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babybluebex · 17 hours ago

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drink the honey | erik campbell x fem!reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in visiting your friends' bar, you happen to meet his older brother, aka the guy who pierced your ears forever ago. cue a lesson in grief and exactly what can be pierced and where, as well as a night you won't soon be forgetting. wc 9.7k (i am. so sorry.) title stolen from closer by nine inch nails. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: erik campbell (final destination: bloodlines, 2025) x fem!reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: semi-canon compliance (howard has gone to his great reward, the shop fire happened, but none of the death hitlist stuff), drinking, one single mention of jerry fuckin fenbury, mild descriptions of burn injuries/scars, lots of innuendos, smut (minors dni)(holy shit there's a lot here, bear with me yall): p in v, creampie city baby (but then mention of intention to use morning-after pill), oral (f!receiving), genital piercings (like... we all watched the same movie, we know what's going down), lots of teasing, hittin it from the back + spanking (i know yall saw what he did to that garbage truck), biting/hickies, one tiny quick slap to a cheek, panty thief erik, look-in-the-mirror type shenanigans, light choking, halfway decent aftercare considering the circumstances, nicknames such as: sweetheart, baby, babygirl, princess/prince 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: soooo like after a year-long writing hiatus, i am back. it's been. a lot. and as far as this fic goes, i cannot explain myself, i knew i needed erik carnally even before the garbage truck thing so like. idk, dick piercing goes brrrr. anyway. follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post a new fic!

You had only seen him once before. He had been the guy at the sketchy tattoo shop downtown that had done your second lobe piercings, and he was totally fine. It hardly hurt, probably because he was able to distract you long enough for the needle to pierce your skin by getting you talking about your own job, and he was pretty good about reminding you how to clean the piercings and everything. You didn’t exactly remember his name— something with an E, or an A? It was a little while ago, and you had been a walk-in— but you acutely remember his big, blue eyes and the stink of cigarettes that lingered on the leather jacket he wore while piercing you. That, actually, was the same jacket he was wearing right now, sitting directly across the bar from you.

He was by himself, bottle of Hice in hand, seemingly off in his own world as he gazed at the bartop. Every so often, every time the cute blond bartender passed by him, he would lift his head and give him a curt nod or a flick of his eyebrows, but he didn’t talk to anyone else or look in any one direction other than down. You were totally intrigued by him, even though he was not your usual type— as your friend beside you had joked as you walked into the bar earlier that night, maybe your “boyfriend” would be working, AKA Bobby, the cute blond bartender. Bobby was an absolute sweetheart, greeting you with a grin and asking how your night was every single time you came in, but he was a sweetie with everyone that walked into the bar, so, even though it wasn’t necessarily special treatment, it made you like him a whole lot.

Speaking of your friend… You looked one way and the other, trying to catch sight of her, and you frowned mildly as you tugged your phone from your purse. Just as you suspected, she had texted you about ten minutes before, telling you that she had absconded to go smoke, which was code for “I’m going on an adventure and it’ll be your job in two hours to track me down and get me back home”. You sighed, clicking off your phone screen, and sucked down the last of your liquor from your plastic cup.

“Lookin’ pretty glum there, friend,” a voice said, and you gazed up to see Bobby. There was a relative lull in the crowd, although the rap music playing over the speakers still shook the walls, and Bobby’s kind smile softened you. “What’s got you down?”

“Ah, shit,” you chuckled. “Not sad or anything. Just tired.”

“Tired?” Bobby repeated. “You want a vodka Redbull?”

You shook your head. “Just a long day at work,” you informed him. “Didn’t really even wanna come out, but Anna convinced me, and then immediately…” You trailed off, gesturing around you and the obvious lack of Anna. Even though you had never seen Bobby outside the bar, you had been going for years and knew him well, and Bobby had a good memory of the regulars, so he nodded, familiar with Anna’s disappearing act. “Probably one more of these, then close up my tab.”

“You got it,” Bobby said. “Single or double?”

You twisted your mouth as you thought about it. Obviously, you wanted a double, but a single would probably be better for you and your poor wallet. Bobby tilted his head towards you with a smile, almost as if to say C’mon, you know you wanna, and you sighed. “Just a single,” you told him.

“Heard,” Bobby nodded. As he made your drink, you watched him walk to the opposite end of the bar and sharply say something to the brooding piercer, and he looked up from the bartop again to say something equally sharp back at him. A weary smile passed over his face, and he pulled at the glass bottle of beer.

“Hey, so,” you started as Bobby handed you your cup. “Who’s that at the end you keep talking to?”

Bobby scoffed. “Who’s asking?” he started, popping a small black cocktail straw in your drink.

“He pierced my seconds for me a few months ago,” you explained. “Was thinking about getting my nose done, and wanted to go back to him, but I couldn’t remember his name.” A total lie; you liked your nose the way it was, with the appropriate number of holes. You just wanted to know more about him; he had a pull, like a magnet, and you needed more.

“You let that motherfucker stick needles in you?” Bobby chuckled. “And you want more? Ill-advised.”

“Okay, well, who is he?” you asked, a flash of fear running cold down your body.

“Erik,” Bobby said, and your brain flashed with recognition. Erik; that’s right. Something with an E.

“And it’s bad that Erik pierced my ears because…?” you asked. “Did he, like, get his license taken away or something?”

“No, no,” Bobby sighed. “Ah, I shouldn’t talk shit about him. He’s my older brother, though, I can’t help it. Genetically predisposed to give him hell… Maybe not genetically, but y’know, half-genetically, or whatever…”

Oh. Throughout the years, you could recall Bobby making passing mentions of his siblings— his older sister graduating college last year, his older brother flunking out of college prior to you ever meeting Bobby, his sister being “back in town”, his brother “traveling for work”, yada yada yada. “This the same brother that flunked outta college?” you asked, and Bobby laughed loudly.

“Yes!” he wheezed. “Yep, that’s him! Fuck, how do you remember that?”

“Because I’m a nice person, Bobby!” you smiled. “I remember things that people tell me!”

“Shit, that’s funny,” Bobby said. “Yeah, one and the same. Went for one semester, decided he didn’t like it, grades went downhill, dropped out before they could boot him out… Probably for the best, honestly, he never really was into the whole ‘establishment’ thing. Think he only ever went there to get our mom off his back.”

“Dad didn’t care?” you started, and a twinge flashed over Bobby’s face.

“Well,” he started. “Not necessarily, but y’know… But Dad passed away about a year ago. It sorta sucked for all of us, obviously, and that’s when Ma got intense about… Well, everything. But he had been out of college for… Shit, more than ten years, and when Dad died, Erik just… I don’t know, he had a break or something. You find out, in the wake of your dad’s death, that your dad isn’t actually your dad and that your mom’s friend is actually your dad, and that fucks with you, so I get it, but he got super withdrawn from all of us after that. I mean, shit, this is the first time I’ve seen him in months.”

“Wow,” you sighed. “That’s… Um…”

“Sorry,” Bobby said, clearing his throat. “Airing out my half-brother’s dirty laundry, I shouldn’t have… I just worry about him, y’know? He’s my big bro. He used to be so… He lit up whatever room he walked into. He’d come over to grill for family barbecues and to play video games and just to, like, hang out, but ever since that fiasco last year, he’s just… Tattoo shop, his apartment, over and over. Getting him to even stop by tonight was like pulling teeth. Truly, I think he needs a girlfriend. Boyfriend. Cat. Whatever. Something to get him out of his head.”

The man across the bar certainly did not fit the shining description that Bobby gave of the old Erik. By now, he had his phone in his hand, lighting up his face, and the light glinted off a large silver ring hanging from his nose. You remembered the same jewelry from when you met him, and you absentmindedly tugged on your earlobe. “Well, shit,” you said finally. “First of all, sorry for all of that. My dad isn’t really in my life, so I can’t sympathize exactly, but… Y’know. Still sucks. I’m sorry about that. And additionally… Jesus Christ, Bobby, you need to learn to keep your mouth shut!”

Bobby smiled. “You wanted to close your tab, right?” he asked, and you nodded. “Sure thing.”

You handed Bobby your card, and your gaze drifted to Erik one more. Still on his phone, but now with furrowed eyebrows, concentrating on something. The POS system was right next to where Erik sat, and you watched Bobby say something to his brother as he ran your card. You couldn’t read lips, so you were at a loss as to the conversation, but you watched Erik roll his eyes and swig at his beer, saying something in response to Bobby. Bobby froze up for a single second, then said something that you could obviously tell was “Really?”, and Erik nodded. Bobby seemed like he was malfunctioning, still for a moment, then turning back to the computer, then back to Erik once more, repeating “Really?”

Erik was obviously annoyed, cocking his head towards his little brother, and he went into the pocket of his leather jacket, extracting his wallet and passing his card to Bobby. Bobby pushed your own card into his empty hand and poked at the computer for a moment, and he ran Erik’s card through the computer. In a second, the POS churned out a receipt, and Bobby shoved it towards his brother as he turned back towards you and came your way. “Um,” Bobby started, a red flush hitting his cheeks. “So, Erik picked up your tab for you.”

“Huh?” you asked as Bobby slid you your card back. “Why?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Bobby shrugged. “Maybe he thinks you’re my friend or something… Well, I mean, you are, kinda, we’re friendly…”

“Or maybe,” you started. “He’s getting a move-on with that ‘girlfriend’ thing you mentioned.”

“I don’t know about that,” Bobby mumbled.

“Or, and consider this,” you began, sliding your card back into your purse and grabbing your drink as you edged yourself off the barstool. “I’m a pretty girl who just gets drinks bought for her from time to time.”

“I mean, obviously,” Bobby said with a smile. “It’s just never my brother doing the buying.”

Erik looked up from his phone as you approached him, and your heart slammed up against your ribcage with anxiety. His hair, all shaggy and a little too long, hung in his eyes, and a careful smile touched at his mouth. “Saw you talking to Bobby,” he said. He shifted slightly, opening his body towards you and not solely at the bar, and you saw Bobby give a sort-of pained smile, almost a “What the fuck?!” type of face. “Figured you were one of his little girlfriends or something.”

“No, not me,” you said. “I’m just a regular, nothing more.”

“Ah, well,” Erik shrugged. “Bobby can use as many friends as he can get.” He cast a look at his brother, who swiftly threw up a double bird, and Erik rolled his eyes. “So, does my baby brother’s regular friend have a name?”

“Yes,” you said, and a smile came across his face when you told him your name. He repeated it back to you, gentle and sweet, like he was committing it to memory. You liked the way he said your name, and the closer proximity allowed you to see his pink mouth, the skin of his lips a little dry and bitten.

“That’s pretty,” he told you. “I’m Erik, if Bobby didn’t already tell you.”

“I already knew,” you told him. A flash of confusion wiped across his face, and you put a hand up to your ear, almost as if you were showing them off. “You did my seconds a little while ago.”

“Oh!” Erik laughed. “Well, shit, I did, didn’t I? I remember you now; I knew I’d seen your pretty face before.”

“God,” you chuckled. “Are you always such a flirt?”

“Not always,” Erik said. “Only when it can make my baby brother uncomfortable.” He gestured towards Bobby with the end of his beer bottle, and Bobby gave him another “What the fuck?” type look before rolling his eyes and going to serve other people at the bar, away from you and Erik.

“Well, you’re certainly brothers, based on attitude alone,” you said, and watched as Erik hooked the toe of his boot in the barstool opposite him and tugged it out, giving you a place to sit.

“What, the blindingly good looks didn’t give it away first?” Erik asked.

“You two look nothing alike,” you told him. After a momentary beat, you added, “I like your look better than his.”

“Oh yeah?” Erik asked. “You into the brooding, mysterious types?”

You shrugged. “I could be,” you said. “I think it’s the whole, like, ‘tortured artist’ thing you’ve got going on.”

“So, that answer is yes, the brooding and mysterious type,” Erik nodded. “Tortured artists are, in my experience, inherently brooding and mysterious. Can’t claim the title if you aren’t.”

“Damn, today I learned,” you replied, and Erik gave a little laugh. You examined his face as he looked to the side, towards Bobby, to flag him down for another beer; soft skin, a little pale with a rosy flush, rough facial hair that showed a little ginger in the blue neon signage behind the bar, with thick, dark eyelashes around his almond eyes, piercing blue. A silver ring inside his nose, to match the ones in his ears; it looked like a thicker metal than you thought piercings typically were. “So, here, you can teach me something else. How did you get your nose ring in?”

“Like, how you pierce a septum?” Erik asked.

“No, like, that’s way… I don’t know…” you started, already regretting the question, knowing your next choice of words. “Way bigger and thicker than my earrings. How?” Your face burned hot at having to look him in the eyes and say the phrase “big and thick” to him, but he either didn’t catch the unintentional innuendo or actively chose not to acknowledge it.

“Oh, I see,” Erik nodded. “Yeah, so, it’s a little complicated, a lot of terminology and shit, but the short of it is that you gotta stretch it out. Like, it wasn’t this big when I first did it, I’ve had to size up the hole over the years so I could get bigger and thicker things in there.”

You bit your bottom lip to hold in your laughter, and Erik scoffed. “Okay, that was too much eye contact on my part for saying all of that, that’s my bad,” he said and shook his head. “I could have said that way differently.”

“I-It’s fine,” you told him. He exchanged the empty bottle for another one from his brother, and Bobby passed him the bent-up bottle cap, which he put into an inside pocket of his jacket. “I mean, I started it.”

“That you did,” Erik said. “But, yeah, it’s a whole thing, sizing up, it takes a while.”

“Neat,” you said. “I don’t know too much about, like, tattoos or piercings or whatever, that’s not really my style.”

“Well, I’m an open book,” Erik shrugged. “You got questions, I’ve got answers. And I won’t even charge ya for it.” He gave you a playful wink, and the heat returned to your face.

“Cool,” you nodded. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“Oh, yeah,” Erik nodded quickly. “Got more ink than skin at this point, I’m pretty sure.” With that, he shrugged off his jacket, leaving him in just the black t-shirt for some band that you didn’t know, with that weird scratchy font that metal bands usually used. You could hardly focus on the t-shirt, though; all along his now-exposed arms, he had different pieces of artwork, all varying sizes, some colorful and some not, none of them remotely similar. You felt your eyes widen as Erik held out his arms to you, and you examined the spiderwebs, serpents, and roses that he had embedded in his skin forever. “You can touch ‘em, if you want,” he offered, then winced. “I promise I’m not trying to say everything as obscenely as possible.”

“It’s fine,” you smiled. Gently, as if you were worried you’d hurt him, you brushed your fingers along the large spiderweb that encompassed the majority of his lower right arm. “I mean, it’s just skin. Skin is skin, ink or not.”

“I know,” Erik said. “But that’s a sorta cheat code with people like me— let the cute girl touch your tattoos and she might give you her number. A high success rate, you’d be surprised.”

You gently turned his arm over to get a look at the softer, paler skin on the inside of his arm, and you sighed. In large script, the word DAD was inked in, along with a pale scar in the shape of a heart towards the end. “Oh,” Erik started. “So, the heart was, um, sorta an accident. Not sorta, it was an accident, but, like, I don’t know, it’s a long story. The night after my father died, I was closing up shop by myself, and some freak fire got started. Through a series of unfortunate events, I ended up on the floor, but a jewelry case had busted in the fire and I didn’t realize it, and my arm—” He made an exaggerated splat noise that made you giggle despite the horror of the story. “Landed straight on top of it. Worst pain I’ve ever been in that I didn’t enjoy.”

“Wow,” you mumbled. “I’m glad you’re alright… I remember last year, hearing from some friends that there was a fire there, but… And I’m sorry ‘bout your dad.” You only added the last part to try to banish the thoughts that his last remark had ignited, but he did nothing to mitigate it.

“Yeah, it’s coming up on a full year,” Erik said. “And I was thinking about it recently, and I’m tired of… I don’t know. When he died, I felt like I lost a part of myself. I mean, he’s my dad, y’know, I kinda did lose a part of myself. But one day a few weeks ago, I looked down at the tat and the burn scar, and saw that everything had healed up as nice as possible, like nothing bad happened at all, and I figured that it was Pops, taking care of me one last time. I realized I was tired of being a sad little recluse, especially if he was going to make sure I was okay.”

There’s the explanation that Bobby was looking for on why Erik changed. And, it seemed, like the old Erik was starting to rise from the grave. “That’s a nice thought,” you told him. You let go of his arm and cleared your throat, going after a sip of your drink, and you added, “Do you have any more?”

“Thoughts?” Erik joked, and you smiled.

“No, tattoos,” you told him. “I’m assuming it’s not just your arms.”

“Oh,” Erik said, shaking his head. “Nah, got ‘em all over. You can sorta see this one…” He hooked a finger in the collar of his shirt and tugged slightly, showing off the corner of what looked vaguely like a bird’s wing— “And my stomach piece, and the bullshit on my sides… And more.”

You could tell he was fishing for you to ask what “more” meant, and you gave him a soft smile. You could read his energy as easily as a book, and the words that his soul and body gave to you were telling you some things that you’d rather hear his voice say and his lips move around. “More?” you repeated. His hands weren’t all full of ink, and you carefully let your finger trace the lines of his palm as you lowered your voice as quiet as you could. “My, my, Erik. That almost sounds like an invitation.”

The hand of his that you weren’t tracing touched your knee, moving slowly to give you time to retreat if you wanted to. “An invitation to do what, exactly?” he asked, and you slotted your bottom lip between your teeth. “Oh, don’t you go getting shy on me now, baby. You’re almost there. All you gotta do is ask.”

A shiver ran down your back at the sweet little name he bestowed upon you, and you battled it with venom. “What if I don’t wanna ask?” you countered. “What if I’m content just looking at the tattoos on your arms, and have no interest whatsoever at seeing what’s under— and inside— your pants?”

Erik laughed the way that only incredibly hot guys could get away with, his lip between his teeth as his laughter rumbled low in his chest. “Who said anything about getting in my pants?” he asked. Moving slowly, once again giving you time to move if you so wanted, he got up from the stool he was sat on, instead leaning up on the bar on his elbow. He was taller standing than sitting, and having to look just so slightly upward made your mouth run dry. He wasn’t a big guy, but definitely not some twig, but the energy radiating from his chest made you feel so tiny in comparison. You didn’t hate it, though. Now, as close as you were, you could smell the mentholated smoke on him, and it made you dizzy. What the fuck was wrong with you? You had never been so unashamedly turned on by someone before.

“I did,” you said boldly.

“Now, that’s mixed signals,” Erik chuckled. “You don’t wanna see the tattoos or piercings I’ve got under my jeans, and yet you wanna get inside ‘em?”

You paused, replaying what he said in your head as your eyes widened, and quietly replied, “Piercings?”

He smiled slow, biting the edge of his lip, looking like the cat who ate the canary. “It’s like I told you, babygirl,” he said. “All you gotta do is ask.”

He took a half-step closer to you, his hand landing on your waist, and he angled his head down so that his mouth was right next to your ear. To an innocent passerby, it could have looked like he was just talking to you so he wouldn’t have to shout over the music, but the words that spilled from his lips were anything but innocent: “If you knew how fucking hard I was right now, you wouldn’t be wasting any more time out here. You’d take me into the bathroom and lock the door, and you’d open your legs and let me stretch your pussy open and do whatever I want to you. Right?” You nodded quickly, your own hand reaching out and hooking a finger in his belt loop to draw him closer. His tongue slowly wet his bottom lip as he took in your reaction, and he added, “And I bet you’d just love to be split open on my cock, wouldn’t you? Take me in your mouth, in your sopping wet little cunt. I bet you’re such a slut that you’d let me… Nah, you wouldn’t let me, you would beg me… To cum inside you, breed that filthy little cunt of yours until you’re absolutely full of me.”

You nodded quickly and grunted out a meek “Mhm.”

“You ever had a pierced cock before, baby?” Erik asked softly, almost turning sweet for a moment. But you knew it wasn’t sweetness; it was condescension, he was making fun of how mild-mannered you had turned. It only made the fire under your dress burn hotter. If he could have bent you over that bar that very second, you would have let him. But then his words sank into your skin— Sank maybe isn’t the right word. It hit you like a truck, slammed under your skin like all the ink on his body, needled in with a satisfied pain. Did he say pierced?

“N-No,” you stammered. “I didn’t even know you could… That anyone would wanna…”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “You wanna know a secret?” You looked at him with widened eyes, nodding, and his big blues softened at your doe-in-headlights look. “Only just got it last year. You’ll be the first to know what it feels like.”

“Oh my God,” you gasped. “I’m flattered.”

“How ‘bout you go check out that bathroom?” he asked, and you nodded again. Your head was spinning at the notion, and Erik’s eyebrows creased for a moment. “If you don’t, that’s alright. Let me know if I’m coming on too strong, I can back off or fuck off completely, if you want.”

“I like my men strong,” you told him, and you did. Forthright, assertive, commandeering; he was ticking all your boxes. “I was just thinking about it.”

“About what?” Erik asked. “I need words, sweetheart. I can’t do what you don’t tell me about. I’ll do anything for you. Just ask.”

You cast your gaze to the side, to your forgotten drink and his beer, and you whispered, “How many of those have you had?”

“That’s only my second one,” Erik told you. “I’m not drunk. Not even a little bit. And you?”

“Just the one,” you said. “And this has been collecting melted ice since I came over. But you know that, you paid for them.”

“Fuck, am I glad I did,” Erik smiled. “I wasn’t sure how else to get your attention. You were having such a good conversation with Bobby, I was almost worried the wrong Campbell brother might get a hold of you.”

“Easy, tiger,” you told him. “You don’t have a hold of me yet.”

Erik nodded slowly, the hand on your waist carefully sliding upwards to flatten against the small of your back, his pinkie edging oh-so-slightly under the waistband of your skirt. “M’getting there,” he told you. “I like to take my time, y’know?”

“Slow and steady?” you asked.

“Something like that,” Erik replied. Then, gently, a shift to a much softer side, he nestled his lips into your neck, just below your ear, and he gave it a gentle kiss. “Go to the bathroom, get all nice and ready for me while I finish up here. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You nodded. “Don’t keep me waiting too long,” you told him, squeezing his arm.

In turn, his hand abandoned your leg and snatched your wrist. His grip wasn’t painfully tight, just enough to let you know that he meant business, and he said, “If I walk in there and catch you touching yourself, you’re gonna be in huge trouble. Okay? None of that shit, I’m the only one who makes you cum tonight.” Your eyes stuck on his mouth as he talked, the way his pink lips pulled and puckered as he talked, and that dizzy, hypnotized feeling came back. You wanted to kiss him, taste his mouth and tongue and feel his pretty lips against yours, but you were nearly certain that a quick fuck in the bathroom of a bar wasn’t exactly a “kiss” sort of situation.

Luckily, Erik read your mind. His own eyes flicked down to look at your mouth, and he sighed softly. “Lemme…” he whispered, and he surged into you, pressing his lips to yours for just long enough for you to get a head full of his scent. If he had stayed put for one second more, you would have kissed him back (again, if he decided to spread you open on that bar right then and there, you would have let him without question, so a simple kiss felt relatively lowkey), and, as he pulled away, you felt like it was a painful parting. “Just wanted a little taste,” he told you, swiping his thumb along the corner of his bottom lip. “God, if your pussy tastes half as good as your mouth, I might have to really pick my battles ‘bout what I want to do to you.”

As you departed towards the restroom, Erik sent a quick swat to your ass, and you bit your lip as you smiled at him. The restroom was towards the back, down a corridor about halfway until the room with the sign on the door, and you slowly opened it, expecting the resistance of someone in there shouting, but nothing came. A single-room situation, the counter for the sink painted shitty black with stickers for local bands and Sharpie graffiti littering the walls, and, thankfully, a functioning lock. You set your purse on the hook on the door, tugging out your phone to make sure Anna hadn’t texted you back, and you frowned at a new message from her. r u ok?? She had asked, sent less than 20 minutes ago. u haven’t come and found me and begged to go home yet!! :P

You quickly pecked out a message that was light on details, a simple got to talking to a friend, i’ll be done soon, and you turned towards the mirror, swiping at your lips with your finger to tidy up your lipstick. Erik didn’t seem all too concerned with the state of your makeup, but you still wanted it to look nice, and your concentration on cleaning up lipstick made you jump in shock when the doorknob to the bathroom started to jostle. You took a deep, steadying breath— you had never hooked up with a stranger in the bathroom before, and your chest felt full of nervous energy— and flipped the lock back on the door, then turned back to the mirror, trying to act unaffected and nonchalant.

Erik was quiet as a ghost as he entered, deliberately shutting the door behind him and locking it once more, and he came to stand behind you, looking in the cracked and dirty mirror as well. You could trace his eyeline, though, and he was only looking at you as he moved his arms to brace against the counter, trapping you against his chest. He seemed almost contemplative as he tilted his head, shifting his eyeline to your neck and the sliver of shoulder coming out of the collar, and he pressed his mouth to your bit of shoulder. He left soft, slow kisses on your skin, traveling up to your neck, then pressing another kiss below your ear. “Did you do what I asked?” he whispered in your ear. “Got yourself ready for me?”

“Not yet,” you admitted. “Was sorta hopin’ you’d do it for me.”

Quick as a flash, one of his hands was up off the counter, slithering around down your front to go up your skirt. His thick bicep pressed up against your body, pulling you closer into him, and you hummed with satisfaction as his big hand roughly cupped your pussy. He hadn’t done anything yet, hardly even touched you, really, but you were already wet, dampening your panties. “Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his cheek into your neck. “I can feel you, sweetheart, you’re soaked. Surely that can’t all be for me.”

“Who else would it be for?” you asked, and a wicked smile crossed his face.

Erik moved with confidence, like he had done it a thousand times, his fingers stroking the wetness of your panties with rough pressure, almost like he was threatening to penetrate you through the thin fabric. You realized he seemed to be mapping you out, memorizing the way you felt, and his fingers moved upwards just a bit to grind against your throbbing clit. A choked moan involuntarily left your lips, and he carefully nibbled at your soft neck. You had a feeling that he would have sank his teeth in if you would let him, and you hated to admit that you would have. Something about him made you feel dangerous for even knowing his name, and your blood felt like fire in your veins.

“You want ‘em?” Erik asked.

You panted, pressing your ass back into him like some pathetic bitch in heat, and your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of him right against your ass, stiff inside his pants. You felt like you could have drooled as Erik laughed, rumbling low in his chest, and your voice came out as a high-pitched whine: “Want your cock, Erik, please!”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked. “No prep, nothing? You like it when it hurts, huh? Fuck, what a woman…” He bit his bottom lip as he smiled and shook his head, seemingly impressed with you, and, as fast as lightning, his hand cracked against your ass, palm open, echoing around the tin bathroom. The sting and flame of pain made the headrush increase tenfold, and the burn of tears pricked at your eyes. You loved it, though. The dudes you fucked before were pretty easy and vanilla, and even though this wasn’t exactly the kinkiest hook-up to ever take place, even just spanking you was the most wild thing a guy had ever done. Something told you, though, that spanking and hitting it from the back (also something new for you) were part and parcel of Erik’s routine.

His hand bunched up in the fabric of your panties, pulling it tight for just a moment, before inching it down your legs. He greedily took in the sight through the mirror as you dug your fingernails into your palms, and his free hand moved to grasp your chin, making you look in the mirror with him. “You see that?” he whispered, capturing the soft flesh of your ear in his teeth. You nodded quickly, whimpering, and the quietest growl purred at his throat. “What do you see? Tell me.”

“I-I see…” you started, and you shuffled a bit to get your panties off completely. Erik balled them up in his fist and slipped them into the front pocket of his jeans, and your whole body pulsed and throbbed. “Am I gettin’ those back?”

“Debatable,” Erik said swiftly, and he let go of your jaw to land a not-exactly gentle hit on your cheek before grabbing your face once more. “Eyes on the prize, sweetheart, tell me what you’re lookin’ at.”

“You,” you choked out.

“Oh yeah?” he mused. “What am I doing?”

The skin-to-skin contact of his rough fingers with your clit made you think you would cum from that alone. His middle fingers circled your bud, putting the perfect amount of pressure to have your legs shake, and you keened high in your throat, squirming to press your back fully against his front. You could feel his heartbeat against your shoulder blade, dampened through your clothes but still quick, fast— he was excited, nervous, on-the-edge-of-his-seat, like you, and then you remembered the secret he had told you. He had never had sex with his piercing before. He was probably as wigged out of his mind about it as you were. “Touchin’ me,” you gasped. “Touching my clit, making me feel so good.”

“Good girl,” he whispered. His hand on your jaw slunk down, repositioning to grip your throat, and you watched his face tense as he faltered. “If I do something you don’t like, please tell me. Don’t be quiet just ‘cause I like it, okay? I wanna get my rocks off, sure, but, at the end of the day, I’m only satisfied if you are. So, if I’m too rough or say something weird or you wanna do something else, just say the word and I’ll do it.”

“You’re okay,” you assured him. “I’ve, umm… Never done anything like this before.”

His hands jumped away from your body like your skin had burned him. “Like what?” he asked. “‘Like this’, what is ‘this’?”

The ceasing of his rubbings on your clit made you sigh, and the shaking in your legs got worse. “The-the slapping,” you started, but a genuine laugh bubbled from your chest. “Looking in the mirror, choking, all of that, it’s new for me.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I-I just assumed, that’s totally on me.”

“I never told you to stop,” you offered lightly, raising your eyes to look at him in the mirror. “I never said I didn’t like it. I mean, if you hadn’t stopped rubbing my clit, I probably would’ve cum.”

Those big blue eyes of his blinked once with surprise, and he said, “Fuck. You were that close?” With your nod, Erik laughed. “Damn. Shame on me, sweetheart.”

“I do think that I want you to fuck me from the front,” you told him, easily turning to face him. “I mean, I can’t very well watch your cock sink into me if you’re fucking me from the back, can I?”

“Where have you been all my life?” Erik asked, all breathy like he couldn’t believe what you were saying to him, and you smiled. Your minds seemed to think the same thing at the same time, because his hands went under your ass to help you as you perched on the edge of the counter, opening your legs for him to see all the slick and wet he had left you with. His chest heaved as he drank in the sight of your pussy, his hands skimming up your thighs, and you reached out to grab at his belt buckle, undoing it with much more deft fingers than you were used to having. He let you get as far as pulling down his zipper before he dug his blunt nails into your soft skin, making that growling purr again.

“I just need a taste of you,” he told you, and before your brain could catch up with what he meant, he was getting down on his knees and he was getting to work, licking a broad, fat stripe up your glistening cunt. The wet warmth of his tongue made a broken moan rip from your mouth, and your head tilted back as he landed a messy kiss on your hole, throbbing and clenching around nothing. “Just like I thought, sweetheart: sweet as candy. I oughta start calling you sugar, huh?”

He shifted, standing back to his full height, and the fire in your veins grew hotter at the sight of his mouth, shining in the light with your wet. You reached out for him and drew him into a messy kiss, and you let out your first true, full-chested moan of the night as you let yourself sink fully into him, into his smell and taste and energy, and Erik’s hips bucked forward. “Fuck,” he hissed, and drew in a tight breath. “I knew it was sensitive, they told me it would be, but fuck me, that’s intense.”

“What is?” you asked, chasing him back into another kiss.

“My stupid dick,” Erik chuckled against your mouth. “Rubbing against my pants, it’s, like, holy shit. You’d think I’d never had my dick touched before, the way it feels.”

