#its fancier that way
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lore-gore · 8 months ago
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people who say hazbin hotel is for 'edgy queer kids' have the same vibe as people who say 'that band is for white neurodivergent transmasc kids'. it's this hidden layer of rancidness that makes you think "wait... Why is that an insult?"
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ghostdnfie · 2 days ago
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now that's out of the way. what's a funny, subtle yet effective way to repel my dranti audience on my alt
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blue-eyed-giant · 6 months ago
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new goal in business major studies: find a cruelty free way of scamming rich people
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aria0fgold · 7 months ago
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Doodled the pretty lady from my dream...
And her fancy earrings, with some added details that wasn't included in my dream.
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cathalbravecog · 2 years ago
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based on 90% vibes and 10% facts about the characters. i do not take constructive criticism. buck ruffler never read warrior cats but he'd act like a cat and bite others and invade warrior cat larps as a rogue
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#i didnt know where to put erclaim but like#hes a bit less memey than erfit#and has his rhymes and is fancier i feel like he wouldnt care or know it#erfit on the other hand seems like internet memer to me he would fucking know.#dave is a memer in general i dont take constructive criticism he probably posts deep fried memes on twitter#pacesetter emo kid is true in my heart forever. everyone was reading this so he had to be cool#holly would know what it is bc someone spoke about it and shed prolly go like WHAT IS THIS FOUL LITERATURE YOU CALL THIS READING YOU CALL#THIS ENTERTAINMENT THIS IS NO REAL BOOK OF VALUE#BRIAN Is brian .#chip also emo kid i dont take constructive criticism. projecting on mary and liking the same general things and being a wildlife enjoyer#person just leads you to warrior cats ONE DAY. redd has the vibes. you cant tell me misty didnt larp. misty defo stanned bluestar at first#cathal knows it from internet use but doesnt really care. flint knows from graham and the internet also#everyone else just wouldnt care . like one main way ppl learn abt warriors is online and if theyd see them#in person theyd like. wouldnt care. not literature for me. what is this. glances away#anyways heres my joke list taken too seriously#HEHHEAHHAHA#ITS SUCHA S TUPID IDEA I HAD IT FOR DAYS I HAD TO#shitpost#tier list#managers#redd wasnt almost included OOPS but like he has the vibes i had to put him in#i wanted litigation team here too but i know jackshit about them :skull:#listen i fought diana once. ever. one clo fight. im nowhere near oclo and a lot of stuff i still dont know et bc i dont like spoiling mysel#I SWEAR IF I FORGOT SOMEONE ELSE IM SO SORRY
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rememberthelaughtermp3 · 2 years ago
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stop okay but why does the guy i like give very similar vibes to geoff
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cherry-shipping · 2 years ago
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GYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE I HAD A CUTE DREAM W SANS >:D!!!!!!!! it was in like two parts the first was us just meeting and hitting it off right away which was fun and the other part was. nevermind im too embarrassed to not say it in the tags The tags r my safe cringe space The tags r like my house i live down there
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jomnki · 5 days ago
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only writing my oc in 2nd person perspective because thyme doesn't use any pronouns but "you, me, and various terms for lagomorphs"
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sonicfastboi · 3 months ago
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I love when generations mentions classic sonic being quiet like yeah feed into my mute sonic delusions babeyyyyy
#i love making headcanons and stuff i love ot#i love the idea of sonic who is normally such a energetic and talkative guy like being revealed to actually be such a quiet kid in his youth#i love hearing everyomes own idea as to why so please drop your reasons in the tags or anything#i like to think personally its because he didnt have anyone to talk to until he met tails#like yeah the tiny animals were there but they cant talk back but all of a sudden this tiny fox#wont leave you alone and keeps talkikg to you and you decide to talk back but realize you camt talk because you never learned how too#i love to imagine tails taught him all he knows too!!!! its why tails talks for him in generations because theyre from a point where sonic#is still learning or before hes begun to learn i love it!!!!!#over time after meeting knuckles and amy they also teach him how to talk but of course in their own ways#like amy teaches him slightly fancier words and knuckles teaches him words related to his culture and island#amy also probably realizes that sonic didn't choose to ignore her talking wise in cd because he didnt wanna talk to her#its because he literally COULDN'T talk !!#this is so long but man i could go all day about mute classic sonic#one last thing but when modern sonic also goes a while without talking he kinda has to focus when spoken to out of no where#like if tails asks him what's up after like not talking an entire day he'll have to like process words in his head for a few seconds before#answerimg and tails being his bro would understand that#OK OK IM DONE NOW LOL#my post#sonic the hedgehog
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arolesbianism · 11 months ago
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Y'know I should rly do a comb through of the wiki and correct any mistakes in the logs cause even if I'm too lazy to add all the ones not there it would make double checking the ones that are on there much easier
#rat rambles#oni posting#I know there's at least one that uses an outdated version of the log that was likely a mistake in the first place but there's probably more#a lot of logs have been tweaked and changed over time and if one slipped through the cracks others probably did too#especially since theres already been mistakes in the gravitas page along with outdated duplicant art (aka ellie)#I cant be assed to update everything but I do wanna at least correct the stuff that caused me some confusion at first#I might also do some tweaks to the gravitas employee section to better describe some of their positions#I should probably add some other ppl at some point but that can wait#mostly because a lot of them would require the logs that arent on the wiki to be added and Im not doing that (at least not rn)#I still do want to make my own lore database but Ive been procrastinating mostly because Im not sure where to put all that info#Ill probably just dump it into a google doc for the time being and maybe find a fancier way to present it if enough ppl are interested#which basically means itll probably remain a doc unless more ppl get interested oni lore because currently its pretty much just me and like#what 2 or 3 other ppl#rly my main issue rn is deciding what should be included or not#ofc all of the data files you can find will be included along with story trait logs#but things get kinda fuzzy once we get to the artifact descriptions cause some of them definitely are lore relevant and some of them aren't#like it doesnt rly feel necessary to include some of them but if I dont include some then I have to establish standards#but if I do include them then it means Itd likely be in my best interest to include other item descriptions too#and even if I didn't theres some that legitimately are rly good to read for lore and/or character implications#and then theres also the fact that I should probably also include other stuff™#such as examination quotes and duplicant descriptions along with maybe scrapped logs#yknow rly go the extra mile#but this of course all has to balance not going too deep into proper gameplay cause otherwise Im just making a new wiki#and while Id love for oni to have a non fandom wiki Im not going to be the guy who makes it sorry#I do not know this game nearly well enough on a gameplay level to do that and even if I did I quite frankly wouldn't want to#its already going to be hell for me just to retype all the lore stuff I do not have the motivation for this shit#I would also like to put in info on how to find different logs but I well. don't know.#Id have to find some way to remove all of my logs so I can go recollect them and Im not tec savvy enough to do that#idk maybe there's a mod for it Ill have to go look#because I rly would like to know how unlocking logs works on a deeper level
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misswynters · 2 months ago
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𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐎
jinx x fem!bombshell!reader
synopsis: You are a model for (victorias secret equivalent but in arcane universe) and jinx becomes infatuated with you. Known for you bombshell persona and explosive personality, you are the most well known model in all of piltover and zaun. Possibility even watching noxus and the other regions.
warnings: 18+, smut, kissing, smut, wlw , the use of a toy, jinx calls you sugar,
a/n: my first jinx fic <3, also on ao3 (not yet, under doorkiluv)
note | pls give me feedback (and don't only just like but also reblog and comment) this was supposed to be short but it went overboard
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𓏲 ˖. ♡ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐱 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 for Piltover. Too clean, too polished, too boring. The people were all fake smiles and ridiculous hats, and she preferred the chaos of Zaun to its glittering streets. That all changed the day she first saw you. She’d been in Piltover on a whim, loitering in the shadows as she planned her next prank. Explosives in a fancy clock tower, maybe? She hadn’t decided yet. But her chaotic thoughts screeched to a halt when she looked up at the enormous neon screen in Piltover Square and saw your beautiful face.
You were walking down the runway in a show so glamorous it put Piltover’s polished spires to shame. Wrapped in a shimmering, barely-there gown that hugged your curves, you strode with an air of absolute confidence. Your bombshell persona was magnetic, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the music as the crowd erupted into applause. You gave the camera a cheeky wink and blew a kiss, and Jinx’s brain short-circuited.
“Holy… Who the hell is that?” she muttered, her wide eyes glued to the screen.
A vendor passing by glanced at her. “That’s her. You don’t know? The biggest model in all of Piltover and Zaun. Hell, even Noxus and Ionia are crazy about her.”
Jinx didn’t respond, too transfixed by the image of you flashing across the screen. You were a living firework, a walking explosion of charisma, beauty, and sheer presence. Your bold, flirty persona was a match for her own chaos, and it wasn’t just your looks that had her hooked—it was the energy you carried, the way you owned every moment. From that point on, Jinx was utterly captivated.
Back in her lair, your face became a constant presence. Jinx scavenged every poster, magazine, and billboard she could find that featured you. Her walls were covered in them, glossy images of you smirking, posing, and looking like you owned the world. She couldn’t get enough of you, and it drove her mad in the best way possible.
“Look at her,” she’d whisper to herself, lying on her bed and staring at a magazine cover where you lounged in a shimmering gold corset. “She’s a walking explosion.”
Whenever one of your commercials aired on Piltover’s big screens, Jinx made a point to watch. She’d perch on the rooftops, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you spoke directly to the camera, your voice sultry and teasing. Sometimes, she’d mimic your lines, laughing to herself at how ridiculous she sounded compared to you.
The first time Jinx saw you in person, she nearly short-circuited. You were in Zaun, of all places, stepping out of a sleek transport at one of the fancier underground clubs. It was rare for someone like you to venture into the depths, but you carried yourself with the same confidence that lit up your photoshoots. Heads turned as you walked through the crowd, a knowing smirk on your lips as if you knew exactly the effect you had on everyone around you. Jinx’s pulse quickened. This was her chance.
She darted through the crowd, weaving between gawking onlookers until she was standing at the bar beside you. Up close, you were even more stunning, your beauty almost overwhelming.
“Didn’t think I’d ever see you in a dump like this,” Jinx drawled, leaning casually against the counter. Her nerves were on fire, but she masked it with her usual cocky grin.
You turned to her, one perfectly arched brow raising as you took her in. Your gaze lingered on her bright blue hair and manic energy, and a small, amused smile played on your lips.
“Maybe I like a little chaos,” you replied, your voice smooth as silk. “And you certainly look like the chaotic type.”
Jinx grinned wider, her confidence surging. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not just chaos—I’m a full-blown explosion.”
The two of you spent the night trading flirty remarks and playful banter, the tension between you crackling like a lit fuse. Jinx couldn’t believe her luck. You weren’t just a pretty face. But you had a fiery, explosive personality to match. You were bold, unapologetic, and just as dangerous as you were beautiful. At one point, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she murmured, “So… what’s it like knowing the whole damn world’s obsessed with you?”
You laughed, the sound low and sultry. “I don’t mind the attention,” you said, turning your head so your lips were almost touching hers. “But right now, I’m more interested in you.” Jinx’s heart nearly stopped.
Back at her lair, were things escalated rather quickly. Jinx couldn’t keep her hands off you, tracing every curve and line of your body like she was memorizing you. Her fingers lingered on your hips, her lips trailing heated kisses along your neck as she whispered breathless praises. “You’re even better than the posters,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. “Didn’t think that was possible.”
You teased her with your signature confidence, your voice dripping with flirtation as you pulled her closer. “So you’ve been staring at my posters, huh? What did you think about me?”
Jinx blushed, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she grinned wickedly, her fingers tightening on your waist. “Thought about all the things I’d do if I ever got you alone,” she said, her tone low and rough. “And now, I’m not holding back.”
The tension was electric, charged with the crackling hum of her inventions and the intensity of her gaze on you. She had been teasing you mercilessly all evening, brushing her hands against your skin, dropping flirty remarks that sent heat pooling low in your belly. You could feel the mischief radiating off her as she twirled one of her newest creations in her hand. It was a bright, colorful pleasure device she'd been gushing about for days. Jinx loved experimenting, and tonight, you were her favorite subject.
She grinned at you, her sharp, mischievous grin that made your heart race every time. "Alright, Sugar," she purred, tossing the toy between her hands like it was some casual gadget and not something designed to make you lose your mind. "You trust me, don't ya?"
You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain your usual flirty composure. "You mean to tell me that thing isn't gonna explode?"
Jinx cackled, tossing her head back. "Not this time, babe! Well, probably not. But hey, if it does, at least we'll go out with a bang!" She winked, and despite your hesitation, you couldn't help but nervously laugh. "You're impossible," you murmured letting her guide you to the mattress piled high with pillows and blankets.
"And you're irresistible," she shot back, pressing you down onto the bed with a surprising gentleness for someone so wild. Her hands were steady as they traced over your skin, her fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.
She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear. "Let me take care of you, Sugar," she whispered, her voice dripping with sweetness and heat. "Promise I'll make it fun."
The first sensation was the gentle hum of the device she'd created, a soft vibration against your folds that made you arch into her touch. It was colorful and whimsical, much like Jinx herself, with blinking lights and playful patterns painted across its surface. Despite its toy-like appearance, the way it worked against your body was anything but innocent.
Her free hand skimmed over your inner thigh, her touch featherlight and maddeningly slow. The wetness pooling between your legs became impossible to ignore, and Jinx took full advantage, sliding the toy up until it pressed directly against your bundle of nerves. A slick, wet sound began filled the room, the vibrations amplifying the noise as your arousal spread. Jinx froze for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. "Oh, look at you," Jinx teased, her eyes bright as she watched your reaction.
"Didn't take much, huh? Bet I could've just touched you, and you'd be melting for me." You tried to retort, but the words caught in your throat as she pressed the device lower, her mischievous grin widening as your body jerked in response.
"Aw, Sugar, don't hold back," she crooned, tilting her head to the side as if studying you. "I like hearin' you. Makes it more fun for me."
Your head fell back, a moan slipping past your lips as she adjusted the settings, the vibrations intensifying. She laughed softly, her free hand stroking your thigh as if to ground you. You buried your face in your hands, mortified but too overwhelmed by the pleasure to stop her. The toy’s vibrations grew stronger, and the obscene wet noises only intensified as she moved it against you, her laughter turning into a low, appreciative hum. “Damn, you sound so good,” she murmured, her tone dipping into something more serious. “Bet I could make you scream just with this.”
Your hips bucked against the toy, your slick arousal coating it and making the sounds louder and wetter with each movement. The lewd squelching only seemed to spur Jinx on, her grin growing wider as she adjusted the settings, sending sharper bursts of pleasure through your body. “Listen to that, Sugar,” she teased, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re a fuckin’ symphony for me. All wet and messy, just how I like it.”
The embarrassment of her words was quickly drowned out by the mounting pleasure, your moans growing louder as the toy worked you closer to the edge. Jinx’s free hand slipped beneath your thigh, lifting your leg to spread you open further.
“Look at you,” she said, her eyes dark with hunger as she watched the toy glisten with your slick. “So damn pretty like this. Could stare at you all day."
Her words made your cheeks flush, though you couldn't focus on embarrassment for long. Every nerve in your body was alight, the sensation of her toy paired with her teasing kisses and caresses driving you to the edge. And then she pulled it away, grinning wickedly at your gasp of frustration. "Not yet, Sugar," she said, clicking her tongue. "I'm not done playin' with you."
She shifted her attention, leaning down to press her lips against your neck. Her kisses were hot and open-mouthed, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. You felt her grin against your throat when you whimpered, your hands clutching the sheets beneath you. Her lips found your collarbone, her teeth sinking into the delicate skin to leave another mark.
"Gotta leave my mark," she murmured between kisses, sucking a particularly dark bruise just below your jaw. "Let everyone know you’re mine. My perfect, messy little bombshell.” Her words sent a shiver down your spine, but you hesitated, your modeling career flashing through your mind. "Jinx, I..."
She pulled back, her wide, manic eyes locking with yours. "Aw, don't worry about all that fancy-shmancy stuff," she said, her voice teasing but with an edge of sincerity. "Bet they'll just airbrush it or whatever. C'mon, Sugar, lemme have my fun."
Your protests melted away as she kissed you again, this time harder, deeper, her hands pinning your wrists above your head. The way she looked at you, like you were the most precious thing she'd ever seen, made your resolve crumble. "Fine," you murmured, breathless. "Do your worst."
Her grin was feral. "Oh, babe, you asked for it." Jinx worked her way across your body, leaving a trail of marks in her wake on your neck, your collarbone, and the valley between of your chest. Each one was a testament to her possessiveness, her need to claim you in a way that went beyond words. "You're gonna look so pretty tomorrow," she murmured, her hands and lips everywhere at once. "Walkin' around all marked up, like a damn work of art."
