#ty for asking though!! I appreciate you checking before just tossing one at me :’D

[yeehawbvby]

are requests open? :)

No they’re not, I’m sorry ;;w;; Writing has been too hard lately, I’d hate to open them and leave people waiting for something I might never have the energy to get around to, ya know??

[kimtanathegeek]

Two Brothers, Many Paths - Ch 10

10 chapters?!!? Already?!!? Where has the time gone?!

Thank you all for reading this far, for your kudos, your kind words, and for going on this amazing journey with Sans, Papyrus, and me.

I really hope you're liking the story. Even though we're at Ch 10, their story is FAR from over.

Thanks again for reading my story, you have no idea how much I appreciate it! :D

—

Undertale copyright Toby Fox

Story and original characters by me, Kimtana

Please do not use without both permission and credit.  

Read below, or read it on AO3 here.

First

Previous

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Sans groaned and shifted, feeling every bone pop. His body did not want to wake up, but his brain urged him not to fall back to sleep. He opened one of his eyes slowly.

Papyrus was still wrapped up in the fabrics—the warmth from the fire long faded—and blanketed by Sans’ blue jacket. Sans smiled, glad to see his little brother resting comfortably. He checked Papyrus’ HP.

47 HP/100 HP.

Sans breathed a deep sigh of relief. The HP Papyrus had gained from the rest of the banana he ate before he went to sleep was still there. He hadn’t lost a single HP since regaining consciousness.

Sans—completely exhausted from overexertion, emotional drain, and from staying up all night to take care of Papyrus—had fallen asleep next to his brother. He didn’t mean to—he had wanted to stay awake to keep tending to Papyrus. But with the urgency to save his brother from the brink of death gone, Sans was able to rest.

He got up carefully, making sure not to disturb Papyrus from his well-needed sleep, and stood up. He stretched his body out, cracking and popping his bones. He ached horrifically from the strenuous activity of the night before. He checked his own HP to see how the night’s sleep affected his health.

40 HP/1 HP.

There was no extra 20 HP gained from sleep since he’d lost some health out in the storm, but at least he was back to 40. He limped over to the pantry shelf and grabbed a bit of bread from the diminishing stale loaf and ate it, feeling his pain subside a little.

He went into the fire room. He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep—without the sun and moon, it was impossible to judge time—but it had clearly been a long stretch of time. The water in the broken pottery was piping hot, and the hanging fabrics were extra toasty warm. The fire had barely dwindled, thankfully, so Sans didn’t need to feed it with more wood.

He took a piece of fabric and used it to protect his hand when taking the pottery off the fire basin. He placed it on the snowy floor to cool down, then took the fabrics from the racks.

After he carefully unwrapped the snoozing Papyrus, he felt his forehead and his ribcage under his tiny shirt. They were still cold, but nowhere near as frigid as they were the previous night. He wrapped him in the extra-warm fabrics, using several of them to pillow his head as he removed the haversack and put it on the floor beside the bed.

Papyrus snuggled into the warmth in his sleep while Sans smiled softly. He would let his little brother sleep as long as possible, and would feed him when he woke up to increase his HP further.

He put the fabrics on the warming racks and returned to the main room. While his brother slept, he would do a bit of work around the shelter.

First thing he needed to do was make himself some breakfast to ease more of the pain in his body. He made a roasted mushroom and cheese sandwich and ate on the floor next to the bed as he watched over Papyrus.

When he was finished, he felt much better. He grabbed the haversack and opened it, pulling out the items he had hastily stuffed in it to make a pillow for Papyrus. He put the emptied bag aside and set to re-organize the items as he sat on the floor by his brother’s side.

After some time, he had sorted the items back into piles to put away. He put the wood in the corner where the pantry boulder and snow wall met. He rolled up the pieces of parchment together in one bundle and tied it with one of the short pieces of twine, then placed it and most of the coils of twine and rope on the non-food shelf. As for the random odds and ends—including bits of broken jewelry, various pieces of metal, and several bows and ribbons—Sans bundled these up in another scrap of burlap, tying it at the top with a green ribbon so that he could tell this pouch from the one with the arrow and spear heads, and put it on the shelf. Lastly, he put the food they had found in the pantry—the sturdier fruit and vegetables in the snow “bowl” on the floor and the rest on the food shelf.