You resumed the job that you had abandoned before as you kissed him, and his hands joined you to help tug down his jeans just enough to shove down the band of his boxers, his belt buckle jingling as it moved. He had a nice dick, decently long and deliciously thick— now you understood what his whole “stretching you out” thing was about, because oh my God— but you couldn’t focus on the whole thing for too long. Extending from his beautiful rosy tip was the silver metal ball, indicative of the end of a piercing, and your stomach pitched. That was going inside of you, and you had never thought something could be so arousing. Quickly, before he could push your hand away, you wrapped your fingers around his length, pulling on his bottom lip with your teeth as you stroked his cock.

His cock jumped in your hand as he groaned, his eyebrows furrowing with the pleasure of it. “Fuck,” he gasped. “Holy shit, sweetheart, I think you’re gonna kill me if you make me wait any longer.”

“We wouldn't want that,” you told him. You shuffled a bit, opening your legs wider for him, and his strong hands angled your legs to wrap around his waist. He was quick, obviously rather skilled with it, as he grasped his cock and guided it to your hole, pressing just the smallest bit in before he raised his eyes up to meet yours. A shiver ran down your back at the eye contact, and he seemed to notice the effect he had on you, because he put a hand on your face, keeping you from moving.

“If it hurts,” he started. “Don’t tell me. Just scream for me.”

Your breaths timed in tandem as he bullied his way inside you, going slowly to savor your tight resistance, and you gasped. His dick felt so good inside you, that funny little electrical charge working overtime with every bit he gave you, but the hard ball of the piercing in you nearly made tears fall. Not because it hurt— it didn’t; it was noticeable, of course, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why it felt so damn good, it just did. His cock was stiff and hard and hot, heated steel under warm velvet, and you cried out a wrecked little noise as he bottomed out, his thick balls nestled against your ass.

Thankfully, you somehow managed to keep your head on straight and look at his face, and you saw a man possessed. His cheeks pink, his spit-slick rosebud mouth open, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows pitched, messy hair falling over his forehead. God, the man was in heaven inside you, and his moan came as he opened his eyes. “Fuck,” he laughed. “Look at that— fits like a glove. A really tight, really… Really warm, super wet… Glove— Fuck.” He abandoned the joke almost immediately, instead moving to pull his hips back, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of himself. You watched as well, seeing his softest skin all slick and shiny with your wetness, and he pulled himself out fully, watching as your hole throbbed in his absence.

“God,” you whined, a pit opening in your stomach. “Erik, baby, put it back in, please.”

“I like the way you say my name,” he told you. “You say it like… I don’t know. Like you love the way it tastes.”

“I do,” you told him. Your chest heaved as you waited for him to take pity on you, and he quickly shoved your shirt up your chest, exposing your tits and the pushup bra you had worn, and he gave a wolfish grin.

“Good,” he said. “I’m so glad. Now, sweetheart, you said you wanted my cock back inside you?”

“Yes!” you yelped. He leaned down and kissed the swell of your tits as you writhed, and you added, “Please, Erik, please, put your cock inside me again, I feel so empty without you in my pussy.”

“Such a filthy fuckin’ mouth,” Erik smiled, and he shook his head. “Nah, Bobby wouldn’t have been able to handle you, you would’ve knocked him out, you’re too much for him.”

“Y’know,” you started. “I came here tonight to see Bobby. My friend always jokes that he’s my boyfriend.”

Erik’s eyebrows furrowed, this time in confusion. “Have you fucked him?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

“No,” you told him quickly. “Just— I don’t know. Had a little crush on him, that’s all. It’s those blue eyes, makes it hard to keep a girl away. Same as you, actually.”

“Past tense ‘had’ a crush on baby brother,” Erik repeated. “Not present tense?”

“Not as of… About half an hour ago,” you told him. “Found another somebody to focus on.”

“Someone caught your attention over Bobby?” Erik laughed. “Whoever that guy is, he is one lucky bastard. I bet you’d let him lick your pussy, wouldn’t you?” He rolled his eyes at his own joke, and you giggled softly.

“I’d even let him fuck me in this gross-ass bar bathroom,” you said. “If only he would shut his stupid mouth and put his dick back inside me.”

Erik made a big show of closing his mouth, looking a little like a gaping fish, and you held back a snort of laughter. This time, you watched him, slapping your pussy with the head of his cock a few times, hearing the wet sound echo around the bathroom, and his dick twitched as he ran his thumb across his sensitive head, smearing his pearly pre-cum around. “Jesus,” he gasped. “Gotta quit doing that, s’gonna make me bust before I’ve even really fucked you.”

You watched as he situated his pierced head back at your entrance, and you felt like all the breath in your chest got knocked out in one punch as he pushed inside, a little quicker and rougher than before. He didn’t waste time to start up a rhythm, wrinkling his nose as he gripped your hips and fucked you, and your arms circled around his neck, hiding in his shoulder and attempting to muffle your noises. It wasn’t quiet exactly in the bathroom, the music from the bar proper still very clearly audible, the walls still sorta rattling with the heavy bass, and you weren’t worried that anyone out there would hear you, but you were also hesitant to risk it. “D-Does anyone know?” you stammered.

“Know what?” Erik asked. His belt rattled again as he snapped his hips forward into you, and you let out a wrecked moan into the dip of his neck.

“That we’re in here together,” you said. “Th-That you’re fucking me within an inch of my life.”

“I don’t think so,” Erik said. “Told Bobby I was heading back here, then was gonna split, but I don’t know if he saw you come back, so who knows what he knows. Why, are you worried your little boyfriend is gonna get jealous?”

“No,” you told him with a shaky voice. He was so close to that spot inside you with every drag of his cock, and you could almost taste the incoming pop of electricity that would snap on your tongue when he did.

“You want people to know I’m fucking you back here?” Erik asked. “Let the whole damn bar know that a pretty thing like you would let someone like me violate you? Damn, girl, you might be kinkier than me.”

“Not likely,” you countered. “I mean, who here has the pierced genitals?”

“Fair point,” Erik said. “Ya like it?”

“I might never go back to regular dicks after this,” you chuckled, and Erik nodded in satisfaction. “But I don’t know if it’s the piercing, or if you’re just an absolute godlike fuck, even without that thing.”

“Mix of both?” Erik offered. “I’m sure my sparkling personality has something to do with it too.”

Before you could think of a snappy comeback, he fucked into you, and that electricity popped in your mouth as white flashed in your vision. “Fuck!” you squealed, tangling your fingers in his hair. “Erik, oh my God!”

“Right there?” he asked, and you nodded quickly. His grip on your waist tightened, and you could almost feel the capillaries bursting under your skin to bruise up all tender by tomorrow morning as he fucked into that spot once more. Your whole body jostled with the feeling, and you squeezed your thighs hard around his body, urging him on. He was quick with it now, hammering into you and forcing out uh-uh-uh! moans from you, and you dug your fingernails into his scalp. He wasn’t quiet either, hissing in tight breaths and groaning as you throbbed around him, and a properly loud moan tumbled from his lips when your mouth attached to his neck, sucking at the sensitive pulse point. “Fuck, you gonna mark me up?” he panted, and you looked up at his face. His forehead under his hair was shiny with sweat, his eyes blown way the fuck out, lips bitten all red and raw— he was just about the most handsome guy you’d ever seen.

“S’that so bad?” you asked, leaning back and biting at a different part of his skin. You intended to leave many bruises, in as many places as possible, and one of his strong hands lifted from your hip to cradle your head against his neck. Your tongue soothed the sting of your bites, and you could feel his throat and chest rumble as he pitched his head towards the ceiling and moaned.

“Not at all,” he whispered. “‘Specially if you leave your pretty lipstick all over my neck.”

“Wanna leave it everywhere,” you told him. That telltale knot was tightening at the bottom of your tummy, and, based on his shaky breathing and the slow increase in volume, he didn’t have much longer left either. “E, baby,” you whispered, and he touched his forehead to yours, stealing a kiss to your mouth. “Wanna see us. Turn me around.”

The brief few seconds where he pulled out of you felt like torture, but he guided you off the counter and around, back in the position you started with. You steadied yourself on your hands, and hardly had time to even think again before he was back inside you, anchoring on your hips. It was louder now too, the hits of his skin on yours coming faster with the angle shift, and his dick (and the associated piercing) rubbed against your tender spot with every single thrust. Your legs felt like jelly and you dug your nails into the countertop as you looked up to the mirror, and you jumped with shock.

Who the absolute fuck were you looking at? By all accounts, the girl in the mirror was you— she had your eyes, your pretty face, the same outfit you wore. But her eyes were blown wide like she was rolling, her lipstick smeared across her face with her mascara gathered and running under her eyes. Her fingers moved when yours did, her chest heaved when yours did, she even moaned when you did. This was you; or, at least, this is what Erik did to you. You didn’t hate the fucked-out look on yourself.

You cast your gaze to Erik in the mirror and found him studying your reflection as well, his bottom lip firmly between his teeth. He had pulled his shirt up with the position change, and your mouth watered at the collection of tattoos on his chest and stomach, the focal point being the large, dark skull in the middle of his torso. His stomach tensed and flexed as he fucked you, and you only managed to catch a momentary silver glint of nipple rings (what the fuck was with this guy?) before the knot in your stomach began to loosen, threatening the last shreds of your sanity.

“Erik!” you squealed. Skillfully, he molded his front to your back and placed his arms over top of yours, threading your fingers together as he bit at your shoulder.

“You gonna cum?” he asked, and you sobbed as his rhythm changed, from quick and hurried, to one hard slam after the other, a decidedly slower flow but all the more serving to get you to your end. “You gonna scream when you cream all over my cock?”

“Yes!” you cried. “Fuck, I’m so close, E, please!”

“Aw, you poor thing,” he said, all condescending once more. “Little sweetheart, can’t take it anymore, huh?” One of his hands started to inch away from yours, and you knew exactly what he was on his way to do.

You weren’t sure if his rough fingers actually made contact with your clit when you came. True to your word, you sobbed and moaned through your climax, drawn from so deep within your chest that it almost hurt, your head dropping forward as your whole body shook in the aftermath of the absolute assault on your nervous system. Erik’s strength was on full show now, because he used the little bit of it that he still had harnessed to keep you upright, his arm around your waist as he roughly buried himself up to the hilt in you, and it didn’t take long for you to feel the warmth of his cum inside you. You hadn’t even thought about a condom until right that second, when it was decidedly too late for one.

And then it was quiet. Not completely, of course; his breathing was rattly and hard from exertion, and you were sniffling and whimpering, but it was much less noise than it had previously been. He cleared his throat and sniffed, and he carefully stood back to his full height with a sigh. “Goddamn…” he whispered. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“M’good,” you whispered. “Just… Holy shit.”

Erik chuckled raspily. “I know,” he said. “Think you can stand, or do you need me to hold onto ya?”

“I can stand,” you assured him, and he slowly withdrew from you, earning himself one last, pathetic moan as his piercing rubbed against the spot inside you that felt raw and ultra-sensitive. The emptiness inside you was a strange feeling that you weren’t used to, and you tried to even out your breathing as he reached around you, grabbing at the stack of paper towels next to the sink. Before you really knew what was happening, he was on you again, turning you and lifting you back onto the counter, and you started, “Erik, I can’t, not again, give me a minute before—”

He shushed you, soft and gentle. “Not what I’m doing, sweetheart,” he told you, lifting your head up to look at him with a finger under your chin. He ran the tap against a few of the paper towels, soaking them with cold water, and he carefully wiped at your cheeks, trying to cool you down and help you settle. “There you go, that’s good, we’re calming down, we’re okay. What’s the shaking for? You alright, is it just the adrenaline? Or is something wrong?”

You hadn’t even noticed the quivering that had started in your hands until he said something, and you frowned. “I’m alright,” you whispered. “Just… Oh my God.”

He gave you a lopsided smile, then went to wipe down the sides of your mouth, cleaning up your makeup. “I know,” he said. “That was… I’ve never been like that before. I don’t know what happened to me. S’like I got inside you and, like, Hulked out or something. That was super fucked up, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You couldn’t help your laughter. “See that?” you repeated. “Erik, I’m the one you were fucking, I lived through that. Don’t know if I’ll be able to walk tomorrow, let alone out of here tonight.”

Erik pouted at you. “Poor little princess,” he joked. “Need your prince to carry you into your Uber home?”

“I don’t need saving,” you smiled. “But I might need your number.”

Erik shared your smile, and he swooped in to land a kiss on your mouth. “See? I told you; we let cute girls touch our tattoos, and we get their numbers.”

When you woke up the next morning, in your own apartment, Anna already puking her hungover guts out in the bathroom, the first thing you thought about was Erik. You both managed to escape the bathroom unnoticed, even if you were walking like you had just ridden a bike across the country nonstop, and you found Anna out front, sharing a cigarette with some frat-dude-looking motherfucker. She hadn’t seen you and Erik together, so she didn’t try to pry into what you had been doing, but you caught Bobby’s eye, and he absolutely knew. Erik went back to his seat at the end of the bar, and you heard him ask his brother for a shot of tequila, and Bobby asked about what had happened just then, but Anna was whisking you away before you heard Erik’s response. It didn’t occur to you until you were already in the Uber home with a much-more-drunk-than-you Anna that you didn’t actually give Erik your phone number, and you could have hit yourself. How stupid did you have to be? Dude fucks you dumb and cums inside you, and you don’t even get his fucking number? What a fail.

Your whole body was sore and raw as you shifted in bed, grabbing at your phone tangled in your blankets. It was on 2% battery, having been forgotten the moment you got home, but it wasn’t the battery percentage that you were focused on. You had two texts, both about an hour old and from the same unsaved phone number, a local area code. The first text was a payment to you for $50, and the second said I’m an idiot. Get some breakfast and a Plan B. Take care of yourself. :)

Just as you were unlocking your phone to text Erik back, asking how exactly he got your phone number (probably Bobby), your phone vibrated with a third text; you could envision, for the past hour, him pacing around and debating whether to text you again. You had certainly done it before, and then promptly thrown your phone across the room when you finally hit send. So when will I get to see you again?

You hit the call button, and the phone trilled for just a few seconds before the call picked up. Erik’s raspy voice, half-morning voice and half an obvious hangover from time spent at the bar after you left, said your name, as sweet as honey, like the first time he said it, but it wasn’t a question, like he was surprised you called. No, he was even and prepared, calm, cool, and collected. The memory of him last night, eyes blown out like he was on molly and his hair in his face, flashed in your mind’s eye, such a contrast from him right now, and you smiled. “If I sent you my address, would you come pick me up?” you asked. “We can get breakfast together, and you can see me again.”

“Only if you also wanna see me,” Erik said.

You could hear his smile from across the phone, and it made you smile even wider, like some lovesick teenager. “I would love nothing more.”

#erik campbell #erik campbell x reader #erik campbell smut #erik campbell x you #final destination bloodlines #richard harmon #i uh don't look at me i'm blushing #if i missed any tags or like the format is fucked up lmk plsnthx #missed yall! love yall!

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loucifersbitch · 22 hours ago

Note

196. “i’ll untie you if you’re good” for BuckTommy 💕

featuring some unreliable narrator Buck and bottom Tommy

He hadn't planned it this way. He will swear until his dying day that this is not how he thought the day would go.

"Evan, come on. What the hell -" Tommy says, struggling against the straps binding his wrists and ankles to the chair. "I'm not running away. I promise!"

"I can't take that chance," Buck says, stepping back. "We're gonna talk, and I'll untie you if you're good and actually hear me out this time."

"Evan," Tommy groans, dropping his head back.

"So," Buck pulls up a chair so they're sitting facing each other, "how have you been?"

Tommy looks at him, face completely blank except for the flash of his eyes.

"Great," he says, monotone, glancing down at himself. "Never been better."

Buck sighs. That was a dumb question.

"Right. So, um, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you." Might as well just say it. "And I'm tired of missing you. I'm tired of not having you. I'm tired of not sleeping at night because I know I sleep better when you're there. And if you don't want to get back together, that's fine. I'll get over it. But I can't keep dancing around the issue."

"Which issue?" Tommy asks. "The one where I broke things off and ran away? Or the one where we hooked up, I asked to get back together, and then immediately stuck my foot in my mouth and ran away again? Or now when you have me tied to a chair?"

"All of it," Buck starts, getting up and pacing. "I've had a lot of time to think about it, about us. And I know I'm in love with you. And I'm pretty sure you're in love with me. What kind of guy helps his ex escape the US Army and FBI in a stolen helicopter unless he's in love with him, y'know? But then Bobby died and life happened, and I - I should've called, Tommy." He stops pacing, leaning with his hands on the back of his abandoned chair. "I should've called after you left instead of waiting until I needed a favor. And I should've called after the Army released us. Or after the funeral. Or at literally any time between then and -" he looks at their surroundings "- and breaking into your house to tie you up."

He can tell Tommy's staring at him. He doesn't want to look over and see whatever expression is on Tommy's face after all of that though. The silence drags on, time moving so slowly Buck wonders if he was hit by another lightning bolt without realizing.

"Evan," Tommy coaxes, his voice soft. Buck looks at him after a moment, waiting for his fate. "Untie me."

That's fair, really. He walks over, the chasm in his chest opening wider with each step. He wants Tommy but... If he can't have him, it'll hurt, but he'll get over it eventually. Maybe they can even be friends if Buck promises to never break into his house again.

Starting at Tommy's ankles, he undoes the two straps, moving onto the wrists and freeing Tommy completely. Defeated, Buck is ready to leave. He stands up and starts to turn, heading for the front door, but a hand on his elbow stops him.

Letting himself be pulled back, he faces Tommy, expecting to be told off or given a lecture or something. What he doesn't expect is Tommy pulling him into a kiss. He's so shocked, he can't even kiss back. When Tommy pulls back, Buck sways a little, unsteady, but Tommy catches him.

"Sorry," Tommy says, like he has anything to be sorry for. "Was that not okay? I just thought aft- mfph," Buck cuts him off, diving into another kiss.

Buck grabs Tommy's waist, pulling him close before walking them both back toward the bedroom. They must knock into a table because there's a thunk against the wall and something falls to the floor, but neither of them stop to check.

"We still haven't talked," Tommy gasps when Buck leaves his lips to latch onto the side of his neck instead. "I thought you wanted to talk, baby."

"Mm," Buck hums, releasing the skin where he's started a small mark. "Do you want to be my boyfriend again?" he asks, going right back to the same spot, laving over Tommy's pulse in the process.

"Y-yeah, but -"

"Me, too. See? We talked," Buck says, kissing him once more.

Tommy's back hits the closed bedroom door, and Buck crashes into him, feeling the long, hard line of his cock against his thigh. He groans, needing fewer layers between them now.

"Baby," Tommy sighs, kissing Buck and fumbling for the doorknob behind him. The door finally opens, and Tommy pulls him through with a murmured, "Come on."

A few too-long minutes later, Buck pounds into Tommy, draping himself over his back and listening to gorgeous noises Tommy makes. God, he's missed those.

"Missed you, too," Tommy grunts. Buck hadn't realized he'd said that out loud. "Missed this cock, holy shit."

Buck laughs, a little giddy. He feels almost stupid with how much he loves the man underneath him.

"Hold on," he says, uncurling himself from Tommy and pulling out, pushing Tommy onto his back. "Wanna see you."

"Yeah, yeah," Tommy nods, eager to comply. He curses when Buck enters him again, his eyes closing as his mouth drops open in pleasure.

"That's it," Buck breathes, getting his arm under Tommy's knee and pushing his leg up and back, opening him wider. Tommy looks debauched, sweaty and heavy lidded with his hair a complete mess. "Fuck, Tommy, look at you. I love you so much."

"Love you, too, baby," Tommy says, pulling Buck down into a kiss. "Probably shouldn't - ah, yeah - shouldn't say it for the first time when you've got your dick in me, but I didn't get to say it earlier."

Buck laughs again. He hasn't felt this light in months. He drops Tommy's leg and gets a hand around his cock instead, fucking into him while he jerks him off. Tommy cums soon after, pulling at the sheets so hard Buck worries they'll rip. Buck pulls out, fucking his fist until he cums on Tommy, adding to the mess he'd already made.

He takes a few seconds to catch his breath, then says, "Back in a second. Towel."

When they're both mostly clean ("I still need a shower, Evan. I'm not sleeping covered in leftover jizz." "Yeah, yeah, but later.") they hold each other, legs and arms touching as much of each other as they can.

"Hey," Tommy says, placing a finger under Buck's chin and pulling him into a soft kiss, "thanks for breaking in."

He smiles, feeling his cheeks flame.

"Sorry for the whole tying you up thing."

"Mm," he nods. "For future reference, my safeword is Volkswagen."

Buck is going to love this man forever.

#bucktommy #the ally and the beast #tommy kinard #evan buckley #jules answers #anon

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lovdigital · 2 days ago

Text

SWEAT, LOSE YOUR BREATH . . .

౨ৎ taking all of nanami for the first time

cw – not a full smut scene, dom nanami, pretty vanilla, housewife reader, big dick nanami, petnames (my love, sweet girl, gorgeous, sweetpea)

𝓚ento had always been patient with you and you’d appreciated that. Unfortunately, today he’d been feeling insatiable, counting down the hours until he could come home to you and sink himself deep into your messy cunt. His knee bounced aggressively as he tapped a pen on his desk, watching as the clocked very slowly moved from 5:29PM to 5:30PM.

As soon as his clock off time appeared on screen, he rushed up from his desk, belonging already in his satchel bag. He had no time for his secretary and coworkers bidding him farewell as he marched out the doors and towards his car like he was on a mission.

You were completely unaware of his little outburst, cleaning up the house and folding laundry like the sweet little housewife you were. That was until your phone let out a soft ping, your husband’s contact name crossing the screen.

kento 🤎

Good evening, my love. Please wait in our room until I get home.

kento 🤎

Preferably undressed.

Your cheeks grew warm at the notion but you shrugged, responding with a quick like of the first message before doing as he asked. You sat on the edge of your bed in nothing but your panties, thin material already soaked with your arousal at the thought of what Nanami was up to.

Hearing the front door open and close as well as the jingle of his car keys in the kitchen, you rubbed your thighs together in anticipation.

“Hi, Ken,” you greeted softly with a smile as he entered the bedroom, hair messy and rushing to undo his tie.

“Why don’t you lay down for me, gorgeous?” He somewhat dodged your greeting, getting straight into what he’d been waiting for all day.

You giggled excitedly and did exactly that, watching intently as he undressed before coming over. He was painfully hard, well endowed cock already leaking pre-cum and he hadn’t even gotten the chance to kiss you yet.

You smiled into his lips as he quickly wrapped his arms around you, kissing you and licking into your mouth like he needed you to survive. You gasped as he shoved your legs apart by your thighs, hand meeting your dripping pussy.

“Hm, you been this wet since I messaged you, sweet girl?” He asked with an uncharacteristic grin as his skilled fingers slipped inside you to work you open.

With a soft whine, you nodded. “Need it so bad, Kento,” you whimpered with a moan as your thighs trembled.

“Think you can take all of me today, my love?” He asked though it was less of a question than it was made out to be.

Despite being somewhat hesitant, you nodded profusely. “Ye– yes, I think so…” you nodded again as Kento gently caressed your cheek and pressed a kiss to your head.

Finally feeling like he’d prepped you enough, your husband rubbed his cockhead over your entrance before gently pushing past the opening. You hissed for a second, the first stretch never getting easier no matter how much or how long he prepped you.

“Okay?” He asked softly, eyes looking into yours for assurance on whether or not it was okay to keep going.

You nodded before remembering Kento preferred you to use your words. ‘So I really know’ he’d say. “Yes, keep going,” you nodded as you took in a sharp breath.

Your husband’s hands cradled your face as he continued pushing in, your lips wobbling as you felt heat ignite in your feet and rush up to pool in your stomach. “Oh! Oh my god,” you gasped, a whimper barely escaping through your teeth.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as he somehow kept going before finally bottoming out, feeling his pubic bone meet your ass. You gripped the silk bedsheets Kento loved so much, tears in your eyes as he pressed up against your cervix just right. “Ken– Kento,” you gasped.

“Fuckkk, look at you, Sweetpea. Takin’ all of me,” he whistled, grip on your hips near-bruising. He started shallowly thrusting, veins rubbing against your snug walls in just the right ways.

You cried out softly, a creamy ring already forming around the base of his cock.

“Cumming already? I’m nowhere near done with you, Darling.”

©lovdigital. do not copy, translate, or claim my writing as your own, use for ai bots etc. 🪽

#lovdigital ♱#mae writes ! ༊·˚#mae&her love for nanami #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x you #fanfic #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk nanami smut #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x y/n #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami

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tddyhyck · 19 hours ago

Text

nobody baby but you and me [ s.jn ]

pairings ⇢ stepdad!johnny x fem!reader / side jaehyun and mark with reader / side mom and johnny

warnings ⇢ 18+, stepcest, loss of virginity, grooming, piv sex, squirting, piss in all forms, mutual masturbation, multiple orgasms, intercrural sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, improper birth control use, painful sex (blood), period sex, sexual situations in church, creepy johnny, priest taeyong, pet names (dad, daddy, kiddo, baby, little one/girl, etc.), allusions to drugging but not with reader

word count ⇢ 24.9k 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

a/n ⇢ hi hi final part alert!! i might post some bonus stuff for these two eventually most likely on ao3 but we shall see i just love them so much 🥺🥺🥺

pt 1 ⇢ our secret, right?

pt 2 ⇢ practice makes perfect

masterlist | ao3 | kofi

the saturday before your big day passed extremely slow. your mom was home and she was in a bad mood, something about one of her clients and you didn’t really care enough to listen. you were too busy daydreaming about tomorrow, your excitement bubbling in your tummy and wetting your panties.

your dad had gotten you up extra early to give you your cunny pill since your mom was home. he’d let you lay in bed while he put it in your open mouth and let little spurts of piss splash on your tongue. he moaned as you wrapped your lips around the head and stroked his cock drinking every drop.

you felt so squirmy all day your cunny begging for him to touch it but you knew he couldn’t. he found you pouting in his office laying your head in his big rollie chair missing his smell.

“what are you hiding in here for,” he teased, squatting down on the floor beside you.

“miss your cock smell, miss you, want your cock, dad,” you whine.

“aww i know baby, soon as mom’s bed time comes i’ll give you a long cunny inspection. stretch your cunny for tomorrow,” he rubs a big hand over your head.

“i know, i want her to sleep now though. she’s so annoying, i just want to live with dad in our own house where i can play your wife and get touched anytime,” you lean into his touch pouting.

“would you like that?” you nod. “hmm, maybe dad can see about leaving with you. we can pack our stuff and go live at the beach.” johnny had been waiting for this, planning it all out. he’d already bought the beach house so all he needed was the moment you asked him to leave to run away with you.

“yes yes pleaseeee dad,” your smile shows again. “i wanna live with dad far away and never see mom again.”

“you sure about that? we’ll have to think about it a lot,” he reminds you rubbing his thumb over your mouth.

“yeah i’m so sure. i just wanna be able to have dad’s cock or fingers or mouth all the time. i wanna have dad and daughter time every single day i love dad so much,” you ramble. the idea of being with him forever and ever just you two makes you so happy you can’t stand it.

“mmm well this is our secret to think about,” he holds a pinky and you take it.

“would you miss mom?”

“mmm not when i have you. i love you so much more than her, love your cunny and clitty more. love your pretty face and smart brain. i wouldn’t even realize she was gone,” it’s true. he really didn’t care a single bit about her. all his i love you’s were as fake as the orgasms he pretended to have. and your mom well all she’d miss is the control, keeping you under her thumb and johnny would love to offer you some freedom.

“you really love me more? even like kissing me more?” you ask shyly.

“oh yes, baby, i wanna kiss you all the time. i wish you were my wife instead my pretty girl in my bed every morning, naked all day with me, just my girl, my baby, my daughter, and my wife,” he tells you.

“dad you make my heart so bouncy. i never felt like this before,” you admit.

“really? that’s because we have our special relationship. when dads and daughters love like we do it makes our hearts go really fast and our tummies get swirly and our parts tingly. you know special relationships like this can let us get married one day.”

“oh dad i wanna marry you.”

“me too baby, you’d be such a perfect wife for dad. you already are a perfect daughter,” he coos brushing your hair behind your ear.

“dad can we do that? get married and go to the beach forever?”

“mhmm we’ll think more about it okay? but me and you we’re together forever.” you nod as he leans in pressing his lips to yours letting you slip your tongue into his mouth. you whimper leaning into him holding his shoulder as you flick your tongue and slide it behind his teeth before he sucks you into his mouth. he loved how clumsy you still were, kissing him like you thought people did even if you were just pushing your tongue to his craving his taste.

“how about you take a shower baby, that will get your mind off your mom.” he offers after pulling away. “you can clean your cunny really good for me and it will be dinner soon.”

“that’s a good idea, dad. i wish you could wash me. you do it so good like your fingers cleaning my cunny,” you lean onto his shoulder.

“i know baby, but you’re a grown up tomorrow so you will have to show me how good you can clean your cunny,” he convinces you easily.

“you’ll still clean my cunny and inspect me even when i’m a grown up right?”

“oh of course, dad will always give you cunny inspections and help you wash,” he confirms.

“i’ll go shower. i’m gonna think about you the whole time and clean my cunny so good it will sparkle,” you grin, lifting yourself up off the floor and lugging him with you.

“sparkle? oh that’s impressive, i can’t wait to see it,” he smiles, turning you away and patting your butt to get you moving. you giggle scampering out of the room wiggling your butt to him as you exit.

he wonders if you know you’re killing him. your innocence melting into his perversion, he can’t stop himself from turning you into a cock hungry girl and he loves it. now you want to run away with him, it's all of his fantasies working out. taking you far away, saving you from your mom so he can corrupt you. turn you into the perfect sex daughter who wants to marry her dad wants to be her dads wife and daughter.

he sits in his office chair logging into his computer, he scrolls through his folders finding one labeled with your name. he smiles at the organization, folders of dates with pictures from his early days of watching you before he even talked to your mother. he finds his document filled with his plan double clicking it open.

he scrolls down past all of his checked boxes indicating completed tasks with you. from first orgasm, to first kiss, first exam, he’d written separate documents detailing each moment with you each special time as they built up to the night before he takes your virginity.

he got hard every single time he looked at your folder and at his master plan. everything was working perfectly, you were so easy, so desperate for attention you didn’t notice how wrong everything was and he fucking loved it. he scrolled down past all the special moments finding the section labeled future.

he grinned reading over his detailed notes of how he’d bought the beach house already knowing you’d want to run away with him. he wasn’t planning on staying there forever, he thought it would be fun to come back here and taunt you with your mom. parade you around when she would keep you locked up, and he already had his house here; he'd never sold it when he’d married your mom.

he typed, detailing the conversation of you desperately begging him to take you from your mom and marry you. his cock ached as he described your begging. so eager to be his wife not realizing it was so wrong. a worse part of him wished you were his biological girl so he could ruin you from day one. he wasn’t a child abuser, he thought, he just liked to give you what you wanted. maybe he wishes he had just seen you sooner so he could save you from your mother. yes that’s it he was saving you.

he was a good guy, that's what he told himself. he was a hero, a savior, a great dad helping you escape your mother’s control. he was nothing like jaehyun he was much better than him. nothing like haechan’s father either. he’d been present, watching jaehyun examine haechan with his dad lurking beside him. he’d been the one to take him to the exam room just like haechan had with you. even before that he got all the dirty details of jaehyun ruining his girl until she was ready for both of them.

they were helping, they were really just helping.

your mother went to sleep early like she always did before church on sunday, you’d been in your bed at the usual 8pm for saturday night. eyes wide as you waited for your dad listening for his heavy footsteps. your tummy swirled with excitement.

“hi baby,” you jumped too focused on daydreaming to hear him. “did i scare you?”

“nuhuh was just thinking about you,” you admit. he smiles down at you pulling your sheets back, his mouth opening when he sees your cunny hiding under the fabric of innocent white panties.