You couldn't even bring yourself to care about the consequences anymore. Her touch was overwhelming, every kiss and bite sending jolts of pleasure through you. She alternated between using her toy and her hands, keeping you teetering on the edge but never quite letting you fall. "Beg for it," she whispered, her voice dark and playful as she hovered above you. "C'mon, Sugar, lemme hear it. Tell me how bad you want me to finish you off."
Your pride wavered, but the need coursing through you won out. "Please, Jinx," you gasped, your voice shaking. "I need you. Please."
She chuckled, clearly satisfied with your quick surrender. "That's more like it," she said, finally pressing the toy back against you. The sensation was overwhelming, and this time, she didn't stop, driving you higher and higher until you finally shattered, a cry escaping your lips as you came undone beneath her. Jinx didn't stop right away, drawing out your pleasure until you were trembling, your body spent and your mind hazy.
When she finally set the toy aside, she crawled up beside you, pulling you into her arms with surprising gentleness. "See?" she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Told ya it'd be fun."
You tilted your head up to meet her gaze, a small smile playing on your lips despite your exhaustion. "Guess I'm stuck with you then," you teased, your flirty nature peeking through even now.
Jinx grinned, her signature chaos in her expression, but there was something softer there, something that tugged at your heart. "Damn right you are. You're mine, babe. Every last gorgeous inch of you." Her fingers danced across your body, tracing the bruises she'd left, her eyes filled with pride as she admired her handiwork. You shivered under her touch, the sensitivity from her earlier teasing still lingering.
"Look at this," she mused, her tone somewhere between awe and glee. "You're a freakin' masterpiece, Sugar. Better than any of those shiny posters they plaster all over Piltover and Zaun."
You couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound weak but genuine. "You think so?"
"I know so," she said firmly, leaning down to nuzzle her face into your neck. "They see the bombshell, the glitz, and the glam, but I get this. I get the real you, all wrecked and perfect just for me." Her words sent warmth spreading through your chest, the vulnerability beneath her usual bravado making your heart ache. You reached up to cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. "You're too good to me, you know that?"
Jinx snorted, pulling back just enough to smirk at you. "Too good? Babe, I'm a menace. But I guess l've got a soft spot for you."
"Lucky me," you teased, letting your fingers trail down to the nape of her neck. She leaned into your touch, her grin softening into something sweeter. "Damn right. You're the luckiest gal in all of Piltover, Zaun, maybe even Noxus." Her playful boasting earned another laugh from you, and she kissed you again, slower this time, her earlier fire giving way to something gentler. The kiss lingered, her lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.
When she finally pulled away, she flopped down beside you, pulling you into her arms as if she couldn't bear to let you go. You rested your head on her chest, listening to the steady thrum of her heartbeat as your body relaxed into hers.
"Y'know," Jinx murmured, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back, "I used to look at those big, fancy posters of you and think, ‘She's way too good for someone like me!"
You tilted your head up to look at her, surprised by her confession. "Jinx..."
"But then I thought," she continued, her voice growing steadier, "what's life without a little chaos, right? And lucky for me, you're just as explosive as I am." Her words brought a smile to your lips, and you reached up to brush a strand of blue hair from her face. "Guess we make a pretty good match then, huh?"
She grinned, her manic energy shining through even in this quiet moment. "The best, Sugar." As the adrenaline from earlier began to fade, you let yourself sink into the warmth of her embrace, her steady presence grounding you. Despite the chaos that always seemed to follow Jinx, moments like this reminded you why you'd fallen for her in the first place.
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themindelectricdemo4 · 2 years ago
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Okay sorry I thought my heart fucking exploded this morning and I literally felt it was swish around and shit oh yeah did I forget to mention I haven't slept in 2 full days and eaten in 24 (this has since been fixed)
#so i went to urgent care with these symptoms ive never felt before in my life#shit that is beyond my anxiety i know my anxiety and it literally happened after i started taking my increased dose of medication#doctor tells me the medication change is a coincidence. its my anxiety and i need to take a walk!#i dont think! i have had a breakdown so serious in awhile and honwstly it was so scary that i kinda forget it all already#i just kept crying and laughing like oh this is.how im gonna get treated for the rest of my life arent i#its my anxiety. its my depression#ill come in with a genuine fucking problem one day and get it blowed off and die#fuck!#i have to wonder what they thought when i left i was acting like a fuckin looney and like my nanas taking me past the nurses desks#and tbeyre staring at me with their thousand beady eyes and im trying to stifle cryong and leaughter#like wow.#i wouldve believe stress increase more than its just my FICKINN anxiety#i brpyght in a list of 24 symptoms i wrote down and theyre just all from anxiety#ueah like my fucking. EYES DILATING TO THE SIZES OF SAUCERS. anxiety. are. you. kidding me#you know maybe it was my anxiety but holy fuck ur just glnna stand there over me and be like take a walk kid ^_^ jt'll stop your#panic attack? i guess thats what i had. idk. i didnt even get any sort of theory on it was#she was gonna do an ekg but i refused even after her insisting because i judt wanted to escape so bad#she just kinda fuckin double tripled whammer there!#1. blames all of my problems on anxiety#with no other way it could be anything else [fancier way of saying youre making it all up#2. she goes on about how i need to find the right batch of meds. lady ive been doing that for 6 years now.#im doing spravato which is a fucling last ditch antidepressant becaise ive tried everything else#but these people who just dont get it like to make it seem i havent even made an effort#ive used dozens of meds#dozens. it terrifies me. what the fuck am i injecting into my body#anyways i lost my train of my tnought yag#back to regular schwdulaedd queue posting (idk whem ill start making new ones we will see)
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nonranghaes · 9 months ago
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heads up! food mentions + mentions of being engaged/marriage in future
when mingyu's name pops up on your phone, you aren't surprised int he slightest. you know your fiance well enough to know that he's about to complain, too: its your day off. you shouldn't be getting up early to dote on him, even though its his day. so you swipe a finger across the screen and continue to cook your own lunch.
"happy birthday--"
"you peeled the eggs..." oh, how you can hear how hard he's pouting at you right now. "honey, you didn't have to..."
you snort, not even bothering to fight back a smile. you're alone (save for the puppy that keeps pressing her little cold nose against your ankles every so often), you don't have to hide how amused your pouty boyfriend makes you. "it's your birthday," you say, "i had to."
"the entire lunch is cute, though!" you have to wonder if he's complaining at his desk or if he stepped out. it's not like his coworkers don't know how pouty he gets when it comes to you spoiling him (the same way they know you're the same way when he spoils you). he sighs a moment later, settling into a comfortable sense of bliss. "you're too sweet to me..."
"mingyu, you literally whipped up something far fancier for my birthday." you catch yourself pouting. "did you see my note?"
"of course i saw your note!" you nearly laugh this time. this man is definitely pouting still, and you think you heard wonwoo's deep chuckle. "it was cute, too..."
you hear him moving, though, and the sound of a door opening and closing a moment later.
"i'm still going out with the guys after work, but..."
"but?" you're smiling.
a quiet groan. "do i have to say it? it feels mean to say it." when you don't respond, he sighs. "i wish i was coming home to you."
all you can do is snort in laughter. how cute. tall and handsome as he is, he's still the sweetest man you've ever been with. "i'll still be here later," you say. "happy birthday, my mingyu."
he's quiet for a minute. "can you say what you wrote down?" you can only imagine how those pretty eyes would be twinkling at you right now, that handsome smile... "please?"
you smile to yourself, and straighten up. "happy birthday, my soon-to-be husband. i can't wait to marry you."
he lets out this blissful sigh, and you hear the sound of him hitting the wall with his back or shoulder--nothing too hard, but enough to tell you that you've made him weak in the knees. "i love you," he says after a moment. "i can't wait to marry you, too."
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authorhjk1 · 2 months ago
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Idk if you saw but Yuri of SNSD posted a bikini pic, hoping we can get a sunbae series out of that or just a quickie one shot? She’s driving me nuts lol.
Shore leave
(Kwon Yuri X Julie X Belle X Natty X Haneul X Male Reader)
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"Captain!"
You tear your eyes off the controls and turn around. Your XO is standing behind you.
"We've just reported back that our mission was a success. We will enter Honolulu Harbor within twenty minutes."
"Prepare to surface the boat."
"Aye, captain."
Jackson turns to his left.
"Chief of the Watch, blow main ballast tanks!"
The chief of Watch replies.
"Blow main ballast tanks, aye. Blowing main ballast tanks."
You start to walk towards the captain's cabin to finish your report. There is no need for you to be standing around the control room. The thirty man crew can do this while asleep.
"All ahead one-third, surface!"
"Raising the planes!"
"Clear the baffles!"
Opening the door, you look back into the control room. Jackson is standing at its center, overlooking everyone's actions.
"Periscope raised."
The man behind him, Miller, is making sure that it's free to surface.
"Surface is clear!"
You step inside and close the door behind you.
"Surface! Surface! Surface!"
Jackson's command is the last you hear as your submarine is about to see daylight once more.
Stepping foot on land feels odd after forty days underwater. You try to walk as normal as possible, while your crew follows you off the boat. A group of soldiers walk in your direction.
"Captain."
The man salutes you and you do the same.
"Major."
He extends his hand for you to shake.
"Happy birthday, old man."
"Thank you."
You laugh, happy to see him again for the first time in years.
"You and your crew deserve some rest while you're here."
He hands you a couple black cards, which look like key cards to hotel rooms.
"You should stay at a fancier place than the barracks. Order from the lieutenant colonel."
"I appreciate it. Please give him my thanks."
"I will. Now get out of here."
The two of you pat each other's shoulder, before you keep walking.
"Skipper."
You acknowledge lieutenant Kang's presence. The young man is barely 22 years old, but his career has been impressive so far. The worst thing about him? He found out that you used to listen to kpop.
"Have you talked to the major yet, sir?"
"I did."
The two of you walk in silence, while the crew walks after you, until Kang can't hold it in anymore.
"Did he give me permission to-"
"He did. But you have to behave yourself, lieutenant. No drinking, no fights, or any other way to get yourself into trouble."
You know that he has a short temper. But you trust him not abuse your trust.
"Everyone is on leave. And you're allowed to go to their concert."
"Thank you, sir."
You sigh as you reach the car that the major has left for you. Most of your men will head to the barracks. You, Jackson and Miller all got a room at a hotel, being the highest ranking officers on board. And you're letting the young lieutenant tag along.
After checking in, you decided to head to the hotel's pool. Being trapped in a steel cage several miles underwater with thirty men can get on your nerves. And since it's your birthday, you're more than happy to relax and clean your body. Although the number one reason to why you're not in your room, taking a well deserved nap, are the women. You don't remember the last time you talked with a woman for over ten minutes within almost a year. Living in your barracks, training younger soldiers and going on missions that take more than a month, don't leave you with a lot of free time. And the last months had been stressful and draining.
You realize that there aren't many empty deck chairs left as you make your way through the rather crowded area around the pool.
"Skipper!"
You turn your head to see Jackson, who is already sitting on one of the chairs. Miller is sitting to his left, while one on the right still seems to be empty. Skipper is usually not the term captains are addressed with, and some would tell them to shut the hell up, but you're easygoing. At least on land, when you're not on a mission. As long as your men know that you're in charge, you don't really care what they call you.
"Well, you guys came out here really quick."
"Forty days. I need some sun, sir."
You smirk at Miller's complaint, before getting comfortable on the empty chair.
"Do you know how long we have, until we get going again?"
You shake your head at Jackson's question.
"I don't. But I know what our next mission is about."
The two men don't ask for more information, knowing full well that you're not gonna tell them in a public area like this one.
"Let's hope we can relax a little longer than last time."
"Agreed."
You close your eyes, while you listen to the two men chatting.
"I like it here. The weather is nice."
"Just the weather?"
When you open your eyes again, you realize that you've fallen asleep. Quickly looking to your left, you don't see Miller or Jackson.
"Bastards."
You mumble, knowing what they're up to. The three of you have been become good friends over the years. It would surprise you, if they weren't out and about right now, looking for a bar to take you to later today.
"Excuse me?"
You turn to your right, only now realizing that someone is sitting there.
Her face is hidden by her bucket hat and her sunglasses. But it's not her face you're focused on right now anyway. Your eyes quickly scan her barely clothed body. Her white bikini matches the bucket hat. Even without seeing her face, you can tell how beautiful she is.
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"I apologize. I wasn't talking to you. I just realized that my friends ran off without me."
"Those are some great friends you have."
"Well, I can't blame them. I already overheard them talking about a party this morning."
"Oh a party? What's to celebrate?"
"It's my birthday today."
"Congratulations. I hope you have a great year."
"Thank you. It would already improve my year quite a lot, if I knew your name."
You see her chuckle at your attempt to flirt with her. She hesitates for a moment, before she answers.
"Yuri. Kwon Yuri."
"Nice to meet you."
You reach out your hand and she shakes it as you tell her your name.
Hers does sounds familiar, but you can't really tell.
"Are you here on vacation as well?"
You shake your head at her question.
"Not exactly. Me and my crew are just having a shore leave, while we wait for our next mission."
"Oh, you're in the military?"
"I am. Navy."
"Oh, that's so cool. Do you work on one of those big ships that are lying in the harbor nearby? I walked past them yesterday."
"No, I'm the captain of a submarine. We only got here a couple hours ago."
"Submarine? You don't hear that everyday."
You try to steer the conversation in another direction. There isn't much to talk about when it comes to your job anyways. At least not something you're allowed to talk about.
"So you're here on vacation?"
You haven't had the pleasure of sleeping with a woman for way too long. And you have to admit it's getting harder to restrain yourself. If your lucky and Yuri is down for something more than just talking...
"I am. I've been working a lot recently and thought I would take a break, now that my project is done."
"Your project?"
"I'm an actress."
"I'm actually not surprised to hear that. It would be a shame if someone beautiful like you didn't show her face on TV."
You bite your lip, knowing that you're going a little fast here. But if this the opportunity you were hoping for, you're definitely going to take it.
"Thank you. Although I like to think that I got this far because of my skills. Not because I'm pretty."
You nod in understanding.
"That's true. Have I seen you in anything? Or have you just started acting?"
"I've been doing this for a while, but I doubt you've seen me before."
"Okay, then. What genre do you usually do? Action? Romance?"
"I played a love interest of the male lead for my last project."
"Damn. Now I'm jealous of the guy who played him."
Yuri laughs, covering her mouth with her hand.
"You can't keep complementing me like this."
"Why not? I haven't seen a woman in over a month. I have to get everything out of my system at some point."
"Well, there are a lot of beautiful women here. I think you're being a little unjust by only giving me your attention."
Her smile tells you that she doesn't really mind at all. You make a point of looking around the area and the pool.
"Nope. I think I'm talking with the most beautiful woman here, right now."
"You can't stop, can you?"
Her amused smile makes you smile too.
"Like I said, I need someone to let this all out on."
You didn't expect Yuri to slightly bite her lip at your words. And then you realize that one could take your words in a different way.
"You really seem to be in need of some.... release."
You clear your throat.
"But you can keep going of course."
Yuri takes off her sunglasses and now smiles at you with her eyes as well. You already knew she was beautiful, but this is on another level. At the same time, you do feel like you've seen her before. Maybe in a movie?
"It's not like I don't like it..."
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"I need more."
Yuri gives you a happy and proud smile, before you capture her lips once more. You pin her against your hotel room's door. The two of you engage in another kiss. It's filled with passion and lust. You've been waiting for this for months. You don't know the last time Yuri got off. But judging from how hard she is kissing you back, you guess that it has been a while for her too. Or she's just turned on as hell.
Your hands leave her waist and start to explore her exposed skin. Yuri yanks off her bucket hat and throws it behind you. Her hair is a little more messy now as her own hands roam your body. While one of yours trails along the strings of her bikini towards the knots on her back, one of hers uses a finger and slowly travels down your spine, giving you goosebumps. Your second hand is lazily drawing circles on her flat midriff before it playfully tugs at the strings right beneath her chest. Her other hand mirrors your circles, but on your chest. You can feel her paying extra attention to your large tattoo, which she looked at earlier a little too long.
While you keep your lips locked with hers, you start to slowly undo Yuri's knots on her back. She draws along the lines of your tattoo. A big anchor. An equally sized dragon is winding itself around it.
Once you are finished with the first knot, you feel Yuri's breath shake a little as you both give each other a second to breathe. But soon, you're back at it again. Her hand, previously on your back, is now on your hip as she plays with the waistband of your trunks. Another knot follows the first.
You are getting bolder, now that she allowed you to undo her bikini. You let your hands travel along her waist and up to her chest. Yuri breaks the kiss as she feels your hands over her top. You give her tits a squeeze, making Yuri let out a moan. She has a smile on her face again, her arms now loosely placed on your shoulders. Her head slowly rolls back as you keep kneading her soft mounds.
