#contrasting nosing for stairs
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Black Aluminium Stair Nosing - Sydney Stair Nosing
What is the installation process like?
The installation process for black aluminium stair nosing may vary slightly depending on the specific product and manufacturer. However, here are some general tips and instructions that can help guide you through the installation process:
Prepare the Steps: Before installing the stair nosing, ensure that the steps are smooth, sturdy, and clean. Remove any loose dirt, debris, or obstructions from the surface of the steps.
Measure Carefully: Measure the length of each step carefully and double-check your measurements before cutting the stair nosing. It is crucial to ensure accurate measurements to achieve a proper fit.
Cut the Stair Nosing: Using appropriate tools, cut the black aluminium stair nosing to the measured length. Follow the manufacturer's instructions for cutting the nosing to ensure a clean and precise cut.
Apply Adhesive: Apply an adhesive suitable for the specific stair nosing product to the back of the nosing. Make sure to use an adhesive that is recommended by the manufacturer to ensure proper adhesion.
Position and Secure: Press the stair nosing firmly onto the step, aligning it with the edge of the step. If the stair nosing has pre-drilled fixing holes, use screws to secure it in place. Follow the manufacturer's instructions for the specific installation method.
Repeat the Process: Repeat the above steps for each step of the staircase until you have installed the black aluminium stair nosing on all the steps.
It is important to note that building codes and regulations may vary, so it is advisable to research and follow the specific requirements for your location and application. If you are unsure about the installation process or have any concerns, it is recommended to consult a professional for assistance.
Remember to always refer to the manufacturer's instructions and guidelines for the specific black aluminium stair nosing product you are using, as they may provide additional or more detailed installation instructions.
#contrasting nosing for stairs#yellow stair nosing sydney#50mm stair nosing#laminate stairs nosing#staircase nosings sydney#commercial stair nosings#stainless steel stair nosings#wooden stair nosings#nosing edge trim
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What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?
ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k
Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy.
"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"
"Do you know why Y/N's upset?"
"You don't? You're the expert."
Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question.
"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test."
"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums."
"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–"
"Lovely?"
"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."
Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him.
"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully.
Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done.
"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did."
"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up."
Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't."
Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."
Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down.
"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry."
"Why didn't you answer my texts?"
He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you."
You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."
"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…"
Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope.
"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.
"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth.
"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose."
"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine."
Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather."
The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing.
You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress."
You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years.
It only feels like years.
When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern.
"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath.
"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault."
"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone."
"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this."
"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain."
"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly.
Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you."
"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."
Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips.
"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips.
"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart."
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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Cruel Summer | Felix Catton
Your mother's money issues make it hard for you to enjoy your summer at Saltburn. Thankfully your cousin is there to comfort you. But what happens when you realize his interest in you isn't just familial concern?
Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Start! Reader, Incest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Corruption, Innocent Reader, Drugs, Smoking, Filming
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
Your eyes round as they absorb the massive castle and the vast, lush gardens surrounding it. As you drag your suitcase behind you, you can’t quell the urge to admire everything. Even the towering, perfectly symmetrical trees lining the path to the iron gates. It’s been years since you visited Saltburn, but you don’t remember it being so big or intimidating.
Still, you bask in the chirping of birds and the brightness of the sky above you. You’re compelled to admit it. The English countryside is lovely, a haven away from the pollution and noise of the city. A sharp contrast to the familiar chaos you’re used to back home. The uproar of traffic, from the honking to the shouting. The endless stream of people strutting down the streets. The gigantic ads and the skyscrapers that graze the stars.
A city that never rests or stops for anyone.
While this is home, it all can be so overwhelming. There never is time to just…breathe and be. Here, as you look at your surroundings, you figure it’s all there is to do. Breathe and be.
You push the small iron door on the side, astonished to find it ajar. Did they leave it open for you? You doubt it however. From what Mom told you, consideration for others isn’t one of your aunt and uncle’s strong suits. They’re too wrapped up in their “posh little world”. One your mom isn’t a part of anymore. And neither are you, as you’ve been raised overseas.
As for your brother…well he’s another matter. Shipped from school to school thanks to Uncle James’ “bottomless well of generosity”, he is a free spirit. Seas apart from you in every possible way.
Ever since you were young, the pressure to succeed has gripped you tight and never released you. When others partied and experimented, you were nose deep in your books, stressing over finishing every assignment on time and acing every test. It paid off. You were accepted into your school of choice this summer, with a scholarship no less.
Slacking off isn’t an option for you.
While your brother has a sort of safety net, you’re not so close with that side of your family. You’re their estranged American niece, one they haven’t seen in over a decade.
In fact, you’ve no idea how you’ll be received.
The long walk to the castle is harrowing but gives you time to comb through your memories. You were so little the last time you visited. Still, foggy remembrance floods your thoughts. You played with your cousins by the pond. Made up stories and ran around the fields. You even faintly recall skinning your knees when one of them dared you to try and climb all the way to the top of the stone stairs beneath the stained glass window. You slipped for a long time and wept on the floor, you think. Auntie Elspeth scolded her children and you for playing dangerous games.
Their cherubic faces flicker in your mind.
There were two of them.
A little boy with dark hair and a gummy smile. A blonde girl who giggled all the time. And of course, your brother.
When you’ve reached the castle’s front door, you suck in a wide breath. Before you can even knock on the tall, black doors, they swing open in front of you.
A surprised exhale spills from your throat.
Swallowing, you fall back.
Hands behind his back, a stern man in a suit runs his gaze over you. He is so still, for a minute, you wonder if he’s real.
But then he speaks. “Are you lost, miss?” he asks.
You shift, a surge of inadequacy filling you. Still, you clear your throat and give a tremulous answer.
“Hi. I…I’m here to visit my family.”
The man doesn’t budge, still pinning you with his unflinching stare. Sweat breaks out on your back. Are you at the right place?
“The Cattons,” you offer, an awkward smile stretching your lips. “My brother should already be here.” You start rummaging through your backpack to pull out a map. “This is Saltburn, right? Auntie Elspeth sent me the itinerary but perhaps I-”
He cuts you off, seeming almost annoyed with you.
“Right, you’re…earlier than we expected, Ms. Start.”
“I could come back later-”
“The gates aren’t open. We’d have sent someone to pick you up.”
You glance back, dumbfounded. The gates were definitely open, weren’t they? Or perhaps that little door wasn’t supposed to be crossed. Your cheeks flame. The elaborate rules your wealthy relatives abide by are already eluding you.
Your shoulders heave and fall.
“It’s okay, it wasn’t that long a walk.”
The man stiffly allows you in. You note the two black men standing by the door. They haven’t uttered a single word, blending into the background. Always seen but never heard. You believe your brother mentioned something like that in his sporadic texts and letters. Your gaze tears from them. The inside of Saltburn is even more majestic, a thing you didn’t think possible. Standing in a museum wouldn’t be much different, you suppose, between the antiques sitting on shelves, paintings hanging on the walls and crystal chandeliers hovering above you.
So, this is what generational wealth looks like.
When you were little, you didn’t notice this. You were too busy playing. Now, it’s all you can see.
“Just leave your bag there. Someone will get it for you,” the man says.
“Someone, as in…”
“Someone,” he repeats, staunchly refusing to elaborate.
The grip on the handle of your suitcase tightens.
“I really don’t need it. I can carry it myself.”
The man considers you, his face twitching as if you just spat in it. Your insides stir in confusion. All you’ve said is that you don’t mind carrying your own luggage.
The loud utterance of your name has your head snapping sideways.
Your mouth falls open when a towering, young man in a yellow shirt around your age strides in your direction.
He halts in front of the stern man, chiding him with a playful lilt in his tone.
“Really Duncan? You’re scaring the poor girl. Duncan, stop being so terrifying. She’s family.”
“Well, I shall try.”
You note the subtle warmth in the man’s tone as he addresses the newcomer.
He turns to you, beaming. Your stomach flutters. “Cousin, try not to be too terrified of Duncan.”
You’re taken aback when he grabs the hand gripping the suitcase. His large hand completely engulfs yours.
“I’ll show her to her room. Don’t worry,” he chimes. He pulls you away and you’re forced to keep up with his long, enthusiastic strides. He tosses you a glance, laughing when you sort of hop behind him. “Sorry about that. Duncan’s a bit odd, but he’s alright, you’ll see.”
“And you are…?”
Disappointment creeps on his face at your question. He spreads a hand over his chest.
“Felix, your cousin. Golly, you don’t remember me? Really? That kind of hurts.”
Your eyes grow. The picture in your mind was that of a chubby-cheeked, clumsy little boy. Your cousin definitely isn’t that anymore.
“Oh my god, yes! Felix. You don’t have a lisp anymore and…You’re like a giant now.”
A smug expression lights his features.
“Puberty.”
You laugh in response. “Yeah, I guess we all grew up.”
A strange glint fleets across his gaze as he gives you a quick once over.
“Clearly,” he says, his smile expanding.
He shows you around the estate. You can’t suppress your awe when he mentions Henry VIII, surprised Saltburn’s history stretches that far back. The library also radiates ancient and priceless, countless rare leather-bound books sitting on the shelves. A smile creeps on your face when Felix greets the ghost of your grandmother.
He takes you through a vertiginous amount of hallways until taking you to what will be your room. It’s apparently right next to Venetia’s. You glance around, expecting another long lost cousin to pop up perhaps. But it’s just you and Felix in the vast bedroom.
He leans against the doorjamb while you soak in the room and the massive bed, large enough to welcome three or four people. It’s nothing like your tiny bed at home or the one in your college dorm. This is something you never had, and that is just Felix and Venetia’s normal. It makes you speechless.
You drop your backpack on the floor at the foot of the bed.
The mattress bounces as you plop down on it. You let your fingers skim over the blissfully soft sheets.
Your contemplation is abbreviated by the ringing of your phone. You flip it open. The screen lights up, signaling a new message received. You type on the glowing arrows to find out it’s from Mom.
Remember to ask your aunt and uncle for what we talked about.
I really need you, sweetie.
You unleash a heavy breath. Your mom is the one who pressured you to go on this trip. Ever since her brother’s regular payments have dried up, your mother’s been relentless. She keeps claiming she wants her share of the trust and your uncle argues that she used all of it. First, she recruited Farleigh to speak on her behalf. Your brother’s attempts have met little success however. So your mother enlisted you.
You don’t know what more you can do that your brother couldn’t, but you can never say no to anything your mother asks.
“Is something wrong?” Felix inquires, making his way to your bed to sit near you. The scent of his pricey cologne tingles your nose.
“It's nothing,” you lie. “Just Mom asking if my arrival’s been smooth.”
Your cousin seems like the living embodiment of sunshine, just like you remember. If possible, you want to keep him out of the money issues between your mom and Uncle James.
Felix tilts his head as he studies you.
“It’s kinda funny.”
“What?”
“The way you say ‘mum’”
A laugh peals from your lips.
“I guess I’m gonna have to get used to my accent being made fun of.”
Felix shrugs. “My mum will think it’s exotic.”
You cringe inside. You never liked that word, how it makes you feel like an animal in a zoo.
Switching topics, you ask, “Is my brother around? I haven’t seen him in forever.”
“Ah, Farleigh’s probably skulking about somewhere.”
You chew on your bottom lip. “I don’t know what to say to him.”
Felix collects the book poking through the zipper of your backpack. He flips through the stained pages of your copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood prince. You accidentally spilled coffee on it during a late night study session.
“You could talk to him about this,” he offers, waving the book. “We’ve kind of been passing around Venetia’s copy. Although I tend to skip to the most interesting parts, but don’t tell everyone else.”
You smile.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” you reply solemnly.
He watches you for a long time, long enough for your gaze to find the floor as your face heats.
“It’s really good having you here with us, cousin. I mean it.”
You fidget in your spot. “Thanks.”
Felix flashes you a mischievous grin.
“But I’ll need to make sure you remember me this time.”
The rest of the day is spent reconnecting with your other relatives. Everyone gathers in the library and you get to meet Venetia, realizing she too has changed a lot since you were kids.
Oliver, Felix’s friend from Oxford is also there. From your cousin’s broad explanations, it appears he’s grieving the loss of one of his parents, so he invited him to make sure he isn’t alone. It’s unbelievably kind. Besides, you’re guessing from Oliver’s lost puppy dog stares and awkward manners, that he’s as out of place as you are here. Instant sympathy blooms inside you when you’re introduced to him.
A woman named Pamela is also in attendance. She is Aunt Elpseth’s close friend, though it’d be hard to tell, the way she orders her around like a servant and exposes the long list of tragedies her love life has been to the entire room.
A saying about friends and enemies flutters through your mind as you witness their interactions. It’s such a bizarre spectacle, watching this red-haired woman, dead behind the eyes, bend over backwards for your aunt. You don’t remember Aunt Elspeth being this cold-blooded.
And naturally, there is your brother. Farleigh. Aloof in the back, apart from the Cattons, your eyes collide from across the room. He smiles at you. You smile back. Warmth flows through you.
It’ll be a while before you’re comfortable around each other again. It pains you to say, but you don’t know your own brother all that well anymore.
Dinner’s a strangely formal affair. Everyone’s dressed to the nines, giving the family gathering more of a cocktail party vibe than that of a family dinner. Venetia lends you a dress so you aren’t the odd one out. You thank her profusely. All you packed when you left America are jeans and a few pairs of shorts. It never occurred to you that you’d need any kind of formal wear since you figured you would be around family.
But you failed to take into account said family is also a part of British high society.
Awkwardness fills you as you hesitate over the utensils, the different kinds of knives and forks making you dizzy. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself on the first day. Seeming to grasp your predicament, Venetia nudges your elbow when you grip the right fork and knife.
You mutter a quiet ‘thanks’ and she winks at you.
Several courses are brought on silver platters, one after the other. The entire time, you focus on your plate, swallowing every bland, flavorless bite.
Stiff conversation is exchanged at the table, most of it centering on Aunt Elspeth’s dour-looking friend. Once more, compassion flutters through you.
It’s blatant to everyone at the table that Pamela isn’t wanted at Saltburn anymore.
It’s a relief when dinner concludes and you can return to your bedroom.
You sit by the large window in your room to admire the night sky. Between the skyscrapers and artificial lights, it’s hard finding a spot to look at the stars in New York. Here however, you can make out constellations and various other glittering shapes.
Venetia joins you on the windowsill. She takes a long drag of her cigarette and blows smoke on the window. She shoots you a cheeky smile.
“So, do you regret coming already?” she teases.
You fiddle with your hands.
“It’s fine. Everyone’s nice. It’s…kind of unreal being here.”
“Just remember this is your home too.”
You mull it over. It is becoming clear to you how much you don’t fit in with the Cattons, despite sharing blood with them. You wonder if it’s how your brother has felt all these years. Like an outsider amidst his own kin. Although, you have to admit he looked quite comfortable at dinner. Far more than you, definitely.
“I’ll…try to remember that.” You hesitate, gnawing on your lip before speaking again. “Is Pamela gonna be okay, you think?”
Venetia shrugs.
“I think she’ll be alright.”
Your lips purse. Who knows how that haunted woman will fare once she’s on her own in the world again? You’re not too hopeful. But it seems like Aunt Elspeth is done with her, so it cannot be helped you suppose.
“If you say so.” You tilt your head at your cousin, dropping casually. “Do you think Uncle James is still up?”
“At this hour, Daddy will be in his study.”
You nod and get to your feet. Wandering the halls of Saltburn at night is a peculiar experience. The shadows clinging to the walls seem to follow your every step. Dusty slices of moonlight spill from the windows, bringing the stern portraits of your distant relatives to life, the aged hues of the paintings shifting in the dim light. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you're being watched. The back of your neck tingles as the sound of your fearful steps echoes in the vast halls. A breeze of cool air seeps through your clothes. You tug on the cardigan Venetia let you borrow from her closet, hurrying your pace.
For a long time, you spin in circles, growing desperate to find your uncle’s study. Your spirits sour. You followed Venetia’s instructions to the letter yet you got lost. A left, a right, straight along the green room, then…another right?
You frown. Now you can’t remember. Why does every hallway look the same here?
Astray in your own mind, you carelessly bump into a hard object.
You lift your gaze. Your jaw drops.
“Felix,” you exclaim, placing a hand over your heaving chest. “You scared me.”
Mirth glints in his brown orbs.
“Lost, cousin?”
Avoiding his eyes, you scratch your am.
“Well, this is embarrassing,” you mumble.
Felix chuckles and seizes your arm.
“It’s not. It’s easy to get lost here.” You gasp as he pulls you alongside him. “Just tell me where you need to go and I’ll show you the way.”
Too dumbstruck by his abrupt appearance, you let Felix drag you through the somber hallways. The sharp twists and turns he takes make your head spin. There is no way you’d have found the study on your own.
He halts in front of two mahogany doors. Your feet bounce as your hand lingers on the brass handles.
Felix knocks on the door and your heart leaps.
“I’ll wait for you here, so you don’t get lost again,” he says.
“You don’t have to,” you squeak.
He leans over you and smiles.
“I insist, cousin. I have to prove to you not all of us are completely horrible…despite what you may have seen.”
Your face warms.
“T-Thank you.”
James’ voice rises from inside the room, giving you permission to enter. You nod at Felix and take shaky steps inside the study. The crackle of logs burning away reaches you. The swaying flames mingle with the shadows, casting a faint orange glow on the room.
“Uncle James, may I speak to you?” you bashfully inquire.
He lowers his round glasses and puts down the notebook in his hands.
“Of course. Anytime, love. Have a seat.”
“Is something troubling you, child?”
You gulp the lump stuck in your throat, staring at your lap for a while before you meet your uncle’s gaze again. You shift in your seat.
You don’t know how to ask or, more precisely, the appropriate way to ask. A wide lungful enters your lungs. Why delay the inevitable?
You elect to dive right into your reason to be here.
“My mother. Well, she was wondering…” Your nerves buzz as your uncle’s sharp eyes cut into you. You clear your throat before continuing. “We were wondering if there were issues on your side because she hasn’t…” Sweat blooms inside your palms as your voice dwindles to a whisper. “Well, you haven’t sent anything like you usually do and it’s been two months now.”
A heavy coat of silence falls over the study. After a while, your uncle unleashes a deep sigh.
“And she sent you to vouch for her.”
“I’m sorry.” Your shoulders slump. “Mom, she…She isn’t really good with money.” This is a massive understatement, and from the way Uncle James’ eyes bear into yours, it’s clear that he’s also aware of that fact. As much as you love your mom, she’s never been the most responsible with money, often squandering it on flashy things and pretty clothes. More than once growing up, she fell short on a bill and you couldn’t even shower before going to school. “If you could help this one time, then I’ll figure something out for her. I promise.”
“And how do you plan on doing that, young lady?” your uncle challenges.
“I…I’ll find a way. We always find a way.”
“You’re a very good daughter, which I can appreciate…” Your pulse races as you wait with bated breath. “But I’ve given your mother more than enough for her to get on her feet. Still, she always asks for more.”
Your heart plummets. The finality laced in his tone didn’t elude you. Why did you even think you could sway your uncle’s opinion in any way when your own brother, who has been around the Cattons for years, couldn’t accomplish that feat?
“She has issues…but I promise, uncle, she’ll get herself together this time,” you offer.
“I will give it some thought.”
He flashes you a sympathetic smile. You recognize its meaning right away. It’s strikingly similar to the one Aunt Elspeth gave her “friend” at the dinner table.
Understanding you are being dismissed, you get up from the chair and bid your uncle good night.
“Thank you for listening,” you say glumly before leaving.
As Felix escorts you back to your bedroom, you can’t help but notice that Uncle James never once referred to your mother as his sister.
You frankly doubt he will give what you said any semblance of thought. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if that entire conversation vanished from his head the second you stepped out of his study.
The rest of the week goes smoothly. Lazy summer days with your cousins and brother fly by in a hazy blur. Hanging by the pond beneath the sizzling sun. Displaying your terrible tennis playing skills to the entire group. Scary movie nights with the whole family during which Venetia and Felix laugh at you because you watch most of the film through your fingers and hide your face in a pillow whenever the monster appears.
It’s nice. You start thinking that reuniting with your extended family for the summer wasn’t such a rotten idea.
You nearly forget your mother. Nearly.
Though with the daily messages you receive detailing the squalor she’s living in, it’s impossible to forget. Guilt grows within you each day.
“She’s been texting you too?” Farleigh asks as he sits at the edge of the tennis court next to you. He’s still in his tux while you’re still wearing one of Venetia’s sparkly dresses, as all of you decided to sneak out of Aunt Elspeth’s uptight dinner party to catch the sunset and play a game of tennis. One thing you’ve come to learn about your cousins. They do whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want. Part of you envies that. The carefree knowledge that whatever mess you make, someone will clean up behind you…discreetly and in silence at that.
You flip your phone shut and sigh.
“Nonstop.” You sag in the chair. “I’ve done all I can.”
“Yeah…Me too.”
“I feel awful.”
You’re taken aback when your brother says, “Don’t. This isn’t your fault.”
You tentatively reach over his armchair to squeeze his hand.
“It’s not yours either,” you assure softly. Your brother shocks you when his fingers wrap around yours. You don’t think you held hands like this since you were toddlers. You were always the clingy one, following after your big brother like a lost puppy.
You and your brother remain like this for a while, eyes trailing the downward race of the sun over the horizon.
When night falls, you’re surprised to find a tall, familiar form slipping through the wall of your bedroom.
“Felix!” He puts a finger over his lips as a sign to lower your voice. It instantly dips to a whisper. “How did you get here?”
Amusement paints Felix’s features at your flabbergasted expression. He clicks the door shut.
You blink. Once closed, the secret entrance blends seamlessly into the wall. There is no way you could have known this was here.
“Secret passageway. Old castles like Saltburn have plenty of them,” he explains, crawling over your bed.
“Oh.”
As your eyes drag over his frame and you note that Felix’s just in his shorts, fire creeps inside your cheeks. Of course, you’ve seen your cousin in trunks but usually, it’s around the entire group. For some reason, a sliver of discomfort pools within you. You look away and clear your throat.
“Is it…okay for you to be here?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just that…nothing.”
A deep chuckle peals from his chest. The mattress bounces as Felix lets himself fall onto your sheets. He makes himself comfortable on the pillow near you, putting his hands behind his head as a lazy smile spreads on his lips.
“Don’t be silly. We’re family. It’s like when we were little and we’d all sleep in the same bed.”
You can’t help but smile at that. He’s right; you’re overreacting.
“Right. That was so fun.”
He lies on his side, elbow bent as he buries one hand in his tousled brown curls.
“You used to have nightmares so you’d always sneak into my bed or Farleigh’s.”
“Now that you’re saying it, I think I remember that.”
“You’re still as cute as I remember.” Felix’s brown eyes twinkle as he drinks you in. “No…Even cuter.”
“Thanks.”
He approaches you and starts playing with the hem of your cotton shorts, twiddling the fabric between his forefinger and thumb.
Brown eyes dive right into yours.
“I saw you with Farleigh today. You looked sad.”
You shake your head.
“It’s nothing…just got some stuff on my mind.”
Felix’s smile dies.
“You also looked sad when you left Dad’s office the other day.”
You bristle. “It’s nothing important, really.”
“Your mom?” he inquires. When you don’t reply, Felix’s knuckles sweep over your outer thigh, his deep timbre softening, “You can trust me, cousin.”
You unleash a sharp, audible breath, budding tears tickling your eyelids.
“It’s just a lot. She’s asking things from me that I don’t know if I can do much about.”
Felix collects one of your stray tears with his thumb. He then snatches your hands from your lap and clutches them in his. They completely swallow yours.
“She shouldn’t ask anything of you. It’s not fair. You’re her daughter. She should protect you. Not the other way around.”
You sniffle. “I don’t know. It’s just been me and my mom for so long. Especially after Farleigh decided to stay in England most of the time. So I feel like…I need to take care of her, you know? Because she always took care of me.”
He cups your cheek, wiping more of your tears.
“You’re far too sweet for your own good, cousin.”
Felix then sits up and conjures a lighter and a blunt from the back pocket of his shorts.
You gawk at him as he lights it in front of you, taking a deep drag before blowing smoke in your face.
Your stomach tingles when he offers it to you.
“I don’t know if I should…”
Felix’s timbre lowers seductively as he grabs your hand and slips the roll between your fingers. Even holding it doesn’t feel right.
“Come on, you’ll feel better. It’ll free your mind. No thoughts. No troubles. Just…light and happy.”
“That sounds amazing,” you mumble.
“Then try a puff.”
You bring the blunt to your mouth and immediately cough.
“You gotta go slow,” he chuckles. Once you’ve retrieved your breath, he nudges it against your mouth again. “Here, another.”
The room begins to swirl around you. You lie back, a heady, cotton-like sensation spreading from your head to your toes.
“Damn…” you whisper as your limbs slacken, the tension in your body slowly melting away.
Felix lies back next to you, his grin growing.
“See? That’s why you should always listen to me, cousin.”
It becomes a habit, Felix sneaking into your room and the two of you smoking in your bed every night. Him slipping through the secret door doesn’t even faze you anymore, and your reservations about getting high evaporate a little more with every puff you inhale. The serene sensation and warm tingles you get afterwards are entirely too pleasant.
It’s something you’ve never experienced. Letting go. For a few precious minutes, the burdens on your shoulders can vanish.
You don’t tell Venetia, or even Farleigh. You still remember him going full big brother mode that one day when you tried to join the rest of them when they hung out naked in the field. The Cattons siblings laughed as you were escorted away, burning from head to toe at the humiliation.
You don’t want a repeat of that. Always being the good girl is exhausting. Not that your brother would understand. He gets to live life on his own terms. Get kicked out from as many schools as he likes. Charm his way through the world. You don’t. For once, you want to revel in doing something…a little forbidden. Something the nerdy, party-avert, studious girl you forced yourself to be all these years would never do.
So the nightly meetups become you and Felix’s secret.
It’s all casual, harmless fun. Until, one night, everything changes. As your head lolls back on the pillows, your gaze fixated on the ceiling, your cousin’s fingers dance over your half-exposed belly.
“Feeling better?” he mutters, his voice low and secretive.
“Yeah.”
“I know a way you can feel even better.”
You don’t think much of it. Not even when he slithers across the sheets, finding his way between your legs. He tugs your shorts down, slowly, until you’re down to your panties in front of him. The rush of cool air on your skin makes you tremble.
“Felix, what are you doing?” you chuckle, high enough not to fully register what’s going on.
A playful smile ghosts over your cousin’s lips. He blows on your clothed center and the sensation draws a giggle from you, even as a faint layer of panic is trying to pierce through the haze.
“You seemed so stressed today. It’ll help you relax…” he promises, trailing sluggish kisses up your inner thigh. As his lips travel upward, your stomach clenches. He hooks two fingers inside your panties to push them aside.
Your cousin’s gaze darkens, his smile broadening, as he basks in the sight of your bare, shuddering folds. He licks his lips before kissing the center of you.
Your limbs tense as Felix starts unraveling you with his tongue. He licks a stripe over your folds, his tongue tarrying over your tender bud. The breath catches in your throat. He traces slow circles over your button, tearing a soft gasp from you everytime he suckles the sensitive spot between his lips.
Felix hums while his head bobs between your thighs.
A tingly, warm feeling starts blooming in your core, scattering to your entire body. Hot and irresistible. A wave of heat that slowly takes over your entire frame.
You clutch the sheets.
Your eyes rise to the heavens as heat pulses through your core.
“No, Felix, this is… this is wrong,” you wheeze out between aching breaths.
His devious laughter ripples through your core.
“I’m just trying to make you feel good. How can that be wrong, cousin?” he says innocently, before flicking his tongue over your folds. He spreads you even more, dipping in and out of you as quiet shouts rip from your throat. Your back curves over the sheets. Your lids flutter as you peer at the ceiling unseeingly.
His sinful baritone nudges you to your undoing.
“Just let go. It’s okay. It’s just me.”
You quake, the tense heat growing too much to bear. Your insides coil. Sparks erupt from your center, traveling outward. Your body goes limp as you collapse over the sheets, dazed and breathless. Tears of arousal trickle from your core and your cousin greedily savors every wayward drop. Shame scalds your insides as you feel him lap up your nectar, your wide gaze glued to the ceiling.
The next morning, panic rushes through you as your eyes snap open.
“Hey, hey, you don’t need to freak out,” Felix says lightly, pulling you against him from behind. His hand settles over your rapidly moving chest.
“Last night…” you say, choking on a sob as you recall bits and pieces. You were so damn high. Still, you’re pretty sure what you think happened…happened. Even in your own head, you can’t put it into words. You rub your thighs. Stickiness lingers there from Felix’s ravenous tongue. Shame burns in your gut.
As you try to climb off the bed, Felix yanks you back. He slams you down on your back. Your heart jumps as he looms over you, his broad body easily caging yours.
He frames your chin, drawing your attention to him.
“We just had some fun, you and I,” he says, thumb tracing your quivering lip. “That’s all. No one ever has to know.”
Tears well up in your eyes as you keep pulling on your tiny camisole, pathetically attempting to cover your nakedness. Felix chuckles.
“Gosh, you really need to stop being so uptight, pretty cousin.”
He drops a quick peck on your cheek before dragging his lips over your earshell.
“It’s okay. We’ll work on loosening you up.”
For a few days, Felix doesn’t visit your room again. You’re thankful for that. You can barely meet your cousin’s gaze now, the fear of someone finding out what happened eating you alive. You can’t imagine coming back after so many years only to cause havoc and drama.
Your mom would be so disappointed. Your brother would be livid.
So you do as Felix says. You keep your lips firmly sealed. It’s not like it’ll go further than that anyway. The two of you were high, that’s what you keep telling yourself.
None of this would have happened otherwise.
Unfortunately, your meticulously crafted wall of denial explodes when your cousin shows up again one night.
You tremble as your eyes rest on him. Felix smiles at you, pushing the secret door closed. You note the camera dangling from his neck. The entire day was spent snapping pictures to remember the summer. You took so many silly ones with Venetia and your brother. For a while, you let yourself forget. Felix took most of the pictures today, appearing in very few himself. You just didn’t expect him to still be wearing it this late.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” you reply shyly.
“How are you feeling today?”
Your lips clamp shut. Today was awful. Apparently your mom might be getting evicted soon. She hasn’t stopped texting you about it the entire day, and even some of the night because of the time difference. You feel so dauntingly powerless…and awful. You’re staying in a literal castle while your mom might be homeless soon.
“I’m good.”
He takes lithe steps towards you, his handsome face twisting in sympathy as he plops down on your bed. He removes the camera from around his neck and tosses it over your pillows.
“No you’re not. You’re still worried about your mom. You were checking your phone all day today.”
You bring your knees close to your chest.
“It’s fine, Felix.”