“you were really excited huh?” you nod, reaching for your sweet dad as he climbs into bed with you. he didn’t tell you about the sleeping pills he’d given your mother so she wouldn’t interrupt you two.

“look how clean i got,” you grin, reaching to spread your legs wide for him. he pulls the tight fabric to the side so he can see your bare cunny

“sparkly,” he leans in spreading your cunny with his fingers. “so clean baby you did so good.”

“i even put lotion on after so i’m soft,” you rub your fingers over the back of your legs.

“oh really? what a smart girl,” he leans down using his tongue to lick a stripe up the back of your thigh making you jerk in surprise. “mmm, smell so good and so soft for dad.”

“tickles,” you whimper, watching his eyes staring back at you as he continues swiping his tongue over you.

“sorry baby, you just taste so good,” he grins, he opens his mouth biting the back of your thigh making you moan.

“dad, feels, i like it,” you mumble, watching him bare his teeth against your unblemished skin. he releases your flesh, lapping his tongue over it, he leans closer head right between your legs tugging your panties so he can lap at your glistening cunny. “oh.”

you moan, leaning back as he swipes his tongue over your clitty. he doesn’t need to do much; you're already sloppy and dripping daydreaming about him. he sucks your clitty into his mouth letting his fingers prod your tight hole. he distracts you with his tongue easily pushing two fingers into you curling them up already squelching.

“dad,” you whine, he just looks up at you with a mischievous grin as he sucks you into him. rubbing his fingertips over your special spot you look back at him dumbly, obsessed with the feeling as he starts making you gush.

“feel good?” he mumbles and you nod frantically. he loves your reactions, never feeling anything like this, each time it seems brand new to you. your innocence right on your face as he shoves fingers into your virgin cunny.

“feels so good, dad, stretch me lots please, wanna have fucking with dad,” you sound so stupid not even knowing what you’re really saying just repeating his language. pretty naive girl begging for her dad’s cock like all good girls do. he pulls away flicking his tongue lightly so he can see your cunny swallowing his fingers with each push into you.

“wanna fuck dad? you sound so naughty, look how you make dad’s cock feel,” he sits back showing you the bulge in his grey sweats. you can’t help but drool, craving his taste.

“wanna feel dad’s cock on my cunny please,” you plead, reaching for his waistband. he pulls his sticky fingers out as you tug his pants down letting his big dad cock bob out.

“yeah? want dad to practice on your cunny,” you nod again. he swipes his sticky fingers over his cock before climbing onto your bed settling between your legs.

“please dad,” you whimper, voice too loud but your mother won’t hear.

“let’s see baby, can you get dad’s cock wet?” you scramble up shuffling your legs under you so you can put your lips over his cock. you know what this means you just need to spit on his cock, even if you wanna taste you just dribble saliva onto his shaft.

“atta girl,” he leans back, holding your hair as you let globs of spit fall onto his full cock. “lay down for me, did so good.”

“should i take off my panties?” you ask as your head lays in the pillows.

“no baby dad’s gonna use them to keep his cock on your cunny,” he tells you. his body cages you in and you feel so safe and loved. he holds his cock tugging your panties aside as he pushes it between the fabric with a groan.

“oh dad,” you moan, his tip hitting your clitty immediately. he groans loudly at the tightness of your panties, strangling his cock delightfully.

“oh fuck, so fucking tight baby,” he moans loudly, you can’t pull your eyes from his cock bulging in your white panties the fabric soaked with spit and slick.

“dad can’t wait for your cock in my cunny, feels so good,” you whine, before your mouth falls open soft gasps leaving your lips as he thrusts into the fabric.

“yeah baby, gonna fuck your cunny so good fill you up with dad’s boy cum. you do so good for me gonna take it so good,” he groans, the mesh of your panties clinging to his tip just right as he slowly pushes against your clitty.

“want dad, want all of dad’s boy cum love it,” you babble.

“can you touch your tits for me baby, show dad how you get them all hard,” you move your hands soft shaking hands touching your skin. gripping your small mounds squeezing before you whimper fingertips brushing the pointy buds.

“sensitive, makes my tummy jump,” you tell him, big eyes pleading with him for something.

“yeah? want dad to touch you, baby?”

“please, dad, tickle my titties please, so,” you gasp. his large hands swallowing yours grinning at your arching back his rough thumbs rubbing your nipples. squeezing your eyes shut flopping under him overwhelmed by his hands, his cock, his words.

“my pretty girl, taking dad’s cock on your cunny. so fucking sticky for me,” he groans, he can’t help himself leaning down his hair tickling your chest as he takes your nipple into his mouth. you squeal and he doesn’t cover your mouth. your mother passed out down the hall. he flicks his tongue over the nub making you squirm even more unable to escape his hold.

“oh dad, making my cunny so,” you can’t describe the feeling. your cunny pulsing as your dad’s tongue teases you, his cock slowly moving in and out of your panties.

“little tits fit in my mouth so good,” he grins, pulling away with a pop. he doesn’t give you a break, mouth latching to your other nipple sucking you into his mouth, swiping against your bud over and over. he thinks about how you’ll have full tits in a few years once he fucks you full of babies, nipples dripping milk for him to suck dry.

“daddy,” you whine, running your fingers through his hair watching his closed eyes while he slurps your chest. “more on my clitty please more.”

“wanna cum baby? want dad to make you cum?” you nod head bouncing on your pillow. he leans back pushing your thighs back so he can angle his cock against your clit. your panties are ruined coated in slick, the seams ripped from his big dad cock.

“wanna cum dad.”

“i think you’re getting addicted, baby, dad’s already touched your cunny so many times today,” he grins, thrusting against you faster, making you moan head lolling around with each bounce. “like cumming so much huh? my little baby is growing up.”

“dad, dad,” you gasp, reaching for him. he laces your fingers pulling on your tense arms to fuck into your panties faster. his cock bumping your clit with each movement of his hips.

“so close aren’t you? cunny is leaking so much,” he coos, your slick bubbling out around his cock.

“close to yeah, wanna cumming,” he loves your innocent words, too naive to know what you’re even asking him for. you just wanna feel good just want your dad to make your cunny cry.

“cum for dad baby? cum on dad’s cock,” you can’t stop back arching crying out for him as you cum. slick spilling out of you over the base of your dad’s cock. he can feel your clitty pulsing walls fluttering on his leaky cock. he can’t wait to push into you, take your virginity after you confess on sunday. he doesn’t have any guilt he doesn’t need to confess this isn’t a sin he’s just being a good dad.

“that’s my good girl, cumming for dad so good,” he grins, keeping his tip bumping into you. he doesn’t stop chasing his own sticky orgasm to coat your cunny.

“so much, dad, feels,” you whine, lazy hands trying to push him away but he keeps going, his thighs slapping yours as he thrusts into you, sloppier and sloppier as he gets closer to his own orgasm chasing him down.

“fuck baby, gonna make dad cum,” he grunts, hair falling in his face as he stares at your soiled panties.

“cum dad, want your sticky boy cum,” you plead, staring down at his slit bulging against your white panties. he groans, hips stuttering as he spurts cum over your cunny.

“fuck, my fucking good girl,” his hips slow as his cum spills over you filling your panties with sticky white. “cunny so pretty all covered in my cum.”

“want your cum on my cunny all the time, dad,” you reach a hand down sliding over the tip of his cock squishing the fluid over your clitty. he keeps his eyes glued to your tiny hand as he pulls his cock out watching you rub his cum over yourself. sticky white dripping out of the side of the fabric while you touch yourself.

“so fucking pretty baby, did so good for me,” he groans, leaning down to press his lips to yours distracting you from your cum covered cunny. you whimper letting him suck your tongue into his big mouth slurping at you. he’s so obsessed with you, your small teen body taking his big dad cock like a good daughter would. soft lips mashing against his still learning how to kiss like grownups do. his precious girl who was made for him.

“daddy wanna sleep with you, want you to hold me,” you pout, up at him, his lips kissing over your chubby cheeks.

“yeah? dad can snuggle you baby, make sure you have good dreams before our big day,” he nods to you rolling over laying beside you.

“love you dad, so excited to have fucking with dad,” you babble, curling into his sides.

“love you, baby, so much. gonna have such a good fucking with you. sleep now and it will be tomorrow before you know it,” he kisses your forehead as you slip into sleep. he stares at your cummy panties sticky between your legs seeping into your sheets. his mind swirling with his plan for tomorrow he finally is getting you in every way.

you woke up with a soft hand nudging your shoulder slowly rocking you back and forth. your eyes were slow to open, still sticky and sleepy from the night before.

“baby, c’mon gotta take your cunny medicine,” your dad’s voice filled your head softly whispering as you woke.

“sleepy,” you mumble, curling into his side.

“i know baby, but if you don’t take it dad can’t put his cock in you today,” he tells you. that wakes you up quickly, eyes and mouth opening. “that’s my girl.”

“dad i gotta peepee too,” you whimper, suddenly feeling the push of your pee against your cunny.

“hmm, how about we go together?”

“please gotta go bad,” you whine, grabbing at your cum soaked panties white flaking out the sides.

“c’mere,” he guides a hand around your waist lifting you while he lays back. you squeeze your legs tightly as he puts you on top of him your cunny pushes against his cock.

“dad, your cock is already all hard,” you giggle, reaching behind you to rub over his shaft.

“mmm that’s cause i was watching my pretty girl sleep,” he admits. “now can you put your cunny on dad’s face?”

“so hard gonna leak,” you whimper, squirming over him as he rubs your hips.

“will you try? it’s ok if you get dad wet,” he convinces you. you shimmy up his body pushing your cunny against his chest trying to keep the dribbles from coming out.

“daddd,” you whine, reaching down as your legs stretch around his chest. your bladder fails you gushing before you can stop it and spilling out of your panties onto your dad.

“oh baby has to go so bad,” he coos, his cock bouncing as your warm piss coats him. he helps you turn around soiled panties right in his face and he can’t help but breathe in deeply. his nose brushing the dripping fabric before he pulls it aside, your slit still dripping hot pee and caked in his leftover cum.

“open your mouth baby,” he tells you. he reaches up pushing his fingers into your mouth placing the same tablet onto your tongue with practiced ease.

“now drink dad.” he pushes your head down guiding your face to his stiff cock. your lips latch around him easily already craving your morning drink.

“can’t hold it,” you babble, mouth full of cock, your own piss spurting out of you before his does. he groans gulping down hot liquid slurping at your lips, not wasting a drop.

“oh dad,” your lips suction to him as he flicks his tongue against your clit. his warm piss starts flooding your mouth and you swallow greedily the pill sliding down your throat with ease. you jerk your hips against his face riding his tongue while he sucks the piss from your cunny.

you moan tummy tightening as you bob your head slurping all of his juice. your hips stuttering against his face as your stream spills over his lips dripping down his chin and onto your pillows. he thinks about pushing your face in it and fucking you later, his cock twitches in your mouth at the thought.

you don’t even notice your room door has been open the entire time. the threat of your mother coming down the hall wondering what all the noise is fills your tummy with hot nerves. what would she say? would she be happy if you and dad were having your special time?

johnny partially wishes she’d walk in to see what he really looked like when he enjoyed pussy. wishes she’d see him wrecking her daughter, turning her into a brain dead slut. johnny’s cock twitched at the idea his stupid old wife seeing what real fucking was like what real love was. not some boring hand rubbing her used up clit just to get it over with. he savored you, craved your young cunt like a drug.

he pulled your hips against him moving his face back and forth against your clitty, the last of your pee dribbling out over his tongue. the pressure made you garble on his cock his hips bucking into your face. he couldn’t help himself overwhelmed by your small tight mouth sucking him in piss gushing out of your lips and onto the sheets below him.

your eyes leaked, dripping fat tears onto his thighs but he didn’t know whether it was his own piss or not. so caught up in the feeling chasing your orgasm for you pulling you closer as your legs shook around him.

“cum, for dad,” he mumbled, his mouth sucking at your cunny. you sobbed hips jerking against him as you came his cock quieting your sounds. he wrapped his arms around you keeping you pressed to his tongue flicking over your swollen clitty until he was satisfied. your mouth hanging open as he fucked into it with ease. when he finally let you go you slid away, you cunny laying against his neck as he pushed into your cheeks.

“fuck, dad’s so close baby,” he moaned, eyes staring at your leaky hole dripping onto his chest. you used the rest of your energy bobbing your head against sucking him down.

“just like that, baby. fuck swallow dad’s cum, kiddo,” he grunts, thrusting down your throat as he shoots white into you. his hips jump slowly as you swallow him down tasting the salty goo on your tongue.

“you did so fucking good baby, got all your cunny medicine. got you all ready for church too,” he coos, you whimper popping him out of your mouth and leaning your head on his thigh.

“dad how many hours till i get your cock?”

“mmm,” he checks his watch. “only five and a half.”

“dadddd,” you bounce on his chest making him chuckle. “want now.”

“i know, you’ve been so patient though you can wait for me. plus we need to ask dr. jung for a final report,” he rubs his hands over your small butt, squeezing and massaging.

“is he gonna feel my cunny again?”

“maybe, do you want him too?”

“his fingers made my cunny really full. maybe he can stretch me for fucking?” naive girl and her grown up words.

“your cunny is gonna be so full when i put my dad cock in you,” he can’t help but grin using his fingers to spread your virgin cunny getting a look at your hole.

“want dad’s cock in me so bad wanna feel it in my belly,” you mouth against his thigh.

“oh baby, you’re so small we will be able to see it in your belly.”

“really?” you sit up looking down at your tummy hand rubbing over the soft skin imagining his big cock under it.

“mhmm, gonna see dad’s cock here,” he reaches to you rubbing his hand with yours.

“oh dad, will you take a picture i wanna see it when you put it in,” you beg.

“if you want, baby. it might be good for dr. jung to see too,” he tells you. his smart girl wanting pictures of her cunny stretching.

“unhuh, i wanna show dr. jung so he will give me another prize,” you grin, rolling over onto your back beside your dad.

“yeah? what sticker will you pick this time?”

“i dunno there were so many. i liked the sparkly ones a lot,” you tell him. on your way out of the office, haechan said you could pick any sticker you wanted as your prize for being a good patient.

“mmm, maybe dad will have to start giving you stickers for rewards,” he grins at you. “let’s get you showered and ready for church. why don’t you wear your pretty white dress today.”

you felt a little guilty for not paying attention during sunday school. you were too busy daydreaming about your dad to focus. you sat in your chair beside mark the pastor’s son while your teacher talked about how to have good and holy romantic relationships. your eyes were down focusing on mark’s bouncing knee pretending to nod and read the verses, but your panties were getting sticky.

“let’s all bow our heads,” the teacher instructed and you let your head fall, eyes staying open as he prayed wondering over to where mark’s boy cock would be. you wondered if he was big like your dad or maybe smaller like haechan. did he have a boy clitty and cunny too? did he and his dad have special time or maybe he and his mom?

his khaki pants bulged, the zipper exposed as his sweaty palms rubbed over his legs. you knew he needed some help to get his boy cum out, his cock was probably really stiff in his pants. you were too shy to reach a shaky hand over so you just stared, jumping when you realized he was looking back.

his eyes bugging wide almost like he was embarrassed, his face turning red when you smiled at him. he moved his bible placing it over the mound in his pants making you pout.

“s-sorry,” he mumbled, trying to turn away.

“it’s okay,” leaning in your whispered breath making the hair on his neck stand up. he’d always had a crush on you, on your soft spoken gentle nature, your sweet smile and now he was getting hard because your dress was riding up your thigh.

“amen, remember your bible study reading so we can discuss it next sunday,” the teacher said smiling, as people stood up chatting as some started filing out.

“mark?” you look up at him, still seated beside you, trying to push his cock down so he can stand up and walk out.

“i- uh- it’s- sorry,” he stammers.

“it’s really okay. i know boy’s cocks get tingly.” your words make his head spin, how could you look so innocent saying such a vulgar word.

“i just, you’re just, i, i'm sorry i shouldn’t,” you interrupted him reaching a hand over his bible.

“don’t apologize. it’s normal, i makes me happy that you can feel good,” your soft innocent smile as your hand rubs over the leatherback book of scripture.

“i shouldn’t be looking at you like that,” he grimaces, you smooth your hand over the cover pushing down slightly wishing you could feel him.

“i like that you do, it makes me tingly too,” you smile before standing up your dad in the doorway waiting for you. he leans back his head hitting the wall as your too short dress shows your soft skin. his eyes widen when he sees a small bite mark on the back of your thigh as you reach up to hug your dad.

johnny stares back at mark, his eyes boring into him as he grins back at the boy. he sees the bulge under his bible,and it makes his grin wider stupid teenager getting hard during bible class because a pretty girl sat beside him. mark’s mouth opens, realization slowly hitting him as johnny’s large hand sneaks over your butt rubbing softly before flipping up your skirt, showing mark your white panties squeezing the round skin. he gasps, his dick twitching an image he will savor when he guiltily jerks off in the shower tonight.

“did you have a good lesson,” your dad asks, wiggling his fingers to mark before walking you down the long church corridors.

“unhuh, i - sorry dad i didn’t really pay attention,” you admit.

“too busy with big girl stuff in your little head?” you nod shyly. “dr. jung said we could meet him in the music room for a quick recheck. do you want to do that?”

“yes please, i wanna make sure i’m all ready,” you smile. johnny grins back looking over your shoulder as mark tries to look away and walk past the two of you, his bible still firmly pressed over his bulge. johnny tugs you down the unused back hallways of the church old sunday school rooms that have yet to be remodeled.

“i think it’s just,” he trails looking at the signs outside of each room indicating what lies inside. “here.” he grins, turning the handle and pushing into the room the door creaking. the room is a little hot, the ac for this part of the church turned off to conserve.

“darling, you made it,” dr. jung is smiling already waiting for you. he wears the same grey slacks from earlier, your piss stains cleaned out by his loving wife.

“she said she would really appreciate a quick exam,” your dad smiles, his hand on the back of your waist pushing you to dr. jung, who stood in front of an old desk covered in sheet music.

“what a smart girl. why don’t you bend over for me?” he moves aside, motioning you to lean over the water stained wood.

“have you and dad been getting ready for your big day?” he grins at you as your dad helps lean you over.

“unhuh, dad’s been practicing so we can have fucking today,” you tell him, your tummy presses against the sticky wood pushing against your filling bladder.

“is that right? is he getting you good and stretched too?” you nod, head rubbing against the old paper. he squats beside you lifting your dress cooing when he sees your panties. “so pretty in white today.”

“dad said he liked my dress so much and i should wear it today,” you tell him. your dad stands beside you, his hand on the small of your back helping hold up your dress as dr. jung pulls down your panties.

“sticky girl, been thinking about your dad’s cock a lot huh?”

“so much, i can’t wait. my cunny is so excited,” you blab, dr. jung grins at johnny before he spreads your cheeks slick glistening.

“goodness, what were you thinking during sunday school? dad, look at your pretty girl,” johnny comes around keeping his hand on your back groaning at the dripping slick. his cock had been hard practically all day, bulging in his slacks while he greeted churchgoers.

“holding your pee too?”

“unhuh, dad let me go this morning when i took my cunny medicine,” you tell him.

“smart girl, taking your medicine with dad’s special drink?”

“oh she’s been doing so well, drinking all of it with every tablet,” you dad confirms with a smile. the praise melts you into the table.

“atta girl, i can see you’ve been doing good.”

“you think she’s ready?”

“oh definitely, her cunny is preparing for your dad cock.” dr. jung spreads you wide leaning in to see your slit split and dribble out more clear sticky fluid. he pushes your lips together before splitting them again making little sticky sounds fill the room.

“hear that, kiddo, your cunny is ready for dad,” he coos, leaning his head against your thigh licking at the skin making you jump.

“dr. jung, are you gonna check my inside cunny,” you look back wiggling your butt.

“smart girl, let’s check your insides,” he grins, swiping his fingers through your slick chubby lips splitting for his digits. you whine two fingers pushing into you with ease, sliding into your begging hole. “see how easy you take my fingers? your cunny is all warmed up for dad.”

“dr. jung, can you make the juice come out,” you whimper, pushing your hips back into his hand hoping for him to touch that spot inside.

“mmm, let’s find your little spot,” he wiggles his fingers inside you avoiding the spongy spot making you needy. “there it is.” he grins when you buck your hips moaning.

“good girl,” your dad coos, he can’t help sticking his tongue out to catch the slick dripping from you as dr. jung flicks his wrist.

“feels really, so good,” your head falling against the table, mouth open on old hymnal pages.

“clitty all swollen just begging,” dr. jung comments, slamming his wrist into you. “dad, why don’t you check her clitty.”

“unhnnn,” you whine out fingers gripping the edge of the desk. your dad’s large fingers sliding against your clitty. you squirm, legs starting to shake as his fingers surround your sensitive bud sliding it between his fingers. he watches in awe as your once tiny hole sucks in two large fingers eagerly.

“yeah, so sticky for your dad,” dr. jung coos listening as your cunt starts to squelch. squishy hole ready to burst as he moves faster, your pretty voice begging and pleading. “let it out, your dad wants a taste.”

“daddd,” you squeal, hips jerking as you spray into his waiting mouth. he gulps it down quickly moaning as dr. jung pulls his fingers from you letting the liquid drip into johnny’s mouth. his own cock is hard, pulsing against his zipper watching his friend taste his girl.

“such a good girl, i think your cunny is more than ready,” he soothes a sticky hand over your thigh.

“want dad’s cock so bad,” you babble, panting as you come down.

“only a bit more and then you can have it, little one,” dr. jung tells you.

“gonna do so good for me, baby,” your dad confirms, helping tug your wet panties back up. stained with your own fluids that didn’t fall into his mouth.

“you’ll have to tell me all about it next sunday. let me know how good you did,” dr. jung stands back watching johnny fix your dress over your ass.

“i promise. dr. jung are you and your daughter gonna have father daughter time even though my mom is gonna be at your house?”

“mmm, i think we will. i think we can have some special quiet time,” he smiles at you. your face glistening with sweat as your dad fixes you up.

“thank you for everything,” you say, rushing over to hug dr. jung.

“aww you are so very welcome. i love helping parents with their kids and you and your dad are very special,” he smiles, rubbing his bulge against you, his hands squeezing your small butt. the chime of the church bells interrupt you, making you pull away looking to your dad.

“let’s not be late,” he smiles.

you felt like the service dragged on. even mark’s singing went in one ear and out the other. your eyes still glued to the spot where you saw his bulge earlier, it wasn’t there now. during the sermon your head felt heavy, occasionally bobbing on your dad’s shoulder, his arm draped over the back of the pew. from any new attendee’s point of view they would see a happy couple. as the sermon neared the end your legs started bouncing, squeezing your thighs as the fullness built in your bladder.

your mom nagged at you before she kissed your dad’s cheek telling him to keep you in check while she went to dr. jung’s house. you waved at her as she pulled away from the church a weight slowly lifting the farther she drove. you felt so free and airy when she wasn’t around like you were light as a feather.

“do you want to stop for lunch? maybe some ic-“

“dad, c’mon,” you grabbed his hand, tugging him to the car before he could even finish. he couldn’t help but grin as he helped you into the car. your tummy felt swirly warm butterflies and pee swirling, as your dad walked around the car. your dad stops outside of his door waving mark over while you bounce your knees.

“oh, mark, it was great to see you today. thanks for keeping my girl company during sunday school,” johnny smiles, as mark walks over.

“oh, of course mr. suh, she uh, she’s very nice,” mark stammers his cock starting to grow in his pants. the thought of johnny touching you inappropriately made something heat under his skin.

“she is isn’t she, you know it would be great for you two to hang out more. she needs a good friend her age,” he tells mark. the boy looks away as he brushes the hair from his face awkwardly.

“uh, yeah, she should come to youth group on wednesday,” mark stammers.

“no i mean just the two of you,” johnny walks closer. mark freezes his eyes meeting the bulge in mr. suh’s slacks, his mouth falling open.

“i uh - i dunno, isn’t her mom like super strict. i wouldn’t wanna impose,” mark makes excuses, his mouth filling with spit.

“oh she would love for her daughter to have the pastor’s son over, or you could come over when it’s just the two of us. we could have lunch, watch a movie, play some games.” for a moment mark thinks johnny wants him to sneak around with his own daughter but mark shakes the thought from his head.

“sure, we could hang out. i - uh, gotta go you know lunch and stuff,” mark shuffles back johnny’s large frame imposing him.

“of course, i’ll call your dad and we can set something up.” he stares at mark as he walks away, awkward, shy kid too religious for his own good. he would be the perfect cover up, the perfect man he could mold into his girl’s pretend husband.

“dadddd,” you whine, when he finally opens the door and climbs in.

“sorry sweet cheeks, i think mark might have a little crush on you,” he grins, as he starts the car.

“do you have a crush on me?”

“mmm, i don’t just have a crush on you i love you, little one,” he reaches for your hand lacing his fingers as he pulls away.

the drive home felt like it had lasted forever, like the road had lengthened while you were away. you babbled to your dad the whole way telling him how excited you were while you played with his big fingers. occasionally you jerk hand cupping your cunny when the need for release hit you.

when you finally pulled into the driveway you leaped out of the car before johnny could even take the keys out. he giggled at you watching you race to the front door bouncing on your toes looking back at him. you motioned him with your hands begging him to come to you.

“so eager, kiddo,” he grinned at you, taking his time up the front steps, keys jingling in his hand.

“hurrrryyy,” you whined, reaching to tug on his shirt.

“hmmm, is this the key?” he flipped through his keyring making you grumble.

“daddd, want it. want cock now,” you tell him suddenly serious. your big eyes pleading with him and he can’t deny you. quickly shoving the key in the lock and opening the door, you pull him in, gripping his button down shirt.

“dad want your cock to fucking me,” you say, looking back at him as you rush down the hall. his feet are clumsy as you pull him along and he can’t help but love your neediness. his little girl really is growing up.

“i know baby, your cunny got all sticky during church didn’t it?”

“unhuh,” you whimper, tugging him into your room. “been holding my peepee too like dr. jung said.”

“yeah,” he smiles at you, grabbing your small waist, his body looming over you. capturing you in his hold as he slowly leads you to your bed your clumsy feet tripping over each other but he holds you up. “dad’s been waiting for this for so long. can’t wait for us to be the closest a father and daughter can be.”

“oh, dad, wanna be the best daughter ever. wanna have your cock to make me really your daughter,” you whine, your knees hit the mattress making you lose balance falling back onto the soft sheets. they’re still stained from this morning but dry now, johnny hopes he can soak them with you. he watches you as he slips his phone from his pocket, leaning it on the side table hitting record without you knowing. he’s gotta show dr. jung what a perfect girl you are.

“you’re so pretty, kiddo. my beautiful girl, you’ve done so much to get ready for dad,” he coos, his knees part your legs, your dress riding up exposing your sticky stained panties. he doesn’t know the last time your panties weren’t a mess and he likes it that way.

“dad helped me so much, helped stretch my cunny and give me my cunny medicine,” you whimper, reaching a hand to lace into his, your other pulling the hem of your dress higher bucking your hips up. “do i stop my medicine after i have dad’s cock?”

“no baby, you will have to keep taking it as long as you want dad’s cock fucking your cunny,” you grin up at him.

“oh good i like when dad gives me his pee with it,” you admit.

“mmm dad loves giving you all his pee,” he grins, his free hand rubbing soft circles over your thigh.

“want dad’s cock now though.”

“yeah, baby? had dad hard all day. cock’s been so tingly for you,” he leans over your using his hand to hold himself up rutting his bulge against your cunny making you whimper.

“wanna see,” you pout, looking down between your bodies. you snake your hand down fiddling with his belt, small shaky fingers trying to help.

“let dad help,” he says, leaning back, releasing your hand reaching for his buckle and undoing it with ease. you watch intently, staring at the zipper sliding down mouth watering at the sight of his grey boxers, a damp spot from his clear sticky stuff.

“dad can i put it in my mouth please,” you beg, using your hands to tug at the waistband letting his cock spring out, slapping his tummy.

“wanna taste dad again? didn’t know you liked it so much,” he smiles, reaching around you to help you sit up legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

“taste so good dad makes my cunny feel tingly and sticky,” you admit, scooting forward so his cock is right in your face. small hand gripping the base as you lean forward, eyes staring up at your dad as your tongue slides over the tip.

“mmm,” he groans, watching his pretty girl. your head lowering as you wrap your lips around him spit pooling in your mouth on command.

“taking dad’s cock so well.” every word of praise makes you move faster, push your head lower, moan louder. he loves the way you take him in and savor the taste of his skin, spit dribbling out of your stretched lips. he moves his hips, hands threading in your hair as you gag around him, the sound of your throat being intruded upon fills the room.

“like choking on dad? such a perfect little mouth,” he groans, head falls back as he moves his hips. you slobber around him, spilling onto your carpet as he slams into your tiny wet mouth. wet squelching of your small throat being hit with his tip filling the room.

“fuck baby, sorry.” he moan, pulling your hair back his cock bobbing against your cheek as you gag trying to catch your breath. “dad got so carried away.”

“liked it,” you rasp, grinning happily up at him, not bothering to wipe your mouth.

“such a good girl,” he coos, squatting down in front of you, hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls your slimy lips to his. you whine, his tongue pushing against yours as he shakes his head, the wet muscle sliding on yours.

he can’t help himself loving the way your mouth tastes like him. your tongue flicking dumbly against his still learning how to kiss properly. small hands gripping his shirt when your dad shoves his tongue in your mouth moaning as he savors you. his hands slide over your thighs sneaking over your stained panties fingers flicking against your clitty making you whine.

“wanna have fucking, dad,” you whimper, pulling away slippery chins from the mixing of spit.

“gotta stretch your cunny baby. you’re so tight now my pretty virgin girl.” he coos, standing back up rolling his sleeves up as you lay back again. his forearms flexing as he folds the fabric your cunny drools with excitement, the thought of his thick fingers filling you up.

“let’s get these sticky panties off,” he grins at you, sliding his hands under your dress tugging the waistband down over your thighs and down your legs. he tosses them in your room but he will collect them later for his memories.

“oh baby, you’re cunny is so drippy,” he groans, leaning in and pushing your thighs back. you whimper bringing your fingers to cup over your clothed tits. his nose pushes into your cunny, lapping over you wet slurping at your slit savoring all your juices.

“oh, dad,” you whimper, his large heavy tongue covering your entire cunny as he curls it into you, scooping up all the slick before swallowing it down. he pulls away too quickly making you pout, staring at him as he stands over you.

“sorry baby, dad’s being too greedy. let’s get you out of your pretty dress,” he holds your hips flipping you over eyes not leaving your cunt.

“like when dad’s greedy, i am too,” you look back at him, hair sticking to your slick chin.

“yeah baby? dad’s so greedy for you, want to keep you all to myself.” he tells you his large hands trailing up your back making you shiver. he slides the zipper down your back your sleeves already falling down.

“how did i get the prettiest daughter in the world,” he grins at you. he snakes his arms under the material lifting you off of your hands holding you up. his fingers dance over you making goosebumps prickle your skin as your breathing speeds up.

“let’s get this off of you, dad needs to see his pretty girl,” he mouthes against your bare skin. tongue dancing along your back as his hand pushes the fabric over your shoulders. he keeps his tongue sliding against your skin as his hands find your small tits.

“hnnn, dad,” you whine, he grins into your skin as his fingers rub the stiff buds.

“feels good?”

“unhuh, makes me unnn, jerky,” you mewl, hips jerking on queue when he pinches the nubs in his fingers. he can’t help but pull you closer into his chest, rubbing his stiff cock against your cunny.