He picked up the haversack and put the longer pieces of twine and rope back in the side pockets, then hung the bag up on the bone coat rack. Now that he had finished organizing and putting away the foraged items, he felt a bit more accomplished.

The feeling was immediately replaced with utter guilt and sorrow. He had just completed the task he had abandoned the previous morning, setting into motion the terrible events from the day before. He buried his face in the haversack to stifle his sobs, desperate for Papyrus not to hear him.

He pulled himself together, urging himself to change Papyrus’ wrappings. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve, went into the fire room, and took the warmed fabrics off, then brought them to the bed.

Sans knelt down and started unwrapping the cooled-down fabrics, taking care not to jostle his sleeping brother too much. Papyrus stirred, then opened his eyes slightly.

“Sorry, Pap,” Sans apologized as he finished removing the fabrics from him. “Didn’t mean to wake you up. Ready for breakfast?”

Papyrus merely laid there in the freshly warmed fabrics, too weak to be eager about food, which wasn’t like him. Sans winced sadly, even though he didn’t expect Papyrus to wake up completely healed.

Sans went into the fire room and picked up the broken pottery with the water, which had cooled down from extremely hot to warm. It had melted the snow underneath, making a small, wet indent in the floor. He put it back on the fire basin to keep warm, then went to the pantry and grabbed another banana from the shelf.

Sans sat on the bed beside his brother and peeled the banana.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Papyrus grunted weakly, slightly scrunching up his face.

“Still not great, huh...,” Sans sighed. “Are you feeling warmer?”

The little skeleton nodded slowly.

“Well, that’s good!” Sans replied with exaggerated eagerness. “That means you’ll be better in no time!”

Sans broke off a tiny piece and fed it to his brother. Papyrus chewed slowly, his eyes drooping heavily. Once he swallowed, he didn’t open his mouth for more, but instead closed his eyes, his head lolling.

“Hey, now,” Sans said, holding another small bit of banana in front of him. “You’ve got to eat, Pap. It will make you so much stronger if you do.”

Papyrus barely opened his eyes as he opened his mouth feebly.

“There you go,” Sans said soothingly. “Just a few more bites, and I’ll get you some more hot water to warm your tummy.”

Bit by bit, Sans fed Papyrus half of the banana.  

“All right!” he praised him. “Great job. Let me go get you some water, then you can rest, ok?”

Papyrus was still chewing as he nodded slowly.

Sans got up and checked the water. Feeling that it was not too hot, he brought the warm water in and sat back on the bed. He helped his weakened brother drink, sip by sip, until the piece of pottery was emptied.

“All done,” Sans grinned gently. “Now you can rest, Pap.”

The little skeleton needed no further prompting. He settled into the pile of fabrics under his head and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he was back to sleep.

Sans checked his HP.

62 HP/100 HP.

More than halfway filled. Sans felt much better, though he felt saddened that Papyrus was still not his normal self. But sleep would do him good.

Sans got up and placed more snow in the broken pottery and placed it on the fire basin. Then he took a moment to inspect the melting damage of the walls and ceiling. It still wasn’t bad, but he needed to repair it before holes started appearing.

While Papyrus slept, Sans crawled through the opening, dug out the entrance, and crawled out. The snow had deepened overnight, giving Sans plenty of building material to work with.

He started with the roof. He tossed armfuls of snow up onto one of the boulders, then climbed up onto it. He packed the snow onto the roof carefully, hoping that his repairs didn’t cause a cave in. When he was out of snow, he slid off the boulder and tossed more up on the other boulder to work on the opposite side.

Once the roof had a thick layer of snow packed onto it, Sans slid back down off the boulder and started pushing snow towards the entrance. He shoved the snow into the shelter, then went back outside to get more. After several piles of snow, he closed up the entrance and checked on Papyrus.

The little skeleton hadn’t moved an inch, sleeping soundly in the warmth of the fabrics.

Sans grabbed armful after armful of the snow, bringing it into the fireroom, until all the snow piles had been moved. He worked on the thinning walls, building them up and packing the snow in tightly. Then he leveled the floor where the water runoffs from the layers of bones above the fire had dissolved the snow around the basin. He wished he had a bucket or container to catch the precious water, but he was grateful he had found the broken pottery piece when he did. Hopefully, future foraging trips would result in something to hold and store water.