"Your hands feel great. I love it."
Yuri now lets her own travel down your figure, until they're reach your trunks once more. You reach behind her and finally undo her top, before slowly taking it off her. Taking in the sight of her tits, you stay in place for a moment. But then you feel Yuri undo the tie on the front of your boxers agonizingly slow. You finally look into her eyes. She stares back at you as her fingers do their work.
Once she is done, you feel her thumbs glide between your skin and the waistband. Slowly she pulls them down. Around halfway past your hips, your trunks fall to the floor on their own. Yuri has a satisfied smile on her face as she looks down on you.
After you'd taken off her bottoms too, there wasn't much time or need for foreplay. You led Yuri to your bed, where you lied down and had her lie on top of you. Now you're enjoying yourself, tasting her delicious pussy, while you feel her soft lips glide up and down on your shaft. The position enables you to freely do with her lower half what you want to. You knead her full cheeks and pull them apart occasionally, while you let your tongue glide along her labia, before sucking on her clit. Yuri's moans are almost silenced by your dick in her mouth, which sends shivers up your spine. You feel her hands on your thighs and as she picks up the pace, it almost seems like she is fucking her face onto your cock. Just the thought of that makes you put in even more effort.
Soon, they both of you have made a mess of each other. You can't help but groan into her pussy, whenever Yuri takes you as deep as she can. And Yuri moans and sometimes let's her fingernails glide over your thighs, whenever you let your tongue flick against her clit.
When you both feel the increasing need to finally be as intimate as possible, Yuri momentarily gets off you, before turning around. Her face gets closer to yours once more as she sinks herself down on you. Her soft mounds press against your chest, you feel her nipples rub against your skin. But that's not the best part. The best part is the way Yuri's tight snatch slowly takes you inside. It leaves you breathing a little faster, her wet lips wrapping themselves around your shaft as tight as possible. A satisfied smile lingers on Yuri's lips as she leans down to kiss yours. She is now lying flat on top of you. Her hands are playing with your hair, while yours rest on her lower back, occasionally darting out to give one of her cheeks a playful squeeze.
The two of you take it slow, enjoying each other's warmth and closeness. You were afraid you wouldn't last long at first, but the slow love making enables you to go longer than you expected. Yuri barely moves on top of you, slightly circling her hips, making your cock move inside of her. The two of you share one kiss after another. Her fingers comb through your hair. And she gives it a slight tug, whenever you hit the right spot inside of her. Yuri's breasts are pressed against your chest, her nipples rubbing against your skin.
Having your hands on her cheeks, you carefully start to move her back and forth. It brings more motion into the two of you. Yuri's lips find yours once more, while she lets out a moan, feeling her pussy glide along your cock. The more you make her move, the better it feels for the both of you. Your fingers begin to dig into her flesh and Yuri leaves a bite on your skin here and there. Looking up at her, you see her eyes are only half open, her eyelids heavy with pleasure.
"Oh my god."
Yuri lets out a loud sigh into your neck. It's the first time she spoke, since she took you inside. You feel her moving on her own now, so you let your hands travel along her back. Her hair is covering the both of you right now, serving as a makeshift curtain as it blocks out the sunlight.
Closing your eyes, you just enjoy the moment. How Yuri moves herself along your body on top of you. How her pussy glides along your shaft, her wet walls squeezing every inch. How her nipples move over your skin. How her moans reach your ear, whenever she doesn't lock her lips with yours.
"Yuri..."
You took too long. Focusing on the moment, feeling this gorgeous woman on top of you. You realize there is no turning back, the moment you open your eyes. Yuri bites her lower lip, looking down on you. She nods, giving you permission to finish what the two of you started.
You quickly reach down her back, your arms wrapping around her lower back, right above her ass. Instinctively, you let your legs slip out from underneath her and raise them, burying your heels into the mattress.
"Oh wow."
Yuri lets out a gasp. To her it feels like you just gained another inch. You start to fuck her now. A little faster than she moved before. Her arms now lying next to your shoulders, supporting her weight as she pushes her upper body higher. You can't stop yourself. Taking in the sight of her beautiful tits right in front of you, you fuck Yuri harder. She can't help but smile down on you, flattered by the way you seem to love every single part of her body.
"Yuri..."
You sigh her name once more. Yuri let's out a moan herself a moment later. She feels your cock twitching inside of her. You raise your hips a little higher, which makes you lift hers too. More and more of your cum invades Yuri's tight cavern, making her head sink onto yours once more.
The two of you stay in place, even after both of you have calmed down. Yuri is still lying on top of you. She has moved a little further down though to be able to comfortably place her head on your chest. Her toned midriff is pressed against your cock. You feel her fingers trace over your tattoo once more.
"You know...."
Yuri starts to talk after a while.
"My room is two floors higher. 5003. Just in case you..."
You crack a smile, your hand slowly stroking her hair.
"I will keep that in mind."
"Are you telling me that everyone is coming?"
You sigh, already knowing that this night will not end well. You expected the three guys to throw you a low profile party at a bar. Just the four of you.
"Yes, everyone. Plus, everyone else who is at the barracks and gets to go out tonight."
"Oh that's just great. How many men is that?"
Miller shrugs his shoulders.
"Fifty?"
You give him a disapproving glare. Now you wish you'd have stayed longer in bed with Yuri.
"Oh come on. They all love you. You know you have a reputation, right? No failed mission? Highest success rate?"
"So?"
Miller leads you down a long street which is taking you further to the beach.
"That doesn't mean I have to like that you invited fifty people."
"Relax, skipper."
He gives you a pat on the shoulder as you two reach the bar the three of them found earlier today. Looking to your right, you see the sunset. The sea is coloured in a beautiful orange. You'd have loved to take a moment and take in the view. You haven't seen a sunset in over a month. But Miller destroys your plan by opening the door. Music and shouts invade your ears. You walk inside, followed by Jackson, Miller and Kang. Most of the tables, around 10, are filled by men in uniforms, while two are occupied by other guests. One group looks like tourists, while the other makes you look at four gorgeous faces. Even after you were able to have sex with Yuri, you can't help but glance at the four girls a second longer. They all look significantly younger than you, with the girl on the far right looking like she just got fresh out of high school.
"Captain!"
One of the men spotted you and is now standing up. The laughter and chatter dies down. The other soldiers follow his example. You wait until everyone is standing. You hear Miller's voice behind you.
"Told you. Reputation."
You sigh as you look around. It seems like some of the men already had a couple of drinks.
"At ease."
As everyone sits back down, you notice how the group of tourists and the four girls all look very surprised by what's going on.
Suddenly, you hear Jackson groan in annoyance and you quickly realize why. There aren't any empty seats. Or rather, the only empty seats left are the ones at the table of the four girls. You see Miller stepping towards the nearest table, probably to get you a place to sit, but you grab his shoulder.
"It's fine. I was hoping for a relaxed night anyway."
The four of you walk through the bar and past some of the tables. Some of the men greet you individually, raising their glasses, or congratulating you.
"Hi. Are these empty, or are you waiting for someone?"
"No, they're empty. Please."
One of the girls spoke and is now gesturing towards the empty seats. You walk around the table and sit against the wall, next to the girl who looks the youngest. Jackson joins you on the bench, while the other two sit opposite from you.
You take one more look around the table. You can tell the girls are a little shy to restart their conversation now. The girl next to the youngest tugs her short black hair behind her ear, before taking a sip of her drink.
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The girl across from her is the one who invited the four of you to sit down. You can't help but stare at her lips for a moment as she finally says something to the girl next to her. You can't understand it, but it sounds like Korean.
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The girl she is speaking to is sitting next to Miller. She looks cute. Not as cute as the girl next you, but still kinda adorable. She seems to answer the other girl, before she takes out her phone.
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When the waitress reaches your table, the four of you order. The girls seem to have picked up their conversation. At one point it looks like the girl next to you asked a question. A question none of them seems to have the answer too. You're surprised when Kang suddenly says something in Korean. You've noticed that he has been unusually quiet this entire time. You can't blame him. The four girls are stunning. But somehow it seems like something else has held him back so far.
The girls are surprised by Kangs answer. They probably didn't expect him to understand them.
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Haneul's cheeks burn red with embarrassment. Why is he only saying now that he knows Korean? Her worried face glances at the man next to her. The man who seems to be in charge. She didn't expect anyone to understand her, apart from her members, when she admitted she found him hot, barely four minutes ago.
She was already afraid that he had caught her glancing at him from time to time. But now, she has to worry that his friend will tell him what she said. Haneul bows her head and thanks the man who spoke Korean, hoping he won't say anything. The other girls already teased her enough about her confession.
When the waitress comes back and placed the drinks in front of the soldiers, Haneul can feel how the man next to her relaxes further. He spreads his legs wider to get more comfortable. Now hers touch his. She can't help but bit her lip at the seemingly innocent connection. She isn't as bold as Julie or Natty, who would've placed their hands on his thigh and flirted with him. She hates herself for that. Haneul knows she needs to at least practice. Talking to her fans is easy. So why can't she do that with strangers as well?
"I'm surprised you know Korean."
Haneul looks up at Julie's words, which were directed at the man who answered her question.
"My parents are Korean. It's like my first language."
"Ah, that's cool."
"I have to admit, I'm a fan of you, girls. I'm going to the concert tomorrow."
"Oh, that's amazing."
Natty seems genuinely happy. While the three girls deepen the conversation with their fan, Haneul glances at the man next to her once more.
"Oh, fuck!"
Her inner self screams when he suddenly locks eyes with her. Haneul doesn't know if she should look away or not. But he smiles at her. And turns a little towards her.
"What's your name?"
"I'm Haneul."
Haneul gives you one of the cutest smiles you've ever seen. And the words slip out of your mouth, before you can think about them.
"You have a beautiful smile."
As the night deepens, you step outside, feeling the cold night air on your face. Haneul is walking out behind you. After her come Jackson, Miller and Kang and the other girls. It was one of them, Julie if you remember correctly, who suggested all of you should go for a walk on the beach.
You got to know all four girls quite well, who seem to be in a kpop group called kiss of life. They are all charming and beautiful, but it seems like you and Haneul have hit it off very well.
The two of you continue to talk as you walk past the palm trees and finally reach the sand.
"This is so beautiful."
Haneul can't fight the urge to take a couple of pictures of the star glazed night sky.
"It is."
You look at her and Haneul seems to catch on as she lowers her phone and turns to you. Her shy smile makes you chuckle, before you focus back on the stars.
"Haneul... Your name means sky, right?"
She looks at you in surprise.
"You speak Korean?"
"A little."
"Oh, you should've told me earlier."
You see her biting her lip and her cheeks slightly becoming darker. Is she embarrassed about something?
You hear laughter behind you. The two of you turn around. You roll your eyes as you watch Miller kissing one of the girls.
Haneul lets out a gasp as she sees Julie and one of the soldiers exchange a kiss. His hands are on her waist and Julie's are on his shoulders. Haneul is embarrassed, but at the same time, she is glancing at you, wondering how it would feel like to kiss you. Then she sees Natty and your other friend laugh together, arms locked. She watches how he slowly leans down, capturing the Thai girl's lips with his own.
You can tell Haneul has gotten more nervous over the last ten seconds.
"We don't need to do what they're doing, if it makes you uncomfortable."
"Huh?"
Haneul turns to you, her eyes wide open. You hesitate, but it seems like she does want you to kiss her. You place a hand on her shoulder and eventually lower it a little. Further and further, until you reach her small waist. Haneul's eyes are glued to yours the whole time. But you catch them darting down to your lips from time to time.
Once your hand is on her waist, you pull her closer. You press her body against your own and you can feel her perky tits rub against your body, right underneath your chest. Leaning down, you see Haneul closing her eyes.
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She seems so different from Yuri. Maybe it's her age or inexperience. But it doesn't make her any less attractive.
Your lips meet and you have to admit that Haneul's lips feel softer than you thought they would. You let your hand slowly wander over her back as you deepen the kiss. Haneul melts into you, her own hands pulling slightly at your shirt.
"Look at those two lovebirds."
Your kiss is interrupted by Julie's cheeky remark. You realize that you and Haneul have been standing like this more than a couple of seconds. For you, it felt like a short moment. But the other six are all looking at you.
"We are waiting for your answer, skipper."
"For what?"
You seem to have missed the question. A proud but shy smile appears on Haneul's face.
"Are you okay with all of us heading to the nearest hotel?"
You wonder why they're asking. They could just take off. It's not like they're on duty or something. But then you catch how Natty is casually leaning against Jackson, while her hand seems to be placed on Miller's back. While Kang, despite having his hands on Belle's waist, seems to exchange a knowing smile with Julie.
Their plan quickly dawns on you and you look down at Haneul. By now, you're pretty sure that Haneul wouldn't oppose to a night together. But, even if you have to share, the idea of being able to be with all four of them almost makes your head spin.
"What do you say?"
Despite the darkness, Haneul's cheek are laced with a darker red than ever before.
"I-I wouldn't mind."
The way to the hotel room was uneventful. You could tell Haneul was still nervous, but you managed to calm her down by taking her hand in yours while you walked. The receptionist raised an eyebrow when you told her all eight of you would share a room for the night. But she didn't say anything and just gave you the key card to a slightly bigger room.
Now you sit on the edge of the bed, looking down on Haneul. She is fumbling around with your belt. Miller is sitting on your left with Julie kneeling in front of him. The other four are on the other side of the bed behind you.
You can't help but watch as Julie opens her mouth and takes Miller's cock into her mouth. She is definitely more experienced than Haneul, who only got your pants off now. You catch her hesitating, but a moment later, she pulls your boxers down as well. Her wide open eyes are focused on your cock. She slowly opens her mouth as well. Reaching out, you take her cheek in your hand, encouraging her. Haneul's eyes smile up at you as her pretty lips close around your tip.
Your head rolls back as you feel her tongue moving around. You're so glad you and Yuri had fun earlier today. Otherwise, Haneul's cute face would've made you cum right there.
She lets her tongue dance around for a moment, before pressing it underneath your cock. You feel her taking more of you inside her mouth. On instinct, your hand moves up to the top of her head. You can't help but stroke her hair as Haneul does her best to pleasure you.
"Good girl."
You groan, when you feel her sucking on your cock properly. You expected her to have no experience at all. But it seems like Haneul does know just enough.
You glance to your left once more as you hear someone choking. Julie has placed her hands flat on Miller's thighs and is almost face fucking herself onto his cock.
Haneul can feel that you got harder by looking at those two. She takes a deep breath and then lets her lips glide further down your shaft. The younger girl can't compete with Julie, but you're more than happy with what she is doing. You reach behind her to hold her hair back, focusing only on Haneul.
"You're doing great."
You can't help but praise her. She looks so cute, while she sucks you off.
Haneul places her hands on your thighs as well and looks up at you. Almost as if she's asking for permission. You nod, curious to see what she's going to do.
"Damn."
You groan when you feel her throat tighten around you as she pushes her head down further. She quickly begins to cough and choke. Haneul's spit starts to leave her mouth. It gets all over your cock, your lap, her shirt and her thighs. But she tries to keep going, bobbing her head up and down.
"Don't close your mouth, open it wide."
You almost jump when you hear Julie's voice right next to you. She is kneeling next to Haneul, her arm stretched out as she keeps jerking off Miller's wet cock.
Haneul retreats, letting your own cock fall out of her mouth.
"Relax your throat when you first take all of it. It makes it easier."
Haneul listens closely to Julie's words.
"Like this."
Your hands dig into the sheets as Julie suddenly decides to deepthroat you. You can feel how she is forcing her jaw open wide enough to take all of you inside. Haneul watches in awe as the other girl bobs her head up and down. Julie doesn't even choke this time, her throat relaxed enough to take it all.
You notice how she still doesn't stop stroking Miller's cock. From behind you, you hear Jackson groan something.
You have to distract yourself like this, not wanting to cum early. Julie is doing an amazing job and now backs away to give Haneul another chance.
The younger girl tries to imitate Julie and takes most of your cock inside her mouth at once. You feel how she is able to take more now, her throat almost greedily sucking on your cock.
"That's it."
Julie smiles at her, before letting go of Miller's cock. She spits into her hand and wraps it around his length once more, making sure her saliva is all over shaft.
Haneul has now lifted her once more, letting her lips glide along your length.
"You're doing great."
Julie pats the back of Haneul's head. When she looks up at you, the older girl gives you a seductive wink. Before you can react, Julie pushes Haneul's head down, deep into your lap.
"Take it all, baby."
Her voice is still sweet and carrying, but her hand on Haneul's back makes the younger girl choke and gag.
And then, Julie uses Haneul's mouth to jerk you off. She lifts her head up and down, making her lips glide along your cock.