“yeah? getting dad’s cock all sticky just from touching your pretty tits,” his tongue is still sliding over your soft skin. he has to hold himself back from forcing his cock into you now, so wet and warm begging to be shoved into. he has to remind himself to be gentle, you’re his girl, his baby, his daughter. he needs to make your first time feel good so you will beg for it over and over.

“want it in my cunny,” you beg.

“i know baby. can you bend over, show dad your cunny? let me stretch you out baby.” his hands slip away from your tits as you lean forward, shaky arms holding you up. large hands sliding down your waist pushing what’s left of your dress up before he spreads your ass.

“fingers, dad, please, stretch my cunny,” you babble looking over your shoulder at him.

“so pretty, keeps distracting dad,” he smiles up at you, making your face heat. he moves his hands, thumbs spreading your sweet sticky cunny, using his middle finger he slides it through your slick tapping at your waiting hole.

“dadddd, please,” you whine, not appreciating his teasing. he chuckles at you pushing his digit into you with ease making you moan out. your back arches, whining as his finger curls into you slowly pushing in and out.

“mmm, think dr. jung stretched your cunny out for dad. gonna add a finger.” you nod, mouth hanging open panting heavier as his second digit stuffs into you. soft whines spill from your mouth as he keeps his eyes glued to your cunny tight hole sucking his fingers in.

he can’t help but wonder what your cunt would feel like if he just forced himself in, shoved his too big cock into you. he knew you’d like it probably whine stupidly and apologize for pushing him away. he’d molded you into the perfect toy, craving his approval even if it hurts. he can’t help but move his hips his hard cock wishing for your hole.

“taking dad’s fingers so well, perfect little girl,” he coos, gripping your cheek while he speeds his fingers, wrist flicking his palm slapping against your swollen clitty.

“more dad, stretch more,” you plead, your arms are starting to shake every rub of his fingertips against that special spot making you weak.

“think you can do it?” you nod eagerly pushing your hips into his fingers slick drooling out of you down your clitty sticky slaps against his palm.

“want it, dad.” he doesn’t make you wait, adding his pointer finger your head falls, hanging down as you cry out. hips shivering at the stretch curling into yourself, your arms weak bending under the pressure.

“feels s’ good, full,” you whine. he goes faster scissoring his three fingers into you your walls tight and sticky clinging to him. he uses his hand to move your hips, helping you fuck yourself on his fingers as your arms fall. whimpering as your face hits your bed drool starting to pool. he twists his wrist, screwing his fingers into you, stretching your walls.

“doing so good, kiddo,” he coos, leaning closer to see your tight hole squeezing his digits. all you can do is whimper chanting for him over and over your thighs quivering.

“dadddd,” you cry out your hair falling into your mouth. “pee, gonna come out can’t, ‘s can’t.”

“doing so good. ‘s okay baby let it out get that cum out for dad,” he soothes. you squeal his fingers rubbing inside of you curling perfectly as your legs shake squirming away from him as you cum. liquid shooting out of you right as he pulls his fingers away. grinning at the site of his girl shaking as she squirts for the second time today, overwhelming her. he leans in, catching the last spray of liquid on his greedy tongue moaning as his mouth fills.

he watches you catch your breath, fingers gripping your light pink sheets as you pant into them. he soothes his large hands over your thighs watching your open hole flutter, still contracting.

“pretty girl, didn’t even pee yet holding it so good. felt really good didn’t you,” he kisses your cheek before his tongue flattens over the round muscle.

“felt,” you pause still catching your breath trying to lift yourself up. “want dad.”

“you have me baby, always have your dad,” he confirms, even though he knows what you mean. he reaches around you, turning you on your back again, your hair fanning onto the sheets. his pretty girl all fucked out, face slick with spit.

“kiss me, please,” you sigh, reaching out for him. he comes to you pressing his lips to yours softly moving against you. you relax pushing your tongue into his mouth whining when he sucks on your wet muscle.

your small fingers grip his shirt tightly pulling him onto you, spreading your legs for him. he falls onto you his cock laying over your cunny and tummy, tip leaking onto your skin. you flick your tongue into his mouth whimpering, tasting his spit eagerly. he pulls away first brushing your hair from your face.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says, suddenly overtaken by the angelic little girl laying under him. you giggle shyly, turning your face to try and hide.

“dad, your cock is so hard, i think you should put it in my cunny,” you tell him.

“hmm you think?” he grins at you pulling away moving his hips to rut against your little slit.

“unhuh, think my cunny will make dad’s cock feel good,” you stare between your legs watching his heavy cock slide over you.

“let dad take his clothes off,” he says, reaching to unbutton his shirt.

“wanna,” you say, leaning up and moving your small shaky fingers to unbutton his shirt. taking your time as you fiddle with each button slowly exposing his chest.

“you’re so sweet to me,” he says, watching your face filled with concentration. “how’s your peepee? you’ve been holding so good for me.”

“unnn, wasn’t thinking about it, daddd, why did you remind me,” you whine squirming on your butt.

“sorry, baby, not much longer and you can let it all out, dad’s cock will help get it all out of your cunny,” he tells you, your hands pushing his sleeves letting his shirt fall to your carpet onto the damp spot he helped you make.

“take off your pants, please,” you say sweetly. he obliges, sliding them over his legs now fully naked for you, his cock swaying hypnotizing you.

“let’s get you all comfy, okay, make sure you feel good,” he says, motioning you up to your bed. you slide back leaving a wet spot under your butt as you move up to your pillows. “want bear?”

“unhuh, he needs to make sure dad’s fucking is right,” you nod, reaching for your dad bear. he can’t help but linger on your words, wanting your little bear to watch your cunny get filled.

“yeah? you think mr. bear knows how to fuck pretty girls like you?” he climbs over you, your legs spreading automatically.

“dad, you’re silly, bear doesn’t have a cock,” you tell him matter-of-factly, holding up your bear to him.

“oh you’re right, maybe that’s just dad,” he grins over you, the predator claiming his prey.

“i wouldn’t know, dad takes too long to put his cock in my cunny,” you pout sassily. johnny laughs fully, your silly dig taking him back.

“hmm, dad can change that,” he settles between your legs, his hot cock above your sticky cunny.

“please dad, want dad to take my virginity,” you are so innocent so naive and pathetic, begging him to take your innocence and who is he to deny his little girl.

“yeah? so needy, cunny all drippy,” he holds his cock stroking himself as he leans in rubbing himself over your clitty making you whine gripping your bear tighter.

“dad,” you whimper, eyes staring up at him longingly.

“ready baby? gonna feel so full okay,” he tells you as you nod your head. you spread your legs wider looking down where his cock rubs over your waiting hole. he tilts his head down letting a fat glob of spit hit his cock before rubbing it over himself. he should go get lube but he’s too focused on you.

“put it in please, dad i’m ready,” you tell him, eyes not leaving as he moves his tip, angling it to slowly fill your hole. your mouth falls open watching his huge dad cock slowly disappearing, your cunny filling to the brim. your whimper, squirming when it starts to sting, gripping your bear tighter.

“h-hurts, dad,” you whimper, still watching him fill you up.

“it’s okay baby, it will stop soon. you’re doing so good, so fucking tight,” he tells you not really caring if your cunny stings he’s too obsessed with the squeeze of your virgin hole.

“uhhh, dad, please,” you beg, reaching to grab his arm, tears welling as your cunny burns.

“shhhh ‘s okay, you’re okay. almost in you all the way, see your tummy bump,” his words distract you for a minute, your eyes moving to see his cock bulging into you. the view makes you excited, your dad finally in you even if it hurts.

“cunny- it stings,” you whine out, tears starting to roll. he just coos at you shushing your whining as he finally pushes all the way in with a groan.

“see baby, you did so good, all of dad’s cock is in you. see how close we are,” he grins, seeing where his cock has disappeared in your small hole. “it won’t hurt much longer.”

“sorry dad, i- i’m trying,” you hiccup, moving a hand to rub over the bulge in your belly. he can’t help but savor your words, silly girl apologizing for being in pain from her dad’s big cock.

“you’re doing so good for me, feels so full huh?” you nod, he stays still moving one hand to tease your clit and the other holding your hand over your belly bulge. you mewl jerking in his touch making his cock hit your cervix your eyes wide.

“shhh relax baby, dad’s gonna make you feel good,” he soothes. flicking his finger over your clit making your walls start to flutter around him, your body visibly relaxing under him. he holds himself back despite the urge to fuck into you, relishing in the tightness. he knows he should have used lube but deep down he didn’t want to, he craved the drag around his cock.

“daddd, pee,” you babble, head turning as his fingers continue teasing your clitty. silent cries filling your throat as tears continue falling you want to relax but your pee threatens to come.

“hold it just a little longer,” you nod your mouth hanging open as he rubs his cock through your skin. the pain starts melting away slowly as your cunny gets distracted with your dad’s hands playing with you.

“so full,” you whimper. you feel him everywhere on you in you it takes over your senses, only dad, just dad, your dad.

“i know, baby. can you touch your tits for me, pinch your nipples for dad it will help you relax,” he instructs. you move shakily small hands quivering as you hold your small breasts whining when your fingers rub the pointy buds.

“dad feeling good now,” you moan, he can’t hold his grin back. realization dawning on your innocent face as the full feeling overtakes you, his finger still flicking your clit while your little fingers rub clumsily on your hard nubs.

“told you, kiddo, let dad move some. doing so fucking good for me your cunny feels so good on dad’s cock,” he groans as he starts to move his hips, looking down as his base appears from your cunny. he wants to just fuck you freely just pound your virgin cunt even if you’re begging him to stop but he’s your dad he can’t hurt you.

“oh dad, dad,” you call, reaching for his hand. he laces your fingers pushing your joined hands on your tummy as he moves in and out slowly. a small streak of red on his cock mixing with your cream makes him groan the physical confirmation of your virginity spilling out of you.

“fuck, you’re so fucking tight for me, feel so good for dad,” he growls. he holds your tummy down aching for the bulge of his cock to rub against his palm.

“full, so, cunny oh, dad,” you babble, your whimpers coming out with every slap of his hips. he isn’t holding back fucking his little girl full of his dad cock. filling you up over and over pulling you closer and closer to that good feeling he’s taught you so much about. his finger rubbing soft circles over your swollen clitty, he drops another glob of spit rubbing it into your fat bud.

“taking dad’s cock so well, perfect little girl,” he can’t pull his eyes from your cunny stretching around him. tight little hole latching onto him the same way your lips do.

“dad can’t hold, ‘s full,” you cry out, the pressure of his hand and cock on your bladder makes you leak. small hot dribbles spilling out of you over his cock.

“let out your pee baby gonna feel so good, pee on dad’s cock,” he instructs. your squeal as his hips speed up hot fluid spilling out of you, shooting your spray over his lower half. he spills curses watching your hot piss squirting with every thrust of his cock inside of you. his large balls plapping against your ass as he bends you more lifting your hips off the bed, wishing he could have a taste.

“holy fuck,” he groans, your eyes rolled back as you shoot your heavy stream onto his chest. arms sliding to your sides fully overtaken by the pleasure, mouth hanging open as small sounds are fucked out of you. bear is forgotten, arms limp as you begin to shake around him, walls fluttering as he keeps going, his pace never faltering as his fingers rub speedy circles on your clit spraying hot piss all over. your bed is puddling, soaking his knees as he pounds into you. the pretty sounds you make mixing with his grunts and the sound of skin slapping.

“dadddd,” you cry, the only announcement of your orgasm. hips jerking trying to escape the pleasure but he only brings you closer. calling out for him as your head presses into your pillow creaming cunny sucking his cock into you begging for his seed to fill you up. he can’t stop he can’t slow down he can’t pull his eyes away, your small body taking so much as you cum bucking as the last few gushes of piss shoot out.

“so good for dad, so fucking good. so pretty,” his words don't comprehend in your head the only thought is more and more and you want more. spit spilling from your lips as you are fucked through your orgasm overstimulation taking over you.

“pleaseee no, so much,” you manage, but he’s too close to stop.

“so close baby, you want dad to cum too right? want dad’s white stuff in your cunny?” you do you really do so you push through whimpering as his hips slap into you his groaning like music to your ears.

“want dad’s cum please, dad please,” you plead, you move your hips fucking into him like a good girl would.

“gonna fill you up baby fuck,” his head falls forward eyes closing as he moans hands dropping you onto the wet mattress as his hips buck sloppily.

“fill my cunny, dad, i earned it.”

“fuck,” his hips stutter making your mouth open as you feel the hot white shooting into you. you can’t help but squeal already obsessed with this new feeling of him fucking you full of his cum. you’ve never felt closer to your dad.

“oh dad, so full,” you reach your small hand soothing his hair as his hips slow.

“you feel so good baby, oh my god,” he stays in you cock still twitching.

“dad i wanna do it again,” you look up at him.

“yeah? dad has to rest some first. your little cunny wore me out,” he grins at you. just like he wanted, already has you begging for more.

“dad can you keep your cock in me forever, i like it,” you ask, hand petting your bear again.

“mmm can stay for a bit but how will i get any work done i’ll be too distracted,” he moves in you, slowly pulling out to see the white on his cock before pushing back in making your eyes close.

“oh fuck,” he groans.

“what dad? please stay,” you whimper.

“forgot to take pictures for dr. jung,” he runs his hands through his hair, pretending he hasn’t been filming the entire thigh.

“ ‘s ok let’s just do it more so we can show him some more,” you grin.

“mmm i like that idea,” he leans down, kissing you like married people do.

when he finally pulls out after loads of snuggles and kisses he grabs his phone pretending to take pictures but he’s really just zooming in. camera focusing on the thick white puddling out of you and onto your soaked sheets.

he takes his time helping to clean you up, fingers soothing your skin. you melt into him feeling so close to your dad and you want more of it. you can’t help but beg for more straddling his lap bouncing on his chest cunny slick and needy already.

“please dad, pretty please want more cum want more cock in me,” you whine tits jumping as you beg.

“mmm baby, isn’t your cunny tired got all stretched,” he asks, looking down at the glistening mound pressed against him.

“nuhuh cunny is so excited, cunny needs dad,” you say, leaning back using your fingers to show him. he stares, eyes glued to your puffy used cunt, slick on his chest and clitty still swollen.

“i see, you really want it baby?”

“unhuh, please, dad’s cock is tingly too,” you grin reaching around to fist his heavy cock, hard and fat as it lays on his stomach.

“mmm, slide down baby,” he tells you and you do shimmying lower so your cunny bumps his cock. “mhmm get on dad’s cock baby.”

“so slippy, dad,” you giggle as your cunny slides easily on his cock.

“feels so good baby, how about you move back and forth dad can help,” he tells you, reaching up to hold your small hips in his big hands. he grips you tightly helping you slide back and forth on him, hips moving shakily as your hands fall to his chest.

“just like that, atta girl,” he coos, watching the tip of his cock disappear between your chubby lips.

“want it in me,” you whimper. your head falling as your tummy tightens, heat filling you with every slip against him.

“gonna teach you something special okay?” you nod stupidly too cock drunk to focus. “lift up, baby.” you whine at the loss as he lifts your hips sticky strings connecting you.

“now grab dad’s cock okay.” you stare down between your legs using your fingers to hold him. “can you find your cunny hole?”

“ ‘s,” you pause, reaching your other hand biting your lips as you slide over yourself feeling for the opening. “here.”

“okay can you put dad’s cock in your cunny hole?” you whimper, lifting on your knees, head tilting as you try to move him into you. you feel impatient and frustrated why can’t he just put it in you like he did before just give you what you want.

“unnh,” you grumble. “can’t.”

“you can, baby, try for me. ‘s okay you can do it,” he encourages, watching your shaky hands try to slide his slippery cock into your even slipperier hole.

“try,” you pout, he can’t help but grin your small grumbles as you fiddle with his twitching cock. “daddd, help please.”

“you sure? i thought you wanted it really, really bad?” he teases, but brings his hand between you lifting you higher and pressing his tip into you.

“oh, found it,” you gasp, hands flying to his chest with a slap.

“go slow baby, gonna be so full,” he coos, helping you lower your hips. your eyes tight as you feel his cock sliding into you it doesn’t hurt as bad just a little sting.

“ffuck,” you mewl, his cock filling you and filling you.

“doing so good, nice and slow baby,” he soothes his hands over your hips as you lower only a small gap between complete connection.

“feel you in my tummy,” you whine, head hanging.

“cause dad has a big man cock, you have a tiny girl cunny,” he grins. he loves babying you making you smaller than you are treating you like a kid, his kid. the taboo of what he’s doing makes everything more intense, his cock harder and wetter as he fills up his daughter’s once virgin cunt. still not believing he took your innocence the thought makes him happier.

“oh, dad, oh,” you whimper, fully seated on him, his trimmed hair poking your bare skin. “love being full.”

“such a good girl, you feel so good. taking it all by yourself,” he stares at where you meet. skin pushed together your tummy bulging again making his cock twitch. “touch your clitty baby it will feel so good.”

“want dad’s fingers,” you look up at him big eyes pleading.

“just try, you gotta be a big girl,” he grins. your still sticky hand shakily coming over your mound awkwardly pushing against the skin. “clitty, baby, touch here.” he directs your fingers sliding between your puffy lips, small finger touching the bundle of nerves making you gasp.

“atta girl, makes your cunny tickle dad’s cock,” he tells you, moving your finger in small circles over your clitty.

“wan- more,” you whine.

“hmm, what do you want, baby,” he can’t stop grinning. his little girl wanting him to fuck her cunt but she doesn’t even know how to ask.

“cock isn’t moving, please dad,” you beg. eyes starting to tear from the outer stimulation and the lack of internal.

“yeah? c’mon baby, let me help,” his large hands take charge gripping your hips sliding you against him. it feels like before, his hands lifting you on him but it’s so much more. his cock pumping inside of you as you keep your fingers touching your swollen clitty.

“dad,” you chant over and over, bouncing on him stupidly. he bites his lip focusing on the squelch of your little cunny dripping around him. his cock bumps inside of you, skin slapping as he grabs your butt tighter.

“so fucking good on dad, make dad’s cock feel so fucking good,” he groans, somehow it’s even better than the first time tight hole wrapping around him like a glove.

“oh, dadddd, more, fast,” your arm is tense as you rub your clitty craving more. he lifts his legs pressing his feet into your mattress using his hips to bounce you on his lap. your mouth goes slack, moans coming with each slap of his skin against yours.

“better,” he grunts, watching your cunny suck his cock tighter and tighter. you nod, head bobbing as he slams his cock into you, small tits bouncing.

“wanna cum,” you whine, arm moving faster, fingers trying to pull you closer. you’re such a fast learner, fingers mimicking how dad touches to you.

“keep touching your clitty, let dad work on your cunny,” he groans, your walls squeezing him in as he fucks up into you. you cry out when his tip rubs your special spot, dad angling his hips to repeat the motion over and over. concentration on his face as his muscles flex, his butt bouncing into the damp sheets as you start to clench around him.

“cum, i-“ you squeal, falling forward onto your dad’s sticky chest. hips shaking against him as he keeps fucking into you, skin plapping louder as his balls bounce. your mouth open, drooling as you cum, overwhelmed and satisfied as it rolls over you. stupidly bucking against him, clitty twitching as it rubs against his hair, he doesn’t slow down rubbing his tip over your sweet spot making your eyes roll back.

“doing so fucking good, so tight around dad, taking my big cock so well,” he grunts praises. your ears start to ring, not hearing yourself calling out for your dad. his big hands rolling your hips into his, slick spilling over his cock. you don’t even know if you’ve stopped cumming, you feel it everywhere your fingertips buzzing, cunny fluttering, toes curling.

“oh fuck, kiddo,” he groans above you, cum shooting inside of you again. he barely slows keeping you gliding on him as he milks his cock, not letting a drop go to waste. your tummy feels so full, of cock, of cum, of your dad. your spit starts dripping over his chest sliding down as you drool more and more, his movements slowing but his hands roaming your butt. reaching his hand around groaning as he rubs sticky cream that’s started to spill onto his cock. using his slick fingers he rubs circles over your back cunny making you whine gripping his shoulder.

“so sticky, baby. came so hard didn’t you? cunny still squeezing me,” he coos. you nod, spit sticking to your cheek, eyes closed as you calm down. he rubs his fingers over your rim, massaging the tight hole with your mixed liquids, little muscles still contracting around him.

“dad, how does it feel even better,” you babble, tongue sliding over his skin.

“i know, baby, feels better than the first time, doesn't it? your cunny was made for dad, perfect for me,” he keeps his fingers smoothing over you, his other hand coming to brush your hair.

“dad why can’t we do it over and over wanna have fucking always,” you whine.

“we gotta be grown ups, do grown up things. can’t always play together, i wish we could.” he coos at you wiping at the spittle on your cheek.

“do we have to go to church, can dad fuck some more,” you look up at him pouting.

“you wanna skip?” you nod eagerly.

“wanna have more fucking time, please,” you whimper. how can he deny that little face.

“hmm dad will have to tell mom you aren’t feeling well,” he lifts a hand to your forehead. “hmm i think you may have a fever.” he grins down at you and you hold a finger over your mouth to keep a secret.

“yeah i feel really sick, i think i need dad’s cock to make me feel better,” you giggle.

he cleans you up again not as thoroughly knowing you will be eager for another round in no time. he lets you lay on his chest as his cock slips from you cunny spilling hot liquid over his balls. he grins to himself looking in the mirror watching the puddle forming.

he makes up some story of food poisoning at lunch to get your mom away for a bit longer. oh how he wishes she would leave forever. not much longer and he can whisk you away, he already had his lawyer working on the paperwork.

he keeps you in your room touching you fingers fucking into you stretching you out making you cum on your sheets. he loses count of how many times you’ve cum today he wishes he’d been keeping better track wouldn’t that be a perfect stat to have. he loves the damp sheets pressing into his back the smell of sex and piss floated through the room.

he finally convinced you to eat something even though you teased that you wanted to eat his cock and have a big drink of his pee. he fed you, held your cheek as you chewed, rubbing a thumb on your skin. after you finished he laid you on the table devouring your sticky cunny, tasting his cum still in you. he made you cum one his tongue, on his fingers, and finally after begged he shoved his cock in you. he couldn’t stop grinning at your blissed out face, watching the window as your neighbors passed by maybe they could hear you squealing in pleasure.

he didn’t bother cleaning the slick off the table; part of him wanted his stupid wife to find the residue. wonder if her hot young husband was cheating on her, try to beg him to stay, never once letting the thought of him fucking her daughter cross her mind. it made him giddy, he wanted to humiliate her and make her feel bad for everything she had done to you.

he snuck into your room that night his wife passed out, ear plugs shoved in her ears snoring loudly. he had to get a good look at your cunny and of course you convinced him you needed his cock to do a really thorough inspection. he held his hand over your mouth the only sound of heavy breathing and skin slapping as he filled up your spent, puffy cunny.

johnny didn’t think he’d ever cum this much or ever wanted to cum this much. maybe when he was younger. he spent the first half of his twenties being a perv with jaehyun and the other half being a creep with him. was there a difference? yes,it was normal to be young and horny and desperate, but older and horny and touching younger people under the guise of it being normal was definitely creep behavior.

jaehyun had made the guilt melt away from johnny, made him feel normal for his urges, his unnatural desires. jaehyun was arguably worse than johnny, he perved on any and everyone playing doctor for creepy parents so he could get his fingers sticky. johnny just watched, he wasn't as bad right?

you fell asleep easily your dad pumping his fingers in your sticky cunny he said he needed to help clean you up after all your fucking. you’d never felt so full, so happy, so satisfied like he was the only person in the world. whimpering softly on his bare chest as you slipped into your dreams. dreams of your dad, dreams of holding his hand, kissing him. you wanted to be with him forever and ever just the two of you.

you woke up with sun in your eyes, your bed empty and lonely as your hand searched for your dad’s warmth. you pouted when you didn’t feel him. dragging your body from the bed a light soreness coating you, you slid on a big tshirt and some panties your cunny already sticky. you wandered to kitchen smelling warm bread and hearing water running.

“dadddd,” you grinned as you rounded the corner.

“your dad had to go to his office,” your mom stands there grimace on her face, instantly ruining your mood.

“oh, good morning,” your smile dim, as you walked around your mom to the fridge.

“i’m really glad you and johnny are getting along,” she mumbles.

“uh yeah, i like him a lot, he fits right in,” your mind wanders to him, you cunny pulsing with need. absentmindedly grabbing your juice from the fridge holding it in your hand as she talks.

“he sure does. he said he would be home in a bit i have a few meetings today. can you be home alone?” your mom turns to you and eyebrow raised.

“yes mom, i’ve been doing really well,” you smile at the thought of being left alone for once, even though you’d miss your dad for this little bit.

“hmm, we will see, don’t get into anything. do your classes and read,” she says sternly. you nod watching her walk out of the door shutting and locking it.

you don’t know what to do with yourself left alone for at least an hour maybe. you wanted your dad, wanted him peeing in your mouth and giving you your cunny medicine. what you wanted most though was his cock stuffing inside of you making you feel all special and warm. getting the white sticky stuff in your cunny and filling you to the brim.

you whimpered putting your juice up without pouring a glass. you looked at the clock, you wish he’d left you a message or a secret sign of the time. it wasn’t like you could call him. you peaked out the window, your mom long gone and the driveway empty.

you thought for a second which became minutes, your craving growing inside of you as you thought about what to do. the only thing your mind welcomed was your dad’s cock and he wasn’t here. maybe no you shouldn’t, but just a touch wouldn’t hurt. dad had you touched your clitty lots yesterday it would be okay right?

you looked out the window scanning for his familiar car before hurrying to your room. you felt sneaky and dirty and bad but dad never said it was icky to touch your cunny. you just couldn’t help it you needed him whether it was his fingers, his mouth, or his cock.

once in your room you grabbed your bear hoping it would be like your dad was right there. kneeling down in front of your mirror you shimmied your panties down already damp from your wandering mind. you felt giddy as you slid them over your legs letting them hang on to one of your legs. spreading yourself wide you looked intently at the mirror your cunny swollen and exposed you’d never gotten a good look without your dad’s help but you thought you could.

“so sticky,” you mumble, reaching a timid hand between your legs using two fingers to split your slimy lips. leaning your head over you try to get a good glimpse but it’s easier to just look at your reflection. eyes wide as you stare at your girl parts wishing your hand was your dad’s.

“usually touches here,” you move your hand, rubbing the swollen numb under your fingertips with a gasp. gripping your bear tighter as you whine watching your cunny flutter and spill slick onto your carpet.

“hnnn,” you want your dad, need him. you bite your lips concentrating on your clitty, using one finger you pet it softly like touching an exotic animal. you couldn’t help the whimpers building in your throat as your tummy began to warm.

“oh,” your eyes widen suddenly finding the right spot. you tense your arm rubbing hard and fast chasing the pleasure your cunny so desperately needs.

“daddd,” you call out for him, holding your bear tighter wishing it was him. you look silly and clumsy mashing your hand against your cunny for the first time alone. thoughts of your dad filling your mind, wishing he was behind you reaching a big hand around coaxing the cum out of you.

you don’t hear him come in. don’t notice his looming presence in the doorway grin wide on his face as he watches you. your eyes trained on your cunny in the mirror, hand tense and tight as you rub and rub and rub. your poor cunny swollen with need and he wasn’t there to help you.

“oh dad, want,” you call out, bucking your hips trying harder and harder to cum. he couldn’t help but smile, his little girl growing up touching her own cunny. he could see the slick glistening on your fingers as you gasped fingers sliding greedily against your clitty.

“unnnnn,” you sound so frustrated trying to force your orgasm but what you really want is your dad. the feeling drawing closer as you linger on him letting his cock making your tummy big fill your silly head.

he can’t decide what to do. should he wait and watch let you cum on your own or should he creep up behind you help you get all that cum out of your weeping hole. he decides on the latter quite easily. footsteps quiet on the carpet as he comes over to you. he stands behind you palming his cock waiting for you to notice him.

“want cum,” whimpering your eyes only seeing your rapid hand rubbing up and down on your cunny. the need to pee that familiar feeling warming your belly so close so close almost.

“daddd,” you squeal eyes meeting his as you cum. pee spraying out onto the mirror hand trying to keep rubbing at your clitty but it’s so tired.

“feel good, baby? you nod whining as your hips buck shooting liquid on your reflection. your butt grows damp on your carpet, the stream not stopping as you start to cry embarrassment filling your head.

“sorry, dad, so sorry, i-“ you hiccup as he squats down petting your hair and running his arms over you.

“sorry why? felt good didn’t you? it’s okay to touch your cunny, baby,” he coos his soft warm voice instantly soothing you.

“but- but i didn’t - ask,” you stutter sniffling as your pee keeps pouring.

“shhh, don’t need to ask dad, i want you to feel good baby. felt really good, look at all your pee, held so much in your tummy,” he rubs his hand over your sensitive clitty pulling the hood back helping your stream arch onto the glass. you whine leaning into his touch as you let go, gripping your bear tighter as you watch the droplets grow.

“felt so good,” you confirm, nodding your head as your stream slows to small gushes.

“got all needy, sorry dad wasn’t here to take care of his girl,” he pouts letting his hand linger over your cunny rubbing its softly as you calm down.

“missed you dad needed your cock so bad. couldn’t help it,” you babble.

“i know, baby, i missed you. dad got all hard watching you sleep so pretty this morning had to touch my cock by myself.”

“you do it too, dad? you make the white cum stuff come out by yourself?” he nods at you as you turn to face him his hand resting on your butt spreading the cheeks to see you in the mirror.

“yeah dad has to touch his cock just like you touch your cunny,” he confirms, he settles in front of you on his knees.

“show me,” you look up at him hand reaching down to grip him over his jeans.

“wanna see?” you nod at him looking down as your hands race to unbutton his pants. shaky hands furious with need as you slide the zipper down. “mmm you’re getting good at that, baby.”

“do you touch it like i touched my cunny with my fingers,” you ask, tugging his waistband down.

“i touch it like when you use your hands on dad,” he confirms, letting you lower his clothes, his cock heavy and full already.

“wanna see dad, please show me,” your eyes begging. it doesn’t take any convincing leaning back to sit down opening his legs for you to crawl closer. dragging your bear on the carpet as you come to him.

“mmm, can you give me some spit?” he holds out a hand and you oblige by moving your mouth to build up saliva before spilling it out of your lips and globbing it in his palm. “good girl.”

“dad used to touch his cock a lot before he had you to help him.” he tells you using your spit to help his hand glide over himself. you lean in resting on your tummy between his legs eyes wide as you watch him stroke himself.

“did you have to get your cum out a lot?”

“mhmm dad would get so hard and pent up had to touch himself to feel better,” he groans, his hand flicking. you squirm closer wanting the best view.

“sorry i couldn’t help you dad. it’s not fair to you,” you pout leaning on his inner thigh, your bear resting opposite.

“oh little one you’re here now. had some help too, it wasn't all bad,” he tells you. you use your hand to cup his heavy balls squeezing and massaging them hoping to help him a little.

“did dr. jung help you like he did me?”

“unhuh, dr. jung helped dad get all his cum out. dr. jung is really good with his hands,” he grunts as your hand fondles his heavy sac. he thinks back to times before you, back when he was your age jerking off with jaehyun in an alleyway hoping someone would catch them.

the times jaehyun would sneak his hand into johnny’s pants during lectures grinning and showing his dimple while johnny filled his boxers. jaehyun telling johnny his big master plan of running his own practice and he even had his first patient. johnny watching as jaehyun fucked into haechan’s hole the boy whining and spraying piss out of his boy clitty while his dad, their old professor doyoung, touched his stepson.

johnny didn’t know jaehyun was so fucked up but the more he swirled into that world the more he enjoyed it. the taboo nature of jaehyun’s words coaxing thick streams of piss out of virgins while his gloved fingers stuffed them. then getting his own step toy. johnny couldn’t help but be jealous, then he found you. his tummy warmed at the memories.