Sans finished the repairs after some time. He looked around the room to double check his work while catching his breath and wiping his brow. Satisfied, he checked on Papyrus.

He was still fast asleep. As much as Sans wished he would wake up to eat more food, he knew the sleep would be good for his weakened state. He might waken anyway, since it was time to change the fabrics.

He took the warmed fabrics from the racks, sat on the bed, and switched them over. Sans was surprised—and even a little concerned—that Papyrus didn’t even stir. Once the little skeleton was in fresh, warm fabrics, Sans sat with him a moment, stroking his brother’s head gently.

Poor thing..., he thought, watching Papyrus sleep. He’s been through so much. I can’t imagine how scared and hurt he must have been. How horrible, to have wandered in that frigid cold alone and with no way to get warm. He must have suffered so much pain before he passed out in that spot.... And all he wanted to do was help his big brother feel better....

Sans sighed sadly, feeling guilt-ridden, as he glanced down at the pile of cooled-down fabrics next to him. His eyes focused on a small, grey scrap, almost the exact color as his haversack. He thought for a moment, came up with an idea, and put the scrap to the side. He put the rest of the fabrics on the warming racks, then went back to the bed and retrieved the scrap. He glanced at Papyrus and grinned. Then he set to work.

 -

 Papyrus crumpled his face up, rousing from his lengthy slumber. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking back the sleep. He tried to stretch out his arms, but they were pinned against his sides by the wrapped fabrics. He whimpered as he wiggled back and forth, trying to get free.

Sans heard his brother and went over to the bed, sitting down on it. Papyrus looked up at him pleadingly for release.

“Careful there, Pap,” Sans soothed. “Let me help you out.”

Sans started unwrapping the fabrics, and as soon as he was able, Papyrus freed himself. He sat up—which pleased Sans, since he hadn’t been able to do so since the morning before he almost died—and stretched his arms up in the air, yawning widely.

“Feeling better?”

Papyrus nodded, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Nyeh.”

“Hungry?”

The little skeleton’s face broke into a grin. “Nyeh!”

He must be feeling better, Sans thought, smiling deep in his soul.

Sans handed him the other half of the banana, which Papyrus took in both hands and started eating. Sans went into the fire room and retrieved the warm water, then sat back on the bed next to his brother. He watched him eat the banana steadily.

“I was thinking,” Sans said. “We should take it easy the next couple days, Pap.”

Papyrus looked up from his banana, chewing a large mouthful.

“Yeah,” Sans answered his inquisitive look. “You’re still recovering, I’m still tired. I think we should stay here and rest before heading back out there.”

Papyrus swallowed, then looked at the banana in his hands sadly.

“Hey, no!” Sans said, waggling his hands. “Don’t feel bad! I think it’s good for us to just stay in! We’ve got plenty of food, the fire’s going strong, aaaand...,” he grinned wide, spreading out the word in singsong. “...that means we get to play together! Just you and me!”

Papyrus’ face lit up as he gasped for joy, almost dropping the banana. Two whole days of nothing but playing with his big brother?! Papyrus leaned over and hugged Sans excitedly.

Sans hugged his brother back, then rubbed the top of his skull gently.

“First, you’ve got to eat your banana, drink this warm water, and then we’ll start playing, ok?”

Papyrus had never focused so hard on eating food in his life.

Sans grinned, glad to have his brother back to normal.

 -

 For the next two days, the skeleton brothers rested up, while having the most fun they’d had since leaving their house that fateful day.

They played games on the snow floor with Papyrus’ tiny white bones like Tic-Tac-Bone, Pick-Up-Bones, and their favorite—Tower of Bones. The game was played by layering bones in crisscross patterns until all the bones were used up, making a tall, narrow tower. Then each brother took a turn removing a bone from the tower while trying not to topple it. Papyrus loved to watch the bones tumble, regardless of if he won or lost—Sans making sure to “accidentally” knock over the tower on his turn with his “clumsy” fingers several times, letting Papyrus win often.

When the bones fell, Papyrus always jumped up on his feet, giggling with his hands in the air. In Papyrus’ mind, any time the tower fell, both he and Sans won the game together.

