#plus I’d be doing it Alone

[blissfullydead]

Some more club nights are getting closer and I’m worried I might chicken out because I’ll have to somehow get home alone

[luna-the-cretar]

My bank account, watching me spending way more than I make in a single paycheck: girl the fuck are you doing

[cuteniaarts]

Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!

Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3

(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)

Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening:

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[bi-writes]

an eye for an eye | knight!ghost x f!reader

your husband bends to your will. men must learn from difficult lessons how far that bending goes.

type: a continuation of a hand for a hand, but can be read stand-alone (11.6k)

cw: 1600s au, dark!ghost, reader described as curvier/plus-sized, graphic depictions of war + violence, possessive!ghost, war-criminal!ghost, inaccurate historical settings probably, unprotected piv, cumplay, breeding kink, size kink, simon "i'd do anything for my wife no matter the devasting consequences" riley (18+)

Your husband has an insatiable appetite. Such a big man he is; he towers over you, so much so that you must tip your head back always to look up at him. You had to make many arrangements in your house to accommodate his hunger–a pantry stocked full of eggs and less fabric for your skirts.

Your house isn’t like others. Neither you nor Ghost have ever lived in luxury. When he showed you your home for the first time, you had shaken your head–you didn’t believe that such a large place was supposed to be yours, and even now, sometimes you feel like a stranger, out of place when the maids ask you what you want for supper or where you’d like to take your afternoon tea. You don’t like the fuss, the asking, the women that curtsy when you come near, concentrated over the creases in your skirts or the loose thread of your sleeve or the wispy hairs that fall out of your braids. You are told all the time that you must behave like a duchess, that you must poise yourself with your new title and your new money, and you must do the things that duchesses do–but no one says the same to your husband.

He is still allowed to sleep in the barracks. Lick the blood off his gauntlets. Polish his sword in the dirt. He’s still allowed to be everything that you cannot be anymore, he still lives the life he had before.

He still kills; and he is still very, very good at it.

Your queen told you in a letter that the king is very pleased. Ever since your union, Ghost has been quite the conqueror. Bloodthirsty and very determined, your husband has been taking his men across the water. He is not any less impressive off land. Not even the pirates have tried to negotiate; they bend the knee or taste the salt water. You breathe shakily when you read your queen’s letters—her praise for your husband’s conquests, how blessed your family will be and how valuable you are to the crown, how grateful she is that Ghost is no longer a fiend in court but rather a little more polite and a little quieter.

All for your sake. Ghost’s name is now your own, and he refuses to embarrass you now that you have it.

You won’t lie; the bodies that Ghost has stacked since you’ve been wed do not scare you. He’s doing it for you. He has never said it out loud, never told you so, but you know it. He wants to show you what kind man that he is, what kind of soldier—you know he’s trying to prove himself worthy. If he killed a thousand men to have you, how many will he slaughter to keep you?

He sends you letters of his own. Not many, but he does send letters, and while Ghost seems to be ineloquent and entirely too brutish, he has quite the voice when he writes.

To my wife,

The sun falls quicker here. I’d like to come home. Tell me of your day, and I will tell you of mine. There were a fleet of ships that came to meet us at dawn. When we sank three, they begged for us to spare the rest.

I have you to think about now. So I burned them.

Simon

A poet, your beloved.

He signs his real name in his letters. Your eyes skim over most of it–you don’t even blink when he tells you what he does to them. Sometimes he writes in great detail about the screams of a hundred souls, the way burning flesh smells, the taste of dirt in a new place when you know it is finally yours. He doesn’t like having secrets. He tells you all his thoughts, even if they might scare you, because you are his wife, and he has discovered quite quickly that you have been cut from the same cloth.

Even when he is home, and he tells you these things all over again, he can’t help the way his cock hardens when you merely blink and ask him if he has added any scars to his collection.

Ravenous, naughty little duchess, and you are all his. He knows he picked well–he knows, he knows he wasn’t wrong when he saw you across the throne room hiding behind his queen, he knows now that he was right about what he saw in your eyes.

You do hate when he’s away. You’re not used to the maids helping you dress, and you secretly abhor the help. That is why when you hear the shuffle of your house early in the morning, your heart thuds in your chest knowing he’s home.

The staff get antsy when Simon is around. He is very good at keeping an estate for someone that has never had to or ever been taught to, but he leaves the responsibilities with you and only you every time he goes. He doesn’t trust anyone else to do it, and every time he comes back, he makes you sit on one big thigh as he teaches you something new that you need to remember for when he goes away. He demands much of those he employs, and they are eager to please him. Whether it is because they respect him or are afraid of him, you aren’t sure.

Perhaps it’s both.

You sit up as the bedroom door opens. You smile, big and wide and sleepy as he steps into the room. He shuts the door with his boot, slipping his hood off, and you sigh as he grips the clasp of his mask and unhooks it. He tosses it onto the floor, bare-faced, and as he makes his way towards the bed, he sheds the rest of his clothes until he’s completely naked.

You cannot stop yourself from the shaky breath you take. He is all muscle and fat, strong and entirely too scary, but it’s hard to focus on what he really is when he stands before you like this. He has fat thighs, big shoulders, carved muscle of intense labor around his middle and along his biceps. He has large hands with calloused palms and split knuckles, and your eyes meet his own as he comes closer. He’s so gorgeous, even with a face like that. He has a long scar that stretches from one brow to his lower jaw, another that cuts his nose and splits his lip, but those eyes are dark and lovely, and you can’t help the warmth that comes over you when he catches you staring at him, closer, right to his cock that hangs heavy between his legs.

Just as he begins to lower himself onto the bed, you hold out a hand, giggling.

“Simon, if you think you are getting into this bed without a proper bath, you’re mistaken!” You laugh, and he raises a brow.

“Mmm…” He smacks his lips together. “Tha’ right, my lady?” He clicks his tongue. “This is my bed. ’s oll mine. Every blanket…every pillow…” He grips your ankle from under the covers and yanks you towards him. “And every part of you.”

You giggle again, shaking your head, “Please, Simon!” You push him away with your toes. “They only changed the sheets yesterday. You’ll dirty them…” You flutter your lashes. “Will you bathe if I join you?”

He grins wide, licking over his teeth.

“Can’t refuse an offer like tha’.”

You hold out your hand for him, and he takes it gently. You watch as he brings your knuckles towards his mouth, and you bite back a smile when he decides to kiss each one, slow. He tugs finally, pulling you up, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he hoists you up into his arms. You would worry about your weight normally, but Simon holds you so easily, barely even a grunt as he wraps your legs around his middle. You don’t waste another second, cupping his cheeks in your hands and kissing him softly.

It’s never just a kiss with Simon. He slides one of his hands up your back, into your hair, and you whine as he tips your head back just enough to slip his tongue into your mouth. Simon doesn’t just kiss, he consumes. What he did to get back to you, the things he endured, the places he has seen and the bodies he has buried and burned and scattered across the places he now calls country, it’s always to get back to this place.

To you.

“How’s my boy?” He asks when you pull away. He carries you to another room, to where the tub sits, and he rings a bell by the door to call the maids in. You snatch a robe off a hook and cover him with it as he sits with you, but all he does is put a few fingers under your chin and make you look at him again. “Oi. Asked ya question, luv.”

Your lip wobbles a little, and you look away.

“I…”  You wait until the maids have gone to fetch hot water to tell him. “I bled while you were gone. I…”  You smooth your hands over the robe, distracting yourself. “I’m…I’m sorry, Simon.”

You close your eyes as he leans close, resting his forehead against yours, and you shake a little as he lets out a warm breath against your lips. He moves a warm hand over your soft stomach, cupping you there, and you lean your head back a little at the tender touch.

“It will happen,” he says finally, and your mouth opens to respond, but he sticks his thumb between your lips to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear you blame yourself. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his, for not being here with you, for not be able to take care of you. You give in, suckling on the salt of him, and he grits his teeth as he watches you. “I know. Seen it in m’dreams.”

Simon has dreams. Lots of dreams, but he tells you that they are not dreams, they are glimpses into something that has already happened. When you asked if he was some kind of seer, the kind that the king used to have at parties, Simon doesn’t laugh.

He says the dreams are why he knows he won’t die. Why he is never afraid, because he knows somewhere behind his eyes what’s to come even if he didn’t see the entire painting of it. It is why he knew he would marry you; it is why he paid you so much attention, why he knew he would win his battles, why he always knows whose blood it is in his mouth because he has tasted their death before and relishes in the knowing of it all, in the certainty.

It’s never I think, it is always I know, and Simon is nothing if he is not the most honest man that you know.

So if he says you will have his babe, it is as good as truth. As green as the grass grows beneath his feet, as blue as his sky, and as red as the blood that is caked underneath his nails.

When the tub is filled with water, you let Simon sink into it first. You kneel beside it, picking up a glass of oil, pouring it into your palms before sinking your hands into his hair. It’s gotten longer since he left, in need of a cut, but you smile when he leans his head back into your shoulder. You can feel his content as he relaxes into you, and you admire his physique as you use the warm water and scrub the mud and grime off of him.

“I missed you, husband,” you whisper, and he only lets you massage his hair for a few more moments before he grips you by the wrist and tugs you forward, right into the bath. “Simon!” you laugh, “my night dress—oh!—it’s ruined!”

“Too far away,” he mutters, practically ripping the silk off of you as he tosses it besides the bath. “Mmm…” He cups your breasts with two big hands, smoothing his thumbs over your nipples, and you whine a little as he pulls at them just enough to make them stiffen. “Y’should be naked when I come home,” he says lowly. “I’ll soil y’r bloody gown next time, m’lady.”

You giggle, and he smiles. A real smile. As real as he’ll ever give anyone, maybe the only one that anyone has ever even seen. He has never shown his face in court, and while it angers the women and irks the men, you revel in the fact that all of this is only for you.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

You kiss him softly. The water sloshes, warm and inviting, and sometimes you forget your life used to be anything but joy. A year ago, you would not believe that you would be here, titled, wealthy, in a stone room lit by candles bathing with a blood hungry ghost.

A year ago, you trembled whenever he looked at you. You cowered when you heard his footsteps. What a stupid little girl you had been. What a fool. She had no idea what she could have, the kinds of things she could hold in her hand.

Real power wasn’t being able to command a room with your words. Real power was being able to say anything and have it be believed as truth. Real power was making someone look in one direction and have them see what you see, even if what you see isn’t real.

He lays you down in your bed afterward and eats. Your wet hair soaks the sheets, but you can’t seem to be really bothered as he fits your legs over his shoulders and bends you at the waist, his mouth suctioned to your clit as he eats you slowly. One of his hands is spread out over your tummy, the other you can hear making a squelch as he fists his own cock. It’s slow and methodical, and he slides his tongue between your folds firm, catching what dribbles from you on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it and leans in for more.

He has eaten you in nearly every room in your house. Frightened the cooks tossing you onto the dining table, given a servant a scare as he ducked under your skirts in the library, had the gardeners fleeing as he dropped you onto the grass near the lake and disappeared with a frenzy to eat your cunt during sunrise. It’s maddening, the kind of need that Simon requires, but it’s hard to refuse when you feel so warm and bubbly and happy after he’s finished. A pampered princess you are, never lifting a finger, only awake long enough when he’s home to eat until you’re full and cum until you fall asleep again.

Maybe that’s why you’re not pregnant yet. Simon likes to be here, between your thighs, mouth fixed on your wet pussy until he’s practically exhausted himself with a sore jaw and lax tongue.

He kisses you sloppy after. Licking into your mouth, practically spitting onto your tongue, wanting you to taste—tastes so good, luvvie, don’t ya see, yeah?—wanting you to know why he’s so eager to be on his knees all the time.

You sniffle, a little dizzy, shaking your head.

“’s not what I really want,” is all you whimper, and he nods, because he knows, he always knows.

“I know, luv. I know wot ya really need.”

“I must be broken,” you sob, cradling his face in your hands, and he shakes his head.

“Not broken,” Simon assures you. He speaks so surely that it’s hard not to believe him. “It wasn’t time.”

“You can’t see the future, Simon! You don’t know!” You cry, and he snarls a little, shaking his head again.

“You listen t’me,” he growls. You shake a little as he grabs your face with one hand, fixing your jaw under his grip as he holds onto you firmly. “Wot I say goes. Y’r my wife, so listen t’me, and listen t’me good. Y’r not broken. Not time. Say it back t’me.”

Your lip trembles, and he rattles your head a little.

“Say it,” he snaps, and you hiccup.

“It’s not time,” you whisper, and he plants a fat kiss onto your tear-soaked lips.

“Just need my cock, luv,” he murmurs. “Tha’s oll. Just need me t’fuck it outta ya.”

You nod, pressing your face to his, and he tuts, reaching down and spreading your legs wide to accommodate him between them as he lays over you.

“’s oll y’need,” he repeats, and you nod again.

You have to take another bath in the same morning; and this time, you weren’t able to walk there.

You like when Simon is home because it’s quiet. The only one that dotes on you here is Simon. The maids do not dress you or do your hair or moisturize your skin. It’s always Simon.

You smile at him in the mirror as you sit at your vanity. He has a brush in one hand, and he’s using it delicately to detangle your hair how you like. His hands are practiced and gentle, and when he finishes, he leans over you as he starts to part your hair to braid it. He did not have sisters, but his mother had him always do her hair after she lost the use of her hands with age. You don’t know where his mother is, but you assume she is not here anymore, because he never invites you to meet her.

He oils your skin. He slips the robe off of you, revealing your damp skin from the bath, and he slathers oil in his hands before using it to soften your skin. He takes his time, smoothing those big hands over your shoulders, down your back, along your arms. You tilt your head back when he warms your breasts, squeezing and fondling your tits. He murmurs in your ear the entire time, and he has to fuck you with his fingers to quiet you when he stops because just his hands on your tits has you wet all over again.

He dresses you, too. Helps you slip into your undergarments, fastens the cage for your skirts over your hips. He ties them skillfully, and after he layers your skirts over the farthingale, he gets you into your corset. It’s intimate as he does this. Even with your wide skirt, he comes closer, over your shoulder, and he tugs at the laces at your back, pulling it tight with firm grunts. You sigh when he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hand skimming over your breasts as they sit nice and perky between stiff fabric and whalebone.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, unnerving…the way ya look…”

You close your eyes, “S-Simon, please…I’m already dressed…”

He chuckles, “I know. I know.”

But when he has to leave again, you nearly come with him. You fasten his armor for him, help him slip each piece of leather on and click every piece of metal into place. You tie his cloak and slip his mask on, and you try and duck your head when you flip his hood up, but he catches you, tilting your chin up.

He huffs when he sees your face. Tears sliding down your cheeks, lips wet with them, eyes all glassy and red. He draws you up onto your toes, pressing his mouth to yours through the mask, and you hold onto him tightly, digging your nails into his chest armor and threatening to not let go.

“I want to go.“

“No.”

“Simon, let me go,” You gasp, begging, gripping his hood in firm fists and not caring that his armor is cutting into your front. “Let me go with you, I can’t do this anymore, I want to go, I can do it.”

You aren’t sure if Simon underestimates you. You think it’s more that he does not want you to see him in a place where he is most true. Where he wears the least of a disguise. He does not know he wears it the least with you, and that you have already seen his blood and how it curdles under his skin. You like it that way. You like him angry…and mean…and terrible. You like him when his sword is dirty and his armor needs polishing and his mind thinks of nothing else besides war. He should know this by now. He should know that you see him and see what he is even more than his king, more than his men.

He couldn’t scare you, even if he tried.

“War is not where women go,” Simon snaps. His tone is harsh, even for you, and you stiffen when he grips you by the jaw and rattles your head a little. “Especially not one like you, my love. War would eat ya, eat ya fuckin’ whole. Look at ya…” He huffs, deep, sliding that gloved hand down your throat to slip it beneath the neckline of your dress and fondle your breast with a firm grip. “Beautiful. Meant for my lips…for these dresses…meant to be held in my hands, not bleed from stray arrows, because tha’ is surely the least of wot they would do t’ya if they knew ya were my wife. Now ya will wipe these tears, ‘n see me off, and then ya will come back inside like a good girl, ‘n you will wait for me here until I come back.”

Your bottom lip trembles, and you scowl up at him. Not indifference, but frustration, and Simon doesn’t think it suits you.

“I’m sick of waiting for you, Simon,” you spit. “It’s all I ever do, wait. Wait for you to come back, alive or dead, I never know. And don’t say you do this for country, that is a lie.” You shove him backwards, but he barely budges when your hands touch his chest, a rigid wall that does not give. “You do it because you like it. You’re a bloodthirsty dog, and all you do is bend to our king’s will.”

A lie, but you tell it anyways, because you want something, and he will not give it to you.

“That is my duty.”

“Your duty is to me,” you snap. “Kings come and go, but I will not.” Simon stills. He glares down at you from behind his mask, and perhaps this might terrify his men, but that you are not. You are his wife, and you are protected by that title alone. The only man to ever lay a hand on you would not live to see another second, himself included. “Now you will let me join you, or so help me God, Simon, I will not be here when you return.”

You do not expect the full-bellied laugh that leaves him. His armor shakes with him, and you grind your teeth, narrowing your eyes. He uses his thumb to force his mask up, and then he cups the back of your head and draws you in for a sloppy kiss. You resist at first, but when he feeds you his tongue, you melt. You kiss him back, letting him draw you closer, and you sigh as he tangles his fingers into your hair and cradles you with those big hands.

There is nothing more to say. Simon neither confirms nor denies, but you taste it in his mouth, his devotion. Not wrong, not right, but just so–he has many responsibilities, but you are the only one that will remain the same. One day, his king will die, and he will serve another, but the space you have made beside him will never change. Even when you die, because he knows you will go before him, there will never be someone else to fill it. You and you only, the woman he found and made his, the one he demanded lest he kill his own country for it, it will always be you. Soft and sweet, you are, but the Lord knew Simon could only have one woman, and he made it be you; the one spitfire enough to defy her own king because she trusted his love enough for it.

Would you commit treason to save his life? Would you watch a king die if it meant your beloved lived? 

Would he?