Felix sighs, concern swimming in his brown gaze.
“No, it’s not fine.” His fingers roam over your ankle as he lies on his side. “You know…” Felix pauses, eyes holding yours. “I could talk to my dad if you want. He never refuses me anything.” He flashes a sunny grin. “After all, I’m his precious boy. His firstborn son.”
You gape at him.
“You really would do that for my mom?”
Felix sits up and closes the distance between the two of you. He bends over you, placing his large hands over your feet. You follow the stars tattoos etched atop his hand; his sister has the same ones if you recall.
His knees graze your ankles as he says, “Not for your mom. For you, cousin. So that frown on your face can finally…” He flicks your brow with his thumb and laughs. “...disappear. Like magic.”
You consider Felix, relief and awe storming through you.
Without giving it much thought, you toss your arms around his neck.
“Thank you so much,” you exclaim.
“Of course…” His fingers travel along your spine. “I’d just have a little favor to ask in return.”
“Sure, anything,” you answer easily.
He pulls back, lacing his fingers with yours.
“It’s not much.”
The heady scent of his cologne washes over you as he leans forward.
“I’ve been aching somewhere lately and I need you to make it better, cousin.”
“Oh, aching…where?”
“I think it’s best if I just show you.”
A foreboding inkling flares in your gut. Still, you don’t move as Felix “shows you”. He tugs on his shorts. He slowly pulls on the fabric, shimmying out of it as you hold your breath. When his length springs free, you unleash a small squeak. Your reaction drags a laugh out of Felix.
Though you don’t really want to, you can’t help but stare. It’s thick and long with veins running alongside the shaft. The tip points upward, glistening and red.
“I don’t know if I can help with…something like that,” you mumble, your voice wavering at the end.
“Sure you can.”
He lifts your chin, diving his eyes into yours.
“I just need somewhere warm, and soft, to slip the tip of my cock so it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Shock parts your lips.
“Felix…”
He hooks his thumb inside your open mouth, a lopsided grin stretching on his face.
“Come on, it’ll just be the tip, I promise. Then we never have to talk about it anymore. You won’t even feel it, I swear.”
“Just the…tip?” you say, your throat knotting as your gaze drifts down. You take in Felix’s size, swallowing thickly. It matches the rest of him, you suppose. You don’t even think it could fit, not fully. So just the tip is probably for the best. “Nothing more?”
“Just the tip. And I’ll talk to my dad first thing in the morning.” He strokes your cheek, uttering softly, “I bet your mom will be so happy for what you did for her.”
You heave out a deep, resigned breath. Right, your mom. While you’re not too comfortable with what Felix is asking for, if it means he’ll talk to Uncle James, you don’t have it in you to refuse. A favor for a favor. Then you’ll spend the rest of the summer forgetting it ever happened. You can do that.
You peer up at Felix.
“Okay then but don’t…stay too long.”
He beams at you.
“You’re amazing.”
Felix leans back. He removes his shorts fully, revealing himself in all his naked glory.
“Just lay back for me, cousin,” he instructs. He slants his head, satisfaction filling his gaze when you do as he says. “Open those perfect legs of yours.” His pupils swell with lust as you part your quivering thighs.
“Good girl,” he praises.
Felix crawls over you. You freeze. He grips the waistband of your pajama bottoms to slide them off your legs. He takes his time, agonizingly slow as he soaks in every tiny shift on your face. Horror curls your insides. You wish he’d just get it over with. But it’s clear Felix wishes to enjoy every mortifying second of this.
Your panties are next. Once again, he drags it out. Warmth blooms in your face as cool air hits your bare folds. It’s worse than last time, because there’s nothing to dull your senses, or pretend it isn’t happening.
“Don’t close your legs. I want to see everything,” he says when you try to hide from him. His throat bobs, hunger lurking in his eyes as he licks his lips. “You have a really pretty pussy, you know that, cousin?”
“Please, don’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“B-Because it’s embarrassing.”
He smirks.
“You’re so fucking cute.”
Your cousin plucks the discarded camera and points it at your face. The blinding light sears your eyelids as he quickly snaps a series of pictures of you in the compromising position.
Adrenaline pumps through your veins, your pulse soaring.
“W-Why did you just take a picture?”
“Because I want to remember you like this.”
He chortles as you try to snatch the camera from his hands, keeping it out of your reach with ease with his long arm.
“Delete it, Felix,” you plead.
He tilts his head, his expression dripping with mischief.
“Sure, if you do everything I say, I’ll delete it.”
Tears brim beneath your lashes. You want to trust Felix. You really do. But he always asks for more. You wonder where it’ll end, if it ever will.
“You promise?”
“Of course. I’d never lie to you, cousin.”
He places the camera on the floor near the bed. If you thought you could get past him, destroy the camera, you would. However you’re beginning to realize something about Felix. He always gets his way.
He crawls his way to you. You don’t resist as Felix nudges you down, trapping you beneath him. The fitful drumming of your heart fills your ears.
He bends down, stealing your lips in a heated kiss. His lips sweep over yours, hungry, feverish. He cups the side of your face, moaning as he explores your mouth. His hands start wandering over your body. They feel everywhere at once, kneading and teasing your flesh. Felix pulls your top over your head so you’re in nothing but your bra.
He deepens the kiss, his tongue stealing your air and sanity. You melt beneath him.
The air is robbed from your lungs when he starts prodding at your entrance. Your fingers clench around the sheets. His thick tip stretches you so much already. You can barely take it.
His voice comes out hoarse and strained.
“You feel so bloody good.”
He pushes a bit more. You tense, your walls aching at his size. Your tearful gaze rises to the ceiling. Felix seizes your chin, pulling it so your eyes lock with his.
“Look at me,” he instructs.
He piledrives into you, sheathing himself inside you completely. Your vision flickers as he finds the hilt of you. Your lips part in a silent scream. Your chest heaves and falls quickly.
“Felix, you said…”
He shushes you, pinning both of your wrists above your head as he begins moving inside you. A wicked glow burns in Felix’s brown gaze. “I know what I said…but it feels too good inside you, cousin.”
“But you promised...” you sob.
He kisses away your tears, his voice mellowing.
“I’m sorry,” he says after thrusting inside you deeply. “I’m so sorry…” Your toes flex, stars creeping in your sight with each of your cousin’s vigorous thrusts. His pace doesn’t relent, even as you weep and plead him with your eyes. He almost seems to pluck joy from your quiet helplessness. His chest brushes over yours as his lips ghost over your earshell. “But I don’t think I can stop.”
Your breathing quickens. As Felix’s cock grazes along your sensitive spots, little whimpers spill from your throat. He drapes one hand over your mouth, still pounding inside you.
“Shh, be quiet for me, cousin. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, right?”
“I think our uncle likes you better than me.”
You look at your brother through your sunglasses. You’re thankful for them. They’ve done a nice job concealing the puffiness of your eyes. You’ve been crying a lot lately. Too often. It started the night Felix snuck into your room and the flood hasn’t really stopped since. All of it turns your stomach. The lying, the sneaking around…the sick, twisted lies. His sick, twisted lies. It was supposed to just be one time.
Felix deceived you.
Every night since that one, your cousin found his way into your room, coaxing you to do things that make you hate yourself afterwards. It’s even slowly escalated to daily trysts. Felix would conjure excuses to steal you away while your other relatives are blissfully unaware. Having his way with you in a dark corner. Fingering you in the library. Cornering you in the maze to taste the nectar between your legs. Your cousin seems determined to make sure no inch of Saltburn isn’t tainted by his wicked desires.
This is a nightmare.
Your mom was so overjoyed on the phone after receiving Uncle James’ payment. And you’re glad you could help. But the cost…Did your mother’s happiness have to occur at your expense? You’re so exhausted, ashamed. You don’t know how long you can stand to be the vessel for your cousin’s lurid fantasies.
Even proper rest is denied to you now, the fear of someone figuring it out keeping you wide awake for hours every night.
“I doubt that,” you say, your lips curving in a stilted smile.
Farleigh leans back in his lounge chair, pushing his sunglasses over his nose.
“Still, good job, little sis.” A wide grin blooms on his face. “Guess being a goody two-shoes has its perks.”
Your chest clenches at your brother’s remark.
As Felix’s eyes find yours from across the pond, your blood freezes. He smiles at you. Goosebumps erupt on your skin. You shift, your attention returning to your brother.
“I-I don’t know about that.”
You thought the awfulness reached its peak. You were wrong. A new brand of twisted is introduced by Felix during breakfast with the entire family.
He sits next to you, smiling at you. You don’t think much of it. Why would you? He’s done this before. Taunt you. Tease you. Torment you. Even in front of the rest of them.
But what he does today, while Aunt Elspeth sits across from you and your brother is on your other side…it’s just ghastly. Impious.
Felix’s digits roam atop your thigh. You shoot him a glare. He pointedly ignores you, carrying a casual conversation with his mom while playing with the hem of your dress.
You focus on your plate. He caresses the inside of your thigh as you bring the fork to your lips.
He presses two fingers against your clothed center. Pushing, pressing and swirling around your tender bud. Your knees rub, heat gathering at the apex of your thighs.
The metal of the fork damn near shatters your teeth as you choke on a mouthful of eggs.
You apologize swiftly, shakily grabbing the glass of water near your plate. You take a long swig from it and clear your throat. Felix’s digits dip further inside you. Your breath hitches. He stops just shy of letting you come apart, bringing you to the cusp only to retreat at the very last second. A meticulously thought out torture.
It lasts for almost the entirety of breakfast, only reaching an end when Venetia rises from the table. You follow right after her, excusing yourself with a tense smile.
Hollow steps take you through an endless series of hallways. You can hardly even think, the enormity of what your cousin just did in front of his parents, in front of everyone, shocking you into numbness. Where will his depravity end? You long for summer to end so perhaps you can finally be free from your cousin.
You wind up in an empty room brimming with dusty books and antiques. You sit in a corner, knees against your chest, as you revel in a rare moment of respite. You don’t get these as often anymore. Not if your cousin has anything to say about it.
As usual, it doesn’t take long for Felix to find you a little later. Your heart skips a beat when his towering frame darkens the doorway, blocking any chance of an escape.
“Playing hide and seek, cousin?” he teases, amusement laced in his voice.
Tears swim in your eyes as you shoot him an accusing look.
“At breakfast, really? Someone could have seen, Felix. M-My brother, he could have seen.”
Rolling his eyes, he hops towards you to take a seat next to you. His rebuttal is disturbingly nonchalant.
“We’re not gonna get caught.”
“I think we should stop,” you sputter, your mouth wobbling.
His brows squeeze together, a mix of annoyance and confusion twisting his features.
“Why?”
You fiddle with the bottom of your dress, struggling to meet his irate stare.
“I’m grateful for everything you did, really, but this doesn’t feel right.”
His cheek pulses, a strange grin dragging his lips upward. Your stomach sinks.
“We’re just having fun, you and I, cousin.”
Your words warp into a watery croak.
“This isn’t fun, Felix.”
A weary sigh drops from his chest.
“It’s because you’re overthinking it,” he says, reaching out to cup your cheek. You turn your head. Frustration flickers in your cousin’s eyes. As you try to stand, he grabs you and shoves you on the floor.
“Felix, no…”
Ignoring your sniveling pleas, Felix hastily unzips his jeans and yanks your underwear down to your ankles.
A strangled sob flows from your lips as he nestles himself inside your wet heat in a single deep, cruel thrust.
You’re a whimpering mess on the floor as your cousin pounds into you from behind.
“Just stop fighting it,” he grunts. He twists his fist in your hair, your scalp singing in pain when he tugs at your roots. Tears stream down your face while your cousin snaps his pelvis into your ass.
“See? This is good.” His warm, heavy exhales tickle your nape. “Doesn’t my cock inside you feel good, cousin?”
“Yes…” you begrudgingly admit, loathing how every time he sinks into you, your toes curl and your eyes roll back on their own, warm tingles dancing through your core.
“Look outside.” You wince as he angles your chin towards the window, his other hand still tangled in your hair. You’re greeted with a beautiful sight of the lush gardens sprawling before the castle. His hot whisper grazes your temple. “Do you see all this? How beautiful Saltburn is…especially in the summer.” His smile carves into your skin.
“One day, all of this will be mine, cousin.” He plants a soft kiss on your cheek. Shivers course through your spine. “And it could be yours too… if you behave.”
#saltburn#felix catton#saltburn fanfiction#felix catton x reader#dark!felix catton#dark!felix catton x reader#saltburn 2023
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Delectation
IVE An Yujin x Jang Wonyoung x m!reader
-30,699 words
part one | part two
-----
read on AFF
read on AO3
As expected, it takes far too long to get ready for dinner.
By the time Yujin showers, dries her hair, does her makeup, finds the right outfit, and picks out the perfect earrings, it’s already dark when she emerges from the bathroom. On your end, you’ve spent a grand total of under five minutes finding a nice pair of khaki pants, and that one black shirt that Yujin really likes, the same one that’s been sitting in the back of your closet since last spring.
All that time spent was well worth it though, because Yujin looks absolutely breathtaking, and it makes no difference how much time has passed, because you like watching Yujin get dolled up. You can’t help notice the way her eyes flutter while she focuses on her makeup, the way her lips purse up while she finishes her lipstick, and how her nose scrunches up whenever she laughs as she spots your reflection in the mirror, knowing you can’t keep your eyes off her for a second.
“How do I look?” Yujin asks, twirling around to give you the full view of this tight little white dress that she hasn’t had an opportunity to wear, one that’s strapless, cuts off mid-thigh, and gives you all the best places to stare at shamelessly. It’s a feast for your eyes, and Yujin loves the attention you’re giving her, smiling in satisfaction when she turns to face your direction.
You can’t imagine what the goofy grin on your face is like right now, since you’re borderline drooling over how well Yujin fills out that dress, how good she looks in heels that accentuate those incredible long legs, and how devastatingly sexy she looks in that angelic white. There’s not a single part of Yujin that looks out of place, every piece of her outfit chosen to meticulous perfection.
“Like I could skip dinner and eat you instead.”
Yujin blushes. It’s a good thing Wonyoung’s waiting in the kitchen, because for sure she would groan at that. When Yujin closes the distance, she places a small peck on your cheek, wiping her lipstick mark away with her thumb.
“Daddy looks so handsome too…”
Yujin plays with the collar of your shirt before she wraps her hands around the nape of your neck, drawing you into her alluring gaze. There’s this look—this dangerous look, that all of her efforts to look this good might be for naught, because you know she just has to say the word, and that expensive dress will be in a heap on the floor before your next breath.
“Come on, daddy. We don’t want to keep our little princess waiting. You know she’ll be in a bad mood all night.”
Yujin breaks line of sight, grabbing her purse, and leads the way down the stairs, allowing you to appreciate the rear view that her dress provides, that sinful hourglass body with those perfect hips swaying in time with the clack of her heels.
“About time,” Wonyoung says, that familiar petulance creeping up in her voice as she stays leaned over the kitchen island with phone in hand, not even bothering to look up until you two reach the last step of the staircase. “Almost went up there to check on you two. Make sure you hadn’t fucked daddy’s brains out again.”
There's the faintest blush on Yujin's cheeks again as she approaches her younger roommate, pinching her cheeks affectionately as if that'll be enough to disarm her. “I thought about it.”
As Wonyoung shoves her away, Yujin smiles sheepishly, and gets a halfhearted glare aimed her way while losing attention to whatever game is on the screen.
All this time, Wonyoung is too restless to leave, wearing a pink elegant cocktail dress, one that’s a little more modest than Yujin’s but still does her figure justice. She looks like the epitome of prim and proper, a sharp contrast to Yujin, who radiates such overpowering sex appeal; who can get an entire room to look at her the moment she walks through the door.
No doubt they’re a deadly duo, two very different sides of the same coin. Yujin, with her vixenish smile, equipped with these deadly bedroom eyes that keep you on edge for what could happen at any minute. Wonyoung, with her doll-like features and that cute little pout, the one she reserves for when there’s something she wants and won’t back down. When they’re this close together, it’s beauty incarnate, seduction and innocence fused into one alluring package.
Yujin can’t keep her hands off you, ruffling her fingers through your hair while she’s adjusting your shirt, admiring how good you clean up when you want to.
"Are you two done flirting with each other?“ Wonyoung asks, furrowing an eyebrow. “I'm getting hungry.”
"No," Yujin replies without missing a beat, brushing a stray hair off Wonyoung’s forehead. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Wonyoung crosses her arms, and she might explode if she has to wait one more second.
“Whatever, can we just go already? Unless you two need to get a quickie in before we leave,” Wonyoung says in a huff, rolling her eyes and gathering up her jacket. Before either of you say anything else, she loops an arm through yours in a hearty attempt to get this whole train moving, and it’s quite amusing how impatient she can get.
Yujin follows closely behind with this sly grin (one that knows the suggestion isn’t entirely out of the question), until you’ve finally left the apartment and piled into the elevator, descending to the private parking garage.
“Which car are we taking? The Audi? Mercedes?” Wonyoung asks, surveying the sea of expensive cars all lined up in a row next to each other. It’s an absurd question to be honest, like she’s asking what dress she should wear instead of which of these dozen or so cars you should take. But to these two girls, it’s absolutely normal to have this menagerie of luxury at their disposal, each more expensive than the last. You’d be happy to be in a broken down station wagon as long as you’re in their company.
Before you can even say that it really doesn’t matter, Yujin answers the question for you, running a manicured hand along the polished hood of a red Maserati. It’s exquisite, with this rich crimson exterior, chromed out rims, and black leather seats, it’s a head-turner for sure, and so very Yujin.
“This one’s my favorite,” Yujin says, strutting towards the driver’s side door. “Just like daddy...”
The compliment doesn’t seem fair when you’re being compared to this gorgeous beauty of a car, but you’ll take it. Wonyoung seems less enthusiastic at the choice, given that she’ll pick her pink Ferrari on any given day, but shockingly, she’s without complaints.
Yujin slides into the driver’s seat, then Wonyoung claims the passenger side, which leaves you to awkwardly clamber into the small backseat where you can’t avoid hitting your head, getting a double dose of giggles for your troubles. There’s less legroom than you’d like, but the leather seats and sexy interior more than make up for it.
When you’re all buckled up, you can see the uncontained excitement in Yujin as her hands stroke over the steering wheel, and her eyes light up when she fires up the engine, making it purr to life. The weather’s every bit perfect, so she puts the top down after pulling out of the parking space, speeding out of the garage and into the street while the wind blows in your hair.
It’s not a long drive, but traffic makes it longer, and if it were up to Yujin she’d fly past every single stop light without a second thought. The restaurant is in a nicer part of the city, and you’re able to enjoy the serenity of it from the backseat, following the stars while the music’s blaring and the rush of the wind hits your face.
When you arrive, there’s an unnecessarily long line out front. Yujin tells you she’s got that taken care of as she sees the concern on your face, and there’s nothing to worry about when you pull up next to the valet. Wonyoung pre-tips him rather generously, along with a warning not to scratch the paint, which is rather amusing considering it’s not even her car, but she’s pretty protective of anything and everything belonging to her best friend (that includes you).
You can smell steak before you even head inside the double doors, and the way the girls link arms when they head in almost makes you feel like you’ve become the third wheel on a date of theirs. But while they wait for you to catch up, offering reassuring smiles when making room in the middle for you is a gentle reminder that you’re anything but, nor are you a stray that these girls took pity on.
This is meant to be a special occasion, even if you feel out of place among the myriad of well dressed patrons in tailored suits and extravagant dresses who seem to blend right in. As best as you can, you’re not going to let it get to you, because you might not have their wealth or status, but you have something money can’t buy—these two gorgeous women hanging off your arms that enjoy your company.
“Table for three,” Yujin says, feigning embarrassment when the host’s eyes widen at the name of the reservation, since apparently her name has a reputation around these parts. It's mysterious—a part of Yujin you haven't been privy to, or pressed for any details about—partly because it's not your place, partly because there's something sexy about the unknown.
While you’re left thinking about what an enigma Yujin is, you’re ushered into a large corner booth with a perfect view of the skyline, and only then does the realization kick in about how packed the place is as you marvel at the high ceilings, the lavish decor on the walls, the overall elegance at a place you’d never be able to afford to visit on your own.
Everything about the dining room is ornate, the fancy lighting overhead, the lit candles atop each table, all of it confirming that these girls want nothing but to spoil you rotten. You’re overwhelmed by the menu, even before noticing the prices, and you're nothing but thankful you won't have to empty your bank account tonight.
The waitress comes to introduce herself and gather drink orders; Wonyoung orders red wine, Yujin orders a stiff martini, and you opt for a more boring route—plain old ice water.
You can sense the combined disappointment on their faces before you even finish, but someone has to be responsible, and make sure everyone makes it home in one piece. And hey, it’s a good excuse to be able to drive Yujin’s luxurious car back to the apartment. It’s not like they’ve planned on getting completely hammered, but at least loosen up a little bit, since nights like this are bound to be unpredictable.
“Well,” Wonyoung starts, nursing her glass of wine before taking a delicate sip, licking the remnants of the alcohol off those glossy lips. “What sounds good?”
“Steak,” Yujin replies with a giggle, stating the hyper obvious while she takes the opposite approach, downing her drink like it’s water, and she’s liable to finish it before even getting to order. The menu’s got so many options, from a dozen different cuts of steak, to lobster, to types of fish you didn’t even know existed (you swear some of these have to be made up).
When the waitress comes around to take your orders, you all end up settling on pretty much the same thing, but funny enough, Wonyoung orders the biggest cut of steak out of the three of you. How she stays so trim and fit remains one of life’s greatest mysteries.
“So, daddy,” Yujin pauses, and already she’s on her second martini, which is a dangerous thought on its own, as dangerous as her using that word in public, especially when you’ve got nothing but water to defend against that smirk of hers. There’s one from Wonyoung as well, all equal parts of mischievous, like they’ve been silently scheming something since sitting down, waiting until the right moment to enact the next phase of their devious plan. “What do you think—“
Her words trail off on purpose, not even trying to be subtle as Yujin traces the rim of her martini glass with one finger, those little rotations slow and steady to keep your attention glued to her before she dips her middle finger inside, sucking the alcohol clean off.
It’s impressive, how on every little occasion Yujin manages to turn the simplest thing into some erotic act: like when she takes the olive from her toothpick and runs it along those soft, sultry lips, pops it into her mouth, then takes her time to chew before she tilts her head back and swallows it down.
It’s all your fault, you suppose, for thinking this was just an ordinary dinner without any ulterior motive. And yet, you know this is just the preamble for what’s going to unfold later tonight as you think about all the ways Yujin can get in your head. Your shared roommate Wonyoung makes a good accomplice, because she can mask her intentions with that coy little smile that makes her look oh so innocent, when you know she’s anything but.
A loud slurp of her drink, and Yujin scoots closer towards you, until she’s pressing her thigh against your leg. Wonyoung follows suit, the three of you in a tight huddle, sandwiched together, and there it is—the first of many shared glances to keep you guessing what their intentions are, and they could just about be anything.
“You know, it’s going to take a while to cook our steaks. That gives us plenty of time to kill, doesn't it, daddy?” You’re not even looking at Yujin when she’s speaking, because maybe if you don’t acknowledge her, maybe that thought won’t finish—
“What do you say we head to the bathroom, you can hike this dress up and…”
A fruitless endeavor.
Yujin reaches over to grab your wrist, dragging it up her exposed thigh, inching it higher. She’s about to guide it between those devilish legs, but finds herself interrupted when the waitress comes to check on the table just in time.
“Yujin, we came here to eat,” you growl, pulling away as the waitress heads back to the kitchen with promises that your meal should be out momentarily, but that can’t ever be soon enough.
It’s so easy for Yujin to get so carried away, and despite the fact that you’re in public only encourages her to take things to the extreme. “Well, there’s not any food here yet. So I thought maybe if you wanted a little appetizer…”
Again, what an absurd thought that this would be just a normal outing. You’re really regretting being stuck with water, half-tempted to make a beeline over to the bar and start chugging shots. Even one small sip of alcohol would help deal with Yujin’s advances.
But it’s not like you don’t want what she’s offering, that you wouldn’t want to devour her before the food gets here. You couldn’t even make it to the bathroom, just drop to your knees and eat her out right at this booth, risk it all to get your mouth between those mouthwatering legs.
Between these two with devilish intentions, you have to be the reasonable one here. No matter how ravishing Yujin looks in that sexy little dress, you’ll have to keep your thoughts in check, and certainly, you have to keep her greedy hands away from your crotch. There’s a time and place for this, and it’s not in front of all of these people, when you don’t need any extra attention.
Wonyoung keeps playing her part, which is to say, offering no assistance, just idling on the sideline, swirling around the red liquid in her glass as she smiles wickedly at your discomfort, which you know she can pile on.
Worst of all, there aren’t even any appetizers to distract you from all this, as you’ve agreed on skipping them in lieu of not getting full before the main course. It’s not helping the way Yujin leans against your shoulder, tracing patterns along the inside of your thigh with her fingers, unwavering with all this teasing. Right now, your biggest problem is trying to not catch an erection in public, but despite your best efforts, Yujin just might brute force it regardless.
Much to the dismay of the pretty girls on either side of you, the steaks arrive just in time, and you’re endlessly grateful for this succulent meat savior from making the situation any more arduous. That first bite is nothing short of orgasmic, melting in your mouth, and it’s the distraction you desperately need from any further Yujin shenanigans. You think it doesn’t get better than this—the best steak you’ve had in your life, enveloped by two beautiful girls, in this pleasant atmosphere. There’s nothing more to ask for.
“How’s yours, daddy?” Yujin asks, offering you a bite of her own steak as she brings the juicy meat close to your mouth. It’s not that different from yours, but you swear, the way the flavor lingers on your tastebuds, that it somehow tastes even better when you’re eating it off her fork.
“Really good,” you say, which is really underselling just how damn delicious it is, but you don’t want to waste time with words when you can focus on eating. Wonyoung just sits and watches the two of you swap bites off of each other's plate, almost in her own world while she cuts into her steak with all the grace of royalty.
It’s these little differences between the two that’s humorous; Wonyoung seems to exist on a different planet than anyone else, taking these small, delicate bites, elegantly bringing her fork to her lips, while Yujin resorts to eating in large, hungry bites, practically stabbing her meat. The destination is the same, just with different modes of travel.
Ultimately, you’re just happy to spend time with the inseparable pair, appreciating a quality meal, and savoring the quiet moments, the calm before the proverbial storm. There’s never any final satisfaction with these two, as evidenced by the massive slice of cheesecake that’s been shared between three forks, one last moment of pure indulgence before heading home.
Yujin downs the remainder of her third martini after grabbing her black card from the waitress, and she leaves behind a more than generous tip that could clear the average person’s rent. Exiting the booth, it turns out Yujin isn’t too far gone despite having her fair share to drink, but it always makes her a little (more) clingy, wrapping both hands around your bicep in an almost protective manner. Similarly, Wonyoung skips to the side, singing this inaudible song while the three of you make your way to the valet without any care in the world.
By the time the Maserati gets brought around, it looks brand new, like it’s been given the works before being returned. The keys get returned to Yujin, who then hands them over to you without hesitation, and she tips again generously, as if showing off how much money she carries around.
You’re not going to take this responsibility lightly when you’ve been given the reins to command such a powerful beast. Sliding into the driver’s seat, it feels like you’re sitting on a golden throne, and you need a moment to take it all in, need a moment to appreciate the extravagance you’re surrounded in.
“You look like you’re about to lose your virginity,” Wonyoung teases, her petite figure climbing into the backseat with finesse, unlike yourself, who flopped in with all the grace of a raging bull.
It’s a fair comparison, because this car is sex on wheels. And then Yujin takes her place beside you, strapping in, the most dangerous passenger you could have.
“You’ll get us home safe, right, daddy?” Yujin asks, leaning over to kiss your check with a hint of alcohol on her breath, but this time marks your cheek with her red lipstick.
The answer is an obvious yes, but when the car roars to life with this low growl that comes with the simple push of a button, you have this overwhelming desire to ignore every last traffic law and stop sign in existence.
Once you've hit one of the main streets after leaving the restaurant, Yujin’s lips get close enough to brush against your earlobe, and she speaks in this low, sultry whisper that drips nothing but lust. “I’m going to love watching you ruin our little princess, daddy. I can’t wait to see how your cum looks dripping out of her holes.”
Those two little sentences nearly take your entire concentration away, but you’ve been stuck at a red light for far too long, so you get a reprieve to let your brain recover from turning to mush. Wonyoung’s rather quiet, which is suspicious in its own way, and she’s not saying much while staying in the background, or perhaps lost in the music, but you can’t help how it has you on edge more than it should.
There’s not much said during the last long stretch of open highway, which lets you experience the car’s full potential, and has you forgetting what speed limits are.
When the apartment comes back in view, it’s an almost regrettable sight. You could miss the turn, put this fearsome thing through its paces, but you do have an obligation to be responsible. There’s something much more exciting waiting up ahead anyway.
Your fingers glide over the garage keypad, and you’re welcomed home. But there’s this lingering sense of trepidation, because once the three of you walk through that door—you can only imagine what’s going to happen.
The top of the Maserati slides back in place, and you shut the engine off, handing Yujin the keys while you head to the opposite side, opening the door for her.
“Such a gentleman,” Yujin says as she takes your hand for assistance while stepping out, and she’s not nearly as drunk as you’ve been led to believe, especially walking in those heels. It’s more of this perfect buzz going on.
Wonyoung, however—is a different story. She makes a cute stumble upon exiting the car, nearly losing her balance, but you’re right there to catch her. “My hero.”
It’s more sarcastic than sincere, something you’ve grown accustomed to. But even under the influence of alcohol, Wonyoung remains more unreadable than ever, and she’s not ashamed to lean against the nearby cars for support until she’s regained her footing,
While you’re both trying not to laugh, Yujin slips her fingers between yours, guiding you towards the elevator with a lot more grace and dignity than the younger of the two for once. Following close behind, Wonyoung saunters into this small elevator with you and Yujin that seems like it takes forever to get to your apartment floor, letting the silence simmer. It’s unnatural for there to be this much quiet with these two, when they’ll make a comment about every little thing no matter how irrelevant, or mundane. The hum of the elevator ascending is the only noise that breaks the uncomfortable silence, but it’s anything but peace and quiet, and adds to the uncertainty. With every floor that passes, Yujin keeps her fingers interlocked with yours, her body close, and that demure smile lingering on her face. On the opposite end, there’s Wonyoung, who just stares blankly ahead, arms spread out while holding on to the guard rail, not a thought in that empty head.
As soon as the elevator dings, the doors swinging open spikes your nerves, but you can’t act on it when Yujin drags you along by the wrist, and you follow without question like a helpless puppy until faced with the front door of your apartment.