“Nyeh heh heh!” he triumphantly exclaimed every time, his tiny hands on his hips, then plopped back on the floor and helped his brother rebuild the tower again.

They also played a new game Sans made up called Hide-The-Banana, where Sans would hide the last banana somewhere in the main room—the fire room was off limits for safety—while Papyrus shut his eyes, counting to ten. He giggled as he ran around the room, checking every spot until he found the banana, then held it up in the air, cheering and jumping up and down as Sans sang out “Da de daa!”

They spent hours playing with the tiny white bones like other monsters played with blocks. Sans discovered that they could use the snow to make tiny snowballs and stick the ends of the bones in them for joints, making really interesting buildings and bridges. Then Papyrus took one bone and Sans took another, pretending that they were toy figures of themselves. “They” climbed the buildings, crossed the bridges, and had all sorts of adventures.

Sans taught Papyrus how to roast food on the fire for each meal, which thrilled his little brother immensely. They sat in front of the basin, Papyrus in Sans’ lap, while Papyrus held the spear over the flame. Sans covered his brother’s little hands with his own, guiding and helping him with the spear. Sans showed him how to tell when to turn the food, how to know when it was fully roasted, and which foods cooked fast and which cooked slowly.

Papyrus proudly ate the first roasted mushroom and cheese sandwich he ever made—with Sans’ help, of course—and Sans couldn’t stop gushing to his brother how these sandwiches were way better than any sandwich he could ever make.

And at night, before bed, Sans told Papyrus bedtime stories their parents used to tell them, repeating them nearly word for word. Papyrus stayed up to hear every word, completely enthralled by the stories and the way his brother told them using funny voices for the characters and acting out several of the parts.

When the story was over, Papyrus applauded, then settled down on the haversack pillow, scooting over to give Sans room. After getting into bed beside his brother, Sans made the blue bones disappear, leaving the fire to dimly light the room. He covered themselves in the fabric and lay back, Papyrus snuggling into his arms.

“Nigh nigh, Sas,” Papyrus yawned, his eyes already closed.

Sans nuzzled into his brother’s skull gently. “Night, Pap.”

 -

 After breakfast on the third morning, Sans felt confident that Papyrus was well enough for a small foraging excursion. Papyrus had regained all his lost HP with food, and had even gained extra HP from sleeping the prior night, now being at 120 HP. It appeared that sleep on full HP really gained monsters extra, and was not just part of Sans’ strange, new condition. It was something that probably had happened to Sans and Papyrus their whole life, but they had never noticed—and being playful children getting scrapes and bruises all the time, it probably didn’t happen often enough.

Sans was extremely pleased with his own HP after two nights of great sleep. He was at 80 HP now, and felt much stronger for it. If he was careful enough, he’d surpass his old 250 HP in a few weeks.

Sans removed all but two of the warming racks, since Papyrus no longer needed the constant flow of warmed fabrics. He kept the two highest—one on each boulder—and the absence of the lower bones made getting around the fire room much easier. He wanted at least two bones for warming so they could warm up and dry out their clothes after trips outside in the snow.

Sans helped Papyrus put on his shoes as they sat on the bed. Then Sans stood up and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head.

“Ok, shoes, done. Scarf next, but first...,” he winked at his brother. “Stay right here.”

Papyrus watched curiously as Sans disappeared into the fire room, then emerged with his hands behind his back.

Sans stood in front of him, grinning widely. “Since you’re so helpful to me when we forage, you’re going to need—” he pulled out what he was hiding, holding it out, “—this.”

Papyrus gasped long and slowly in awe, his eyes growing wide.

It was a small shoulder bag. Sans had made it from the grey scrap of fabric. While Papyrus had been sleeping, he worked on making it for him. He had punched holes along all the edges of the fabric square with an arrowhead and threaded two long ropes through the holes—one rope circling through on one side, the other on the opposing side, so the ends of one rope were on the direct opposite side of the other—and tied the ends. When the ropes were pulled from their middles, they folded and gathered the fabric into a bag-like pouch, the ropes becoming two long straps.

He had learned the technique from his mother, who loved to show him how to craft things. Sans knew the bag wasn’t perfect because he didn’t have shears or better materials, but he was proud of it anyway.