“dad, you’re so sticky,” you giggle your finger tapping his tip making strings.

“cause i have my pretty girl here. like when you watch me baby makes me feel so good,” he groans, his hips bucking into his tight fist.

“when i saw you dad, made my cum shoot out, made my tummy so hot and felt so good too.” you admit, licking your sticky finger.

“yeah?” he pauses moaning, letting his lip slide out of his mouth. “made you feel a little naughty didn’t it? getting caught touching your cunny,” he already knows. he feels the same way. the feeling of your mom one day catching him buried in her daughter.

“unhuh, felt like i was in trouble but in a good way,” you squirm rubbing your pissy thighs together, your feet kicking in the air.

“i know baby, fuck, keep watching me gonna cum baby,” he hisses, his hand jerking faster over his cock bumping yours as you massage his balls.

“cum for me dad, wanna see it please,” you whimper. you can’t help yourself bringing your lips to latch around his tip hearing him call your name as he cums. hot warmth filling your mouth, the familiar taste spreading as he shoots onto your tongue. you keep sucking, swallowing him down with need as he curses, his hands threading in your hair.

“atta girl, fuck,” he leans his head back. you pull away gulping him down before letting your tongue collect any leftovers his flavor never lasting long enough.

“felt good?”

“so fucking good baby,” he grins at you, petting your hair as you lay back on his thigh.

“where did you go this morning? did you have lots of work?”

“dad had to get some papers. remember how we talked about going away just us two?” you nod looking up at him. “got all that finished so now we just need to decide when you wanna go and we can pack up.”

“really oh really dad,” you grin, sitting up and bouncing on your knees. you reach for him, wrapping your arms around him, your bear still gripped in your fingers. pulling his face in to kiss him with a loud smack. he can’t help but smile at you.

“unhuh, as long as you still wanna go and be stuck with me,” he smiles at you softly.

“wanna be with dad foreverrrr,” you giggle. you fall into him as he holds your waist taking you down with him grinning and giggling with you.

“wanna be with my girl,” he coos, cupping your cheek kissing you softly waiting for you to open your mouth sticking your tongue out to flick against his. you still hadn’t mastered kissing but johnny preferred it, your clumsy mouth slipping against his, small tongue tapping his as you whined.

he kept you close, letting you rub against him as he sucked your tongue into his mouth. lewd wet sounds filling your ears making you happy and giddy. you loved his big tongue against yours, slimy and sticky and warm, sliding against you as he tilted your head. he kissed over your cheek wet mouth mashing to your soft skin.

“dad, when we go away you can kiss me like this all the time, right?” you whine, his tongue sliding over your jaw.

“mmmm, gonna keep your lips on mine 24/7.” he confirms, grinning against your skin. you whimper rubbing your cunny over his soft cock trying to make it hard again so you can have it in you. he slides his tongue lower moving your face so he can get a better angle mouthing against the soft skin of your neck. you whine, hold tightening on your bear as his teeth slide over your neck. what he wouldn’t get to mark you as his, red and purple bruises for everyone to see.

“dad,” you moan, his teeth softly biting into your delicate skin before pulling away tongue soothing. his lips press against you as he moves to your ear flicking his tongue over your lobe making you squirm.

“tickles,” you giggle.

“i love you,” he whispers, before pulling back his eyes meeting yours.

“i love you, dad,” you lean your head on his chest. his large hands brushing over your head. “dad.”

“what is it, kiddo?”

“you forgot my cunny medicine,” you tell him.

“oh no, we can’t have that, need your cunny good and healthy so you can have all the dad cock you want,” he kisses your face again before helping you up. you kneel looking up at him as he stands over you, his cock half hard making your mouth water. “let me get your special medicine.”

“dad, wanna be naked with you,” you pout reaching for his pant leg before he can walk away.

“mmm, c’mere baby,” he coos at you, helping you stand your panties sliding off your ankle. “let’s put him on the bed.” he holds your bear tenderly, walking him to your mattress before coming back to you. he stands in front of you with large hands sliding under your shirt as he lifts it over your head. “pretty baby.”

“wanna help you,” you say, small hands reaching under his shirt lifting the hem over his head. you rub your fingers over his chest feeling his muscles under his skin before tugging his pants all the way down.

“better?”

“unhuh, like seeing you,” you admit, biting your lip.

“mmm, i like seeing you baby. can you wait on the bed while i get your pill?” you nod. you sit on your bed bear in hand again, sliding over the big stain you’d made yesterday. you watch with a big grin as your dad’s butt jiggles as he walks out of your room.

you opened your legs looking down at the sticky mess you’d been left with. maybe dad would put his cock in you after you had your cunny medicine. you used your fingers leading down and spreading your puffy cunny so slippery and sticky. you felt good touching yourself but liked it much better when dad did.

“got all messy huh, baby,” he grins at you back in the doorway.

“so sticky dad, want cock really, really bad,” you pout at him as he crosses the room.

“yeah? how about you have your cunny medicine then dad can stretch you out and fill you up,” he offers his large hand cupping your face.

“please, wanna taste daddy,” you whimper, puffy lip jutting out.

“mmm open for me,” you slack your jaw sticking your tongue out before he places the small circle on your tongue. he pulled your ankles bringing you closer to the edge of the bed making you giggle. he grabbed his cock tapping it on your tongue grunting.

“you look so pretty for me. love how much you want it, baby,” he coos. you open your mouth as wide as you can eagerly awaiting your favorite drink. he grunts softly relaxing, slowly dribbling onto your tongue.

you moan eyes wide as you start to taste him, the pill sliding down your throat going unnoticed as you gulp him down. closing your mouth to latch around his tip again slurping fast as his stream speeds up. he moans watching your cheeks swell and empty over and over.

“my pretty girl,” moaning as you swirl your tongue loving the feeling of each gush hitting your muscle. you started bobbing your head slowly sucking him into your mouth as you held your bear in front of you. johnny loved the sight, innocent sweet girl getting defiled by dad like all good daughters do.

“fuck, baby, taught you so well taking dad’s cock all on your own,” he praised, threading his fingers in your hair as his piss stream begins to taper off. you swallow the rest moving your head faster up and down, hollowing your cheeks as he hardens in your mouth.

“shit, baby, don’t make dad cum,” he groans, pulling you off of him with a pop. you look up at him smiling with your teeth as spit drips out of your mouth and onto your bear.

“how do you want dad’s cock? want dad to fuck your cunny while you lay down? wanna sit on dad’s cock?”

“wanna bend over, remember dad, you told me dad’s can fuck me like that,” you remind him.

“show me, kiddo.” you turn quickly bending your knees and exposing your cunny as your arms hold you up, your sticky bear right under you.

“mmm, i remember now. gives dad such a pretty view of your back cunny,” he smiles soothing his hands over your butt.

“dad you touched my back cunny a lot yesterday it felt really good,” you turn to look back at him, wiggling your butt.

“yeah? how about dad shows you something that feels even better than his fingers?” you nod quickly, stretching your neck to see his face come closer. he spreads your cheeks groaning at your tight rim winking back at him slick glistening over you.

hanging his tongue out as he laps over your tight hole making you gasp. pushing his mouth against you, swirling his tongue over the tight hole, you can’t help but drop your head, the sensation so new, so good, so overwhelming. whimpering as you grip your sheets his mouth moving up and down as he tastes your sweet skin mixing with leftover piss and slick. he can’t get enough of your sounds airy whines spilling as he pokes his tongue into your tight hole.

“relax baby,” he mumbles between your cheeks. you try your best, his hands squeezing your butt as you breathe deeply letting your muscles release his tongue sliding into you making you squeal. your arms dropping you onto your bear as he fills up your tightest hole. cunny dripping onto your bed as he dives deeper fingers digging into your soft skin.

“taste so good,” he garbled into your skin, spit slipping down as he devoured you. you whine, legs shaky and squirming his tongue flicking inside of you.

“fuck,” he groans, pulling back to see your head buried in your sheets, hole clenching waiting for more, cunny dripping long sticky strings. “you okay?”

“unhuh, feels funny. like it,” you babble, trying to lift yourself up again.

“yeah? one day dad can put his cock in your back cunny too,” you whimper turning to see him. one hand holding his cock rubbing against your cunny as he stares down biting his lip.

“want cock in my cunny,” you plead, pushing your hips back to meet him.

“don’t want stretching?” you shake your head, hips wiggling begging without words. “mmm, so slippery, baby. dad’s gonna fuck your cunny so good.”

“please dad, want,” you’re cut off. his thick cock plunging into you stretching your tiny hole to the max. crying out cunny beyond full arms wavering again as you try to stay up.

“oh fuck, dad,” you choke, his cock sliding out before slamming back into you filling your tummy all the way up.

“thought you were ready, kiddo,” he grins, clutching your hips pulling you into him with a slap of your skin.

“so much, too hard,” you cry out, weakly pushing against his hand but he slams into you again. his balls slapping against your clitty.

“were you fibbing?” he asks pulling you almost all the way off before pulling you back in your hips shaking in his hold.

“nuhuh, i-“ he does it again pulling almost all the way out before fucking back into you tip touching your cervix. “i just, fuck.”

“cat got your tongue, baby?” he coos already going stupid. too helpless to push him off so you suffer through the forcefulness. you’ll learn to like it.

“dadddd ‘s too much,” you squeal, arms falling making you face plant into your bear.

“feels so good though,” he grunts, pulling your fallen hips against his cock. lifting them to angle into you, crying as he rubs your special spot with his cock. each slap of his skin against yours a squelch of pleasure mixing with pain.

you keep your head pressed into your bear whimpering wishing he’d slow down but if it feels good for dad it’s okay you think. your legs shaking around him as he slows rubbing inside of you over and over.

“atta girl, not so bad when you aren’t squirming,” he moans, leaning over his arms encasing you. your tears wetting your bear as his hips speed up again grinding into you the pleasure melting the roughness into a warm sweet flavor.

“to tight around dad, still like my little virgin girl,” he coos, sliding a hand under your squeezing at your small mashed tit.

“dad,” you gasp over and over. every movement he makes bubbling in your tummy, spilling over and coating your body. fingers gripping anything you can as your clitty rubs your stained sheets.

“doing so good taking dad so fucking good,” groaning as he swivels his hips into you with practiced ease. you never even had the thought of your dad knowing how to do dad and daughter stuff before you. no thought of him having fucking with any other person not even your mom. johnny was very well practiced, far too experienced to resort to his step daughter but also freakishly deranged to only want her.

“dad, want face. wanna see you,” you babble, mouthing at your bear as you try to move under him but he’s too strong.

“hmm? wanna see me?” you nod, hair messy as you try to turn your face.

“c’mere,” he coos his harshness gone exchanged with a familiar softness gracing his face. he leans back onto his knees before he lifts your hips shifting you onto your side. he pushes your thigh higher your head partially facing him his cock still inside of you.

“better?”

“unhuh, hold me,” you whimper. he snakes his arms under you wrapping one around your thighs lifting them to angle your hips.

“sweet baby, was i too rough?” you shake your head lying but he doesn’t need to know.

“sorry baby, got carried away. you just feel so good on dad just made for me,” he soothes, holding your hand as he starts slowly thrusting into you. he bites his lip taking long deep strokes hitting you so deep you can’t focus on anything else.

“oh dad, so deep, dad,” you whimper, eyes closing, mouth hanging open as he stays slow and steady. he releases your hand pushing your thigh back so he can go even deeper. the view of your tight cunny wrapped around him as he pulls out holding him so close he can’t help but fill you back up.

“doing so good baby, touch your cunny, show dad how you touch yourself,” he grunts, watching your shaky hand slide between your legs. rhythmic whines escaping your throat as you rub stupidly against your clitty.

“dadddd,” you call out, fingers slick as they slide back and forth. “oh my god,” you cry when his cock rubs against that special spot inside your cunny.

“feels good doesn’t it? doing so good, gonna cum for dad aren’t you,” he coos, your head nodding fast as you rub your fingers rapidly. your legs relaxed dangling in his arms as he takes what’s his. speeding his hips up to slam into you hard and fast, his hips slapping your skin.

“want cum, oh god, dad, dad,” you chant your belly growing full and tight and warm all at once. he can feel you getting closer your slick walls tightening around him.

“want you to cum for me, you can do that can’t you? cum on dad’s cock,” you squeal hips jerking as you cum on his command. whining and grabbing his wrist as he fucks you through it, his hair bouncing on his forehead slamming his hips into you. your mouth wide silent screams as you cream on his cock.

“that’s my good girl. fuck feels so good for dad when you cum,” he grunts. he doesn’t slow down, pounding into you like a ragdoll your whole body bouncing back and forth.

“i- it’s, dad,” whining as you feel your body going numb with pleasure your cunny contracting as your orgasm seems to never end. your dad moving his fingers to rub your clitty making your jerk against him hands flying to push him away but he doesn’t let you just smiles at your struggle.

“one more baby, let dad have one more,” he tells you, your small hands still slapping at his wrists. that just makes him fuck you harder use more pressure on your swollen used clitty.

“fuckkk i’m so close baby, you can cum again can’t you. i know you’re so sensitive but it will feel so good,” you nod your head not even knowing what you’re agreeing too. your whole body buzzing in his hold eyes and mouth dripping as his thumb speeds up.

“da,” you babble, head foggy as your body shakes again. legs quivering voice whining without warning cunny tighter than before as you cum again for him. liquid spilling around his cock.

“just like that fuck, kiddo, gonna fill you up,” he grunts again his pretty sounds distracting you. slamming into you a few more times before groaning your name hips stuttering as you feel the white liquid shooting inside of you filling you up like you wanted. all the pain and sensitivity melts away when your cunny swallows him up.

“shit baby, did so fucking good for me,” he leans over you licking a long stripe from your exposed breast to your cheek before kissing you. “made dad feel so good.”

“dad, cunny, full,” you say stupidly.

“yeah, dad fucked your cunny full of my special dad stuff. came so much for me,” he grins above you. wet slimy lips pressing greedy kisses over your face.

“love dad cum,” babbling as your eyes look to him.

“love filling up my girl. that’s what dads are for,” he whispers. “didn’t hurt you did i?”

“nuhuh, felt so much more than ever. feel it all over,” you tell him, as he leans back.

“mmm good girl, want you to cum so hard and feel so good.” he lifts your hips slowly pulling out of your gaping hole. once such a tiny tight little thigh now you’re all grown up. he gets close groaning cock twitching as he sees the white start bubbling out of you. he can’t help but stare watching his thick white seed start to spill out of you. using his large fingers to collect it and push it back in making you whine again.

“dad, can’t,” you plead.

“need to clean you up baby, got dad all in you,” he smiles. god he loves how pliant you are just taking what he gives you not resisting. leaning down cupping his tongue and collecting his dad cum from your little daughter hole. moaning at his own taste as it fills his mouth.

pulling away he brings his face to your opening your mouth and letting his cum slowly drip onto your tongue. your eyes soft and dazed as you taste him, thick white sliding down your throat. he stares at your open mouth watching you fill up as he spits it all out for you.

“good girl,” he coos, as you swallow it down. “you did so good for dad. love how we get to be so close now sticking my grown up dad cock in your cunny.” he rubs his hands over your massaging your muscles.

“how come it feels so good and all over,” you say eyes closed, mashed into your bear as you bask in the post sex haze.

“cause we’re dad and daughter and we love each other,” his hand stroking your sticky face. “when two people love each other like we do it makes everything more intense.”

“is it like that with mom,” you ask, peaking up.

“never. can i tell you a secret,” he leans in mouthing at your neck as you nod. “dad only loves you. everything with mom is all pretend i don’t love her the way i do you. my special little girl.” you feel the warmth filling your tummy and spreading like a puddle of your pee.

“really dad? sorry you have to pretend for me,” you pout. “wanna leave so you can be happy with me.”

“you’re so sweet baby,” he rolls beside you, tucking you into his large side. “can’t wait to be with my baby forever and ever. never gonna leave me right, baby?”

“never ever gonna leave you. wanna be with dad forever,” you confirm holding your pinky out for him to link.

the rest of the week is a blur of fuckings and more fuckings and sneaky fuckings and loud fuckings and inappropriate fuckings in every position you can think of. your dad made sure to let you have fucking at least twice a day he said it was better the more fucking a daughter got because then it would make her feel good.

dad’s cunny inspections got longer, his hands groping your small tits while you covered your mouth. making sure to pinch your tiny blossoming nipples until your cunny was even more sticky. his large digits scissoring inside of your walls stretching and coaxing any leftover cum out of you. he loved keeping you full with him, tugging your used panties up, letting them soil and stick to you with his cum as glue.

you pushed your face in your pillows while he teased his tip in filling your cunny up endlessly. whimpering and looking at him with begging eyes for more for just a centimeter more just a little bit more inside. falling asleep full of his cum and clutching your bear while he wrapped you into him.

he’d woken up a few times with your hands or your mouth teasing his cock to life. you’d grown so obsessed with being full of him you couldn’t keep your hands off of him. he’d made you into just the girl he wanted. his little dad cock obsessed daughter constantly whining in his ear to have fucking with her dad.

sometime in the night before church you rolled over straddling your dad and pushing his half hard cock in your sticky cunny. whining as you tried to take it all bouncing stupidly and sloppily trying to satisfy the urges. lifting your sleeping dad’s hand to rub your clitty. he woke up to the most perfect sight, concentrating daughter trying to take dad’s cock while he slept using him for her craving.

he couldn’t be more proud.

he’d been sending jaehyun all the files. the unending videos of your twisted up face crying while you got cock forced inside of you. jaehyun was drinking them up, telling johnny how lucky he was to have such a perfect princess. jaehyun didn’t tell johnny how bad he wanted a taste, how much he wanted to take advantage of her naivety again.

you felt excited for church that morning, bubbling to tell dr. jung about your week of dad and daughter time. while your mom had choir and your dad was greeting people you slipped away searching for dr. jung.

“darling,” you turn your head smile widening when you see him standing in the doorway of a classroom.

“dr. jung,” you skip to him, wrapping him in a big hug.

“aren’t you happy today, wanna tell me all about it,” he grinned, stepping aside to let you in the sunday school room. he shut the door behind you clicking the lock but it went unnoticed.

“oh my goodness dr. jung. i had so much fucking with dad, we did it all over even in mom’s bed,” you giggled bouncing on your toes.

“really? that sounds like lots of fun, did you get dad’s cock after church? your mom said you weren’t feeling good so you stayed home that evening.”

“it was just pretend. i had dad’s cock in me all day. at first it kinda hurt and stung in my cunny,” you say rubbing a hand over your sticky cum filled panties. your dad already giving you something to feel during sunday school. “then it felt so good like i was gonna explode.”

“yeah, glad your cunny felt good. dad been fucking you a lot? daughters need to have lots of dad cock,” he tells you walking closer to you backing you into the desk.

“unhuh, we have fucking at least twice but sometimes more. dad even taught me how to have cum by myself,” you grin, your butt pushing into the table.

“oh wow, aren’t you special,” he smiles at you, bringing a hand to slip under your skirt. “can you show me?”

“unhuh, do you need to make sure i’m doing it right?” he nods lifting you to sit on the desk your dress riding up.

“i can help make sure you are doing it just right to get the cum out,” he smiles at you. you nod, bending your knees exposing your panties. he squats down in front of you getting face to face with your panties.

“did dad stuff you already?” he grins, rubbing a finger over your damp panties.

“unhuh, every morning after cunny medicine,” thinking back to this morning your dad making you cum in no time while your mom took a shower.

“that’s a good girl, you take his dad cock good don’t you?” you nod his finger rubbing your clitty making your toes curl. “show me how you touch your cunny.”

“i just,” you pause, catching your breath, bringing your hand over your panties. you push over your clitty feeling the sticky cum squish against you. moving your hand you rub fast up and down over your clitty. “unnnh, like this.”

“yeah?” he peaks up at you, your lip trapped between your teeth as you concentrate. “let me show you a better way.”

“there’s more ways,” you whimper, hand still mashing hard and fast feeling your tummy warm.

“oh darling, there’s an unlimited number of ways to touch your cunny.” he smiles up at you. “first put your fingers in your panties.”

“like this?” you move your hand sliding them inside the waistband fingertips touching the white stuff.

“just like that, why don’t i take these off for you so i can see just what you’re doing,” his voice is gentle as his large hands slide over your legs tugging your soiled panties down your legs before shoving them in his pocket. “such a pretty cunny. i can tell dad’s been using it a lot.”

“wish dad could keep his cock in me all day and night,” you pout.

“wouldn’t that be fun,” he smirks. “see your clitty.”

“unhuh,” you nod staring between your legs at the swollen nub.

“right there is gonna feel extra good so take one of your little fingers and curl it on your clitty,” he instructs. you stare down, using your pointer to stroke your bundle of nerves making you hiss.

“oh, dr. jung,” you whimper.

“see, feels so good. keep doing that it will help your cunny get all slick,” he smiles, leaning closer his hands spreading your thighs.

“so tickly,” you mumble, your hips jerking with each rub over your clitty. you don’t see mark in the window of the door. the teenage boy looming, watching you in earnest defiling yourself for dr. jung. his cock growing in his slacks for the fifth time this week because of you.

“atta girl, can see all your cunny juice coming out,” he confirms, lowering his glasses to peak over the rims.

“feel good, close to cum,” babbling as you squirm on the desk.

“not yet, bring your fingers to your cunny hole,” he tells you and you do after another good rub on your clitty. small fingers starting to prune in the wetness when you touch over your hole.

“here?”

“perfect, now want you to put a finger inside your cunny,” he says. your slow, softly pushing your pointer finger inside of your slippery cunny.

“feels funny,” you giggle.

“yeah? go in and out like when dad puts his cock in your cunny.” you follow his lead, moving your tiny finger in and out your hips wiggling again.

“more,” you whimper.

“add another finger.” you whine, head falling back when you push your middle finger in beside your digit. feeling full already as your hips buck into your hand.

“mark, just the guy i was looking for,” johnny smiles, seeing mark staring in the window of a sunday school room.

“oh uh, fuck,” he mumbles under he breath turning to johnny and he can’t hide the bulge in his khakis. “hi mr. suh.”

“you okay,” johnny smiles knowingly staring at the large mound in the boys pants.

“uh yeah, i uh, oh this,” he stammers, looking everywhere but johnny’s face.

“what’s going on? did you watch a dirty movie,” johnny grins, walking closer to mark. the boy can’t speak only pointing to the glass for johnny.

“hmm.” johnny leaning in his jaw growing slack his eyes bulging when he sees what mark was so enamored with. “oh my fucking god.”

“mr. suh,” mark sounded shocked hearing the curse words in the house of god ona. sunday morning. johnny got closer, pressing his face to the window jiggling the doorknob.

“fucker locked it,” he groans, slamming his head on the glass.

“i uh, i have my keys,” mark pipes up reaching into his pocket digging out the jingling metal.

“oh i could kiss you, gimme,” johnny grabs for the keys pushing them into the lock opening the door and dragging mark in despite his protests.

“oh, dad,” you whimper, your fingers squelching in your cunny. “dr. jung is teaching me.” your words are garbled on your own spit, dr. jung turned to look at his friend and the pastor's son with a cheeky grin.

“i see that,” he tries to sound sweet and soft and loving but he never told jaehyun he could do this. they’d never even spoken about him being alone with her. suddenly he was overwhelmed with anger, he wanted to grab his friend by the collar and beat the shit out of him, but wouldn’t that ruin the illusion?

“markkk,” you whine, curling your fingers inside of you. the boys face is beat red his eyes can’t move from the motion of your fingers and the wet cunt in his face.

“uh, hey,” he chokes.

“dad, come see,” you whimper, eyes dazed, fingers soaked as you reach for him with your other hand. he can’t break the illusion he will deal with his friend later, walking over to you soothing his features as he stands beside you. his large hand smoothing over your back as he lifts your skirt to get a good look.

“so pretty, baby, fingers feel good don’t they?”

“unhuh, dr. jung said he can show me a better way to touch my cunny,” you mewl, leaning onto your dad’s shoulder.

“is that right,” he scowls at jaehyun his glasses low as he watches johnny’s daughter stuff them in her cunny.

“feels really good, like your fingers better though,” you admit. mark is so flabbergasted, so completely taken aback by the entire situation like some crude fantasy. he was so uncomfortable and so nauseous but so aroused his cock harder than ever.

“mark, why don’t you come get a good look,” dr. jung suggests, turning to wink at him. mark’s mouth is dry but he’s a good boy and does as he’s told slimming over to the crowd forming around his crush.

“do you touch pretty girl’s like this?” mark shakes his head. he’d never do such a dirty thing, especially not before marriage. johnny feels his anger melting into arousal at the idea of corrupting the cute boy who’s cock gets hard with a glimpse of his daughter’s thigh.

“don’t you have a crush on her? i can see how you watch her during worship,” johnny adds, his lip twitching into a grin.

“i uh,” he stammers looking between the eyes of the men in front of him before staring right into yours. soft fragile girl who isn’t really any of those things but he still finds his heart speeding up at her dazed smile. “unhuh.”

“why don’t you touch her like a grown up since you have grown up feeling for her,” jaehyun grins, reaching for mark’s thigh tugging him closer. mark trips stumbling over his feet, his hands landing around your thighs on the table. your small hand still making soft circles on your clitty, his breath hot in your face.

“would you like that baby? do you want mark to touch your cunny?” you nod your head against your dad’s big shoulder looking at mark with need in your eyes.

“i don’t think, i’ve never. it wouldn’t be,” mark fumbles with excuses as dr. jung stands up beside him. he grins to johnny their friendship easily mended as he grabs mark’s wrist forcing it closer and closer to the warm wet.

“please mark, want you to touch me,” you whimper, egging him on. his calloused fingers sliding against yours, the feeling something he’d never get over. warm wet slick, soft fleshy mound sliding under his fingers, he bites his lip eyes down watching his hand move on its own.

“oh god,” he groans, your sticky fingers guiding him now. moving them to touch the swollen bump making your whine as your toes curl.

“that’s her clit,” jaehyun grins, whispering down mark’s neck. mark gulps; he'd only ever seen it in a textbook and heard vulgar boys talk about it, but to feel it so soft and sweet under his fingers dragging the most melodic sounds from his dream girl.

“feels so good,” you sigh, falling into your dad’s hold, his eyes trained on mark’s inexperienced hands.

“why don’t you put one in, mark,” johnny suggests, watching mark fumble.

“here mark,” jaehyun moves mark’s hand again, pushing his knuckle so it slides into the warmth. mark groans out his hips bucking like he was inside of you fully. his middle finger surrounded by soft silky warmth completely wrapping him up.

“curl your fingers, like this,” johnny tells him making a motion with his own finger for mark.

“ohhh,” you whine, eyes closing when he rubs the special spot inside of you. he isn’t sure what he did but he wants to keep doing it. rubbing his fingertip over and over the spongy insides until you’re squirming in front of him.

“she likes it,” johnny grins to him.

“that’s her gspot. you wanna make her squirt, don't you?” dr. jung is behind mark whispering in the shelf of his ear making mark shiver.

“more,” you whine. mark isn’t sure what that means did you want it faster or harder or.

“add a finger,” johnny instructs, mark does as he’s told. pushing a second digit into you making you melt. he goes back to rubbing that spot again with both fingers.

“touch her clit, use your thumb,” dr. jung instructs.

“markkk,” you whine, your hips jerking as his thumb touches the bump again. he likes you like this, the pretty sounds, the warmth around his fingers.

“good job,” dr. jung coos in his ear. he’s like the devil on mark’s shoulder, getting him to sin more and more but mark doesn’t care. it can’t be a sin if it feels so good right?

“feels good, oh, mark,” you whimper, fingers digging into the desk as your tummy heats up. mark’s cock is impossibly hard in his khakis. he thinks that everytime he sees you but it really is this time.

“go faster mark, she can take it. my baby likes it like that,” johnny grins, tapping his fingers over your chin. mark flicks his wrist faster chasing something he’s only heard about.

“unhuh, like it, oh dad.” you’re so close to spilling all over mark’s hand. “want kiss.” mark’s head flicks up thinking you’re talking to him but then he sees your dad lean in, flicking his tongue into your delicate mouth. mark could cum in his pants, why did something so sick and twisted have to be so hot.

“atta boy, mark, gonna make a pretty girl cum for the first time,” dr. jung has his hands on mark’s waist, his fingers creeping closer to the boy’s bulge pushing mark back into his own.

your whimpering gets louder despite the fat tongue sliding against your teeth. hips jerking to meet his clumsy wrist he can’t decide what to look at.

“she’s close, get ready,” dr. jung grips mark’s bulge the boy doubling over with a shriek as you cum. his face right in the line of fire as you spray a hot clear stream. moaning into your dad’s mouth as mark sneaks his open hoping for a little taste of what he’s heard about.

“good girl,” johnny coos, looking down at mark. the boy’s chin is sticky and his bulge damp in jaehyun’s hand.

“holy cow,” mark mumbles, watching and feeling your walls contract around his finger. your squirming and whining mark still moving his hand inside of you not knowing when to stop until johnny smacks his hand. his digits dripping in nectar and he can’t help but taste the forbidden fruit, sucking his fingers lewdly into his mouth moaning at the sweet pure taste.

“they learn so fast,” dr. jung grins petting mark’s hair.

“it’s natural instinct,” johnny replies, soothing his own hand over your face.

“mark it’s gonna be hard for you to stand in front of the congregation with your problem,” dr. jung says, pushing his glasses up on his nose, eyeing mark’s cock.

“i’ll just run to the bathroom real quick i uh, thanks,” he feels awkward suddenly the guilt falling over him.

“nonsense, you can take care of mark can’t you baby? you know how to help boy’s get the cum out don’t you?” johnny grins at you.

“unhuh, wanna help, can i mark,” you pout at him eyes glassy. he’s caught between the angel and devil on his shoulder but you look like an angel so it must be fine.

��let dad help you down,” johnny lifts you with ease, helping you stand on shaky legs. the pool you left on the desk is fully visible now.

“can i taste it?” you look up at him big eyes pleading and he just stands stupidly nodding. you grin dropping to your knees way too familiar with this act but mark can deconstruct that later.

“she’s been practicing with buckles lately,” johnny grins, brushing your hair back standing face to face with mark. his sweet daughter between them sliding the belt from the loop just like she’s practiced. grinning silly when she unbuttons his pants.

“wow,” you smile his cock hanging in your face. he’s skinny and shorter than your dad but it suits his frame, long hair poking around the base like a flower.

“what a nice cock, mark. i really should get your dad and you in for an appointment,” dr. jung grins. he comes closer standing behind mark sandwiching him between johnny.

“i- uh, thanks,” he gulps, looking down again just as your small hand wraps around his cock. he’d dreamed about this fantasized about you touching him then he prayed about it the cycle repeating often.

“really pretty, i like it, don’t you dad?” you look up at your dad. he grins down at you, knuckles rubbing your cheek.

“pretty cock for my pretty girl,” he coos, making your tummy heat again. “show mark how good you can take cock, i bet you can take him all the way down.”

“gonna try,” determined face as you come close kissing the tip making him jump but dr. jung holds him. large arms keeping him in place rubbing his bulge into mark’s butt making everything more intense.

“oh god,” he cries as you latch your mouth around him. lips not stinging as they stretch around him slowly lowering your head as you hollow your cheeks. mark hadn’t said the lord’s name in vain in his whole life but he couldn’t help it.

“feels good?” dr. jung coos from behind, his fingers dancing higher on mark’s chest.