Yujin fumbles through her bag to find the keys, handicapped by alcohol for a moment. Wonyoung appears behind and watches her blind attempts to unlock the apartment, unable to put the key into the slot with one hand still locked in yours. All out of patience she intervenes, taking the keys from Yujin and opens the apartment door, demanding praise like she’s just won a gold medal.
“Brat. I almost had it,” Yujin says, more playful than venomous, as she’s got a little too much alcohol in her to be actually upset. You lock the door behind and turn on the entryway light as Yujin shuffles about, sitting her purse on a counter and kicking off her heels, abandoning them wherever they land. Her bare feet can breathe as she walks across the hardwood floor. Wonyoung, however has a little trouble slipping her heels off. She stumbles once again, much to Yujin’s delight, who can’t help but let out an obnoxious laugh.
You see, unlike Yujin, Wonyoung is prone to overdoing it, and she’s not the best at holding her alcohol. So after a few drinks, anything (or in this case two full glasses of wine) is more than enough to get her tipsy, get those carefully chosen words slurring.
“Should I carry you?” you tease, which garners no reaction other than Wonyoung’s ire, who balls up her fists at her sides, carefully stepping over her stilettos to not trip over them a second time.
“I’m not that drunk,” Wonyoung insists, but her body betrays her words when she can barely make it past the couch, and requires both you and Yujin to try wrangling her there. Even then, the poor girl still manages to fall over, taking you down to the cushions with her in this tumble that’s anything but elegant.
“Okay, maybe I am a little…”
Yujin covers her mouth, just in absolute stitches at the display, and no one laughs quite like her at someone else's expense. Poor, poor Wonyoung looks so embarrassed when you manhandle her enough to sit properly, keeping her on your lap as you hold her tiny waist to pull her together.
As you lean against the back couch cushions, there’s a flushed glow on Wonyoung’s face, both from the humiliation and the alcohol still doing its job, and it makes her look so extra adorable when she tries to hide her intoxication, a near impossible task at this point.
“Daddy,” Wonyoung says, trying not to slur her syllables as Yujin settles down on the cushions to your left, rearranging the pillows underneath her back as she plops down. “Daddy, daddy—“
“What is it, princess?"
There's an unmistakable twinkle in Wonyoung's eyes when she taps your shoulders with both palms, leaning in expectedly with her lips all puckered up. "Kiss me. I want a kiss, daddy."
Wonyoung looks like she’ll pout forever if you don’t oblige her request, and it’s such a polite demand, exempt from the usual brattiness that there isn’t a reason to say no. She isn’t left waiting. You seize her cute cheeks, kissing those full, plump lips as they part in an instant, letting you claim that pretty little mouth that still lingers with alcohol left behind. The girl practically melts at your touch, losing whatever sense of stability she has left when her fingers weave into your hair, and you can taste the sweetness on her tongue that feels like you’ll get drunk just from tasting her.
When the kiss gets broken, you see the hunger in those eyes—they want more, not just from you, but from the woman perched on the sidelines, silently watching you make out with Wonyoung, enjoying how this all slowly unravels.
And then Wonyoung gets greedy, because this kiss is far from over when she grabs your shirt, pulling you back in for more, tongues colliding as you let her take the lead, let her take whatever she wants. It’s not often she gets to take command like this (at least not without some barrage of whines), but it’s far too easy to get lost in those intoxicating lips, so you don’t dare disrupt her needs and let her determine when this kiss ends.
Yujin stays glued to the action, as she has a front row seat to watch this frantic liplock, and can’t say she’s not even a little bit jealous of how Wonyoung gets her tongue in your mouth. Inching closer, Yujin gets close enough to join if need be. And as Wonyoung lets you come up for air, all the attention gets turned towards her counterpart who has no intention of being left out.
“Now you,” Wonyoung says, this cute command while leaning out your lap to meet Yujin with a messy, drunken kiss, even more unrestrained, even more insatiable. You’re left as a lowly spectator now, but there’s little to complain about when you have these two incredibly gorgeous, equally intoxicated women kissing each other so lasciviously.
Naturally, Yujin takes over, despite the fact she didn’t initiate, and she’s just devouring this girl, plunging her tongue into Wonyoung’s needy mouth, pressing her lips deeper as Wonyoung nearly comes off your lap. There’s such an eagerness in the way their lips crash together, absolutely starved for one another, as Wonyoung succumbs to how Yujin’s mouth dominates her own, almost helpless in this state, letting her do whatever she pleases.
Your eyes don’t miss a moment, and how could they? You have these two just going at it, lips colliding into these hot, heavy kisses, acting like both have something to prove while you’re watching their sloppy makeout session. Yujin is anything but gentle while roaming Wonyoung’s tight little body, searching for any area of skin that hasn't been claimed, digging fingertips into bare flesh, doing what she can to get her more flustered.
And Wonyoung just loves this, she loves letting go of control, becoming this object to be fondled, this little plaything to be dominated. The more Yujin keeps her mouth on her, the more she lets out these heated moans, drowning in rich desire with no chance to hide her level of arousal.
“This—this is in the way,“ Yujin says, tugging at the hem of that cocktail dress, and she wants it out of the picture equally as much as you do. Wonyoung can’t agree more, and leans in close to plant her lips back on Yujin for one more sinful kiss while she unzips the back of her dress.
“Then why don’t you take it off me?”
Without any question, Yujin does just that, peeling Wonyoung off of your lap for a second so she can have unfettered access to her. There’s no time being squandered when Yujin finishes unzipping the back, and then she’s drifting two fingers down the spine of Wonyoung’s bare back, causing a light gasp that can’t be contained.
And when those straps fall down, Wonyoung gives this sly little grin, because she loves how you’re watching her get slowly undressed.
That gorgeous cocktail dress is the first casualty of the evening as Yujin gives it one little tug, and gravity does the rest, freeing Wonyoung of that expendable piece of fabric. The only thing left covering her slender frame is a skimpy matching set of white bra and panties that barely conceals that perfect, pale skin, all those exquisite curves, and that tight stomach that’s just begging to be licked.
“Look how pretty she looks, daddy,” Yujin says, and she runs her hands all over the curves of Wonyoung’s body, groping whatever creamy flesh is in reach, sinking her fingertips into those toned, worshipable abs.
“She’s fucking stunning,” you respond, and Wonyoung blushes at the praise, loving how two sets of eyes are focused on her that look over every little inch of her, every little detail on such a beautiful canvas that makes up her body. You don’t get enough occasions like this, where she gets to show off her figure, and Wonyoung is eating all this attention up,
“Can I take this off, princess?” Yujin asks, fingers playing with the clasp of her lace bra, and Wonyoung just nods in a way that’s pleading, like she wants to beg to be stripped but can’t quite get the words out. But of course, Yujin drags it out when she lowers those straps down slowly, painfully slow, one at a time, leaving a trail of kisses on her bare shoulders as she unfastens that bra and tosses it out of sight, unveiling that petite chest.
Wonyoung has such cute, perky breasts, with these pretty pink little nipples that Yujin can’t resist teasing with the pads of her fingers, and she knows how to get her all worked up. The lightest touch makes her nipples start to stiffen, using as little pressure as possible to circle them, not even enough to get any bliss to register.
Yet Wonyoung is losing it, leaning back as Yujin cups her bare breasts, toying with her body, testing to see what gets the most visceral reactions. For you, it’s hard not to pitch a tent in your slacks, growing so painfully erect the more Yujin toys with Wonyoung. These addictive little moans spill out as her nipples get pinched, played with, rolled between fingertips, and it’s no secret how sensitive that cute little chest can get. Yujin’s going to take full advantage of that.
Yujin continues to lavish Wonyoung with attention, taking the time to grope her body, to play with those pretty nipples. before her hands travel south. She slides down that toned abdomen, while placing these sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along Wonyoung’s neck, and then she presses two fingers against her clothed core—
“Please…” Wonyoung gasps, but Yujin is quick to ignore her whines, grabbing her hips, and slipping a finger between the waistband of her thong, the strap so thin you could snap it off by looking at it.
“Care to do the honors, daddy?” Yujin asks, looking at you with expectant eyes, almost ready to tear her panties to shreds if you take too long to answer. Even then, you let the question linger, while Wonyoung is basking in the attention, waiting with bated breath to get this last piece of clothing off her.
“Of course,” you say, not that there’s any other possible response when presented with a question like that. It's impossible for Wonyoung not to blush with how exposed she is in this moment, and that red hue on her cheeks deepens when you caress her creamy thighs, so silky smooth beneath your fingertips.
Before you drag those little panties down, you can’t help notice the small wet patch that stains the lacy fabric a shade darker, evidence of her arousal seeping through. And then it slips so easily off her hips, down to her ankles, exposing her pretty bare pussy, that perfect pink flesh all slick and glistening just for you.
“Come closer, princess.”
She can't obey your command fast enough, closing the gap until her thighs part on either side, giving you easy access to that beautiful bare cunt that’s begging to be touched, devoured, filled to the brim.
While you figure out what to do with her, Wonyoung stands on display as if she’s an exhibit of the perfect woman, naked, beautiful, and flawless from head to toe. You don’t make her wait for more attention, and give her tight stomach a trail of appreciative kisses, feeling the muscles flex underneath—and then you slip a finger inside that slick warmth, just burying yourself to the hilt in one go.
“D-daddy, fuck,” Wonyoung moans, as she tries her hardest to hold still while you slide a finger in and out of her pussy with these languish strokes, coating it in enough of her juices for you to lick clean.
“What should we do with you?”
In no time at all, Wonyoung becomes this needy thing, whimpering at just about anything as you pump a second finger inside, curling your digits to coax these pathetic little whines out.
“I’m not so sure she’s ready for that dick yet,” Yujin says, as she’s watching your fingers disappear inside Wonyoung, plunging them into her sweet depths, bringing them out dripping in her nectar.
"What do you think, princess? Does that pretty little pussy deserve this cock?" you ask, and Wonyoung moans in response when you keep hitting her sweet spot. It sends all kinds of satisfying shivers through her body—ones that make her squirm, because whether or not she’ll admit it, she enjoys being worked up like this, getting denied any real pleasure.
“Answer,” Yujin demands, and this time when you slip your fingers from that pretty cunt, you’re just stroking her wet folds, making Wonyoung stay empty with your refusal to get back in her until she gives a proper response.
“I want your cock, daddy," Wonyoung finally blurts out with shaky words. "Need it. Need your cock in me."
“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” Yujin says, tilting Wonyoung’s chin up to look her directly in the eyes. “Do you want daddy’s cock or not?”
There’s a defeated look in Wonyoung’s eyes, like she can’t believe she actually has to work for something, annoyed that she has to present a valid argument when her cunt aches desperately to be filled with something more than just your greedy fingers.
“Y-yes, I want daddy’s big cock. Please, I need it—please let me have it. Fuck me, use me, use my tight pussy. Doesn’t daddy wanna breed me?”
It’s playing dirty when Wonyoung dares to use that word, and she’s every bit shameless for doing so. You’re refusing to respond to that, and dip your fingers back in instead, cleaning them off with a messy slurp. You repeat this like clockwork, and get your fingers dripping with the honey between Wonyoung’s thighs, but it’s impossible to get enough of this taste.
When you look at Yujin, she’s got this look on her face like she’s not convinced—and to be perfectly honest, you aren’t either.
“Then prove it, princess,” Yujin says, leaning back on the couch cushions with her arms folded, tucking her legs underneath as she stares Wonyoung down. “Get on your knees like a good little slut. Show us what that pretty mouth can do.”
Without even taking a breath, Wonyoung gives a little nod as she follows orders, lowering to her knees. There’s all this eagerness in her eyes when she’s undoing your pants, fumbling with the zipper for a moment until she yanks your slacks down to your ankles.
“Good girl. Daddy has too many clothes on.” Yujin refuses to settle with the amount of clothing you have left on, and she does her part in undressing you. One by one, she loosens every button, kissing the parts of your chest that she exposes, lips following each undone button until your torso is bare and your shirt gets tossed away.
It’s so sudden, even a little surreal to have your two pretty roommates undress you. Yujin leans back in to kiss you. Her lips take a path somewhere in between this soft, tender embrace, and being downright animalistic, just shoving her tongue in your mouth without restraint. Meanwhile, Wonyoung isn't going to wait around, getting your boxers off your hips.
Yujin's no slouch either, vying for your attention by tracing a path along your chest, and she wanders one finger wherever it pleases. And then Wonyoung plants her plump lips on the underside of your shaft, hitting that sensitive spot that she knows so well now over and over, watching it throb each time her kisses linger.
“Hey…” Wonyoung whines, looking at Yujin as she explores your length, your shaft unable to escape those gloss-covered lips while they move down to your base, soft pecks all the way until she starts from the top once more. “You’re the only one still wearing clothes.”
For once, she has a point, and it’s not like Yujin can argue against the fact that her gorgeous white dress is the only thing not part of this ever-growing pile of clothes. You’re naked, Wonyoung is naked, so why shouldn’t she join the fun?
"Don't worry, princess. We can fix that real easy," Yujin responds. She’s been caught red-handed, and doesn’t hesitate to stand up so she can disrobe. It’s a striptease without the tease, as she slides the dress down her shoulders, only giving a you glance of the color of her bra for a moment—it’s black, sexy as can be, and gone before you know it, that small thong that you only get to see from the front following suit.
The room fills with stunned silence when Yujin gets equally nude as the two of you, just flaunting off that deadly figure that manifests how fit and toned she is, these never ending curves that give her such an unfair advantage.
“There, is that better?” Yujin asks with a giggle, and seeing her looking like that, just shamelessly naked as could be on the couch, is more than enough to steal all your entire attention away. Wandering that tight body with your eyes is the only response Yujin desires, because now your focus is torn, and it’s hard to do anything but just look like an idiot and stare.
Obviously, Wonyoung isn’t going to take that lightly. Not when she’s got your hard cock in her hand, giving these purposeful little strokes while leaving wet, hungry kisses on your swollen tip, displaying her adoration in the best way she can. Wonyoung needs your undivided attention more than ever, even if she has to fight for it. She does so well at it: she’s pressing these soft lips into every sensitive spot on your cock, licking where she’s left kisses, all that precum oozing out getting cleaned by her warm tongue.
Your eyes don’t know where to look, whether to stay focused on the vast nakedness of Yujin, or Wonyoung worshiping your cock, as she continues to tease, kissing up and down your length with those sultry lips that get so incredibly eager to please. Wonyoung tries to tear away your focus by slowly swirling her tongue around your tip, brushing across your slit that keeps releasing a steady stream of precum, making this sticky mess that she loves cleaning up, and then—
Those sexy lips part, and Wonyoung abruptly takes your cock inside her wet mouth. You groan, and your attention is all hers now, on how warm her pretty mouth feels, how soft those impatient lips are. This isn’t teasing, no, she’s getting straight to the point when she seals those lips around your shaft, sucking you off in this magical way that gets your cock nice and wet in an instant.
The girl just has a talent for this, she’s so goddamn ravenous, head bobbing up and down with all this fervor. The loud slurps she makes are so deliberate, and Wonyoung’s trying to draw the attention of the entire room.
“That looks like it feels good, daddy,” Yujin says, and of course it does, because a blowjob from Wonyoung is unlike anything else, the way those soft lips just take and take and take, without any remorse, swallowing you into her mouth, greedy for more.
“Y-yeah, it does. She’s good at this. You like sucking this cock, don’t you, princess?”
Wonyoung is a bit preoccupied to answer, but she makes your shaft disappear down her throat, taking you all the way down to the base as a response, and tries to hold you there for as long as she can—which admittedly isn’t that long, but you’ll give her points for trying. She makes another attempt, one that’s a bit more successful, but Wonyoung just doesn’t have the control over her gag reflex like Yujin does, even though she more than makes up for it with her enthusiasm.
“Princess,” Yujin says, toeing the line on being condescending when she admonishes Wonyoung. “You’re being too hasty. Slow down, try to relax your throat.”
“I don’t need your help. I know how to deepthroat.”
“Is that why you’re gagging so much?”
“I’m gagging because daddy likes when I do that.”
“No, he likes it when he makes you gag. Right now, you’re sucking his dick like a virgin who’s never had anything down their throat. And you’re not even being that messy.”
“I’m just—taking my time. It’s called build up, but you wouldn’t know that since you just slobber on daddy’s dick the moment you get it in your mouth.”
You know what Yujin is doing, and it’s working so well. It’s doing wonders to light a fire under Wonyoung, because she works best when she gets all competitive, needs to prove her worth. Stubborn till the end, she tries it her way one more time, and when Wonyoung can’t go more than a few seconds without gagging, she pulls away, takes a long, deep breath, and then tries what Yujin suggests. Her lips make slow movements, settling in at one inch at a time, until she pushes deeper, little by little, making your girth gradually disappear between her lips.
“Breathe through your nose, princess. Take your time, and when you’re ready, all the way down your throat…”
You know there’s this huge part of Wonyoung that hates this, hates being instructed how to do something she’s perceived to be good at. But there’s no harm in learning, even as stubborn as she can be. So she comes up for air once, then goes back in, relaxing what she can, slowing her movements down, easing into it. The noises from her throat keep to a minimum, only slightly gagging on your length—
(A lot, actually, but it's okay, she’s still learning, even though she still wants to do things her way.)
There’s nothing but deep concentration in those eyes when her lips pull back, then goes back in for another run. She listens, takes it slow, and doesn’t rush things. Then her lips go down, far down, swallowing down your length, until without much effort she takes you all in, your entire shaft engulfed by those gorgeous lips.
Wonyoung stays like this—keeping her mouth still with those eyes looking right at you, like she’s desperate for your approval. Not a single sound leaves her throat, and there’s no urge to pull away. And then she does it all over again, without Yujin needing to utter a word, just taking these deep, deep plunges that keep you as far down in her throat as can be.
“See? There you go, princess. That’s our good girl,” Yujin says, with this satisfied smirk on her face, this look that’s proud as could be.
All that praise really gets Wonyoung going, as she’s got this new level of confidence, and she’s sucking your cock from base to tip without difficulty, like she never ever struggled with it before. And it just feels—so—good, the heat from her throat, the sensations from her lips as they slide across your entire cock, the way her tongue dances on the underside as that mouth presses into your balls when she swallows you whole.
There's no restraint when that wonderful mouth slides down to the hilt, holding it there to keep her throat all nice and full, taking such deep strokes that have you reeling. Your moans only feed her confidence, and now she’s just aching to prove herself, wants to keep all that praise coming, and there’s this nice sheen your cock gets covered in when Wonyoung pulls back up.
Yujin remains at your side the entire time, watching Wonyoung devote her mouth to your cock, and she’s getting so sloppy putting these new lessons to good use, drool spilling out the corners of her lips. “She’s good at this. If we’re not careful she’ll suck you dry.”
And she says that like it’s a problem. Maybe it is for Yujin, who wants to claim your first load, but given how fucking good Wonyoung is sucking your dick, there's no harm in giving her first dibs.
In the midst of this wet, messy blowjob, Yujin curls her toes against the outer side of your thigh, showing her intention to not stay idle for much longer. You accept that invitation for a distraction, grabbing one of her ankles, and start to plant little kisses on the ball of her foot, moving your lips to her pretty painted toes. A look of satisfaction washes over Yujin's face as she tilts her head back, because she doesn’t like to be neglected for too long.
It’s the best distraction you can have while Wonyoung just devours your cock, going all in from base to tip while your tongue slides against the curve of Yujin’s perfect feet, tracing the contours and peppering the soft skin in kisses. Once you’ve introduced your lips to every part, you get your lips wrapped around her big toe and suck, unable to hold back the loud, messy slurps you make while you slather it with saliva, as you proceed to suck the rest of her white-pedicured toes, one by one.
Yujin just basks in the warm bliss that spreads across her body, and closes her eyes, because she loves getting her toes sucked as much as you love getting them in your mouth. Leaning back, comfortable as ever, Yujin is losing herself in the moment as you’re worshiping her feet that deserve it, and it’s not lost on you that you must look as needy as Wonyoung does drooling between your legs. You don’t care, because having Yujin’s pretty little toes in your mouth while you’re getting the best head of your life, well, nothing could be better, you think.
You could just spend time doing this forever, kissing and licking your way through Yujin’s goddess feet, each pass of your tongue enough to make you salivate over these flawless arches, silky soles, and gorgeous painted toes. You have no restraint at a time like this, licking her feet with so much hunger, then the space between her toes, giving them another tongue bath, so you can taste every delicious inch that you can reach. Yujin runs the ball of her foot along your cheek, giggles when you eagerly drag your tongue between her toes, when you give those soft soles all sorts of messy kisses, and she’s almost enjoying your worship more than you, quiet little moans slipping out.
“Daddy—don’t you think it’s time I got a turn?” Yujin asks when she presses her foot against your face, then slides down to your lips so she can see how many toes you can take in your mouth.
You’re completely enamored in the taste of her feet, indulging in every mouthwatering inch, tongue desperately running along her arches, that you don’t even have a proper answer. Which works out, because Yujin doesn’t need one as she rests her saliva-covered feet in your lap, then uses them to push Wonyoung away, an emphatic, frustrated huff lets out as her work is interrupted.
“Hey!“ Wonyoung protests, with this indignant look on her face, the one you’ve all seen before, because she’s just had her favorite toy taken away. “I wasn’t done—give it back.”
Yujin keeps the younger girl from getting her mouth back on your cock, toying with her, which for a moment is of the utmost disappointment—until she uses those delicate feet to wrap around your length, leisurely jerking off your shaft with them. And fuck, it feels so goddamn good to have Yujin use her feet this way, rubbing her soles alongside your length, teasing your tip with her toes, all while this little greedy grin stays on her face.
“It’s only not polite to not share, princess,” Yujin says, and while it might not be the same as having those pouty lips drooling on your shaft, the way she just runs her toes over either side of your hard cock feels nothing short of orgasmic. Her smooth silky soles just squeeze with the most perfect amount of pressure, dragging all this pleasure out as she keeps your shaft between her delicate arches, pumping with all this delicious friction that makes you melt into the couch.
“How’s that, daddy? You like that?” You can only groan when Yujin asks, and she’ll take that as your answer, rolling her toes over your leaking cock. There's not a doubt in your mind she’s capable of making you cum just like this, that bravado plastered all over her face.
It’s not fair that Yujin’s an expert at every little thing she does, all so natural to her without any effort. There’s a cocky smile on her face that grows, knowing how much you’re enjoying the pleasure her feet give, and she loves the sounds you make while keeping this up. But of course, Wonyoung isn’t going to stay there and let Yujin have all the fun. That envy in her eyes reaches a breaking point.
Once Wonyoung rises, she takes a spot on your right side, returning the favor and pushes Yujin away, snatching up your cock. This greedy desire to one-up the older girl takes over, but Yujin isn’t sweating, because she wants to see where this is going.
“I can do this too,” Wonyoung says as her equally soft feet take over, mimicking Yujin, but it’s not quite the same—because she’s never done anything like this. It’s awkward at best, and your cock keeps slipping out of Wonyoung’s feet. As skilled as this girl is at oral, she simply can’t manage the proper position to do what Yujin has down to perfection.
“Are you sure?” Yujin says, and that teasing, it’s motivation for sure, but the more overzealous Wonyoung is, the more frustrated she gets.
Yujin watches with such amusement, unable to keep her laughter contained. The pout on Wonyoung’s lips just accentuates her frustration, clearly dismayed that she can’t figure this out. Wonyoung keeps failing at giving anything that resembles a proper footjob, and can’t seem to keep her feet on your cock long enough to give pleasure. And while Wonyoung isn’t the type to concede easily, she’d rather be back on her knees, lips sealed tight, drooling everywhere, and abandons the idea with this helpless little whine.
Without Yujin saying anything, her feet are right back on your cock, showing how it’s done. Using her toes, she gets this perfect grip on your shaft, then slips it between those velvety soles, pumping away, rubbing where it’ll make you moan the most, and doesn’t neglect your balls, applying careful pressure on them as well.
“God—that feels so good, so amazing, Yujin,” you groan, and you’re just throbbing with all this friction on your cock, all this softness surrounding you.
Through this all, Wonyoung has an annoyed look on her face (as per usual), unable to not let the jealousy shine through while she’s taking a backseat to Yujin expertly stroking your cock, working absolute magic on your cock with her toes, soles, and every other part of her perfect feet.
Maybe it’s pity, or how cute the pout on her face gets, but you can’t let Wonyoung get too starved for attention, because she did try her best. And she deserves some reward for that. So you’re not going to allow that leftover frustration to linger on her adorable face, and give her the same treatment as Yujin, pressing your lips into Wonyoung’s lovely feet, then slowly dragging your tongue along those soles, which are every bit as soft. There’s a ticklish sensation that soon dissipates, and then Wonyoung settles into every chaste kiss given to her milky feet, every long swipe of your tongue, until you slip those cute toes inside your mouth.
Her mood changes in a flash, and there's no frustration left, as Wonyoung can’t hide the enjoyment of you worshiping her feet this much, nor can she hide voicing the pleasure that you’re giving.
“Daddy’s good at that, isn’t he, princess?” Yujin asks, doing her share to pleasure your cock while your mouth doesn’t rest, licking the smooth soles of Wonyoung’s feet sensitive enough to draw all these sounds that are nothing but adorable. Because these two women, no, these two goddesses, it’s what they deserve, this total devotion to them.
“Y-yeah, he is,” Wonyoung murmurs, trying to remain composed while you suck on her delicate little toes, leaving sloppy, wet kisses in between—it’s more for your own needs of distraction from the way Yujin’s working your cock with her talented feet. Either way, you’re enjoying it regardless, kissing and licking all along the porcelain skin of Wonyoung’s princess feet.
It’s nothing but pure, concentrated bliss, all the while Yujin takes your cockhead between her toes, squeezing the most sensitive part, rubbing that underside—then she pulls away, kneels into the cushions to lean forward, and licks the length of your cock before she takes it into her mouth.
All this abrupt pleasure hits at once when Yujin consumes your cock whole, mouth descending straight to your base without a modicum of struggle. The heat from her mouth is overwhelming, and her lips wrap perfectly around your shaft, head bobbing at such an accelerated pace that has you moaning without any control left. As usual, her gaze is laced with lust, making all these filthy slurps when she fills her throat with cock, pulling back only to coat it with more spit. Then, she slowly eases her lips off your head until she goes back in, every last inch gobbled up, like she’s on a mission to prove her superiority in sucking cock.
"Oh my god, Yujin," you moan in ecstasy, because this girl is just a pro at taking it all down her throat with sheer hunger. She’s deepthroating you like a champ, bobbing her head in a blur, these sloppy passes that drip saliva down to your balls, and Wonyoung just looks on with her ego deflated, her pride shattered.
“You can help out, you know,” Yujin suggests, messy drool dripping down her chin as she keeps her lips tight around your cock, with her hands cradling your balls. Wonyoung hesitates for a moment, because she would much rather be the star of the show than share the spotlight, but eventually joins in, licking away at your sack while Yujin has your entire length in her mouth.
When the pair work together, the room gets filled with the sounds of sloppy slurps and hungry licks, two wonderful pairs of lips and tongues that no longer compete, but cooperate. Wonyoung gets her lips right on your balls, sucking them with so much vigor as she takes them one at a time, giving each individual attention until they’re covered in as much spit as your cock. Yujin keeps bobbing away, lips sliding from base to tip, then the reverse, these long strokes that have you groaning her name as you run fingers between her hair, the only thing you can do to find an anchor for this intense double blowjob that you never want to end.
“Fuck, there, like that, f-fuck—”
You can’t even say much more. Somehow, it keeps getting better, when these two put their competitive nature aside to share your cock between their perfect little mouths, taking turns so that each girls spends an equal amount of time licking your balls, sucking you off, wandering their warm, wet tongues everywhere to taste every part of you that’s there.
The next time Wonyoung gets you back in her mouth, she’s even greedier than usual, and you’re in such orgasmic bliss with these two treating your cock so well. You can’t imagine handling more of this—because each time her lips get wrapped around your shaft, it might be the last before you explode.
Yujin has no complaints about being delegated to keeping your balls wet, which causes Wonyoung to abandon all elegance, when this sloppy blowjob becomes difficult to endure, these wet lips really doing a number on you.
These pretty girls, they’re so methodical in their movements, licking all the right spots on your sensitive cockhead, keeping you on edge in anticipation of your next opportunity to stuff your length down their throat. They kiss with your shaft sandwiched between their lips, exchanging saliva as they do so, and it's so wet, messy, and full of nothing but unadulterated lust, this joint oral assault to encourage the inevitable.
It’s embarrassing how much you’re moaning, spilling those sounds out between your lips like these girls spilling drool, but who could blame you, when there’s a pretty naked girl on either side of you, stretched out, leaning over in your lap, swapping your cock between them. It’s an unforgettable image that has you at their mercy.
Everything builds into this culmination of bliss, the constant head bobbing, tongue lathering, these needy little cock kisses they plant on your shaft, and it’s beyond overwhelming to have your shaft get this much attention. Their mouths feel amazing in their own unique ways: the shape of their lips, their hot breath on your balls, the vigorous use of their tongues—one more lick is enough to send you to that impending release.
There’s no way to survive much longer.
“Shit, oh god,” you moan out, because you can’t handle all this stimulation, nor can you handle Wonyoung’s lips, or how Yujin slurps on your heavy balls, both caressing a thigh, sliding an extra finger down to your balls, whatever it takes to arrive at the finish line. You can’t think straight—not when Wonyoung stays down at your base, looking up ever so often with those doe eyes, nose pressing into your crotch. This indulgent mixture of sensations has you primed to erupt.
“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you blurt out, and those words come in a short breath with unbelievable bliss creeping into your voice. Neither of them seem too concerned by your announcement, no intention of slowing down as you approach your limit, and if anything, they ramp up the energy to speed this orgasm to its rightful conclusion.
“Think you can finish him off, princess?” asks Yujin, and Wonyoung gets this insulted look in her eyes when she glares daggers back.
“Better than you can.“
No more words get wasted, because Wonyoung is too dedicated to stuffing your cock down her greedy throat, earning every one of those twitches and throbs your shaft makes.
“We know you can, princess. Use that fucking throat to milk a nice, thick load out of daddy’s cock. You’ve earned that.“
There’s no stopping it. Wonyoung’s going to make you cum, no doubt, and you’re just savoring these last few moments, those wet, forceful slurps pleading for your load. Yujin squeezes your thigh to help draw it all out, and it’s just too impossible to hold out. One more stroke down to your base has you throbbing like crazy, and then you lock Wonyoung in, pressing her into your crotch while you cum down her throat, letting out these loud, desperate fucking groans—
And then you’re fervently unloading into her warm mouth, shooting out these massive spurts that fill her throat, and it’s the best reward you could give her. Wonyoung would never admit that it’s way more than she can handle, but that’s not going to stop you from pumping her throat with all your hot fucking seed, that load thick enough to choke on—but she’s taking it all so well, that pretty mouth a perfect vessel for this cum that she keeps milking all out.