You barely notice that Miller is now standing next to Julie. She's sucking him off once more, but making sure she is fucking Haneul's face onto your cock at a steady pace.
You feel bad for Haneul. But at the same time, you can barely hold it together. Her tight throat just feels so damn amazing. The way her whole mouth almost takes in all your cock. The way her saliva gets everywhere. The way she gags whenever your tip hits the back of her throat.
You sigh in relief when Julie lets go off Haneul's head and focuses back on Miller. Haneul takes you in deep a couple of times more, before she finally backs away. Her big eyes and the strings of her saliva connecting her lips with your cock make her look so cute but sexy at the same time.
You reach out and wipe the spit off her lips. To your surprise, Haneul sucks on your thumb in return.
"Get on the bed."
You guide her to her feet and make her lie on her back. She watches you as you now undo her shorts. Glancing behind her, you can see how Natty is giving Jackson a titjob, while Belle is giving Kang head too.
But you focus back on Haneul as you pull her pants off of her.
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You push the small piece of fabric that is covering her pussy to the side, exposing her snatch.
Haneul gasps when she feels your lips touch her thighs. She expected you to head straight for her core, but you tease first. It only takes you a couple of kisses, before her eyes silently beg for you to pay attention to her pussy.
You take both her thighs in your hands, spreading them apart so you have enough room. You kiss her right next to her lower lips, making her sigh in frustration. When you finally do let your tongue glide along her lips, Haneul's head rolls back. Her eyes close and her hands grab the sheets as you begin to eat her out.
The young girl's moans echo through the room. She occasionally lets out a small squeal or sigh whenever you suck on her clit. By now, one hand has moved to your head as she is slightly pulling at your hair, trying to get your tongue deeper inside of her. The other covers her mouth as Haneul tries to reduce the volume of her moans. She doesn't want to be the loudest in the room. Embarrassment is still colouring her cheeks.
But she doesn't have to worry much, when she hears Julie moaning shamelessly next to her. Miller is lying next to Haneul on his back, while Julie is riding his face. The older girl throws her head back and grinds against him, while his hands hold her waist.
Haneul almost jumps when Natty's face suddenly appears above her head. Jackson made her get on all fours on the bed and is now eating her out from behind. Natty basically moans into Haneul's face. The younger girl can't help herself. The Thai girl just looks so amazingly hot like that. She reaches upward with her free hand. Natty gladly follows Haneul's guidance and lowers her head. The two girls share one deep kiss after another.
As they both loose themselves in the sea of pleasure, Natty's limps grow weak. She gets lower and lower as they break their kiss. Finally, Natty is almost lying on top of Haneul. The younger girl's face meets Jackson's. She hesitates, but eventually she captures his lips with her own. She can taste Natty's juices.
You do the same with the Thai girl. You share a deep kiss with her, while she slowly inserts a finger into Haneul's pussy. The younger girl moans louder now, but you pull away and stand up. Natty follows your movements and invitingly opens her mouth. You push your cock past her lips.
Looking past her, you see that Jackson is doing the same with Haneul. While the two girls lie on top of each other, they give the two of you head.
"Damn."
You groan, acknowledging how skilled Natty is. She definitely did this more often than Haneul. You feel her tongue doing all kinds of tricks as she keeps her lips sealed around your length. You place a hand on top of her head and give her mouth shallow thrusts.
As you use Natty's mouth, you watch Julie, who keeps riding Miller's face. Seems like she got a hold of the lieutenant as well. Kang is standing on the bed, right in front of her. One of Julie's hands is wrapped around his length, while her lips are sealed around his shaft as well. Her other hand is entangled in Miller's hair.
Wait, where is Belle?
She catches your eye as she slowly crawls over the bed towards you. Just when she's about to reach you, you reach for her face, pulling her up by her chin. Belle smiles at you, before the two of you share a kiss. It doesn't last long, because Belle now reaches down to have a taste of your cock as well.
Natty starts to moan all over your cock when Jackson slowly pushes his cock inside of her. You watch her eyes roll as she suddenly finds herself trapped between the two of you. When Jackson pushes forward, he basically makes her take you down her throat. Belle makes sure that even your base is cared for, while Natty becomes helpless.
Belle suddenly gasps in surprise when Miller reaches around her waist and pulls her body towards him. Julie is already an all fours while Kang fucks her from behind. The older man now puts Belle into the same position. But instead of fucking her, you catch how he starts to eat her ass. The younger girl quickly turns into a moaning mess. Her and Julie both exchange one kiss after another.
Looking down on yourself again, you notice how Natty is starting to drool all over Haneul's beautiful pussy. It now looks so wet and so good, you can't help yourself. You almost have to push Natty's head off your cock for her to leave you alone. Now her moans are louder. You reach down and place two fingers on Haneul's clit. You feel her jump at the sudden touch, but when you start playing with her, you hear her moan as well.
"Damn, Natty. Haneul is such a tight girl."
"Yeah, she is. Such a tight cunt."
You make Natty watch as you slowly penetrate Haneul's glistening folds. The older girl keeps drooling all over the younger girl's pussy, coating your cock in her saliva as well.
"Does she feel good for you? Is she being a-"
A particularly hard thrust leaves Natty speechless for a moment.
"Is-Is she being a good little girl for you?"
"Yes, she is."
You take a hold of Natty's chin and make her look up at you.
"You like it when your friend is a slut?"
She eagerly nods, another moan leaving her mouth.
"Do you want to see how I use her tight pussy like a fleshlight?"
You talk a little louder, making sure Haneul can mentally prepare herself.
"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck her like the slut she is."
As Natty talks, you feel Haneul's legs close around you in conformation. It seems like the younger girl has lost all of her shyness by now.
You properly take a hold of her thighs and start to fuck Haneul's pussy. A moment later, you hear a string of moans and whines leave her lips. You watch how Jackson momentarily pulls out of Natty and thrusts down into Haneul's wide open mouth. You doubt the young girl has ever had two cocks inside of her at once. The two of you alternate between both of their mouths and pussies, turning the two of them into begging messes.
"Are you really going to-Oh god!"
You glance to your right as you hear a loud yelp. Belle is now on top of Miller, who is sitting on the bed. Her feet are planted on his thighs, her hands are holding onto his wrists. His own hands are on her waist.
"You're so big, oh god!"
He makes Belle take his cock into her ass. Slowly at first, before he starts to pick up the pace a little. You can't help but notice how good her pussy looks as well. Not as good as Haneul's to be honest though.
You don't really remember how you ended up in this position. After Haneul, you do remember being inside of Julie and the Belle. Now, you're lying on the bed and Haneul is on top of you. She's facing you, her hands on your chest, supporting her weight. To your left, the other three couples have gotten into the same position. The three guys and you are all lying down, while the four girls are each riding someone. At some point, the four of them all got into the same rhythm. They all lift themselves upwards and then impale themselves on their partner below at the same time.
"I-I think I'm gonna...."
Haneul's voice gets cut off when your cock is finally too much for her. You could tell she's kept it in for a while now, just to be on the same level as the other three. But now she finally becomes undone, shaking on top of you. Her snug pussy twitching around your cock. You hold onto her waist, making sure she doesn't fall down.
The next one to go is Belle. She is riding Jackson, who's lying next to you. With a loud gasp, she joins Haneul in her orgasmic state. When Haneul finally calms down, she looks at you.
"I-I need a break."
You nod, noticing that she really is out of breath. You help her with climbing off of you. As Haneul lies down, you get up. The fact that she just came on top of you has you longing for more. And the way Belle has started to pick up her pace once more, indicates she can take more as well.
Now kneeling behind her, you reach around her body and cup her breasts. Her bounces slow down and you move a little closer. Jackson reaches behind her and pulls Belle's cheeks apart.
"Why are you-"
She gets the answer a second later as she feels your tip push pass the tight ring of her ass.
"Oh! Oh, god! I've never taken this much before!"
You thrust inside of her, making Belle almost fall forward.
Jackson and you start to work together. Whenever you push inside Belle, his hands on her ass push her upwards as well. It makes her take even more of you, while her pussy glides along his shaft. And then you almost pull out of her as you pull her down with you, impaling her on his cock.
"Oh, yes! Ruin me!"
Belle quickly gets into it, the feeling of having two holes filled overwhelming her.
"Fuck, that's so hot."
Julie sighs on your right, who is riding Kang's cock. Next to her is Natty doing the same with Miller. The two guys exchange a look.
"Hey, wait!"
Natty complains, but Miller ignores her. He pushes her off of him and kneels behind Julie. The oldest has a mischievous grin on her face.
"Oh, yes. Give it to me, boys."
She moans loudly when the two of them start to fuck her ass and pussy as well. She doesn't seem to care at all that Natty just lost her own opportunity to feel good.
You motion her to come closer and Natty quickly crawls towards you. After she lies on her back, you hold Belle with only one hand and insert two fingers of your other one into Natty's wet pussy.
All three girls are now moaning together again, while Haneul is still lying on the side. Still recovering.
"Fuck."
You groan into Belle's ear, desperately trying to fight the urge to bite into her naked shoulder. Her ass is just so tight. It feels so good. That tight ring of her muscles keeps squeezing the life out of you, while you feel can feel Jackson's cock inside of her as well.
"Oh my god."
Belle sighs and moans. By now, she has become dead weight. It's up to you and Jackson to move her up and down, while you use her holes. Eventually, her strength leaves Belle's whole body. She collapses on top of Jackson. He's still inside her pussy and now you start to fuck Belle's ass a little faster. You make her body rock back and forth on top of him.
Natty seizes that opportunity and quickly climbs on top of Belle. You hear Jackson groan, you can't tell if it's their combined bodies on top of him, or just Belle's snatch. Either way, you're now able to switch between the two girls.
You pull out of Belle's snug ass and push inside Natty's pussy.
"Oh, yes. Fuck me hard."
The older girl sighs, backing her ass up a little bit more.
"Oh, that's it. You're gonna give us your cum?"
Julie's words push you towards the edge as you feel her hand quickly stroking your cock. The four girls are all kneeling on the floor in a circle, their backs up against each other. The four of you each stand in front of one of them.
Kang is the first to finish. With a loud groan, he cums all over Natty. Her face and her tits are painted waited after only a couple of seconds. Belle is the second one to get hit. Miller unloads all over her face as well, some of his cum hits her hair and Haneul as well.
Julie puts your cock into her mouth as well, urging you on to not leave her hanging. At the same time, Jackson orgasms too, painting Haneul's face. The youngest gasps at the rather unfamiliar feeling. But before she can say anything, Belle already captures her lips with her own. The two girls engage in a messy, cum filled make out session.
You suddenly feel a second pair of lips on your cock. Natty's painted face greats you as she eagerly lets her lips wander along your length.
"Fuck."
You groan, the two girls quickly getting you to the point of no return.
When they realize you're about to cum, they both lean back. They use their hands to push their tits together. Mouths wide open and tongues out. Natty closes her eyes, while Julie looks straight up at you.
You finally finish, painting both of their faces and tits. The sight in front of you almost makes you hard again already as you see the two girls sharing your cum.
You thought your birthday would've already been the highlight of your shore leave. But you're proven wrong, when you wake up the next day to a snap from your new friend.
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utterlyazriel · 1 year ago
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an eternity, my love
eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)
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How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?
When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.
Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.
Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?
You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.
With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.
You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.
Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.
He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.
You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.
After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.
Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.
The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.
And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.
Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.
Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.
You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.
It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.
He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.
Your heart burns.
In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.
It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.
It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.
Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.
Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.
Ruination be damned.
Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.
You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.
Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.
But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.
The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.
An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.
He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.
All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.
It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.
And then, he remembers the pang of fear.
He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.
"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.
You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.
"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.
He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.
Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.
The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.
Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.
Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.
“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.
You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.
“Who says I’m nervous?”
Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."
There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.
"I can feel it.”
Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.
"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.
"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.
Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"
You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.
"Brussels sprouts."
Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.
"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.
"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."
He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.
You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.
The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.
Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.
Firstly, he's terribly quiet.
Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).
With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.
You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.
There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.
He doesn’t touch you.
Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.
His hands reach out but they do not find you.
At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.
Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.
The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.
As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.
Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.
And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.
A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?
Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.
Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.
The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.
It's a decidedly Azriel thing.
He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.
As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.
It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.
So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.
"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."
My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.
It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.
It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.
It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.
You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.
There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.
Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.
Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.
Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.
Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.
"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."
You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.
"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.
You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.
As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.
"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."
The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.
"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."
You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."
Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."
"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."
Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.
"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"
There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.
One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.
"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."
You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.
When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.
"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.
It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.
Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.
Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.
It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?
“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.
“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”
Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.
On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.
Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.
You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.
Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.
And then— then, you see it.
Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.
You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.
It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.
He doesn't touch you.
The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.
His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.
You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.
"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.
"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."
It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.
You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.
You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.
The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.
And like always, you never hear him coming.
"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.
You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.
He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?
His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.
Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?
"Please," He tries his words again.
His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.
"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."
You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.
"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."
Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.
You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.
Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.
All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.
Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.
You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?
You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.
"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.
"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.
"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”
You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.
"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."
Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.
"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."
“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.
"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.
Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.
"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"
"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."
His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.
The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.
You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.
Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.
He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.
Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.
"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"
"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.
But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.
"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.
"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.
"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."
You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.
"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”
Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.
“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.
“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.
“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”
Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.
“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.
“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”
And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.
His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.
It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.
Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.
He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.
When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.
Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.
“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.
“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”
He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.
“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”
Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.
some people i thought might want to be tagged :)
@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares
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lockefanfic · 5 months ago
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City of Light
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The following is Chapter 10 in the Toy series, but it can (mostly) be read on its own. 🙂
15,477 words.
---
Even in the darkness of near-midnight, Paris was still beautiful.
The sparkling lights contrasted sharply against the decades and sometimes centuries-old buildings they illuminated. Even as you flew by them in the hired van, the weight of history was nonetheless impressed upon you by almost every structure you passed on your way to the hotel.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Hirai Momo says, softly, as though she were talking to herself. You turn to find her similarly entranced by Paris’ lights, even as they painted her soft features in blue and white.
“It is,” you agree, as you return to watching large, particularly ornate buildings fly by your window.
“Some of these buildings must be centuries old,” she continues, her voice surprising you with its depth and thoughtfulness. “How many people have been inside them? How many stories have started and ended in their walls? Kind of crazy to think about. Feels like history is right there outside this window, passing us by.”
It was the kind of statement you’d expected from one of the more introspective members of Twice, but admittedly not from Momo, whom you’d assumed didn’t really give much thought to things like the histories of cities and the stories of the people within them. When she turns to give you a look she lets a slim smile play across her lips, as though she were proud of herself for having surprised you the way she did.
“What?” she prods.
“Nothing,” you answer, “It’s just…”
“Just that that was something you’d expect one of the other girls to say? One of the… smarter ones? Mina or Jeongyeon or… Chaeyoung?”
You are taken aback by how forward she was being - your conversations with her over the past few months were casual at best, and rare outside of the bedroom. Truth be told, though, she wasn’t too far off from the truth.
“Well, yes,” you admit.
“Figured,” she says. There is the slightest hint of disappointment in her tone as she turns back towards the glittering lights flying by the vehicle. “You’re not the only one that would think so.”
She doesn’t seem open to continuing the conversation, and so you leave her be. You ponder her words in silence for the rest of the trip, feeling suddenly guilty for having assumed so much about the young woman next to you.
---
The check-in process at the hotel was relatively painless, much to your relief. You’d come to realize that many of the high-end hotels the girls regularly stayed in had staff on hand that were fluent in English, saving you from having to rely on your high-school level French and a translator app.
The elevator you occupied with Momo opens its doors on the fifth floor, where your room was located. The company had splurged on a penthouse suite for Momo, as it often did with its performers. Despite this, the hotel as a whole was still one of the higher-end ones in Paris, and you were looking forward to grabbing some room service and much-needed sleep in a fancier room than you were accustomed to.
“The makeup people will be here early,” you say with a sigh as you grab your wheeled luggage and get ready to vacate the elevator. It was well past midnight now, and you both had a long, important day ahead of yourselves with Momo’s appearance at a fashion show. “I can give you a call around six, make sure you’re awake-”
Momo stops you, her hand grasping your forearm while you are halfway out of the elevator.
“You’re the only manager here,” she says, matter-of-factly. “So you’re all mine for this trip, aren’t you?”
You find a smile on her lips, and you quickly return it. You knew what she meant, both with her words and the look that accompanied it.
Truth be told, you had settled more into the managerial side of your “job” in the past month or two, and this week-long trip and Momo’s appearances at two fashion shows, five days apart, was your first time as the sole on-site manager with one of the girls. While you were still on-call for the girls’ more physical needs, you also knew this trip was an opportunity to really make something of yourself at the company beyond just being entertainment for the girls. As such, you found that you were more focused than usual at making sure it went off without a hitch.