“so, oh,” he groans, as you start moving faster, swirling your tongue around him. dr. jung grins over mark’s shoulder, eyes meeting with johnny’s the unspoken discussion taking place. nodding to jaehyun and he knows what johnny is asking so he moves his fingers rubbing the tips over mark’s nipples poking under his shirt.

“oh my god,” he bucks in dr. jung’s touch his cock hitting your throat just like you like it. “oh i’m oh.”

“gonna cum?” mark squeezes his eyes trying to hold back but the words fill his head with yucky things he can’t help it.

“unhu,” he pants, trying to pull out but all three of you keep him in place. mr. suh’s sickly grin, mouth dripping filth, dr. jung twisting his nipples, and you, sweet precious girl sucking his cock like it’s your job. bobbing your head sloppy sucking sounds coming from below him.

“she likes it when you cum in her mouth,” dr. jung grins.

“i can’t, i’m- i’m sorry,” the boy whines, squirming in dr. jung’s grip.

“gonna cum down my daughter’s throat?”

“fff,” he hisses, too scared to curse. his hips jerking as he fills up your mouth with hot white. you moan around him, he tastes so different bitter and salty but you like it. collecting every single spurt on your tongue and letting it slide down your throat.

“atta boy,” dr. jung purrs, his hands lowering to mark’s hips helping him pull away from your eager hand.

“felt good huh?” johnny smirks, his hands brushing through your hair. mark looks down, sweet innocent smile on your soft lips licking over them as you look back at him.

“it’s so, oh god,” mark moans, wiggling from dr. jung’s hold but he’s too weak.

“mark it’s normal don’t be scared,” the doctor confirms, hands gripping mark’s softening cock to help tuck him back into his khakis.

“you liked it didn’t you, baby?” your dad looks down at you and you nod.

“mark your boy cock tastes really good, fits in my mouth just right,” you grin, taking your dad’s hand to stand up.

“i-“ church bells interrupt him signaling sunday school in less than five minutes.

“looks like you two need to get to your class,” your dad smiles, fixing your clothes and smoothing them down over you.

“cmon mark,” you grin, his cum is probably still in your teeth he thinks. you take his hand dragging him out of the classroom.

“sweet kids,” dr. jung says.

“don’t touch her without me ever again.”

“just thought she could use a private session,” dr. jung grins at his friend.

“i would never do that to your girl. don’t ever do it again.” jaehyun knows he’s serious, but he didn’t mean any harm. he just can’t help being a little perverted. how is it wrong to help her out with something even if they’re all alone? it wasn’t like he fucked her yet.

“i’m leaving her mom.”

“really? she isn’t in on it?”

“god no, that prude bitch, even if she was, I don't think i’d want to keep her around,” he moans, rubbing his temples.

“let me know if you need help moving.”

“i won’t.” johnny is curt walking out leaving his friend in the filthy room to clean up the mess.

jaehyun doesn’t see the issue. he’d let johnny play with his daughter all the time but suddenly he was all righteous, acting like he wasn’t doing an equally terrible thing. he’d even let johnny be there when he took his girl’s virginity it’s the least johnny could do was let jaehyun teach her a few things.

jaehyun slinked to his familiar pew sitting between his wife and daughter, their hands joining over his crotch. they always knew just what to do, helping the man of the house. he sat back and listened as mark’s father spoke his words filling his head not with good dutiful things but vile disgusting thoughts.

bending his daughter over the pew in the middle of service letting everyone get a glimpse of his good girl just to prove a point to johnny. he knew most of the attendees were just as sick as he was, they were his patients after all. the family behind him with their way too old for adoption children sitting snugly between them but jaehyun knew the man was a cuck watching his boys fuck their mom.

or the women two rows down, her sweet stepdaughters came weekly with their mom. he was working on teaching her how to make her girls squirt. the dad too old and stupid to care. maybe the head deacon his warm smile hiding his sick obsession with his sons taking their teen cocks in his slimy old mouth with greed.

not to mention the pastor himself, mark’s own father coming to jaehyun when he needed some extra relief. he didn’t dabble with his own boys but found plenty of solace in jaehyun’s hands particularly in haechan’s. his clerical collar still on while he pushed his cock between plush thighs hitting haechan’s boy clitty. he said it didn’t count if there wasn’t penetration. mark had not a single clue to his own fathers sick fantasies, what he confessed to jaehyun like he was his bishop. father taeyong moaning his son’s name as he came cock never going soft until three orgasms later.

jaehyun stared at him, his soft inviting smile, his words of wisdom soothing guilty consciences filling the room. he looked to you, the side of your head on the row in front of him laying against your dad’s shoulder. you wouldn’t even have him if it wasn’t for jaehyun. johnny should be thanking jaehyun for helping him, for teaching him the proper way to secure his own daughter. if only you knew the lengths your dad went to.

as the days passed you fell deeper into a stupor, the only thing on your mind was your dad. you couldn’t focus properly on your online classes or your reading. you spent your days warming his cock in your cunny whimpering as you held his chest, his arms wrapped around you typing at his keyboard occasionally bouncing his knee jolting you into consciousness.

and your mother, gosh she seemed to be worse by the passing days. her agitating voice constantly nitpicking each and everything. you couldn’t take much more. the only solace was in the thick cock of your father. pouting to him when she hurt your feelings or smacked your hand in anger. he cooed at you soothing your face pressing his waiting bulge into your tummy.

you couldn’t help yourself tugging his shorts down while he napped beside you mouth watering as his cock slowly appeared. your greedy fingers taking his limp cock in your hands mouthing over it swirling it to life as he snored lightly. you knew your mom would be home soon but you needed just one more fucking before she ruined your day.

squaring over your dad poking him into your slippery hole sliding down with ease. you’d grown so used to it the full feeling, the warmth in your tummy as it bulged with him. small hands pushing on his chest as you clumsily bounced craving the release he so often gave you.

“baby,” he groans, hands sliding over your hips as you whimper lip tight between your teeth.

“needed you,” you whine, hips bouncing against his.

“love waking up to this,” he grins.

“cunny got so sticky on my legs and your cock was just talking to me,” you whimper.

“yeah? what did it say?”

“said it needed,” you pause his cock touching your sweet spot inside. “needed touches.”

“you’re such a good helper,” he grins, looking down at your thighs. concern hitting him for a second until he realizes, red stains. your period. some people would be grossed out but johnny found himself bucking his hips into you. did you even know you were bleeding yet?

“feels so good, cunny feels good,” you babble, head lolling as you keep bouncing on him. god it gave him flashbacks, his cock streaking red when he took your virginity just a few weeks ago. small red circle staining your pissed in sheets, he saved them folding them just so the stains were outward as he shoved it into a keepsake bag. he knew it was fucked but he loved the visual proof.

“dad’s cock needed so many touches,” he moans, rolling you over in one motion. your head pushed against the pillows of your bed, his hips pistoning into yours just like you liked it. hard and rough and fast and loud.

“dad, more please more,” you beg, hand coming between you curling against your clit just like dr. jung taught you.

“feels so warm baby, my god,” he groans, eyes looking down to the large streak of blood covering his cock. he feels light headed just like when he took your virginity.

“love dad fucking my cunny,” you mutter, not noticing the start of your period sliming over your dad’s cock.

“fuck.” he grunts, you’d gotten a lot better at dirty talk and it sent him into a tailspin. but the view of your sheets blossoming red along with his cock set him off. lifting your hips and fucking into you hard. your chin shoved down into your chest as he fucked you, your eyes crossing as his tip hit your lowered cervix.

“in my tummy,” you whine, the bump forming and disappearing with each thrust into you.

“so deep in your little tummy,” his eyes focused on where you meet the bulge is a bonus. pretty sticky red strings painting his cock, different designs everytime he pulls out.

“love it dad. love your cock,” your finger sliding in your reddish slick around your clitty.

“so fucking wet, fuck, dad’s gonna cum,” he groans, he knows its way too fast but it’s all of these things hitting him at once. you taking him while he slept, his cock streaking red, the lewd words, he couldn’t help himself.

“put it in my cunny,” you moan, reaching your other hand out for him. his hips stutter with a deep moan, his cum shooting thick white inside of. “oh dad can feel it, can feel your cock pumping your cum in my cunny.”

“shit,” he can’t handle you. his balls tight as he starts moving again mixing his cum with your blood making the prettiest pink slick coat him.

“oh dad, oh dad,” you chant, eyes closing again. he moves his hands pinching your tiny nipples between his fingers making you cry out hips bucking against him as he spirals deeper into overstimulation.

“fuck, baby, so fucking pretty making a mess on dad’s cock,” he rolls his hips hitting the sweet spot in your cunny swollen and coated in blood.

“cumming dad, cumming,” you whimper, voice going silent as your head twists back hips jerking as your sunny flutters around him. the feeling spreading down your shaky legs, hand stalled on your clitty as you cum. warmth pouring over you like a waterfall as his hips keep swiveling in you.

“holy fuck,” he groans, his cock coated in slimy fluids. “so fucking good for dad.” he can’t stop watching your swollen cunny begging to be fucked through your period ease all the tension with your dad’s help.

“dad want cock all the time,” you babble, rubbing your hand over your face swiping your drool.

“mmm, that’s a good thing baby, my girl should be fucked full of dad’s cock whenever she wants,” he grins. slowly sliding his cock out of you, waiting for the leakage to start.

“wanna go away with you dad, want you,” you whine, reaching a hand to tug his wrist.

“yeah, when do you wanna leave with dad? we can go anywhere you want,” he smiles. lifting your legs up to watch the pinkish fluid bubble out of your swollen hole.

“wanna go nowwww,” you pout wiggling in his hold making the cum spill.

“silly girl, how about tomorrow? we can pack up during the day and be gone before she comes home,” he peaks over your leg with a grin.

“really really? please can we,” excitement swirling in your tummy, as he rests your hips back on the bed you feel his cum sliding over your butt.

“as long as you’re sure baby, you want to be with dad forever?” you holdout your pinky and he takes it grinning at you.

“forever and ever with dad,” you smile as he twists his with yours.

“i love you so much baby, so glad i got to have you,” he leans in kissing your cheeks.

“oh no dad you’re bleeding,” you announce pointing to his red cock.

“baby just your period dad’s okay,” he nods looking down at his cock still streaked with you.

“that’s so grosssss i’m sorry,” you pout, hiding your face.

“nooooo dad likes everything about you. even if your cunny gets all red and bloody dad still loves you. dad still loves fucking you no matter what,” he confirms.

“but it’s icky.”

“nuhuh, and it makes you feel good doesn’t it? helps all your cunny muscles relax and get all the yucky stuff out,” his hands rub softly over your thighs melting your worries.

“really?”

“unhuh, dad’s cock helps most of all when little girls get their monthly. if your tummy starts to hurt just come to dad okay,” you nod, looking down at the mess you’d unknowingly made. “cmon dad will help wash you off before mom comes home. after cunny inspection you can decide where we go.”

the night isn’t too bad. your mom busy, distracted with a deadline telling you that she will be gone even longer tomorrow which you pretend to be sad about but you just can’t wait to leave.

your dad helps you relax all your cunny muscles before bed, his large fingers soothing your sticky red cunny. you never knew something could help the pain like your dad could. he made everything better. the moment he was in your life it was like a whole new world appeared.

you felt so sneaky getting up and helping your dad pack up all the trinkets in your room. you decided to leave most of your books only picking a few of your favorites. when you finished a box he taped it all up and took it to his car while you sorted more stuff. you’d never moved before but it felt really exciting getting to go to a brand new place.

you picked your favorite clothes, most of them bought by your dad. he patted your head softly when he came back in your room after each trip. he didn’t have much to pack, just his suitcase and a box or two. you didn’t really have much either. even though your whole world was in this house, this room.

you’d decided on the beach the same pretty blue and white house with a pool your dad said you could swim in. he said you could go on the sand and swim in the salty water even during the daytime. you felt like you could burst.

you even finished earlier than dad thought. the clock only showing 1pm when you packed the last box. you smiled hugging your dad letting him lift you and push his mouth into your hair.

“you all ready?”

“yeah yeah let’s goooo,” you grin, tugging him near the door.

“hold on i gotta make sure your mom knows we’ve gone.”

“but dad thought it was our secret?” you pout up at him.

“i know, baby, i’m not gonna say much. she just needs to know we didn’t get kidnapped or something,” he tells you.

“hmm okay,” you fake a scowl but he pushes his finger on the bend in your forehead making you giggle.

“do you want to write anything?” he offers you a pen, a simple sticky note on a large yellow envelope. you take the pen tapping it on your chin while you think before taking it to paper.

we’re leaving do not try to contact us. she doesn’t want to speak with you she has asked for my help to leave. you’ve trapped her long enough she’s an adult now so set her free.

i hope you enjoy all your alone time

pulling out of the drive and onto your street for the final time. sitting in the front seat holding your dad’s hand giggling as the house got smaller and smaller in the mirror.

you could go and do anything you wanted now and you felt love like never before. your dad was a real parent unlike your mom who really just hated you.

but dad, your dad, he was loving, caring, and so wonderful. he never made you feel stupid or small he only made you feel warm and gooey. he taught you so many things like pinky promises and how to order food at a restaurant, he let you hold his hand and dance you’d never been able to dance around your mom. he showed you about girl and boy parts and even helped get all your peepee out. he made you feel good and touched you lots on your privates. you’d never felt so much love and affection from anyone. your dad was made just for you.

pt 1 ⇢ our secret, right?

pt 2 ⇢ practice makes perfect

©️tddyhyck

taglist // @bunnybabylolll @hey-hey-heybitch @kooookie @tacitanecdote @haesunlover2 @richslimesarete @nn20x @squeezingmycheese @cicicoups @chwrrywonu

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windyremedy · 5 hours ago

Text

goodnight

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

scenario: doing the tiktok trend with your ex-husband might just rekindle everything.

not even two rings goes by before you heard the gruff voice of your once husband.

“hello?” he asked rather calmly.

you shuffled nervously, heart beating in a familiar drum as if you two were in highschool again.

“hi umm what are you doing.” you asked stalling as you bit your lip in anxiousness.

immediately he shot a multitude of questions, tone getting increasingly more worried by the second.

“huh? is there anything wrong? what’s happening? are the kids okay? are you okay?”

honestly if what you picked up was right, you could’ve sworn you heard him getting ready to put on his hero gear.

“no, no— nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to tell you something.” you murmured which he nodded to even though you couldn’t see.

“okay sweeth— sorry habit, what is it?”

from your peripheral vision you could see your daughter holding back her laughter. phone recording the interaction that’s taking place as her other hand held her mouth from bursting.

“I just wanted to tell you goodnight.” you said softly.

a long pause followed.

“hello? did you hear me?”

…

“katsuki?”

“huh? w—what yeah sorry, I heard you but did you mean to call me?” he spoke unusually stumbling over his words.

“yes?”

then a relaxed laugh came, well as relaxed as a spiked up heart could conjure anyway.

“can I ask why?”

“why not?” you replied back with a question for his question.

“I mean why are you telling me goodnight? it’s been almost five years just another month or two I’m pretty sure.”

you sat there trying to think of what you can use as an excuse. even though you’re using your daughters plan as the reason when you wanted to call the person you missed so much anyway but had not guts to.

“can’t I tell the father of my children to have a good rest?” you reasoned coyly.

another amused chuckle echoed from the phone’s speaker, that snark of yours was still there it seemed.

“no, no— I guess not.” he noted sitting even more upright as all tiredness washed away just from hearing you again.

“well, that’s it.” you said grimacing as the exchange neared its end.

“alright.” he answered but didn’t end the call yet either.

“uh huh.”

“yep.”

“okay bye.”

“see you.”

then the call dropped.

©windyremedy

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #remfics☁️

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starmapz · 3 days ago

Note

Can u please pretty please with a cherry on top 🍒give us a snippet of chap 18 wyk

Also hope your doing well ❤️

a lil teaser of (unedited) wyk ch18 👀 tysm, i hope you're doing well, too <33

He nods slowly, rubbing at his eyes. “Pisses me off so fuckin’ much,” he hisses under his breath. “She fucking left!” He explodes suddenly, anger directed at no one in particular, though his hand collides with a tree as he flails it through the air. “Fuck!” He hisses, staring down at his hand to see the damage. Scrapes fall across his knuckles haphazardly where his hand collided with the bark, but not hard enough to draw blood.

He shakes his hand, but the pain only serves to piss him off more.

“Are you o-”

“She didn’t fucking answer!” He continues to snarl, his anger only rising as his hand now throbs with pain that he wants to write off as mild, but- “Christ, what the fuck?” He growls, staring down at his hand in the glow of a streetlight overhead. He flexes his digits twice, but he still doesn’t bleed.

“Are you okay, um- Ryo?”

His eyes flicker briefly up to you, unable to read what he’s thinking as you address him by his first name. He doesn’t press the issue much longer, fixated on his hand. “Hit it harder than I thought,” he mutters, inadvertently answering your question.

You take his hand, gently turning it towards the orange glow of the overhead lamp. No blood is a relief, just a few scrapes rubbing his skin raw, but he must have hit it hard based on the way his skin is beginning to shift to a dull purple.

“It really jumped out and bit you, huh?” You murmur, mostly to yourself in a mildly teasing manner. Sukuna fixes you with a glare, but the tension that’s been making the veins in his forearms pop slowly begins to dissipate. At the realization that his frustration towards your teasing is quelling his anger towards the world and himself, you double down. “Need me to kiss it better?” You tease, doing your best to hide your giggles.

Sukuna’s stare intensifies, and for once he’s grateful to be surrounded by darkness, because now he’s pissed for an entirely different reason. He’s blushing.

Fiercely.

He’s never been so happy to be hidden by the blanket of the night as he is right now, blushing like a goddamn teenager.

Over some stupid teasing.

Teasing that shouldn’t- doesn’t- mean anything.

His anger is completely forgotten as he wrenches his hand from your hold, shaking it in an attempt to rid himself of the pain while he averts his gaze. He simmers in his newfound frustration while you burst into laughter at his side.

“It really came out of nowhere, didn’t it?” You manage to get out between your giggles, clutching at your stomach. He pins you with a furious side eye, but it doesn’t deter you. As your laughter slowly begins to die down, you wave your hand nonchalantly through the air. “No, I get it. It was a really small tree.”

“Are you done?” He grumbles, crimson eyes flickering across your features, which are now seemingly brighter than the glow of the light above. He swears he hasn’t seen you this happy in ages and for once, he can’t find it in himself to remain irritated with you. He sighs, resuming his steady pace down the path.

#trish answers #spymaster03 #starmapz what you know ask #starmapz what you know spoilers #spoilers #sukuna #sukuna x reader

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ellswritings · 3 days ago

Text

In My Corner

(Part 1), (Part 2), (Part 3), Part 4

CM Punk/Phil Brooks x reader

Seth Rollins/Colby Lopez x reader

TW: The usual angst, lots of confrontation, fluff, Damian and Rhea being flirty, this is over 14k words, but it’s a cute and a very important chapter.

Tags: @reebs-luvs-rhodes-and-wrestling , @scream4mami

✧･ﾟ:*ᴵ’ᵐ ᵇᵉᵃᵘ ᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)*:･ﾟ✧*

“I’m walking in right now, Joe,” Y/N tells her best friend, phone smooshed against her face as she carries her duffle bag into the arena with her. It was an unusual night where she would be performing on Monday Night Raw at the request of Adam Pearce. Paul Levesque had informed her of a new rivalry angle between her and Nia Jax who is still currently signed under the red brand.

Y/N takes pride as an actively defending champion. No matter who it is, or whatever brand they perform on, she’s open to the challenge. It also gives her more opportunities to appear on both brands which is even better exposure. It’s always been her dream to be the face of WWE so she’s not afraid to put in the work to do it.

“You know he’s gon’ be there tonight, right?” Joe reminds her warily. “And after Friday night, I dunno how comfortable I am lettin’ you be near him.”

“Joe, it’s just a match near the end of the show,” Y/N tries to calm him down. “I can just stay with Colby the whole night and it’ll be fine.”

“I just don’t understand why you gotta have a match every week,” he huffs playfully, wishing she would spend more time relaxing. Her schedule would stress caffeine out. “You could be out on the lake with me, Galina, and the kids.”

“Okay, first of all,” Y/N laughs loudly, “Absolutley not. Galina doesn’t get to see you much as it is so I would never intrude on a family outing. Second of all, I don’t mind having frequent matches. It keeps me sharp, reminds me that I can always learn more.”

Joe sighs, “I know. Just bugs me that you never take time off.”

“I don’t have anyone to take time off for,” Y/N says nonchalantly as she walks inside the building. She smiles, sending waves to some of the people she knows as she heads to Pearce’s office. “My parents are always doin’ some cool vacation stuff with their retirement money and my siblings are off doing their own thing. I swear we meet up for Christmas and Easter and that’s about it. I’m pretty sure the last time I did thanksgiving at home was the year of my debut.”

“That’s what I’m saying though,” he says exasperatedly. “Even if it’s not for your biological family, you can always take time to hang out with us.”

“If it was a whole family affair and the entire Anoa’i, Fatu bloodline was there, I’d go,” she tells him. “But this is a small family thing for your wife and kids. Just enjoy it and stop worrying about me.”

“When you gonna get it through that thick head I’m always worried ‘bout you,” Joe’s voice softens, surprising her with how genuine he sounds. “You my ride or die, Y/N/N. No matter what. You my wing woman, my right hand. No matter how hard Colby tries to get you to switch sides,” he adds the last part smugly.

Y/N rolls her eyes, practically hearing the smirk on his face. “If there’s one thing I can say about myself is that I’m one loyal SOB,” she grins even though he can’t see her. “I love Colbs, but my brothers come first.”

Joe nods, his heart warming. “Thas my girl.”

Y/N rounds the corner, locating the door with Pearce’s name plate on it. “Ight, well I gotta go. I have a quick meeting with Pearce before the show starts. I’ll talk to you later, Chief.”

“Okay.” Joe responds, but as Y/N goes to hang up, his voice stops her. “But Y/N… just promise me one thing.”

“What’s up?”

There’s a brief pause, “Don’t let him talk on you like that. ‘Cause if he does, I’ll send Josh out there faster than he can say his own damn name.”

Y/N looks down at her Air Force ones, forcing herself to not relive what was said that Friday night. She shakes her head, jaw ticking, “Trust me, if he wants to talk shit, he’ll be saying it to my face this time.”

“Good,” Joe nods, satisfied with her answer. “Okay, well have a good show, alright? Go kick my cousin's ass.”

“Will do,” she adjusts her bag strap. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And with one click the call ends. Without wasting much more time she finally knocks on Adam’s door. She waits maybe two seconds before the man emerges with a warm smile on his face. “Y/N, please, come in, come in.” He opens the door wider for her, allowing her to take a step inside. Once she’s comfortably situated in the office, he closes the door behind them.

There are papers and multiple different documents places in an organized fashion on his desk. Y/N takes a seat, smiling softly when she notices the amount of pictures adorning Adam’s desk. He’s always been a very personable guy, not afraid to show his love for the people in his life. He’s also a fantastic general manager, one she’s missed working with since being on SmackDown.

Adam rounds his desk, taking a seat in his own chair. “First off, I just want to say thank you for doing this on such short notice,” he says gratefully. “We were planning on doing a segment with her and Becky tonight, but the writers thought this would be a nice little Easter egg to throw in for a future feud.”

“Yeah, no worries,” Y/N waves him off. “Lina and I got a chance to go over our bumps a few times over the weekend at the performance center so it should go as planned.”

“I’m not worried,” Adam smiles. “I trust ya. I’m sure you and Lina will have the match of the night.”

“I sure hope so,” Y/N agrees with a light laugh.

“All right, well, you are more than welcome to leave your things in the women’s locker room,” Adam tells her. “Or if there’s somewhere else you’d feel more comfortable, feel free to go wherever.” Y/N nods as he stands, reorganizing some papers. He smooths over his blazer, “So after we wrap here, production’s gonna get a live shot of you walking out of this office. Just a little beat to show your arrival for the night — nothing long, just enough to set the tone and let the crowd pop.”

Y/N nods, already mentally timing the beat between the office door opening and the moment she walks into frame. “Got it.”

“From there,” he continues, grabbing a clipboard from his desk, “you’ll take the usual route — head down the main hallway, wave to a few crew members, and we’ll plant some familiar faces along the way.”

He flips the clipboard around to show her a short list of names.

“Damian, Rhea, Dom — they’ll be hanging around catering. Seth’ll be near Gorilla later, so we’ll have him cross paths with you on the way. The idea is to stir the pot a bit. Nothing overt. Just enough interaction for people to start guessing.”

“Guessing what?” she grins, playing dumb.

“That you’re thinking about jumping ship. Getting friendly with Judgment Day. Cozying up with the Monday Night Messiah again. You know how it works,” Adam smirks. “We just want a bit of a reaction.”

She chuckles. “Can’t wait to see the Twitter meltdowns.”

He sets the clipboard down, his expression shifting slightly — not serious, but intentional. “And there’s one more thing I want to go over with you.”

Y/N watches him closely, sensing the shift.

“Phil’s officially signing with Raw tonight.”

There’s a pause. Just a breath. Y/N doesn’t move — not a twitch of the jaw or flick of the eyes. She’s been trained for moments like this.

Adam gives her a moment, then continues. “You don’t need to say anything. I just thought you deserved to know. I respect what you’ve built on SmackDown, and I know you and Phil have a… history. Didn’t want this to feel like it came out of nowhere.”

Y/N gives a small nod, keeping her tone even. “Thanks for the heads-up.”

He studies her face a second longer before softening again. “I just wanted you to hear it from me instead of being blindsided by it.”

Y/N could feel the meeting come to an end so she stands. She sends him a small smile and reaches forward to shake his hand. Adam holds it for an extra second longer, a genuine look in his eyes, “And Y/N, for what it’s worth… if there ever comes a point where you want to call Raw home again, there’s always a top spot for you. You’ve earned that ten times over.”

Her heart squeezes in her chest, but she doesn’t let it show. “I appreciate that, Adam. Really.”

He opens the door slightly, a cue that her live cue is coming. A stagehand just beyond the frame gives them a two-finger countdown.

Adam gestures with a smile. “Show’s yours.”

Y/N adjusts the strap of her duffle bag and steps through the door just as the red light above the camera switches on.

The door to Adam Pearce’s office cracked open with a low creak, and within seconds, the arena reacted like someone lit a fuse. The camera caught her first — just a glimpse — before the crowd fully processed what they were seeing.

Y/N, walking cockily, ready for her match with Nia later that night, the Women’s Undisputed Championship perched perfectly on her shoulder like it was born there. Her black and gold trimmed leather jacket covers her cropped black tank top, tight leggings accompanying the other parts of her outfit. Her duffle bag swings back into place as she rolls one shoulder, adjusting the strap without even looking.

She stepped into the hallway like she owned it. She kind of did.

What Pearce hadn't mentioned in the contract meeting — what he didn’t prep her for in that brief meeting— was the angle the Judgement day would be playing at with her.

The cameras followed her as she continued walking down the hallway. That’s when she sees them. They weren’t standing in formation. That wasn’t their style. They were draped across production crates and bathed in purple LED backlight like they’d been born out of the shadows. All three of them — Rhea Ripley, Dominik Mysterio, and Damian Priest — watching her like they already knew something she didn’t.

Rhea saw her first. A smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth, and she pushed off the crate with lazy confidence, arms folded, chains glinting in the low light. “Well, would you look at that? Look who SmackDown decided to lend us for the night.”

Y/N’s pace didn’t slow, but her smirk did creep in. “Don’t tell me you missed me already.”

“Babe,” Rhea said, voice low and smooth, “I never stop.”

There it was — easy, sharp-edged banter. Her and Demi have been tight for years outside of kayfabe, but inside the walls of WWE, nothing was off-limits. Least of all the chemistry.

Y/N’s gaze flicked to Dom next. He straightened up from his slouch and tossed her a grin. “What’s up, champ?” he said, casually adjusting the chain around his neck. “Lookin’ like a million bucks.”

“Someone’s feeling bold,” she replied, eyebrow arched. “Or maybe something else caught your attention?” She nods down to her championship belt, subtly calling him a gold digger.

Dom didn’t blink. “Nah. I just call it like I see it.”

She chuckled under her breath — okay, cute. That was fair.

But then Damian stepped forward, and everything about the energy shifted. He didn’t grin. He didn’t nod. He looked at her — eyes dragging from her boots to the curve of the belt on her shoulder, then landing on her face like he was seeing something worth burning for.

And then he said, voice just rough enough to scrape under her skin: “Didn’t think Pearce had the balls to bring in someone with your bite… even if it’s just for the night.”

Y/N’s breath caught — just barely — and she masked it with a scoff. That wasn’t in the run sheet. “You know Pearce,” she said coolly. “He plays it safe… until he doesn’t.” She shrugs, shining off her belt with a smile, “Besides, I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.”

Damian took one more step — closer than needed, just enough to force the camera to tilt up slightly to catch them both in frame. She didn’t move back. “You always look this good after business meetings,” he said, eyes flicking to her mouth, “or is this just a special occasion?”

That stopped her. Just for a second. Long enough for her to wonder if Pearce had strategically kept that part of the script vague. Long enough for her to feel it — the pull, the electricity that wasn’t part of the job. She arched a brow. “You flirting with me, Priest? Or maybe this is some sort of recruitment tactic,” she looks him up and down, lifting an eyebrow.

Damian’s smile was slow, lethal. “Why not both?”

And okay — that got her. Bold move, she thought. Definitely not in the brief.

Rhea watched the exchange with open amusement, leaning in toward Dom like they were courtside at a basketball game. “She’d look good in our colors,” Rhea murmured, not to Y/N — just loud enough for her to hear.

“Think Roman would survive that?” Dom added, grinning as he looked between them. “The champ sliding in with us?”

Y/N clicked her tongue, sharp like a warning “Careful,” she said. “The Bloodline’s got long memories. And longer reach.”

Dom held his hands up. “Hey — no disrespect. I’ve seen what Solo does to people who get too close.”

Rhea smirked. “And I’ve seen what you do to people when you’re bored. That’s why I said to them that we should find you, have a little chat.”

Y/N turned her head, pretending to study a nearby monitor just to keep the grin from fully forming. God, she loved this job.

Damian stepped back — barely — giving her enough space to breathe again. But he kept his gaze on her like a challenge left hanging in the air. “If you ever get tired of standing behind Roman’s throne,” he said, softer now, lower, “we’ve got room for more than one crown.”

Y/N’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t stand behind anyone.”

She took a step past him, not rushed, but deliberate. The camera followed her shoulder as she passed Judgment Day in full — Rhea smirking behind her, Dom mouthing something like “Daaamn,” and Damian still watching like he wasn’t done yet.

Y/N tossed one final look over her shoulder. “Tell your boss,” she said, “next time he sets the trap, he should warn me about the bait.”

Damian just chuckled, voice like thunder low on the horizon. “Who said anything about bait, princesa?”

And that — that — was when she knew. This wasn’t the end of the moment. It was just the start.

✧･ﾟ:*ᴵ’ᵐ ᵇᵉᵃᵘ ᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)*:･ﾟ✧*

The show is going extremely well. The crowd in Cleveland is one of the most reactive they’d seen in a while. Y/N had dropped her bag off with Josh, letting him take it to wherever he kept his things. She’d managed to get changed into her ring gear, earning a low whistle from Josh in the process.

It’s a newer set, black and gold to match the leather jacket from before. Normally, she’d wear red or black to demonstrate her loyalty to the Bloodline, but the stylists had insisted on a new look for the night. She’s on her own tonight, and she’s the champion, might as well look the part.

Josh couldn’t stay with her for long unfortunately. His match with Drew McIntyre was the first of the night so he had to head to Gorilla pretty much right after helping her get situated. He kissed her on the cheek softly right before taking off. Y/N had watched him with a small smile before continuing backstage. Eventually she found a relatively empty area with a monitor so she could watch his match in peace.

