in that case you’re perfect for each other

if not he’s just happy you’re happy, that’s all he cares about

obviously gwen supports it, likes to claim she introduced you guys and you owe your relationship to her when she tries to win in an argument/conversation

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

[bejeweledblondie]

Peggy, The Pin Up

-

A/N: I apologize for being MIA I’ve had a lot of very great but time consuming things take over my life! I’ve started a 1940s vintage clothing blog & I’m shocked at how successful it has become. On top of that I’ve got promotions at work & it’s opened so many doors for me. I’m hoping to write a bit more!

Warnings: classic 1940’s sexism, mentions of nudity, female pronouns

Summary: Y/N never expected for her pin up prints to be put out… it causes some disruption on Abbott-Thorpe & one dark curly haired aviator comes to her rescue

It all happened on a Thursday morning at breakfast. Y/N sat there in her crisp white uniform shoveling the chalky yellow substance the army called eggs in her mouth. A dark shadow appeared above her plate & a magazine was plopped down in front of her.

“Don’t even try to deny it, this is you isn’t it?” He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. Speechless she looked away & noticed that the Army’s shipment of Esquire hit the shelves. “God who knew? We knew you were a tease, but this is just another level.” He started. “Do you know what everyone says about you?” She shook her head shamefully, lying to herself. She had heard rumblings in the sick bay from time to time. Sometimes while fixing a patients IV bag or a even helping move a patient a hemline might rise causing a stir.

Before the pilot could continue his chauvinistic teasing session she immediately grabbed her belongings & swiftly exited. Little did she know a dark curly haired pilot was watching the torment happen. Due to rank he couldn’t intervene but oh he so badly wanted to bury the man six feet under. He had grown fond of the nurse, she was always so kind with his men. Incredibly soft spoken & nurturing when it came to the care she provided. He had walked in on her reading a copy of John Steinbeck’s, “Of Mice & Men” to the wounded pilots one evening. She didn’t have to do that, she could’ve been out dancing at the Officer’s Club. But she voluntarily chose to stay after her shift to read to them. He could tell the men greatly appreciated it too, it gave them a small window of comfort during an incredibly traumatic moment in their lives.

Douglass, also watching the debacle rolled his eyes & sipped his coffee.

“These men act like they’ve never seen tits before it’s insane.” He scoffed. Rosie almost choked on the toast he was eating.

“I mean some are freshly turned eighteen.” Blakely reminded him.

“Still, this is going to cause a huge fucking problem.” He swore. “Rosenthal, you okay?” Rosie had been staring off into the space during the duration of the conversation.

“Go to her,” Douglass sighed. “She may be oblivious but I’m not. You’ll also want to scoop her before someone like Egan does.” With that Rosie excused himself & started to head towards the medical ward. The sterile white environment contrasted heavily from the drab olive green darkness of the mess hall. Injured pilots laid in beds reading the paper, being fed their morning breakfast, or having their vitals taken. Valerie, a nurse he knew was friendly with Y/N was checking the vitals on a young sergeant.

“Val!” He said getting her attention & started over to her. “Have you seen Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah, she seemed a bit off,” She started. “She begged Major to allow her to just work in supply today. You might wanna try there.”

“Thank you.” Rosie replied & made his way to the supply room. There she stood sniffling & rolling gauze. Her eyes were clouded with a melancholy look as she completed the mundane task. He knocked on the door frame causing her to look up slightly startled.

“Oh Major Rosenthal it’s you,” She said with a slight tremble in her voice. “What can I do for you?” He cringed at her using his rank, usually it would make his blood pressure rise & heart race. But this circumstance was entirely different.

“I saw what happened in the chow hall,” He started. She’s started to wipe away tears. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He said wringing anxiously. She sighed deeply & looked away.

“I’ll be alright,” She stated. “I’m just going to lay low for a few weeks.” It broke his heart to see her this way. She was always a little jumpy & anxious to begin with. This situation just poured gasoline on a oil fire.

“No,” Rosie stated. “You shouldn’t let some asshole make you feel uncomfortable.” She stared him with big wide eyes. “If it makes you feel any better I’ll escort you places.” Her eyes softened as she listened to him. A small crimson warmth crept onto her cheeks at the mere mention of him escorting her.