But as serious as you were about making sure the trip went smoothly from a corporate point of view, you weren’t one to turn down an invitation, particularly when it was shaped like Hirai Momo.
“Of course, Momo,” you relent, stepping back into the elevator and hitting the button for the top floor.
---
Jetlag was a bitch, though.
Momo had decided to take a shower after you’d both entered the luxurious penthouse suite - and you were powerless to resist the call of the luxurious, expensive-looking couch that dominated the suite’s living area. A short nap while Momo unpacked and undressed, you thought, just a quick rest for your eyes, then you’d get up, sneak into the shower with her and give her the pounding of a lifetime-
The alarm on your smartwatch jerks you awake four hours later.
You wipe the sleep from your eyes as you groggily swing your legs down from the couch. The light emanating from the open bathroom door informed you of Momo’s presence in it, and so you drag yourself from the soft, warm, comforting couch to check on her.
“Have a good nap?” she says, even before you fully enter the ridiculously large bathroom. She shoots you a small smile in the oversized vanity mirror, and you manage to return it despite the sleep still lingering in the corners of your eyes.
The smile lingers on her lips as she watches you for a moment longer before returning her attention to the bathroom counter. Before her are an array of cosmetics that made up her daily skincare routine, and she fiddles with the small plastic containers and vials, apparently searching for something.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you admit, rubbing your face with both palms as you lean against the bathroom’s doorframe. “I just can’t get any sleep on planes.” Your first-class seats meant you were admittedly more comfortable than you’d ever been on a flight, but your inability to sleep on planes still resulted in fifteen hours of restlessness. Momo, being well-used to such luxuries, slept like a baby, which explained her high energy levels despite dawn being an hour or so away.
“I even left the bathroom and shower door open,” she admits, smile turning sly even as the elusive cosmetic continues to evade her. “Didn’t think you’d miss the invitation.”
The implication underlying her words stir something in you, and you step into the bathroom, drawing close to her. She smells softly like vanilla, and the sweet scent of her still-damp hair finally shakes the last cobwebs of sleep from your brain.
She loosens the neckline of her white bathrobe slightly to dab something against the soft skin of her neck and upper chest. The generous cleavage she reveals is unmissable in the mirror, still moist from the shower. Rivulets of water stream down her perfect, creamy skin. You reach around her torso, placing a hand softly on the knot of her bathrobe.
“Is this another invitation?”
Her gaze remains locked on herself in the mirror as she continues to dab the small cotton pad against the soft skin of her neck, although the smile curls into a mischievous one. You both linger there for a moment in silence - she must’ve taken pleasure in leaving you in suspense - until she finally decides she’d teased you enough. She places the cotton pad back on the counter, finding your gaze in the reflection of the mirror.
Without breaking your gaze, she undoes the bathrobe’s knot at her waist, pulling its folds apart to reveal her nakedness beneath. Round breasts, toned stomach, long, perfect legs - but it’s her eyes that draw you in. Round, full, somewhere between cute and lustful. Irresistible, either way.
You step close, planting your first soft kiss on the newly revealed skin of her neck. Your arms wrap around her body, your fingers finding her flat, toned stomach, and placing your palm flat against it, enjoying the feel of the slightly quickened pace of her breathing at this first intimate touch between you. Her scent, the feel of her skin beneath your palms, the small gasp she makes as you place a kiss behind her ear - it’s all so alluring, so intoxicating.
Her skin is warm, moist beneath your lips and your hands. Beads of water from her shower trace a path down her neck, past the round curves of her naked breasts, and onto the flat plane of her stomach.
“You’re still wet, Momo,” you whisper into her ear. She sighs softly. You drink in the sight of her closing her eyes in the mirror, canting her head to the side slightly to reveal more of her neck to your lips.
“You have no idea,” she whispers, softly. After a few more kisses on her neck, she turns her head so she is looking over her shoulder at you. You share a kiss, and the touch of her lips on yours is pure electricity. 
She grasps the hand you’d placed atop her stomach, and drags it down her body. Your kiss deepens when your fingertips brush against the wet, warm heat between her legs.
She was right - she was dripping.
She lets a low, slow moan escape her lips as your fingertips graze the soft, warm flesh between her thighs, your middle finger tracing a slow path upward from the base of her opening to its tip, collecting her plentiful juices on the way.
“Since you refrained from joining me in the shower, I had to get myself started,” she says, softly, eyes still shut softly. Her lips have parted slightly, warm breaths of pleasure leaving them with each soft stroke your fingertips make between her legs.
“Sorry, Momo. Let me take care of you.”
She smiles to herself.
“You’re all mine this trip,” she says, softly, as her eyes slowly drift open, finding you staring at her reflection over her shoulder. Between her legs, your ring finger joins your middle one, tracing slow, careful strokes up and down her opening - barely penetrating, carefully spreading the lips of her pussy apart, preparing her for what was to come.
“All yours,” you say against the back of her ear, breathlessly.
“No other toys, no other girls. Just you and me. All mine, just mine.”
“Yes, Momo,” you gasp, suddenly short of breath. The feel of her slick pussy on your fingertips, that tight, hot body pressed against yours - it was so much to take in. “I’m yours,” you say, “whenever, however you want.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“I am, Momo. I’m yours.”
She grasps your other hand from where it is clutching her hip, and draws it up her torso until it is cupping a full, round breast. Almost on reflex, you capture her taut nipple between your index finger and thumb. She sighs in your arms as you squeeze her breast and tease the nipple atop it, enjoying the heavy weight of it in your hand.
“I don’t believe it,” she repeats, turning her head again to kiss you. Your lips find each other, tongues not long after. Her body writhes like liquid in your arms. Her cunt leaks her juices onto your fingers and between them.
“I am,” you manage to say, between kisses that were quickly becoming heated, more intense. “I’m yours.”
The kiss continues. You’d kissed her before, of course, but never this passionately, never with this much intensity or intimacy behind it. 
“Prove it, then,” she says, breaking the kiss just long enough to get the words out from between your mouths. For the first time since you’d entered the bathroom you look directly into her eyes, and not through the reflection.
Dark brown, round, filled with an intensity that takes you by surprise with its depth. 
“Momo,” you say, unable to really conjure up more than her name. You can feel yourself being lost to her, feel yourself losing your higher faculties and becoming a simple-minded slave to your base needs. “I’m yours,” you repeat.
“We’ll see,” she relents, even as she brushes her nose and then her lips against yours, teasing a kiss that never comes. “But I still have my doubts. I think you’ll have to fuck them out of me.”
That’s it - that’s what snaps the last vestiges of your self control. You crush her lips with yours, driving them against hers with so much force that it might have hurt her - not that she cared, not when she wanted the same thing. 
Your fingers tighten around her nipple, pulling and twisting, squeezing the soft flesh of her breast in your palm. Lower, your fingertips slide inside her.
She moans into your kiss, lips breaking contact for just a second to fill the bathroom with the sound of her pleasure. The kiss continues for a moment more, but she breaks it again when your fingers slide inside her to the hilt.
Her eyes drift slowly open, holding your gaze, even though your faces are touching, your noses and lips brushing against each other as you finger her slowly, sliding your fingers in and out of her slick, hot cunt. Your eyes remained locked on each other as you continue to finger fuck the young woman in your arms.
You’d fucked her before, roughly, sometimes with one or more others sharing the same bed, or couch, or shower. You’d seen her in the throes of orgasm as she’d cum on your cock, heard her spit filth into your ears, watched her as she’d lain there a sweaty, cum-filled mess after one of your sessions - but you’ve never seen her like this. Those were rushed, hard, messy sessions driven entirely by basic lust; this was something else entirely. Momo had never looked so soft, never looked so vulnerable. 
It never felt so intimate.
“Mmm, fuck,” she gasps, “that feels so good.”
“I’ll take care of you, Momo,” you say, the words leaving your mouth almost faster than you knew you were saying them, your desires working faster than your brain. “I’ll take care of you this trip. I’m yours. I’ll make you cum, as much as you want.”
“Do it, please,” she replies, eyes fluttering, body writhing in your grasp. The hand over yours on her breast tightens. She begins to quiver, legs losing their strength as the pleasure builds between her legs.
“Please,” she continues. “Make me cum.”
Your hand leaves her breast, wrapping around her torso, pressing her back against your chest. Her eyes dart open for a moment, finding yours in the mirror’s reflection. Her lower lip curls under a tooth as your fingers move inside her.
Her eyes shut again when they find the right spot.
She moans, and the warm, lovely sound that leaves her throat bounces off the hard marble and glass of the bathroom, filling your ears with her pleasure. It increases in pitch and frequency as your fingers work between her legs - slowly building in pace, not too fast, not too much all at once. Just a slow, steady increase. 
Her legs are jelly now, the arm you’d wrapped beneath her breasts doing more and more to hold her up against you than her limbs did. She reaches back with a hand to grasp your scalp. She arches her back, throws the back of her head against your shoulder as you pleasure her.
Her reflection in the mirror is sex - that perfect body of hers, perfectly shaped, perfectly fit, just perfect - writhing and quivering in your arms. And her face - my god, her face - wracked with pleasure, eyes shut and brow furrowed, mouth agape as it spills a chorus of moans and sighs from her lips.
Between her legs, she is so wet, so slick that her juices are running between your fingers, staining your palm the back of your hand, some of it dripping down to the cold marble in heavy drops as she makes a mess of you and the floor beneath her.
“Cum for me, Momo,” you hiss. Your lips are pressed against the soft skin behind her ear and while your words weren’t very loud, the effect they have on her is obvious. She tightens around your fingers, begins to pulsate. Her moans reach a new pitch.
“Cum for me, Momo,” you repeat, fingers merciless between her legs. You maintain your pace, no longer moving any faster inside her, simply staying at that speed and tempo. You knew she was right there, right on that delicious edge when building pleasure threatened to become an orgasm. You wanted her to stay there, even as your words tease her, tempt her into throwing herself over it.
“Mmm, no, don’t want to yet,” she says, the words tumbling from her drooling lips in a half-drunken slur, “no, don’t want to cum yet, want, oh fuck, want to, fuck, want to stay here, it feels so good, just like this, just like that-”
“Cum for me,” you snap. “Cum on my hand.”
“No, please, fuck, just a little longer please, don’t want to cum yet-”
You let her have her way - for a few moments more. You savor the sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her entire body is trembling. Her fingers are claws - one digging into your scalp behind her, the other on your forearm. What a sight; you want to freeze it, want to sear it into your memory for a lonely day.
“Yes, yes, so good,” she pants. Saliva drips from the corner of a slack mouth. She is a slave to the pleasure emanating from her cunt. She’s helpless, teetering on the precipice of a pit she wasn’t sure she wanted to fall into, not when the simple danger of it was so wonderful, when the threat of cumming so hard was so hard felt almost as good as actually cumming, when she felt so close to something she wasn’t sure she wanted, not yet, not when she felt so utterly-
“Cum for me, Momo.”
When she cums it is almost violent, the way the entirety of her body shakes and quivers and trembles in your arms. Her legs give way, until only your arm around her torso and fingers inside her cunt keep her upright. She tightens almost unbearably around your fingers. Her moans cut out momentarily, but only for a second, because when she finds her voice again the sound that leaves her throat is nothing short of a shriek.
You hold her close through it all, not moving your fingers inside her, simply holding her upright and letting her ride the waves of pleasure as they crash against her.
It takes a few minutes for her to recover. Longer than usual, not that you minded watching the unbearably beautiful, near-naked woman in your arms recover from one of the strongest orgasms you’d ever given her. She is wet, sweaty, slick. Flushed and pink, breathing heavily. Dripping sex, figuratively and literally.
While she is still recovering, you push forward slightly with your upper body until she finds the strength to brace herself against the counter with quivering arms. Then, placing soft kisses on the back of her neck, you slip your fingers from inside her. They emerge wet and sticky from her cunt.
You bring them to her mouth. 
She begins to lick them clean. Eyes still drunk with pleasure, they manage to find yours in the mirror’s reflection. Her tongue gathers her own slick juices, slurps them up as best she can, licking up and down the length of your fingers and between them. She gets her juices onto her chin and cheeks, making them glisten with her wetness. Her eyes never leave yours.
“Fuck me now,” she says, half-moan, half-sigh as the last vestiges of her orgasm course through her veins. She swipes one last time at the juices that stain your fingers. “Fuck me like I want. Like you want. Fuck your cum into me.”
You slip your hand from her mouth, and she sighs at the absence of them. You strip the bathrobe from her shoulders, finally leaving her naked. Perfection in female form, all curves and perfect skin, marred only by sweat and spit and her own juices. Her eyes have never once left yours, locked on yours in the mirror’s reflection, until she turns over her shoulder to look at you directly.
She leans over the counter, arches her back, spreads her legs slightly. Her leaking cunt drips her juices onto the floor between you.
No further words. A few moments pass as you quickly undo the knot at your joggers and pull them down to your knees, revealing your aching, stiffened cock. You step forward, pressing her against the counter. One of your hands reaches out and squeezes a firm cheek of her ass, before sliding up her spine, fingertips tracing a path along the delicious curve there and resting on her shoulder.
Your free hand brings your tip to her dripping cunt. A stroke forward with your hips, and you’re inside Hirai Momo to the hilt.
Her pussy is tight, wet, slick - the feel of her body wrapped around your cock is sublime. Her ass is wide and full, her waist tiny, spine delightfully arched and shoulders possessing the right amount of tone - the sight of her bent over the bathroom counter, fully impaled on your cock, was enthralling, made you shiver with pleasure.
But it’s her face, her reflection in the bathroom mirror, that takes the cake. Her eyes, shut to relish the feel of being filled with your stiffness, slowly drift open before finding and holding your gaze. Her mouth opens to sigh at the feeling of fullness, that wonderful stretch inside her, before her tongue darts out to lick her lips. She says something, and you don’t hear it, but the message on her lips is easy to read, undeniable.
“Fuck me,” she mouths. 
You slip your cock out of her halfway. The lips of her pussy clutch tightly to your shaft, not wanting to let it go. You glisten with her slick juices. 
One stroke, then two. A third, a fourth. A slow build up of pace and depth and force. She takes it, letting small grunts and sighs punctuate each thrust you make into her body. Her arms brace herself against the counter. Her upper arms bring her breasts together, creating a delicious looking cleavage as they begin to be rocked back and forth with each impact of your hips on hers.
You tighten your grip on her, fixing her, keeping her still, rendering her unable to do anything else other than simply take each thrust you give her tight, wet little cunt.
You reach the rhythm you want, where you are fucking her, giving her long, smooth strokes of your cock. Her sighs turn into soft moans as she settles into your rhythm, matches it with her own with small movements of her hips, driving herself back at you, making each thrust that much more pleasurable for both of you.
You let your gaze wander. Everywhere you look is something you want to never forget - the round cheeks of her ass, her slim waist, even the soft curls and waves in her hair as they are plastered to her neck and upper back with sweat. And in the mirror, more; the dangling, bouncing mounds of her breasts and the tight nipples atop them, that lovely face of hers, soft features twisted and contorted with pleasure in the most beautiful way possible.
“Harder,” she says, softly. You oblige.
You reach forward, grasp her upper arms in your palms. You pull backward, lifting her upper body up off the counter, arching her back.
You resume fucking her.
She yelps at the first few thrusts in this position. She’s truly helpless now, fingers turning into claws as they helplessly search for something to hold on to and find nothing. Her breasts bounce wildly in the mirror, the large, round mounds impacted forcefully with each thrust you make into her cunt. They would be sore later, but she wouldn’t care, not if future soreness was the price to be paid for immediate pleasure.
She throws her hair back, sending sable hair flying. Her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her mouth slackens, able to do no more than moan and sigh. Saliva drips from the corner of her mouth, down her chin as she is fucked, hard, stretched cunt filled again and again with your cock.
You tighten your grip on her upper arms, pulling back slightly until she is almost upright. Throughout it all you are fucking her, pounding her tight little pussy, making her feel everything, giving her everything. Your brow furrows with the effort, your teeth grit. 
“You’re so fucking tight, Momo,” you grunt, “such a tight little cunt.”
“Mmmmm, fuck--!” is the response from a breathless mouth. You up the pace. She takes it all, and every wordless moan that leaves her mouth at the peak of each thrust is proof that she loved each one. You fuck her hard, roughly. You take liberties with her body, using her cunt as you wanted, momentarily forgetting that you were there to serve her - and she loves every moment of it.
You’re the first to relent - as much as you wanted to fuck the young woman into oblivion in that position your arms simply couldn’t take much more. You release her upper arms, leaving clear marks on her fair skin, before sliding them up her torso. You cup her tender breasts in each hand, squeezing the heavy mounds, caressing and pinching her taut nipples. She cups her hands over yours. 
“Mmmm, so fucking big,” she gasps. “So fucking big inside me, fucking me so good - and all for me, all mine.”