Papyrus, completely stunned by the amazing surprise, put out a tiny hand and touched it. Sans grinned and put the rope straps over Papyrus’ shoulder. Papyrus slid off the bed slowly, gripping the rope and smoothing the bag out as it lay against his hip, his mouth unable to close in his awe. He stuck his tiny hand in the opening and felt around in the space. He picked it up to look closer, and, noticing the color, turned to Sans’ grey haversack on the bone coat hook. He pointed at it excitedly and looked up at Sans.

“That’s right,” Sans answered, smiling wide. “Just like mine.”

Papyrus hugged the precious gift—his first ever bag of his own—then hugged Sans even harder.

Sans hugged him back, nuzzling into the top of his brother’s head. “You’re welcome. I’m so glad you like it.”

Sans got his jacket, haversack, and Papyrus’ scarf off the coat hooks and wrapped the scarf on his brother, who couldn’t stop admiring his new bag. Sans put on his jacket and shouldered the haversack, then looked down at Papyrus.

“Ready?”

Papyrus nodded eagerly, clutching his bag preparedly.

Grinning, Sans rubbed the top of his brother’s head, then went through the opening to dig out the entrance, followed by Papyrus. Sans sealed the entrance with snow and stood up, wiping his hands on his jacket. Then the two skeletons went off, hand in hand, into the valley to forage.

[byunkinks]

Valentine’s Day w/ Wooyoung!

Wooyoung/Female Reader 

Kinks: lingerie, teasing, cumming inside (dw reader’s on birth control practice safe sex with ur boyfriends kids), daddy kink

This was the best Valentine’s Day, ever.

It was cheesy and romantic and cute, and it kind of grossed you out, but you’d let him do everything. Candles, chocolates, silk sheets and all. It was Valentine’s Day after all, and you couldn’t resist his pout when he’d suggested the idea.

When you came home from work, you weren’t expecting all of this, though. Yeah, maybe a little overdoing it -- Wooyoung was a hopeless romantic, after all, and he tended to overdo the cheesy part of things -- but this…

I mean, he’d dressed up half of your apartment. Banners and balloons and red roses and a red tablecloth on the cheap IKEA dining table (since when had you owned a red tablecloth?) And he’d dressed up himself too, wearing your favorite cologne and a button up.

   Before you could say something, Wooyoung swept you off your feet, tipping you like a dancer and kissing you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

  Just the extravagance of it all had you laughing and made you feel full of butterflies. Yeah, it was lame, but it was so wholly Wooyoung to do something as extra as this.

   He smiled at you as he lifted you up from the kiss. “Do you like it?” He asked, something sultry in his voice. God, he smelled good too, and he’d styled up his hair for you.

You giggled, kissing him again. “Yes, I love it so much.”

It looked like you’d jumped into a red velvet cupcake. He’d really gone all out for you, and it was amazing. The house smelled delicious with the ridiculous amount of candles he’d lit and you appreciated all the little details.

The meal he’d cooked you was phenomenal as well, which you suspected he may have had some help with -- Wooyoung was a bit of a mess in that area. But you didn’t say a word, enjoying the romantic evening for your boyfriend: how cute his laugh sounded, how his eyes smiled when he did, how he didn’t let go of your hand. But he did seem awfully impatient.

Eventually, you played into whatever game he was playing. “Is there something else you wanted to show me, Wooyoungie?”

He practically jumped at your words. “Yes!”

You followed him into the bedroom and holy fuck. He’d scattered rose petals on your bed, even lighting candles in your shared room. And on top of all of that, there was a gorgeous set of red, lacy lingerie sitting on top of the bed for you.

   “Babe, oh my god.” You said, staring wide-eyed at him.

     He looked elated, grabbing both of your hands. “Do you like it!”

He was like an excited puppy, smiling so wide. “Yes, I love it so much, babe.” You said, wrapping your arms around him.

His happy aura diminished for a moment and he bit his lip, pausing. He was almost shy. “Can you put it on for me?”

      You laughed. “Of course, babe.”

             Wooyoung left for a couple moments while you undressed, removing the majority of the jewelry you wore to work, then your clothes, eventually changing into the lingerie. You checked yourself out in the full body mirror, appreciating how good you felt and how hot you looked. God, he had taste.