After a few weeks, the heat died out about the pin up nurse. Rosie & Y/N had become closer over the weeks. His protection meant no one would even try to touch a hair on her head. From lingering touches, longing gazes, & of course Rosie sitting on her nightly readings to the wounded pilots. He (like every man on post who took a liking to her) did keep a copy of the pin up photo.

On missions he’d keep the folded piece of paper tucked into the pocket of his sheepskin. A reminder of what he was protecting & fighting for. His calloused thumb would graze over her innocent smile as he admired the image. Even in his bunk, he’d spend some alone time with it after everyone had fallen asleep. During one night after the pin up photo was brought up by a rookie pilot, & in turn making Y/N uncomfortable. Rosie knew he had to make her see what he saw in the photo. After some discussions with Ken Lemmons, he decided to really make sure he was reminded everyday was he was fighting for.

With hands covering her eyes he directed her to the airstrip.

“Rosie I can’t see!” Y/N giggled, tripping over her own feet. He chuckled at her natural clumsiness. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see, you’re so impatient.” He said. He lead her right up the nose to his beloved bomber. “Okay now you can see.” With the removal of his hands & a adjustment to the sunlight she was staring at herself painted on the side of his bomber. The same pin up that graced Esquire months ago that brought them together. She gasped in pure shock at the artwork.

“Oh, Rosie.” She gasped unable to speak. “Did you paint this?”

“With a little help from Lemmons.” He replied. “I want you to see what I see. A beautiful woman. Do you like it?”

“I-wow,” She smiled. “I love it.” She turned around to face him. He was staring down her, admiring the way the sun light reflected off her hair. He brushed stray strands of hair behind her ear. His hand lightly danced across her cheek bone as he stared adoringly into her eyes. He leaned down & placed a tender kiss onto her lips. She reciprocated & kissed back. Her arms wrapped around his neck & his slowly gravitated to her waist pulling her in closer. After pulling a part they rested foreheads against one another.

“God you have no idea how long I’ve always wanted to do that,” He admitted.

[slptkns]

New Roommates

[Poly!Sleep Token x GN!Reader]

Summary: After your old roommate left, you were immediately greeted with four new ones, and the realization that your apartment is not big enough for five people.

A/N: Some suggestive themes at the end! Mostly just fluff.

Word Count: 1,270

A/N: Hi, it's me again, obsessing over some masked men. I saw @faithghoul (hope you don't mind the tag!) had some headcanons for like different powers the guys would have and I was struck with an idea of like mundane life mixed with those! I didn't go too in depth but i would love to if y'all are interested in my take on things!! Also, this is sorta a Part 2 of [this], but can read as a stand alone!

You groaned as you tried to make your way through your tiny flat. You just knew after your roommate moved out that you'd have enough room for yourself. You were mistaken. Horribly.

“Ves!” You yelled out once you finally reached the kitchen. “What the fuck? Don’t you guys have a place to stay?”

Vessel made his way towards you and you crossed your arms at him.

“You were practically begging for them the other night, and now you barely even want me here?”

You blink at him, before finally sighing and putting your hands up in defeat. “Look, you’re right. But, how the fuck am I supposed to watch TV?” You motioned towards the television, which was surrounded by II, III, and IV. “I mean, I love having you all here! But it’s-”

You’re cut off when III turns towards you and his eyes hit yours. He didn’t say anything, as usual. He didn’t have to speak, not aloud anyway. You look at Vessel and furrow your brows.

“He said if you want to watch TV they’ll move for you.” Vessel was grinning.

“But, what’s the condition?” You’re deadpan. Arms cross again. Vessel let out a loud laugh and II, III, and IV are all turned towards you now.

“Why does there have to be a condition?” Vessel cocks his head at you.

“What’s the condition?” You turn towards III. There is no answer. Not verbally. You, for a moment, were sure he wasn’t going to answer, period. Then you felt an intense brain fog. Your mind clouded, all outside noses were gone, until suddenly you heard his voice, “You have to sit in my lap.”

Your hand moved to your head immediately and you let out a soft groan as your eyes shut. A hand grabbed for you, Vessel’s. He steadied you and you looked back up at them. “I’m unsure I’ll ever get over that feeling…” You grumbled to yourself, “Okay. I need to sit in someone's lap after that.”