He thinks about what you have said when he takes his fleet across the water. He runs his tongue over his teeth behind his mask, breathing deep when he thinks about your proclamations of duty. Of change. Of what remains when other things move, of the kind of life that waits for him when he comes and goes with a king’s order. He thinks about how easily he is taken away from you, and he knows there is truth in what you feel. It is not really Simon that sacrifices, it is what he leaves behind, and that is you.

It’s never angered him before. He had accepted the fact, as early as your wedding day, that he would leave and come back, then leave again. It has always been the way of his life, come desire or not, so it bothers him that of all the things that surprised him in his life, it would be missing someone that shocked him the most.

Missing his wife. Missing the serene perfection of one woman, and the perfect place between her soft thighs. Every day that he finds himself between them is the best day of his life, he reckons, so now he feels bitter about staring at a freezing ocean amongst his men because he will go weeks without her.

Her. Her. Her.

He is bitter, yes, until he is not.

It comes in a letter from a messenger on horseback. They have been stationed in a foreign land for weeks now, watching slowly as the stone walls of a castle at their front crumples day after day from the stones filled with powder that ignite what is wood and break what is rock. The letter is sealed with wax, with the motif of a snake. It is given directly to Simon, whose name is scribbled in the letter, and when he reads it, he tastes ichor and smoke.

So the great phantom has come to seal my fate. I am not in the business of letting what is mine be taken. Even if you have brought your all, it won’t be taken from me.

I heard you have a beautiful new wife. I heard you paid for her in blood.

I shall do the same. I will hang your sword above our marriage bed.

Ghost is not someone that bends to the threats from foe he cannot look in the eye. Words are so empty. It is nothing like when he stands just a few meters apart from them, eyes fixed against one another, as they decide whether today they want to live or they want to die. The letter means nothing, but he’s surprised by the heat that bubbles under his ribs at the mention of his bride. He meant it when he said you were not meant for war, and that meant in this regard, too–nobody was allowed to talk about you, not like this, not ever.

When his king orders him home, Ghost crumples the note and tosses it into embers. He watches it burn, and then he orders his men to set to flame the ground around the stone walls.

So men like him can be goaded, it seems. His resolve is not as strong as he thought.

The weeks make you anxious. All you do is sit and collect dues and tell the maids which dress you want to wear and which you do not. It is peaceful and boring, and you wish Simon was here to make your days more exciting, but he is not.

His letters are the only things that keep you occupied, truly. He writes to you about war and loneliness, and you write to him about the mundane of domesticity and the ache he leaves behind. Sometimes, his letters come folded with pressed flowers he finds along the way, and you start to collect them, putting them away in small boxes or using them as bookmarks as you go through Simon’s library.

He has many books. His most loved books are those of war, of history, and you smooth your fingers over the pages he has dogeared and find comfort in reading the same words that he once did. You learn, as well. While in your studies as a girl, they made you learn arithmetic and the flowery bits of history and art, here in Simon’s house, you learn of strategy and weaponry and military tactic. Sometimes you disagree, and you write about these disagreements to Simon, and he writes back, pleased with your observations. He told you once that if you were a man, he would want you in that tent with him, beside him, deciding on which formations to take and when to strike. You responded saying that you could be that for him anyway. What did your sex have anything to do with whether you were right or wrong?

Simon agreed.

But I would never invite you here, dear wife. You have to understand that.

When your queen asks for your audience for dinner, you oblige easily; finally, you have something to do rather than add up numbers or sign a document on Simon’s behalf or read another fucking book.

You don’t want to wear all the costume your maids insist on, but you appease them after they repeatedly explain to you what your title means. With a drawn face, you let them tie your corset and layer your skirts, and you watch in the mirror as they braid your hair and drape large, obnoxious jewels over you. You grimace at the tiara they fit into your hair, and your elderly handmaid pinches your cheeks and tells you to put on a fair countenance, Your Grace, lest you make the Duke look ungrateful.

You bite your tongue from snapping at her. She should know that Simon would say nothing about your countenance; all he would do is fix whatever was bothering you until you smiled again.

You arrive early enough to have tea. Your queen is so excited to see you; she gushes when you meet her in the throne room, pulling you up from your curtsy so she can hug you tight, squealing. When you try to address her with a curt “Your Majesty,” she shakes her head, pressing her hands to your cheeks and giggling, “No need for formalities now. Call me Victoria.”

You hide your displeasure with a small smile. Now that you are no longer her lady-in-waiting, she allows you her name. Is it because she sees you more as equals, or because now you’re allowed to be somewhat of friends?

You must be some kind of friend. She sizes you up like you are one. She wears England’s colors this afternoon. A fire red dress adorned with gold accents, a dragon pin holding her shawl. She wears magnificent red and gold jewelry, but she’s looking at your dress, and you can see the slight twitch of her eye. You are wearing French lace, and she doesn’t like it. Or maybe she doesn’t like the color, the accents of navy blue and silver that you wear.

The skull motif that is woven into your tiara and printed on your coat and sewn into your dress. Does it insult her? That all your life, you wore nothing but browns and beiges and grays, were invisible to her, and now you represent your house, visit her as your guest, and bear an honorable name?

You were no one when you served her. Just a girl, no close family, no friends, just a distant uncle who gave you to the crown that hoped you could be of service. That was to be your duty for all your life–to serve the king’s wife until she wanted you no more or until she was gone. To cater to her every need and every wish, no matter the time of day or night.

Now you sit across her, more noble. Refined. Wearing a dress she despises, perhaps because she likes it more than her own.

Over tea, she gossips about the other ladies she has visit. You’ve heard this before, but you’ve never been included in the conversation. She talks to you, and she wants to hear your opinion, and you find yourself uneasy as you try to think of what to say. She is your queen, and you want her to like you. When you worked for her, you earned her favor by always warming up her jewels before she put them on, by making sure she had her tea ready in the morning at her bedside, by always holding the fan she so loved for when she inevitably had a hot flash. Now, as her friend, you weren’t exactly sure what to do. You suck in a soft breath and look at her, and then you purse your lips.

You think it best to agree with her. To be on her side. You might not be her direct servant any longer, but you still must fall under her favor. A queen’s favor can be just as powerful, especially if she occasionally has the ear of her husband.

“Well, that’s not very kind of her,” you say finally, and she laughs.

“No! She’s such a prude. I think her husband doesn’t sleep in her bed enough, if you know what I mean,” she winks at you. You giggle at that. “Speaking of husbands–” She pops another cake in her mouth. “How is yours?”

You reach up and tug at your necklace a bit, smiling nervously.

“Oh, uh…” You clear your throat, “He’s doing very well. I hear his latest campaign is quite the success. His majesty is very smart, heading for the east that way, I’m sure they will be victorious soon enough.”

Victoria smiles at the thought of her husband. His intelligence. She always used to talk to you about how many hours he worked, how she hated when he was away, how she wished he was home more so he could give her a son because she was so, so lonely.

“Wise words from the duchess, aye, my love?”

You jump a bit at the low voice from behind, and when you turn, you gasp, immediately standing and falling into a delicate curtsy. John Price waves his hand, coming further into the room, shaking his head.

“It’s alright,” he tells you. “Please, sit. You’re here as my guest.”

You stand and lift your head, trying to relax. You take a seat, smiling nervously, and Victoria smiles giddily at her husband. When he bends to kiss her cheek, she fawns, reaching for his hand and squeezing it before taking another piece of tart and eating it. John hums before motioning for one of the staff to fill your cup again with tea. He eyes you curiously, taking in your appearance. You sit up at that, performatively brushing off over the skull pattern on your corset. John runs his tongue over his teeth, smoothing a big palm down his wife’s long coils of hair.

“Since you’re here, I’d like a word, if that’s alright,” John says to you. His tone carries a little more authority now, and Victoria sighs, whining a little.

“John, please, she’s my friend. Can’t it wait–”

“That wasn’t a question, Victoria,” John bites. Her face falls a little. She swallows and tucks her hands into her lap. You’re reminded as you look at the slight wobble of her lip that there is no one truly above John Price, not even her. You keep your face neutral, but if you were invisible, you’d pity her.

What a shame her husband sees her as less than. How embarrassing. Your Simon would never. Your Simon waits until you finish speaking before speaking himself. Your husband kneels to take off your shoes, your husband tears your skirts to get a taste of you, your husband used his teeth to sever a man’s throat just to have your hand.

What did John Price do to get his wife? Who did John Price kill to have her hand? How many bruises did he earn around his knees on their wedding night from eating her out? As many as Simon, whose knees were black and blue by morning?

No, you suppose not. How unfortunate. How pathetic.

Victoria picks up her skirt and stands, pasting a big smile on her face. It doesn’t reach her eyes, and you can see the way her hands shake a little as she scurries off. She scowls as soon as she turns away from John, clearly annoyed.

“I’ll go check on dinner,” she says, but it is soft and unenthusiastic.

When she goes, the room falls quiet. At the nod of John’s head, the staff leave, and you keep still in your seat as John sits across from you, picking up one of the cakes in front of him and breaking off a piece to busy himself. He keeps his eyes on his task of cutting up the cake in small pieces, focused on his hands and how they work. You watch him carefully, steeling yourself.

You anticipate a conversation between man and woman, not a king and his lesser.

“Simon’s been away for some time. I bet that’s difficult for you.”

You straighten your posture, realizing what this conversation will be. By his tone, John seems to think you a bored, stupid housewife, perhaps. Uneducated. A woman, no thoughts in her head. You let your face relax, and you fold your hands in your lap. Maybe now is the time John should learn who you are and who you are not.

What you have become and what you no longer are.

“I do just fine, Your Majesty,” you say finally. You pick up a spoon and drop a cube of sugar into your tea, and you stir, picking it up to take a long sip. John is curious by your content. You have a quick tongue. “I could say the same to you, couldn’t I?”

John laughs. He narrows his eyes a bit at your clever response, taking a large bite of the cake and running a cloth over his beard. His eyes sparkle a little.

“So you know.”

“Know what, Your Majesty?”

“You know I gave Simon orders. And you know he didn’t listen to me.”

You purse your lips, but he sees the shine in your eyes. The lack of surprise. His face twitches a bit, and you shake your head. You blink slow, and it irks him to see you so calm. He is your king, and Simon answers to him, and you are his wife, so you must answer, too.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I could have your husband’s head cut off for treason for that, you’re aware, aren’t you?”

You tilt your head to the side. What an odd thing for John to say. What an odd thing for John to contemplate, since it would never come to pass. “Don’t be daft, my king. You wouldn’t want to do that.”

John slams his fist on the table, making the plates and cups rattle with his frustration, but you do not even flinch. You blink, stone-faced, and it makes his nostrils flare. He recognizes that glare, he knows it well. He has seen it before, stared it down many times in rooms just like this. Only now, he is not fighting for land, he fights for control of the one man that he has always been able to rely on. Simon has followed him into battles outnumbered by a thousand men, and only now he ignores an order? Only now he chooses something different?

“Now, let’s be civil, Your Majesty,” you say softly. You smile at him, leaning your head in your hand. “Is there something that you need from me? I have a feeling you might have encouraged this dinner just so you could see me in passing, so why don’t you just ask me what you wanted to ask me?”

John lets out a deep breath, leaning his elbows on the table, lowering his voice. He leans towards you, and you admire how blue his eyes are. John is quite a handsome king, but he does not captivate you. It has been a long time since John has tasted blood, and he lacks the edge that you crave dearly.

“I need him back here, is what I need,” John murmurs.

“My king, I couldn’t get him back here any more than you could, even if I wanted to.”

“Now who’s being daft?”

You scoff, leaning back in your chair. John is not a stupid man. He created a beast of a man, and he is trying not to poke it too hard. You shift, brushing down your skirts, and you let out a low breath.

“Why did he refuse?” You ask finally.

“What?”

“Why does he ignore your order to come back?” You ask again. “I can’t think of a lot of reasons why he would stay. So why did he ignore you?”

John clicks his tongue, smoothing a few of his fingers over his beard. He averts his eyes, looking out the tall windows, frowning a little at the grim weather. The weather is always grim here, but it irks him at the moment, makes him scowl a little harder.

“I was…informed that there was some sort of letter,” John explains. “Some threat.”

“I don’t follow. He gets lots of threats. And terrible letters.”

“Was about you this time, Your Grace.”

You close your eyes at that, shaking your head. Simon would never be so foolish as to be baited by baseless threats. He barely bats an eye when someone even in front of him draws his sword. He is so comforted by his ability to win, by his dreams and his visions that have not yet happened.

“That’s absurd,” you breathe. “Simon wouldn’t…”

John chuckles, but there is no humor there. “Wouldn’t he?”

“I still don’t understand what you expect me to do,” you roll your eyes, looking away. “Simon is…he’s not…he doesn’t listen. It’s why he’s good at this, isn’t it? He doesn’t really take orders, he’s…I…”

John has never complained before about the way Simon chooses to lead. Oftentimes, it is an order ignored that has made it so that he delivered another crown at John’s feet. Simon asks for forgiveness, not permission, and John has barely batted at eye at it. He sees Simon as some kind of distant son, but this refusal bothers him so?

John leans forward. “You need to understand something here, Simon is a rabid dog,” he spits. “And sometimes I let him off his lead, but this isn’t like anything I’ve had to deal with. I need you to call him back here.” He scoots closer. “England needs you to call him back here. To me.”

You narrow your eyes a little. England needs you to call him back? What kind of sick sense of patriotism is he trying to instill in you? John is stupider than he looks, to think a woman like you would show loyalty to country. You are loyal to your husband, and nothing else, because what has king and country ever really done for a woman like you except for dispose of you?

You wear Simon’s colors, not John’s, and you will wear them to your deathbed.

“If I do this for you, my king, then you owe me,” you whisper. He laughs again, no humor, and he picks up a goblet and fills it to the brim with wine. He drinks half before slamming it down onto the table, spilling it over his hand.

“Kings do not owe their subjects.”

“Quite right, Your Majesty,” you agree, picking up your napkin and dropping it onto the table. You stand, giving him a polite curtsy. “But I am not doing this as your subject.”

“Everything you do is as my subject.”

“You put your entire right to the throne on the back of one man,” you say softly. You are not accusing him, you’re reminding him of a truth. “Simon is why…he’s why your counsel still listens to you. He’s why your people are free from famine, why…why your taxes get paid on time, why your kingdom is still standing, no thanks to your father who wasted this place’s fortune on women and liquor.” You shake your head. “You have an eye for conquest, Your Majesty, but you lack the execution of any plan you conjure.”

You are not wrong, and John knows this, and it’s why he hasn’t spoken up yet or interrupted you. The man before, his own father, was a drunkard who spent all their money. He drank himself into the grave, and the only reason John stands before you now is because of Simon. A man who he fought beside, who he commanded, who once John’s duty became reality took up the mantle and finished what his father never could.

John would be in the next history book you read because of Simon, and it’s Simon’s name that will never be written. They do not bestow legacy to men who serve other men.

“Where…Where did you learn to speak to men this way?” John scoffs. “I am your king.”

You must have hit a soft spot. John is defensive now, and men only deflect and insult when they are cornered with the truth. They don’t like being held in front of a mirror.

“You are king because my husband made it so,” you correct him gently. “And Simon is a loyal dog, and that is good for your sake, because if he had any desire for your seat, it would be his.” You come closer, your heels sounding, and John glares down at you; but you glare right back because you are protected by your name and what you can do with it. John knows this, and it angers him, but he seems to have difficulty facing the truths of his own making. “But he is not your dog anymore. He’s mine.”

Your pen on paper is aggressive. You can tell because the splotches of ink are deep, bleeding black sinking into white as you put angry word to parchment. Not even a fortnight later, you are playing cards with Victoria, and you see Simon’s silhouette standing in the doorway, hood shadowing his masked face as he observes. When you look over your shoulder where John sits, and you meet his eyes, he looks away from you with a grim understanding.

Simon answers your call. Always.

At dinner, John is in better spirits. He drinks with a big smile, eats more than one plate, and he picks Victoria up by the waist to make her dance with him when he asks for the music to be played louder. Simon sits, fidgety, gloved hands moving in and out of fists as he watches you cut into your food and eat it with a blank face. He huffs beside you, his armor stiffening as he sits up straight, and you let your fork clatter onto your plate as you turn to glare at him.

“You were thinking with your cock, Simon,” you spit. “That is how men like you get killed.”

“You ‘ave no idea how men like me get killed because there are no men like me,” Simon growls. You roll your eyes, standing, and he grips your wrist angrily, tugging you close until you fall into his lap. You sigh, shaking your head, putting your hands on his broad shoulders and making him look at you.

“Maybe,” you whisper. “But I’m not wrong. It is how you’ll lose. You know better than that, Simon. To fight someone because they taunted you in a letter, it’s playing the fool.” You cup his cheeks, keeping his eyes on yours. “You don’t need me to tell you that, and yet here we are.”

He breathes slow, closing his eyes for just a moment. He thinks he came for this, just a little. For clarity. Reason. It comes from you in waves, and it’s comforting to hear. It is something he knew, and yet it only makes sense now that you have said it.

“I know,” Simon mutters. “I know. Y’r right. I’m sorry, luv.”

You ask him to apologize when he undresses you. You ask him to apologize again when he sinks into a hot bath with you. You ask him a third time when he is in your bed, a heavy weight between your thighs as he licks and sucks at the soft skin of your tummy. He begs, lowly, let me ‘ave it, and you will, but he has to say he’s sorry again.

“‘m sorry,” he breathes, sucking on your inner thigh, and you close your thighs around his head, forcing his mouth against your cunt.

“Again, Simon,” you whisper. “I wanna hear it again.”

“‘m sorry,” he slides a rough tongue between your folds, breathing shakily when he tastes the oil that he smoothed over your skin only moments ago. You taste so good, you smell so lovely, coming off of you like fumes blinding his senses so that nothing else but you makes any sense at all. When you open your eyes, you think about where you are, and you nearly come thinking about what you have wrapped around your finger.

Not even your king tells your husband what to do. Not even your king commands his men, they won’t listen, he’s not who they turn to when things go belly-up, it’s your husband, and your husband answers to you.

You weren’t sure about it until today. Seeing him when you asked him to come, it flooded you with something that hurt. You could tell from even so far away that Simon was salivating under that mask. You knew the only thing separating his mouth from your cunt were the other people around him (and they were not privy to seeing you naked).