“Don’t swallow yet,” Yujin commands, which is hard for Wonyoung to listen to, because there’s just so much cum that threatens to spill out between those messy red lips. In spite of that, you’re going to keep her still, making sure all your load finds its way down that throat, holding Wonyoung right there until it all starts to subside.
You know there’s nothing more they both want than to make damn sure you’re all good and emptied.
As the pleasure wanes, so does your harsh grip, and then Wonyoung pulls her lips off, which reveals your entire cock coated with messy saliva, strings of spit falling from the tip—marking the cushions.
The room falls silent as Wonyoung struggles to keep all that hot cum inside her mouth, because the temptation is sweeter than honey to just take it all down her stomach. But for a change, she’s obeying.
“Come here, princess,” Yujin says, and gestures the girl to lean her way, who does exactly so without complaint, eyes locked together. When she has Wonyoung at the perfect distance, Yujin pulls her into this obscene kiss as they share that warm mouthful of cum between their lips, swapping it, each equally greedy to take more than their share.
It’s erotic, a sight to behold, and while your high lingers, they have their playful, sloppy cum-kiss, the perfect way to end this opening climax. As their tongues stay in each other’s mouth, messy, glazed lips run with your thick cum that’s more than enough to keep you hard as a rock. It doesn’t matter who has most of the load anymore—all they care about is giving you a show, giving you this pornographic display that’s the perfect finale for this first chapter.
Neither of them ever takes the lead as they smack their cum-stained lips together, your load and their saliva mixing as one, in this absolute filthy display of gratitude that you couldn't tear your gaze away from even if you tried. When that heated kiss comes to a halt, there’s a collective grin on their lips as they both tilt their heads back, claiming their part of your seed before it fills the depths of their stomachs.
“Delicious,” Wonyoung says, while Yujin licks her lips in agreement. There’s one more lust-filled embrace, showing off empty tongues as they wander around in each other’s mouth, until they pull away and turn their attention towards you, sharing that same sense of mischievous intent.
“Not a bad little cocksucker, isn’t she, daddy?” Yujin asks, as Wonyoung runs her finger over her lips, making sure not a drop goes untasted. You’re still catching your breath as they both reach out to help you off the couch, heading towards the stairwell that leads toward the upper bedrooms.
“I’ve learned from the best.”
There’s not enough time to let that out of character compliment sink in as they both head up the stairs, leaving a trail of clothes behind as it gives one small opening to gawk at their flawless, naked bodies. Your ascent up the stairs doesn’t quite match their excitement, because you’re still recuperating, still in this post-orgasm bliss that has your legs feeling like jelly.
You saunter down the hallway with your steps light, one foot after the other, and it’s obvious which bedroom they’ve chosen. The door to yours is wide open, and the noises emanating from inside aren’t the least bit subtle. What you see when you head in doesn't leave much to the imagination; Wonyoung’s spread out in this obscene fashion on top of your bedspread, showing off that sinful figure, while Yujin lays on her stomach, head buried between those spread thighs, simply having her way with the girl’s drenched pussy.
It’s quite the shameless display to walk in on, and you feel like you’ve interrupted their fun, even if it’s your bed they’ve invaded—but a quick signal from Wonyoung’s long fingers erases that doubt, calling you over to join them.
“Started without me, huh?” you ask, as you climb onto the bed to get a closer view to the fun they’re having, this lewd display in front of you.
Yujin's unapologetic, effulgent smile is enough of an answer. She’s eating Wonyoung out with so much reckless abandon, her tongue buried inside that sweet little cunt. “Daddy took too long, and our princess here just tastes so fucking good.”
You can’t really blame her. You’d do the same. Wonyoung tastes like the best types of candy all rolled into one, such tangy, delectable sweetness that’s irresistible, impossible to get your mouth off her until you’ve made her cum six ways to Sunday.
And the way Wonyoung moans makes this even more arousing, these cute whimpers slipping out of her open lips, writhing in your sheets with each careful lick. Yujin’s not even going for the kill yet, shoving her tongue inside that needy hole as she takes it nice and slow, enjoying her pussy like fine wine. Now that you’ve joined, the slurps that fill the room get even louder, Yujin refusing to take a moment to breathe, lapping up Wonyoung’s delicious juices that soak her chin with just how wet that tasty pussy is.
“Fuck! You’re so good, so good at that, don’t stop, don’t stop, oh god, fuck, don’t stop—“
Yujin gets this insatiable look in her eyes, because she can eat pussy like nobody else, so effortlessly, like it’s her job. She knows Wonyoung’s body better than her own, knows all the right nerves to hit. With this insatiable need, she plays with Wonyoung’s swollen clit using short flicks of her tongue, both teasing and giving an overwhelming amount of pleasure, just driving the girl into an intoxicating state of bliss.
It’s fucking beautiful how sensitive Wonyoung gets in such a short span of time, and Yujin is utterly relentless, selfishly indulging herself in this shameless feast, sloppy as can be, dragging her tongue through every bit of that delicious cunt.
There’s precision in that tongue, and Yujin eats Wonyoung out like she wants to show off how fast she’ll make her cum, because it’s embarrassing how easy it is to turn the poor thing into a puddle. And when Yujin finds that sweet spot, she makes Wonyoung absolutely lose it, with her fingers all tangled in the sheets; makes her arch right off the mattress as that pretty face contorts in new unimaginable ways.
“Yu-ji—Yuj—fuck!” Wonyoung can’t even think of enough words to beg with, and her cries grow into these pathetic sobs, hips bucking on their own, as she’s trying to keep herself right on Yujin's lips. It’s quite unfair, that Yujin can turn either of you into a begging mess without trying, because her oral skills are next level, and the worst part is she knows how good she is and how easy she can make someone cum.
That arrogance grows, and Yujin is so enamored with the noises she gets Wonyoung to make, how easy it is to make her fall apart. Because she can pull back at any time, drunk on this power she holds over her that gives so many unfair advantages.
“What do you think, daddy?” Yujin asks, looking in your direction when she comes up to breathe, but doesn’t dare grant any respite, fingers frantically rubbing that throbbing little clit. “Should we let her cum?”
It’s devilish the way she asks, sinful the way she takes authority over Wonyoung’s desires—the prospect of denial a powerful high for her. There’s nothing better than seeing how Wonyoung gets such a pleading look in her eyes destined for tears, and you’re more than happy to watch Yujin edge the poor girl to oblivion. But you’ve also endured the worst of Yujin’s torturous ways too many times to count, so you know what it’s like to experience such agonizing desperation.
“Let her cum,” you say, while Yujin dives back in, licking Wonyoung’s pretty cunt with that skilled tongue that sends her flying down a path of delirium, falling apart realizing she won’t have to work for her climax. “She’s earned this one.”
Yujin can’t find any reasons to disagree, and rewards Wonyoung with such merciless slurps of her clit that’s going to have her making a mess in no time. It’s not often that Yujin doesn’t spend time playing with her food, but she’s so ruthless in her assault, because god, you know firsthand what that mouth can do to a person,
“You heard him, princess. Be a good girl and cum for us.”
There isn’t anything else that Wonyoung can do at this point, when her impending orgasm bubbles right under the surface. Yujin doesn't plan on slowing down her pace, giving it her all with nothing but unyielding strokes of her tongue, and works through every spot that gives the most priceless reactions.
“Y-Yujin, please, keep—fuck, please—“ It’s a mishmash of incoherence that Wonyoung can barely voice out, scrambling for anything in reach, the first thing she finds being your wrist as she pulls on it, her nails almost breaking the skin. Yujin makes a last ditch effort to draw out more whines, more of that sweet nectar, because she can’t get enough of how it spills onto her tongue while she licks Wonyoung just the right way, until her legs start to tremble, until she’s squirming without any self-control as she holds tight on your forearm. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop, don’t—“
Wonyoung makes these breathless noises while her mouth hangs open, toes curling into the sheets—then she’s cumming on Yujin’s face without a shred of reluctance, making a total mess that she loves being responsible for. Yujin loves when she can get Wonyoung like this, get her face all covered in those delicious juices, but it’s not enough when she turns her into a shaky, uncontrollable wreck, so helplessly writhing in your sheets.
When Yujin doubles down without any warning, you can’t say you expected anything less. Her fingers get so deep in Wonyoung’s cunt that’s an utter wet mess, and you can just hear the squelch, how fucking drenched she is. That’s not enough for Yujin, who gets her mouth back on that oversensitive clit, lashing her tongue over the pink bud, all while frantically pumping away into her heat without any remorse, working both in tandem.
“No, s-stop, please—no more, I c-can’t—“ Wonyoung begs, her voice coming out strangled and weak, but Yujin ignores anything coming out of her lips as she works her fingers in a frenetic way, curling them inside knuckle deep.
“But you told me not to stop, didn’t you? Which is it, princess? Don’t you wanna cum again for us?” Uninterested in Wonyoung’s cries of protest, Yujin’s going to keep this train of overstimulation going, wringing another orgasm out of her—
And before you know it, she’s squirting all over your sheets, Yujin’s merciless fingers, and wherever else she’s allowed to.
Wonyoung’s overwhelmed to tears when she’s finishing out her second climax, but Yujin isn’t showing any intentions to stop, just ruining the poor thing to pieces, sending her through all these endless spasms that keep a smirk etched on her devilish lips.
It’s beyond evident Wonyoung can’t take it anymore, but that hasn’t stopped Yujin before. She’s intent on keeping those climaxes going by rubbing the poor girl’s sensitive clit in these unforgiving circles, staining your sheets with endless, violent gushes of squirt, like she’s getting off on how many times she can make Wonyoung get off. Only when she has her fill of sadistic pleasure does Yujin ease off, fingers absolutely drenched in arousal that she brings to her lips, making such a lewd display of cleaning them off before planting soft kisses on Wonyoung’s pussy that almost brings her to the brink of one more forceful climax.
“That’s our good girl,” Yujin says, climbing up Wonyoung's breathless form, and it finally seems like she’s done with her, stroking the pretty locks of her hair until the intense trembles start to dissipate, allowing some much needed rest.
Yujin’s attention snaps right back to you, which you’re happy to have, because that performance she’s been putting on has maintained your arousal, keeping all the blood rushing in your cock. “Daddy—“
That pause she takes makes you nervous. There’s such an overwhelming look of desire to have your cock buried deep in any part of her, getting the gears in your head turning, and there’s this mess of anticipation while you wait for what words come next.
“While our Wonyoungie rests…”
Again, there’s another moment of hesitation that makes your heart beat faster, and Yujin looks directly into your eyes in such an enticing way when she asks, ”How about you figure out how you want to fuck me?”
One of the things that you’ve come to appreciate about Yujin is how she doesn’t mince words: she’s every bit direct when offering herself up on a silver platter. The possibilities are endless, and with your imagination running wild, it’s nearly impossible to narrow it down to one.
“So, what will it be, daddy? Wanna get me on all fours? Or maybe I can ride you for a while, bounce on that thick cock until you cum. Any position you want—I can just lay here on the bed while you ram that cock in me. Whatever gets a load into me the fastest.”
All these options form this limitless menu that you could sort through forever, but deep down there’s one thing you really want, one thing that Wonyoung’s never even had before, that Yujin loves almost more than getting your cum in her, and it makes you stroke your cock just thinking about it.
“Fuck, I want your ass—wanna get you all stretched out, get my cock deep in you—want our little princess to watch me pound your tight little asshole.”
Yujin is delighted by your answer, and reaches into your nightstand drawer, pulling out a familiar bottle of lubricant (one that’s half empty, which reminds you to make a mental note to order a bigger bottle next time). Wonyoung’s still all but passed out in her haze, which works out just fine, because you won’t have any distractions to deal with.
The clear bottle gets put in your hands, and before you can open it, Yujin’s far too eager for her own good. “From behind?”
“Yeah, from behind.” It’s the classic choice, although while there’s some appeal in having her ride you with a dick in her ass, it doesn’t quite let you see all of Yujin as you would like, nor does it let you see how hard you’re going to make those cheeks bounce. Once the option gets finalized, Yujin shuffles into position and props herself right next to Wonyoung, balancing her knees into the mattress, while she leans forward on her forearms, palms flat on the sheets.
It’s quite a breathtaking view—it always is, all those voluptuous curves at your disposal when you find your place behind Yujin, palming those wide hips, and that juicy thick ass that you’re just moments away from filling all up.
Yujin’s a little more than impatient as you pop the top of the lube, spilling plenty of it right into her puckered hole, then fingering it all in. This part always gets you excited the most, feeling the heavenly tightness of her perfectly snug asshole, but you swear Yujin would rather skip the prep than waste time, as if anything other than a finger could fit in there unprepared.
Still, you don't deny yourself time to play with that hole, slipping a glistening finger in until it just about disappears, and even then it’s so suffocating around one digit, making you throb just thinking about how that same tightness will feel around your cock. After prying your finger out, Yujin is more than ready when she looks over her shoulder in anticipation, and you can’t help but give that thick ass a spank as you’re jerking lube into your cock, giving yourself some necessary relief at the same time.
Once Yujin is all good and prepped, you put one hand on her hip, and press the swollen head of your cock right against her asshole, taking your sweet time trying to enter. You hold your breath and savor the moment of trying to slide past that tense ring of muscle—even though Yujin’s an expert at taking a cock up her ass, you’ll have to show remarkable restraint, since no matter how much she relaxes, it’s just not going to go in right away.
“Fuck,” you groan out, prodding your cock at this tight barrier that feels like it’ll never give. ”Yujin, god—your asshole is just so fucking tight…”
It’s almost like a test, like Yujin wants you exhaustively overwhelmed before she’ll relax enough for you to slip in. But that’s all part of the fun, slowly working through the tight rim of her ass, that inviting stretch that never gets old, all the lube doing its part until somehow your cockhead slips in without much effort.
“Mm—daddy, more, need more…”
There’s not a hint of demand in Yujin’s tone, all this pure desire dripping like honey in her voice when she lets out all these tenuous whines. You’re not even an inch inside her ass, but it’s already too burdensome to slip more inside that hot little asshole. And yet, you can tell she just wants you to split her open.
“Daddy, come on. Need you, need you all in my ass. Don’t you wanna open me up?” And she asks that like you haven’t been trying your best, haven’t been fighting this uphill battle since you’ve lubed up your cock. Then there’s this moment—this fleeting moment where Yujin stops being all tense, where you can slide deeper, and the deeper you go, the less resistance you get, Yujin’s tight ass swallowing up more, inch by inch.
You’re almost to the hilt, and Yujin’s got clenched fistfuls of your sheets, uttering a gamut of whimpers as more of your cock disappears into her ass, absolutely driven to bottom her out.
"Just like that," Yujin tells you, like you’re already not being driven mad by how tight her asshole makes your cock feel, this intense suffocating grip that you just need a little more, just another inch or so to fill it all—
“You better not go easy on her.“
Lying on her side, Wonyoung’s gotten her energy back, and she’s just waiting for the show to start—this not so subtle reminder that she loves watching you two fuck. In typical fashion, she doesn’t want to be left out even if she’s not participating in this, and it gives you yet another excuse to not hold back.
“Oh, you’re awake. Just in time to watch how daddy’s going to stretch my ass.”
“I wasn’t—whatever, you better ruin that ass until she can’t walk,” Wonyoung says when she looks in your direction, and it’s funny how bossy she gets even in situations she’s not involved with.
“Don’t you worry. Daddy’s gonna destroy my asshole, isn’t that right?”
You don’t make any effort to answer a painfully obvious question, and instead pull your hips back to send your first swift stroke right into Yujin’s perfect ass, groaning for more. For now, you can’t quite thrust the way you like, the way Yujin wants you to, but you’ll get there soon enough as you start out slow and deliberate, moving your hips in short bursts of satisfaction. The more your dick slides in this slick little asshole, the more you open it right up, each thrust more greedy than the last, and Yujin is so eager to accept all of your length, just waiting for you to bury yourself in that thick ass.
“Its, fuck—it’s so big, daddy,” Yujin says, already falling apart by the time you manage the first thrust balls deep, and then you’re doing it again, then again, and again, your strokes beginning to deepen, your shaft disappearing in her ass with ease.
Now that you've conquered any leftover resistance, opened Yujin all the way up to accommodate your cock, nothing stands in the way from grabbing those sinful hips, holding her steady as you settle right into this quick, feverish rhythm, sliding into that tight asshole over and over, stuffing her full with your dick.
And you’re not the least bit gentle, gathering momentum as you plunge harder, your hips sending harsh slaps into the flesh of Yujin’s ass that jiggles with each thrust, driving you wild when you pump into her tight hole, fitting your cock all the way in. “Yujin—gonna fucking ruin this ass, gonna make this tight little hole mine.”
To prove your point, you slam your cock into her ass without a care, and it’s absolutely sinful how Yujin looks so needy like this, bent over in this obscene angle on her hands and knees that’s just begging you to give it to her without mercy.
Then as you dig fingers deeper into those hips, fucking Yujin nice and deep to oblige her desires, she’s pushing her body back onto you, getting you as deep as you’ll go while you pick up the pace with each subsequent thrust, until you’re pumping into her asshole in a rough, unforgiving rhythm that’s easy to get lost in.
“Daddy, your cock—it’s so perfect, please—just fuck me, my little asshole can handle it, just fucking pound me, show me how deep you can go,” Yujin says in between ragged breaths, as that ass relentlessly grips your shaft, refusing to release, claiming your cock for herself. It’s this breakneck pace that’s taking Yujin’s breath away, and she’s so content to be used like this, fists balled up in tight clenches while waiting for the next thrust.
“I don’t think you’re fucking her hard enough,” Wonyoung pipes in, getting a little too comfortable dictating on the sidelines. “I think she can handle more. Much more, come on, daddy, stretch her out with that big fucking cock.”
She’s not wrong—if Yujin is still coherent, then you haven’t done your job yet.
With every snap of your hips, those thick cheeks bounce hypnotically from the impact, and you want to keep that jiggle going, so you can't help give an open handed smack right on her round ass, relishing the startled gasp that leaves her lips when you do it once more.
“You can do better than that, can’t you, daddy? Smack that fat ass harder,” Wonyoung demands, and she’s pulling the strings a little too well for comfort. And yet—you’re inclined to follow those orders, so you smack Yujin’s ass again harder, much harder, leaving a reddening handprint on the flesh, taking in how it moves underneath your palm.
You can't help indulging yourself (and Wonyoung) with a few more, one after the other, spanking Yujin’s beautiful ass until the imprints overlap into this canvas of different shades.
"Harder, smack that fucking ass harder, daddy. Make it hurt, make it hurt so fucking good," Yujin pleas, and she’s too far gone in bliss, enjoying this role reversal that really gets you going, really gets your hips moving, because you’re just intent on dominating Yujin in ways you never have. It’s intoxicating, the power and leverage over her, just having your way with that tight impeccable body, and there’s nothing better than pounding her ass while you make those plump cheeks ripple.
It’s this perfect rhythm: a pop of your hips, a harsh thrust that hits balls deep in her asshole, then it’s followed by another smack on her ass—one that echoes, one that stings. Yujin just loves it, the pain that comes when your palm smacks that tender flesh, and the ripples never end, nor does the way her asshole clench tighter around your pistoning cock when you really give it to her like she deserves.
“This ass, Yujin, god—it just feels so fucking good,” you groan, and every time you smack that delicious flesh, Yujin lets out this delightful whine, each slap stinging more. “Do you know how much I love fucking your perfect little asshole?”
It’s rhetorical at best, but Yujin rolls her hips back into every stroke, trying to grant you even more access to wreck her ass, to get you somehow even deeper. Ever so often you catch yourself looking at Wonyoung for approval, your palm slapping with such impact that rips these helpless moans from Yujin’s throat. And then you fall in the same rhythm of your relentless thrusts, just pounding away like your hips move with a mind of their own.
Once you’ve found the perfect pace, there’s a countless number of marks all over Yujin’s ass, evidence of your handiwork that makes you grin at how red and tender those cheeks are. Your focus pivots into drilling Yujin’s stretched out hole at such a blistering pace that puts a grin on Wonyoung's oh so wicked lips.
Having control like this feels so unfamiliar, but you’ll savor every moment, as it’s not often Yujin gives it up so easily, just melting and letting herself get claimed like this. You get so greedy with your hips, driving yourself the hardest, deepest you can into her wrecked little hole that gapes on every thrust, fucking Yujin with all the force your hips can give, unwilling to slow down for anything.
“So good, daddy feels so fucking good, fuck—I love how you’re stretching out my asshole. Just ruin me, fucking ruin me, don’t stop fucking me like this, don’t fucking stop until I can feel your thick cum, fill my ass up, daddy.”
Yujin’s completely drunk on bliss, this absolute mess of euphoria that renders her nearly incomprehensible as she’s losing whatever leftover dominance lingers in her words.
“You heard her. Make sure she can’t fucking walk.” Wonyoung stares you into submission, as your thrusts get so reckless and beyond manageable. Yujin gets forced flat onto her stomach by your momentum, her legs flailing back helplessly and stretching out underneath your thighs until she’s lying prone on the sheets with her feet hanging off the edge of the mattress.
“There you go, much better. Pound her ass like a fucking whore, daddy,” Wonyoung says, the words that she’s spewing a complete 180, devoid of anything resembling elegance, and you’ve never been happier to obey them.
With your legs spread around either side of Yujin’s frame, you take greedy handfuls of those meaty cheeks for leverage, and ream into that poor asshole. Never do you break stride as you mercilessly fuck her into the mattress, drilling her ass in such a debaucherous fashion without remorse, testing the springs of your bed.
Yujin’s gotten so used to this treatment, eating it all up while she’s gotten so easy to defile, so easy for her greedy little asshole to devour your entire shaft, like it belongs there, like it has no plans on relinquishing that perfect grip.
And somehow, Yujin still feels so unimaginably tight despite everything you’ve done, despite how far you can bury your cock in that ruined hole. Maybe, you think, there’s some new angle you can hit, some new part of her that hasn’t been stretched out past its; you’re going to keep trying, going to keep destroying that ass and using her body until your cock can’t take it any longer.
“He’s fucking you so deep, isn’t he, Yujinnie? Getting that gaped little asshole ready for a huge fucking load?” You’ve gotten your fingers deep into the pillowy softness of Yujin’s ass, kneading at the delicate flesh that’s still all tender and red. Every word that escapes from Wonyoung spurs you on, urging your hips to keep this up as you work your way up Yujin’s sweaty back, snaking up her body until you reach those gorgeous messy locks that you’ve got your sights on.
And even before you get your fingers all tangled up, Yujin's chasing a final breath as you get more than a little familiar with each set of strands, grabbing deep handfuls to tug on. While Yujin can handle a rough fuck on any given day, pulling her hair like this does something extra to her, wrings out every little morsel of pleasure, makes her almost tear your sheets to shreds until she’s absolutely drooling into your mattress.
It’s then that Yujin makes these desperate, incoherent sounds that fuel your thrusts, equal parts wanton moans and whines, just all fucked out as she lies prone, embracing every forceful stroke into her ass, never ever satisfied enough.
“That’s my girl, that’s my Yujin, taking this dick so fucking well, aren’t you?” Her asshole feels so broken in by now, so accustomed to this ruthless approach of ramming your length in her, that it’s become second nature to take you so deep. There’s not a shred of mercy while you pull yourself into a squat, feet flat on the mattress, knees bent, as you absolutely drill Yujin, like she’s the most perfect toy made to take your cock.
“He’s really giving it to you, fucking you so hard and so deep. You like being daddy’s little fleshlight?” Wonyoung asks, with a no less than healthy dose of condescension in her tone as you keep Yujin pinned into the mattress, not giving her a moment to rest as you throw aside any last remnants of restraint and hammer that tight asshole with the only intention to fill it up to the brim.
“You’re just ruining daddy’s sheets, huh? And you’re just taking it all, every fucking inch, aren’t you? Fuck, your ass must feel so full of his dick right now.”
“Jealous?” Yujin asks, without even turning her head, and her voice sounds so strained, so blissed out. It isn't everyday she plays the part of submissive toy, letting you defile her body in such ways you’ve never been able to imagine as you pull on those soft strands of hair to angle her ass right for you to fit into. That warm asshole never disappoints, wrapped around you like a vice, and if you keep this up you might just—
“No, not even the littlest bit,” Wonyoung fires back, and she sounds rather insulted. “I’m just here to watch you get fucked like a good little toy, like the needy slut you are.”
As much as you’re enjoying this little back-and-forth, and as euphoric as it is to pound away at her gaped little hole, there’s so little you can do to resist your impending climax, because this isn’t sustainable, and you’re about to fucking explode inside Yujin.
"Y-you're—fuck—you’re so deep, so fucking deep. Daddy, give me that load, want it so bad—you’re gonna cum inside me, right? Want my asshole filled with all your hot cum, please—“
Yujin’s begging like her life depends on it, and it’s not like she can’t feel the twitches your cock makes whenever you get in balls deep, or how your breathing gets so erratic, like she doesn’t know you’re seconds away from throbbing to release.
You’re just counting the breaths left until you explode.
When your hands drop from those sweaty strands, you slide down her toned back, getting a good handful of ass to help smack right before the point of no return, plunging every last inch into Yujin in one last devastating thrust.
“Cum in her, fucking fill her little asshole,“ Wonyoung says, helping encourage your finale, doing her part to help drain your balls. “Wanna see you fuck a load into that pretty ass.”
Nothing you do could prevent otherwise, staying buried to the hilt while you bottom out one last time, until the tight clench of her puckered hole finishes the job. It's like there's a collective breath being let out as you start spilling into Yujin's asshole, all this hot cum filling her insides in these hot, powerful spurts that she’s milking all out, that make you groan when they shoot up from your tip into her ass, making violent throbs along with them.
There’s no better relief than this, having Wonyoung here while you flood Yujin’s wrecked hole up with cum, her walls somehow gripping tighter on your spurting cock as they urge every last drop out. Your thrusts keep every bit of strength as you spill and spill, lips kissing at the crook of Yujin’s neck so she can hear you moan directly in her ears. Yujin revels in hearing her own name when your climax keeps going, this euphoric feeling of being pumped full of warm seed invigorating her, and you know she can make a mess in your sheets from anal alone.
The bliss lasts forever—and even when you’re spent, exhausted almost beyond repair, you can’t stop moving your hips, fucking that load deeper inside her. All you want is to remain inside that heavenly ass, just stay nestled into that warm asshole for as long as possible, but Yujin’s writhing underneath you, ready to show off that thick dripping load.
Pulling out takes Herculean effort, but you want to enjoy the fruits of your labor, see how much cum Yujin has taken from you—what feels like the biggest load of your life. As you lament the loss of her tightness around you, the sight more than compensates. That gaping little hole oozes out an absolute mess, one spurt turning into several, this mesmerizing, pearlescent hot load that leaks from inside Yujin and carelessly falls onto your sheets like there won't be any end to it.
It’s a view that’ll be etched in your mind forever, Yujin in such a ruined state, spreading her cheeks to proudly display how gaped you’ve made her wrecked asshole as it leaks out your load in intermittent dribbles, and you wish you could rewind the clock and experience this all over again.
"Shit, Yujin," you whisper under your breath, not finding a better way to vocalize your raw euphoria, not even believing all this thick cum you managed to dump into her.
“Not bad, I guess,” Wonyoung says, always needing to have the final say—but she can only hide so much pretend apathy in her voice, scooting a little closer to get a proper view, and rests her hand on your back like a way of praising you for a job well done. She looks so pleased with herself, this devious smile on her lips like she’s going to take all the credit for your load leaking out of Yujin.
Before you can say anything in response, with little time to bask in the aftermath after you’ve slumped over besides Yujin, Wonyoung pulls your cock by the base closer to her mouth, taking that sensitive cockhead between those warm, plump lips and sucks what last bit of cum she can coax out.
“Fuck, hey—it’s sensitive,” you hiss in protest, but you know that doesn’t matter one bit to her. She’s learned from the master.
“I know. That’s the best part.”
Wonyoung starts sucking at the very tip, where the last remains of your essence are, sliding her lips down to your base in one fluid motion. Those lips are a blessing and a curse, so eager to clean your cock off, but it’s hard to enjoy the warmth of her mouth when you’re this fucking sensitive.
“If you want daddy’s cum so much, why don't you get over here and eat it out of my ass?" Yujin asks, in this absolute shameless way that is all the invitation she needs.
Wonyoung barely lets the words leave Yujin's mouth before dropping your cock with a greedy slurp, scrambling on the bed to position her lips so she can get a taste. Her tongue rolls out and licks up that spilled seed, hungrily lapping at Yujin's ravaged hole. There's not an ounce of timidness as she plunges in deep, tongue swirling around with intent to clean up every last bit of your load, sucking and licking it right out of Yujin’s asshole.
Yujin's clearly enjoying herself too, letting out little soft moans as Wonyoung gets her tongue buried inside that rim, lapping away, looking so desperate, so hungry.
“I think our princess really likes the taste of my ass,” Yujin teases, looking over her shoulder as Wonyoung works on cleaning her asshole. She’s long past gathering your cum out of it, just getting in there with that tongue as she takes the time to swirl around it, getting that puckered hole all nice and wet with saliva.
“Fuck, she’s almost as good at eating my ass as you are, daddy,” Yujin says, and you want to defend yourself, but you have no words. There’s no point in speaking when you can just watch Wonyoung tonguefuck Yujin’s asshole, spreading those cheeks as wide as they’ll go while she has all this urgency, her tongue getting so sloppy and invested with how the older girl tastes.
When she’s had her fill (which takes a while, because Wonyoung eats her ass like there wasn’t nearly enough cum to clean), you end up in this twisted pile of naked bodies, caught in the middle. While you lay there exhausted, catching your breath, you wonder how it got to this point—how you’ve spent more time inside these women in the past few days than you have inside a classroom.
You’re all due for a nice, long shower, but well—you know what happens in there when Yujin’s involved. Instead, you share lazy kisses with both girls, indulging the intimacy, and savoring the silence that sets in. Again. you wonder how you managed to be this lucky, how these perfect girls with these perfect bodies want to be here more than anywhere else, sprawled out in your sheets, with all these plentiful curves, like the concept of clothes never existed.
This all feels like a surreal dream that you’re scared to pinch yourself out of, scared that this blissful fantasy will get swallowed up in the ether, spitting you out alone in a cold, empty bed.
But it’s all very real.
The cute giggles they make, their radiant smiles, the tender kisses they keep peppering on your chest, neck, and everywhere they please, this innocent way they mark your body as theirs.