You bury your mouth in the side of her neck.
“All yours, Momo. I’m gonna fuck this little cunt, your mouth, your ass - all your holes, whenever you want. This cock belongs to you. I’ll take care of you, baby girl. I’ll take care of this body of yours.”
“Yes!” she gasps. “Yes. All mine. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re all mine, gonna, gonna fucking cum on your cock.”
You up your pace, but only slightly, just enough to make your impending orgasms that much more wonderful. The slap of wet skin on wet skin fills the bathroom. You let go of her breasts, but your hands don’t leave her, wandering to her hips, her ass, her shoulders - anywhere that let you hold her, grip her, tie her down. Anywhere that you could touch and squeeze. 
“Gonna cum, baby,” Momo says to your reflection in the mirror. “Gonna cum on your cock.”
“Fuck, me too, Momo.”
“Cum in me, okay? Give me your cum. I want-”
Her sentence is interrupted with a long, drawn out moan as she nears her orgasm.
“What do you want, Momo? Tell me. Tell me what you want. I’ll give it to you.”
“I want, I want-”
You continue to fuck her. She’s so close, right on the edge once more, and you’re not far off. Your cock fills her cunt again and again and again and she’s losing her grip, and you’re losing yours, and the whole world means nothing aside from the pussy wrapped around your cock, her perfect body and bouncing breasts, the words leaving the girl’s mouth-
“I want- oh fuck, I want---”
“Fuck, Momo-”
“I want your cum inside me,” she spits, finally, right on the edge of cumming. “Cum inside me. Just for me.”
She cums, and you do too.
You have to hold her down, lest the full-body spasm that wracks her pulls you off your cock before you’d had the chance to fill her with cum. With one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder you pin her down, pushing her over the bathroom counter until her head and upper chest are pressed against the mirror. One, two more thrusts and you bury yourself inside her, your cock spasming, filling her hot, messy cunt with warm, thick cum.
Your world explodes. Her world shatters into a million pieces. Either way, for a few beautiful seconds you’re both powerless. There is only the pleasure coursing through your bodies.
You grip her hip and shoulder so tightly you are afraid for a moment that you’ll bruise her delicate skin. And for a moment, you didn’t care if you did. All you wanted was to hold her spasming, quivering body still while you filled it with cum.
You both lie there, frozen, for a while - whatever a ‘while’ meant when your respective orgasms rendered your mutual concept of time meaningless. Your hands caress her body, sliding up and down her sides, squeezing a firm ass cheek or round, flushed breast, enjoying the feel of shower water and sweat and other juices beneath your hands. You feel hazy, drunk on pleasure, and everything takes on a blurred, unreal appearance, as though you were still asleep on the couch, and this was the sweetest dream you’d ever had.
A knock on the door is what brings reality crashing back into existence.
You both freeze - you’re still hilt deep inside her creamy, messy pussy. You find her eyes, still filled with a post-orgasm haze, in the reflection.
“The makeup staff,” you say, with a surprising, odd amount of clarity. “They’re here,” you add, as though it were some new bit of information that could shed further light on the ridiculous situation you’d both found yourselves in.
Momo squirms beneath you, but doesn’t move any further. She makes a small whimpering sound. It’s you that moves first when the second knock comes, easing yourself out of her cunt. Thick drops of cum and her juices drip onto the floor, and her whimper turns into a soft, low moan as she feels your cock leave her.
“I need to take another shower,” Momo says, softly, the pleasure still coursing through her body still making her feel high, feel drunk. “Tell them I woke up late. I’ll be out in ten minutes.”
“Okay,” you agree, taking a moment to grab one of the hand towels off the rack and giving yourself a quick clean before bending to wipe the evidence of your act from the marble floor.
You pull your pants back up, and Momo sheepishly steps toward the shower on wobbly legs.
You are turning to make your way to answer the door when she stops you with a hand on your upper arm. When you turn, she plants a kiss on your lips.
“Thanks,” she says, before flashing you that smile of hers and hopping back into the shower. Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks like a mess, but she is glowing.
You find a smile making its way onto your face as you turn to deal with the makeup artists.
---
She was bathed in light again.
This time the lights came from dozens of photographer flashes, each one belonging to a competitor vying for the best shot, the perfect visual capture of the young woman at the center of everyone’s attention. She relishes the moment, doing her best to pose the way they want, the way she knows will show off the best sides of her - not that there was any particular side that outweighed the others, because truth be told, Hirai Momo looked amazing from all angles.
“Fuck she’s hot,” Minnie says.
“Yeah,” you agree, your eyes not leaving the girl who was the center of attention of almost everyone else at the party.
“That fit - damn, not just anyone can pull that off.”
“I think you’d look fine in it.”
“Please,” Minnie scoffs, “don’t patronize me. There’s a reason why the cameras are pointed at her, and not me.”
“Yeah, you look like a real three day old bag of garbage,” you tease. You turn to her for the first time to flash her a smile, and she rewards you with a soft punch to the upper arm. In a similarly all-denim fit, Minnie looked pretty captivating in her own right, albeit in a more subdued, cute school classmate kind of way.
“I’m no slouch,” she admits as she takes a sip from her champagne flute, “but I look like a cardboard cutout compared to those curves.”
As much as you liked Minnie - she was close friends with several of the girls and thus you saw and interacted with her frequently - you couldn’t disagree with her. Momo’s all-denim fit, consisting of wide cut jeans and a halter top that was essentially a triangle of denim strapped to her chest that left her back bare, certainly put all those curves on full display.
You are both admiring Momo from afar when an older, well-dressed gentleman approaches you. Next to you Minnie straightens up and puts on her best smile, but she receives only a courtesy nod of the head from the newcomer.
“Excuse me,” he begins, in British-accented english that reminded you a bit of the way noblemen spoke in period pieces. “Am I correct in assuming that you’re Miss Hirai’s company handler?”
“Yes,” you answer, wondering for the millionth time at the series of ridiculous events that led to you being able to answer ‘yes’ to such a question.
The gentleman reaches into his jacket pocket to retrieve a business card, on which he scribbles something onto the back with a fancy looking fountain pen. He passes it to you, and you take a note of the company logo on the front of it - one of the higher-end brands in the fashion industry, that was for sure.
“I’d welcome the opportunity to meet with someone in your company regarding a business arrangement with Miss Hirai,” he begins. “My personal number is on the back of the card, should she wish to conduct that meeting… personally.”
Out of the corner of your eye you notice Minnie give a scoff under her breath before turning away and taking another sip of her champagne. You succeed a little better than her in hiding your disgust behind a smile.
You’d had your suspicions about the man from the second he approached, and his words only confirm them to be accurate. You had no doubt he did indeed represent the company he claimed to work for, but the generally slimy, greasy aura about him rubbed you the wrong way.
“I’ll make sure someone at the company contacts you,” you respond. “Have a good night, sir.”
He seems a little surprised at your curt reply and abrupt dismissal - this was a man not used to being rejected. Regardless, he manages a tart nod towards both you and Minnie before he scurries off into the crowd.
“What a piece of shit,” Minnie says under her breath, the second his back is turned - perhaps she’d wanted him to hear it. She was nothing if not honest with her feelings.
You nod in agreement as you turn the business card over in your hand, glossing over the number scribbled onto the back.
“Still,” Minnie continues, “that’s a fucking top-tier brand. She’d look pretty good in their stuff, not to mention what it’ll do for her career.”
“I’m not going to-”
“Don’t get me wrong,” she says, cutting you off. “There’s no way in hell I’d let her anywhere near that guy. But if you take it to the company maybe they can work something out - something that doesn’t involve slimeball execs luring models back to their hotel rooms in exchange for promises.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” you agree, your gaze returning to Momo, who was beginning to signal to her audience of admirers that she was ready to end the little impromptu photo session. If the photographers picked up on her hints, they didn’t show it - the lights continue to flash, and they continue to call her name in hopes that she’d turn to give them the angle they were looking for.
“Anyway, since there aren’t any high-end brand slimeballs hitting on me, I’ll be in the corner getting wasted on free champagne,” Minnie says with a sarcastic but warm smile. You return it - she was a sweetheart, and you hoped to see more of her.
“See you around, Minnie.”
She gives your upper arm a squeeze and shoots you a smile and a wink before heading towards another corner of the room, where several other idols and celebrities in attendance were congregating.
You stand there alone for a few more minutes while Momo wraps up.  She gives everyone small, polite bows and waves as she slowly makes her way towards you, having finally broken free of the throng of admirers and the incessantly flashing lights that accompanied them.
“Who was the creepy old dude?” she asks.
“This guy,” you answer, handing her the card. She makes an intrigued face at the logo on the front before flipping it over and noticing the number on the back. Her curiosity turns into an unamused smirk.
“If you want,” you begin, “we can pretend we never got that card.”
“No, the company will want to know about this,” she answers, with more than a hint of disappointment. “This could be a pretty cool opportunity.”
“I suppose. But you’re sure as hell not dialling that number and meeting with him alone.”
She smiles up at you. Her eyes glimmer in the light of some far-off camera flash.
“Really? Are you going to protect an innocent, naive little girl like me from creepy old execs that want to take advantage of her?”
You smile, and she covers her mouth for a moment to hide her giggle.
“He wouldn’t be the first geezer to think I’d suck his dick and spread my legs just because one of his assistants sends me a bag with a fancy logo on it,” she admits, her giggle fading quickly and turning into a forlorn glance at the card in her hand. “Probably won’t be the last. One of the drawbacks of being super hot, y’know?”
Despite the sarcasm in her tone and the weak smile on her lips, there is a sadness in her eyes that breaks your heart a little.
“Here,” she says, handing you the card with a dispirited look. “You should probably make sure someone in Business Development at the company gets that.”
You draw closer to her and take the card from her hands. You tear it in half.
She looks up at you, the surprise on her face becoming a sweet smile. There is genuine appreciation there, along with something else you couldn’t quite name.
“I appreciate it, I really do,” she says, softly, before returning to a sarcastic tone. “But, like, they’re a pretty big brand. I never want to see that dude ever again, but I like their stuff, so maybe someone from the company can call their company…”
“I can probably… tape it back together?” you say, sheepishly fiddling with the two halves of the card and making a show of trying to piece the two parts together.
Momo giggles again, and amidst the loudness of the event, it sounds like music. “You’re too sweet,” she says, with a warm smile, before she draws close to whisper into your ear.
“And just for the record,” she says, “it’s your cum inside me, your cum that’s dripping down my leg. I don’t want anyone else’s. I just want more of yours.”
She leaves you there, speechless, for a moment that seems longer than it really was. She bites her lip, the slightest bit of ivory poking into soft pink, before sliding her tongue across it.
“C’mon,” she says, finally, motioning towards a corner of the room where Minnie is flagging down another flute of champagne from a passing server. “Can’t let Minnie get wasted all on her own. She’s tiny - so she doesn’t hold her alcohol very well.”
“Right,” you answer, slipping the two halves of the card into your jacket pocket. You’d make sure the guys in Business Development knew to avoid that particular executive when approaching their company. 
On your way to Minnie, Momo tugs at your jacket sleeve.
“Hey,” she says, eyes locked on yours, thoughtful look on her features. “Thanks. Again.”
“You’re welcome. I’m yours this week, remember?”
She pulls away, gives you a thoughtful look over her shoulder, and leads you both to where her friend is polishing off her fourth flute.
---
The Eiffel Tower shone like a golden spear, a beacon against the darkness, a monument to man’s mastery over light.
Unlike other monumental towers in other world-class cities, which were often nestled amidst downtown skyscrapers and other buildings, the Eiffel Tower stands alone and unchallenged against the Paris skyline. That made it difficult to miss, and impossible to ignore.
It is a fact you were thankful for. It gave you something to focus on, something to distract you, if even from a moment, from the woman between your knees.
The simple deck chair you are sitting on squeaks in protest as the pleasure slowly building in your body causes you to squirm atop it. Between your spread legs, Momo smiles around a mouthful of your cock as she slowly eases it from between her wet lips.
“Does that feel good, baby?” she asks, knowing full well what your answer would be. But she asks it anyway, because she wants to hear the answer, wants to hear your praise, wants to hear just how much every little move she made was affecting your body.
“It feels fucking amazing, Momo,” you answer, knowing that no amount of profanity could possible emphasize enough how you felt in that moment.
“Good,” she replies, returning her attention to your cock, planting small, soft, almost chaste kisses along its length. She cradles it with her left hand as she continues her kisses down your shaft, placing a few softer ones on each of your dangling balls.
You reach out, run your fingers through her hair. She raises her head from under your shaft and nuzzles against your palm. Her eyes drift closed for a moment and a smile perks up the corners of her mouth as she enjoys the feel of your skin on hers. The hand on your cock begins to pump slowly up and down your length.
“Just enjoy it, okay babe?” she says, softly, eyes drifting open to lock onto yours. “Let me know when you get close - pinch my arm - and I’ll slow down. I’ll go slow. I want it to last. I want it to feel good.”
“Okay,” you answer. Momo gives you a sultry smile before returning to her work.
Her mouth is sublime - warm, wet, tight - that skilled tongue of hers playing around your head at the apex of each movement, pressed against the underside of your cock on the downstroke. Her hand matches her movements, pumping up and down in time with the movements of her lips and tongue.
You feel the pleasure building, and so you return your attention to the Eiffel Tower.
You wonder for a moment at the sheer scale of it, and how such an impressive structure was created without the construction technology of today. You weren’t really sure when it was built - perhaps early in the 1900s? The late 1800s? Regardless of its actual date of construction you knew it must’ve been a long and difficult process without today’s cranes and Momo’s tongue sliding along the underside of the head of your cock, sending another spike of pleasure coursing up your spine-
That deserved a pinch on her arm.
You can almost feel her smile around your cock as she slows down her pace significantly. Her tongue doesn’t pressed as tightly against your shaft, having momentarily retreated from the offensive it was waging on the tip of your cock. You let a sigh escape your lips.
Back to the Eiffel Tower - gee, the electricity bill on it must be staggering. You were a few kilometers away from it, but from here it seemed like every inch of it was illuminated in some way. It glimmered as though it were made of fine gold and brilliant silver. 
It must’ve cost quite a bit to have it lit up like it was, every night. But it was probably a cost that the residents of Paris bore proudly - it was the fucking Eiffel Tower, after all. If you’d had something as iconic in your backyard you’d bet you’d be lighting it up as much as you could. 
The very tip of the tower contained some sort of slowly rotating searchlight that sent parallel spears of light out into the darkness, as though being a giant lit-up tower of solid gold wasn’t enough to draw your attention to it and Momo’s doing it again, capturing the head of your cock between her lips before swirling the very tip of her tongue around its head and under the sensitive ridge where it met the rest of your shaft. With her right hand she begins to fondle your balls with a light touch; her left hand continues to pump up and down your length and oh my god-
Yeah, a definite pinch on her arm.
She lets your cock leave her lips, and you look down to find an amused smile on her lips. Her tongue darts out, sweeping the spit and pre-cum from them. She can feel that you’re closer now than she’d like, so her hands leave your cock, and she returns to placing soft kisses against your shaft. She nuzzles her face against it, grazing it with her soft cheeks and nose.
The Eiffel Tower, though - wow, what a monument. It was, like, big and stuff, and lit up and it’s so tall and Momo’s reaching behind her now, fingers working quickly at the buckle that held up the ridiculous triangle of denim that was strapped to her chest and now it’s off, and those large, round, perfectly shaped breasts of hers are bare naked, tits you and half the population of Paris had had their eyes glued to for most of the day and now she’s topless and looking at you with lust in her eyes and her hands are cupping her own tits and her fingers are playing with her stiff nipples and and the Eiffel Tower is definitely a thing.
“Jesus, Momo,” you spit, almost on reaction, as the young woman straightens up her back, giving you a full view of her topless form in the low light of the hotel room balcony. You were thankful, not for the first time, that the balcony walls were made of plaster and thus limited any chance of prying eyes witnessing what was happening on it.
Momo’s response is to bring her breasts to your cock, capturing it between the full, warm mounds. She looks up at you, making sure your eyes were locked on her, before she bends her head to spit on the tip of your cock. 
Her saliva lands on your tip, before dripping down your already spit-slick shaft. She squeezes her tits around your cock, and begins to slide them up and down your length.
Your head tilts back and you let a sharp, breathless gasp leave your mouth at the feeling of it. There was no relying on the Eiffel Tower, now, not that any monument in the world stood any chance of distracting you from what was happening between your legs.
“Does that feel good?” she asks, another question she knew full well the answer to.
“Yes, Momo. Fuck.”
“Do you want to cum on my tits?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
“Mmmm,” she responds, continuing to slide her warm, full tits up and down your shaft. Warm, wet, slick. “I like you here, though, like this. Right on the edge…”
“Fuck, Momo, please.”