It is such a thing to observe. John needed a lead on Simon when he was his dog. You need no such mechanism. Simon never strays, not with you. He sits proper when you ask, and he speaks when spoken to. He tears at unwanted flesh, and he comes when you call.

John cannot give him all that he desires. Perhaps he thought what Simon truly wanted was fame and fortune. Legacy. But like most things men do, John does not observe. He takes in only what is right in front of him, and he makes assumptions. Simon is not like other men. Fame and fortune do not matter. He does not care about legacy. What matters to Simon is what he can hold in his hands. The ground under his feet. The steel in his hand. The woman underneath him, spreading her legs, inviting him in.

You love Simon. You love Simon more than anything in the entire world, but it would be a lie to say that you are not at some advantage here. Simon is all-consuming. He is the pinnacle of duty and honor and everything that a man is supposed to be, but Simon is also weak. There is something that he wanted more than anything in the world, and now that he has it, he will do anything to keep it, and that makes him vulnerable. Subject to all kinds of new things. Revenge. Retaliation. Pain.

Manipulation.

Maybe you should feel bad about it. Maybe you should feel guilty, but it’s hard to feel anything like it when there’s a big bear of a man between your thighs slobbering on your pussy like dessert. It’s hard to feel anything but bliss when he’s tracing the letters of his name into your cunt and making you see stars and fucking you into the silk sheets like it’s the last time he’ll ever have you.

It is men who govern your world, and if this is how you must move in it, then so be it. You will not feel bad. You will not be sorry for doing what anyone else would do. John thought he could keep his hand there, muzzle his mutt, but you like him this way, and you’re certain John doesn’t fuck the way you do.

He’s mine.

It isn’t John that commands an army, it’s you; or maybe your cunt, but that belongs to you, too, so it is you, isn’t it? You’re the one that lets him inside, that whispers in his ear, that tells him things you know he wants to hear to make things move in your favor, so it’s you, right?

Not John. Not Victoria. Not their counsel. You. They have stepped on you your entire life. They have made you small and inferior and sad for all of your existence, and they gave you something feral knowing it could eat you alive, and now you are the hand that feeds, and they are forgetting that if they bite too hard, you have something that will surely bite harder.

A collar would suit him, you think. He would look so pretty. He already is, the terrible beast, prettiest thing you’ve ever seen (the necklace your drape over him does just fine, a pendant with his motif that you hope reminds him of you). You don’t care if people would say his face is quite ugly. It is, very much so, but you never see him this way. Whenever that mask falls, your stomach flips. He takes your breath away. His intensity, his raw form of love, the look on his face–there is nothing else in the entire world that will love you the way he loves you.

“You came back for me?” You ask. You have a leg tangled between his, and his fingers are between your thighs, a shadow of a smirk on his face as he feels the mixture of your cum and his. He grunts a little, and you tilt your head to look up at him, your chin on his chest.

“‘f course,” Simon mutters, and you kiss his chest gently, keeping your eyes on his.

“But not for John.”

He turns his head, looking down at you more intently, and he scoffs. You know it’s true, but you want to hear it, anyways. You want to hear Simon admit, unknowingly, that you are the tether.

“John is afraid, and I don’t listen to ‘im when he’s afraid. Makes bad choices.”

It’s almost adorable that this is what Simon tells himself. That he comes back for his own sake, and not for yours, even though they are one and the same, intertwined and inseparable.

“Simon,” you say softly, and he sighs, his eyes closing briefly when you kiss him gently. “You have to listen to your king when he asks you to come back. Making a…rash decision about war strategy is one thing, but…” You cup his cheek gently. “Make things easier for me, husband. If he asks you to come back, you come back.”

This time, at least. Just this time.

Simon snarls a bit, but you swallow it when you kiss him. You maneuver yourself over him, straddling his hips, and he grunts as you sink down on him. He swells hard again very quickly, releasing a deep breath as you give a slow roll of your hips.

“Make things easy for me, my love,” you whisper, and he leans his head back, putting two big hands on your ass and moving you with ease. “Appease your king, yes? For me?”

“Can’t say no when y’r pussy squeezes me like tha’, sweet’eart,” Simon groans, and you giggle, planting your hands on his chest and starting to move a little faster. You lean your head back, your mouth falling open, and you gasp when you sink down completely, your ass touching his thick thighs as you tighten around him. “Fuckin’ Christ–”

“I hate when you go,” you whine, digging your nails into his chest. He hisses, planting his feet on the bed, and he fucks up into you with a renewed fervor. “Hate when you’re not here, Simon, I-I miss you, miss this–”

“Nghh…fuck, I know,” Simon pants. “Can feel it. Feel you.” You squeal when he grips you by the waist and turns you over. He makes it seem so easy, tossing your weight underneath him, and your arms circle around his neck as you draw him closer, hanging onto him. “Y’r so fuckin’ pretty…”

“Simon–”

He kisses to devour. His jaw hinges wide to kiss you sloppy, breathing in the moans that you can’t contain. Simon always fucks so well, stretching your thighs as wide as they will accommodate so he can make room for the goliath of himself that he is. He suffocates, in a good way, and his cock never fails to stretch you for all that you are worth. Simon holds your jaw in place as he grinds into you, relishing in the wet smack of his hips against yours. The fat of you satisfies him. It makes him growl with delight when he grabs onto wide hips, your fat arse, the body that you hold that tells him you are fed and warm and content. It draws his grin wider, and it makes him drool thinking about having you again and again and again, until you beg him for reprieve and his heir sits in your womb.

Simon fucks for sport. He wants to see how stupid he can make you. He wants to know how long you’ll cry for, how fat he can make your tears. He wants to know how loud you will cry, how many times he can make you cum before you’re incoherent, he wants to know the extent to which he can use you that you will still be awake enough to say his name just one more time. Simon is not satisfied until he pushes your limits.

It is what a Riley does. They endure, and they eat, and they consume, and they take pleasure in the all-encompassing indulgement of things they have never been allowed to have. You are a woman, so he knows this will come easy for you. So often, he knows, women are not allowed to indulge at all, so he wants you to. He wants you to cry and moan and eat, and he wants you to do it bearing his name so that no one will ever tell you no.

Simon says no to kings, and they placate, or they die. His wife will be offered the same respect, and he’ll stand behind her with a sword to make it law. When you bear his children, he will expect the same of them–to give their mother utter devotion, lest they answer to his hand. There is no one above you, not God, not country, and certainly not blood. They will know what their father did to have you, and they will spill the same amount of blood to keep it that way. They will do it for you, and then they will do it for their own lovers, and if they don’t have the same sentiments, that love is not true, and Simon will not give his blessing.

Everything else is trivial. He knows this, understands it, because history repeats itself. It is cyclical, and you are right. Kings come and go. Sons die to other sons, fathers make bad decisions, and crowns are passed to bastards and back again, until lineage is merely spectacle and power changes hands often enough to lose generational merit. There is one thing that remains, and it is what you do while you are on earth, while you are standing on the ground you were born on. Even faiths change; when men find it suitable, they change the rules, and then you worship a different God, so Simon sees no point in staying loyal to any of it.

Instead, he is true to what he knows. To what he can see and what he can feel. With John, he remembers being a young man, fighting alongside him. He follows John, to an extent, because he knows what it is like to share blood with him on a muddy hill and take an arrow for him.

With you, time stands still. He saw you in a room, and he had to have you, and he brought nations to ruin to make certain no one would bat an eye when he asked for your hand. He saw you in a dream, too–he saw you laying in his bed of furs, wearing nothing but a tiara of his making, wet between the thighs because that is how it’s meant to be. He recognized you when he saw you that first time, and he doesn’t know how, but saying no to you, really saying no, will change that vision, and he couldn’t bear that.

Your voice echoes. You’re moaning, overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop. The hair around his cock rubs your clit too many times, and when you come around him, you’re a shaking, withering thing, back bowed and nipples pebbled. Your toes curl as you cry from the starry-eyed, hot pleasure, but he keeps moving, chasing something in the distance that he can taste, so close.

Yes, Simon ignored his king. Yes, Simon did not ignore you. Yes, Simon admits, he came when you called, and he doesn’t feel bad about it, he doesn’t care how it seems. He would do it again if he had the chance. John could give him the same answer as you in every timeline, but he will only move if the command comes from you, and yes, Simon knows it makes him a liability, but crowns come with costs, and this is the one John must pay.

Simon will fight any of John’s enemies, but he won’t fight fate. He won’t fight what has already been seen, and he won’t fight what he already knows will happen.

With Simon’s cock in your mouth, you can make him deliver on promises. Sucking on the girth of him, you can make him an honest man. Taking inside of your mouth what you can swallow, you can make Simon do your bidding, and it is a hard lesson that John learns.

“Do this for me,” you slobber against the underside of his cock, and Simon relents.

“Make me happy,” you say, swirling your fingers against your puffy pussy, and Simon kneels with an open mouth.

“Just this once,” you whisper with his cum on your tongue, and Simon seals his choice with his hands on your tits and the taste of himself in his mouth.

When you make eyes with John across the low lights of the throne room, he can’t help the way he admires you. You stand beside Simon, looking the essence of nobility and reverence in another intricate silver and blue dress. The train of your skirt glitters with delicate jewels hand sewn into the fabric, and the headpiece you wear adorns a skull insignia. Your corset has been tied just right, thanks to Simon’s hand, and your own fingers are clasped between his. Your corset and jewels are of exquisite detail–one of the newest designs from Paris, structured and elegant and accentuating every curve of soft skin.

You glow in the room. His wife must be wearing a dress just as expensive, probably more, and yet his eyes (and everyone else’s) cannot help but follow you. Your own eyes won’t leave Simon; you flutter your lashes whenever he looks down at you, big smile on your face, and even when there are people curtsying and bowing to you and giving Simon their gratitude between bites of cake and glugs of wine, your attention never really strays. 

John feels inadequate in his own fortress; suddenly, red and gold sicken him, and England tastes sour in his mouth.

In a few generations, John’s house will likely fall. He will make heirs that will fail him, he knows this. In a few centuries, his family will not sit in the same place, but a Riley will remain right where they are supposed to be. Banners of blue and silver will always fly. If Simon does not make sure of that, then you will.

It’s what happens when you force women like you to their knees. When they grow up invisible, always in the shadows, forgotten and sold to the next man who will pay a higher price, it’s what you learned to do. It’s all you’ve ever known, to make the best out of something terrible.

Simon is the same, in that sense. You understand him in a way his king will never be able to. Simon has nothing, and neither do you, and Simon was stepped on and berated and tortured to the point of no return. It is why blood does not scare him and why death doesn’t come knocking. Time will be the only thing capable of killing him, and everyone that stands up to him learns that when they eat his blade.

In the quiet of the evening, Simon undresses you. He sits behind you on the bed, fingers pinching the bows at your back and unraveling them. He traces your corset, thumb circling over the skull pattern of the belt around the small of your waist, and he tastes something warm in his mouth at the sight of it. You look so beautiful–more beautiful than he’s ever seen you maybe, decorated in his colors and wearing his motif and sitting so pretty.

“You wanna know something…funny?” You ask quietly. Simon finds the ties of your skirts and starts to undo them. He grunts in reply; he might sound standoffish, but you know he’s listening. “John…John made it…he makes it seem like you don’t really listen to him. He implied that…in the face of adversity, you might only listen to me.” You put your hands on the front of your corset to keep it from falling. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Wot’s so funny?”

You swallow, looking down. Your hands fidget, and you take a closer look at the ring you wear, the delicate gold band he gave you not so long ago.

“I…”

“Mmm…might be right, innit?” Simon snickers after a moment. You feel him stand, and you look over your shoulder as he peels his mask off and grins down at you. He tilts his head to the side, and you smile back at him a little. “Do anythin’ for ya. Disobeying a king…” Simon cackles, tearing your corset off, tossing it onto the floor as he walks you backwards. “Ignoring one…” He shrugs, “Oll in a day, love.”

“He can hang you for it,” you whisper. “Cut off your head. Cut off mine.”

Simon lays you back on the bed, spreading you out, climbing over you. You blink up at him, and he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I would ‘ave seen it. I would know.”

He would have seen it in a dream. It would have come to him in a reflection in a pool of blood on the battlefield. It would have come to him, the voices in his head, he would have heard them amongst screaming, or perhaps in the void that he finds his mind in when he’s between your plush thighs.

You can’t help the smile that graces your face when Simon kisses the curve where your jaw meets your neck. It is fun, you suppose. Fun to control the tides that set the courses of history. It is fun and almost unbelievable that a king bends to the will of one man’s wife just because it solidifies his name.

You wrap your hand around the twine that dangles from Simon’s neck. It twirls around your fingers, easy, solid. Simon’s eyes are dark, and they are yours, and when you smile, so does he, because this is where you are meant to be, forever and always.

“What if I want more?” You ask. Simon hums, low from within his chest, and you run your tongue over your teeth. “Did you see that in your dreams, Simon? Hmm? Do you know what I’m asking for? What it is that I really want?”

Simon smiles. A dark one, with teeth, and you know he hears it. What more means for a duke and his duchess. What more means when you have all the money you could ever want, all the land you could ever need.

What more means when you have climbed your way to the top and still desire more. More, more, more. There are not many steps left to climb. There are not many places left to take, not much more of the world that can really be yours, but Simon looks ravenous, and Simon looks hungry, and if you fuck him now, you’ll have him right where you want him.

When you tug on what hangs around his neck, Simon bends. Simon follows.

[justaplacetotalk]

I don’t wanna go home.

[the-travelling-witch]

COOL BLOG IDEA! UR OCS INTERACTING WITH PEOPLE! Or just posting as if they were running that blog

i already don’t write enough for my ocs as is, i literally cannot sustain a blog on that alone, especially given that there’s like maybe three people who care about them

also it doesn’t fit the url :]

[redhotarsenic]

Love sleeping right after having a quite frankly unnecessary argument btw it’s like my body’s resetting itself <3

[kissitbttr]

miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude

-

“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”

miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.

does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.

“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.

the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,

he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,

God, you’re such a perfection.

“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”

Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.

“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,

rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,

“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”

he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips

you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.

“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,

“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,

your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”

he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.

his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”

“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,

giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,

Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”

“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”

he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”

“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.

“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.

turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”

his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,

“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing

and they say romance is dead.

-

cake testing with miggy!

[scratxhed-cd]

sometimes I get artistic inspiration or I see someone who has really put a lot of time into perfecting their craft and a part of me longs for a reality where I didn’t feel intimidated at pursuing an artistic career or artistic studies

[joedirtymadre]

Your First Fight

Headcanon 🫶 (Pls send more requests)

LUFFY + ZORO + SANJI + LAW + ACE + SABO

LUFFY

“I don’t get why you’re so mad at me,” he said as he watched you pace around the room. “Are you serious? I asked you to stay behind on the ship, because you know this island is known to be a common Navy stop! All I needed was to grab some herbs and plants for the garden and who do I see rocketing into the middle of the plaza?” You asked, knowing damn well who it was. “Me…” he replied softly. “Exactly! I asked you to stay behind and watch the ship with the others! Why can’t you do the simplest of tasks?” You yelled. “So what if I left? I got bored, and why are you trying to tell me what to do?! If you want me to remind you, I’m your captain! You listen to me!” He yelled back.

“Well it obviously doesn’t look like it, since you were hurling at max speed into a Navy base island without a care in the world! Grow up! I asked you to stay behind because we had others who needed to stock up on supplies, which means you had to stay behind and make sure we’re not discovered or the ship isn’t hijacked!” You yelled. “We would have been fine! We always escape, so why are you so mad at me?” He asked. “Just because it hasn’t happened doesn’t mean it won’t. Plus I asked you to do something and you just ignored it,” You replied. “Well if you want to boss people around so much, go find your own ship. Maybe you’ll be a better captain,” he said coldly as he walked out of the bedroom.

ZORO

“Hey stop!” You called out to your boyfriend. You were both currently lost… or he was lost, you knew where to go, but Zoro wasn’t listening. “Zoro, I told you a billion times that the ship is the other way,” you said. “I know where it is! You don’t need to babysit me, I’m not a little kid,” he sighed. “I’m not trying to,” you said. “Well it feels like it… like I can’t take a break,” he grumbled. “Ok… but why are you so upset? I’m just giving you dire-“ he cut you off. “Because you’re always doing this!” He shouted as he stopped and looked at you.

“Huh?” You asked. “You’re always… suffocating me. I can never have a moment to myself, ever since we started dating. It’s like you’re a leech and I can never get rid of you for 5 seconds,” he groaned. “Oh…” your voice cracked. “I didn’t m-mean…” you trailed off. “Wait… (Y/N), I didn’t mean all that. I’m just-“ you cut him off. “No… it’s fine, I understand… You just want some space…I’ll head back to the ship, I’ll see you there,” you said as you turned on your heels and ran towards the ship. “(Y/N)!” You heard as you continued to run off.

SANJI

You slowly approached your boyfriend, excited to help him with whatever he needs. “Hey!” You smiled. “Hi beautiful, how are you?” He smiled back. “I’m great, so what are we making today?” You asked. “Nami-swan asked if I could make her some fruit tarts so I’ll be preparing that for her,” he smiled. “Mind if I help? If you finish quickly we can go-“ he cut you off. “Sorry (Y/N), but I’d hate for this to be messed up. It’s better if I do it alone,” he explained.

“Oh… but I normally help you in the kitchen, why can’t I help you with this one?” You asked, confused. “To make sure it’s perfect for my Nami-swan! Plus, you still haven’t mastered certain techniques, and I’d hate for this treat to not be perfect for my beloved Nami,” he swooned. “Seriously?” You huffed. “I didn’t mean to offend you my love, I was just answering your question,” he replied as he began preparing the dessert. “Ok fine, I’ll get out of your way. Maybe your beloved Nami will come help you out in the future,” you said coldly and began walking out of the kitchen. “(Y/N)! Hey! Wait!” He called out, but you continued to your bedroom.

LAW

“(Y/N) you’ve been at that for the past 6 hours, it’s time to take a break,” Law said as he watched you continue to try to fix the electrical issue that’s been causing problems with the motor. “But I can’t just stop now… what if the motor stops when we’re trying to escape from someone?” You asked, feeling frustrated by the uncooperative wires. “Come on, maybe you need some fresh air. We’ve been ducked at this island for a whole day and you haven’t even looked outside to see it,” he sighed. “Well I’m sorry that I’m trying to fix your ship!” You huffed. “That’s fine, but you need a break,” he said.