Vessel released you and you walked back into the living area. You grabbed up the remote for the TV and ushered the guys to the couch. You handed the remote to Vessel and settled yourself in III’s lap. His arms wrapped around you and his head rested on your shoulder.

“What do you want to watch?” Vessel questioned you.

“Whatever you can find,” You leaned back into III’s chest and closed your eyes, “My head hurts now, but I don’t mind sitting in here with you guys.”

III nuzzled into your neck and you heard him huff. And, for the first time in a while, he spoke to you out loud, “Sorry.”

His voice sounded strained and hoarse. It sent chills down your spine. You mumbled back an ‘it’s okay’ and nuzzled yourself back into him.

It wasn’t very hard for you to go to sleep once you got settled in. You knew there was some supernatural help with the resting, as Vessel had turned on some horror movie. No way you would have been able to go to sleep on your own to some loud screams.

You woke up the next morning in your own bed, cuddled up to a pillow and you sighed. Your eyes looked around the room and there were no signs of anyone else in there. You pouted and stood up. You walked towards your bedroom door and began to exit your room. As you were rubbing your eyes, and walking from the room, you bumped into something. Or someone rather.

A scream rips from your mouth and you jump back. Your deep sleep had you forgetting your apartment wasn’t really only yours anymore, you hadn’t expected to bump into someone while leaving your room.

Once your eyes opened all the way and you saw it was only II, you sighed. His hands were up, his eyes were wide, and he looked at you in confusion. You grabbed your chest and sighed out. “I thought you were- I’m so sorry-”

II shakes his head at you, hinting that there was no need to apologize. You nodded back at him and noticed something was in his hand. You cocked your head and motioned towards his closed fist.

“What’s that?” You had an idea it was for you, as II loved bringing you things that reminded him of you. At least that’s what Vessel had told you.

He lit up when you asked about it and was quick to show you what was in his hand. His arm outstretched towards you and his fist faced upwards. He opened his fist to reveal a gold chain, a bracelet by the looks of it.

“II!” You gently grabbed the bracelet from his palm and you could see him light up even more. “I love it!”

You pulled him into a quick hug and placed a kiss on his mask, before pulling away and asking for help to put it on.

“You don’t want to know where it came from?” A voice came from your kitchen.

II, helping you put the bracelet on, did not seem phased by the question. You, however, very much did care that the question was asked. You looked over towards Vessel as he exited your kitchen, your cat in tow.

“One,” You put up your finger, “Why is he letting you hold him? And two,” You put up another finger, “I’ve learned to not ask. It’s better that way.”

Vessel’s head rolled back and he let out a soft laugh, “I see. You’re learning… And your cat loves us. I’m unsure how he acts when he’s around you,” -since he was never around you when they were around- “but he does seem very fond of us.”

You turned your nose up to him, “My cat loves me just as much as he loves you!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“That would be you,” you gave him zero expression. You could see II tense as you and Vessel begin to bicker and you froze. “Sorry, I’m not mad!” You reassure II, “Just- Just messing around.”

“He said don’t do that.” It’s Vessel’s turn to give you zero expression.

You looked over at II and he shook his head. You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend and nodded. “Okay, sure, if II said that I would never mess around ever again.” You rolled your eyes at Vessel.

He tensed immediately at the defiance, “But not if I said it?”

“II is so lovely, Ves, and I feel like-”

“And we aren’t?” He was quick to come to his and the other’s defense.

You couldn’t help but smile, “Ves, I’m just messing around! Of course you’re all lovely. But you don’t bring me presents like II does.”

“Oh, it’s the presents.”

You couldn’t see it, but you knew II was smiling under his mask. You gently nudge II with your elbow. “Yeah, we have a special bond, he gets me.”

“He doesn’t eat-”

“Okay!” You let out a loud yelp, “That’s enough of that! I’m done messing around! Don’t you, like, have… business you need to tend to or something?”

“I think we all have business that needs tending to.” He took a step forward, a shit eating grin on his face. Your eyes widened as you saw III and IV stood up from the couch and II was bright eyed beside you.

“I said I was done messing around!” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “I just woke up, damn!”

You weren’t sure what was being said between the four of them, but you were sure you were about to find out.