You heard a knock on the door and Wooyoung poked his head in. “Baby, are you dressed?” He asked, his hand covering his eyes.

“Yes.” You said, turning around as he removed the hand covering his eyes.

     When he saw you, immediately the atmosphere changed. Wooyoung quickly had his hands on your hips and his mouth on your neck. “God, you look so fucking good, babygirl.”

        You blushed, trying to squirm out of his grasp so you could touch him, too, but he was already scooping you up, bridal-style, making you shriek with surprise. He carried you over to the bed, brushing the rose petals away and lying you down. You were surprised by his sudden forwardness after his earlier shyness, but didn’t complain as he began planting kisses on your neck, your collarbones, your shoulders.

He was getting handsier too, his hand trailing to your thighs.

“Wait, I almost forgot.” He said, separating himself from you. You already missed his warmth as he crossed the room to grab something hidden in his bedside drawer. After rustling for moment, he found what he was looking for, his hand holding red silk ties.

“For my babygirl.” He said. Wooyoung’s eyes were beginning to glaze over with lust. “You really do look so fucking good, baby.”

Wooyoung’s nimble hands unclipped and removed the lovely bra, tossing it aside with no mind. Your nipples became hard exposed to the cold air in the bedroom. He began to bind your wrists and ankles to the headboard and baseboard with the silk. Wooyoung was more the handcuffs type, and you appreciated the sensation of the smooth, cold fabric on your wrists.

“Spread your legs farther, angel.” He said, his voice soft and sweet like honey. You did as you were told, savoring in the feeling of his hands tying you down.

“Wooyoung--” you said, and for a moment, flinched. He didn’t like to be called anything but daddy in the bedroom, but this time, he didn’t say anything, busy with his work.

“Yes, baby?”

“How will you be able to take the panties off if my legs are tied?” You asked, and he chuckled under his breath.

“You don’t need to worry about that, love.” He said, finishing his work. You didn’t understand what he meant, but didn’t bother to ask again, as he quickly returned to you, his mouth hot and teasing at your clothed pussy, making you needier.

“D-daddy--” You stuttered, and Wooyoung looked up for a moment to smile at you from between your legs.

“You’re so beautiful, babygirl. I just love how you look.”

He rested his hands on either side of you and began to move upwards from your thighs, kissing and marking your hips, your stomach, little love bites that turned into full on hickeys, dark marks that wouldn’t fade for several days.  The whole way he was praising you, telling you how beautiful you looked, how much he loved you, how happy he was to be with you.

You could see the clock on the far wall and realized how late it was, nearing almost midnight. The two of you had wasted so much time just talking and laughing, and you hadn’t noticed. He’d been an awfully good boyfriend that night.

Wooyoung eventually moved onto your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth, teasing with his tongue and drawing a loud whine from you. He kept teasing your nipple and you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter between your legs, more and more desperate for him to just get on with it already.

But he didn’t get on with it. He kept kissing around your breasts and on them, teasing both of your nipples with his skilled tongue.

You fisted a hand in his hair as the ache between your legs grew. You were practically soaking now, dripping through your pretty panties. You wanted him inside you so bad, you were close to begging for it,  but you knew that Wooyoung wasn’t much to give into your pleads when he took his time with you like this. So all you could do for the time being was whimper and squirm under his hot mouth, desperate for more.

Wooyoung kept up with his surge of compliments as well, praising how good you sounded, telling you how hard he was for you, which made you even needier. Being naked with your boyfriend fully clothed drove you absolutely crazy… you wanted him inside you so badly.

The wall clock made a loud sound when the time hit midnight, marking how long you’d been tortured by pleasure underneath your boyfriend’s gorgeous mouth, your pussy aching.

Wooyoung stopped for a moment, the pleasure immediately dissipating and drawing a whine out of you.

“I can’t take it anymore.” He said, and you were confused, not knowing what in the hell he was talking about. “I wanted to spoil you but baby, god, I want to fucking ruin you and I can’t wait anymore--”

Just hearing his voice get so dark and so hot made your stomach flip.

“Daddy--” you choked out, your voice a half moan with the amount of arousal you were feeling. He came back to you with a fervor, taking the waistband of the beautiful panties into his mouth and pulling hard. You heard a tearing sound and observed Wooyoung with a scrap of the red lace hanging in his teeth. His eyes were dark with lust.