“Well I don’t want a break, what I want to do is fix this stupid thing!” You groaned. “And I really don’t need someone breathing down my neck when I’m trying to do something!” You added. “I’m just trying to look out for you, but if you’re gonna act like this then I’m leaving,” he said softly and headed towards the exit. “Good, maybe I’ll finally be able to fix this,” you glared as he walked out.

ACE

“Come on babe, are you really still mad at me?” Ace asked as he followed you to your bedroom. “What makes you think that?” You asked as you tried to shut the door in his face, but he quickly stopped it and stepped in. “That’s why,” he frowned. “Just making sure to close the door behind me,” you said as you gave a tight smile. “Come on, what’s the big deal? I’m sorry I left without telling you,” he said as he tried to hold you. “You just don’t understand,” you huffed as you brushed off his embrace. “Then tell me,” he said as he sat on your bed.

“What if you died?” You said bluntly. “Well… that’s being optimistic…” Ace said awkwardly. “I’m serious, what if you died? You really left without me knowing, and sure you made it back safe, but what if next time you’re not so lucky? And I end up finding out my boyfriend died in the middle of the sea, and I couldn’t even say goodbye to him…” you said softly. “Ok, ok… well I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left. Even though you know I’ll always be safe. So, forgive me now?” He smiled. “No, because you’re not taking me seriously!” You groaned. “Why are you still mad at me? I said, " I'm sorry, don’t worry so much!” He yelled back. “I worry because I love you, but if you’re so dense, then just get out! I don’t know why I even put up with you. When it obviously shows how little you care about my feelings!” You shouted as you pushed Ace out of your room. “Wait, (Y/N) I’m sorry! Let’s keep-“ but you cut his words off with the door.

SABO

“Sabo~” you cooed. “Yes (Y/N)?” He replied. “I’m bored, can you please put the book down for a second and let’s go walk around the island or grab something to eat?” You asked hopefully. “Not today, plus you know we’re not supposed to be venturing out when he has to be on duty,” he explained. “I know, but we both get and hour break from standing guard and you’ve been spending each break reading. Can’t we do something, the two of us? Together?” You added. “Why? We’re spending time together right now,” he rolled his eyes.

Your eyes fell to the floor, “Alright,” you said softly as you headed back to the base. “What’s wrong?” Sabo called out. “Nothing, just gonna head inside,” you replied. You heard footsteps behind you, “What’s wrong? Tell me,” he said as he grabbed your arm. “Sabo we’ve been here for 2 weeks and you don’t want to do any normal couple stuff with me? Not even for an hour?” You asked. “(Y/N) you know-“ you cut him off. “Yeah I know, I also know how hard it is to have a relationship in our positions, but that didn't stop you from asking me out… Plus… I’ve seen you go out with Koala on a few occasions, you didn’t seem to have an issue with the rules then,” you glared. He quickly released your arm. “Hold on, you’re misunderstanding that (Y/N). You know Koala and I-“ you cut him off once again. “I know, but it doesn't mean you’re off having fun with another girl. While your real girlfriend is stuck here watching you read a book,” you said softly before turning on your heels and heading back towards the base.

[waitimcomingtoo]

This Means War

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: Peter and his crush on you feel threatened when your childhood best friend Harley Keener comes to visit and clearly harbors feelings for you

Masterlist

“Do you think I’d explode if I drank this?” You asked and swished around the insides of the beaker you were holding. Peter looked up at you through his lab goggled and chuckled.

“I don’t know. You should try it.”

“You say that now but you’d be so sad if I exploded.” You insisted. “You’d have no one to watch Over the Hedge with.”

“Wait, can we watch Over the Hedge tonight?” He pleaded. “I forgot about that movie. I love it so much.”

“I know you do. Which is why you’re gonna be sad and alone watching it tonight and thinking wow, I wish I didn’t let my best friend explode.” You shrugged and put the beaker down.

“Um, excuse you. I would never be best friends with a girl. You have cooties and go to Jupiter to get more stupider.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” You chortled. “Because I actually went to college to get more knowledge. It’s boys who went to Jupiter to get more stupider.”

“But if I, as a boy, successfully figured out how to travel to Jupiter, wouldn’t that make me the smarter one? Since I cracked interplanetary travel?”

“I think you should drink this.” You said after a beat of silence and held the beaker up. Peter laughed and you did too. He snuck another glance at you as you combined the contents of two flasks and made a tiny explosion. You often accompanied him in the lab when he was at the Avengers tower despite not being much of a scientist yourself. You just liked to help and watch as he did his thing.

“Thanks for helping me, by the way.” Peter said. “I’m sure you have a million other things you’d rather be doing than helping me develop new kinds of web fluid.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrugged. “If you throw out the words “tornado web”, of course I’m gonna want to help you make that possible. Plus, I like spending time in the lab with you.”

“You do? Because so do I.” He said as a blush covered his face. You looked up from what you were working on and gave him a smile. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and cleared his throat.

“Um, so, I’m just gonna throw this out there and you can tell me how you feel.” Peter began. “I was wondering if maybe sometime you’d want to-“

“Where is she?” Peter was cut off by an unfamiliar voice booming through the lab. You immediately looked up and pulled your goggles down.

“Harley?” You asked, sending a twinge of jealousy down to Peter’s stomach.

“Who?” He asked you. His question was answered by a tall, sandy blonde guy walking into the lab. He wore an oversized corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows that made him look the kind of effortlessly cool Peter could only dream of looking.

“Harley!” You exclaimed and put your beaker down to run to him. Peter watched with furrowed eyebrows as you threw your arms around Harley’s neck and hugged him tightly. Harley wrapped both arms around you and lifted you off the ground as he spun around.

“There’s my girl. I missed you so much.” He said into your ear as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms.

“I missed you too.” You told him as you pulled out of the hug but stayed in his arms. Peter felt like he was about to pass out and maybe even die over the sight in front of him so he cleared his throat to remind you he was there.

“Hi. Sorry, your girl? Who is this guy?” Peter asked you through a forced laugh as he shit daggers at Harley.

“Oh, sorry. Peter, this is Harley Keener. He’s my dad’s friend.” You explained as you slid out of Harley’s embrace but kept an arm around his torso.

“Your dad’s friend? How old is he?” Peter asked.

“He is your age. Feel free to direct any of your questions at me, by the way.” Harley said sarcastically but playfully to Peter.

“Harley, this is Peter. My dad’s other young adult male friend.” You told Harley. Harley held out his hand and Peter shook it as hard as he could while never breaking eye contact with who he had now deemed his competition.

“Right. I’ve heard of you. You’re the one that can shrink down really small, right?” Harley asked while still shaking Peters hand. Peter narrowed his eyes at Harley when he registered the subtle shade and tightened his grip.

“No. That’s Antman. Peter is Spiderman.” You explained. Peter gave you a look that told you to stop talking since you had just revealed his identity.

“It’s okay. We can trust Harley. He’s known everyone’s secret alias’s from before the Avengers were even a thing. He’s not gonna tell anybody.” You assured Peter.

“Yeah, you can trust me. But sorry for the mix up. I just assumed you had shrunk yourself to be that short.” Harley smirked as he stopped shaking Peter’s hand.

“I’m not short.” Peter defended. “I’m the average height of a woman.”

“I bet you are.” Harley snorted. “You said it was Peter, right?”

“Yes. A man’s name. That makes one of us.” Peter mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“That’s weird. You’ve never mentioned him, Sands.” Harley said to you as he slung an arm over your shoulders. Peters jaw tightened as his eyes flickered between you and Harley.

“Sands?” Peter asked you.

“Oh, it’s an old nickname from when we were kids that he still insists on using for some reason.” You said and playfully rolled your eyes.

“How cute.” Peter scrunched his nose. “Who doesn’t love nicknames?”

“I’m guessing you do, Spiderman. How did you get your powers anyway? Did you fall into a giant tank of spiders or something?” Harley asked, making you laugh.

“No. No one has a giant tank of spiders just lying around uncovered. I got bitten. And then it got infected. And now I’m really sticky and sensitive to loud noises and don’t need glasses anymore.” Peter stated with zero amusement in his voice.

“Hm. I’m starting to see why you didn’t bring this guy up, Sands.” Harley whispered in your ear but Peter still heard. He gulped and felt his jealousy grow as you leaned into Harley to hear him better.

“I’m sorry, how did you say you two know each other?” Peter asked through another fake laugh.

“My dad befriended Harley when we were kids. He’s a family friend now. He and his mom come over for holidays and family dinner sometimes but I haven’t seen him in a while since his band went on tour.”

Peter fought the urge to laugh at him being in a band but didn’t when he remembered that you had a thing for band guys. He looked Harley up and down and had to admit that he was your type to a T.

“So you grew up together? Thats great. You must have a real sibling bond now after knowing each other all those years. And you know what they say about siblings.“

“And what do they say about siblings?” Harley asked him with an amused smile.

“Well I didn’t think I’d have to explain why incest is bad to you but I guess I don’t know how you do things down in…wherever you’re from.”

“I’m originally from Tennessee. And you’re right, we do have a special bond. Y/n was my best friend before her dad sent her to fancy private school and she got all pretty and made rich friends.” Harley teased and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

“Hey. We’re still friends.” You insisted.

“Best friends, though?” He asked skeptically. You laughed and looked at Peter, whose expression immediately made you drop your smile. You and Harley were not as close as you used to be and in his absence, you’d grown close to Peter. In that moment, you didn’t really know who you considered your best friend.

“Peter and I were actually just in the middle of making something. You can totally stick around and help but I know you’re not much of a science guy.” You said to change the subject.

“That’s okay. I’m gonna go say hi to your mom and catch up with you later, all right?” Harley asked as he placed a hand on each of your shoulders. He was so touchy with you and to make matters worse, you looked perfectly comfortable with it. Despite you and Peter being close, you were never the type of friends to show physical affection.

“Okay. Thanks for saying hi. We’ll talk later.” You replied.

“We will. Now come on. Bring it in.” Harley smiled and opened his arms to you. Your eyes flicked to Peter again who looked like someone had take his batteries out. You felt inexplicably guilty as you stepped into Harley’s arms for a hug.

“Missed you.” Harley hummed as he rubbed his hand in circles on your back.

“Missed you too.” You said as you stared into Peter’s eyes over Harley’s shoulder. Harley gave your arm a squeeze before leaving the lab, leaving you and Peter in awkward silence for a while.

“What?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“You really never mentioned me to him?” Peter asked quietly.

“I have. I definitely told him about the time you got your finger stuck in that park bench.”

“Okay, well that was really traumatic for me so thanks for bringing that up. I’m glad that’s the one thing worth mentioning about me.” Peter grumbled and went back to working on his web fluid.

“Peter, come on.” You groaned. “Don’t be mad at me. I talk about you all the time. He probably just didn’t remember because I usually call you “my friend” when I tell a story about you since he doesn’t know you.”

“Okay. That makes sense. But how come you never mentioned him to me? Did you know want me to know about this other guy best friend or something?”

“I have mentioned him. Remember I told you about the friend I used to play house with? But we’d always fight because we both wanted to be the dog?”

“He definitely looks the part of the dog.” Peter mumbled.

“Hey.” You laughed. “Be nice. He’s my friend.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little weird that this whole time there was this guy you have whole history with and I didn’t know anything about him until today. I guess I just thought we knew everything about each other.” Peter said without looking you in the eyes.

“You’re right. It is weird. I guess I just never really thought about explicitly telling you about him. He’s just kinda been a passing figure in my stories from my childhood. But you know, you and I have deep history too. So deep that when you and I are together, I’m not thinking about other people I know. I’m only thinking about you and how God damn annoying you are when you ignore my ideas but then magically come up with the exact same one ten minutes later.”

“Because only men are allowed to have good ideas.” Peter laughed now that you had put some of his nerves to rest.

“You’re right. Sorry, sir. I forgot.” You said meekly, making Peter laugh. He was able to relax now that you talked it out but he was still curious.

“So, did you and Harry-“

“Harley.” You corrected.

“Yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “Did you guys ever date or anything?”

You were quiet for a minute which was exactly what Peter was afraid of. It looked like you were thinking of something, a memory that Peter didn’t have access to but desperately wished he did.

“No. We were only ever friends.” You said finally.

“But did you ever like him? Like, like like him?”

“Like like like?” You teased him.

“You’re avoiding the question.” Peter said without sharing in your laughter. You stopped smiling and shrugged a little.

“I don’t know. I’ve known him a really long time. So yeah, I’m sure there were a few times where I wondered if we were meant to be more than friends. But nothing ever happened between us.”

“Oh.” Peter said curtly and nodded his head. You snuck a glance at Peter but he was looking down so you couldn’t tell what his face was doing.

“Why do you ask?” You wondered.

“I’m just curious since I don’t know anything about the alleged childhood best friend of my young adult best friend.”

“Well don’t be. Because there’s nothing to know.”

“You’ve been friends with him since you were kids but there’s nothing to know? How boring is this guy?” Peter snorted and hoped you’d say he was the least interesting person you knew.

“He’s not boring. You remind me of him a lot, actually. You guys are very similar.”

“Does that mean you’ve ever wondered about us?” Peter asked before he could stop himself. You froze and looked up at Peter who was bright red under his goggles.

“Um…” You began. Before you had a chance to finish that thought, the contents of your beaker exploded and webs shot all over your section of the lab table. You jumped in surprise and Peter ran over to you to pull you away from the explosion. He kept you behind his back as he threw a towel over the smoking beaker to snuff it out.

“Maybe that’s enough lab work for the day.” You said as the smoke alarms began to blare. Peter covered his sensitive ears with his hands and you smiled apologetically before putting your hands on top of his to further block out the noise.

“I have, by the way. I have wondered about us.” You admitted as you looked into his eyes.

“What? What about pus?” Peter shouted over the noise. You smiled tightly and shook your head.

“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”

A few days later, you and Peter were back in the lab to work on some things. Harley was still visiting, much to Peter’s dismay. But nevertheless, he was grateful to have alone time in the lab with you without any interruptions. That is, of course, until you were interrupted.

“Hey, you.” Harley greeted as he walked into the lab in water another oversized jacket that made him look like the love interest in an 80s movie.

“Hey, you.” You smiled in response while Peter discreetly rolled his eyes.

“Hello Peter.” Harley said with a tight smile.

“Hey, Harry.” Peter replied. Harley caught the intentional misnomer but didn’t say anything.

“Woah. Why does it smell like badussy in here?” Harley grimaced as he sniffed the air.

“Stop.” You groaned. “It does not.”

“What’s badussy?” Peter asked.

“Um, butt, dick and pussy. Obviously.” Harley replied as if Peter should have already known that.

“No. Not obviously. I only know what two thirds of those smell like, so.” Peter shrugged.

“You’re telling me you’ve never walked into a humid public bathroom and it smelled like straight up cooch in there?” You asked Peter.

“Um, no.” Peter stated. “I have not. Men’s public bathrooms usually smell like wide open ass. No notes of cooch.”

“He’s right.” Harley agreed. “Especially New York bathrooms. And there’s usually poop or blood or after birth smeared on the walls.”

Peter stifled a laugh and turned his head when he found it harder than he expected. Harley noticed Peter laughing and smirked.

“It’s okay. You can laugh at my jokes.” Harley told him.

“I wasn’t.” Peter lied and held in another laugh.

“You so were. You guys don’t have to sworn enemies, you know. You’re allowed to be friends.” You told them.

“No we can’t.” Harley shook his head.

“He’s right. Shockingly. We can’t.” Peter agreed.

“Why not? You’re like the helvetica and comic sans version of each other.”

“Who’s comic sans?” Peter asked at the same time Harley said, “I call helvetica.”

“See?” You laughed. “You guys are meant to be friends. So get off your high horses and French kiss each other already.”

“We are so not gonna French kiss.” Peter mumbled.

“Yeah. If I’m French kissing anyone in this room, it’s not gonna be him.” Harley replied. His sentence both flirted with you and took a dig at Peter, giving Harley the upper hand once again.

“She doesn’t want to French kiss anyone. She infamously thinks that’s the grossest form of kissing. I’m surprised you don’t know that. I thought you guys were best friends.” Peter tilted his head to the side just to piss Harley off. Harley took the bait and folded his lips in.

“I’m surprised too. When did she tell you that? Did she mention it while you guys were braiding each other’s hair and making foul smelling potions?” Harley asked and swished the contents of the beaker around.

“First of all, they’re not potions because we’re not Minecraft witches.” Peter snapped. “And secondly, we don’t braid each other’s hair. She gave me one braid one time when my barber actually left a long strand of hair and I wanted a tiny padawan braid.”

“You’re telling me this smoking beaker of green fluid isn’t a potion? What the hell even is this? Fuel for a fart gun?” Harley grimaced and put the beaker down. You laughed at Harley’s questions, sending white hot jealousy through Peter’s veins. He could feel you slipped through his fingers and falling right into Harley’s arms.

“No. Because I’m not a character from Despicable Me, it’s not fuel for a fart gun.” Peter replied and snatched the beaker.

“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you made a love potion to get her to fall for you. Because I hate to tell you this, but it’s not gonna work. No matter how many strands of her hair or fingernail clippings you threw in there.”

“Stop teasing him.” You warned. “It’s a not a love potion or a fart gun. We’re trying to make a web fluid that doubles as a stink bomb in case he needs to make a quick escape.”

“Ew. What the hell is web fluid? And where does it come out?” Harley grimaced and looked Peter up and down.

“For a dollar, I’ll show you.” Peter said with a wink.

“Web fluid is one of Peters many inventions. It helps him swing from building to building.” You explained.

“Oh yeah? Why do you have to make it in a lab? Shouldn’t Spiderman be able to produce his own webs?” Harley asked Peter.

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you be in school or an AA meeting for skinny jeans or something?” Peter shot back, making you laugh.

“How would it be an AA meeting if it’s for skinny jeans? Wouldn’t that make is skinny jeans anonymous?” Harley pulled apart his joke, making Peter clench his jaw.

“Well I don’t attend the meetings so I’m not sure what they’re called.” Peter shrugged and looked away.