Nothing could be better than their impossibly warm bodies pressed close against your own as you share these quiet moments, where you could just lay here staring at them forever.
“We’re not done yet, are we?” Wonyoung asks, after what feels like hours have gone by, tracing circles along your arm as she cuddles you.
While the physical exhaustion has taken its toll, not every part of you is convinced you can't go again—but you’re more than content to just lay in this mess of limbs and never move again.
You look over at Wonyoung, then the clock on your nightstand, seeing that it’s not even close to midnight. With no classes to get in the way of the morning, your options seem limitless, and these two girls that are smothering you with affection, you know there’s no worries about their stamina.
“That all depends,” Yujin begins, caressing your cheek in this mindless matter as she nuzzles in closer, her hot breath on your neck that makes you sink into the sheets. “What do you think, daddy? Do you have another load in you?”
Just the thought of moving a muscle seems impossible, but you know this pair is just itching to deplete your reserves. “Dunno. I think I need a little convincing.”
✦ ✦
It turns out, both Wonyoung and Yujin, they’re very good at convincing you—with their mouths. A little diversion in the kitchen to down some water ends up with you sharing a tub of mint chocolate ice cream in the nude (of which is almost entirely eaten by Yujin and Wonyoung, but you'd never keep track).
Next thing you know, you’re gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, gazing down between your legs as these girls share your cock once more. And they put those ravenous lips to good use, a perfect combination of sloppy kisses and wet licks amid this strong suction that hollows out their cute cheeks.
This convincing technique, you find, is surprisingly effective, and you’ll say yes to just about anything at this stage to keep this messy blowjob going.
They could ask you to give them the sun, the moon, and the stars, and you’d oblige without hesitation, only to have their pillowy lips on your shaft, worshiping it with their slutty drooling mouths.
When this oral session shifts back to the living room, you’re the one who’s getting greedy, because hey, you’ve earned a little bit of self-indulgence. Wonyoung's upside-down, laying mostly on the couch as her head dangles off the edge, mouth full of your cock, while you fuck her throat in these unforgiving thrusts. Yujin’s got her hands preoccupied as well, not missing a chance to play with Wonyoung’s body, pinching a nipple here, sliding a finger or two in that wet cunt, or keeping a hand wrapped around her throat so she can feel your shaft bulging it.
If you were to describe Wonyoung’s current state, messy would be underselling it—she looks like a wreck, eyes starting to roll back from how deep you shove your cock down her throat, saliva spilling from those lips. Those perfect fucking lips were made for swallowing your cock balls deep.
Wonyoung might be choking on your cock a little more than usual, tears welling up at the corner of her eyes, and there’s just drool everywhere, but hey, what better way to practice than having you fuck her face upside-down?
Yujin’s there to guide her through it, offering the occasional encouragement with Wonyoung lying vertically, angled in just the right way that has you pounding into her throat without respite, defiling that face like her mouth is this pretty little toy designed to please you.
“That's a good fucking girl," Yujin tells her, and she knows the praise will only get Wonyoung more aroused—because her gurgles become louder, sloppier, lips pursing out when you just ram down her throat in merciless strokes, testing the absolute limits of her gag reflex.
"Look at you, princess, being such a good little fucktoy,” Yujin continues, while she keeps fingers gently wrapped around Wonyoung’s neck, not applying any pressure but feeling your thrusts, trying to gauge the outline of your cock within her throat. “That pretty mouth must be making daddy feel so fucking good.”
All that praise could get Wonyoung off almost as much as two fingers curled in her cunt, but all Yujin hears in response is a strained gurgle and more heavy gags as you hold your cock down her throat, watching how her dark mascara runs while your balls press against her nose.
Wonyoung struggles now more than ever, unable to maintain any semblance of composure, but you’re less concerned with fucking her face, and more interested in using her throat as as cocksleeve to keep your shaft warm. You take such long, selfish plunges, and just hold your cock there—your length stuffed deep down her throat until she gags. Then you pull out and shove yourself back in, repeating this brutal defilement of her face that makes you throb, makes Wonyoung drip between her thighs, makes Yujin proud to watch it all.
It’s messy, so fucking messy how Wonyoung’s gorgeous face can get borderline unrecognizable with how ruined her makeup is, drool spilling off her face to the carpet. That’s the best part, testing her, training her throat to take more of you. It feels like absolute fucking heaven to use her throat like this, but you can only withstand so much more of it.
“Daddy must be close. Princess, do you wanna have him bust all over that pretty face?” Wonyoung’s not in a position to answer, but everyone knows the response regardless. After one more thrust buried down her throat, you withdraw with these messy strings connecting your cock to her lips, and then you help her off the couch, get her kneeling right on the floor in front of you.
It takes every ounce of self-restraint not to explode in an instant—looking over this gorgeous mess of a girl that waits for you to make her even more of a mess, beautiful eyes pleading while you leisurely stroke your spit-drenched cock in front of her face.
“Daddy…” Wonyoung whines, and doesn’t even wipe any of the saliva that’s dripping from her face, letting it just run along her chin, down to her chest, her thighs and everywhere it wants. “Want you to blow a big fucking load on my face. Wanna be covered.”
Between those mascara smudged eyes, and the massive load you can feel churning in your balls, there couldn't be a more inviting target. Your grip gets tighter, fist coiled around your slick cock while you stroke at a maddening pace, and Wonyoung keeps her mouth hanging open, tongue out in preparation, as you give yourself a few final pumps, and then—
You cum hard with a violent groan, that milky white explosion coating Wonyoung’s face with the first big spurt, which makes her recoil at the volume of cum that hits her forehead and the bridge of her nose, trickling down towards her cheeks. You don't let her think too long, the next shot hitting her lips and her waiting tongue, and you keep blasting your load over that angelic face in an aimless direction, some ending up in her hair, others dripping down her chin.
You feel there’s no end to this as you unload on Wonyoung's face, covering those pristine features in such a thick massive load, painting her with hot white spurts that continue to blast out onto her cheeks, nose, and everywhere in between. Yujin watches it all inches away, how this hot, messy facial makes Wonyoung look even prettier, unable to stifle a laugh while she grins, because there isn’t a greater sight to her than your cum decorating that pristine face.
When it’s all over, Wonyoung basks in it, keeping her tongue out as the final spurts splash her, your heavy load dripping at a glacial pace. And it’s just absurd how good this girl looks covered in your cum, her face the absolute perfect canvas to be painted white.
“Messy little slut,” Yujin says, and there’s a unified laugh as the three of you savor the moment, what an absolute mess Wonyoung is.
✦ ✦
It goes without saying (or maybe someone should say it to her face), that Wonyoung’s a little too obsessed with her phone.
There’s hardly a moment when it’s not glued between her fingers, when she’s not throwing money at a new game (because it’s absolutely necessary that she has all the cute characters, like she’ll die without them). So it’s not surprising that Wonyoung needs to fetch her phone just to take a post-facial selfie, and still manages to make this cute expression through all the cum dripping down her face, tongue out, fingers in a v pose.
You’re sure Wonyoung’s already sent a copy to each of your phones, the perfect way to preserve such a filthy sight, because this little voyeur loves to keep evidence when the moment is right.
Not only is Wonyoung a natural in front of the camera, but she also excels at sending these naked selfies during all the wrong moments, (it’s like she knows the exact moment you step into a classroom full of people). And of course, she has a fondness when there’s someone (or herself) capturing her getting railed, so she can get off to it later when she doesn’t have class, when there’s nobody home to take care of her exhaustive needs.
You don’t get nearly enough time to enjoy your fresh load on Wonyoung’s ruined face before you’re dragged away by your aching cock towards the hallway. It’s the one that leads up to the stairwell, that’s got a full-length mirror that gets used by the girls to check themselves before heading out.
Before you can breathe, you’re pushed up against the opposite wall, where you can get a good view of Yujin’s delicious ass in the reflection. Yet, it’s hard to focus on those appetizing cheeks when she’s jerking your cock with an iron grip, as if she’s trying to stroke all the sensitivity out of it. Yujin gets a good rhythm going until she spins around on her heels, so you can get an up-close look at that perfect ass, and those absurdly thick thighs that have gone far too long without being wrapped around your head.
“Before we have our way with this naughty little princess, wanna have some fun with my thighs, daddy? I know how much you love them…”
The sultriness in Yujin’s voice causes your length to throb with need in her firm grasp, even after blowing such a huge load minutes before. You simply nod along to her little tease, taking in how beautiful her naked body is as she guides your hands to her hips, those insanely wide hips that you love squeezing, leaving marks on when you sink into the deepest parts of her from behind.
Being mentally prepared for what’s about to ensue does little, and you almost erupt again the instant Yujin squeezes her heavenly thighs together around your dick, that soft, inviting flesh snug around your length. The first few strokes of you fucking those glorious thighs are fast, greedy, and every bit desperate to keep your cock stimulated, to feel that silkiness of that bare flesh that hugs your length so well.
“Fuck…” you groan, because it feels too good not to voice your pleasure.
Wonyoung’s in the bathroom during all this, cleaning her face from the massive load you left on it, (and probably taking more cum-glazed selfies), when she comes back to the sight of you fucking Yujin’s delicious thighs in front of the mirror. Her throat’s still pretty raw from the pounding it just took, so Wonyoung leans up against the wall, keeping her eyes on how your cock slides through all this perfect, supple flesh that makes up Yujin’s thighs. All she can really do is let out an envious sigh.
Yujin’s bouncy thighs suffocate your throbbing cock, inching closer with each stroke, every needy thrust alongside her pink, dripping lips coating your trapped shaft with her nectar, and it feels as if you could erupt again any second from this relentless friction. You’ll stay in there until she can claim another load, until you’re moaning her name again, which may not be too long with how sensitive you are right now.
There’s nothing leaving your lips at this point, just tired moans when you’re watching this unfold through the mirror, how your cock gets wetter with every thrust, your fingers digging deeper into the flesh of her hips. It’s not quite as fulfilling as slamming into Yujin’s tight pussy or that asshole, but it’s enough of a delicate squeeze to get you moaning, get your precum leaking down those thighs, which is really all Yujin could ask for.
From Wonyoung’s perspective, all she can see is your tip frantically sliding through as you fuck these meaty thighs that surround your cock in so much flesh, and it’s hard to find any sort of rhythm when that familiar pressure catches you by surprise. “Yujin—“
One strained word and she knows, leading you closer towards the hallway mirror, until your tip almost touches the glass. It’s inevitable, when your cock gets squeezed this way by her juicy thighs, that you’re not lasting another minute.
Wonyoung looks on, but remains suspiciously silent when you give Yujin’s hips one more desperate squeeze, one more deep thrust between her thighs—and then you’re groaning her name on your lips, spraying the mirror with hot, sticky spurts that cling to the glass. Another thrust, and another shot of cum blasts the glass, and if you could crane your neck to see Wonyoung’s face you would see the jealousy etched, that she’s somehow envious of this inanimate object getting your load.
More thick streaks paint the glass, until your hips weaken, until your knees falter when you given all you’ve got, letting the final spurts all out, the tip of your cock kissing the cold mirror, an exclamation point on your hot, messy climax. When everything’s been exhausted from your balls, you slide out from those sticky thighs to observe how much of a mess you’ve made, so much cum pooling down that glass, staining it with your seed that trickles down all the way to the hardwood floor.
Wonyoung can’t take her eyes off all the thick cum that’s sprayed the hallway mirror, like she’ll do anything to taste it, which Yujin knows as she catches a fleeting glance, then gracefully sinks to her knees. “You can taste it when you’re the one who makes him cum.”
There’s no response but a pout. In that brief silence, Yujin slowly laps up the still warm, oozing semen, toying with it, sliding her tongue around the glass with these careful little licks to consume it all. You’ve never seen such a deflated look from Wonyoung, despite having the honors of earning your first shot of cum, she’s greedy for more, this insatiable, spoiled girl.
With one more long lick, Yujin cleans up your mess, until the mirror gets as spotless as it can be, and smiles at herself through the mirror before turning towards you both. She gets up, sucks it all down, and gives Wonyoung a kiss, who’s rather reluctant to return it given the emptiness of her mouth, but it’s at least this indirect way of getting to taste your cock, and Wonyoung would rather have that than nothing at all.
“Greedy little cumslut,” Wonyoung says, which surprises Yujin for a moment before she laughs it off while everyone exits the hallway.
✦ ✦
It’s midnight, or 2 am, you don’t even know anymore. The sun isn’t up which is all that matters, because the bedroom you're in (you’re pretty sure it’s Yujin’s but can’t quite remember) has the most beautiful view of the skyline via this large panoramic window with its curtains drawn back which lets the moon shine in. Wonyoung has had ample time to put on a fresh layer of makeup, and somehow you’ve all shared a shower without any incidents, mostly because you think Yujin’s got something devious cooked up.
When you're all settled in, Wonyoung is the only one dressed, wearing this gorgeous set of red lingerie with black stockings underneath a white silky robe, which answers why she took her sweet time in the bathroom getting all dolled up again.
Yujin quickly undoes the robe and casts it aside, leaving it crumpled on the floor as her hands roam over Wonyoung's divine body. It’s a whole ritual of admiration, how Yujin is bestowing the girl before you like this grandiose gift that’s been offered up, all adorned in lace, ribbons, and nylon, just waiting to be unwrapped. All this attention puts a shy smile on her face, because she can feel you undressing her with your eyes, and Yujin is not even remotely discreet, keeping those hands moving along her petite figure in an utterly shameless fashion.
Staying behind Wonyoung, Yujin gets all handsy, groping that tight body while she kisses the side of her delicate neck, then trails fingers down that toned abdomen, unsure of where they’ll stop. Surprisingly, Yujin is showing remarkable restraint—you know if she had her way, all that lace would be in a ripped pile on the floor, and she’d fuck Wonyoung to an early orgasm or two.
But so far, Yujin seems satisfied with merely appreciating her body, and honestly, so are you. It’s a decadent sight, how all that lace clings to her perky breasts, and you’re jealous of how Yujin has a much better view of her round ass. But the vantage point you have on the bed isn’t half bad, letting you take in those never-ending legs wrapped in enticing nylons, her body a true feast for your eyes.
“Our little princess looks so fucking sexy like this, doesn’t she, daddy?" Yujin asks, but Wonyoung keeps fidgeting from the delicate kisses placed all across her neck, unable to stay still, squirming as those hands graze all across her hot skin.
When Wonyoung looks this stunning, there's not much you can say in reply, that lace doing wonders for her body, and those stockings help accentuate her long legs just perfectly. She looks so ravishing, such a delectable treat you could eat all up. “Do you want him to fuck you? Do you want daddy to ruin that tight little cunt?”
These aren’t difficult questions, but Wonyoung still has trouble getting out a desperate nod. It’s not helping when Yujin brushes fingers over her breasts through the fabric of her bra, with taunting touches so light they can hardly be felt, just to get that anticipation going.
“Didn’t hear an answer, princess.”
Wonyoung seems like she’s forgotten what words are, too flustered from these grazes that have her biting her lip, and it’s only going to get harder for the poor girl. “Y-yes—“ she gasps out, this barely coherent syllable when Yujin starts to squeeze her breasts, getting those nipples nice and hard through her bra, awakening all that sensitivity.
“What was that? Couldn’t hear a thing, princess.” Yujin has this whole thing figured out, this meticulous plan to drive all the patience out of Wonyoung, stripping her defenses down like she plans on stripping those clothes off.
“I-I want daddy to fuck me—please. I want him so fucking bad, want daddy inside me right now—want his cum filling me up.”
“That all depends on you then,” Yujin says in a disapproving voice which gets this welling frustration forming onto Wonyoung’s pretty little face as she looks your way, like you’re going to help her out.
“Come here.” Yujin helps guide Wonyoung closer to the glass, pressing a hand against her stomach until she’s up against the windowsill. You can see the sparkle in Yujin’s eyes when she raises one of Wonyoung’s arms and binds her delicate wrist with a black strap that’s already attached to the corner of the window.
Before Wonyoung realizes what’s happening, the same happens on the opposite side, until those slender arms are tethered to each side of the window, and she’s locked in place.
Yujin never runs out of surprises.
You keep a careful eye on Wonyoung trapped against the window in such a vulnerable situation, but there’s not so much as a single whine, nor any form of complaint. Maybe it's due to her complete trust in Yujin, or the thrill of being so helpless—but most likely she’s learning that she won’t always get her way. Regardless, these restraints feel natural to her, and get a wetness going between her legs that’s going to ruin her panties.
But unsurprisingly, this isn’t all, and the second part of this surprise comes when Yujin grabs something out of the nearest drawer—a long, black strip of fabric that she dangles in the air enticingly until you realize what it is. It’s a silk blindfold, and it gets you out of your seat when Yujin offers it over to you. Looking in Wonyoung’s eyes for reassurance, you use it to cover them up, blocking her vision and leaving her in nothing but darkness.
It’s unexpected how Wonyoung never offers up any hesitation, showing her trust in you both implicitly when she leaves herself so exposed like this.
“If it gets to be too much, speak up, princess,” Yujin says, who still has her hands on Wonyoung’s stomach, the lack of vision making those touches that much more intense.
“Mhmm,” is all Wonyoung offers up, while Yujin leaves a trail of tender, warm kisses that start on her cheek and go all the way down to her exposed shoulder, traveling downwards.
When Yujin gestures over to you, suddenly there’s two pairs of hands on Wonyoung’s tight body, aimlessly wandering all over that slender frame in a coordinated effort of exploration—she wouldn’t even know which is which if not for how soft Yujin’s are in comparison.
On your part, you focus on Wonyoung’s lower half, on those luscious legs that have no business being so distracting, just running your fingers down one thigh, tracing the delicate material of her stockings with playful, light strokes.
It makes Wonyoung sigh so heavily, and then you plant these little kisses on her thighs, the parts that aren’t covered by stockings getting covered by your lips as you give both your devotion, only pulling away when you near her panties. In the meantime, Yujin pulls down the front of Wonyoung's lace bra to get her tits out, but that’s all the attention they get, fully on display without a single finger laid upon them. Yujin, you see, would prefer to pay special care to the less sensitive parts of Wonyoung's body, like those well-defined abs perfect for planting the gentlest of kisses along, making her squirm with affection that she can’t even see coming.
Your path soon diverts as you appreciate this work of art with Yujin, laying kisses against Wonyoung’s flat stomach, then licking it all up in greedy, long stripes. It says something that this is where you’ve made your centerpiece of worship, this girl that’s almost all legs, with so many other defining characteristics to her name. Yet, you can’t be torn away, working in unison with Yujin to cover Wonyoung’s bare stomach with all these hungry kisses and licks that drive her wild.
“P-please—“ Wonyoung stammers out, and you can’t stop the smile spreading across your lips from hearing her plead so soon, all this constant stimulation doing a number on her.
You can only imagine how this feels on her end, bound and blindfolded as these wet little licks and pronounced lip smacks graze her stomach, igniting the lust inside. As you’re left alone for a moment, you mark up all this delicate flesh on your own, until Yujin reappears with something in hand, something that you soon recognize as white and silicone, something that for sure is destined to go inside Wonyoung.
Not a word gets uttered when Yujin powers it on, and there’s a low hum that fills the room, instantly changing the atmosphere as Wonyoung makes a nervous gasp. She’s left in suspense for far too long, until Yujin brings the vibrator into contact with her skin, running it down the inside of her thigh for a pitiful few seconds.
It’s a shallow preview, nothing more than a sample of ecstasy that lingers when Yujin pulls it away. She then trails the toy up to Wonyoung’s stomach, making slow, meandering circles before bringing it to her nipples—first the left, then the right—neither getting the attention deserved, and then it’s off her body without a sound but the whine she makes.
Yujin lifts it up in the air just shy of her ear, this cruel way of taunting before it goes anywhere of note. “Remember the first time I made you cum with this?”
The memories come flooding back when those words get whispered into Wonyoung’s ear, and Yujin drags the toy down the side of her neck, every little vibration setting her nerves on fire. She’s so helpless like this, unable to move while shrouded in darkness, her senses heightened as Yujin presses the toy into every sensitive part on her body except where she needs it the most.
“And then you begged me to do it again. And again. And again. I made you squirt for the first time that night, didn’t I?” Yujin goes on, and she drops to her knees in front of Wonyoung as the toy wanders further and further south. It gets pressed up against the waistline of her panties, this flimsy little thing that could be torn to pieces in a light breeze. Then Yujin aims it right at her cunt, barely shielded by the barrier of those panties, and just holds it there—
Wonyoung trembles as a sharp jolt runs through her body, letting out the neediest whimpers of desperation when all that pressure is focused in just the right spot. Yujin eases the pleasure in, rubbing the toy around in tight little circles through those lace panties, getting Wonyoung all worked up, getting her to writhe against the window as she applies more pressure.
“Yujin, p-please, stop teasing. W-want that, want that inside me—f-fuck, I’ll be good! I’ll be your good girl, I promise!”
“But your promises don’t mean anything, princess,” Yujin says as Wonyoung struggles to find any friction through the thin material of her underwear, because she knows those words are empty, that she’s just saying what wants to be heard. One glimpse between her legs, and you can see how soaked those panties are, and it only gets worse when Yujin slides the intensity up.
Wonyoung lets a helpless gasp out, even as the toy refuses to linger in one spot, and instinctively pulls against the restraints on her wrists, desperate for any type of relief. Her whines get louder with every higher setting Yujin uses, until she’s borderline sobbing, that lace doing a poor job containing how soaked with arousal she is.
“Yujin, please—“ There’s so much shameless desperation in those pleas, and she can’t even finish the thought, because she’s just ruining those pretty panties, getting the fabric wetter by the second. Never does Yujin let Wonyoung settle into a comfortable rhythm, changing around the pressure, the intensity, careful to not let her fall into too much bliss.
Then it’s switched off, removed from her cunt, and all but forgotten.
“Please, n-no—need it, need you to fuck me with it. Yujin, please, u-unnie—“
“Unnie?” Yujin asks with this cute giggle, because Wonyoung only uses that word when she’s mocking her, or when she needs something bad enough. Standing up without saying anything else, Yujin gently strokes Wonyoung’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear that’s escaped underneath the blindfold.
“Hang in there, princess. Daddy’s gonna have fun with you now.”
The toy gets put in your hand, and you can see the white tip glistening wet as Yujin takes a seat on the bed, tagging herself out as she crosses her legs and settles in. Yujin doesn’t provide any other instructions, just an implication of your freedom to use this however you like—so long as the end result is Wonyoung left a total wreck.
“Oh, and daddy—“ she pauses, sitting comfortably into the mattress behind you. “Make sure she doesn’t cum. She doesn’t get to until your cock goes inside her.”
You almost feel bad—because Wonyoung’s going from one end of the spectrum to the other, overstimulation to denial. But ultimately, you know she can handle it, and this toy that holds all the power is going to be the catalyst behind all this fun.
You take a gander at the vibrator in your hand, inspecting its size and shape, the length, how it looks rather innocent with its neutral color, but that all changes when you switch it back on. It hums back to life, buzzing against your palm, and even on the lowest setting it’s rather intense, which has you understanding how it’s already done some damage against Wonyoung.
Turning it up to the highest setting gets to be far too intimidating for your liking, so you drop it back down a few notches before heading back over to Wonyoung, who hasn’t moved a muscle, hasn’t said a single word.
Her lips part ever so slightly, and her breathing quickens when the sound of the humming gets closer. Then you fall into Yujin’s position, getting on your knees, and press it right against those ruined panties. Wonyoung moans so pathetically at the first touch of contact, but you don’t even hold the toy long enough to tease, because you’ve got different plans.
As you pull away, your fingers slip into the waistband of her soaked panties, lingering for a moment until you tug them down those long legs of hers, and they hit the ground, pooling around her ankles.
“Much better. Your pussy is so pretty, princess.”
It’s a shame you can’t see her full reaction blindfolded, but with full access to Wonyoung’s wet little cunt, you guide the toy up the length of her slit to get it all nice and slick. With the merest hint of stimulation her body jerks, and when it vibrates against her sensitive clit, she can hardly stand still, that lithe body struggling to withstand the pleasure.
“Fuck, daddy!“
Unlike Yujin, you’re compelled to give Wonyoung exactly what she wants, at least in that moment. This sweet symphony Wonyoung makes when you hold the toy in place against her clit, all types of pitiful moans and needy gasps that escalate the longer the vibrations stay in place.
It’s tempting to go the Yujin route; tease the girl relentlessly, make her beg until she’s in tears, but you don’t have the patience for that, and you’re enjoying giving this modicum of pleasure that’s keeping Wonyoung so needy, unable to do anything but revel in it.
Little by little, you start to ease the toy inside, and Wonyoung tenses up, worried you’re going to slide out at the last second (and you’re still tempted to). But when the walls of her pussy spread apart, she takes the vibrator so effortlessly, muffling her relief behind all these moans.
“Is this what you need? To get your pretty little cunt fucked like this?” you ask, and it doesn’t take long to plunge this wet piece of silicone through the lips of her bare pussy, gradually building up a pace that’s guided by the slick juices dripping from her entrance.
“Y-yes, yes, daddy. Wanna be full, wanna be fucked like this, but your cock feels better, so much better…“ Wonyoung trails off, just gasping, moaning for more, falling apart at the seams.
“Don’t get greedy,” Yujin adds in, but that’s not going to deter her one bit, because even as she’s helplessly restrained like this, Wonyoung tries to grind against the toy, trying to get it to go deeper than you’ve allowed. And you’re enjoying this far too much to admonish her, so you just watch it disappear further, those pink, puffy lips engulfing the bright white shaft with little effort.
Any chance of Wonyoung articulating anything coherent escapes when you get the vibrator all inside her, and you pull it out slowly, before shoving it back in, doing the bare minimum of repetition that gets her all riled up, gets her shaking against the glass pane.
You get a nice rhythm going when plunging this toy into Wonyoung’s needy pussy in all the ways that she needs, but you have to be careful, because if it slides in just the right way she’ll cum before you know it, and she’s not going to bother warning you beforehand. During this all, her arousal gets your fingers so wet that you nearly drop the toy, but you don’t let it out of your grasp and keep it moving, keep parting those folds, and it’s again, a real shame you can’t see the frustration in her eyes.
Wonyoung is just so unapologetic about the way she needs more, begging for release that she needs more than air, like she’ll let you use her in a crowded room full of people if you just give her an orgasm, just one. But you keep it at bay and don’t dare give in to the temptation to just fuck her pretty cunt with this toy until she’s spilling all over the floor.
“What’s the matter, princess? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Yujin mocks, with this evil little laugh that gets drowned out by Wonyoung’s persistent whines while you’re making her ride that edge, keeping what she’s after just out of reach, with so many chances to reach the finish line only for it all to dissipate.
“Y-yes please, p-please, daddy, so close, I’m so fucking close—“
Wonyoung strains to do just about anything but moan at the toy shoved between her legs, imploring you to let her cum with every denial, and you realize why Yujin likes this, because taking control of her climaxes is orgasmic in itself.
One more close call brings one more set of whines, and you keep the toy buried deep within Wonyoung, allowing the vibrations to draw her desperately near, so near that she’s mindlessly tugging against the restraints, right on the brink of this seemingly unattainable goal.
“You think she’s ready to cum on your cock, daddy?”
You switch off the vibrator before uttering another word, and remove it from her pussy as Wonyoung nearly collapses from the loss of contact. When you hand it back to Yujin, it’s fucking drenched, dripping juices from every inch, this collection of all the evidence from how needy the poor girl is.
“I suppose so.”
Before Yujin takes off the blindfold, she makes Wonyoung suck the vibrator clean, tasting her own juices as if giving gratitude for all the pleasure she’s been granted.
“How do you taste, Wonyoungie?” Yujin asks as she removes the blindfold off her eyes, giving back the gift of vision and revealing tears that have formed behind the silk fabric. Next, the handcuffs get taken off, and her bra gets tossed to expose her body in its full splendor once more. Wonyoung has to be kept upright for a moment, legs barely able to hold all that weight after being pushed to the limit from so much stimulation.
“G-good. I taste good,” Wonyoung murmurs, still riding that edge of orgasm she hasn’t yet reached as she strives to cope with the overwhelming emptiness while she gets her senses back. During this little interlude, you survey the bedroom, taking note of the ruined panties that sit by Wonyoung’s feet, and this large armchair by the window that looks as good as any place to keep this going.
Once you settle into the chair, you join Yujin in staring Wonyoung down, the two of you watching this goddess of a girl breathe for a bit, hands folded in front. She’s silent, and antsy waiting for any type of command, wearing nothing else but that sexy set of stockings that‘s not going to come off.
“Come hop on this dick, princess. It's all yours."
Yujin gestures for her to join you, and the way Wonyoung approaches is almost cautious, like she’s going to have to go through another challenge before getting your dick in her cunt. But any apprehension gets cast aside when your legs spread in anticipation, and Wonyoung joins you on the plush seat, eyes full of need as she straddles you. Her stockings caress your thighs, but it’s nothing in comparison to the velvety softness of Wonyoung's skin beneath your fingertips as you trace the small of her back, and she shivers with every touch.
“Daddy…” Wonyoung starts, with a doe-eyed stare on her face as she wraps her fingers around your cock, and it’s just so hard in her hand as she gives these exploratory little pumps. With a pretense of modesty, she guides you between her legs, and struggles not to gasp at the sensation of your head pressing against her folds. “Didn’t you say this was going up my ass the next time you fucked me?”
You can’t hold back your laughter at that. “You remembered? Yeah, I did, but I’m gonna need to fill that pretty pussy first.”
A subtle nod later, and her full cheeks glow a pretty shade of red. Wonyoung stays quiet as she hovers right above your cock, nearly breathless before a single inch enters her. It’s her that’s doing the teasing now, rubbing your tip between her wet slit with this quiet little sigh that fades when she gets dangerously close to slipping you inside her.
“Hurry up and take that dick, princess,” Yujin says from her position on the bed, leaning back with her legs obscenely spread, with every intention to get off to Wonyoung riding you.
Unintentionally so, Wonyoung teases herself more than you, and she can’t fight this aching need to have you buried inside her—so she holds onto your shoulders, parting her soaking wet walls with your length. Her mouth falls open in a gasp, and despite only taking an inch or two, there’s this overwhelming tightness that makes you groan, makes your eyes seal shut to take it in.
Acting on impulse, Wonyoung sinks down more of your length before she needs to catch her breath, descending down your thick girth, little by little, just letting that tight warm hole stretch out wider and wider.
“Fuck,” she moans, throwing her head back, and even with how wet she is, how desperate she is to be filled to the hilt, it’s not the easiest thing to fit all of you in her. But that’s not going to stop her from trying, this stubborn girl sliding off your cock until there’s almost nothing left, then impaling herself down your base, nearly hilted in one go.