McIntyre has had problems with the Bloodline in Kayfabe. They had been interfering in his matches and making his life hell for the past few years. He’s been on the hunt to punish every member of the faction, having gone after Sami Zayn first. He perceived them all as an enemy.

The match has gone back and forth, favoring both men at certain points. Y/N watched carefully, picking up on certain moves she wouldn’t mind adding to her own combat set. Michael Cole and Wade Barrett’s commentary is nice comedic relief from the intensity of the match. Even though it’s all carefully choreographed, sometimes the sells look a little too real.

“You know, I’m not surprised you’re the one who managed to find the only quiet corner in the whole stadium.”

She turned just in time to see Rami Sebei walking up with that same scruffy charm and warm-eyed smile that had somehow survived a thousand promos and even more betrayals. He was already grinning like he’d caught her doing something secret.

“Rami!” she beamed, immediately scooting to one side on the production crate and patting the empty space beside her. “Come here, sit. I haven’t seen your face in forever.”

“Shocking, considering it’s my best feature,” he said dramatically, making a show of fluffing his beard as he plopped down beside her.

She snorted, nudging him with her knee. “Your best feature is your heart and we both know it.”

He raised a brow, touched a hand to his chest. “You flatter me.”

“I try. But really,” she leaned her head lightly on his shoulder for a second, “it’s good to see you.”

“You too,” he said sincerely. “I didn’t even know you were on the call sheet until like… an hour ago. Were you hiding from me?”

She smirked. “Obviously. You caught me. I changed my name, dyed my hair, and faked a new finisher just to avoid running into you again.”

“Wow. Hurtful,” he deadpanned. “After all the emotional labor I did carrying our Honorary status together.”

Y/N laughed, the sound full and easy. “Please. I was the one keeping you from throwing a mic at Roman half the time.”

“Exactly! Emotional labor.”

They both giggled, the kind of laughter that didn’t need context, the kind built on long nights, dark hallways, and sharing too many chips at catering while dodging Heyman’s wrath.

“You’re still you,” she said after a beat, smiling at him softly.

“And you’re still the younger sibling I never asked for but would absolutely throw hands over.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but her grin stayed in place. “You always say the nicest things.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “you’re kind of the only person around here who never treated me like a side character. So, yeah. I’m allowed to be biased.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder again, this time letting it rest for a moment.

“God, I missed you.”

“I missed you more.”

They stayed like that for a few beats, the quiet settling comfortably between them as Josh kicked out of a near fall on-screen. When Y/N straightened up again, she stretched her arms out in front of her with a small groan. “Can’t believe I’m actually working tonight,” she said, still watching the match. “Creative didn’t tell Lina or me until early Saturday morning. We basically lived at the PC all weekend getting everything ready.”

“Classic,” Rami said with an understanding scoff. “You’d think being a champion would earn you more notice ahead of time.”

She shrugged. “This is my eighth defense in like… a month and a half. At this point, I just show up where they tell me and pray my entrance jacket doesn’t rip mid-segment.”

“You ever just… get tired?” he asked, giving her a sideways glance. “Not just physically. I mean, all of it.”

She let out a breath, not quite a sigh. “Always. But I love it too much to stop. So the tired part doesn’t scare me.”

He nodded, thoughtful again, one arm braced on his knee as he leaned forward, watching the screen with her. McIntyre landed a punishing neckbreaker on Josh, and Y/N winced in solidarity, but didn’t look away. “I used to think that,” Rami said, tone quieter now, “about the tired part. Told myself I’d rather be exhausted doing something I love than bored out of my mind anywhere else.”

Y/N glanced at him, reading more than just nostalgia in his voice. She nudged him gently with her knee. “You miss it?”

“The Bloodline?” He tilted his head, thoughtful. “Not the chaos. Definitely not the paranoia. But…” He shrugged. “The purpose. The feeling like you’re part of something. Yeah. That I miss.”

A pause stretched between them, comfortable. “Being ‘honorary’ was a hell of a weird gig, huh?” Y/N asked, a soft laugh in her voice.

Rami smirked. “No kidding. All the responsibility, none of the family dinners.”

Y/N laughed fully at that. “Or the family drama. Although I think I got stuck with more of that than you ever did.”

“Oh, you absolutely did,” he said, grinning. “You got Roman on a leash and Solo breathing down your neck half the time. I just had to survive Jimmy’s nicknames and Jey’s side-eyes.”

“Lucky bastard.”

“I keep telling people,” he said with mock gravity. “Nobody listens.”

She elbowed him again lightly and leaned back on her hands, her boot tapping rhythmically against the side of the crate as Josh kicked out of another pin on-screen. For a moment, it felt like old times — her and Rami, hiding in plain sight backstage, stealing moments of peace in between chaos and storylines. But then his tone shifted again, a little quieter.

“You know,” he started, not looking at her, “I’ve been watching the way they’re setting you up lately.”

Y/N raised a brow. “And?”

“And… it doesn’t look like they’re keeping you Bloodline forever.”

She turned her head sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean…” He finally looked over, something gentle but serious behind his eyes. “You’re on Raw tonight. No backup. New gear. New color scheme. You just did a whole segment with Judgment Day that looked suspiciously like foreshadowing. You really think that’s just coincidence?”

Y/N’s lips parted, ready to refute him, but the words didn’t come. She frowned instead. “It’s just creative trying to stir the pot, get reactions out of the audience. Maybe even trying to start some conspiracy theories to keep WWE trending. It’s not that deep.”

Rami gave her a knowing look. “You think Pearce didn’t hand-pick that segment? I heard him on the phone last week — said he wants ‘stronger female anchors’ on Raw. Plural. Not just one-off appearances. He wants people who draw eyes, Y/N.”

She looked away, jaw tightening.

“And I know you’re smarter than to pretend you didn’t notice that your name’s on a new merch board,” he added, softer now. “Without red.”

Y/N sighed through her nose, the kind of breath that held back the truth. “I’m not leaving the Bloodline,” she said flatly. “Paul wouldn’t do that.”

Rami hesitated. “You mean Levesque?” he asked, voice more careful now. Y/N didn’t answer — not directly. But the slight tension in her jaw spoke volumes. He nodded slowly. “Paul’s not the only one calling the shots anymore, Y/N. And if the higher-ups think a certain kind of drama sells…” He trailed off, but she heard it loud and clear. If the boardroom thought her past — her history with Phil — was worth cashing in on, they wouldn’t hesitate.

“They wouldn’t,” she muttered, almost to herself.

“Wouldn’t they?” Rami replied, softer. “You know how this works.”

She did. The only way they’d move her brands entirely was if she lost the championship — and she wasn’t planning to let that happen anytime soon. That was her safety net. Her line in the sand. But even as the thought formed, a stagehand appeared around the corner.

“Y/N?” they called, politely but urgently. “Your segment with Seth is going live in five. Just a quick hallway run in before his promo with Punk”.

Y/N stood, reluctantly, brushing her palms over her thighs and adjusting the strap of her title on her shoulder. Rami stood with her, “You sure you’re good?” he asked, eyes scanning her face.

She nodded, lips tight. “Always.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Hey — whatever happens next, you’ll be fine. Bloodline or not. You’re more than that.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “You always say the right thing.”

“I’ve got a gift,” he said with a wink, stepping back.

Y/N turned to follow the friendly stagehand, every step deliberate, the sound of the crowd growing louder with each footfall. She wasn’t sure what tonight was really setting up. But for the first time… she wasn’t convinced she was the one steering the wheel anymore.

The camera glides behind her as she walks down the hall as she was instructed— slow, deliberate, almost reverent. Y/N strides through the backstage area like the queen she is. Her boots echo off the concrete, her posture unbothered and unbent. The Raw crowd roars through the walls, but in this corridor, it’s just her — black and gold gear hugging every curve, leather jacket half-shrugged off her shoulder like she couldn’t be bothered to wear it properly.

She has to fight off the smirk threatening to stretch across her face. It’s always an ego boost whenever she hears the crowd get loud for her, even if it’s just a backstage appearance. The women’s championship glistens beneath the overhead lights. Centered, heavy, confident — just like the woman wearing it.

And then — the crowd erupts.

Because ahead of her — leaning casually against a production crate like he was summoned by pure chemistry — stands Seth Rollins. Black suit. Black shirt. Gold accents. Gold aviators. And that glinting World Heavyweight Championship slung over his shoulder like a weapon made just for him.

The moment their eyes lock, it’s over. Seth’s breath catches — just for a second — because damn.

Matching.

Not planned. Not discussed. But matching perfectly. Black. Gold. Leather. Power. It hits him square in the chest. She looks like trouble wrapped in gold-plated glory. And she looks like she knows it. He pushes his glasses down his nose just far enough to see her better. And damn, she’s even more lethal up close. The sharp look in her eyes. The smirk tugging at her lips. The swagger in her walk like she’s walking toward her prey — or her next mistake.

Seth steps forward, slow and calculated, grinning like he’s already halfway in over his head. “Well, well, well…” he says, voice smooth but loaded. “Didn’t expect you to bring all that gold to my show.”

Y/N stops just short of him — toe-to-toe, eye-to-eye, not an ounce of hesitation. “It’s not your show if I’m here,” she fires back, lips twitching into something playful. “You’re just keeping it warm for me.”

The crowd — even backstage through the screens — reacts immediately. Loud. Screaming. Someone yells “OOHHHHH” off camera. Seth doesn’t blink.

He grins wider. “Careful,” he murmurs. “Say things like that, and people might start thinking you’re after my spot.”

“I can’t want something that’s already mine, Rollins,” she says, slowly tilting her head. “Just go ahead and ask your General Manager.”

He feels his jaw flex. That wasn’t in the script. Neither was the way she steps in even closer — just a whisper of space between them now. Titles practically brushing. The lights above them flicker, like even the building feels the heat building in the space between their bodies. Seth was supposed to say something else next. Something safe. Something scripted.

But he doesn’t.

Because instead, he tips his head and lets his gaze drag down — her title, her outfit, the precision of how everything matches his — and then back up. Slowly. Almost disrespectfully. “Was this little matching incident an accident?” he asks, voice softer now. “Or are you looking this good just for me?”

Y/N’s brow lifts. She’s not supposed to touch him — but the script's already in shambles. So she reaches out — slow and smooth — and straightens the lapel of his jacket. Fingers linger. Press. Brush against the gold chain at his collarbone. “I match energy,” she says, voice like velvet. “Looks like you finally brought the right one.”

The crowd explodes.

Even backstage crew watching nearby are clutching their faces like they’re watching a scandal unfold in real-time. Seth leans forward, his grin tugging at the corners like he’s holding back something way too bold for live TV. “That right?” he murmurs. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re burning the whole place down just by walking through it.”

Y/N chuckles — low, dangerous — and drags her thumb across the edge of his title this time. “Guess we’ll see who survives the fire.” Their eyes lock again — and this time, it’s longer. Hotter. The kind of moment that teeters right on the edge of something explosive. “And between you and I… I’m hoping it’s you.”

His breath catches and neither of them move. Neither of them want to. They're both fully off-script now, and they know it — but no one’s stopping them. It’s too good. It’s too real.

Seth finally pulls back just a hair — like if he doesn’t, he’s going to do something that’ll break PG. “Enjoy your little visit, sweetheart,” he says, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “But remember — you’re not the only one who knows how to steal a show.”

Y/N smirks, eyes glinting. “Good,” she says, stepping past him with one last brush of her hand along the edge of his suit jacket. “Then maybe I won’t get bored.” She walks off without a second glance.

And Seth stands there — for just a second — completely wrecked. Because he knows something just happened. Something no one planned. Something the entire arena — and probably the entire internet — is already screaming about. He laughs under his breath, shaking his head and adjusting his sunglasses again. “Damn…”

Even back at commentary, no one knows what to say about what just happened. The buzz of the crowd fills the dead silence until Michael Cole snaps out of whatever haze he and Wade were stuck in.

Cole’s voice cracks. “Uh—did it just get very warm in here?”

Wade Barrett whistles low, still watching the monitor. “I’ve seen staredowns. I’ve seen mind games. But that? That wasn’t mind games. That was—”

“Foreplay?” Cole blurts before immediately clearing his throat. “I mean uh, that was—intense. Very intense.”

Barrett leans back in his chair. “Roman Reigns has made it very clear where his loyalties lie. And his golden girl? Just got very friendly with someone Roman still considers enemy number one.”

Cole nods slowly, visibly rattled. “If this is how Y/N shows up when she’s just visiting Raw… I’m scared to see what happens if she ever decides to stay.”

Barrett chuckles darkly. “Rollins might not survive it. And honestly? We might not either.”

Y/N could feel every part of her body burning after that. She knew it wasn’t smart to go off script, but she couldn’t help it. He looked too damn good not to add a little steam to their interaction. Y/S/N and Seth have always had that banter, but they may have let Y/N and Colby slip through a bit too much. It was a lot easier than either of them would have imagined. Probably because they could easily hide behind their characters.

She could feel people’s eyes on her as she continued walking backstage. She kept her eyes forward unless someone blatantly walked up to her. She noticed a lot of people heading towards catering. It was early on enough in the night to get a quick bite without worrying about missing a cue.

Once she reached another monitor, she caught the tail end of Punk’s speech on SmackDown last Friday. She exhales, nostrils flaring as she stares at his face. That must mean he’s on next. He’s announcing where he’s officially signing.

As if on cue, the monitor comes back to life, showing Adam Pearce standing in the ring with a folder in one hand and a microphone in the other. Y/N crosses her arms over her chest, watching with a stoic look on her face.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the time for a sales pitch is over.” There’s a dramatic pause, the crowd roaring before he continues on. “After going to SmackDown and talking to Nick Aldis, and going to NXT to talk to HBK, the man I’m about to bring out here may not need an introduction, but he needs to make a decision.” A buzz of anticipation and excitement fills the room as Pearce expertly creates the build up for Phil to announce his decision to the public. “And after twenty-five years of knowing him, I’m sure he’s gonna make the right one. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the man that calls himself the ‘best in the world,’ C…M… Punk!”

That tv static pulses through the entire building, the crowd screaming loudly for him as he walks out from backstage. He’s wearing the same shirt he wore at SmackDown, just a different pair of jeans and shoes. He struts down the ramp, making sure to high five every person who sticks their hand out towards him. His smile is wide and bright as he continues to soak in every ounce of praise thrown his way. He slowly makes his way to the ring, stopping to acknowledge the audience one more time before climbing into the ring.

He shakes Pearce’s hand respectfully, the two men sharing a brief embrace before Adam hands him his microphone to allow him to make the announcement. His music fades out as the crowd begins to loudly chant his name. It’s like Friday night all over again. She didn’t blame the crowd though. It’s an exciting time. People have been chanting his name for years since he left. There was a point in time where she wanted this day to come more than anything. It’s just funny how much things change.

“I thought I was in a bit of a sullen mood, and then I come out here, and I see all these signs, and I hear all these people…” the crowd increases in volume in response to his words. He allows them to cheer, smiling at the support being thrown his way. “Truth is, I have a huge decision to make. We, if I may, have a huge decision to make.” Y/N rolls her eyes. He’s already made his decision. But he’s always been good at making people feel important, valued, even if he never planned on taking their words into consideration.

“And I’ve been thinking about it all week. And the reason I’ve been so consumed and worried about it is because I love you guys,” Punk gestures out to the crowd. “But the truth is, this town, and this building specifically, hasn’t always been kind to CM Punk.”

The people boo in response, some of them knowing the lore behind Cleveland, others being too new to wrestling to understand. But the one person in the building who knows his quarrels with this building more than anyone is Y/N L/N. In fact, she was present for most of his issues that happened here. She was the shoulder he rested his head on when the most frustrating events of his life happened.

Until the night he walked out. The night he left this building and decided he didn’t need her anymore.

“I walked back here through the hallways, there’s a lot of ghosts, ladies and gentlemen, and I’m doing my best to face ‘em head on.” Y/N wants to laugh at that. Or maybe she’s just angry at the fact the one ghost he hasn’t faced was her. That the only way he would acknowledge her presence was if he could embarrass her in front of an entire sold out arena.

“A lot of people might not know this, but I debuted in this building.” The crowd cheers. “Yeah! Was anybody there? I had Mickie James on my arm.” Once again people scream in support. “We walked down that ramp, we got into this ring, and it was so good, I went back and they said, we’re sending you to Louisville Kentucky. Have fun in OVW.”

Y/N might not have been there in person, hell, she hadn’t even had her own debut yet, but she remembered seeing it on her tv back home. She was watching it with her dad after spending an entire week at her own hometown wrestling academy that she had been performing at since she was six years old.

Little did she know that at that point she would end up right by his side only a few years later.

“And, gosh, I didn’t wanna go, but while I was there, I embraced being uncomfortable, and I learned how to love it. Exactly like when I came to the WWE for the first time, and I didn’t know what I was in for. But I embraced being uncomfortable and I learned to love it.”

His eyes never leave the camera and for a moment it feels as if he’s staring straight at her. Y/N knows he’s not, he probably doesn’t even know she’s watching, but the way his eyes bore into the lens, it feels like he knows. She curses under breath at the way her heart skips a beat at the passion in his voice. Even after all this time, hearing him talk about what he loves to do still affects her that way. It’s like a conditioned response. Even though her mind says she never wants to speak to him again, her body still remembers how it felt hearing him all those years ago.

“I triumphantly return to this town, this same building, World Heavyweight Champion! I was ready to put on a show for everybody here!” He starts pacing the ring back and forth, finally looking away from the camera and towards the cheering fans. “And, then, Randy Orton kicks me in the head backstage… and I wake up and they tell me, ‘By the way, we stripped you of the title. You couldn’t compete. You’re no longer the champion.’ And I was like ‘Cleveland!’” He raises his fist in the air, jokingly cursing the town. “Again!”

He sighs, spinning on his heels. “Was anybody here ten years ago for the story I’m about to tell?” There are scattered voices in the audience as he goes on, “I’m not gonna bore you with details ‘cause a lot of it is in my rear view mirror. I’m focused on the future. I’m focused on the now. I’m focused on everybody here in this building today.” He all was the crowd to have their reaction time. “But ten years ago, I had to take myself off the hamster wheel. I had to, for better or for worse, make the hardest decision of my life. And I don’t regret it. I don’t look back.”

Y/N tilts her head, wondering to herself what exactly was the hardest part of that decision. He says he’s moved on, that he doesn’t look back on that fateful day, but part of her doesn’t believe that. There’s no way he’s managed to move on like nothing happened when that day ten years ago still manages to haunt her in the present. But perhaps that’s her own weight she needs to carry, not his.

“But there was always that part of me that wondered if anybody paid to see CM Punk that day I walked out of Cleveland, if they were disappointed. Backstage, I saw a young lady by the name of Indy, and she told me that she felt betrayed as that little kid. And I told her a story of when I saw ‘Rowdy’ Roddy Piper appear on WCW television. And as a young wrestling fan, I felt the exact same way, so I understood. So, if you’re here now, if you’re watching at home, and you’re disappointed that CM Punk walked out, I understand. And hell, ladies and gentlemen, I apologize.”

The applause for that is thunderous. Y/N watches, her eyes widening at that last sentence. Punk? Apologizing? She never thought she’d live to see the day. But that’s his whole new brand now. Older, wiser, just here to have a good time and make money.

“I’ve gone to SmackDown, and I’ve listened to what Nick Aldis has to say. He put together a very substantial offer. You understand. I went down to NXT, I hung out with Shawn Michaels, and there’s a fifteen year old CM Punk somewhere in the universe who’s tickled to death that he got an offer from Shawn Michaels to go help mold the next generation of Superstars. It’s a great deal.” He glances down to his right, “Adam Pearce has put together a deal that, honestly, is head and shoulders above both those other deals.”

That’s when it finally clicks for everyone in the crowd as they realize the Second City Saint is about to sign a contract right in front of their very eyes. “But can I be very real and very honest with you folks right now? My mind was probably already made up when I looked at the calendar and I saw Cleveland. I’m here to bury those ghosts. I’m here to right a few wrongs. My future starts now.” He smiles cockily, shrugging his shoulders. “You couldn’t write a better television show, ladies and gentlemen. Ten years, almost to the day, CM Punk walked out. And regardless of how you feel about it, CM Punk walks right back in!”

That’s when he stops pacing, making direct eye contact with the camera again. “And if you’re happy about it… if you’re mad about it,” his voice lowers then, almost in a deliberate fashion. “You better learn to love it, ‘cause congratulations, Adam Pearce…” Adam sticks out his hand to seal the deal. “The newest Raw Superstar is named CM Punk…” the crowd goes bananas, “and CM Punk is home!”

With that, he shakes Pearce’s hand, taking the folder from him and signing it with that same unshakable confidence he’s always had. Everyone backstage claps at the segment, some of the other stars cheering as one of their all time favorites has just returned to the company “officially.”

Y/N continues watching blankly, ignoring commentary and the chants of his name. Punk runs to the corner of the ring, celebrating with the crowd as her hearing seems to go out. He’s actually back. Avoiding him is going to be much harder now. The only reprove she might have is that he won’t show up much on Friday’s. The only thing that seems to snap her out of her haze of thoughts is the familiar scream.

BURN IT DOWN!

Y/N looks back to the monitor and suddenly Colby’s form appears on screen. Punk doesn’t bother to hide his irritation as Seth dances down the ramp, living for the way the audience sings his song. He doesn’t linger for much longer, tossing his sunglasses haphazardly into the audience, championship belt snug around his waist as he beelines it for the ring. Y/N knew this confrontation was on the call sheet, but after what Phil said in the ring on Friday, she doubts this is going to surmount to anything professional.

The look on Seth’s face says everything Colby is thinking. It makes Y/N’s heart spike with nerves and without doing much thinking, she darts towards Gorilla. When she enters the small space, people shoot her off looks, telling her it’s nowhere near time for her match.

“I know, I know,” her eyes dart back to the monitor. “I just… got a bad feeling about this,” she mumbles. “I promise I’ll go if nothing happens. I’m just here as a precaution.”

Albeit reluctantly, they allow her to stay, on the condition that she remains quiet since they are so close to the entrance. Any loud noise could interrupt the show.

Punk watches Seth with narrowed eyes, quick to meet the Visionary in the center of the ring. The two of them puff their chests out, lifting their heads as a show of dominance. Pearce tries to deescalate the situation, but the two men can’t seem to take their eyes off of each other. The audience chants “Holy Shit” as a newfound tension seems to infect the ring. There’s no avoiding this bout. It’s a head on collision waiting to take out everything and anything in its path.

The crowd fights to support their favorites, some singing Seth’s song, others chanting for Punk. It only stops when Seth brushes past Punk to get his own microphone. Phil crosses his arms, attitude on full display as he gestures for Seth to go ahead on his tangent, as if he already knew this was coming.

“CLEVELAND, OHIO!” Seth screams, his voice coming out in that growl that never fails to send shivers down Y/N’s spine. Her eyes never leave the monitor as Seth turns to face Phil again, “C…M… Punk.”

Both men are not afraid to show their disdain for each other. Punk’s nose scrunches up, his arms crossed, subconsciously showing just how closed off he is. How he doesn’t welcome Seth out there in the slightest. Seth stalks forward, eyes narrowed, “Welcome to Monday Night Rollins!” The crowd says it along with him, only boosting his ego further.

Punk simply allows Seth to get in his face, nothing but that same cocky grin on his face. Anyone could read exactly what that smirk means. He plans on making sure that Raw is his show, no one else’s.

“I hope you know how incredibly fortunate you are to be standing in this ring right now. But could you just do me, just one, one little favor, just one thing, please?” Seth gestures wildly with his hand, almost in a flimsy manner before his face falls and his limbs go rigid. He looks Punk dead in the eyes, “Don’t you dare call this place your home.”

The crowd boos in response, an elongated silence stretching between the men as everyone starts chanting CM Punk again. Seth gives him a moment to respond, but when he doesn’t he raises the microphone back up to his own lips. “You abandoned this place ten years ago. Not only did you abandon it, you actively tried to tear it down. You spent ten years slandering me, slandering every person back in that locker room,” he points towards backstage. “And then, you wanna walk back in here and call this place your home. This is NOT your home! This is my home!”

Y/N’s heart clenches at Colby’s words. Sure, this was all planned, but that dialogue, that came straight from him. Not Seth. Colby. He poured exactly how he’s felt for the past decade into that monologue and she couldn’t be prouder of him. He’s been the workhorse of the company since she could remember and he deserves his flowers more than anyone.

“I’ve been here. Everybody in the back, those are my brothers and sisters,” Seth continues on passionately. “Everybody here, everybody watching at home, that is my family, and this is our home!” He circles around the ring like the true showman he is. “And I will do everything within my power to protect it from people like you!”

Punk simply smirks in response, his blue eyes lighting up with mischief. Seth can see his expression shifting so he doesn’t give him a chance to respond. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I don’t want there to be any confusion. I know I’m a bit worked up. I want everybody to understand. I’m going to say it plainly, with every fiber in my being, I hate you.”

The roof damn near explodes off the arena as the crowd screams at his declaration. Y/N feels her eyes widen at how simply he said it. Like it’s just another fact of life. Phil looks down at the floor, grin only growing, almost as if he’s willing himself not to laugh. Everyone can feel the other shoe about to drop and it makes Y/N nervous. There’s way too much animosity out there for it to end like that.

“But… if you’re going to be a part of WWE again, then I want you on Monday Night Raw,” Seth laughs evilly. “Because the truth always comes out, pal. The truth always comes out. I know, you know, everybody else knows… this is your last chance. And, so, one of two things is gonna happen. Either you’re gonna expose yourself, you’re gonna self-destruct like you always do. And I’ll be the first person in the back to slam the door shut on your legacy!” He pauses, “Or, if by some miracle, you have changed… and you’ve got any gas left in this old tank… maybe one day, you’ll be lucky enough to stand across the ring from me in a World Heavyweight Championship match. And, then I will expose you for the fraud that you are.” His glare intensifies with his voice. “I will show you that there are levels to this, I will wrestle circles around you, and I will let you understand in real time… what it means to be the ‘best in the world.’”

For the first time in Seth’s whole rant, Punk finally raises his mic up. His eyes are cold despite that constant shit-eating grin on his face. He bravely steps up to Seth, voice tight. “Are you done?” He doesn’t even give him a chance to reply. “That’s your one pass to stand here and speak to me disrespectfully without me coming after you.”

He takes a step forward, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. “But I see what this really is. You’re not out here defending the ‘future’ or waving some flag of morality. Nah, this ain’t about the locker room. You’re just trying to rewrite history — polish up your little redemption arc with smoke and mirrors. But behind all that screaming, all that passion, there’s just one thing you’re really afraid of.” His eyes narrow, laser-focused. “Her.”

The crowd makes a collective sound — part gasp, part groan. Seth’s expression doesn’t budge, but his shoulders do. Just slightly. Enough.

“Oh, now I’ve got your attention,” Punk sneers, licking his lips like he tastes blood. “Don’t act like you weren’t waiting for me to bring her up. You always knew it’d come to this. You can drag out every camera-friendly version of the truth you want, but everybody backstage knows exactly what went down when I left.” He gestures behind him, then jabs a thumb in Seth’s direction. “You didn't earn her trust — it was handed to you by management. You were the golden boy, the chosen one. So when I walked out, they slid her next to you like some prop to keep the Shield from falling apart.”

Seth flinches.

“But you? You ran with it. You got close. Real close. And suddenly the world forgot what came before. You got to play the hero in the fairytale while I got turned into the villain — again.” He steps closer to Seth now, voice lowering. “But she wasn’t yours to win. You didn’t earn her loyalty, Seth. You inherited it. And deep down, she knew it too.”

Seth mutters something under his breath, but Punk talks over him, venom dripping from every word. “You paraded her around like she chose you. Like she picked the guy who stayed. But let’s be real for once — she never made a choice. She was never given one.”

Punk stops pacing, turning his full body toward the hard camera, voice rising again. “So how ‘bout this? Let’s stop pretending this is about brands and belts and legacies. Let’s talk about betrayal.” He turns his head slightly, back toward Seth. “Not mine. Hers.”

Seth’s entire face shifts — his eyes flash like he’s about to leap across the ring. The crowd explodes in reaction. “Because if anyone stabbed anyone in the back, it was Y/S/N.” Punk’s voice drops to a snarl. “She stood beside me for years. Knew what I fought for, what I bled for. And when things got hard, when I needed her most? She let me walk away alone. Worse — she stayed. She became everything we used to fight against.”

A second of silence.

Then—

“Enough.”

The voice cuts through the arena like thunder. The crowd erupts as Y/S/N storms onto the ramp — mic already in hand, expression unreadable but blazing. She doesn’t look to the crowd. Doesn’t smile. She’s a bullet, aimed straight at the ring.

“You really wanna do this here? Fine. Let’s hash it out since apparently it’s become damn near impossible for you to keep my name out of your mouth!”

Y/N couldn’t believe she was doing this. After doing her best to avoid him like the plague, she was throwing all of that away. It was time to confront her demons. If he wanted to come at Seth sideways, she’d make sure he knew that she had something to say about it.

She slides under the ropes without hesitation, rising to her full height, nose-to-nose with Punk like gravity doesn’t apply to her. “You wanna talk about betrayal?” she asks, her voice deceptively calm. “Let’s talk.”

Punk’s smirk twitches. “Look who decided to show up.”

She doesn’t blink. “You left. You walked away. From this place. From me. From everything. And you want to call me a traitor?”

“I needed you,” he bites, quieter now, but sharper. “You didn’t come.”

“I waited!” she fires back. “I waited for months. I defended you when nobody else would. I almost lost my job trying to justify your choices. I begged them not to turn their backs on you. But you didn’t call. You didn’t write. You disappeared. And when they came to me with Shield gear and a script I had no say in, what was I supposed to do? Say no? Get fired? Go down with a ship you set on fire?”

Her voice is shaking now, fury and grief tangled like a noose. “So don’t you dare stand there and act like I owed you anything more than that when you didn’t even tell me goodbye.”

He scoffs bitterly, like the sound hurts him. “You think I had a choice?”

She shoves him — full force. “YES!”

The arena gasps, then breaks into a frenzy of noise. “You had every choice. You chose to run. And now you come back and try to punish me for continuing on without you?” Her voice breaks, just for a second. “I didn’t betray you, Punk. I mourned you. You didn’t just leave the company. You left me. You left the version of yourself I believed in. And when I finally stopped looking over my shoulder hoping you’d come back — you did. But not as the man I knew. Not the man I fought side by side with. Just another bitter stranger picking a fight with the past.”

That lands harder than any slap could’ve.

Punk stares at her, jaw clenched so tightly it looks like it might crack. His mic raises again, but now his voice is raw. “You don’t get to stand there and call me a stranger when every part of you changed the moment they handed you a title and a spotlight.”

Y/S/N lets out a sharp laugh. “You think this is about titles? I earned everything I have. You think you’re the only one who bled for this place? I’ve bled. I’ve broken bones. I’ve gone through tables, cages, and hell just to prove that I belonged here. Not as your shadow. Not as Seth’s trophy. Hell, not even as Roman’s right hand. But as me.”

Punk steps forward, his words now a whisper between them. “Then say it.” He never breaks eye contact with her, daring her to confirm what he’s thought over these past ten years. “Say you never cared about me.”

Silence stretches. The crowd holds its breath. Both of them knew what he really meant by that. The late nights they spent together, the endless hours of training, the emotional nights spent tangled up in the same hotel bed, trying to figure out who they were and what they meant to each other. Cared is not the word he wanted to use. It’s what came out of his mouth, but they knew he meant more.