“Right, right. Hey, why don’t you tell him what you said about my skinny jeans?” Harley said to you.

“I said nothing.” You mumbled.

“Come on. Tell him what you said.” Harley laughed and poked your side. Peter watched the interaction and clenched his toes in his shoes.

“What did you say?” Peter asked you, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“I said I liked them because they remind me of the frat boy pictures of Harry and Niall from back in the day, okay? Specifically that picture with the yellow hat and white shirt. Is that what you all wanted to hear? Are you both happy now?”

Peter discreetly punched the table out of frustration because he knew exactly what photo you were talking about. He knew because you had shown it to him when teaching him out the epic high and lows of reading One Direction at a formative age.

“Well she once told me that my outfit reminded her of Alex’s hot Italian boyfriend from Wizards of Waverly Place.” Peter replied in an attempt to level the playing field.

“Dean Moriarty.” You gasped. “He was so fucking hot.”

“Oh yeah. I remember him. We used to watch that show together after school. In my living room. Sharing one blanket.” Harley recalled the memory while looking at Peter to see if that bothered him as much as he hoped.

“Okay well I see your one musty blanket and raise you the time she sat on my lap because there weren’t enough seats in the car. And her pony tail was in my mouth for the whole ride. Sounds like a really comfortable blanket, though. Congrats.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Guys, stop. I can’t listen to you trying to one up each other with what you think are impressive things. I’m friends with both of you and that’s it. I’m not gonna be the yard stick in your dick measuring contest right now.”

“Yard stick?” Harley laughed. “Damn. What type of guys have you been dating?”

“Not you, obviously.” Peter mumbled.

“And why is that obvious?” Harley asked him.

“Because you’re wearing the Bella Hadid of skinny jeans right now and they don’t leave much to the imagination.” Peter shrugged. You shot him a look but he wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t even know what that means.” Harley snorted.

“It means your jeans are really tight, Keen.” You whispered to him. A smile tugged at Harley’s lips over the nickname and he took that as an opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“Sorry. You know I’m not great with pop culture references. I’m more into the classics.”

“You literally just mentioned frat Harry and Niall but okay.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“Stop fighting.” You warned. “This weird little competition you have going on it stupid and unnecessary. I want you guys to be friends. Then we can all hang out.”

“We can never be friends, Sands.” Harley told you.

“Yeah. That was the second time the broken clock was right.” Peter agreed. “Because he’s Gale and I’m Peeta. He’s Jacob and I’m Edward. He’s Jesse and I’m Jake. He’s Tom Hardy and I’m Chris Pine in that movie we watched where they’re both spies and fall in love with Reese Witherspoon.”

“This Means War.” You snapped your fingers when you remember the name of the movie he was talking about.

“Hold on. I’m pretty sure you made yourself the guy who gets the girl in all those examples.” Harley pointed out.

“And I’m pretty sure you 100% understand pop culture references so I’m not sure why you lied a minute ago.” Peter replied.

“If you’re gonna keep this up I’m leaving.” You told them.

“Fine. We’ll stop. But if you’re not too busy with this web stuff, I could use your help with a song.”

“You sing?” Peter sighed in defeat. He had hoped Harley was just the water boy or something for the band he was in.

“A little.” Harley shrugged.

“He’s being modest.” You insisted. “Harley has a great voice. And he plays the guitar. You should come with me the next time his band has a show. He’s the frontman.

“Jesus Christ. Of course he’s the frontman. Do you ride a motorcycle too?” Peter asked mockingly.

“Yes, actually.” Harley replied. He had Peter beat in the cool bad boy department and they both knew it.

“Did you bring it?” You gasped and squeezed Harley’s arm.

“I did. You want to take a ride and go get some food?” He asked you.

“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled excitedly.

“You’re leaving?” Peter huffed like a little kid.

“You should come.” You replied. “You haven’t eaten yet. And we can show Harley around the neighborhood.”

“No, thank you. I need to finish this. By myself.” Peter grumbled as he stared daggers at Harley. Harley just smirked and gave Peter a shrug that said “better luck next time”.

“While you straddle a guitar players bike.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“I said I hope the weather stays nice.” Peter lied through an exaggerated smile.

Peter tried to stay busy in the lab for a while but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you and Harley were doing. Your conversation did little to ease his mind about your history with Harley so now all he could think of was the worst case scenario. The image of you getting whisked away on the back of Harley’s bike with your arms wrapped around his waist was playing in Peter’s mind no matter how hard he wanted to push it out. You were probably laughing at all his jokes and leaning into his side at some restaurant. To clear his head, Peter went for a walk to clear his head. When he came back, he heard the sound of a guitar coming from your bedroom. His curiosity got the better of him and he went to your room to see what was happening. When he pushed your door open, he saw you and Harley sitting on your bed while the played the guitar for you.

“Oh. Sorry. Sorry to myself that I had to hear that. Wait, what? Sorry, what did you guys say?” Peter played dumb and looked between the two of you.

“We didn’t say anything.” You laughed and knew exactly what he was doing.

“I was just playing Y/n the song I wrote for her.” Harley told him.

“You wrote her a song? Well isn’t that just peaches and cream?” Peter smiled tightly.

“Yeah. Would you like it hear it?” Harley smiled innocently and strummed a few chords.

“It’s really good.” You said. “It’s about our friendship and always being there for each other despite living in different places.”

“Sounds really magical and effervescent. Didn’t realize your cycles synced up.” Peter said quickly but you still caught what he said.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“I said I would love to hear it so bad.” Peter lied. Harley started to play the beginning of the song but slowly stopped playing and cleared his throat.

“What’s wrong, Keen?” You asked, making Peter roll his eyes.

“I’m feeling shy all the sudden.” He laughed shyly.

“Really? Because of me?” Peter asked. “I thought you’d be used to singing to men. Because that’s who I assume is your target audience giving all the pins on your guitar strap.”

“No. Because of you, actually.” He admitted to you. “I haven’t played you the second chorus yet. And it’s pretty vulnerable.”

“Well, let me hear it.”

“Yeah. Let’s hear it. Let’s all hear it.” Peter said to remind you both that he was there. Harley smiled timidly at you before starting to play the song again.

“Though we’re miles apart, you’re still in my heart. Fought with paper swords when we were kids. I wish we still did.“ He sang in a smooth voice that even Peter had to admit was good. You looked utterly in love and rested your chin on your knee as you listened to him sing to you.

“The ribbons in your hair, playing truth or dare. We grew up too soon. Cause now I miss you.” Harley continued singing and you covered your face with your hands to hide your smile. Peter couldn’t take it anymore and felt himself losing the urge to interject.

“Do you guys ever think about how mozzarella sticks-“

“Peter! Shh.” You hushed Peter and quickly returned your attention to Harley.

“Now I live in a different city. I saw online that you’re still pretty. I text and ask how you’ve been. You send back Checkers but never win. I wish things didn’t have to change. Like when you went to a school far away. You came home but we were never as we were. I love you now but I sometimes miss her.” Harley slowly stopped strumming the strings and looked at you with a shy smile. You gasped and clapped your hands for him while he blushed a deep red.

“Sorry. I know it’s cheesy.” He said. “It’s about missing how close we were when we were kids. I know we still talk but it’s not the same. We catch up every now and then but I miss when I knew about every thing about your day.”

“That’s really sweet, Keen. We should talk more. Because I miss our friendship too.” You said and squeezed his shoulder. Harley smiled and toyed with his guitar.

“Peter, what did you think of…” You trailed off when you realized Peter wasn’t there anymore. You immediately felt guilty because you weren’t sure when he left.

“Damn it.” You hissed. “I gotta go talk to him.”

“No. Let me.” Harley said and put his guitar down. He walked down the hallway until he found Peter’s room and knocked on the doorway.

“Hey.” Harley greeted. Peter looked up at him and rolled his eyes.

“If you’re here to sing to me-“

“I’m not. I want to talk to you.” Harley cut him off and went and sat on his bed. They sat in awkward silence for a moment as neither knew where to begin.

“You know, if you and I keep this rivalry up, we’re only going to hurt her.” Harley said after a minute.

“I know that.” Peter said quietly.

“Look, Peter, you seem like a nice guy. I can tell why she likes you. And she obviously really enjoys your friendship. But that’s all that’s ever gonna happen between you two. A friendship. Because I’ve been playing the long game.” Harley said earnestly. He wasn’t trying to be mean or hurt Peter, just being candid.

“So have I.” Peter told him.

“And how’s that going for you?” Harley asked with genuine curiosity.

“I’ll have you know I accidentally brushed against her boob once and she didn’t even bat an eye, so.” Peter shrugged like what he said mattered.

“Yeah?” Harley laughed. “We’ve kissed.”

Peters world came crashing down in that moment. He felt a hot rod of jealousy pierce his heart and cut him straight down the middle upon learning this.

“What?” He asked with a dry mouth.

“I was her first kiss. She didn’t tell you?”

“No. She never mentioned that.”

“Peter, I didn’t come in here to hurt you.” Harley began. “I just wanted to let you know what my intentions are. I came back to New York for her. I think it’s finally time she and I give it a go. And I think she feels it too. But I hope that you and I can put this aside and become friends. Because I genuinely think we’d get along.”

“If you and her start dating, there is no way we’re gonna be friends.” Peter said without making eye contact.

“Why not?” Harley asked, sounding a little hurt.

“Because I’m gonna kill myself.” Peter snapped, making Harley laugh in surprise. Peter couldn’t help but laugh too when he heard how ridiculous he sounded.

“I hope you don’t. Because she’d miss you. And I would too.” Harley told him. The boys looked at each other for a moment and ending up smiling. Peter felt his animosity towards Harley dissipate and realized they were just two boys who liked the same girl. And on top of that, Peter couldn’t blame him for liking you. How could he not?

“Please don’t.” Peter blurted.

“Don’t what?” Harley wondered.

“Don’t go for her. You’re so handsome. Like, in your face, Greys Anatomy doctor level handsome. You have the bike and the guitar and the floppy hair. You could go out and get any girl. I will even help you find one. But please, don’t go for her. Because I can’t compete with you. I can’t write her a song like that. I tried to write her a poem once but I was too scared to give it to her.” Peter said as he pulled out his notebook to show Harley his poem. Harley read over the poem a few times as his eyebrows knit together.

“You rhymed “go the movies” with “the shape of your boobies”. Two separate times but they’re completely different trains of thought. I’m not even sure how you did that. This stanza just says “perchance.” You can’t just say “perchance”. And this line is just a lyric from Pound the Alarm.”

“Do you see why I need you to back off?” Peter sighed and took the notebook back.

“You don’t think I feel the same way? I can’t compete with you either. You get her in a weird way that I never could. I see the way she laughs at your jokes. And relaxes around you. She and I have shared history but sometimes I wonder if we’re just rehashing the good memories and never making any new ones. If she and I met today, I don’t know if she’d like me. But you two formed an organic friendship. There’s no wondering whether or not she likes you or just likes the nostalgia. And I know she adores you. She tells me about you all the time. I know every story of every person you’ve ever saved. But she loves the regular side of you too. She once told me about this time you got your finger stuck in a park bench and she was laughing so hard during it that I didn’t even hear half the story. Her real laugh, too. The one where her head falls back and she kinda wheezes. I haven’t been able to make her laugh like that since we were kids.”

“Okay unfortunately you’re right and I actually do want to be friends with you.” Peter said after hearing Harley be vulnerable with him. Harley chuckled and Peter found himself laughing too.

“Let’s just promise that whoever she chooses, the other backs off and lets her be happy. She deserves that.” Harley said and Peter nodded in agreement.

“If it’s you, you better treat her right.” Peter told him.

“Or what? You’ll shoot me with your fart gun?” Harley joked.

“Yeah. Exactly.” Peter laughed.

“I’ll take care of her. You would too. I know that.” Harley said once their laughter died down.

“I’m glad you know. But I’m not worried. She knows where home is. Sooner or later, she’ll stop eating shrimps with the wimps and come eat lobster with the monster.” Peter shrugged and gestured to himself.

“I don’t even understand what that-“

“Me either.” Peter cut him off.

After their talk, Harley went back to your room and found you playing with his guitar. You looked up at him when he walked in and smiled.

“Hey.” He said and sat back down beside you.

“Hey. I think I still remember how to play Hey There Delilah on the guitar.” You told him and gave a bad attempt at playing the chords.

“Do you?” Harley asked skeptically and you laughed.

“I guess not. How’s Peter?” You asked and set the guitar down.

“He’s fine. I don’t think he liked my song, through.” Harley joked.

“It’s okay. I liked it.” You replied and gave him a fold smile. Harley smiled back and took your hand in his. You gulped at the contact because you felt something was coming.

“I really do miss you.” He told you.

“Miss you too, Keen. You should visit more.”

“I know. But you need to give me a really good excuse to come up here because I’m not a fan of the flight.”

“What kind of excuse?” You smiled nervously. To answer your question, Harley slipped a hand behind your head and started to pull you into a kiss. Before your lips could touch, you turned away and hung your head so that you didn’t have to see his face.

“I can’t.” You said quietly. Harley withdrew his hand and put them on his lap.

“Because of him?” He asked and you nodded your head. Harley laughed shortly and nodded as well.

“I get it. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. But I have to admit, I always thought you and I would just go for it one day.”

“So did I.” You admitted.

“So why can’t we just…” He trailed off and gestured between the two of you. You finally looked into his eyes and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Because I’d always wonder about him.” You answered. Harley smiled sadly but nodded in understanding.

“Can we still be friends?” He asked you.

“Are you kidding? Of course we can. This doesn’t haven’t to change anything.”

“Good. Because I don’t have anyone else to play IMessage games with.”

“I’m sending Checkers right now. And winning.” You said as you pulled out your phone.

“We’ll see.” He laughed.

Peter slept at home that night in fear of hearing the sounds of you and Harley consummating your new relationship. He put his earbuds in and listened to his sad boy tunes and cried until he fell asleep. He got up the next day with puffy eyes and got dressed to prepare himself in case you wanted to see him. Just as he was getting up to leave him bedroom, you appeared in his doorway. He jumped a little and sat back down on his bed.

“Hey. I thought I’d see you last night.” You said and folded your arms.

“Yeah, sorry. I needed to come home and clear my head.” He said without looking at you.

“Oh, okay. Is it anything you want to talk about?”

“Not particularly, no.” He replied. You have Peter a look up and down and let out an amused laugh.

“What?” He wondered.

“You’re wearing skinny jeans.” You pointed out with a cheeky smile.

“Psht. No.” He scoffed. “These are regular jeans.”

“Those are absolutely your skinny jeans from when we went as Kurt and Blaine for Halloween. And you didn’t gel your hair today. Oh my God. You’re trying to look like Harley.”

“I am not.” He lied but upon looking in the mirror, he realized he had definitely channeled Harley when getting dressed.

“You are. Which I don’t understand. I like your gelled hair and dorky t shirts. Why are you trying to be someone else?” You asked as you sat beside him on his bed.

“I don’t know.” He lied again because he couldn’t tell you that he was trying to look like the boy you liked.

“Harley said he talked to you yesterday after he played his song.” You said to change the subject.

“Yeah. We talked. He mentioned that you guys kissed.” Peter admitted without looking up at you.

“Yeah. We did.” You nodded. Peter clenched his eyes shut at you confirmed it and hung his head.

“I didn’t know that.” He said quietly.

“Because it was so awkward that I never tell anyone. We were like 11 or something and acting in a very poorly rehearsed summer camp rendition of Grease. I was Sandy and he was Danny. But my dad brought all his business man friends to come see me and I got so nervous I threw up during Hopelessly Devoted.”

“Oh.” Peter couldn’t help but smile now that he knew the kiss was nothing to worry about.

“Yeah. You feel stupid now, don’t you? You got all worked up over a peck between two 11 year olds.”You teased him and poked his aide.

“I may feel stupid but at least I wasn’t a theater kid.” He mumbled.

“Hey.” You said warningly and smacked his arm.

“Sorry.” He chuckled and rubbed his arm.

“So are we okay?” You asked him and turned to face him.

“I don’t know. Is your boyfriend gonna be okay with us staying friends?” Peter asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Well I don’t know either. Since I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Peter asked as hope grew in his chest.

“Peter, I don’t like Harley like that.” You insisted. “I told you that.”

“I thought you were capping.” He shrugged.

“I wasn’t.” You chuckled. “He’s not the one I like.”

“So you do like someone? Who is he? Is he bigger than me?” Peter asked with his jealously coming back with full force.

“Oh my God. You’re honestly so annoying.” You groaned and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Peter wasn’t expecting this so he froze for a moment before kissing you back. He’d been waiting a long time for this so he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close and full enjoy the moment. When you pulled away, you both laughed shyly and rested your foreheads together.

“Was that just as friends or…” Peter trailed off and looked at you for answers.

“Uh huh. Yeah. That was a friendship kiss.” You replied sarcastically before pulling him back in.

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

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@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[planetaryupscaled]

Summer Fun

Male Reader x Yeji x Yuna

Tags: 8k, cheating, oral, one-shot

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“On my way. Almost there,” I texted Yuna as I drove my car up into the Grand Josun.

“Cool. Out back by the pool,” she replied.

It was a hot Saturday in Busan. Yuna and I had been texting each other back and forth for several weeks when she texted me this morning, inviting me to a pool party at her friend’s place. While Yuna and I had run into each other in the past, this would be the first time the two of us will have ever really hung out, and what kinda guy would turn down an opportunity to hang out with bikini clad Yuna?

I knew I was close to the house by the number of cars lining along the sides of the street. I picked a place to park and walked the rest of the way to the house. I could hear the sound of music and voices of people from a few houses away. Once at the house, the door was open and I walked right in. There were a number of people I knew, or had seen at other parties, along with a number of famous celebs. If I had not been on a mission to meet Yuna, I might have been distracted by Lia as I passed her in the kitchen, looking like she had just come from the pool in a bikini. I did say a hello to a few people as I made my way outside. Once out by the pool, it did not take me long to spot Yuna, looking like a teenage boy’s wet dream as she laid on a lounge chair in a red bikini.

“Hey Yuna,” I said as I approach her. Unsure the best way to greet her, I simply sat down on the lounge chair next to her.

“Minho, you made it,” she said sounding happy I had arrived.