So much for the panties, you thought, disappointed but unbelievably aroused by his forcefulness. You wanted to say something, but your sentence was strangled by a moan as he pushed the rest of the torn panties aside and licked at your opening, separating your labia to get access to your sensitive clit. He was fast with his tongue, circling your clit with his tongue. His skilled tongue teased you, drawing the filthiest moans from your mouth. You were aching with need and his stimulation was almost too much, his desperation obvious.

You laced your fingers through his hair again, tugging slightly, signing to him along with your moans that he was doing everything right. Despite trying to keep your hips still, they jerked slightly under the skill of his mouth, your moans getting more and more desperate.

“Daddy, I’m close--” you whined, and he stopped promptly, smiling at you as he licked his lips.

“You taste so fucking good, babygirl.” God, his fucking voice made your core ache.

You whined another daddy and struggled against your restraints as he stepped away from you, removing his shirt awfully slow and his pants even slower. You were throbbing with desperation and whining like a slut, desperate for Wooyoung to give you more of something, anything. Wooyoung pulled off his boxers, his hard cock springing free, and just the sight of it made you ache. “Daddy, need you inside, please--”

He wrapped his hand around his length, squeezing softly and moaning. “Babygirl, you can’t imagine how bad I want you.”

A bratty part of you almost said something, but you refrained from pushing him any further, desperate to be touched again.

“Daddy--”

“Beg for it.” Fuck. He was so fucking hot, his cock and his beautiful body so far away and the restraints keeping you from doing anything about it made you feel like you were going to lose your mind.

“Daddy, please, I need you inside of me.” You whined, and he shook his head.

“More.”

“Daddy, please, it aches so badly I’m going to lose my mind please please I need you inside of me right now--” Your words blurred together and you lost track of yourself in the begging, desperate for him.

Wooyoung smiled. “Anything for my princess.”

He got back on the bed and positioned himself at your entrance. He was just far away enough that you couldn’t squirm your hips to get any of him, and for a moment he stayed still, teasing you.

“Daddy--” you began to complain but he was already pushing himself inside of you, not bothering to take it slowly, sinking into your wet heat with a loud moan, his hands anchored to your hips. You cried out, feeling so goddamn full and stretching around his thick cock. He felt so good, bare inside you.

“Babygirl, you’re so fucking good, oh fuck--” He said. He pulled himself out again, the emptiness sensation shocking you into a whine within seconds. But he thrusted in quickly, hard, angling himself to hit your sensitive spot, savoring the loud moan you made as he fucked you. “Still so tight for me, babygirl. You’re so fucking wet.”

He kept repeating the same movement, pulling out until he was almost completely out of you, then thrusting back in, each time causing you to make louder and louder sounds. Eventually his thrusts became more regular, slow at first, adjusting to the position you two were in, but getting faster and faster.

You clenched around him, feeling your orgasm growing closer and closer, and Wooyoung getting louder with each thrust. “Babygirl, fuck--”

You loved his voice when he called you babygirl.

“Daddy, I’m close--” You said, making dirtier and dirtier sounds, caring less and less about how noisy you sounded.

“Fuck, slut, I’m so close.” His words made your hips jerk to try and get more of him, and his thrusts got even faster, more desperate, more erratic. “Slut, you’re such a good fucking little whore.”

You responded noisily to his degradation, the wave of your orgasm building behind your eyes. “Daddy, gonna cum,” you cried.

“Ask permission.” He said, almost a grunt as he fucked harder and harder into you.

“Daddy, may I please cu-um?” Your stutter broken by a thrust to your sensitive spot.

“Yes, whore. Cum for me.”

You didn’t need much more, your orgasm hitting you unbelievably hard, your muscles clenching around Wooyoung’s cock. Apparently, it was all he needed too, and he moaned loud, thrusting hard into you and cumming inside of your pussy. You saw stars as you rode out your orgasm, Wooyoung still fucking into you as he rode out his.

Wooyoung pulled out of you, resting his head on your exposed stomach. “Fuck, that was so good, baby.” He said, breathing heavily.

You laid there in your post-orgasm haze, savoring the feeling of Wooyoung’s thick cum dripping out of you.

This was, by far, the best Valentine’s day ever.