Love.

Y/N could read between the lines. “Say you never loved me,” was the underlying message that died on his tongue. Her eyes shimmer, but her spine stays straight. She breathes in — just once — and says: “I did. More than you’ll ever know. And I still let you go.”

That’s it. She turns her head, locking eyes with Seth, who’s still frozen at the edge of the ring. Y/S/N raises her mic one last time, voice clear as glass. “But I’m done being someone else’s ghost story.” She drops the mic, and the arena erupts. She walks to Seth, grabs his hand, and together they leave, backs straight, heads high. Punk doesn’t chase her. He just watches — with bloodshot eyes and a silence that says everything.

The second they pass through the curtain, the roar of the crowd fades into a dull roar — like thunder muffled through concrete. The crew around gorilla doesn’t say a word. Nobody tries to high-five them or offer praise. They all saw what just happened. They know it wasn’t all scripted.

Y/N’s chest is rising and falling fast, her knuckles white at her sides as her mic gets stripped from her hand by a passing tech. Her face is unreadable — not a blank mask, but a storm barely contained. The heat still clings to her skin, and her jaw clenches so tightly it looks painful.

Colby was right there beside her, breathing just as hard. But his face was tight with something else — not just exhaustion. Not just relief. He was furious. Not at her. Never at her. But his jaw was clenched so tight he could barely speak, and the vein in his neck was pulsing with restraint. She could feel it radiating off him — that Seth Rollins fire threatening to explode. But he pushed it down, shoved it back, because his only priority was her.

They turned the corner into the hallway behind gorilla, and the second they were alone, Colby finally spoke. “You okay?”

Y/N stopped walking. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, like she was physically trying to hold herself together. “I’m fine,” she lied automatically, eyes fixed on the floor.

He raised a brow, gently reaching for her arm. “Y/N—”

“No,” she said quickly, stepping back. Her eyes flicked up to his. “There was no reason for it to go that far. That wasn’t part of the plan. You were supposed to keep it professional.”

Colby didn’t flinch, even though her voice had sharpened. His anger toward Punk flared again, just under the surface — but he swallowed it, because she was what mattered right now. “I know,” he said quietly. “You’re right.”

She blinked, not expecting the easy agreement. Her lips parted slightly, but he kept going. “I let it get personal. I lost control. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to step in. That shouldn’t have been your burden. I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”

Her walls cracked then — not all the way, but enough. Enough for her to let out a small breath and lean back against the cool wall behind her. “He said some seriously messed up shit, Colby. Not just about me, but about you too,” Y/N runs a hand through her hair. “And God, I didn’t even care what he said about me, but as soon as he went after you, it was like–” she sighs. “I couldn’t even think before I walked out there.”

“I know,” he murmured. His hand came up, brushing a piece of hair gently behind her ear. “And if I hadn’t already promised you I wouldn’t beat the shit out of him backstage, I’d be halfway down the hall right now.”

That drew a weak laugh from her, one that died almost immediately — but Colby caught it, savored it, and offered her a half-smile in return. “God,” she groaned softly, dropping her face into her hands. “What a mess. I don’t even know why I got involved like that—”

“You got involved because you’re you,” Colby interrupted gently. “Because you care. And because he knows exactly how to get under your skin.”

She looked up at him then. Really looked. And for a second, they just stood there in the middle of the hallway, surrounded by silence and low flickering lights, everything unspoken passing between them in a glance. Then, without warning, she stepped into him. Her body collided with his chest, and his arms wrapped around her without hesitation. She buried her face into his shirt, breathing him in like he was the only real thing left in the world.

Colby kissed the top of her head and held her tighter, his fingers curling around the back of her neck protectively. “I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’ve always got you.”

Y/N didn’t answer at first, just sank into his hold like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. Like if he let go, she might fall apart completely. Then, barely audible against his chest: “God, I love you.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “I love you more.”

She leaned back just enough to meet his eyes — those deep, honey-brown eyes that saw every part of her. “You don’t have to take care of me right now, you know,” she whispered. “You’re allowed to be angry too.”

“I am angry,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I want to rip his head off. But that won’t fix anything. You will always come first. That’s not a choice. That’s just… what it is.”

Her lip quivered at that, and she didn’t even try to stop herself from kissing his cheek. It was soft — nothing like the firestorm they’d just walked through — but real. Grounding. He closed his eyes, pulling her even closer than she already was, like she was something fragile and precious that he’d die to protect.

And for just a moment, everything else disappeared. No Punk. No crowd. No WWE. Just them.

“I know I just said it, but I really do love you,” she whispered again as they pulled apart, forehead to forehead.

He smiled, brushing his thumb along her cheek. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

✧･ﾟ:*ᴵ’ᵐ ᵇᵉᵃᵘ ᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)*:･ﾟ✧*

Y/N’s match with Nia was approaching rapidly. She knew it was going to go well, she trusted Lina with her life, but she still couldn’t go out there completely cold turkey. She had to at least get in a light warm up before heading out there.

She was mid-lunge when a shadow fell over her peripheral vision. She didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“I figured I’d find you back here pretending you're not fuming,” Demi said, leaning casually against the crates, arms crossed, signature smirk in place.

Y/N groaned. “Am I that obvious?”

Rhea chuckled. “Only to people who know what it looks like to hold in a scream.”

Y/N let out a sharp exhale, standing upright and wiping the sweat from her brow. “Don’t start. I already had the whole heart-to-heart with Colby. I’m emotionally tapped out.”

“Relax, I’m not here to dissect your trauma,” Demi teased, pushing off the crates and strolling up beside her. “I just wanted to make sure you’re good. And maybe tell you that if Nia gets in one cheap shot, I’ll jump the barricade and help you powerbomb her through commentary. No questions asked.”

Y/N cracked a smile. “Now that’s friendship.”

“Damn right,” She smirked, nudging her shoulder. “Also, full offense — that was wild out there. You really came for his soul, huh?”

Y/N winced. “Didn’t mean to go that far. I just… snapped.”

“Well, he deserved it. You don't spit fire like that unless you've been burned. He knows it. We all do.” She paused, a beat of real sincerity slipping in. “You okay though? Like, actually?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing down at the wrap on her wrist. “I don’t know. He looked at me like… like he still—” she stopped herself. “Never mind.”

Rhea didn’t push. She just shrugged with a knowing look. “Men are dumb. Especially the broody, wounded poet ones with vendettas and outdated merch.”

Y/N snorted. “Jesus.”

“Anyway,” Rhea clapped her hands together. “If you’re not emotionally obliterated by the time you’re done with Nia, Luis and I are hitting the gym after the show. Nothing says therapy like flipping tires and judging each other’s playlists.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Is that an actual invite or are you just giving me something to think about other than CM Misery?”

Rhea smirked, eyes glinting. “Bit of both.”

A cue came through Y/N’s headset — four minutes. She rolled her shoulders and took one last breath. “Thanks, Demi. Really.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Rhea said as she started walking away. “If you don’t win, I’m telling everyone I offered and you said no. Gotta protect my rep.”

Y/N grinned after her, then turned back toward the curtain — fire in her veins, and a little less weight on her chest.

Her heart hadn’t quite stopped racing, even as Demi’s footsteps disappeared down the hallway. The encounter had been brief, but grounding — a spark of levity in a night that had, so far, been drenched in fire and emotional chaos. Demi’s offer lingered in her ears like a song stuck on loop. Flipping tires and judging each other’s playlists. Therapy, indeed.

Still stretching, Y/N exhaled a steady breath and stood tall, rolling her shoulders out as a production assistant’s voice crackled in her headset. “Two minutes to curtain.”

She gave a nod, then peeled the sweat-damp towel from around her neck, tossing it aside. The title belt gleamed from the corner of the room, resting atop a folded chair — her name engraved on the side plate like it belonged there. And it did. Because she earned it.

Focus. Be present.

She draped the championship over her shoulder, stepped toward the curtain, and waited for the storm to begin. And then it did.

A sonic boom of bass dropped as her entrance music blared through the arena’s speakers, vibrating through the floor and rattling through her chest like a war drum. The moment she stepped through the curtain, a wall of light and noise hit her all at once — pyro lighting up the sky behind her, the jumbotron splashed with her name, and thousands of fans rising to their feet in a unified scream of reverence.

“Y/S/N! Y/S/N! Y/S/N!”

The chants filled every inch of the stadium, growing louder with every step she took down the ramp. Her presence was magnetic, unstoppable. She moved like a storm in boots — chin high, eyes sharp, the title belt now raised above her head with pride and defiance. Cameras flashed as she slid into the ring and climbed the ropes, pointing to a sign in the front row that read: "CM WHO? OUR CHAMP STAYS WINNING." A half-smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She couldn’t afford to focus on that right now, but it still warmed something frozen inside her.

The lights shifted. And then the mood changed. Nia Jax’s music cut through the electricity like a serrated blade. The boos were instant. Loud. Justified. Nia stepped out with all the arrogance in the world, her eyes already locked on Y/S/N, a smirk playing across her face like she knew something the rest of them didn’t. She moved slowly, deliberately — her entrance less about showmanship and more about dominance.

Y/N didn’t move. Didn’t blink. She just waited. The moment Nia climbed through the ropes, they were on each other — eyes locked, breaths heavy with tension, the air between them practically crackling. “You sure you wanna be here tonight, sweetheart?” Nia asked with a saccharine sweetness that made Y/N’s lip curl. “After getting dragged by your ex in front of the world, you might wanna sit this one out.”

Y/S/N leaned in closer, running her tongue across her teeth, her voice low but lethal. She takes a defiant step forward, “He’s not my ex,” she snaps out. Y/N knows Lina is only doing it for the sake of their oncoming feud, but it still caught her off guard. But she has to remember, everything is in character. “And you know what? I was planning on going easy on you. Now I’m not.”

The bell rang before Nia could even snort a response. The match was a war from the opening second. It began with brute force — a lock-up that turned into a raw test of strength, Nia tossing Y/N across the ring like a sack of flour. But Y/N popped back up, hitting a clean kip-up and nailing a dropkick that landed square in Nia’s chest. The crowd erupted again, hungry for more.

The pace quickened. Y/N ducked a wild clothesline and rebounded off the ropes, throwing herself into a spinning back elbow that rocked Nia just enough to take her to a knee. Another dropkick. Then another. But every time Nia stumbled, she bounced back harder. Ten minutes in, Y/N was on the mat after taking a brutal Samoan drop that nearly knocked the air out of her lungs. She rolled away, clutching her ribs.

Fifteen minutes in, they were both running on fumes — sweat pouring, limbs heavy. The mat itself felt like it was shaking beneath them. Y/N drove a boot into Nia’s knee, followed by a snap DDT that planted her hard. She tried to go for a pin, but Nia powered out, roaring like a wounded animal.

Each time Y/N hit the ropes, it was with renewed fire. Each time she fell, it was with purpose — because she always got up. No wasted motion. No hesitation. Just pure, unfiltered resilience.

From backstage, Phil Brooks watched it all unfold on the monitor. He stood in the shadows, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched so hard it ached. The light from the screen cast flickering shadows over his face, his eyes never leaving her — not even once.

She was brilliant.

A warrior in motion. Every strike she threw had venom. Every counter, every transition, every dive — it was like watching a symphony composed entirely in punches and pain. He’d known how good she was. He just hadn’t wanted to admit how beautiful it was to watch her thrive without him.

That was the worst part.

Even now, after all the bitterness and venom and distance between them, some rusted part of his soul still ached when he saw her shine. Because it reminded him of what they had, and how he had been the one to dim her light — and she still burned anyway.

He didn’t want to feel anything. But he did. God help him, he did.

Back in the ring, the match thundered toward its climax. Y/N rebounded off the middle rope, twisting mid-air into a beautifully brutal springboard tornado DDT that dropped Nia square on her back. Without pausing, Y/N scrambled to the top rope, legs shaking from exhaustion, and flew with a precision moonsault that landed clean across Nia’s chest.

She hooked the leg.

“ONE! TWO!! THREE!!!”

The bell rang, and the crowd exploded. Y/N collapsed back onto the mat, lungs burning, chest heaving, fingers curling tightly around the championship belt as it was handed back to her. She rolled onto her knees, eyes fluttering shut for a brief second as the weight of the match — and the night — settled on her shoulders.

She had survived. She had won.

The crowd was chanting her name again, and this time, it wasn’t just noise. It was affirmation. It was love. She stood slowly, holding the title high in the air as the camera zoomed in on her face. Sweat streaked her hairline. Her eyes shone with something unspoken. And somewhere backstage, behind that monitor, Phil exhaled the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Y/S/N was still the champion.

And he was still very, very confused on where the true line between hate and love was drawn.

✧･ﾟ:*ᴵ’ᵐ ᵇᵉᵃᵘ ᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)*:･ﾟ✧*

The roar of the crowd was still echoing faintly through the hallway when Phil stepped back from the monitor. She had done it. Again.

There she was, championship hoisted high, sweat shining on her brow like a damn halo. And the worst part? The worst, most soul-wrenching part of it all? She hadn’t even looked at him.

No glance in his direction to celebrate her win. No asking if he was proud of what she had accomplished. She didn’t need him. Not anymore. The moment she stepped through the curtain, the hallway seemed to shift around her — an energy he hadn’t seen in a long time. People clapped her on the back as she passed, voices congratulating her left and right. She was magnetic, glowing. Untouchable.

She laughed — breathless and real — and that sound cut through Phil’s chest like shrapnel. Colby was the first to pull her in. Not in a subtle, casual way, either. His arms looped tightly around her waist, his face buried briefly in her hair before he leaned back and said something that made her tilt her head and laugh again — softer this time, private. Too private.

Phil’s gaze darkened.

Josh and Cody joined seconds later, all grins and praise. Even Sami wandered over from catering with a smug “told you so” smirk, but Phil didn’t process their words. He didn’t hear anything over the pounding in his ears as his eyes tracked that one damn detail like a target he couldn’t miss:

Colby’s hand. Still on her. Fingers spread low across her back, like he belonged there.

Like Phil hadn’t.

The heat rolled up his spine like a fuse being lit. He stepped forward before he could think better of it, legs moving on instinct — but a hand suddenly shot out, firm against his chest. Stopping him. “You need to slow the hell down.”

Phil turned, already bristling. “Becky—”

“I swear to God, if you take one more step looking like you’re about to reenact a scene from Fight Club in the hallway, I’m knocking you out myself.”Her tone was bright but dangerous—witty in that razor-sharp Irish way that left little room for argument. Her copper hair was braided tight, her eyes sharper.

“Let go,” he muttered, trying to pull his arm back.

She didn’t. “Nah. I’ve seen that murder-glare before. I was there when you punched John in catering. I was there when you almost caved in Hunter’s door. So believe me when I say—don’t be dumb.”

Phil scowled. “You think I’m gonna cause a scene because she won a match?”

“I think you’re seconds away from throwing a tantrum because she didn’t run into your arms after the bell.”

His jaw clenched, sharp and immediate. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please.” Becky rolled her eyes, releasing his arm but stepping in closer. “You’ve been standing back here for ten minutes looking like you want to burn a hole through Colby’s skull with your mind. And let’s not pretend you’re here to congratulate her.”

Phil’s glare could’ve leveled a building. “You done?”

“Not even remotely.” Becky’s grin sharpened. “Look, I get it. You’re used to people bending over backwards for you. You're used to women waiting around while you figure your shit out. But guess what? Y/N doesn’t have time for your brooding Shakespeare routine.”

He laughed bitterly. “You think this is about me being broody?”

“I think you’re spiraling because for once in your miserable, emotionally constipated life, someone you care about moved on—and you weren’t the one who called the shots.”

Phil’s temper snapped. “Don’t talk like you know what happened between us.”

Becky’s eyes blazed. “I don’t need to know the details, Phil. I’ve seen the reruns. She trusted you. You shut her out. You picked fights, she tried to fix it, and you made her feel like she was never enough—when really, you were just too much of a coward to admit how you felt.”

“That’s not what happened,” he bit out, voice low and dangerous.

“Then what did?” she fired back. “Because all I’ve seen is you treat her like she’s the villain in a story you wrote, while she’s out there earning every bit of this moment.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Not when the words were crawling up his throat and making it impossible to breathe.

Becky shook her head, softer now. “Look at her, Phil. She just main-evented Raw, defended her title, carried that crowd on her back—and all you can think about is that Colby’s holding her too close?”

Phil glanced over his shoulder again, and sure enough, Y/N was still nestled against Colby, shoulder pressed to his chest, hand on his arm. Like home.

“You’re pissed because she looks happy without you,” Becky said. “But here’s the part that’ll really burn yer arse— no matter how angry you pretend to be, you still love her.”

His gaze snapped back to hers, a flash of something wild in his eyes. “I never said—”

“You don’t have to say it.” Her voice had dropped now. “It’s written all over your face.”

The hallway suddenly fell away and he was right back in that hotel room in Atlanta. It smelled like rain, cheap beer, and leftover Chinese food cooling in its styrofoam container on the coffee table. The low hum of the TV filled the silence—wrestling reruns from earlier that night, blurred and grainy, flickering over the walls in dull shades of blue.

April stood near the window, her arms crossed tight over her chest. Not in defiance. In desperation. Like if she let go, she’d unravel. Her lips trembled, but her voice didn’t.

“You’re always there when she is.”

Phil didn’t look up from where he was unlacing his boots. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she snapped. “Every event. Every promo. Every backstage interview. She so much as coughs and you’re halfway across the arena, checking on her like she’s your responsibility.”

“She’s my friend, April. Or am I not allowed to have those anymore?”

April’s laugh was dry, bitter. “You keep saying ‘friend’ like that makes your behavior okay.”

Phil straightened up, shoulders stiff. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means I watch you,” she said, stepping forward. “I see you. The way your whole damn face changes when she walks into the room. The way your tone softens when you talk about her. Like she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to wrestling—and to you.”

He scoffed. “Don’t start with this jealous girlfriend crap.”

She flinched like he’d slapped her. “Jealous? Jesus, Phil, do you even hear yourself?”

He rolled his eyes, turning away from her.

April’s voice sharpened. “You talk about her like she’s untouchable. Like you’re lucky just to be around her. I’ve never heard you speak about me the way you speak about her in interviews. Not once.”

Phil spun around, his eyes flashing. “You’re twisting everything. This isn’t about her—it’s about you. You’re insecure, and you’re dragging her into this because you don’t want to admit it.”

April’s breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t back down. “Insecure?” she echoed, stunned. “You think this is insecurity? No, Phil. It’s recognition.”

He froze.

“I see what you refuse to admit,” she went on, her voice rising. “You love her. You don’t have to say it—it’s written all over your damn face. And maybe you haven’t crossed any physical lines, but emotionally? You’ve been gone for a long time.”

Phil barked a harsh, humorless laugh. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

“You remember that angle she did with Cody?” she continued, ignoring him. Her tone almost patronizing, like she wants to get a reaction out of him. She saunters over, her need to hear him confess the only thing keeping her from completely snapping. “The one with the kiss? I remember exactly how you reacted. You didn’t speak to anyone for the rest of the night. You trashed the locker room, told everyone it was about creative—but it wasn’t. It was about her.”

“That kiss wasn’t in the script,” Phil said through clenched teeth. “It was stupid. Cheap. Just for a pop—”

“No, it was a kiss, Phil. A basic wrestling spot. But you acted like she cheated on you.” April moved in closer, her hands shaking now. “Same thing when she posted that picture with John. The one backstage after that panel in New York? Where he treated her for coffee and she said she was the luckiest girl in the world? You threw your phone across the room.”

He pointed at her, his voice rising. “Don’t act like you know what’s in my head.”

“I don’t need to,” she spat. “I’ve seen enough. You pretend to be above all this shit—above drama, above feelings—but when she’s involved? You fall apart.”

Phil’s breathing was heavy now, erratic. He raked a hand through his hair and turned his back on her again.

“She started dating that random kid she met at a convention. What was his name? Something stupid with a T. Trevor– Tyler? And you didn’t talk to her for two weeks. You ignored her texts, ducked out early every night, acted like she stabbed you in the back.”

“I was busy,” he growled.

“You were pissed,” she corrected. “Because you didn’t like it. Because it wasn’t you.”

He whipped around, voice suddenly thunderous. “I TOLD YOU TO DROP IT!”

April didn’t flinch, in fact she got closer. She was never one to be afraid of Phil’s temper, especially about this. It was all just a wall for him to hide behind. “Why? Because I’m right?”

“Because you’re making shit up!”

She stepped into his space, eyes brimming with hurt and fire. “No. I’m just saying the quiet part out loud.”

Phil looked like a cornered animal. Pacing. Clenching and unclenching his fists like he needed something to hit. His jaw twitched violently. “You’re delusional,” he muttered.

“I’m done letting you lie to me. Stop insulting my intelligence by trying to make it seem like it’s all in my head.”

She was close now—so close he could smell her shampoo, see the rise and fall of her chest as her voice caught. “You think I didn’t see it before? That moment at WrestleMania two years ago—after her match with Charlotte? When she came through the curtain and hugged you first? Not her boyfriend at the time. Not her family. You. And you looked at her like she hung the damn moon.”

“Enough.”

“You stood by the monitors for her every match. You never did that for me.”

“Enough, April!”

“She was crying after her match with Becky last year, and you sat outside her locker room for forty-five minutes just trying to get her to come out. Didn't even tell me where you went. You think I didn’t know?”

“I said that’s ENOUGH!”

And then he snapped. He turned and punched the wall so hard the plaster cracked under his knuckles. A low, guttural sound tore from his throat as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the cool, ruined drywall. His whole body shook—rage, shame, confusion.

April didn’t move. After a long beat, her voice cut through the quiet like a blade. Quiet. Steady. Brutal.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t feel anything for her.”

He didn’t turn.

“Do it,” she said. “Look at me and say it. Say you don’t love her.”

His shoulders caved in like the weight was finally too much. Still, he didn’t turn around.

April’s voice broke, and still she stood her ground. “That’s what I thought.”

She didn’t slam the door when she left. She didn’t have to. The silence she left behind was louder than anything she'd ever screamed.

The memory snapped back like a rubber band to the face—sharp, stinging, and impossible to ignore. Phil blinked, the echo of April’s voice still ringing in his ears like a ghost he hadn’t laid to rest.

"That's what I thought."

Becky was still standing in front of him, arms crossed, chin tilted like she knew exactly what that silence meant—even if she didn’t know the story behind it. Her eyes flickered, searching his face. “You good now, tough guy?” she asked, her voice still laced with that Irish bite. “Or am I gonna need to get a straight jacket?”

Phil exhaled through his nose. It wasn't a laugh, not really, but it was all he could manage without splintering again. He wiped a hand over his mouth and forced himself to meet her eyes. “Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Becky didn’t move. She just raised a brow. “No, you’re not,” she said softly. “But I’ll let you keep lying. Just… don’t mess with her. Not unless it’s to fix everything wrong between ya. She deserves better than that.”

Then she walked away, leaving him in the hallway with the hum of the exit sign and the ache of things he never said.

And still couldn’t.

✧･ﾟ:*ᴵ’ᵐ ᵇᵉᵃᵘ ᵗᶦᶠᵘˡ (ꈍ ꒳ ꈍ✿)*:･ﾟ✧*

The gym Demi dragged Y/N to buzzed with familiar energy—weights clinking, music humming low through the speakers, occasional grunts and laughter echoing off the walls. It smelled of chalk, sweat, and rubber—harsh, but oddly comforting. Y/N had grown used to it. Sometimes it was the only place that made sense.

She was flat on the mat, abs burning as she knocked out the final few sit-ups of her set. Her breathing was labored, controlled, and she counted each one silently until her body finally gave in and collapsed with a huff. A shadow crossed her peripheral vision.

“You good?” Luis asked, crouching down beside her, a water bottle extended like a peace offering. Sweat glistened on his biceps, the towel slung around his neck damp with effort.

Y/N didn’t answer at first. She just took the water with a grateful grunt, unscrewed the cap, and drank like her life depended on it. “Alive. Barely,” she managed between gulps. “Pretty sure Demi’s secretly a sadist.”

“Confirmed,” Luis replied easily, eyes flicking toward the bench press area.

Across the gym, Demi gave them both a look that was equal parts smug and amused. “I heard that!” she called, not even out of breath. “And you’re welcome.”

“You both suck,” Y/N muttered, lying back down dramatically.

Luis grinned. “And yet, here you are. Voluntarily.”

“Peer pressure.”

He shrugged. “Nah. You needed this. Better hangin’ with us than being stuck backstage.”

Y/N huffs as Luis sticks his hand out to help her up. She accepts it gratefully, allowing him to pull her onto her feet. He lazily slings his arm around her shoulder as Demi finally makes her way back over to the two of them.

“Alright,” she announced, “what’s next on the torture agenda?”

Luis gestured toward Y/N. “She wants to spar.”

Y/N sat up. “No, I don’t.”

“Too late,” Demi grinned. “Luis, you’re up. You two, in the ring. I’ll ref. Let’s settle this once and for all.”

“Settle what?” Y/N asked, brushing the towel off.

Luis stood and stretched, his smile cocky. “Who’s scrappier.”

Demi cracked her knuckles. “Spoiler: it’s me. But I’m feeling generous today.”

Y/N sighs loudly as Luis gets in position to actually wrestle her. Her body burns from the heavy lifting she did, but Y/N’s never been one to back down from a challenge, even if her opponent is a whole torso and head taller than her.

Luis stands across from her bouncing on the balls of his feet, shirtless now, tattoos flexing with every motion. “You sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, flashing her a grin that was somewhere between charming and challenging.

“I don’t need to be ready,” Y/N said, rolling her neck. “You should be worried.”

“Oooh,” Demi muttered from the sidelines, already smirking. “You gonna let her talk to you like that?”

Luis’s brows lifted. “Talk? Nah. But she can show me what she’s got.”

Y/N smirked. “Keep talking, Romeo. I’ll plant you faster than your last situationship ghosted you.”

“Damn,” Demi said, laughing as she dropped into a crouch beside the mat. “I’m just here to ref, but this is better than Raw Talk.”

Luis lunged first—light on his feet, playful—but Y/N dodged easily, sweeping behind him and tapping the back of his knee. He stumbled but caught himself, already spinning with a smirk.

“Okay, okay,” he said, circling. “You got reflexes. I’ll give you that.”

“I’ll take that and your ego in one go,” she said, darting in. They grappled briefly, a tangle of limbs and tension. Luis was stronger, no doubt, but she was quick and scrappy—half laughter, half precision.

He caught her by the waist mid-move, spinning her around before she could land a knee.

“Tryna take me down, princesa?” he murmured, breath brushing her ear. “You’re gonna have to buy me dinner first.”

She twisted in his grip, laughing. “I don’t date guys who lose to me.”

“Then let me win.”

“That’s even worse.”

They crashed down onto the mat, Luis letting her get the upper hand just long enough for her to think she had it, before flipping them both with a grin. Y/N squirmed beneath him, both of them breathless and sweaty, their faces close enough to feel the heat between them.

“Pinned,” Luis said smugly.

Y/N arched a brow. “That’s cute. You think this counts.”

Before he could respond, Demi blew an imaginary whistle. “Alright, break it up, horn dogs. I’m not about to explain to HR why y’all are dry-humping on the sparring mats.”

Luis let Y/N up with a groan as she rolled her eyes. “For the record,” she said, brushing off her leggings, “if this were a real match, I’d have won.”

“Sure you would’ve,” Luis said, winking. “But if you need another round to prove it, I’ve got time.”

Demi made a gagging noise, but the sound was cut off by the slam of a gym door and a low voice calling, “What did I miss?”

Y/N turned to find Joshua Fatu walking in, hoodie slung low on his frame, sunglasses still on indoors like the menace he was. He scanned the scene—Y/N still flushed from the fight, Luis shirtless and smirking, Demi looking way too entertained.

“Please tell me I’m not too late for the main event,” Josh said, tugging his hoodie off.

“You’re just in time for the post-match commentary,” Demi quipped.

Josh came to a slow stop in front of Y/N, giving her a once-over, then grinned. “You beat him?”

“I would’ve,” Y/N said with mock offense. “But your boy fights dirty.”

Luis held up his hands. “Hey, I was respectful.”

Josh laughed. “That’s your first mistake.”

“Y/N’s the one who started it,” Luis said. “I just responded to the energy.”

Josh leaned in, lowering his voice just enough. “Yeah, well… her energy’s dangerous.”

Y/N’s lips curled into a smirk, but before she could fire something back, Josh reached over and tugged at her ponytail. “You know, you should spar with me next. Bet you’d look cute talking all that shit from the mat.”

Luis rolled his eyes. “You wish, Fatu. She barely survived me.”

“Please,” Demi said, wiping her hands on a towel. “You two have been flirting harder than commentary during a mixed tag match. Get in line.”

Josh tilted his head. “So there is a line?”

“I didn’t say you were at the front of it,” Y/N teased.

He held a hand to his heart. “Ouch. Damn mama, don’t gotta bruise my ego.”

Luis draped an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “It’s okay. She likes ‘em with wit and a winning record.”

“Oh, that’s how we’re playing it?” Josh said. “Alright, alright. We’ll see what happens next time we’re booked together.”

Demi, ever the chaos agent, grabbed Y/N’s phone and waved it. “Okay, picture time. Before you two fight each other for real.”

Without warning, Luis jumped up on Y/N’s back causing the woman to grunt as she tries to hold him up.

“Wait, wait—what are you doing—Luis!” she shouted, laughing as he propped her up on his shoulders with a satisfied grunt.

“You’re gonna thank me when you see how good your arms look from this angle,” he said. “All this pressure’s gonna give you the pump of a lifetime.”

“You’re gonna thank me when I drop you flat on your ass,” Y/N muttered, still grinning as she balanced.

“Everybody shut up and smile,” Demi said, placing the phone at a good enough distance before setting the timer. “This is going viral.”

The camera clicked.

@Y/S/Nwwe

liked by trinity_fatu, wwerollins, rhearipley_wwe, and 626,356 others

tagged: rhearipley_wwe, archerofinfamy, uceyjucey

Y/S/Nwwe: Fought for my life and then got body-snatched for the selfie. Friends like these 🫠💪 #gymrats #chaosunit #sendhelp

View all 12,367 comments

@beckylynchwwe: Who needs enemies with a squad like this? 😂🔥

@trinity_fatu: Y’all are a mess. I love it.

@otiswwe: I volunteer as next lifting partner 🙋‍♂️

@uceyjucey: Don’t let this post distract you from the fact I’m prettier in person.

@rhearipley_wwe: I’m the real MVP for this shot. You’re welcome.

@archerofinfamy: I am not as heavy as she’s making me look 🙄.

@fansince2009: I knew she was strong, but DAYUM.

@justhereforcolby: This is cute but… where’s Colby? 👀

@idontlikeherfr: Not her flirting with every guy in the locker room 🙄

@sheeatsyouup: @idontlikeherfr Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, babe.

@mommyynation: I would kill to work out with her. 🔥

@burnitdowngirl97: Why is everyone flirting with my wife??? 😤

@CMpunk.fanpage01: Notice how Phil liked this five minutes after it went up? 👀 Coincidence? I THINK NOT.

@legendkilla_32: Seth’s not gonna like all that touching.

@AntiY/N_Burnbook: Okay but why is she everywhere lately? Mid in the ring, mid on the mic, and now a thirst trap in gym shorts. Yawn.

Y/N scrolled through the comments without really reading them, half-laughing at some, rolling her eyes at others. She was used to the internet—its praise and its poison. What she didn’t expect, though, was the subtle change in expression when she reached the top of the notifications.

@CMPunk liked your photo.

Her thumb hovered. Just for a second. No comment, no message—just a like. And somehow, that was louder than anything else.

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