“If I knew you were going to be dressed like that, I would have come sooner,” I flirted.

“What? this? It’s just a bathing suit, no big deal,” she said modestly, and then added, “plus it’s never good to come too soon.”

“Touché,” I replied, happy to see her flirt back with a double entendre.

We spoke for a little while, it was hot day, so I took off my shirt and asked to borrow her sun screen. I was left in just my bathing suit and sneakers, still sitting upright as she continued to lounge. At one point I got up and got us some drinks and some waters, before returning to talk so more. Occasionally others would come by and sit with us, but for the most part the two of us were left alone.

“I was a little surprised when you first texted me. I had been trying to get Yeji to give me your number for a while.”

“Oh really? She never mentioned that when she was trying to palm you off on me.”

“She palmed me off?” I said surprised.

“Kind of,” Yuna said.

“If it means I get to hang with you, I guess it worked out for me. But why would she do that.”

“I mean, are you that surprised?” She asked.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, she does have a boyfriend, and after what happened the last time you two hung out together…” she trailed off.

“She told you about that?” I asked and Yuna nodded with big smile.

*Flashback

A group of friends had rented out a house in Busan. Since most people in the group were taking a significant other or had a regular fuck buddy in the group, and I was going as a single, I had been assigned the bedroom with two beds in it. My roommate for the long weekend was going to be Yeji, whose boyfriend was back in Itaewon. Yeji and I have had a number of mutual friends for several years, but it was not until she did her time filming MV for their next album that we started becoming friends, hanging out on set between scenes. I’d never left any ambiguity in my attraction toward her. I would flirt with her from time to time which she would often laugh off, and sometimes would even flirt back a bit, but she never asked me to stop. While it was clear she was not going to cross any line while she had a boyfriend, she also seemed to enjoy the attention I gave her. Which made my room assignment both a blessing and a curse. Staying in a room with the woman in the group I most lusted after, while also knowing that nothing was going to happen.

The first night there everything went fine and without any incidents. The next day the group of us went out on a boat for the day. As the day went on, we started drinking. While Yeji came onto the boat in jean shorts and a tied-off button-up shirt, as the day got hotter, she eventually stripped down to just her bikini. After that, I could not help but be flirty with her. She was even more receptive than usual and started flirting back with me. Even some of our friends noticed the way she seemed to be flirting back with me. Still, nothing happened between us, even as some of the couples began pairing off a bit and there was some on-and-off making out around the boat.

When we all got back to the house, everyone separated to wash off the lake water and get ready for dinner. The bathroom Yeji and I had in the house was a Jack and Jill bathroom, so we let our friends take the indoor bathroom and we volunteered to take the outdoor shower. After going inside to get some soap and towels, Yeji and I went outside. I told her she could go first, but then she suggested we share the shower since we were just rinsing off, and not going to strip down. I hesitated for a moment, mainly out of surprise of her suggestion, but I agreed. The outdoor shower didn’t have a door to it, but it did have 7ft wooden walls on three sides to help offer some privacy, but it also made it so we had to stand pretty closely together. We shared the soap and rotated being under the spray of water until Yeji was under the spray with her back to the shower head. She dipped her head back and let the water rain down on her face and hair. When she raised her head back up and opened her eyes back up, the two of us found ourselves locking eyes. It was unclear who made the first move, but suddenly, I had a firm grip on Yeji’s ass and her back was pressed up against the wall, as our lips were locked and she was sliding her tongue into my mouth.

We only made out for five minutes at most before we were snapped back to reality by the sound of friends coming out the back door to get the grill started. While it was only a few minutes, our kissing was so intense that at the moment we stop, Yeji had begun wrapping one of her long legs around mine, and I had a hand on the clasp of her bikini top. Once the realization of what happened set in, Yeji quickly got out of the shower, wrapped herself in a towel, and went inside. I stayed in the shower and tried to let my arousal cool down before toweling off and heading over to the grill, giving Yeji some time and space to change before I headed to our room.

Yeji kept her distance from me the rest of the night. Sitting on the other end of the table from me as we ate. Then sitting on the other side of the room from me as we all played Cards and watched a movie. As the night went on, people began going to their bedrooms two by two until it was just Yeji and I left in the living room. We eventually figured we might as well go to be as well. Our bedroom was the bedroom at the end of the hallway upstairs. After the events in the shower, things began feeling even more awkward between us as we walked down the hallway with the echoes of sex noises from each bedroom door we passed. Yeji went into the bathroom and changes into her sleepwear, some short cotton shorts and a gray t-shirt. I quickly changed into some gym shorts and a muscle shirt. We both then climbed into our respective beds. In the quiet of the bedroom, we could hear the sounds of our friends engaging in carnal pleasure from down the hall.

“Minho, about earlier,” Yeji spoke up. “The kiss…”

“Don’t worry. It never happened,” I reassured her.

“But it did though.”

“It did, and I was great, but as far as anyone else is concerned it never happened.”

“So, you’re not going to tell anyone?” she asked.

“No, I won’t. Unless you tell him, Jihoon will never find out what happened.”

“Okay,” she said with a deep exhale. We then lay there in silence for a while. “What do you mean when you said it was great?”

I looked over at the other bed, there was enough light coming in the room through the window that I could see Yeji’s face and eyes looking back at me. “I think you know what I meant,” a proud smile came across her face at that, “but if we’re going to act like it never happened, we should probably stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed before rolling over in her bed. I turned and tried to close my eyes and fall asleep, but I was not tired. Between the thoughts of the kiss in my head and the sounds of sex coming from the hallway, my brain was still wide awake. Some time passed, and the harder I tried to not listen to sexual moans and tried not to think of the idol in the bed 5 feet away from me, the more my brain focused on those exact things. I was at a point where had I been laying on my back instead of my side, there would have been a large tent in the sheet I was under. I thought about sneaking into the bathroom to rub one out, but I could hear stirring coming from the bed next to mine which led me to believe Yeji was still away. I was contemplating what to do when I heard it.

“Ummff.” a soft-sounding stifled moan. However, unlike the other moans I had been hearing through the door, this one came from the other side of the room I was in. All my thoughts froze when I heard that sound. And then a minute or so later, I heard another similar moan. One that sounded like it came from someone desperately trying to not make a sound. I knew it had to come from Yeji. She must have assumed that I was asleep because unlike her, I had remained still in bed while she had been tossing and turning. I slowly, trying to not make a sound, rolled over onto my back and turned my head. I then paused for a minute, before opening my eyes slightly, just squinting as I looked to the other bed. The sheets were up to her shoulders but her knees were bent up and spread apart and the way her shoulder moved, it was obvious she was touching herself. Her eyes were shut, and was biting her lip shut. Even still, another moan escaped through her tight lips.

Watching her touch herself, had my hand moving down to my crotch and giving my hard cock a good squeeze. After another minute of watching, I soon myself stroking myself under the sheet as I watch Yeji touch herself under her bedsheet. Like Yeji, I was trying to stifle any noise coming from me. However, a groan did eventually escape my mouth. As soon as it happened, Yeji opened her eyes and looked my way, and I too was looking at her. She froze and a look of total shock came on her face, but she didn’t say anything. I saw her eyes shift, and she looked at the tent in my bedsheet with some obvious moment where I was stroking myself. Her eyes then moved back up to mine, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, I could see her arm being to move again as she looked at me.

The two of us stayed in our beds, both openly masturbating under our sheets as we looked right at each other. The sheet had moved down her body a bit because of her arm movement. I could now see her erect nipples pressing against her t-shirt. Neither one of us was trying to muffle our moans anymore. Yeji now openly moaned with her mouth wide open as she touched herself. We went for several minutes until she let out one final moan and I saw her eyes roll back, her body then began to twitch as she came all over her hand. Watching her cum, pushed me over the edge and I let out a grunt and my cock began firing into the bed sheet. When I finished blowing my load, I looked back over just in time to see the Play Dead actress pull her hand out from under the sheet. Her hand glistened in the moonlight from the slick wetness that covered it. She rubbed her hand on the bedsheet to dry it off. She then looked back over at me and saw me looking back at her.

“Goodnight,” she said with a broad, but guilty-looking smile, before rolling over to the other side of her bed and going to sleep. It took me a little longer, but I too eventually fell asleep, but it would not be for long.

I was having a very vivid dream of having sex with Yeji in the outdoor shower. We could hear all of our friends on the other side of the wooden wall that Yeji had her back against, as I held her up and was thrusting into her. Her top was off, but her bikini bottoms were just pulled to the side for my cock to enter her. I was getting ready to explode when I suddenly woke up. I was disappointed when my eyes opened, having the dream end early. I then realized why I woke up as I suddenly felt the strong need to pee. I checked my phone before getting out of bed and saw it was only a little before 6AM, I’d only been asleep for a little over three and a half hours since my masturbation session with Yeji.

I got out of the bed and took a look over to Yeji’s bed. She looked to be asleep, with the sheet now down by her waist. It was for the best since my gym shorts, sans underwear, was not doing much to hide the wood I had from my dream as I walked across the room to go to the bathroom. It took some fighting to aim my hard-on down so I could pee, but I eventually got it, and then realized just how badly I really did need to go. It seemed like the flow would almost never end. Eventually, I did finish, flush, and watched my hands. I opened up the door to head back to bed when I got startled by a person in the doorway.

“Hi,” Yeji said as she stood in front of me.

“Hi?” I replied. “Do you…?” I asked gesturing to the bathroom behind me, but she shook her head. We both stood there frozen in time, looking into each other's eyes. Just like in the shower, in an instant, we went from looking at each other to having our arms wrapped around each other as we made out. Once again, we were locking lips, and our kisses were filled with desperation and lust. I picked her up and she quickly wrapped her legs around me. I walked her over to her bed and stopped there for a minute to continue making out for a little longer before finally pushing her back so she fell onto the bed. She now lay on her back with her legs dangling off the bed.

Looking up at me, she just said, “We can’t have sex.”

“Okay,” I told her. I bent down at the waist to lean in and kiss her. As we kissed my hands moved to her hips and took hold of the waistband of her shorts. I then began dropping to my knees on the floor, and as I went down, I took her shorts down with me. She didn’t say anything until her shorts were totally off.

“We just can’t have sex,” she reiterated, but she widen her legs as said that.

“I know,” I told her, before burying my face between her cunt. Normally I like to tease and do a little bit more foreplay before going in for the main course. This time though, I had no patients for it and judging by how wet she was and the sound she made when my tongue made contact, she was not interested in being teased either. I could feel the hairs of her brunette bush brush against my nose as I ate her out. She had obviously recently trimmed down for her bathing suit. As I moved to suck on her clit, Yeji reached up and grabbed a pillow, to muffle the moans. I quickly moved, putting a finger inside of her as I moved my mouth away so I could reach up and pull the pillow away from her face.

“I don’t anyone to hear,” Yeji pleaded.

“It’s 6AM and everyone else was up late drinking and fucking, we’re the only ones awake and I really want to hear every single sound you make as I lick your pussy.” Yeji didn’t put up much of a fight. Taking the pillow back, she put it under her head so she could watch me go back to eating her out. She did not hold back from letting me hear the pleasure noises she made and the only time her sounds got muffled again was when she tightly wrapped her legs behind my neck and I had her thighs pressing against my ears. I was licking her fold and rubbing her clit when Yeji climaxed. When he did, her legs tightened around my head, smoothing my face into her drenching wet pussy. I hungrily ate her out like. There was not much in the way of skill or technique, it was just pure passion. As a result, it only took about five minutes or so before Yeji grabbed a pillow to cover her mouth and muffle the loud moans as she came. I could feel her leg that was wrapped around the back of my head shake as her pussy quivered in orgasmic bliss.

“Oh gosh, wow. That was…wow,” Yeji said as she removed the pillow and caught her breath.

“Yeah, but we’re not done yet,” I told her.

“What?”

“That round was because we needed to grit it out of our system. This time it is because it feels so fucking good and we want it,” I told her. I then moved back between her legs and began licking up all of her juices that had leaked out of her while also avoiding her pussy lips and clit. I was purposely teasing and taking my time this round. I had Yeji move to the middle of the bed so I could lay down on it as well while I tongued her vulva. I started off kissing and licking up and down her thighs. Yeji put up no argument or fight to what I was doing. She just laid back and enjoyed the feeling. I took my time with her, and when I finally did move to her pussy, she all but melted for me, letting out a long moan, she relaxed to the point that her body was basically mine to do what I want with.

Yeji was bottomless, but she still had her t-shirt on. As I started licking her, my eyes looked up her body. I could see her hard nipples tenting her t-shirt, and I decided that it was time for that to go. I moved my right hand up her stomach and slid it under her shirt. My hand placed her breast and gave it a squeeze. I heard the idol suck in her breath as I have her a squeeze, followed by a soft moan. I played with her tit for another seconds before I tried pushing her shirt up to expose her breasts. She got a little frustrated with my fumbling hand and finally yanked her shirt off and threw it to the floor. I now had her naked on the bed, with my head between her legs and my hand on her tit. I tried to focus on her mound, but my eyes could not stop looking at her soft looking perky breasts. Eventually, my hand and mouth switched places. I now fingered her as I sucked on her nipple. I alternated from her right to left breast for several minutes, occasionally breaking things up by kissing her mouth.

I toyed with her a bit, working her near the brink of orgasm before pulling back a bit. I worked her for nearly 30 minutes before Yeji finally could not take it anymore. This time when she reached the bring, her hand reached down and held my hand in place and she humped my fingers as her other hand grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss. When she came her orgasmic cries were muffled by my mouth as we made out. We kissed throughout her orgasm, and as she died down, I moved my lips off hers and began kissing her neck before moving back down until I was enjoying her hard nipples once again. We laid in bed for a little while before she spoke up again.

“I guess, it’s my turn now to return the favor” she said.

“Only if you want to,” I told her. I wanted her to do it, desperately, but I didn’t want to pressure her.

“I want to,” she confirmed. I then felt her hand pet my crotch. “I really want to.”

I then sat up and Yeji got up off of the bed. Just like my first round of oral on her, Yeji got down on her knees on the floor next to the bed. I took off my shirt and moved to the edge of the bed. I thought about removing my shorts, but decided I rather watch her remove them. Once I was sitting on the edge of the bed, Yeji’s eyes moved from looking into mine, down to the obvious tenting in my shorts. Her tongue lightly grazed her lips before she gave a lip bite and reached out for the waist band of my shorts. She slowly pulled them down. More and more of my balls and shaft became exposed, and once she got the, bellow my tip my erection sprang up and slap her chin.

“Oh my god, Minho? Are you joking?” She said in shock, while removing my shorts the rest of the way down my legs.

“What?” I asked with a big smile on my face.

“Your cock, it’s…wow,” she said, as she reached out and took hold of it.

“I take it you like it?” I asked as she moved it around to see it from different angle.

“What am I even supposed to do with all of it?” She asked as moved her hands around his shaft. As she spoke, she could not hide the big excited smile from her face.

“I think you have a pretty good idea of what to do with it.”

“Maybe,” she said playfully before puckering her lips and giving the tip a kiss. “How have you been able to keep this hidden?” She asked as she added a second hand to the shaft, and began to lightly stroke it.

“This weekend it’s taken a good amount of self-discipline, breathing exercises, and some strategic holding of towels and other items, to keep it hidden. I am surprised you didn’t feel it when we kissed, it was pressing up you a good amount.”

“I think I was so in my head that we were kissing I must have missed the feeling, but wow,” she said with her eyes trained on my dick. Her eyes looked up at me as her face inched towards my cock. She opened he mouth and stuck out her tongue. Just before her tongue touched my cock, she gave me a wink. She then gave along show lick to the tip before closing her mouth around it and giving it a suck. For the first two minutes she just held the base in her hands while she sucked on and swirled her tongue around the tip. Since getting to know her, I had dreamed this moment multiple times, but the dreams didn’t compare to the reality of actually having her look up at me while she had her lips tightly wrapped around my cock head.

Yeji then started taking more and more of my manhood into her mouth. Her lips stretched out a bit around my girth. She went down until she gagged a bit and pulled off my cock a bit. Though she was undeterred. She tried going down further a few more times, but each time she got to the same spot she would start to gag. Yeji then pulled off my cock and gasped.

“I can usually take Jihoon’s whole cock in my mouth,” she said.

“I guess I’m just a little bit bigger than him,” I said with a smirk.

“Oh yes,” she replied. “Thicker too,” she added.

“Don’t worry about trying to deep throat, what you were doing felt really good,”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Hearing that what she was doing felt good seemed to give Yeji a spike of confidence as she shorted giving a more energetic blow job with zero hesitancy at all. She began moving her hand up and down my shaft while she alternated between boring her head along the top half of my shaft, and using her tongue to lick, flick and swirl around the top of my dick. While she never moved her mouth down to them, she did spend a little time playing with my balls in one of her hands.

“I’m getting close,” I warned her. She just moaned around my cock in her mouth and kept on blowing me. After another minute, I gave another warning, “Seriously, I’m gonna cum. Where should I?”

“Where do you want to?” Yeji asked.

In that half second, I thought about picking her up on, putting her on the bed, thrust my dick in her and give her just an epic creampie. However, I knew that wasn’t an option. “I want to cover your beautiful face.”

“I should have guessed,” she said, and then went back to sucking the tip as her hand worked the shaft, really pumping it hard. It was not look after that, that the urge to blow my load became overwhelming. I couldn’t barely speak, but Yeji understood what was about to happen. She pulled her mouth off my cock and salt back a bit. She aimed the tip at her face and closed her eyes just in time as the first blast hit her just above the eye brow. As I continued to cum, she began smiling and laughing a bit as her face continued to be glazed.

“Is it normally that much?” Yeji asked when I finally finished cumming.

“Not really, you just really got me going,” I told her,

“I guess so,” she said as she wiped some cum away from near her eye. She then sucked her finger clean. “I should get cleaned up,” she said before quickly getting up and walking quickly to the bathroom. My eyes followed her ass as she walked. She never shut the door behind her, and from where I sat on the bed, I could clearly see her in the bathroom. As she bent over at the sink to wash her face, I let out a groan. She looked so good, being bent over like that. My dick had deflated a bit after cumming, then I was back to full strength now as I looked over her body. I was on autopilot as I watched her and a minute later, I found myself standing in the doorway to the bathroom, looking at her. When she finished washing her face she turned to leave and saw me standing in the doorway, and yet she still approached.