You have to ignore the temptation to grab those cheeks and slam every inch in. It’s not that she can’t take it, but she deserves to do this on her own, to savor the way she’s being spread open. After a few more tries, she gets a bit more daring, gets more adventurous with those hips, and starts to sink deeper with this sudden ferocity, groaning out of sheer relief when her greedy little cunt gets so close to taking everything she needs.
“Princess—“ There’s no patience left in your voice as she adjusts to your size. “Show me how much you want daddy’s cock.”
The anticipation lingers as Wonyoung holds her hips in the air, almost entirely unsheathed—and then slams back down, taking all your length into that intoxicating heat as you fill her up like nothing else can, until there’s no space left to fill.
���Oh my god, daddy—your fucking cock feels so good, so fucking big in my little pussy, I can barely take it all…”
Her hips aren’t even moving at all, and she’s just staying there seated on your cock, trying to accommodate all this thickness into her warm little hole. Whatever time she needs you’ll give, because you know when she starts bouncing on your shaft and gets those hips going, it’s going to feel like heaven, and there’s not going to be any stop to it.
“Take your time, princess. Just fuck yourself on me whenever you’re ready. You’ve been good for us, so you can cum as many times as you need—make a mess on daddy’s cock.”
It starts out with a subtle bounce of her hips, testing it all out, how Wonyoung can already feel you in her guts. Then she does it again, there’s minimal hesitation, getting all acclimated with the stretch that makes her clench around you, leaving this trail of slickness on your shaft that makes it even easier for her to slide back in.
While this goes on, you’re nestled comfortably into the armchair, letting Wonyoung set the pace, dictate exactly how much she wants to take inside that perfect cunt. It’s addictive, the way she stretches out and clenches around you, those pretty lips staying apart to get more erotic moans out as she lets more of your cock enter her at once.
“D-daddy, fuck,” Wonyoung whimpers when bringing her hips back down, almost bottoming out in succession as she finds this perfect rhythm to settle into, fucking herself on you without a care. “Your cock—“
She can’t quite get the right words out, but when she’s riding you like this, her hips do all the talking needed when she drops them, grinding with vigor, eager to extract the most pleasure from your cock that’s spreading her so wide.
“Feels better than a toy, doesn’t it?” you ask, and Wonyoung starts to put more urgency in her movements, taking these big bounces on your cock that has her moaning without restraint.
“It does,” Wonyoung says with a frantic nod, beads of sweat starting to form across that pretty face of hers as her hands find a resting place on the nape of your neck. “Not even the best toy can fill me with cum like daddy can.”
While her tight walls start to engulf more of you, there’s an immediate shift from this sweet, bashful girl, so eager to be fucked until she can’t think straight, to this brazen, cock hungry slut that’s obsessed with your dick, can’t think of anything else but when she’s going to cum.
Wonyoung just throws herself on you, riding your dick that feels so, so good inside her, swallowing up every inch with no intentions of letting anything escape. If she didn’t have some semblance of control, for sure, you’d be folding this girl in half, fucking her against a wall, or just plowing her into the sheets with your weight collapsed on top, making her absolutely scream.
Yet, for now, you’re enjoying this leisurely pace, that lets you savor Wonyoung’s tightness whenever she bottoms out, dripping out boundless amounts of arousal down your base. The best part is seeing the pleasure all over her face, these lewd expressions of hers that form when she hits the right angle, when your shaft keeps parting her slick folds and hits all those little sensitive nerves.
It’s a striking contrast between the two: Yujin gets so dominating from the get-go, taking what she wants, riding your cock with all this reckless abandon and complete disregard for anything but her own pleasure (usually with a hand around your throat). Then there’s Wonyoung at the opposite end of the spectrum, who’ll pretend to be dominant, but secretly just wants someone to have their way with her, mark all that porcelain skin up, and while it would pain her to admit it—she loves being absolutely ruined. l
Either option works for you, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t more drawn to Yujin’s more dominant nature. That doesn’t mean you aren’t enjoying Wonyoung falling apart, bit by bit, the way her pussy gets so impossibly wet, makes it so effortlessly to fuck herself on your dick.
And when Wonyoung gets more careless in her bounces, you get a firm hold on her slender waist, and dig your fingers into all that creamy flesh. Between all those pleased moans, there’s a familiar buzzing sound that remains out of sight that you can narrow down to a few feet in front of you—right between Yujin’s spread legs.
Somehow, despite the overwhelming sensations brought on by this warm, velvety cunt wrapped around your cock, you find enough willpower to tear your gaze over to where Yujin sits. She’s sprawled out on the edge of the mattress, teasing her clit with the vibrator that just wrecked Wonyoung, as if she’s trying to resist the urge to shove it all inside.
You lose eye contact with Yujin, as she’s only stolen your attention for a moment, and Wonyoung deserves it all with how well she’s riding you, putting all this energy into keeping herself nice and stretched out.
Yujin can’t take it much longer, this perfect view of her best friend getting split open by your cock, and teasing the arousal out of her pussy won't be enough. So she has to slip it inside, and a moan tumbles out when she shoves the toy all in. It’s this rare occasion where Yujin flips the script, becoming the voyeur, the one getting off to Wonyoung creaming on your dick.
What’s even better is how you can just sit back, enjoy this all, and appreciate every aspect of Wonyoung's body—how that warm cunt somehow gets tighter and tighter, thighs crashing against your own, those perky little tits putting in their best effort to bounce.
And now, she’s got the encouragement of Yujin in the background, the vibrator inside mimicking the intensity of Wonyoung's wild ride on your cock. They’re both in this trancelike state, with Wonyoung’s insatiable need to get you balls deep with every bounce that has your cock kissing her womb each time she buries you down to the hilt.
Her eagerness is what really gets you going, ignites all the twitches in your cock beyond control. You just have to explore that figure, groping whatever part of her you can get your hands on; fingers getting lost between the soft fabric of her stockings, down to the soles of her feet, massaging them enough to make her squirm, adding to the already constant moans that escape.
With both hands, you give a gentle slap to both round buttcheeks, then dip a fingertip into the arousal that drips down your length, coating it in the messy slickness that there’s no end to. The same finger grazes Wonyoung’s asshole, and you can tell by how much resistance there is even with your light teasing that nothing has ever been up there—something you’ll soon rectify.
“Daddy—“ Wonyoung gasps, and you can hardly slide a knuckle past that tight puckered hole, these light plunges giving the smallest taste of what her ass is going to take later.
“This is where I’m gonna fuck you next. Do you think you can handle it, princess?”
“Dunno. I don’t think you’ll fit…”
It does feel impossible to get into a hole like this, but you’ll do your damnedest to try—and you can only imagine how Wonyoung is going to look when you manage to fit your whole shaft in there.
“I’ll be gentle. Promise.”
She doesn’t doubt you for a second, because while her hips are bouncing up and down your shaft at an uncontrollable pace, you keep your finger teasing her snug asshole, easing her into the idea, letting her get used to being penetrated back there.
While it might be one little finger, Wonyoung can hardly take even that much, and the mere thought of anything thicker filling her ass up makes her cunt clench up in anticipation. That radiating smile soon takes over her features, replacing any leftover nervousness, because she knows you’ll guide her through it, and Yujin will be there right by her side.
“I need to hurry and make you cum then, daddy. I can’t wait to feel your thick cock in my ass.”
You give her another spank with the free hand that isn’t fingering her asshole, and it makes Wonyoung lean her head back, letting out this sinful gasp. She’s so utterly full when your finger tries to slip deeper inside her, that warm little cunt and the finger in her ass bringing all types of sensations she’s never felt before.
"You're gonna take it like the good girl you are," Yujin says with a breathy sigh, making the loudest moans that almost overpower the vibrator fucking her needy hole, and it’s impossible for you to not steal a glance. "Aren't you, princess?"
Yujin doesn't even need an answer to that, as she's just got that dazed look in her eyes while she fucks herself on this toy, trying to match the frantic pace that Wonyoung rides you in. It's mesmerizing, this chorus of moans that spills out, and Wonyoung just keeps tightening around your cock while your fingers keep playing with that puckered hole of hers, testing to see if you can even get an entire finger in (you can’t, and god, it’s going to be such a challenge getting even an inch of your cock in there).
"Fuck, just keep that up, keep riding that cock, princess,” Yujin groans, lost in all this combined pleasure that threatens to stain the carpet with the most powerful vibration the toy can offer. “Make yourself cum—then let daddy fill you up, pump all that thick cum in your pretty little pussy."
And while it feels like that finger might never fit in Wonyoung's ass, you ease out of it, get her to suck on it, to get that tight hole nice and wet as she coats it in her warm saliva. Sliding that finger back in gets easier, but this tight ring of muscle still shows so much more opposition as you try to work into this unexplored part of Wonyoung.
But she’s intent on relaxing through it, gasping when you finger her little asshole, and can’t think of anything else but being full of your hot load.
"Daddy, god, it feels so good," Wonyoung whimpers out, and all this stimulation is a lot to take, this foreign feeling of a finger in her ass combined by your cock splitting her open. Then, there’s Yujin, moaning up a storm, with her greedy cunt absolutely dripping down onto the carpet as she tries to match Wonyoung's pace, fucking herself with such urgency, and she can't seem to shut herself up.
“Make daddy cum, make him cum you little fucking slut, drain those heavy fucking balls like a good girl.“ It’s just the most absolute filth escaping Yujin’s lips, and it’s making you both absolutely lose it, wanting to blow this fucking load into Wonyoung more than ever that you might take matters into your own hands.
“Fuck—gonna cum on daddy’s big fucking cock, gonna make him breed me until that cum drips out of me. That’s what you want, right? I want you to breed me so fucking bad, just want your cum to fill this slutty little pussy up—“
All those words hold more power in them than Wonyoung knows, and it gets you sharing the responsibility, using your hips to impale your cock inside that needy cunt. You’re more than ready to unload inside her, to empty all this cum that makes her tight hole overflow, that’s going to spill wherever there isn’t room for.
When you up the aggression in this sudden shift, her petite little body just falls forward against your chest, and you knead those cheeks, spreading them apart to help your cock demolish that pussy. She’s so unbelievably tight as you’re pounding into her, slamming every throbbing inch into that heat that’s ready to take your load into her womb, because this is what she’s been dying for: to be fucked this hard, this rough.
“Daddy!”
Wonyoung clings to your body, and all she can do is hold on tight, burying her head into the crook of your neck as she gives herself wholly to lust while your cock keeps hammering into her sweet cunt. She’s so close to climax that she can taste it, and you’re not going to let up until she gets that and then some.
“Fuck, daddy, fuck, fuck!” Wonyoung cries out, her words muffled against your neck, and you keep bouncing her on your cock, sheathing your shaft into that heavenly warmth that gets tighter and tighter the closer she gets.
“Cum on his fucking cock, princess," Yujin demands, like it’s the one final thing she needs to finish herself off. “Show daddy how much you deserve that load filling up your cunt.”
You’re drilling Wonyoung like she’s begging you to, slamming her down to your base as you keep this rhythm up and take absolute control to impale every inch that’ll fit into her. The armchair meets the same fate as most furniture in the place does, getting all wet and sticky, covered in Wonyoung’s arousal as she tightens around you to an unimaginable extent. Powerless to fight back the inevitable, Wonyoung’s mouth hangs open so all the whimpers and moans get lost right in your ear as that desperate relief she’s been fighting for is within her grasp.
Her orgasm runs through her petite little frame, and then there’s all this wetness spreading everywhere that has Wonyoung shaking uncontrollably, being fucked to pieces and so overcome with relief that she’s cumming on your cock again within seconds, greedily taking as many orgasms as you’ll give her.
And when you're deep in this moment with Wonyoung, her whole body spasming as you pound her tight walls that only clench tighter, you barely notice the absence of that comforting buzz. This sudden rush of heat comes from out of nowhere, a warm tongue flicking against your balls, wrapping those full lips around them before dipping down to lick your asshole in such frantic, greedy swipes.
“Don’t mind me, daddy. Just keep going. Keep fucking this little slut until you’ve pumped her full of cum. I’m just here to help out.” If only you could see the look on Yujin’s face right now, because now that she’s left her position on the bed, you know there’s a massive wet spot that’s taken her place, all the signs of her greedy orgasms.
You didn’t exactly need the assistance, but you’re not going to complain.
The additional stimulation hits when you need it the most, because Yujin’s wet tongue against your asshole feels divine, and she gives these ravenous, wet licks that have you throbbing so violently inside Wonyoung. It doesn’t take your focus away, even as she buries her tongue right in your asshole, her sloppy licks giving one more push that’s going to have Wonyoung’s warm, wet pussy milk your heavy load right out of you any second.
This pressure keeps building and building, threatening to burst any second. All you need is one more moment to savor it before it all comes crashing down on you, Yujin going at your tight hole and Wonyoung making these blissful, drawn out moans, because she can’t stop cumming on your cock, can’t stop begging to be filled up.
Between some combination of the two, that hot little tongue and that wet pussy clinging to your cock, they both get you to explode so forcefully, flooding Wonyoung up with so much cum, more than you could ever imagine as you paint her insides a pearly white. There’s no end to it, all of this hot, sticky seed Wonyoung milks out, squeezing your shaft with those slippery walls as her sweaty body convulses against you as yet another orgasm rips through.
More of this viscous load fills Wonyoung to the brim, so much that it can’t all be contained, and leaks down to your balls. But Yujin’s right there to claim it, to make sure not a drop gets wasted. All these spurts, these hot streaks of cum that exit your balls fill Wonyoung up so well, that pretty pussy taking your load like it belongs in there.
Yujin’s hot tongue stays pressed to your balls, helping you extend that intense orgasm, stimulating whatever parts she can reach with such eagerness. Wonyoung’s in her own little world, grinding her pussy, trying to wring out all the cum from your balls, these girls are always working in tandem as Yujin helps lap up whatever escapes from that creamy cunt.
Those little licks on your balls get more sporadic to help ride out your high, and there’s already so much of your cum coating Wonyoung’s walls, leaking down your shaft. Yujin takes one more lick before rising, and she’s waiting for the rest of that thick load to spill out as Wonyoung lifts herself off your cock. That hot gushing cum flows from her pussy, all the way down to her stocking-clad thighs and onto the carpet below you, such a beautiful goddamn mess.
“Fuck, there's so much of it," Wonyoung says, out of breath, yet feeling so pumped full of cum that leaks out, and Yujin’s not even bothering to gather it up anymore, just amused by the spectacle of how much cum can fill that little pussy.
You keep your hands on Wonyoung, fingers spreading those cheeks so your load leaks out onto the floor, soaking her dark stockings that now have this distinct contrast against the creamy cum that coats them. When there's less of you seeping out of her, you lift her body off this ruined chair (another thing to add to the cleaning agenda), and hoist her in the air, kissing those tired lips while she wraps those arms around your neck.
“That’s my princess,” you say, licking the sweat off her neck as you traverse through all this wetness that’s spilled onto the sheets and carpet, laying Wonyoung down gently in a spot on the mattress that seems mostly free of Yujin’s messy fluids. Wonyoung lies back and takes a second to catch her breath, and you can’t help staring at her glistening body, as she gets that fluster on her cheeks again.
There’s no denying your interest to fuck another load into Wonyoung when she’s all spread out like this, get her in that mating press that she loves dearly and breed her again. If you didn’t need a moment to recover you’d do just that, but your reserves only have so much left, and there’s still one part of Wonyoung that hasn’t gotten your cock inside it—that waiting little asshole.
Yujin can barely contain her excitement when she lays down on the soft, cushy bed, resting her head on a pillow as her hand lazily strokes Wonyoung's body. Not even showing the least bit of exhaustion, she manages to lean in for a kiss, sharing her lips with Wonyoung who’s still getting her breath back under control.
"Do you think you can handle a cock inside your tight asshole, princess?" Yujin asks, getting straight to the point. “You’ll like it, I promise.” Those words don't come as much reassurance to Wonyoung as her eyes narrow in this adorable little worry when you caress her legs, a mess of fluids still clinging to her thighs.
“I’ll go nice and slow. Just let me know if something feels uncomfortable. You trust us, right?”
Without even a moment to think it over, Wonyoung nods, spreading those legs apart as best she can while you fish a bottle of lube out of the nightstand drawer. There’s still fresh cum leaking from her ravished pussy, and it keeps the arousal in you ignited as you snap open the bottle, slicking up a finger to spread the clear liquid against her little, mostly untouched asshole. It makes her gasp, the unfamiliar sensation as you slide this finger in and out of her puckered hole to properly prep her, quickly settling into what’s familiar, especially with Yujin showering her with kisses to ease the tension.
“Relax, Wonyoungie,” Yujin tells her, and you can’t tell if she’s impatient, nervous, or somewhere in between, but you’re pretty sure this has been on her mind the whole time since she’s asked about it. Wonyoung tries to stay relatively calm, but the finger you have in her unyielding hole can barely move, undeniable the resistance it brings.
“Princess, are you—“
“I’m ready,” Wonyoung cuts off, with eagerness written on her face, voice full of nothing but confidence. You have to make sure, because while Wonyoung is enjoying the finger slowly opening her ass up, having your cock up there is a whole different ball game.
“You sure?”
“Yes, daddy. Your cock. I want it in my asshole.”
That confidence remains strong, enough to convince you when your finger slips out of Wonyoung, and for good measure you add one more pump of lube to that hole, rubbing the leftover across your length.
"It’s going to feel so good. Just remember—relax,” Yujin says, with a reassuring look. Wonyoung needs it, and there’s a scrap of nervousness left, because while she’s good and ready for this, it’s still her first time, and her confidence only goes so far.
The heightened anticipation lingers in the air when you’re coating your cock for the second time tonight, but it has you painfully hard again at the prospect of just how good that little asshole is going to feel. Wonyoung has her eyes locked on the way you’re stroking your shaft, because she knows exactly where it’s going to go—but how it’s going to fit, neither of you can guess.
You take a moment to look into Wonyoung’s eyes for any trepidation, any last second hesitation when you line up your cock with her asshole. The look she gives back reflects your excitement, and she’s happy for you to claim her first time doing this.
A long, deep breath, and then you press your cockhead against Wonyoung’s puckered hole, easing into something so unfathomably tight. There’s little give, to no surprise, but it doesn’t feel impossible for you to go in her. It’s just going to take some extra work, you think, as you make painstakingly tiny, minuscule movements."
“Fuck…“ she breathes out, already overwhelmed by this newfound feeling of your cock in a place that’s never had anything there before. But there’s no discomfort, nothing but eyes that signal to keep this up, not more than a breathless look on Wonyoung’s face.
“Doing okay, princess?”
Wonyoung can’t quite tell if she likes this yet, but it seems so utterly preposterous that you’ll fit more of you inside this little hole.
“Yeah, I’m—it’s just so big,” she says, clenching the sheets in big fists, as Yujin caresses her body with gentle, relaxing strokes to try and get her to do just that—relax. “Don’t let me slow you down. I can take it, keep going.”
There’s not any reason to doubt her, so you take her word for it, and sink in a little deeper, that impossibly snug asshole relaxing enough to allow the tip of your cock inside. Calling this a tight fit would be an understatement, and the lack of movement you have right now is just absurd. Once you manage to get your cockhead past that rim, it starts to kick in what a struggle this is going to be.
“God, princess—your asshole is too fucking tight,” you groan, just weighed down by how limited you can thrust inside this hole, desperately attempting to slide in another inch. Not much else can be said but the obvious at this point, and as much as you’re dying to just ram into her, you’ve got to keep this patience up, because sooner or later that resistance is going to dissipate.
“Breathe,” Yujin reminds her, and it makes Wonyoung’s muscles relax enough for you to get through this impasse, to slide in past the head and then some, a monumental effort in itself. The tightness that engulfs your cock is secondary, because you’re watching Wonyoung react to it all, hoping to keep up the pleasure on her face the deeper you get.
And when you can see these little moans forming as she gets more used to this, gets used to being more stretched out, you persist, gradually sliding more of your shaft in her ass. Soon, you’ve got almost half your length in her as you’re fighting all this burgeoning pressure that prevents you from getting too greedy, a constant reminder that this isn’t Yujin who can take a jackhammering in her ass like it’s nothing.
But it’s not half bad taking this slow path, letting her asshole swallow up more of your cock whenever you withdraw. It’s just going to make the wait worth it when you can fuck her back entrance without struggle.
“Look at you, princess. Taking daddy’s cock up your ass like such a good girl,” Yujin says, planting little kisses on her other half’s collarbone, constantly finding a distraction for her. “You look like you like it.”
Wonyoung’s too embarrassed to admit, that yes, she loves this new feeling of something big filling her ass, making her feel all types of full. It’s still hard to believe how much of you can fit in this tight little asshole, but she’s relaxing, taking deep enough breaths that allow more of your cock, and before long you’ll be able to begin making shallow, tentative thrusts.
“This, this feels really good,” Wonyoung moans, as she’s been opened up enough that you can finally move your hips and fuck her asshole in earnest, stretching it out more to take you all in. “Doesn’t it feel good, daddy?”
Nothing has ever felt better, and you can barely voice your pleasure when you’re plunging into her hot tightness that’s ready for more. You grab her narrow waist and start your ascent the same way, nice and slow, careful not to go too fast or deep before pulling back out.
“Yeah, princess. You feel fucking amazing.”
Wonyoung has this intense tightness that you’ve never felt before, her hot little asshole accepting your cock into new depths a little easier each time. You’re nowhere near balls deep, but it’s enough to make her moan the more you work yourself in, becoming more full after each thrust.
“Daddy, fuck me, fuck me and get me all stretched out,” Wonyoung says, and you’re not going to disappoint, not when she’s so ready to take more than shallow pumps. So you fuck her with full, deep strokes that fits all of you in her asshole, this incredible tightness making you throb when you bottom out.
“I knew you would like it,” Yujin says, and she’s leaning over to lazily play with one of Wonyoung’s breasts, giving this half-squeeze while you’re showing her asshole less restraint. Wonyoung hates this playful tone Yujin uses on her, even if she knows she’s right, that she was destined to enjoy this from the start. It makes her clench up even tighter, the chokehold she gets your cock in only encouraging your hips to move faster.
“Daddy—oh fuck daddy, your cock feels so good. H-harder, fuck my tight asshole harder, oh god—please!” Wonyoung stammers between all these little gasps and moans, and she’s taking your cock up her ass like a natural, opening up so much that it barely resembles her first time.
Then your grip on her tiny waist gets tighter, like you don’t care if you’ll leave bruises behind, because all you can think about is how good it feels to slide your cock into this asshole unabated after all this effort you’ve put in. You’re in deeper with every stroke, stretching this impossibly tight hole that deserves it, and Wonyoung takes it with nothing but bliss in her eyes, nothing but these endless moans.
“She’s taking you so well,” Yujin says, still mindlessly teasing one of Wonyoung’s nipples, the distraction less and less necessary the more thrusts that get in her. “Who knew our princess liked it up the ass so much? Our little anal slut must be making your cock feel so good.”
“Yeah, just like you,” you say, and Yujin’s not even one bit offended, considering it feels like she likes getting her ass wrecked more than you do on some days.
“Just like me.”
It’s a title Yujin has earned, since she’s taken your cock in her ass in so many locations in and around campus, not to mention countless bathrooms, parks, and her favorite, the racquetball court at the student recreation center after class.
But at this rate Wonyoung might rival her soon, given that her asshole is taking your cock like a pro, because this girl has to prove how good she is at everything, even something that’s her first time. The superior tightness of her ass competes with Yujin, and even surpasses that pretty cunt that you just dumped a load in. She looks so blissed out, fully adjusted to how much her asshole is being stretched.
With every deep impale Wonyoung craves more, begging to get fucked just like Yujin does, and maybe you’ll let her get to that point. But for now, you’re not about to rush it, not when it feels so good to have your cock suffocated by all this immense pressure, and this view you get of Wonyoung beneath you, all spread out, clinging onto the sheets.
Even Yujin herself gets her own pleasure out of it, as her fingers sneak away from Wonyoung and work over her clit, playing with herself as your cock slams inside this tight ass over and over, harder and deeper every time.
"It's so fucking big," Wonyoung says, and her eyes are shut in concentration, so utterly lost in the feeling of your huge cock in her ass. “I can feel daddy so deep. It’s all the way in, daddy’s all the way in my little asshole.”
Wonyoung says it in this way like she can’t believe it, can’t believe she’s been stretched this much to take it all. The satisfaction of bottoming her out, it’s so pleasurable that you can’t help but prolong your movements while you let your cock rest, whenever you’re buried balls fucking deep in her ass before you move back out to do it all again.
"I think daddy likes your little asshole," Yujin says, looking pleased as ever at her remark. "Don't you, daddy?"
“Fuck yes,” you reply, and it's nearly impossible to pay attention to what she’s asking when you’re slamming into Wonyoung without pause. “This tight fucking asshole is perfect.”
You’re finally at the point where you can just ram your cock into her ass, taking these long, greedy strokes to the hilt that leave Wonyoung whimpering and moaning for more. It’s quite contrary to the start, where you could barely fit the tip of your cock in her, before she even knew how much she liked having your cock up her asshole.
And it's all so good to Yujin, who treats herself to two more orgasms before you fill Wonyoung up again. She's gone from barely hanging in there to in utter pleasure dominating her body. In the moment, her legs look so enticing, and you think there's a better position for them as you lift them up to rest on your shoulders, knees up to her chest, while you fold the girl like a piece of furniture.
“Oh fuck, daddy!” Wonyoung cries out, and the new angle lets you get in even deeper, plunging your cock so far inside her incredible warm asshole. You can’t even comprehend how tight she still feels; even at this stage, how your cock just gets choked by this surreal tightness that never falters, never lets up or relinquishes your throbbing shaft.
You’re not even bothering to watch Yujin fuck herself into her next orgasm, with your focus all on plowing Wonyoung, this tight little ring that’s swallowing you up to the base of your shaft without trouble, demanding to be gaped to its limits.
Then you’re falling into familiarity, kissing those pretty feet through her stockings while they hang over your shoulders, because it’s you who needs the distraction as you’re bound for another orgasm that’s approaching sooner than you’d like. Maybe you could hold out longer, take a break to eat Yujin out so she doesn’t have to make herself cum, but that would require pulling out of this delicious ass—and that’s not going to happen.
So, without any consideration for anything but your own selfish pleasure, you pound that asshole as best you can in this position, keeping your lips on the soft arches of her feet to keep the distraction going, and it’s just sinful how deep you’re fucking her. You won’t last, not with her insides trying to squeeze a thick load out of your balls, but you're going to keep this rhythm up, and you’re going keep that asshole stuffed with cock until the end.
In the meantime, Yujin’s had enough of fingering herself to orgasm for the time being, and she turns over on her side, to get the best view she can get.
“Are you going to cum in her?” she asks, just following your cock, watching how every inch disappears inside Wonyoung’s ass, and it takes a surplus of restraint to even answer without blowing your load early.
“Haven’t thought about it yet.”
It’s the truth, and since you've already pumped a load down her throat and another in her pussy, you could go for the hat trick. An enticing prospect, no doubt, and yet, the way that Yujin’s dragging her finger alongside Wonyoung’s flat stomach gives you second thoughts.
“Such a nice little body…" Yujin says, and she’s doing a lot more than just caressing this smooth porcelain skin, dropping a not so subtle hint where she’d like to direct your load. And you can already imagine it all, this sticky pool of white spilling over that flawless stomach, those cute tits, maybe even up to her neck, just glazing her body in copious amounts of you.
The mental image is enough to bring you closer, a constant struggle to contain it all the more you plunge your cock into Wonyoung’s ungodly tight asshole. You’re all sorts of ready to blow now, and Yujin might get her wish, but for that to happen, you'd have to pull out—an absurd demand to ask of yourself. Yet the visualization gets you so worked up, and you have no plans of letting this thought remain confined to your mind, pausing to Wonyoung’s legs perched on your shoulders.
Yujin places a firm hand on her stomach, and grazes her fingers along every bit of those toned abs as you let your impulses take over, pistoning your hips for just a while longer, until the last possible moment—
Then somehow, someway, you pull your cock out from Wonyoung’s asshole, where you look down to marvel at the gape left behind. And before you can even bring yourself to climax, Yujin snatches your shaft with a grip almost as tight and relentless as that puckered hole you’ve left all stretched out.
With a burning desire to finish you off herself, Yujin pumps your swollen head in her fist with strokes so frantic that it takes under a handful of seconds to empty your balls across this beautiful canvas. Thick white strands splatter in these violent throbs all over Wonyoung’s tight creamy stomach, shooting all the way up to her perky breasts as you glaze her decadent body in your warm sticky seed.
You’ve lost count of what number load this is, but it’s not any weaker than all the ones preceding it, Yujin milking it all out to decorate Wonyoung, looking up in between pumps with a small, self-satisfied smirk as your cock just erupts and erupts.
“Fuck, it’s so, so warm, it feels so good when you cum all over me, daddy,” Wonyoung says, in between tired heavy breaths that has her small chest heaving, her little mouth wide open. Yujin can’t help but indulge in this treat you’ve created, tongue dragging up against those abs to collect a creamy streak, leaving the rest of it to glisten over her roommate’s sweaty body.
All you can do is revel in the experience and admire Wonyoung's cum-splattered body, in awe how your load has painted her, basking in the aftermath of this intense, messy orgasm.
As you collapse onto one side of Wonyoung, Yujin takes her place on the other, and you’re all spent, out of breath, with this intense high still tearing through your body. And then there’s a silence that’s only interrupted by heavy breaths, as Yujin trails her fingers against Wonyoung’s sticky cum-covered stomach, pressing little kisses into her flushed skin.
“Is our princess doing okay?” Yujin asks a sudden question that elicits no reaction whatsoever from Wonyoung. She seems pretty knocked out at this point, but despite that, her eyes stay open and fixated on Yujin.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. What, did you think I couldn’t handle that?” she replies, the remnants of that arrogance coming all back out.
Yujin chuckles, amused by the nonchalant nature of that response. "Don't act like it was nothing, I saw how much you enjoyed it, the way you were moaning like a—"
“Hey! It’s only because daddy fucked my ass better than he does yours…”
“Is that so?” Yujin asks, taking the bait without even realizing. It’s funny how fast Wonyoung can fall back into that bratty persona, that demeanor returned like it never left even after she’s had her ass reamed. There’s not enough energy between the two to keep this competition going, which works just fine because you’re on the verge of passing out.
You definitely don’t think you can move after this.
✦ ✦
It’s past noon when you wake up again. You assume it’s the next day, but it could be the next week from how long you’ve been out. And you don’t even remember where your clothes are. The last thing you remember is railing Wonyoung against the shower glass, and then Yujin jerking you off all over her angelic face, because again—nobody ever gets clean in there.