By way of response, she bends her head, does her best to swipe the tip of her tongue across the head of your cock as it appears from between her tits with each slide down your length. You’re getting close now, your limbs beginning to quiver, the pleasure building-
Momo lets your cock slip from between her tits. You sigh at the loss of that warm softness around your shaft. She returns to placing soft, simple kisses on its length.
“I didn’t pinch your arm,” you state, frustrated. You were right there, just a few seconds away, one or two more thrusts between her tits.
“I know,” she replies, a mischievous smile on her lips, before her tongue darts out and gives you a slow, careful lick from the base of your shaft to its tip. “But you look so good like this, all antsy, wanting so bad to cum all over me. So fucking hot.”
“Momo,” you say, her name almost a plea.
She relents - quicker than you were expecting, and saving you from having to beg - perhaps she’d been looking forward to your orgasm just as much as you were.
“Alright,” she says. “I’m not a monster. Don’t hold back, okay? Just cum. Cum for me.”
She straightens her back, slides your aching cock between those full, round, perfect breasts of hers once again. You don’t miss the way she captures her nipples between her thumbs and index fingers as she squeezes the full mounds around your shaft.
She spits on your cock again. Then she slides her breasts up and down your cock.
For a moment your mind flashes back to that very first night with her and Chaeyoung - the night that, without exaggeration, changed your life. The blowjob they’d started with was amazing, of course, but when you started fucking Momo’s tits for the first time - that was when it really sunk it. Before then it had felt like a dream. With her breasts around your cock, and that look of utter pleasure on her face as you fucked her tits - it suddenly felt very real.
And now here you were, in Paris, no less, with that same, beautiful woman on her knees before, your cock between her breasts again as she pumps them up and down your length. But you were alone, now, just you and her, and it somehow felt more intense than even than the first time. Was it the city? The fact that you were alone with her, with no other girls or toys to get in the way? The fact that there was something in the way she’d been acting in the past few days that made you think, for a moment, that this all meant more to her than a simple appearance at a fashion show?
The thought flees your head quickly amidst the pleasure coursing through your veins. It chases almost everything else away, leaving only the feel of her soft, warm tits wrapped around your cock. It feels amazing. It feels sublime.
Momo is sighing now, the pleasure she was giving you inspiring a similar pleasure in her. She continues to tease her nipples, even as she slips your cock in and out between her breasts. She wishes she were naked, that she could slide a hand down her body to the wetness between her legs - but the thought of it, that delicious itch that she wasn’t quite able to scratch - brought her almost as much pleasure.
“Fuck, Momo, I’m gonna cum,” you hiss, between gritted teeth. You are watching her now, hand tight on her bicep and the other woven into her hair. She raises her head to look at you, eyes glazed with almost as much pleasure as yours.
“Fucking cum all over me.”
Almost as if on command, your orgasm hits you - hard, intense, overwhelming. Your cock spasms in the soft warmth of her tits as it spurts thick, warm semen, thick ropes of it landing on her neck and chin, her upper chest, those perfect breasts. You want to shut your eyes, want to relish the pleasure overtaking your brain, but you force your eyes open, force yourself to watch as you paint Momo with your cum.
She lets a long, soft moan leave her mouth from the moment your cum lands on her skin. She continues to slide her breasts up and down your shaft, but at a slower pace now, the added lubrication of your cum making her feel even more slick and wet around your still-spasming cock.
You quiver at the pleasure in a way that you didn’t often during sex. The environment, the circumstances, the utter sexuality of the perfect young woman pleasuring you - it was almost too much to handle.
Your hands leave her body, and you slump backward in your chair as the orgasm finally winds down. Momo finally stops moving, settling her breasts down until they are wrapped around the base of your cock. Her tongue darts out playfully, sliding across your tip. You shudder, completely at her mercy.
Eventually she raises her head, releases your spent cock from between her reddened, cum-slick breasts. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes half-lidded with lust. Thick ropes of your cum paint her body, the white streaks contrasting against her perfect creamy skin, dripping down her chest in slow paths of glistening wetness.
She stands, and without a further word she steps inside the hotel room.
Just beyond her the Eiffel Tower stood proudly, a monument to humanity and everything it was capable of - not that you gave it a shred of your attention as you follow her into the room.
You watch, dumbfounded, brain hazy, as she undoes the buckle at her belt and lets the thick denim fall down her long, perfect legs. The small black lace thong she wore beneath it follows suit as she bends to slide it from her body, leaving her naked.
When she reaches the bed, she turns around and sits on its edge, beckoning you toward her with her eyes. You follow, slave to her, a thrall to her whims.
She lies back on the bed. She spreads her legs as you approach the edge of the bed, allowing you between them.
You reach out, caressing her warm, full thighs. They are flushed and pink, wet with the juices freely flowing from her opening. The slick wetness of her cunt glistens in the low light of the hotel room.
“I should be getting you back from what you just did to me,” you say. 
She smiles - a sensual, sultry curve of her lips. “I’d say we’re even, considering what you did to me this morning in the bathroom. And besides,” she says, eyes locked on yours as she captures a rope of your cum from her upper chest with her fingertips, “you liked it.”
She slips her glistening fingers into her mouth, sucking your cum from them. 
In response, you place your newly stiffened shaft on her body - the length of it lying atop her shaven mound. She gasps at the feel of it on her.
“What if I want to leave you like this, Momo? Look at my cock. Look at how deep inside you I’d be.”
She glances down between your bodies, to where your aching, stiff cock is lying atop her mound. She bites her lip, reaching down to caress its wet length, imagining it thrusting mercilessly inside her, comparing its length to her body and seeing how deep inside her it would end up.
“You won’t leave me like this. You don’t have the guts. You want to fuck me. You want to ruin this little cunt of mine, leave me here on this bed a little cum-stained, cum-filled thing.”
“Maybe I want to. Maybe I don’t.”
“You do,” she snaps. “And besides, it doesn’t matter what you want. You’re mine, remember? You do what I want - and what I want is your cum in me.”
You feel yourself giving in. How could anyone resist such a sight, such words? She’s perfect - hot, wet, legs spread, your cum is on her chest and she’s irresistible, in every possible way a woman could be.
“Fuck, Momo,” you sigh, defeated. 
Her free hand continues to caress your cock, forming a ring with her index finger and thumb and pumping it up and down your aching length. She captures another rope of your semen from her upper chest with her fingers, before capturing the nipple atop her right breast and teasing it with cum-stained fingertips. She moans at her own touch, you gasp at the sight of her. Your hands, caressing her thighs, tighten around the soft, yielding flesh, holding on to the last vestiges of self-control remaining inside you.
“Do you like me like this?” she asks, breathless.
You grasp your cock with your right hand, bringing your tip to her dripping lips before sliding inside her. It rips a sharp moan from her lungs. You linger there for a moment, hilt-deep inside Hirai Momo’s tight, slick cunt.
“I like you like this.”
You begin to fuck her - as much as a part of you wanted to get back at her for the way she’d edged you out on the balcony, the tight, slick heat you were pumping in and out of did much to dissolve any thoughts of revenge from your head. The session in the bathroom this morning, the teasing at the fashion show, the way she’d pleasured you on the balcony - it had all boiled over, leaving no room for things like teasing or taking things slow.
There was only pleasure, now, and the hard, firm pace you set puts you both on the path to achieving it as quickly as possible.
At first she gasps and sighs as you fill her again and again, her body adjusting to the way you were taking her, her cunt stretching around you. She was still so slick and so very wet - perhaps some remnant of the cum you’d left in her this morning contributed to how messy she felt, or perhaps it was mostly her own juices. Either way, she was dripping even before you’d entered her, and now, as you hammer in and out of that juicy pussy, she was almost drenched.
“Fuck, fuck,” she hisses, between gritted teeth. She raises her upper body on her elbows, giving her a better look between her own spread legs where you are pistoning in and out of her body. She looks up at you, and for a few long minutes you stay like that, eyes holding each other's gaze as you fuck.
Her breasts are given a delightful bounce with each thrust into her body. The streaks of your cum begin to flow down their curves, leaving glistening trails behind them. You rip your eyes from hers to watch them bounce, hypnotically, mesmerized by their perfect shape and the way they moved on her body.
She gets the hint - returns her back to the bed, reaches and cups her tits with both her hands, squeezing their cum-streaked flesh, teasing her nipples again with needy fingers, giving you a show even as she pleasured herself.
It works, and the sight of her spurs you. You up your pace slightly.
“Fuck, yes, right there, just like that,” she spits, as you reach a new tempo. “Fuck me like that, fuck me like this.”
She continues to play with her tits, pinching and teasing her nipples, but you want to see them free, want to see them bounce wildly with every stroke into her cunt. You reach forward. Trapping her wrists in yours, you pull back towards yourself.
She is helpless now, her upper arms bringing her tits together and creating a delicious looking cleavage as they are rocked by each thrust into her tight little cunt. Her heels dig into your butt. She wants more, needs more. She’s moaning and sighing wordless little sounds of pleasure, of need. Your cum is on her bouncing, jiggling breasts and her perfect abs clench and her thighs are flushed and she’s so much, all at once, all for you, she’s made of sex and she’s yours to take.
But that’s not enough - you want more, want to see her lose herself to the pleasure, want to see her cum around your cock. You let go of one of her wrists. With your hand free, you reach down and begin to thumb her clit.
The moan that is halfway out her mouth turns into a shriek, a scream, at your touch. Her arm, free of your grip, finds your forearm as it works at her wet, slick flesh. Her nails dig into your skin, and the pain is a delicious spice to the pleasure you find in her cunt.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” she says, words falling from her lips in a tumble. “Fuck, keep fucking me.”
You do just that - hammering in and out of her tight, juicy little cunt as you thumb at her clit.  She clenches and pulsates around you and you know you’re building her up to an orgasm that you hoped would be as powerful as the one she gave you on the balcony.
“Oh god,” she sighs, a sign that your hopes had a chance of being fulfilled. “Gonna cum so hard. Gonna cum on your cock.”
“Do it, Momo. Cum.”
“No, I don’t want to,” she says - a theme, now, with her, a kink you hadn’t known she’d had, discovered and out here in the open. She loved it here, right on the precipice. Loved the threat of orgasm, almost as much as when it actually came, for you and for her. She loved being teased about it, loved being goaded into an orgasm she pretended to resist, pretended not to want. Faux-resistance. Pretend. In reality she wanted, needed the orgasm - but every denial of it made it so much sweeter when it finally came.
“Momo, cum. Cum on my cock like a good little girl.”
Her free hand darts up to capture a cum-stained, bouncing breast. She squeezes herself, hard. Her free, bouncing tit glistens in the light with sweat and cum. 
“No, no no,” she insists, eyes shut and head shaking no, even as her cunt tightens around your thrusting cock, mercilessly pounding into her, spreading her apart, making her yours. Her pulsating pussy betrays her needs, even as her mouth spits defiance. “Don’t want to cum yet. Don’t let me cum, I’ll be good, I promise-”
Your thumb works against her clit. It brings her right to the edge-
“No, no, I don’t want, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. You cum first, cum in my cunt, please, cum in me first then I’ll cum on your cock I promise, I swear, fuck, fill me with cum please-”
It hits you all at once. You’d thought you were a ways from your own orgasm, especially since you’d cum on her chest just minutes before, but the sight, the sound, the feel of Hirai Momo is too much. It hits you like a thunderbolt, and it feels like lightning coursing through your veins. You bury yourself inside her and fill her, your cock pulsating with each rope of hot, thick semen it leaves inside her messy, tight cunt.
“Keep fucking me, keep fucking me, please, don’t stop-”
You are struggling to remain at least somewhat coherent given the pleasure coursing through even inch of your body, but her words still reach you, and you still find it in you to obey them. You keep thrusting, keep fucking her tight, cum-filled mess of a cunt, and she loves it, loves each entry and exit you make in and out of her body.
After a brief pause as your orgasm overtakes your senses for a moment, your thumb continues its work on her clit, slowly sliding from side to side across the slick, taut bud.
You open eyes you hadn’t known you’d closed and there she is, Hirai Momo, object of desire and beauty and captured with a million megapixels and bathed in flashing lights mere hours before - now a cum-filled, cum-stained mess, legs spread, skin flushed, moaning and sighing around a cunt filled with hot semen, being fucked into an orgasm she resisted and wanted at the same time. 
What any one of her admirers from hours before have given to be you at this moment, see what you see, feel what you feel. But no one else is here - there’s only you, and her, and this sublime, intensely intimate moment between you.
There is only one thing left for you to ask, one thing left for you to say.
“Cum for me, Momo.”
She quivers and shakes when she cums, body submitting completely to the pleasure overtaking her.  Her thighs close around your hips. Inside her, her cunt clenches down on your cock so tightly it is almost painful. You let out a groan of pleasure, but it is drowned out by the long, loud moan that leaves her.
The moan ends, and she lies there - quivering, trembling. Her juices and your cum overflow from her filled cunt, dripping onto the bedsheets, ruining them. You release her right wrist and your thumb leaves her clit, and you brace yourself atop her. You’re both breathing heavily, chests heaving, lungs empty.
She’s dirty now, filthy - a far cry from the perfectly dressed, perfectly made-up model beneath the flashing lights of mere hours ago. Your cum stains her body, fills her cock-filled cunt. Sweat glues her once perfectly-styled hair to her flushed face. She is a mess and utterly, completely perfect, somehow all at the same time.
Her eyes glimmer in the darkness of the bedroom. She manages a smile, through the utter exhaustion. 
You return it, and bend to kiss her.
---
“Y’know how people call Paris the City of Light? It’s because it was one of the first European cities to use gas street lamps, in, like, the 1860s. So it was, like, literally, a city of light.”
For not the first time on the trip, you are taken aback by the knowledge Momo liked to drop at her whim, at random times, as though she could have told you these facts at any time but was waiting for the right moment to do so. She wanted to catch you off guard with them, at a time you least expected, right when you’d convinced yourself that there really wasn’t much going on in that head of hers aside from wondering what delightful culinary treat awaited her at her next meal.
She is leaning on a railing of the many bridges that traversed the French capital. Overly ornate gas lamps formed a part of the railing every twenty or so feet, and you follow her gaze up to one of them. You wonder, briefly, how many men and women had looked up at it and wondered about its history over the decades, just as you now did. The history of the city around you weighed heavily on you at the moment, as it often did as you wandered its streets.
It was the fourth day of your trip - after recovering from the exhausting travel and her appearance at the first fashion show, you’d both spent the last few days taking in Paris’ sights and sounds. She had another scheduled appearance in a couple of days before you both returned to Korea the day after, but until then you were both free to wander the French capital.
You’d hit most of the usual tourist traps first, of course - seeing the Eiffel Tower up close, visiting the popular museums and art galleries, eating at upscale restaurants and casual cafes. The sex was wonderful, of course, but so was the company of the young woman next to you. 
You’d thought you’d figured her out long ago. Every day you spent with her proved you more wrong. Every day you spent with her convinced you that you never really knew her at all.
After a moment you return your eyes to Momo, who is still staring with a mix of wonder and amusement at the lamp, a small smile of amusement on her lips. She notices you looking at her and she gives you a quick look, her smile turning warm. You share that moment for a while.
Eventually your gazes drift down to the river below you, and the banks on either side of it. Despite it being the middle of a weekday, there is no shortage of crowds. Citizens and tourists both have taken up spots on the grassy banks, many enjoying the cool shade under the trees lining the walkways that offered some respite from the late summer heat. Some are enjoying a quick lunch, some are sitting and chatting idly, still others are simply sitting in silence, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city around them.
Many of them are couples. Many are flirting - feeding each other bites of cake or salad, whispering sweet nothings in ears, laughing and smiling at every little thing their partner did in the way young people in love did.
“Paris is the City of Love, too,” Momo says, as though reading your mind.
“I can see why,” you answer, looking around you at the green spaces and blooming flowers, the benches and walkways seemingly built for two, the cute restaurants and cafes. Everywhere you looked there was a place ripe for romance, a place for it to bloom, a place for sparks to turn into fires. Falling in love here would be easy. The city itself seemed to encourage it.
Momo slips her arm in yours, her hand giving your bicep a squeeze.
You are instantly on alert. All it took was one random fan with a phone and an image of one of Korea’s most popular stars would be on screens everywhere, accompanied by the salacious rumors and comments that often came part and parcel with such images. Given your recent experience with the photos someone had taken outside Nayeon’s apartment, you knew full well about what could happen when images of you and one of the girls popped up on the internet.
“Momo,” you say, softly, beginning to slide your arm away. But her grasp on you is stronger than you were anticipating, and she holds on to you.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” she says to you, a soft look in her eyes and in the smile on her lips. “Let me have my day.”