She stopped herself when she was less than a foot away from her. She was close enough that my hard cock was practically touching her. She looked up at me, and I down at her.

“We can’t have sex,” she repeated, but she did so meekly. Whatever willpower she had was clearly wavering. Had I kissed her right then, I had zero doubt in my mind we would have been having wild passionate sex within minutes. But I didn’t.

“You sure?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Okay,” I told her. While I may have been able to get with her, I knew if we did, she’d hate herself for doing it and she would have had some resentment for me. So, I decided to back down and hope that she breaks things off with her boyfriend in the near future and we could have all the guilt-free sex our bodies can handle as soon as that happens. I moved past her into the bathroom, both of us letting out a grown as our bodies accidentally brush up against one another, and then I shut the door behind me.

I took a shower and jerked off to release some of the tension. I then came up with an excuse to leave after breakfast and head back home. The temptation and desire would have been too strong had I stayed.

It was almost two weeks after that before I heard from Yeji again. And it was only via text. We texted sparingly a few times over the course of a few weeks. Then one day she texted me to let me know that she had been talking to Yuna about me, and she was going to try to set us up.

*End of flashback

“How detailed did she get,” I asked.

“She was pretty vivid with her details,” Yuna replied.

“Really? I didn’t think she’d ever talk about it.”

“Oh she talked for quite a while about it,” Yuna said. The tone of her voice was both playful and flirty. With my mind thinking about the activities of that night, and knowing Yuna knew all the details and then agreed to meet me was getting me aroused. I adjusted myself in my swim shorts, making she see my dick went down the leg of my shorts rather than have me pitch a tent in them. As I sat back down, and looked at Yuna and even through her sunglasses I could see her eyes look down at my crotch. I then moved a little to make sure I was sitting so I was sitting directly facing Yuna.

We continued to talk for a while, with the Yeji topic being dropped and we got to know each other a little more. Yuna continued to be a little flirty, and she looked so sexy in her bikini that my heart rate was elevated. I then decided to pull a Hail Mary that I had tried four or five times with success. As we sat there sitting and talking, I slowly began working the pant leg of my swimsuit up higher and higher on my thigh. I did it slowly over about 10 minutes or so, as we continued to chat.

“So, what are your plans after this,” she asked.

“I don’t know, I have not really thought that far,” I suddenly saw her jaw drop as I talked, “I didn’t really…”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” she interrupted. “But umm..”

“What?”

“Ah, I don’t know how else to say this, but I can see your dick,” she said. I knew she could. I was sitting facing right at her, and I have rolled up the leg of my shorts just enough that she could clearly see my cock head is she looked down between my legs, meanwhile it was covered up from anyone who did not have a direct line-of-sight up my shorts.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” I said acting like it was an accident.

“It’s fine, it happens,” she said.

“Guy’s cocks poking out of the bottom of their shorts is something that happens regularly to you?”

“Well, no. Not really,” Yuna laughed.

“That better?” I asked as I rolled my short legs back down.

“I don’t know, I didn’t mind the view before.”

“I can put it back out if you’d like, I don’t mind,” I told her.

“Tempting, but probably safer for you not to be hanging out like that,” she replied.

“Safer for who?” I asked. Yuna blushed and took a sip of her drink. We were silent for a minute or so, and then Yuna spoke up.

“One more question, about what I just saw.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Were you fully hard.”

“Honestly?” I asked, and Yuna nodded, “Like steel.”

“Why?”

“Are you joking? Look at you,” I told her. “God, I have to control myself when I just see you smile, and now here you are in that bikini. I’m not made of stone,” I explained.

“Plus, I brought up that night with Yeji,” she added.

“Yes, that didn’t help settle me down much.”

“I’m going to take a quick dip in the pool to cool off and then get a refill,” she said showing off her empty glass. “Care to join me?”

“I’d love to, but maybe I should stay here for a minute and get things a little under control before getting up. I’ll catch up in a minute,”

“Smart,” Yuna said as she got up and touched my shoulder as she walked past me. I did not even try to hide as I turned my head and looked at her ass after she walked by. Yuna looked back over her shoulder and caught me looking. She then gave a little booty wiggle in my direction before disappearing out of view. Seeing her smiling over her shoulder as she gave that shake probably added an extra two minutes to my cool down period before I could standup without the pronounced outline of an erection in my shorts.

I sat in the chair for a few minutes, trying hard not to think about Yuna or Yeji so that the swelling in my shorts would go down. When I felt confident about enough about standing up, I did so and then make my way to the pool to find Yuna. When I exposed myself, I didn’t expect that she’d become so overcome by lust she’d jump on me right on the lounge chair. It was more just about getting the idea in her head. The most important thing was that she did not freak out or get offended, instead she continued to flirt with me before she left. And she even looked back at me when she left. So at minimum she was fine with it, and there was a chance she was more than fine with what she saw.

I walked around the pool for a little bit, then headed inside to use the bathroom before resuming my search for Yuna. Eventually I found her in the kitchen talking with a few people. She was still only dressed in her bikini and sunglasses. As soon as she saw me, she excused herself from their conversation and walked to me.

“You’re looking a little more relaxed,” she said with her eyes darting down to my crotch before looking back up at me.

“Yeah, well, who knows how long that will last now that I am back talking with you,” I flirted.

“Maybe we should get you somewhere a little less crowded so you don’t embarrass yourself,” she flirted back.

“Good idea. Any suggestions?” I asked.

“Well…” she said as she thought. “Have you ever been here before?”

“No,” I admitted. “Honestly, I’m not even sure whose house this is.”

“Oh, well, then do you want to check out the rest of it, snoop around a bit?”

“Sure, sounds fun.”

It was a really nice house, and a good size mini mansion as well. I probably would have enjoyed exploring the house if I didn’t have other thoughts clouding my brain. She led the way and we quickly found ourselves going up stairs. As soon as we got up there, I grabbed her arm to pull her to me and I moved my hand behind her head as I went in for a kiss. Even though I moved suddenly, there was zero hesitation from Yuna as she immediately kissed me back and wrapped her arms around me. We started making out passionately in the hallway, before eventually we started to move again. We continued to make out as we fumbled around trying to find a room to get into for some privacy. The first door we got to was a closet. The next door was locked. The third door Yuna had her back to and nearly fell backward as I opened the door. We were both thankful that the room appeared to be a guest bedroom. I kicked the door shut behind me and then turned to flip the lock on the door knob. Once locked I turned back to Yuna and lifted her up in my arms. We resumed kissing until I had walked us close enough to the bed that I could toss her on it. She quickly moved to the center of the bed, and I pounced on top of her. Our lips locked once again. Now on top of her, I had no doubt she could feel how hard I am as it was pressing firmly against her.

After a few more minutes, I could not take it anymore. While I was loving being there, making out with a woman I had lusted over for years from afar, I was now too horny. I pulled away from Yuna’s lips and looked down at her. I could see the same overwhelming lust in her eyes that I was feeling. I could sense she wanted the same thing I want.

“Yeah?” Was all I asked.

“Yeah,” she answered confidently. After that I didn’t even bother stripping off my clothes or taking the time to take hers off. I was eager, I simply slid up the leg of my swim trucks to my crotch to uncover my dick and ball, and then I simply hooked her bikini bottom and pulled them to the side. As I exposed her shaved pussy, my finger could feel how wet she was and also the heat emanating from between her legs.

I lined myself up, and even just feeling her soft wet lips against the tip of my cock was enough to get me to let out a slight moan. I looked her in the eye and she gave me a head nod. With that I quickly thrusted the first two third of my cock into her. Yuna let out a grunt as she felt me suddenly enter her. I pulled out some, before thrusting forward again and pushing my full cock into her. I then paused. I wanted to take stock of where I was at that moment. I wanted to save the memory of her face looking up at me, and the feeling of her warm, wet pussy tightly squeezing my manhood.

I wish I could say I rocked her world after that. That I showed of my stamina, and some moves that I had learned over the years. Instead, three minutes after entering her, I found myself announcing. “Jesus, I’m gonna cum!”

“Me too,” she said which shocked me. I kept thrusting until I could not hold back any longer. At the last possible second, I pulled out and my dick erupted all over her toned stomach. I grunted as came all over her, and Yuna let out a long loud moan as she came as well. When I finished summing, I leaned down and kissed her, and as I moved my body off of hers, I began moving my lips from hers to along her neck and collarbone. Eventually the two of were laying side by side. Yuna was the first of us to speak.

“I’m not usually that fast,” she confessed.

“Me neither,” I told her. “I just… I’ve been fantasizing about doing that with you for so long, and you’re so beautiful. I just kind of loss control.”

“That’s sweet,” she said with a laugh. ‘That’s not what I meant thought. Although, yes, that was a pretty fast climax for me as well.” She then turned onto her side and looked at me. “I meant I don’t usually hop into bed with person I just met.”

“Oh, okay. Me neither.” I told her. “Though it’s not for lack of trying.” Yuna laughed at my joke. When she finished laughing, she looked down at her stomach which was coated in cum. She grabbed a blanket that was on the bed and began cleaning herself off.

“I’m surprised you didn’t finish inside of me.”

“Me too. God knows I wanted to.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because I didn’t know if you wanted me to, and I didn’t want you storming off all mad. And also, because I didn’t want to cum in you yet.”

“Why’s that?” She asked as she tossed the cum stained blanket to the floor.

“Because then I wouldn’t have been able to do this,” I said a quickly got on top of her again, and then moved down her body. Her bikini bottoms were still pulled to the side, but I lifted her legs up and pulled her bottoms off. Once she was bottomless, I put her legs over my shoulders and pushed my face down between her legs. Once again, I skipped my usual teasing, and got right to the point. I might have wanted to taste her more than she even wanted me to go down on her, so I immediately tasted and attacked her pussy with my lips and tongue. Yuna gripped the sheets as I ate her out like I’d been on a hunger fast for the last week.

“Oh wow, Yeji was right,” Yuna moaned.

“Right about what?” I asked between licks.

“That you’re good with her tongue.”

“She said that?”

“She said a lot of things. But mostly it was about how she didn’t know just how good receiving oral could be until you did it to her.” Hearing that was a major confidence boost, but also made me think about how the second she and Jihoon break up, I am going to wreck that girl. Just take multiple days off of work, and do things to her that would make her forget about every guy she’d ever dated. But until then, I had Yuna to please.

“Well, I guess I have a lot to live up to then,” I said as I moved two fingers inside of the idol and began rubbing and feeling for that G-spot. While Yeji had tried to hide her pleasurable moans at first, Yuna never did. It didn’t matter that we were in a house full of guests, that for all we knew could have all been right outside listening in, she moaned and acted as though we were in an empty home. And with each sound from her lips and movement from her body, it only encouraged me to do more, which made her react even more.

I had my tongue on her clit as I fingered her when she came. When I heard her orgasmic moans, I pulled my face away to watch her reaction to climaxing. Seeing Yuna’s O-face was one of the most erotic face I’d ever seen in my life. When she recovered and opened her eyes to see me looking down at her, she sprung upright and wrapped an arm behind my head to pull me in for a kiss. My face was still sloppy wet with her pussy juices. The two of us made out, me on my knees and her sitting up. As we kissed, my hand traveled to her handful sized arrest and I could feel her hard nipple pressing through the fabric of her top. I kept feeling up Yuna as we kissed until she suddenly pulled away. She didn’t say anything, but she had a big happy smile on her face as she reached behind her back and untied her bikini and ripped her top off completely. She now laid on the bed fully nude.

“Gezz Yuna, it there any part of you that isn’t immaculate?” I asked as I studied her small breasts that were incredibly perky.

“Speaking of immaculate,” Yuna said as she reached down and took hold of my cock. “Feels like someone is ready to go again.”

“Oh, I’ve ready to go since the last round ended, I just wanted to make sure I got a chance to taste your pussy before we got too far along.”

“Well, I hope it was worth it,” she said as she stroked me.

“It was better than I dreamed it would be.”

“You’re such a sweet talker,” she said and then pulled me down to her for a kiss. After breaking the kiss, she told me, “Now roll over, I want to ride this beast.”

I pushed off my shorts and laid on my back, and Yuna quickly pounced on top of me. My hard cock desperate for attention as she straddled me with her pussy just barely hovering over me. She looked down at me, and move her dangling hair back behind her. She bit her lip for a second as we just looked at each other, then she suddenly dropped down and let out a grunting moan as her pussy was once again stretched out by my hard cock.

“Don’t move,” she told me, as she bent down to kiss me. She did not move her hips at all as we made out for the first few minutes. Instead, she just soaked while we kissed. She felt to warm, wet and tight while wrapped around my cock, and the feeling only got better as she began to move her hips. Her lips were still attached to mine while she rolled her hips along my shaft. She let out a moan as my hands went to her breasts and began playing with her sensitive hard nipples. Eventually I just pulled her forward so that I could suck on her tantalizing nipples.

She moved slowly for a while, really drawing things out as she rode me, but as time passed, she began moving faster. And as her orgasm started to build, Yuna began moving her body faster and faster. Eventually, sitting up straight and putting her hands down on my chest for leverage. Her eyes locked in on mine for the next several minutes until she was on the brink of climax. When it finally hit her eyes went wide and as did her mouth. Yuna stopped moving and let out a long loud moan as she came once again. She closed her eyes and her hands move up her breast and she squeezed her nipples a bit as orgasmed. As the sensation started to die down, she slumped down and kissed me once again. Even when she stopped kissing me, she remained on top of me, with her hands brushing against her hard nipples.

“Can we switch to doggy,” I asked between kisses.

“You tired of kissing me?” She said, pulling away sounding disappointed.

“What? No,” I replied defensively. “I’ve just spent a lot of time today admiring your ass that…”

“I’m messing with you,” she said playfully with a smile. “You’re not the first guy who's wanted to check out my ass as we have sex.”

Yuna then got off him, and got onto her hands and knees. Moving behind her, I was greeted to the immaculate site of her nude ass on full display for me, and depending on the angle I looked I could all see her wet pussy peeking out underneath, begging to be penetrated once again. I reached out and gave both her cheeks a few nice had squeezes before moving my hands to her hips. Once again, I have an initial hard deep thrust, during my cock inside of her which she seemed to love.

I knew I was not going to last too much longer as soon as we started doggy, but I Madde the most of the experience. Admiring her great ass, and taking in the site of how her ass shook with each time I thrust into her. I made sure to also reach under her and I alternate between playing with her nipple and her clit while railing her from behind. Yuna also did not help me stay under control as she moved her body as well. Rolling her hips so her whole body seemed to move in a wave with her ass pushing back to me each time to meet my cock as I pushed forward. I could only hold out for so long before I could not hold back any longer.

“If you wanted me to finish inside you before, you’re about to get your wish,” I told her.

“Umm, yes do it,” she moaned, but then suddenly she changed her mind and yell, “Wait! No! Don’t!” Yuna then quickly spun around and faced me. Or more to the point, faced my cock. “Do it on my face,” she told me.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I love it,” she replied. Hearing that Yuna loved receiving facials was mind-blowing, and I was all too willing to acquiesce to her request. I gave my shaft a few strokes, and that it was all it took before I began firing ropes of jizz all over the most beautiful face I’d ever seen. Yuna looked to be very happy when I finished with streaks of cum all across her face. She then asked, “How do I look?”

“Sexy as fuck,” I replied honestly. “Though, what caused the change of heart on where you wanted me to cum?”

“I remembered Yeji said you went down on her for over a half an hour when you two got together, and I wanted to see if I could get you to double that for me.”

“Oh, I’d be more than will,” I told her. “But we should probably go to your place or mine if we’re going to do that.”

“Good call,” she said and then gave me a kiss on the cheek. Some of my own cum pressed on my face when she did so. She then got up and made her way to the bathroom attached to the bedroom, but as she did so, she passed a mirror. She momentarily stopped in front of the mirror and looked at her cum covered face. She gave a quick kissy face pose to the mirror followed by another silly tongue out pose, before continuing on to the bathroom to get clean up.

When she came out of the bedroom I was fully dressed and just sat back and admired her naked body as she walked around the room collecting her bathing suit before putting it back on.

“Ready to go?” She asked.

“I’m ready to follow that beautiful ass wherever you want to go.”

She then reached out and took my hand and we waked towards the bedroom door together. Just before opening the door, she said, “Then come on, let’s go to my place and do some stuff that will cause Yeji to finger herself raw after I tell her about it.”

[agaypanic]

Hii I’d like to request Regina having a crush on reader but reader has a hard time liking her back cause of what was written about reader in the burn book (with a fluff ending??) thank you!

Who Wrote This? (Regina George X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Even though all that had happened junior year was forgiven, what was written about you in that wretched burn book still tugged at you mind. It makes it hard for you to warm up to Regina, who just wants to be with you.

A/N: regina wrote mean ass shit in the burn book so a warning for that ig

***

“Regina, if you keep staring at her, she might think you’re crazy.” The lacrosse team giggled as they watched Regina watch you. She was packing her bag after practice when she caught sight of you coming out of the school library.

“Oh, shut up.” She said, not bothering to take her eyes off of you. 

This wasn’t the first time Regina’s friends had caught her looking at you. Ever since sophomore year, after being sat next to you in one of her classes, it was like she couldn’t get you out of her head. No matter how many boyfriends, or more like boy toys, she had, or how many people she slept with. When it was all over, she still thought about you, who was nothing but kind and sweet to her despite her reputation of being an evil Plastic.

“When are you gonna go talk to her?” Dina, one of Regina’s teammates, nudged her arm. “You’re clearly, like, in love with her.”

“I can’t.” She answered, now somber. “I’m pretty sure she completely hates me.”

That wasn’t entirely true, but Regina didn’t know that. From how you acted now, like she repulsed you, it seemed like you despised her. And she knew it was all her fault.

Everyone except for you had gotten over what was written about them in the burn book. The moment you read what had been written about you, what people seemed to think of you, you realized that Regina George was a two-faced mega bitch and would never change. It didn’t matter how nice you were, or how many notes or pens you had let her borrow, or how genuine she seemed around you. She would always think she was above everyone, and the people below were as meaningless and bothersome as gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

You knew she was different now, like she had really grown. But you didn’t buy it for a second. So you kept your distance, speeding off or changing seats whenever Regina tried getting close to you. Yet there was a small part of you that was hopeful about the fact that she was better now, that she wasn’t so mean.