Your stomach rumbles when you roll over, but thankfully, it doesn’t wake up these two beauties on either side as they sleep soundly. The peace is nice and most welcome, even if you can still feel getting kneed in the ribs in the middle of the night.
You could go for some pancakes. Or maybe pizza, but you’ll settle for just about anything that’s loaded with carbs.
If only delivery could make it all the way up to the bedroom—but then again, maybe not, they’d be plenty ashamed by the state it’s in. You could cook some eggs, and god, hot coffee sounds amazing, but that requires somehow getting out of this mess of limbs you’ve ended up tangled up in again. And to be honest, you’re quite comfortable here, sandwiched between both beautiful, naked girls, surrounded in their warmth.
"What time is it?"
It takes a second to realize where that voice comes from, a conscious Wonyoung, voice all husky and fragile.
“Dunno. Like noon? Maybe later.”
“Shit. Class—I have class today.”
“You don’t have class on the weekends, dummy.”
That other voice belongs to Yujin, who still has some adorable sleepiness in her voice. “Daddy must have really fucked your brains out. Is there anything left in there, princess?”
Wonyoung’s too tired to retort anything clever, and you’re just rolling over to bury your face in the pillows.
“Hey, don’t go back to sleep,” Yujin says, poking your cheek to keep you in this realm.
“I want breakfast. Pancakes or something—waffles, that place by campus has waffles. With blueberry syrup,” Wonyoung chimes in, like it’s a matter of urgency.
“It’s already noon,” Yujin reminds her, in this teasing way that almost takes the wind out of her sails, the poor thing.
“It’s the first meal I’m eating. So that makes it breakfast.”
You could totally bury yourself under all these covers and sleep for another four hours. And maybe that’s what you’ll do.
“Hey. Daddy—waffles!” Wonyoung says with so much excitement, shaking your shoulders for extra effect, because lord knows you can sleep through just about anything.
“Then order them,” you say, muffled through your pillow, and you don’t want to leave this comfy bed under any circumstances. Not even for waffles.
In the end, they don’t mind ordering in, because nobody is able to force themselves out of the comfort of this big, soft bed except to answer the door. Then you’ve got a massive stack of chocolate chip pancakes on your lap, Wonyoung has waffles bigger than her head (complete with her precious blueberry syrup that she drowns them in), and Yujin gets French toast smothered in syrup and powdered sugar that keeps smearing over her lips.
Wonyoung spills a drop of blueberry syrup on one of her thighs, and when you think it’s going to jumpstart another round (and god, you’re already just so tired), she cleans it up herself. Breakfast is just breakfast, a pleasant moment to get all the sugar and carbs in your bodies to replenish your energy.
And there’s really nothing better than that.
--------
First off, a huge thanks to @braaan for editing this mess, and for being such a painless, wonderful beta reader. Second, if you've made it this far, thank you!
I didn't intend to make it this long, but you know how these things go. Hopefully there’s something for everything in what is probably the most self indulgent thing I’ve ever written. <3
#IVE smut#yujin smut#wonyoung smut#kpop smut#reader insert#male reader#kpop fanfic#yujin x reader#wonyoung x reader#annyeongz smut#kpop fanfiction#izone smut
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Hard Reset II
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
Warnings: 18+ / Smut
Description: This fic covers the week 2 loss to the Ravens plus the lead-up to week 3 and the win against the Rams.
Time/Place: Sunday, Sep. 17, 2023 - Monday, Sep. 25, 2023 / Cincinnati, Ohio
A/N: This is a follow-up to Hard Reset
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday, 9/17/23 (just after the week 2 loss to the Ravens)
You wave to Joe's parents as they drive off down the street, eventually walking toward the house as your mind rewinds to the game …
Joe had performed better but was still clearly hampered by the injury, his limp worse than ever after he tweaked the bad calf trying to evade pressure. He'd asked you and his parents not to meet him in the tunnel after the game if the Bengals lost, so y'all went straight home, his parents deciding to drop you off and drive back to Athens instead of spending the night like they planned.
Once you're in the house you text Joe to let him know his parents decided to head home; you take a quick shower and change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, fighting the urge to check social media to see what folks are saying about the game.
You eventually get a text back from Joe letting you know he's headed home; you pace back and forth until you hear the garage door open, your pulse picking up as he walks into the house, the jaunty curl gracing his forehead a stark contrast to his somber expression.
"Hey," you greet him, hurrying to give him a hug before looking up into his face. "Is it bad?" you ask.
"Well, it's not great," he snaps, wincing as soon as the words leave his mouth. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so rude."
"It's okay. I know you're frustrated," you soothe. "Do we need to do anything to it tonight? Massage? Elevation? Compression?"
He nods his head. "All of the above, although the massage isn't mandatory."
"Does it hurt?"
"It's pretty sore and tight, yeah," he admits. "How it responds in the next few days will decide if I'm playing next week or not."
You nod your head and bite your tongue. Surely he's not playing next week, right? you think to yourself, taking a deep breath as he studies your facial expression.
"What are you thinking?" he asks, a slight edge in his voice.
"I mean … you clearly tweaked it again. It seems to be getting worse not better. I just hope the medical team makes the right decision." He opens his mouth to retort but you quickly change the subject. "Are you hungry?"
He wrinkles his nose. "I'm hungry but nothing sounds good. Plus I need to go watch some film, and that will def make me lose my appetite." He walks a few steps toward the stairs before turning around and walking back; he leans down to drop a kiss on your lips, pulling back to search your face. "Don't worry," he orders, giving you a tiny smile before pressing another quick kiss on your lips.
You watch as he heads upstairs, taking them one at a time and clearly limping instead of bounding up them two at a time like he normally does. He makes eye contact with you just before he disappears, the defeated look on his face breaking your heart. Well shit, you think to yourself, feeling absolutely helpless to do anything to make him feel better.
You walk into the kitchen and spot your phone on the counter; you grab it and send a quick text to Joe's mom to let her know he got home okay. After that you head into the living room and plop down on the sofa, not really feeling like doing anything and not knowing when Joe will be done watching film -- could be thirty minutes, could be three hours. The only sure thing is he'll be in an even worse mood once he's done.
You heave a sigh and roll your shoulders, your eyes landing on a throw pillow as a thought hits you. "Oh yeah," you mutter, snatching the pillow off the sofa before heading for the stairs; you make a quick detour through the kitchen to grab a bottle of orange mango BodyArmor out of the fridge before making your way up to Joe's office.
He's changed into a t-shirt and shorts, a black compression sleeve visible on his right calf, ankle to knee. You quickly approach him and set the cold drink on a coaster on his desk before dragging an armchair over and dropping the pillow on it. "Elevate your leg," you urge, watching as he lifts his leg up and props it on the pillow. "Need anything else?" you ask. "I'm good, babe, thanks," he mutters, giving you a distracted smile before turning his attention back to the action on the screen.
You walk down the hallway to the master bedroom, crawling onto the bed as you decide to kill some time by scrolling your phone, strategically avoiding any and all football news.
You scroll for about forty minutes before remembering the chicken and dumplings in the fridge. You ease out of bed and creep down the hallway, wincing at the disgruntled grumbling noises coming from Joe's office. "Better call an audible," you whisper, heading downstairs to heat up the food instead of asking him if he's hungry.
You ladle a hearty portion into a saucepan and turn on the heat, smiling once it starts to simmer, the tendrils of fragrant steam wafting upward to work their magic. He has a nose like a bloodhound when it comes to food, and it's not long before you hear him ambling down the stairs
"What's that delicious smell?" he asks, sniffing the air as he walks into the kitchen.
"Your mom made you some chicken and dumplings."
"Really?"
"Yeah." You chuckle at the look on his face. "Brought 'em all the way from Athens in a cooler for her baby boy."
"That was nice," he mutters.
"Yes it was," you agree. "Have a seat," you continue, pointing at a barstool before you dish up his dinner; you set the bowl down in front of him, smiling when he grabs his spoon and tucks into it, making appreciative noises as he quickly demolishes the entire bowl.
"Pretty good, huh?" you ask.
"Delicious," he groans, rubbing his full belly. "You're not having any?" he asks.
"I ate earlier," you answer, not mentioning that your dinner was a few olives and a handful of cashews because your stomach was tied in knots from the game.
"I'm so fucking tired," he grumbles. "Too bad I need to watch more film tonight."
"Nope!" you blurt out, shaking your head. "Fuel and rest are the most important things for your recovery. You fueled up," you continue, shaking his empty bowl, "and now it's time to rest. You're gonna turn your phone off, brush your teeth then let me massage you until you're hopefully relaxed enough to fall asleep. You can watch more film tomorrow."
You turn to head to the sink before spinning back around. "One quick thing before you turn your phone off … send a text to your mom saying the chicken and dumplings were delicious and you'll call her tomorrow."
His mouth is hanging open at this point and he lets out a bemused chuckle. "Damn, woman, you're barkin' orders at me like a drill sergeant."
"Damn right," you grin before nodding at his phone. "Get to it, soldier."
Fifteen minutes later you finish brushing your teeth and walk into the bedroom, your eyes raking over Joe who is already laying face down on the bed wearing nothing but the black compression sleeve on his right calf.
"You want me to use the massage wand or just my hands?"
"Just your hands."
You slide your shorts off and straddle his waist, starting the massage at his neck and shoulders -- giving extra attention to his throwing shoulder -- before slowly working your way down his tall, muscular frame. It takes a lot of self-control not to lean down and sink your teeth into one of his perfectly plump cheeks, but you keep it moving, working both of his thighs and his good calf before concentrating on his strained calf, his little grunts and groans of pleasure going straight to your crotch.
"That's good, babe," he eventually mutters, rolling over onto his back, a sheepish smile gracing his lips when your eyes land on his impressive erection. "Just ignore that," he mumbles. "You're probably completely turned off by me since I've been playing so shitty," he continues, pulling the edge of the sheet over his crotch and a pillow over his face.
You grin to yourself knowing his sore ego needs massaging just as much as his sore body; you decide to lay it on thick while massaging his thighs "That's a load of bullshit and you know it," you scoff. "I was turned on the second I laid eyes on you at LSU -- before I knew you were a football player -- and that feeling only grew as I got to know you better." He makes a snorting noise that's muffled by the pillow as you continue. "That was back before you were Joe Shiesty or Joe Brrr, remember? Back when you were just an incoming transfer QB who'd been a benchwarmer at OSU for the previous three seasons."
He pulls the pillow off of his face and makes eye contact with you. "Keep talking," he mumbles.
"The fact you were on the football team was the least interesting thing about you as far as I was concerned, and I was attracted to you in spite of it not because of it."
""Cause you thought I was a fuck boy."
"I thought most college football players were fuck boys. Took me a minute to realize you were different."
"What made you realize I was different?"
Y'all have had this discussion before, but you lean into it because he clearly needs to hear it again. "You never pressured me for sex. Gave me plenty of time to get to know you first." You give him a naughty grin. "And then when we finally had sex you got me off with your fingers and tongue first, and then when you came in like five minutes you got me off again."
"You liked that, huh?"
"Loved it," you admit, continuing to work your way up his thighs.
"Thank God I lasted longer than five minutes for round two."
"You were amazing," you sigh, "and you're still mind-blowingly amazing, but being a generous lover is just the cherry on top. You're also kind, compassionate, gorgeous, intelligent, funny as hell." You scoot forward, smiling when he spreads his legs wider to accommodate you. "You can hold conversations on everything from SpongeBob to superluminal time travel," you continue, giving him a wink. "In other words you're the complete package. And win or lose, I'll always want you more than anything."
His breath catches in his throat when you slide the sheet to the side to uncover his erection, your eyes never leaving his as you lean down and slowly run your tongue base to tip, sucking the plump head just inside your mouth and swirling your tongue around it a few times while he groans his approval. You fully intend to give him some super sloppy, world-class head but he stops you just a few minutes in.
"That's so good, babe, but I need to be inside you," he moans. You hesitate for a second and he yanks the pillow back over his face, his voice muffled again. "I knew it. You're probably drier than the Sahara."
"It's not that," you soothe, trying not to laugh at his pity party theatrics. "I just don't wanna hurt your leg." You crawl up his body until you're straddling his hips before easing the pillow off of his face; you slip your t-shirt off and toss it on the floor, smiling when his gaze immediately drops to your bare breasts. You reach down and pull your panties to the side before nestling your slick folds against his erection, sliding up and down his hard length several times until he's coated in your juices. "Does this feel dry to you?"
"No," he mutters, dropping a hand down to push his tip just inside your wet heat; you take over from there, slowly impaling yourself on his thick shaft while he teases your sensitive nipples.
Once he's fully seated he gently rolls you onto your back. "Don't hurt your leg," you urge. "It's okay," he murmurs. "If I can play a football game I can make love to my wife."
"We're not married yet," you whisper. "Won't be until this off-season."
"Might as well be," he states, the intense look on his face as he locks eyes with you feeling even more intimate than his cock moving inside you.
About twenty minutes into making the kind of slow-burn love that makes your toes curl, he stops his thrusts while buried deep inside you and meets your gaze. "I gotta stop for a sec," he murmurs, licking his lips and giving you a smile. "I'm close and I don't wanna cum yet. You feel too good."
"Okay," you breathe, raising a hand to brush his unruly curls off of his forehead, biting your lip when your core involuntarily clenches around his thick length. "Sorry," you whisper at his sharp intake of breath. "Didn't mean to do that."
"It's okay," he soothes, dropping a lingering kiss on your lips before staring into your eyes, his expression hard to read.
"What are you thinking?" you ask. "That I'm lucky to have you," he answers, capturing your lips before you can return the sentiment; he deepens the kiss and resumes thrusting, groaning when you dig your heels into his back and arch up against him. "Jesus, I'm close," he grits out a little while later, dropping a hand down to tease your clit, his climax hitting a few seconds after yours.
After a few minutes of mutual heavy breathing he locks eyes with you again, his face so close to yours that you breathe each other's breath as you continue to recover from the intense climax. He eventually drops a kiss on your lips and rolls off of you, immediately pulling you against him, his big spoon to your little spoon; he buries his nose in your hair and inhales deeply a few times before speaking.
"This game will eventually chew me up and spit me out; it means a lot to know you'll always be there for me."
"Always," you echo back to him, a little overwhelmed at the raw vulnerability in his words, a vulnerability that he usually keeps to himself. You wonder if you should say something else. Maybe I should reassure him a little more? you think to yourself, breathing a sigh of relief when he let's out a tiny snore. Another twenty minutes pass before your mind quiets down enough for you to join him in sleep.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Monday, 9/18/23
The next day passes by quickly, and before you know it you're snuggled on the sofa with Joe watching the Browns vs Steelers on Monday Night Football. Early in the second quarter you're resting your head on his shoulder and barely paying attention to the game when he flinches hard. "Fuck!" he snaps, immediately turning the TV off when you ask "what happened?"
"Somebody got hurt," he answers.
"Why did you turn the TV off?"
"Because it's bad and I don't want you to see it."
"It was that bad?"
"Yeah," he nods, wincing as he watches the replay on his phone. "Nick Chubb got his knee caved in. Do NOT watch the replay, okay?"
"I hate this fucking game," you mumble, untangling yourself from his embrace before rushing upstairs, tears spilling down your cheeks as you curl up on the bed.
He walks into the room a minute later, stretching out beside you as you cry into your pillow. "I'm sorry I'm burdening you with my emotions," you sniff, burying your face deeper into your pillow. "You're not burdening me," he soothes, running a hand up and down your back. "I'm the reason you're worried, and I can't do anything about that, but at least let me hold you while you cry, okay?"
You eventually roll over and bury your face in his neck, crying harder for a few minutes before finally calming down, his warmth, his scent and his soothing words a balm to your frazzled nerves.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Tuesday, 9/19/23 - Saturday, 9/23/23
The next several days pass by uneventfully, with Joe heading out in the mornings after breakfast and not returning until dinner time, heading upstairs to his office after dinner to watch film while you throw yourself into a work project you volunteered for to get your mind off of other things.
You'd agreed not to ask about the status of his injury, instead trusting him to let you know if the status changed, one way or the other.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday, 9/24/23
On Sunday he heads to Sam's house to watch football with some of the guys; you give him a kiss as he leaves, letting him know you're going out with the girls later for dinner and drinks.
Several hours later you wave goodbye to your friends as they drop you off in front of your house; you sashay up the stairs to the front door, the tequila in your system putting a little extra swish in your step. You unlock the door and twirl your way into the house, letting out a sharp squeal when you see Joe leaning against the wall. "Holy shit! You scared me!" you snap, your pulse picking up as he pushes away from the wall and approaches you.
"Why did I scare you?" he asks.
"I just … I thought you'd already be at the team hotel, so I wasn't expecting you to be home."
"I've got like two hours until curfew; you really thought I was gonna go there that early?"
You shrug. "Guess I thought wrong."
"Guess so," he mutters, giving you a thorough up-and-down look. "You look incredible," he continues, his gaze taking in your fitted wrap sweater, mini skirt and patent leather heels. He leans down to press a kiss on your neck. "How many guys hit on you tonight?"
"None," you snort. "We went to that dive bar & grill just down the street from Gina's house. It was practically empty except for us."
"I don't believe you," he whispers against your ear. "No way you didn't get hit on looking like this."
"Umm, I totally didn't get hit on." You lean back and lock eyes with him. "Where's this coming from? Are you drunk?"
"No, I'm not drunk. Are you?"
You shrug. "I'm a little buzzed. I had two margaritas, but I'm not the one making weird accusations. What's up?"
He takes a deep breath before responding. "I'm afraid you're gonna get tired of being in a constant state of anxiety and just decide I'm not worth it."
"Huh?" you mumble. "What are you talking about?"
"I just feel like you'd be happier with a guy who has a normal job -- like an accountant -- instead of having to be worried about me getting broke in half every week during the season."
"Nope," you chuckle, shaking your head. "I don't love your job but I love you."
"You're laughing but I'm serious."
"I'm serious, too."
He studies your expression for a few heartbeats before speaking up again. "What if I said I want to get a marriage license in the next few weeks and go down to the courthouse and get married?"
Your eyebrows head toward your hairline as you consider the question. "So no wedding?"
"We can still have a huge wedding, I just … what if we got married and didn't tell anybody. Just a secret between us."
You swallow hard as you contemplate his request, taking a deep breath before answering. "Okay," you chirp. "Let's do it!" The surprised look on his face making you giggle.
"What's so funny?" he asks.
"You bluffed and I called it," you giggle even harder, your stomach doing a flip at the serious look on his face. He braces a hand on the wall above your head then slowly moves forward, backing you up until there's barely breathing room between you; he licks his lips, his gaze dropping to your mouth before recapturing your gaze. "What makes you think I'm bluffing?" he asks.
You stare into his eyes for several seconds before looking down at your feet, the shiny patent pumps giving you an idea. "Sorry, I can't think straight when my feet hurt," you mutter, gasping when he immediately scoops you up bridal-style and heads for the living room, sitting you on the sofa before dropping to his knees at your feet.
The second he slides your heels off and starts massaging your feet with his talented fingers you know exactly where this is headed; it's been a couple days since y'all had sex, and that -- plus the tequila in your system -- pretty much guarantees that the next forty minutes are deliciously raunchy.
You untie your wrap sweater and unhook your front-clasp bra while he pushes your skirt up and slides your panties off, his eyes dark with arousal as he settles between your spread thighs, his tongue and fingers expertly bringing you to climax before he kisses his way down your legs and goes back to rubbing your feet.
You watch him for a few minutes as you come down from the orgasm, fully expecting him to pounce you once you catch your breath. When he doesn't make a move you take matters into your own hands, teasing your nipples while he watches then sliding a hand down to rub your clit, the sound he makes low in his throat causing your core to contract.
You slide a finger inside your slick heat, your breath catching in your throat when he leans forward and sucks your finger into his mouth, licking it clean before thrusting his tongue inside you, his big hands sliding up to tease your breasts as he brings you to the brink yet again; he shoves his shorts and undies down when you beg for his cock, burying his hard length deep inside you and riding you hard until you come apart, your fingernails digging into his muscular shoulders as he fucks you through the intense orgasm, his own climax hitting just a few heartbeats later.
After several minutes he locks eyes with you, smiling when you tweak the curl gracing his forehead. "You better get going," you whisper, biting your lip as he pulls out of you. "Let's take a quick shower together first," he orders, helping you off the sofa and ushering you upstairs.
He turns the shower on and steps inside. "You're gonna be a game time decision tomorrow, right?" you ask, stepping into the shower and leaning into him as he pulls you close. "Yes, ma'am," he answers. "You're gonna play, aren't you?" you whisper against his chest. "Yes, ma'am," he repeats, dropping a kiss on your forehead as you heave a sigh.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Monday, 9/25/23
You lean against the wall in the stadium tunnel, your entire body buzzing from the excitement of the electric atmosphere and the much-needed win over the Rams.
Joe was still hampered by the calf injury, but he seemingly got through the game without hurting it worse. That plus him and Ja'Marr hooking up for 141 yards was enough to put a goofy grin on your face. Your grin morphs into a huge smile when you see him approaching, his own face sporting a smile that will have the internet swooning, and rightfully so.
You hang back and let his parents hug him first, your pulse rate picking up when he locks eyes with you and steps forward, enveloping you in a tight hug before dropping a quick kiss on your lips. Your eyes go wide at the rare PDA. "I'm so p…proud of you," you sputter, more than a little flustered at the look on his face. "Thanks," he grins. "See you at home," he continues, leaning down until his mouth is touching your ear. "Hope you're not too tired," he whispers, his hot breath in your ear setting off a steady throb between your legs.
He leans back and takes in the look on your face, his eyes flicking down to your white knee boots and lingering there for a few heartbeats before he gives you a quick wink and heads toward the locker room.
~ ~ ~
Once back home you take a shower and crawl into bed, knowing Joe will come directly upstairs once he gets home, just like he always does when his parents spend the night after a late game.
It's not long before your phone rings; you check the display, butterflies taking flight in your stomach as you answer. "Hey babe."
"Hey," Joe says. "Are my parents still up?"
"No. They crashed like an hour ago. Your mom and I are gonna cook brunch tomorrow."
"Sounds great. Are you tired?"
"No," you whisper, your body reacting to his sensual tone.
"You still wearing those boots?"
"No. You want me to put 'em back on?"
"Yeah. Just the boots and nothing else."
"Yes, sir," you purr.
"I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Can't wait." You end the call and ease out of bed, walking into your closet to grab the white platform knee boots; you slide your panties off and step into the boots, fluffing your hair as you check your reflection in the full-length mirror, thanking your lucky stars that the guest room Joe's parents are sleeping in is downstairs and on the opposite side of the house.
A glint of light reflected in the mirror catches your eye and you look down, smiling when you realize it's your engagement ring. A thrill runs through you as you remember Joe calling you "my wife" just over a week ago when you were making love. You bite your lip when you think of just how close that is to being a reality, taking a deep breath as you let your mind rewind to earlier this morning.
~ ~ ~
He'd left the team hotel early this morning and dropped by the house to have breakfast with you like he always does for home games. He seemed more fidgety than normal, but you chalked it up to game day nerves until he cleared his throat and hit you with a serious question.
"What I said last night about getting married … we can do it during the upcoming bye week. We can apply for a marriage license and get married the same day."
You finished chewing a bite of waffle before swallowing and taking a gulp of orange juice, your mind racing as he continued.
"What do you say?" he asked. "Will you secretly marry me?"
"Yes!" you chirped, both of you grinning like idiots at each other at the thought of sharing such a delicious secret for several months until your actual wedding.
You bit your lip as another thought hit you. "What if some nosy asshole digs around and finds our marriage license? Are those public record?"
"Not if you have enough money."
"Oh, well I guess it's not a problem then, Mr. Money Bags," you teased.
"That'll be Mr. & Mrs. Money Bags in just a few more weeks."
~ ~ ~
You smile at your reflection as your mind snaps back to the present. You grab the black and white tiger-striped scarf you wore to the game and walk into the bedroom, draping the sheer fabric over your bedside lamp to add a little mood lighting, your pulse kicking into overdrive when you hear your soon-to-be husband's car pull into the garage.
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The Stranger - Pt 1
Part Two | Part Three
Pairing: Namor x Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: Language, blood, brief mentions of violence and alcohol
Summary: Upon discovering the unconscious body of a woman floating in the water, you rush to provide aid. Little do you know her people are searching for her, bringing a mysterious man to your door.
A/N: Still very new to writing fanfic (this is literally post number two), but couldn’t get this drabble out of my brain for a week so here it is. Please be kind!
***I do not give permission to copy, plagiarize, or repost my work as your own in any form!
It’s close to dusk when you make your way from town back to your home on the secluded shoreline. With food and supplies in a bag slung over your shoulder, it will be another two or three days before you head back to restock. Although a fair distance, you have come to cherish the 5-mile trek into town. Walking along less traveled paths, visiting with the locals, and admiring the breathtaking nature around you have become some of your favorite things about living on the island.
As the sun steals its last glimpse over the horizon, the vibrant orange and purple hues stretching across the sky begin to dim. The outline of a small bungalow comes into view about a hundred meters down the way. The warm glow of lanterns you hung before you left shines from the front porch, welcoming your return.
You stumbled across this place two years ago, abandoned and needing major repair. Maybe it was just your nature to see the beauty and potential in broken things, but as soon as you laid eyes on the residence, your heart was set on it. Wrapped around the front is a porch with stairs that lead down onto a stone path, eventually making its way to the sand. Through the front door, an open entryway and a small kitchen are situated to the left accompanied by a simple sitting area. To the right is a doorway that leads to your bedroom and bathroom. It's a humble home, but you've worked hard to make it comfortable.
As you walk the familiar pathway toward the bungalow, you look out at the ocean. You watch as the water dances its way up the beach with every push and pull of the tide, waves gently lapping their way up onto the sand to make a melodic rhythm. You breathe in the salty air and revel in the beauty the island so generously offers.
The moment of serenity is interrupted when, out of the corner of your eye, you notice something just past the wave breaks. You squint as you try to focus your gaze to ensure the evening shadows aren't playing tricks on you. A shiver shoots down your spine.
There's something floating in the water. Only, it's not something. It's someone.
"Oh my god," you say in disbelief, your eyes widening as you feel the air rush from your lungs.
You react on pure instinct, immediately dropping your bag to the ground and sprinting into the water. Taking a deep breath, you plunge straight into the waves, pumping your arms and kicking your legs until they burn. You swim as hard as you can toward the body as it floats face down.
When you reach it, you fear the worst. Quickly you turn it over to check for a pulse and discover it is a woman. Her frame is small, but she's solid and muscular. Body adorned with beautiful gold and jade trinkets, she appears to be wearing some sort of woven armor. You also notice her raven-black hair tied in a knot on top of her head, and a mesh-like apparatus covering her nose and mouth.
You carefully cradle the woman's head, lifting it out of the water.
"What the hell??" You mutter in shock.
Right before your eyes, part of the woman’s face that is now exposed to the air turns a pale pigment of blue. She seems human enough, yet the way the blueness of her skin contrasts with its golden tones underneath the ocean surface makes you question what she might be instead.
All thoughts are pushed aside, however, the moment your attention is drawn to the sight of blood. Two gouges, a laceration across her shoulder, and a wound to her abdomen are seeping red into the salt water. She’s in poor condition and time is not on your side.
Doing your best to grapple her body, you kick your feet and pull the woman back to shore. The tide's added assistance gives you both the momentum needed to propel you toward the beach. As soon as you are able to stand, you turn and haul her body the rest of the way out of the ocean.
Gently you lay her on a patch of dry sand as you take a moment to catch your breath. Your chest repeatedly rises and falls, your lungs straining for more oxygen. Staring at her now, you feel your heart nearly pounding out of your chest as the rest of her body turns the same shade of blue as her face. You shake your head as you fight back both your fear and curiosity. Whatever the woman's origins, tending to her wounds is your main priority. Help her now, and ask questions later.
Still unconscious, you reach up to remove the apparatus over her face, preparing to administer CPR. Suddenly, her arm shoots out and grasps your wrist, scaring the shit out of you. With unbelievable strength, she restrains any movement your hand could possibly make. Her eyes are wide and intense, pupils dilated.
"Okay, okay, I won't mess with it!" You promise. Her grip slackens as her eyes roll to the back of her head, losing consciousness again.
You rub your wrist, the bruise already forming. Deciding it would be best to move her from behind, you link yourself under her arms and pull her towards your home, unwittingly leaving a trail of sand and blood behind you.
Making it to the bungalow, you manage to get the woman inside and onto your kitchen table. She's breathing, but it's shallow. Quickly, you grab all the first aid and sewing supplies you can scrounge out of the cabinets. You swipe a bottle of tequila from the shelf above the sink for good measure. Then you get to work to patch her up the best you can.
You clean the wound on her abdomen first, as that's where the bleeding is most prominent. Disinfecting it, applying pressure, then sewing it up, you focus meticulously on the needle in your hand, threading it back and forth through her skin. Once you finish, you fashion a bandage to soak up the excess blood.
The sky is dark as you move on to her shoulder to do the same. It feels like hours have gone by as you continue dressing the woman's wounds. It’s well into the night now, and the only light reflecting off the ocean for miles is from the moon and the lanterns of your home.
That's when he finds you.
A dark figure emerges from the water. He surveys the scene in front of him, eyes filling with rage as his focus dials in on the bloody trail leading up to your door. Spear in hand and body seething with anger, he marches towards your little house.
Just as you clip the thread used to sew up the woman's shoulder and begin to apply another bandage, you're startled by a deafening CRASH!
Behind you, your front door gets obliterated. Through it, storms a man who quickly steps over the wooden debris that now litters the floor. His presence swallows the room as water drips off of his body. His eyes lock on to yours.
"Holy shit!" You exclaim in terror. Before you know what is happening, he has made his way over to you, aggressively backing you up against the kitchen cabinets.
Face-to-face with you now, he holds the tip of his spear to your throat, grazing your skin with it threateningly. He leans in so close you smell the salty ocean spray that covers his dark skin and can practically see your reflection in the cold piece of jade pierced through his septum. His breath is steady, but his glare is wild and ferocious. You raise your hands, attempting to show you mean no harm, only you don't account for the fact that your arms are covered in the woman's blood. His look becomes more menacing.
"What have you done?" He growls, his voice low and dangerous. A fire is burning in his eyes as they widen with rage.
"I'm helping her! I'm helping her!" is all you manage to say as you plead your case to the mysterious, hostile stranger.
His stare remains intense as you feel the growing pressure of the cold metal spear against your throat. Everything inside you is screaming, telling you to close your eyes and that one way or another it will all be over soon. But you don't - you hold your ground and hold his gaze, searching his face for any shred of hope that he will spare your life.