She pulls you away from the railing, and you continue your stroll down Paris’ alleys and streets, her arm still locked with yours.
---
The crowds were much thinner here, on this random, relatively secluded park somewhere in Paris, some distance from the tourist traps and busy main streets. You and Momo are lying on your sides on a navy blue blanket she’d bought from a nearby craft fair, having just finished off what were probably the best sandwiches you’d ever had in your entire life. Momo had ordered them for the both of you at a local shop, displaying a rudimentary but adorable French accent as she did so.
You are lying on a slope facing a small wooded area, and the trees, greenery, and fading sunlight of late afternoon provided you some privacy. But you could still hear people chatting faintly some distance away, and nothing was stopping an errant child or curious couple from cresting the small hill and finding you both on its other side. Not that that stopped Momo from playing with the waistband of your pants.
“We really shouldn’t,” you say, as her fingers trace the outline of the belt at your waist, both of you knowing your resistance wouldn’t last long. “I can hear people-”
“Mmm?” she hums, as though she weren’t quite listening to what you were saying, or was simply dismissing it. “Want me to stop?”
“If they see us-”
“I see that you’re not saying no.”
You smirk. “Let’s go back to the hotel. We can-”
“I want you here,” she says, eyes suddenly intense. “Now.”
“We can’t - we’ll make too much noise-”
“Then be quiet,” she responds, her hand having undone your belt, the top button soon following suit.
“And will you?” you tease.
“I won’t be the one cumming at a public park.”
“Really?”
“Really,” she says, drawing her body closer to you on the blanket. With her hand she pulls down your pants only low enough to reveal the bulge in your boxers. With a delicate touch, she slides your underwear down to reveal your cock. You shiver as she touches you, her soft fingers closing around your girth.
“So what, you’re just going to lie there and give me a handjob, and that’s it?”
“Well, no,” she admits, that sultry, sly smile on her lips as she bends forward slightly to give you a short, soft kiss. “I fully expect you to fuck me the way I like back at the hotel. I expect you to leave me dripping. But here…”
“-but here?”
“Here, well, I wore this dress for a reason.”
She’s wearing a loose, floral pattern sundress, one that leaves the perfect, creamy skin of her shoulders and upper chest bare. It is daringly low-cut, displaying a delicious-looking cleavage that you’d snuck more than one glance at over the course of the day. Its material is thin and airy, making the outline of the thin white thong she wore beneath obvious to see - as was the absence of a bra.
Her hand closes around your cock, begins to pump up and down in earnest. You reach up, slide your hand against her cheek, and kiss her.
Your tongues find each other, resume the duel they’d been waging on and off in the four days you’d been in Paris. Your hand slides down her neck, lingering there for a moment, enjoying the feel of her pulse beneath your palm. Between you, her hand continues to pump up and down your shaft, fingers tight around your stiffness. 
Your hand drifts to her shoulder, sliding beneath the thin spaghetti strap of the dress and sliding it down her upper arm. The dress slips over her breast, baring it to your hand.
You caress the firm, round mound, her nipple already poking into your palm. She sighs into your kiss as your fingers close around her bud and tease, pinch, pull. She breaks your kiss for a moment, and you lie there a while, noses grazing each other, breathing heavily against each others’ lips as your hands play with each others’ bodies. Sometimes your gazes are locked, sometimes one or both pairs close, sometimes they are half-lidded. But they always find each other again.
Her hand leaves your aching cock for a moment, and she brings her hand to her mouth. You hear her spit into it. Her eyes are locked on yours the whole while, until the feel of the wetness of her pumping hand around your shaft sends a shiver up your spine that causes your eyes to shut.
“Fuck,” you hiss, through gritted teeth. Momo’s lips find yours, and you sigh your pleasure into her mouth.
“Does that feel good, baby?” she says, softly. Her hand tightens around you, her pace increasing slightly. “Do I look good for you?”
She reaches up with her free hand, slips the other strap of her dress down her shoulder, baring her other breast. She pulls it down further, until she is naked almost from the waist up. For the millionth time on this trip, you are utterly entranced by her chest - their perfect shape, the weight of the one in your hand, the feel of her soft, creamy skin, the way they sat on her chest and moved slightly with every pump of her hand on your cock. 
“You… like my tits, don’t you?” she continues, slightly breathless now. There is a tremble in her voice. It was clear to see in her voice, in the flush on her cheeks, the tightness of her nipples - pleasuring you pleasured her equally.
“I do, Momo. I love them.”
The word elicits a soft, wordless moan from her lips, as though it had triggered something inside her. 
“Cum on them, okay? Cum on me.”
Despite the sharp spikes of pleasure that every movement of her hand sent throughout your body, you find yourself surprised.
“Really? No teasing, no edging this time?”
Momo smiles, despite herself, but the relief is brief, and quickly her eyes become intense again.
“No. I want to see you cum. Just for me, please. Just for me. You said you’d be mine. Just mine. Cum, please. Just for me.”
Your hand leaves her breast, finds her cheek, brings it close for a fierce, passionate kiss. You sigh and moan into each others’ mouths as the pleasure she is creating between your bodies begins to reach a peak.
She breaks the kiss to look into your eyes. 
It strikes you all at once - the intimacy, the closeness, the vulnerability. You are entirely at her mercy in that moment, heart and soul laid entirely bare. She knows who you are, knows your secrets. You can hide nothing from her, and she knows it. 
Somewhere else in the park children are playing, dogs barking, elderly couples going for a late-afternoon stroll, but none of it matters; the entire world is boiled down to the three foot square of the blanket and the wonderful woman you shared it with. Not one other thought - not of the other girls, of this trip, or of the bustling city around you - existed. There was only you, and her, and the pleasure she was creating for you in this private little moment that you two shared. A moment she’d created for the two of you only, that neither of you would tell another soul of - it belonged to the both of you, and no one else.
The past several months had been filled with some of the most intense, erotic, carnal moments in your life - but none as close, as intimate as this.
“Cum for me, please?” she says, almost pleading now, for her as much as for you. “Please, baby. Cum all over me.”
Your breath cuts out, your hand clenches around the side of her head - between you, your cock spasms and spurts thick cum all over Momo’s chest. It lands in heavy streaks across her breasts, her nipples, her collarbones. She sighs with each rope that lands on her skin, the same way she sighed when you filled her cunt - as though it were an equally enjoyable experience for her as it was for you.
“Yes, baby,” she whispers beneath her breath as her pace on your cock slows, fingers still tight around your shaft as she milks each drop of cum from your body. “More, please, more.”
You are drained by now, both of cum and of breath - but your body manages a few more weak spurts of semen that land on the dress bunched beneath her breasts, staining the fabric with thick drops of creamy white. Your hand still clutches at her cheek, your arm trembling slightly as your orgasm winds down. 
You open your eyes to view the mess you’d made of her body. It wasn’t the first time on this trip that you’d seen her chest streaked with your cum, but in the fading sunlight of the Paris afternoon it was somehow more beautiful than the times previous. The thick ropes of semen begin to slide down the round mounds, leaving behind glistening streaks that mark their paths across creamy, perfect skin. 
Your eyes find hers. To your surprise you find them eyes glassy, as though on the verge of tears. The intensity of the moment you’ve shared hits you both, and you find your eyes watering as well.
“Momo,” you say, because she is what your existence is filled with. In that moment, she is all you know.
“I’m here,” she says, softly, lips finding yours.
---
Morning dawned on Paris. Bright rays of gold bathe the city, make it glimmer and shine. It slowly makes its way across its buildings and roads and parks, inevitable, inexorable.
It makes its way through the open balcony window of the hotel suite you’d shared with Momo over the past week. It illuminates the messy sheets and the remnants of mostly-eaten takeout and room service trays, over your mostly-packed luggage, over the navy blue blanket she would take home and treasure, because it would remind her of a week when she felt loved.
Finally, it illuminates the bathroom - unlit by artificial light, it’s a little dimmer than the rest of the suite, meaning the only light that reached Momo’s naked, wet skin is that of the sun.
But you didn’t need much light. The feel of her body against yours, her arms wrapped around your neck and one leg raised against your hip, heel digging into your backside as you slid in and out of her - that was enough.
You tighten your grasp on her ass, holding her upraised leg up, opening her up further, spreading her, stretching her. Your foreheads press against each other, breathing heavily, moaning softly into each others mouths. You kiss, sometimes - little, involuntary movements, acts of affection amidst the passion. You open your eyes to find hers locked on yours, and the shower water flowing down her face makes her appear as though she’s crying. You need to touch her face, need to cradle it, need to make her feel safe. 
You raise your hand to her cheek. Her hands wind through your hair, holding your head, pressing it against her forehead again. Through it all your are fucking her softly, slowly. No teasing or edging here, no playful banter or filthy talk. It is close, intimate, raw.
“I’ll do whatever you want, you know?” she gasps, the rising tone of her voice betraying the depth of her words. “I’ll be whoever you want. Just say you’re mine, please, and I’ll be yours.”
“Momo-”
She presses a finger against your lips. There is need written on her features, of course, and pleasure and lust, but also an genuineness, a realness that you rarely saw in her. Everything about her is laid bare, and the honesty on her lips is plain to see. She meant every word she said.
“Even if you don’t, even if you don’t want me, pretend, okay?” she whispers, barely heard over the patter of the shower on your bodies. “Even if it’s not true, just say it, I need to hear you say it.”
“I’m yours, Momo. I’m yours, I swear.”
The breath leaves her lungs in a long, wistful moan as she cums around your cock. Her cunt tightens, her body quivers. Only your hands on her body keep her upright, keep her back pressed against the cool tile of the shower.
Through the haze of her orgasm she locks eyes with you, her hands cradling your face. There is nothing between you, nowhere to hide, no secrets or mysteries. It feels vulnerable and it feels safe and it feels wonderful, all at the same time.
“Cum inside me,” she says, softly, and soon enough you do, burying yourself inside her, sighing against her shoulder as you fill her yet again. She moans into your ear as you fill her, nails digging into your scalp.
Your orgasms wind their way throughout your bodies, just as they did dozens of times over the past week. But this one doesn’t last as long - perhaps it was the impending end of the week, perhaps it was the words that remained unspoken between you - either way, eventually Momo lets her leg drop from your hip, and you slide out of her body.
You both linger there awhile, the shower dousing you both. Your warm cum leaks out of her, dripping down her still-quivering thighs, joining the water trailing down her leg. She pulls you close, buries her head into your neck. Your arms wrap around each other.
“Momo,” you say, softly, some indeterminate amount of time later. Your flight home was later that morning, and you were already running later than you would have liked. “We have to-”
“I want to stay here,” she says into your neck.
“I know. But we can’t. We have to go.”
Time passes. You remain there, the both of you, breathing heavily against each other. The shower continues to run. The sun continues its advance into the bathroom, illuminating most of it now. Momo turns away from it, nuzzling deeper into your neck, knowing that its appearance signalled the end of the week, the end of the trip.
For many the Paris dawn is beautiful. For Hirai Momo, the light is merciless.
“Momo,” you begin.
“I know,” she answers.
Without any further words or looks, she leaves your arms, leaves the shower and grabs a towel on her way out of the bathroom. You hear the bedroom door shut behind her.
Your gaze follows her, watches her leave. From the doorway of the bathroom you can see the open balcony across the room, where the sun has chased away the last of the night. 
Beyond the balcony Paris continues about its day, adding another tryst, another love story - whatever word could possibly encapsulate the last week you’d spent with Hirai Momo - to the countless others it has borne witness to over the centuries of its history.
---
“So yeah, I guess I’ll see you Thursday? We’re filming the next episode of Time to Twice-”
“Yeah, yeah,” Momo answers, leaning on the doorframe of the apartment she shared with Nayeon. As much as she loved spending time with her members, she liked filming these “reality” shows much less - they were when she was expected to act like the hot but utterly clueless bimbo that the world believed her to be.
“Make sure you get a good night’s sleep the night before. I snuck a peek at the script and they need you to-”
“I know, I know,” she repeats. “Play the dumb airhead.”
You sigh under your breath, knowing how much she hated being portrayed the way she was. You wished you could tell her how much you loved seeing that other side of her - the one that was smarter than she let others believe, the one that knew about the gas lamps in Paris and could speak elementary school French. 
You both linger there in silence for a while as the words you wish you had to comfort her never materialize.
“Momo, about this past week…”
“Just two fuck buddies doing Paris,” Momo declares with surprising zest, although there was something in her eyes that doesn’t quite match with the words leaving her lips. 
“So all that stuff about-”
“Just pillow talk,” she spits, almost on reaction, as though she wanted to cut off that particular line of conversation before it got any further - or if she’d been preparing for you to raise the question and had rehearsed an answer for it. “Just stuff to get me off. Got a romance kink, I guess. Paris, city of love, city of light, you know how it is. That’s all it was. Don’t go thinking I’m in love with you, or anything.”
You aren’t sure you believe her. She felt too honest, too real, too raw on your trip. If she was faking it all - acting - then she was in the wrong profession.
“Okay, then,” you begin, slowly. “I guess I’ll… I guess I’ll see you later.”
“See ya.”
You turn away and begin to head towards the waiting elevator. Midway there you turn to find her still leaning against the doorframe, watching you. A sad smile makes its way onto her lips.
“Hey, Momo?”
She perks up, expectant.
“Thanks.”
Her smile deepens, but her eyes betray her -  there is disappointment in them, as though the word that left your mouth wasn’t what she was expecting, or hoping, to hear.
“No worries! See you Thursday,” she says, as brightly as she could, before closing the door.
She leans her forehead against the closed door for a moment, eyes closing, doing her best to process the past seven days. Her heart pounds against her chest, and she places a hand over it, willing it to calm down.
In her pocket, her phone vibrates. It’s Nayeon. She sighs as she declines the call - dealing with her was the last thing she wanted to do at the moment.
With tired legs, she shuffles her way into the living room of her apartment, where Sana is lounging on the couch with Woody, who has fallen asleep, head on her lap. The younger Japanese girl is idly scrolling through her phone, but she sets it down on the coffee table when Momo enters the living room.
“He doesn’t know, does he?” Sana asks as she begins to play idly with Woody’s hair as though he were a pet and not a whole other human being. She’s wearing only a loose t-shirt and Woody is naked aside from the throw blanket thrown haphazardly across his midsection, making it clear what they were up to mere moments before Momo had arrived.
“About what?” Momo replies, sighing to herself as she enters the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water. The trip had left her drained, and without the energy to deal with Sana and her incessant nosiness.
“That you picked him,” Sana continues, finally looking up to fix Momo with a look. “That you picked him out at the concert that night. He should be your toy, not Chaeyoung’s.”
Momo lets out a sharp breath.
“It doesn’t matter,” the older girl replies. “He’s Chaeyoung’s now. He doesn’t need to know anything more than that.”
“But you wish he did.”
As annoying as Sana could occasionally be, she was often more adept at reading a person than the other girls were. Given how much time they’d spent together, she knew Momo better than most, making it obvious to her from the second she’d arrived what had really happened in Paris.
“He’s not hers yet, not completely,” Sana continues. “If I were you, and if you really have feelings for him, I’d tell him how you feel before Chaeyoung does. Wait too long, and she’ll have him wrapped around her dainty little fingers.”
“You’ve seen the way he acts around her,” Momo replies, setting her water bottle down on the counter and bracing herself against it with her hands, letting her head fall down between her shoulders. “He’s probably on his way to see her right now. He likes her.”
“Does he? I think you should fight her for him. She doesn’t deserve him. You do. He should be yours, not hers.”
Momo raises her head, closes her eyes. It was all too much, all too much to think about right now, minutes after getting home from one of the more eventful weeks of her life. She was exhausted, physically and mentally and emotionally. 
She looks down the hallway at the door he’d just occupied. She wanted nothing more than to return to that hotel room in Paris, with him, and…
She shuts her eyes and leaves the room, hoping some sleep would at least provide her with a temporary reprieve from the million thoughts running through her head.
When she hears Momo’s bedroom door close, Sana picks up her phone from the coffee table and brings it to her ear. 
“Did you hear that?” she asks the person on the line.
“Yes,” Nayeon answers. “That was well done.”
“Thanks, unnie. Don’t you worry - I’ll make sure those two are at each others’ throats. Whoever he ends up with, it won’t be either of them. Then he’ll be all yours for the taking.”
She begins to stand, gently lifting Woody’s head from her lap and placing it on the couch so as to not interrupt his sleep. She is still talking softly with Nayeon as she makes her way to the bathroom.
When he hears the bathroom door close, Woody, who’d been awake from the moment Momo arrived, reaches for his own phone on the coffee table. 
He begins to write a text.
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Author’s Note: lol longest piece I’ve ever written and of course it had to be Momo. she’s the reason why I’m here, after all. :)
Be kind to yourselves and to each other. <3
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