After zipping up your bag, you looked up and locked eyes with Regina on the soccer field. Even though she was far away, she could see you clench your jaw before storming off to your car.

She couldn’t do this anymore. No matter how much you tried to avoid her, she needed to talk to you.

***

You loved spending your free period in the library. You were able to catch up on homework or studying without getting distracted. Plus, Regina never came in here.

You heard the door open but didn’t look up from your notebook, where you copied notes from your textbook. Footsteps came near you, but you figured they were going to a seat past you.

But then someone sat down in the chair next to you. You looked up in the confusion, but that soon turned into an expression of annoyance.

“Please,” Regina whispered, grabbing your wrist before you could try to back your things and leave. You glared at her, and she had to force herself not to wince at your harshness. “Please, Y/n, I just wanna talk.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Just hear me out.” Regina pleaded, trying to stay quiet. She scooted her chair closer to you, and was surprised that you didn’t lean back or scoot away. “Hear me out, and then when I’m done, I’ll leave you alone forever. I promise.” 

It pained her to promise you that, but she figured it was the only way you’d listen to her.

You stared at her momentarily before you sighed and relaxed slightly in your seat.

“Fine.” You said. “But make it quick.”

Regina nodded, trying to get her thoughts together. To be honest, she didn’t really think she’d make it this far.

“I’m sorry.” She started. “Really, really sorry. What I wrote about you in that book, I didn’t mean it, and I regret writing it every day. You were one of the only people in this school that I genuinely liked, and I ruined what little we had because I wrote something stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid.” You interjected, bitterness in your tone. “It was mean, Regina.” You turned your seat to face her better. She was glad that you were finally looking at her without running away, but hated the look of disdain and hurt on your face. “I think about what you wrote about me every day. It’s practically burned into my brain at this point. ‘Y/n L/n is a skank that no one would touch with a ten-foot pole. That-’”

“‘That nerdy bitch will end up alone.’” Regina finished the quote, her voice meek and cheeks red from embarrassment. “I remember.”

“I’m glad you have such a good memory.” You said sarcastically. “If you wrote that about someone you say you genuinely liked, I wonder what you’d write about your own mother.”

“Y/n…” Regina sighed. This was definitely not going the way she had wanted. But at the same time, she expected this to be a sour interaction. “I didn’t mean what I wrote.”

“Oh really? What, was it just a spur-of-the-moment decision to cut out my school picture and write that?”

“I had to write it, Y/n.” The absurdity of that statement shocked you into silence, so Regina took it as a chance to continue before you told her you didn’t want to hear it. “I put myself in there to frame Cady, Gretchen, and Karen for making the book. But then I remembered that you weren’t in there. I never wanted you in that book, but I didn’t want you to be blamed for it if Mr. Duvall realized you weren’t in it.”

“So…” You were trying to wrap your head around Regina’s words. “You wrote all that stuff… to protect me?”

“I hated every minute of it.” Regina seemed so serious; she looked so desperate for you to believe her. “It was so hard to write that, because I didn’t believe any of it. The truth is… I’ve actually liked you for a long time, Y/n.” You looked at her bewildered, and she took your silence as a cue to continue. “That’s why I had never put you in the book. I remember always pretending to forget or lose my pencils so I could talk to you because you’d always let me borrow yours. Or I’d leave one of my books at home, hoping that you’d share yours with me.” Regina took a deep breath, reminiscing on the little moments she had with you before she ruined it all. “It’s so corny, but I never felt as on top of the world as I did when you were talking to me.”

You stared at Regina, completely shocked. This was not at all what you were expecting when she begged you to listen to her. At the most, you thought it’d be a little apology, and then she’d leave. Instead, you had gotten a full-on love confession from Regina George, who, for the first time probably ever, looked scared as she waited for your response.

“I’ll leave you alone now.” She said after another minute of awkward silence. “I promise I won’t try to bother you anymore. And again, I’m really sorry.”

Regina stood up, but your hand shot out and grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked down at you to find that you were already staring at her.

“I…” You started, still trying to process the situation. “I guess I can forgive you. And I suppose I could give you another chance. You know, like a do-over.”

“Really?” Regina smiled hopefully, lowering back down into her chair. You realized your hand was still clasped around her arm, so you let go and cleared your throat.

“Yeah. I mean, after all, you gotta make it up to me. Emotional damages and all.” 

You returned to the notes and textbook you had neglected, found where you had left off, and started writing again. Regina took this as her cue to leave, and she wondered what would happen after this. But before she could stand up again, your free hand drifted to hers on the table, pinky laying over hers. She smiled and curled her small finger around yours.

You stayed there until the end of your free period. And when the two of you went to your next class, which you shared, Regina was both relieved and ecstatic when you sat in the seat next to her without a second thought.

[hayatoseyepatch]

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∘∙⊱Description: Who would our little less experienced characters go to for help in pleasing their partner?

∘∙⊱Featuring:  Haruka Sakura, Jo Togame, Kyotaro Sugishita, Hajime Umemiya, Akihiko Nirei, Hayato Suo x fem!reader

∘∙⊱Words: 2.7k (I might have gotten a wee bit carried away, oops)

∘∙⊱Tags: fem!reader, minor spoiler warning for the manga (nothing too specific mentioned), aged up, smut, threesome, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, petnames, praising, degradation, dacryphilia, oral (m&f receiving), etc.

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a/n: Please be gentle with me I haven’t written anything proper in like 2 years lmao. But I’m currently obsessed with windbreaker and figured I’d take matters into my own hands for creating some content for these boys. Enjoy some spicy headcannons! You know the drill, 18+ content MDNI.

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-Sakura is a damn mess. I love this boy so much but he is. Because lets be honest, even getting together with Sakura was a project. This poor baby never even had someone show him friendship let alone love.

-(Slight Manga Spoilers) Sakura has gone to Togame for help before when it came to  the battle with Noroshi, and Togame has proven himself to be someone Sakura can rely on. Sakura treats everything like a fight, this is no different.

-Togame, in comparison, had much more experience. Being in Shishitoren was a lot on Togame before he met Sakura, so he had his fair share of sexual partners to relieve some stress.

-Sakura was new to relying on others, and even newer to asking for help. His face a bright red and a deep furrow in his brows. Togame took one look at his expression, eyebrows raising in curiosity. “What’s up Sakura, you good?” He had asked lazy crooked smile in place, tough he’d be lying if he wasn’t a bit concerned.

-Sakura’s scowl only deepened in response. “I need your help with something.” When Togame had urged him to go on, between clenched teeth he had asked him to help him pleasing his partner.

-To say Togame was shocked would be an understatement. Sakura’s furrow in his brow deepened. “Listen, I know your much more experienced than I am, I just.. I want to make sure she feels good too. But I fucking swear one smart ass comment and I’ll beat your ass into next week. You got it?” Togame’s eyes softened he knew how Sakura was, how hard it was for him to ask for help. He must really care for you. He agreed without a second thought.

-It wasn’t long before he found himself in your shared bedroom. His eyes wide at your form clad in nothing but a cute matching set the both of your cheeks adorned with the same bright red hue. He had to remind himself why he was here. He was here to help his friend, but gods were you so damn beautiful.

You felt so exposed, tears collecting on your lashes, as Togame has you spread open for Sakura. Your back resting against Togame’s chest, your thighs hooked over his, fully exposing your dripping center to Sakura’s hungry gaze. Togame’s long fingers drawing lazy circles over your needy clit. Your essence was dripping from your opening onto the sheets below, it had felt like Togame had been teasing your for hours, mind already swimming and neither of them had even filled your cunt. Togame’s other hand gently thumbing at your nipple, had you wiggling desperately in his grasp.

“See, Sakura, you need to take your time. You see how much of a mess her pretty pussy is making?” He chuckles, deep and breathy, right into your ear. “All that wetness is gonna make it feel so much better for the both of you. Plus just see for yourself how sexy it sounds”

Sakura felt like he was going to explode, his cheeks radiating warmth with how red they were, his cock straining against his pants, aching for attention.  All Sakura could do is nod eyes locked on your dripping cunt. “Go ahead Sakura, slowly slip two fingers inside, that’s it, see how easy it is?” he grins at the look on Sakura’s face at the squelching sound your cunt makes, coupled with the sound that falls from your lips at the feeling of his fingers stretching your once empty cunt. “sh-shut the fuck up I know how to put my fingers inside, asshole” Sakura grumbles, but he couldn’t deny Togame was right, they’ve never slipped in with such ease before.

Togame chuckles once more. “Oh she’s so responsive, how adorable~” Sakura’s eyes are wide, he’s never heard you make that sound before, he quickly gets drunk on your reactions, fingers gliding in and out of your cunt with ease with how wet you were. Togame continues to guide Sakura, telling him just how to position his fingers in such a way that he is repeatedly hitting the spot deep inside you that has your vision going white.

“Oh! H-Haruka, right there, please please I’m gonna~” You cry out, embarrassed at how loud your volume had gotten as you beg for release. Togame finally picks up speed, his fingers no longer drawing lazy patterns but circling your clit faster now. “That’s it doll, don’t hold back, show Sakura how good he’s making you feel.” Sakura watches intently, mesmerized, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers body trembling as he and Togame’s fingers guide you through your orgasm. Sakura surging forward, lips claiming yours hungrily, swallowing your moans. Coming down from you high, breaths panting as you try and calm your racing heart and trembling thighs.

“Alright Sugar, I think your ready for the main event.” Both you and Sakura’s eyes widen at Togame’s words, you were both in for a long night.

Umemiya & Sugishita

-Let’s be honest here, Sugishita is trusting NO ONE other than Umemiya. He hold so much respect for him and I feel like if he’s going to anyone its him.

-I feel like his partner also spends plenty of time with Umemiya, so it wouldn’t be a stranger who is being invited into their bedroom. A good bit of Sugishita’s time is spent helping Umemiya in the garden or with meetings, so its safe to say that his partner spends a good bit of their time on the rooftop with them.

-Sugishita also knows that Umemiya will be gentle and not push any boundaries that  him or his partner are uncomfortable with. He finds some relief knowing Umemiya isn’t going to go all sadistic on his partner.

-That being said Sugishita is still so nervous to ask for help. He’s worried in some way he’d be disappointed in him for not being able to fulfill his partners needs. Umemiya is so caught off-guard when he asks too, Sugishita rarely ever asks for help so as the leader and viewing Furin’s members as his siblings of course he’s happy to help! Though Sugishita’s next words were ones he couldn’t have guessed even if he tried.

-When the time comes, and the three of you are in the comfort of your bed, they dwarf your frame. These boys are BIG, Sugishita is 6’3” and Umemiya is 6’2” so honeybun I’m praying for you for real.

-Umemiya is so patient, his gentle words guiding both of your actions, he is fully in hold of the reins. He has the both of you hanging on to his every word.

“That’s it Sugishita, be gentle, ease into her. She how much easier it slides in after warming her up?” Umemiya’s voice is tender, guiding Sugishita’s actions and easing your mind. His deep baritone spoken directly in your ear has you letting out shudder. Sugishita lets out a deep groan, you were always tight, normally struggling to take his girth. But your velvet walls pulled him in the wetness from the last hour Umemiya spent between your thighs making him slide in with ease.

“So.. fucking.. tight” Sugishita grunts, heeding his mentor’s word, resisting the urge to slam into you desperate to feel more of you. You whimper at the stretch, Umemiya titling your chin upwards, lips meeting your own. His tongue exploring your mouth, large hands roaming your body. One hand circles a sensitive nipple, the other has his fingers tracing mindless shapes on your clit. Effectively distracting you from the stretch of Sugishita entering your tight heat. The both of you moan loudly as Sugishita bottoms out, feeling filled to the brim and he hadnt even gotten started. “That’s it, give her a moment, let her get accustomed. Its okay sweetheart, poor little thing your tight little pussy is so full isn’t it baby?” The gentle tone of Umemiya’s voice contradicts the absolute filth that leaves his mouth. His words having you wiggling your hips desperate for more. “Please, Kyo, more.. please fuck me”

Umemiya grins, the desperate tone in your voice has his own cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. “Go on Sugishita, she asked so nicely, are you gonna make her beg?” He teases, having both of your cheeks flushing pink, as Sugishia begins to move. His hips rutting into yours,  your head being tossed back, resting on Umemiya’s shoulder. “Please.. please.. touch me Ume” You beg, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears in your desperation.

The older man grins, lips attaching themselves to your neck, his fingers resuming their ministrations on your sensitive spots. Letting out a deep growl, Sugishita picks up the pace hips slamming into your own. “You see that Sugishita, you see how deep you are inside her?” He teases, pointing out the bulge in your tummy where he can practically see just how deep he was thrusting inside you. He gritted his teeth willing himself not to cum, not yet. Not when you felt so good, not when you were making such beautiful sounds.

Your hand reaches behind you, slipping inside Umemiya’s boxers, your small hand wrapping around his cock, giving an experimental tug not wanting to leave him out. He curses into your neck. His hips thrusting into you hand as you begin pumping his length in your hand. Sugishita couldn’t take it anymore, you felt too good, your sounds doing too much to him. You too were on the edge. “Kyo, Kyo, please gonna..” You come undone with a cry, Sugishita matching your actions, spilling himself into your waiting cunt. After catching your breath, you and Sugshita have a silent conversation with your eyes, his response being an approving nod and a grunt, as you turn your half lidded gaze up to Umemiya.

“Ume.. please fuck me.. wanna make you feel good too.” The white haired male’s eyes widening at your forwardness, but as he said to Sugishita earlier, he wasn’t going to make you beg when you asked so nicely.

-See these two here… I think this arrangement is a bit different from the others. Unlike Sakura & Sugishita, it isn't Nirei going to Suo for help for his partner, but rather Suo helping Nirei get some experience under his belt.

-Suo is already training Nirei, taking him under his wing to show him how to defend himself, to him this was just another lesson for him to give the blonde.

-Nirei was confused when Suo had texted him telling him to meet him at his apartment rather than their usual meeting spot for training. Regardless, he followed instruction, curious as to where Suo lived. After all these years of knowing him, he still only knew what Suo let him know about him he was a mystery to him.

-He met Nirei at the door his signature closed eye smile adorning his face, laced with mischief, as he led him inside. “y/n isnt here, Suo?” Nirei had asked curiously, also with a twinge of nervousness.

-Suo was extremely perceptive, he noticed the cherry red that dusted Nirei’s cheeks whenever you greeted him or made idle chatter. How could he not? You were breathtaking after all. So Suo would throw one of his closest friends a bone. Tilting his head with a smile. “Oh no, she’s here, just in the bedroom waiting for our lesson.”

-Nirei didnt know what he was expecting when he followed Suo into their bedroom, but he nearly fainted seeing you sat on the bed waiting patiently in nothing but your bra and panties. Before he could profusely apologize for catching you in such a state of undress and run, his friend had placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Today’s lesson is going to be a bit different, today me and y/n are going to be teaching you about inflicting pleasure rather than pain.”

-The nervous blonde thought his heart might just beat right out of his chest, was this a cruel prank from you both? Had Suo caught him staring at you and decided to give him a humiliating punishment?

-He would be a liar if he said he hadn’t imagined being with you before. If he hadn’t spent late nights fucking his fist, imagining it was you touching him instead. If he didn’t whimper your name in his pillow as he came.

-But when your big doe eyes met his, a delicate hand reached out to welcome him into the bed with a comforting nod of your head offering your consent, who was he to say no?

“He’s awfully eager isn’t he darling? Oops it seems like your mouths a bit full, how silly of me~” Suo chuckled, tone in his voice teasing, as he stuffed your mouth full of his cock. His eye softening as he looked down at you, fingers carding gently before tugging just the way he knew you liked, forcing more of his cock down your throat.

Your moans sent vibrations around Suo’s cock, he was right, Nirei was surely eager. His tongue lapping at your pussy like a man starved. His inexperienced tongue was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Suo needing to remind him to take breaths. Said man, chuckled once more, teasing voice filling the room.

“Nirei, she isn’t going anywhere we’re just getting started, make sure your focusing on her clit, that’s a boy just like, fuck, just like that.” The tail end of his sentence he wasn’t sure which of you it was directed at, the way you bobbed your head taking him expertly in your throat had the normally composed man losing his bearings. Using his grip on your hair he lifted you off his length.

“Come here.” He instructs the blonde, who reluctantly removed his face from its position buried between your thighs. You beckon Nirei to you with your hand in his, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss. Tongue quickly overtaking his own, allowing him to taste Suo on his tongue, a stark reminder of who you belonged to. This seemed to please your boyfriend, enough for him to slot himself between your legs. His cock sliding in with ease due to the wetness from Nirei’s saliva and your own arousal.

You moan, desperately into Nieri’s mouth, head being tossed back at the feeling of Suo’s cock filling you so deeply. His groan making both if you shudder. No time is wasted, you were quick to replace the empty feeling in your mouth with the blonde’s cock. He let out a loud desperate moan as the warmth of your mouth welcomes him in, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck. Suo sets a brutal pace from the beginning, determined to have all three of you coming undone at the same time.

You and Nirei’s moans and whimpers bounce off the walls, leaving no question of who was solely in control of you both in this moment. Suo felt the familiar spasm of your walls around him, indicating your impending release. “That’s it my love, come on, let go for me. Show Nirei how beautiful you look coming undone on my cock.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t close, the stimulation of your earlier ministrations bringing him to the edge faster than he normally would. Nirei is the first of you to come, a loud cry falling from his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks as he unloads into your waiting mouth. Nearly coming a second time just from the sight of you swallowing his cum, just so you would be able to cry out Suo’s name as you came on his cock. Suo was the last to topple over the ledge, your orgasm triggering his own. Hands gripping your plush hips in an iron grip as he paints your walls white. The room is silent save for the sounds of panting, all three of you catching your breaths from such intense releases. Suo’s voice is the first to break the silence.

“Alright Nirei, go on, if you clean her up real nice with your tongue I might just let you fuck her pretty cunt after.~”

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Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and as always likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. This is my first time writing for these characters so I hope I did them some justice. See you in the next one!