The man's eyes flick over to the woman on the table, taking in more of the scene. As his head turns, you notice his pointed ears and beautifully hand-carved gauges made of jade. He turns his head slowly back to you, looking at you this time as if deliberating in his mind whether or not you are telling the truth.
Again he leans in close, and you hold your breath as you await his final verdict.
"You will speak of this to no one." It's not a question. It's a command.
You nod, willing to agree to anything at this point if it means not having your jugular sliced open.
"You will forget this night, and what you have seen."
Again you nod.
He keeps the spear pointed at your throat while carefully backing away toward the table. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as adrenaline pumps through your veins. You don't dare move a muscle.
The man retreats, withdrawing his spear and scooping up the woman who looks so petite in his arms. He carries her through the doorway but stops to look back at you. He says nothing, but his eyes are deadlocked on yours. You can’t describe or decipher the electric sensation that runs through your body at that moment, so you chalk it up to being in shock.
Finally, he turns to leave, seemingly floating down to the shoreline with the woman securely in his arms. You watch as they disappear into the ocean and the night.
Left alone, surrounded only by silence, the stinging memory of a blade against your neck, and a buzzing in your chest, you look around the empty kitchen. Blood and first aid supplies cover your table; debris that was once your front door now lays scattered across the floor, a draft gliding its way through your home.
Your mind is still processing everything that has happened. Physically and emotionally, you are exhausted.
"Screw it," you say out loud, grabbing the tequila still on the table and taking a swig straight from the bottle. "I'm going to bed."
--
You wake up the next morning as the sun is starting to rise and feel just as exhausted as when you had fallen asleep. Your mind is hazy. Your body is sore. You get up and pull on a fresh shirt and some shorts before making your way out of your bedroom. Groggily you shuffle through the entryway and into the kitchen to greet last night's mess.
Only a few steps into the kitchen, however, you stop. Blinking a few times, you rub your eyes. On the table, where bloodied gauze, cloths, sewing needles, and the works had been scattered, now sits your bag next to a neat pile of the food and supplies you had gathered from yesterday's trip into town. You look down at your feet to discover a clean, debris-less floor. Moving in reverse, you pace a few steps back into the entryway and turn your head. Stunned, you see a new, beautifully carved wooden door in place of where your old one had been kicked down the night before.
You pinch your temples as you try to convince yourself you're not losing your mind. You move closer to inspect the door. Eyes full of wonder and amazement, you run your fingers down its wooden grooves. The surface is smooth as stone, yet the grain in it gives the material a richness that makes your jaw drop as you admire it.
Before you can even ask yourself how it was possible, you open the door and your breath catches in your throat. The man from last night is sitting there on your front porch, legs hanging off the edge of it, looking out at the softly illuminated horizon.
"I apologize about the door." He says, still facing the ocean.
Fear takes over as you find yourself frozen in his presence. He senses your uneasiness and, still seated on the edge of the porch, turns toward you. He raises one hand to the air as a sign of his peaceful intention.
"I promise I am not here to bring harm to you... or your home," he adds, his eyes trailing toward the doorway. You say nothing, equally stunned and confused by his being there.
"I am sorry for threatening you," he says, his voice turning somber. "I didn't know what you were doing to her."
"Is she okay?" You ask, finally finding your voice. "Your wife?"
He lets out a sharp chuckle.
"Namora isn't my wife, she's one of my generals -- my best, in fact. And yes, she is okay, thanks to you."
A general. You avert your gaze, feeling foolish for assuming incorrectly. Suddenly the events of last night take on a different tone than what you had perceived.
"We had been searching for her for two days." The man continues to explain, "When I finally traced her whereabouts here and found her with you, I assumed the worst." He looks back out toward the ocean. "History has not typically been kind to my people in these types of situations."
You feel your chest tighten as the weight of his words sinks in. Your eyes wander from the ground up to the stranger. You watch as beads of salt water forge paths on his skin, rolling from his dark slick hair down the toned muscles of his back.
"Who... are your people, exactly? Who are you?" You find the courage to ask.
He turns back to look at you, raising an eyebrow in your direction as he considers his answers.
"There are some who know me as K’uk’ulkan." He says thoughtfully. "But most know me as Namor." Pushing himself up to a stand, he continues, "As for my people, that is a discussion for another time."
Namor walks up to you, and once again you find yourself face-to-face with him. Only this time his presence is not menacing, it's hypnotizing.
"Thank you," he says softly, "for what you did. It will not be forgotten."
There's a rich sincerity in his voice. Mesmerized by it, all you can muster in response is a nod of your head. A slight smile pulls at the corners of Namor's mouth as he closely studies your face. The light of the morning sun reflects in his eyes, and where you had only seen brooding darkness before, you now see shimmering flecks of gold. Everything about him is beautiful.
"You are not what I expected." He says warmly, leaning in closer as if the two of you are sharing a secret. He lingers there a moment longer. Then, all too soon, he nods and turns to head down the stairs of your front porch. As he reaches the end of the stone walkway, he stops before stepping out onto the sand.
"Remember," he says, repeating his instructions from your encounter last night, only gentler. "Speak of this to no one."
"Will you be back?" You ask earnestly. You don't know what prompts your question, other than the thought of his departure suddenly pulling at your soul in a way you can't explain.
He turns back to look at you and smiles. You return it with a smile of your own. No words are needed for you to know that somehow, someday, you would see him again.
You watch from the porch as Namor strides out into the water and disappears below the surface. The sun glimmers brilliantly across the waves as they engulf him in their deep abyss.
#namor#namor x reader#namor x you#mcu namor#namor x y/n#k'uk'ulkan#namor fluff#namor imagine#mcu imagine#namor fanfic#namor fanfiction#namora#wakanda forever#namor x gen!reader#namor x fem!reader
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I might be a little bit late to the game, but...
So while rewatching 7x03 I got a closer look at that famous background scene with Eddie, Buck and Tommy, and probably someone has already noticed it, but I think it truly is a masterful piece of foreshadowing.
A detailed breakdown of the scene below.
So remember. All of it is happening during an epic, romantic, cheesy reunion between Bobby and Athena with blaring romantic music that was so over the top that I had to look away during my initial viewing and hence I missed the hidden background scene entirely the first go around.
First, Eddie and Buck enter the shot together, Tommy is lagging behind, hidden behind the stairs.
This is the status quo. Eddie and Buck have yet to actually interact that much with Tommy.
Then Tommy comes in, in a pilot's uniform, and immediately comes in-between them, a bright contrast.
He continues on for a little bit longer, to stand closer to Eddie. The camera, to make sure we don't miss it, leaves Bobby and Athena out of it for a little bit.
This is, obviously, the Buck, Bothered and Bewildered part of it, where Tommy and Eddie hit it off and Buck is left standing just a little bit off balance.
Then comes the unhinged part. Eddie starts to leave... and blends with Tommy into a single person because you couldn't be anymore on the nose about it. (Is Tommy Eddie's double? Is he a mirror? You tell me! He's also hidden from view by Eddie, so he's overshadowed? And yet, he's closer to Buck, so more readily available?! Oh, the theories, they be spinning!)
And immediately, while Eddie is still in the shot, Buck turns towards and reaches out to Tommy, who is still looking at Eddie walking away.
The music lulls softly, the camera closes in on Buck and Tommy in an intimate close up that lingers juuust a bit longer than you would expect, with genuine emotion coming from Buck.
This is the "getting your attention" bit, where Tommy is surprised and reaches back, but when he does...
... Buck is already walking away. He takes his sweet time letting go of Tommy's shoulder, sure, but he's already moving away. Tommy is still smiling, and there aren't any hard feelings. They have a touching moment, but it's not going to last that long, because the pull towards something else is too strong. And in the next shot...
... Diaz and Buckley walk off together into the rising sun, overlaping so much they are almost blended together, and accompanied by the romantic music continuing on sweetly and the finale of Bobby and Athena's reunion.
tldr: this whole scene is a metaphor for this entire arc and I'm a buddie endgame truther forever.
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thief
→ pairing: yan!jjk x reader
→ synopsis: in which a girl's purse gets stolen by an unlikely thief.
→ wc: 3167
→ cws: mentions of getting raped/murdered (not implied to have happened/will happen, more acknowledging that it could have happened), implied smut at the end
→ notes: aaa i hope you guys like it!!!
—
the sound of quiet chatter buzzed in the atmosphere. as you ascended the stairs leading to the subway station, the brisk evening air hit your face, leaving a bitter kiss on your exposed cheeks and prompting you to adjust your fuzzy white scarf to sit just a little bit above your nose.
you walked hurriedly, eager to get out of the cold and home to the hot shower and sofa that had been calling your name all day. your job, an assistant to the director at a small, ordinary insurance company was just that; ordinary. there was little to no substance to your work, and the most exciting topics of discussion were whose kids were getting married and what type of sweets were sitting in the break room. as mundane as it was, you appreciated the routine of it. your boss was like every other, your fellow office ladies treated you well, and it put food on the table, so who were you to complain?
as you strayed further and further from the subway exit, and strolled through more isolated and empty streets, you quickened your pace and stood up straighter, sticking close to the white glow of the streetlights. though the neighborhood you lived in was fairly safe and quiet, things still happened. glancing at the dark houses surrounding you, you kept walking, soles hitting the concrete with a soft thud with every step you took.
you were snapped out of your thoughts of dinner and a movie when you noticed something at the end of the street. more accurately, someone. their tall, shadowy figure contrasted sharply with the brightness of the streetlight they stood under, and it was only drawing closer to you. sticking your hands deep into your pockets and averting your eyes from the dark silhouette of the man that was moving in your direction, you took a deep breath and tried to clear your mind of the anxious thoughts that began to cloud the serene skies of your psyche.
calm down. not everybody you see out at night is a murderer.
the man, who you could now see was donning a black face mask and matching black hoodie, walked with slumped posture and his hands hanging sadly by his side. despite his depressing stance, he was very obviously a good bit taller than you and had a full, strong, build. in other words, he could, without a doubt, pick you up and shove you into a car with ease no matter how hard you fought back. a chill ran down your spine at the very thought, and as you finally passed by him, you silently prayed to every single god, goddess, and deity in the sky as he whooshed by. your relief, which was sweet and comforting, pushed the anxiety out of your body and wrapped you up in a warm hug as he left your peripheral vision.
that was, until you felt a strong yank on your purse from behind.
your stomach lurched at the sudden movement. the force, which was strong enough to rip your hand from the warmth of your pocket, pulled your arm backwards far enough to almost make you fall over. you felt the thin leather strap of your purse slide off your coated arm, past your shaking hand and into the grasp of the man you had just seen.
he took off down the street with loud, thumping, footsteps. it was in this very moment in time, this exact millisecond, you messed up, bad.
fueled by adrenaline, and without doing any logical thinking, you raced after him, heart pumping wildly in your chest as you struggled to catch up with him. your bag, which was a bright and bold red color, stuck out amongst the darkness of his outfit and the night around you, and, from this point of view, looked more like a big target rather than a cool accessory.
your forehead broke out into an uncomfortable sweat as you continued after him. the man had stamina, you'd give him that. it was unsurprising to you, based on the sole fact that he looked like he spent most of his life at the gym, but you had to give him credit. this man could run.
your lungs, which were screaming for a break by this point, were on the verge of collapse. your feet ached from how hard they were hitting the ground, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. a sharp, sudden, pain struck you in your side, the same type of pain you'd get after running for too long on the playground as a kid. and a hard lump sat in the back of your throat, thick and painful as you tried to swallow the saliva in your mouth. you could feel yourself staggering, quickly losing your pace and letting him get ahead. he, on the other hand, looked like he could do this for days, his strides long and even, his posture now perfect, and his speed unmatched.
your entire body protested, sending you more than enough signals that it was time to stop, but your mind persisted, urging you to keep going and reclaim what was yours. just when you were about to give up, one of the gods you had prayed to earlier finally woke up, saw your situation, and decided to grant you some mercy. whether it was true mercy or disdain in disguise, was a question without a clear answer. this action manifested in the form of the thief in front of you turning a corner into what you understood to be a long, narrow, alleyway.
though you were grateful that he was now cornered and stuck, you couldn't help but wonder why he had chosen to go down there. it was fairly obvious by the trashcans and dumpsters that this wasn't a traveled and open road, but a dead end, a guaranteed end to a glorious race in which he would come out to be the loser. why did he choose to take this route?
ignoring your own confusion, you gasped for air after your sprint and wondered if it was even worth it. this was the very situation you had been warned about your entire life, one that plagued your mind on nights such as this one and added to the endless worries already stuck in your mind. and besides, by now, the slimy perp had probably jumped whatever fence was at the back of the alley and could very well be in the next town over by now.
accepting your defeat and resigning to your fate of having to replace almost everything you owned, you started to turn away from the shady alley and start back towards your house, still struggling to get a full breath of air into your burning lungs. you paused when you heard quiet footsteps from behind you. before you could actually react, you felt a strong hand land on your right shoulder and pull you backwards, almost making you stumble onto the ground. the person's other hand tightly grasped the upper left quadrant of your arm, pulling you closer to their chest.
you shrieked, flailing your one free arm and trying to step on their foot in an attempt to loosen their grip. they took the hand off your shoulder and instead clasped it over your mouth, silencing your screams as they gently guided you to walk into the dark and mysterious alley. over the pounding of your heart, which was loud and banging in your ears, you could hear some mumblings of what sounded like gentle and quiet praise, which is the last thing you would've expected from somebody who had just robbed you and forced you into an alley.
he slowly led you to the back of the creepy passage, not bothering to be rough or abrasive in the process. upon observation, you didn't see much besides trash and puddles of murky water. what stuck out to you was really your purse. instead of it being dumped out, open, or otherwise discarded lazily, it was instead sitting neatly in a dry part of the alley, away from any garbage or liquids. it looked like it had been placed there with care and concern, which further puzzled you on what this guy's intentions were.
you finally stopped walking, the man behind you removing the large hand that gripped your arm. before he removed the hand from over your mouth, he leaned in closer to your ear, close enough for you to feel his breath on your neck and smell the sweet cologne on his skin. "you'll be quiet for me, right? you won't scream or yell?" he asked, sending a shiver down your back. his voice was deep and masculine yet still, somehow, soft and kind. you nodded shakily, too scared to act out of line and subject yourself to more pain than you were already in for.
slowly taking his hand away from your dry mouth, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. he took both of his hands and sat them upon your shoulders once again, guiding you to sit down against a rough brick wall. pushing you to the ground, you sank down with your knees tight against your chest, shivering from the cold, damp, pavement. at this point, his tall figure was towering over you, causing your heart to sink down to your stomach and making your hands sweat. so many thoughts ran though your head, seeping into your mind like red ink on a clean white shirt.
the man, who has busied himself with removing his mask and pulling his hood slightly back, knelt down right in front of you. if you didn't know any better, you would've mistaken this man for a celebrity, based on looks alone. you hated yourself for thinking so, but he was undeniably and undoubtedly the most handsome man you had ever seen in your whole life. his face was angelic, which was ironic seeing as this man was the furthest thing from a symbol of heaven that you had ever met. his eyes, instead of being dark, beady, and lifeless, were round and bright. his pupils glinted in the light of the streetlamp outside the alley, despite the distance between the two. his nose was smooth and sharp, and his lips were thin but still nice, adorned with a shiny ring on the bottom left. his hair, which partially stuck out of his black hood, was cut into a chic and modern mullet-like style. no, there was no denying that this man was handsome, but all that glitters is not gold, and that was more than obvious in this situation.
overwhelmed and scared, you couldn't control the tears that fell from your eyes and rolled onto your cheeks. a look of sadness and concern crossed the man's face, and he looked almost confused to see your emotional response. "don't cry, sweetheart, why're you crying?" he said affectionately, reaching out and wiping the tears that stained your face with his thumb. "hey, now...you don't have to cry. it's just me." he murmured, as if that would bring you any sort of comfort.
he sighed, and put his hands on your knees, which were the only thing in between you two. you shrunk back, as if you could get any further away from him. "don't hurt me. please, don't hurt me." you whispered desperately, voice quivering. he raised his eyebrows, surprised. "hurt you?! oh darling, you've got it all backwards." he cooed, half-smiling at you and your fear. "i'd never hurt you."
you exhaled shakily, still trembling under his continued touch on your knees. "princess, i understand that you're scared, but you don't need to be, alright? it's me, don't you remember me?" he asked, his thumbs making mindless little patterns on the fabric of your flared work pants. you looked at him, more confused than scared. remember him from where? was he an old classmate or coworker?
he picked up on your bewilderment, and smiled coolly. "oh, that's alright. we haven't seen each other for a while, and i guess you didn't really know about me." he said, "it's me, jungkook, from high school!" he exclaimed, his smile now wide and full. the name rang a bell, and you remembered seeing the young boy in passing sometimes. he wasn't someone you ever interacted with, you didn't know any friends of his and in general you didn't have anything to do with each other.
the look of realization that passed over your face didn't go unnoticed by him either, and he chuckled as he watched your thoughts unfold. "you remember me now?" he questioned, only to get no response from you. he sighed again, eyes wandering down your body and back up within a second. "man, highschool seems so long ago now. i was broke, and lonely, and head over heels for you--well, that part hasn't changed at all." he reminisced. your face contorted, from fear to visible confusion, and you managed to utter out one word. "what?"
he laughed softly, almost in disbelief. "yeah, it's true. from the minute i saw you, actually. you were--and still are--so bright, and beautiful, and kind...i wasn't exactly someone that you would hang around with. i was a loser, i was boring and awkward. but i still held onto you and kept you in my heart. i even made a promise to myself that one day, i'd get you all for myself, and...here we are." he said, beaming from ear to ear.
the world around you began to spin as you processed what he had just told you. what was he talking about, get you all to himself? how creepy! he didn't seem to think so, though. in fact, he seemed to have a sick and sinister sense of pride, a twisted feeling of confidence and an idea of love that had been twisted inside out and covered in a thick, sticky, coat of tar.
"why are you doing this?" you choked out, more tears threatening to leak from your eyes. he laughed at your inquiry, as if you had just asked the most obvious question known to mankind. "why am i doing this? oh, babe, you're so clueless, and that's exactly why. see, even though you are the most perfect and flawless girl in my eyes, you're just so...vulnerable. that's not anything to be ashamed of, darling, if anything, it's what i love most about you. you've never excelled in watching your surroundings or being careful, especially when we were younger. it was only a matter of time before something bad happened to you, i mean, look at you now! you need someone who can protect you from the danger that you would inevitably find yourself in, and that's where i come in." he explained calmly, stroking your hair gently as he did so.
the tears that stuck in your waterline ran down your face like raindrops on glass, smearing the black mascara you had put on earlier that morning. he scowled and wiped your tears once again. "oh, baby..." he whispered. without any warning or notice, he pushed one of your knees away from the other and slid forward, placing himself between your legs, so that they were wrapped around either side of his torso. despite your efforts to push him away, you were no match for him.
before you could move your head or pull away, jungkook leaned more forward and pressed his lips into yours. the kiss, while being gentle and sweet, also felt fiery and desperate. taking your bottom lip in between his teeth and slipping his tongue in your mouth, one of his hands shot to your waist and pushed you back into the wall, stilling your movements. the other hand reached up and cupped your face, angling your head in an attempt to reach further into your mouth.
despite everything in your brain, everything you had ever been warned about and against, everything that you had learned, a teeny, tiny part of your brain couldn't ignore how his lips against yours felt so good, so natural and safe, so right. every one of your instincts were telling you that this was more than a bad idea. these feelings also came with the gut-wrenching realization that jungkook was right. you were vulnerable, obviously, this man had just mugged you, led you into a dark alley where he could have easily raped or murdered you, and here you were making out with him?!
you couldn't stop the hand that flew to his bicep to pull him closer, and you felt him smirk against your swollen lips. his hands traveled from where they were to the buttons of your shirt, busying themselves with undoing the smooth plastic buttons. that was, until a police car sped past the alley, sirens and all, startling the both of you.
jungkook pulled away from your lips, sitting up and admiring the shade of purple that began to ghost your plump lips. you readjusted yourself, sitting up a bit straighter and avoiding his piercing gaze. "such a good girl...complain and cry all you want, my love, but something's telling me that you're more on board with this than you're willing to admit." he teased, a playful smile crossing his lips. "come on, you can say it. you want to come home with me, right? come on, i want you to tell me. you can do it." he prodded, stroking your cheek with his hand lovingly.
you nodded quietly, eyes glued to the ground, face pink and flushed.
hook, line and sinker.
he was definitely happy with you and your compliance, but he couldn't help but be both concerned and relieved at the same time. sure, you were vulnerable and overly-trusting, he knew that. but he expected a little more fight, even from you. his heart broke a little bit, at the thought of you being oh-so damaged that you fold the second he put his lips to yours. you poor little thing.
he knew you'd fall right into his little trap, he knew how you'd chase after him, he knew that you'd be scared. he knew you so well, yet you had still managed to shock him entirely. your trustful nature came as a surprise to him. and now, as the power to entirely destroy you sat in his tattooed hands, he had a choice to make.
did he stick to his original plan, and swear to keep you safe and happy, or did he
absolutely
ruin
you?
though he came here with pure intentions, the sinister opportunities that rested in front of him were too good to pass up. after all, he could always built you back from the ground up, couldn't he?
and now, within a split second, you went from a little lamb that had found her safe haven to one being led to its slaughter. lifting your chin slowly and meeting your eyes, jungkook gave you a sweet, innocent, smile and caressed your cheek.
"now, how about we finish what we've started?"
#bts#bts fanfiction#bts x reader#yandere bts#yandere bts x reader#yandere jungkook x reader#yandere jungkook#jungkook x reader#bts fanfic#yandere#yandere jeongguk#jeongguk x reader#jeon jungkook x reader
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No Good Deed [George Weasley x Reader]
Part 9 (final)
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.
Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.
Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.
Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Mentions of cheating, infidelity. Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.
The final chapter of this whirlwind story 🖤
In complete contrast to the bustling crowd and noisy room of chattering people, Diagon Alley was practically deserted at this late hour, the shops king since closed with only the hospitality locations open. Looking up at the familiar orange building, you pulled out your wand and cast the series of spells to unlock the protective enchantments before stepping inside and locking back up. You slipped out of your heels by clinging onto the stair rail before scooping them up in your hands and carrying them with you as you ascended the stairs, for once knowing exactly what you needed.
You knew if you returned to the flat George would immediately find you before you could have the chance to clear your head, to work out what you wanted and what you needed to say. There was only one thing that would bring you comfort now and as if you were completely on autopilot, you climbed the stairs and entered the flat above the shop.
It was different to how you remembered it, much emptier now then how it had been so many years ago, of course due to most of George's practical things being at your flat. You paused, standing outside the first door on the left after the little closer and hovered your hand across the doorknob, taking a deep breath to stabilise yourself before you slowly opened the door. Fred's room.
It was almost exactly as you remembered it though it was lifeless and the air was a little stale, a natural consequence of it being shut up for so long. Paperwork, scattered notes still littered the desk, along with a myriad of bits and bobs that he used whilst working on his new projects. The bed was made, the mismatch of random sheets and covers making you smile as they looked so perfectly Fred, so much so that you couldn't help but walk over and run your hand over the soft fabric, remembering how it had felt against your skin so long ago. Just like George, he had a large dresser against the back wall, almost like a complete mirror of George's room layout in reverse and you found yourself drawn to it almost immediately.
You opened a drawer and reached inside, feeling tears welling up in your eyes at the sight. His green 'F' jumper, knitted so many years ago by Molly, folded neatly into the drawer, right on top. You pulled it out and held it up to your face, desperately searching for the smell you remembered. It still smelt like him, though it was faint. The sugary sweet smell mixed with a natural musk and a side note of smoke, like a marshmallow that had been toasted a little too long. It mixed deliciously with the scent of Molly's washing powder concoction and blended all together to create the exact smell of Fred. Sweet and smoky, warm and comforting, just like him.
Tears streamed silently down your face as you held the jumper up to your face, never wanting to stop smelling the scent that filled your nose and your mind, so desperately wanting to feel him surround you. You took a seat on the creaky chair at his desk, still clutching the jumper tightly as you allowed yourself a little cry, though you weren't quite sure what you were crying for. Was it Freddie? A longing for simpler times when it was just the three of you without any complications. Was it George, and the events that had happened? Seeing him with someone else or his declaration of love that had felt so vividly real? Either way, your mind was a complete mush of emotion and memories, everything seeming to haunt you in that moment.
"I'm so sorry Freddie," you said out loud, tears still streaming down your face. "I just wanted to help. I couldn't let them take this away from George, not when he'd already lost so much. We both have."
You knew it was pointless to have a conversation with him, to speak to him as if he was there, as if he'd reply to you but in that moment, it helped. There was so much you needed to say to him that it seemed like the perfect time to unload your feelings.
"It's ridiculous isn't it, I'm completely pathetic. You'd tell me wouldn't you? Tell me I was being a prat, to just talk to him, 'it's not like he's going to petrify you'," you laughed through your tears, imagining the words coming out of Fred's mouth. "I miss you so much." More tears flowed as you spoke the words out loud, the silence of the room only highlighting your loss.
You were about to speak again when a picture on the desk caught your eye, one you'd never seen before. It was taken on Christmas Day at Grimmauld Place, just after Arthur had gotten home from St Mungo's. It was you, Fred and George, all dressed in your Christmas gifts from Molly and Arthur, the matching scarves for the twins and your own though yours was slightly darker in colour with your initial stitched into the flowing bit at the bottom. You were all smiling and laughing together, though you couldn't remember what about, huddled together around the fire in the lounge. You were looking at Fred and belly laughing, hunched over a little and resting your head against his shoulder. Fred looked completely elated, eyes almost closed in laughter, from the looks of it he was the instigator, as per usual. George was looking at you, openly cracking up with laughter but his eyes were focused in on you, his hand on your shoulder.
That one photo alone had seemed to give you complete clarity. It had cleared your head of all complications and all the events of the night, the good and the bad, and had transported you back to the time you were happiest, forcing you to realise what was truly important.
"How the bloody hell do you always know how to get me?" You mumbled with a smirk, speaking to Fred again as you tore yourself away from the photo. You knew what had to be done now, the time spent amongst Fred's things giving you the adjustment you needed to realise what your priorities should be. You stood up and walked over to the drawer, folding up the jumper and pressing a kiss to the embroidered F on the front before you placed it back into the drawer.
Closing the door behind you felt like closing another chapter in your life, a parting of ways of your old self as you prepared for what needed to be done. You walked out of the shop, stopping to place your heels on and locked up before apparating away back to your flat.
"Angel?" You heard almost as soon as your feet touched the ground. He sounded a mixture of relieved and panicked as he stepped into view, calling out for you. "Angel, I was so worried."
He reaches out as if he's going to pull you in to his arms but stops himself, knowing that you might not want him anywhere near you after the events earlier. He sees the messed up makeup on your face, no doubt fat tear marks littering your cheeks and his face immediately drops.
"I'm so sorry, I know you saw everything and I can't tell you how sorry I am. I never should have been up there with her, I realise it was stupid now but I really believed her little tale about the thestral thrashers- not that that's important now." He cuts himself off, realising he was waffling but you could hardly listen to him, too occupied by the genuinely remorseful look in his eyes. He looked more devastated than you did, and that was saying something. "I know our marriage is... complicated... but I would never do anything like that to you, I just couldn't."
His words hang in the air for a few moments as you'd process them, believing his every word.
"I know," you say quietly, the first time you'd spoken since arriving home.
"I know you might not believe me and- wait," he says, realising what you said. "You really believe me?"
"Yes George," you say stepping forward to reach out for him. Like an involuntary response, he pulls you in to his arms, never once taking his eyes off your face. There's a few moments that pass as you hold on to each other in comfortable silence and it's like the tension, the hurt and the distance between you had disappeared instantly in that moment. Water under the bridge, you thought.
"I'm sorry I haven't been around much, I've barely had time to sleep in between running the shop, sorting the new lines and getting the investors off my back," he admits with a bashful smile, stroking your hair as you hold on to each other.
"I could have helped you," you say, enjoying the soft material of his suit against your bare arms.
"I already ask too much of you," he says with a dismissive shrug, though his tone is light.
"I'm your wife," you say with your own shrug, and a smile, as if it was the most natural excuse in the word.
"Yeah, you are," he replies with a wide smile, still stroking your hair, as if the information had slowly sunk in, making him realise that you'd do anything for him.
"I have to ask," you say softly, gently pulling away and walking him over to the sofa by your joined hands until you're seated with your legs grazing one another.
"Anything," he says honestly.
"What happened?" You ask quietly, trying to keep the emotions out of your voice but some slipped through. "The honeymoon was, well it was perfect but then everything stopped. You didn't touch me anymore, hardly looked at me, what did I do?"
He looks up at you with a look of complete heartbreak at your final question and he scoots across the sofa to grab your legs, making sure you were focused on him as his right hand comes up to cup your face and jaw.
"You didn't do anything Angel, it was perfect but I was being selfish," he explains, his eyes imploring yours as if he needs you to know that it wasn't your fault. "When I accidentally called you, that, well I realised how insensitive I was being, how I'd let myself get carried away with the whole thing. You agreed to marry me for the sake of the business, it was never meant to be more but I couldn't help myself. I'd gone too far and I'd not considered your feelings, so I pulled away to make things less complicated."
"Which complicated things," you retort, a slight smirk tugging at your mouth. He snorts and nods as he takes in your words.
"I realise now that it was a stupid idea," he answers truthfully, still gently nodding. "I just didn't want you to feel any pressure to you know... with me. The last thing I'd ever want was to feel like an obligation, especially if you weren't into me."
You can't help but let out a little snort through your nose at his words, realising how completely wrong he'd got it.
"Yeah because I don't want to have sex with the boy I've fancied since fourth year," you sarcastically retort with a slight roll of your eyes and a smirk.
You wished you could have recorded George's reaction to your words so that you could replay it over and over again for the rest of your life. He chokes on nothing, eyes bulging as he stares at you in complete shock.
"You.. what?"
"What?" You ask, not sure what part he was questioning.
"We've been married for nearly six months, friends for well over a decade and this is the first time I'm hearing about this?" He looks utterly bewildered and it's all you can do not to chuckle, though that would probably not be the right reaction for this moment. "That would have been very helpful to know six months ago," he says, slowly becoming less shocked and more smiley. You smile back at him and nod, realising that you should have just told him, even if you ran the risk of losing him like you'd always feared.
"I was terrified of losing you, or making things awkward," you admit, "the last thing I ever wanted was to make things uncomfortable between us."
"Wait, what about Fred?" He asks, suddenly remembering your past situation-ship with his twin.
This time, you reach out for George's leg, trying to force the words out that you knew needed to be said after taking a big breath.
"Fred knew I liked you, he used to tease me about it incessantly, he figured it out just before fifth year," you say with a smile, memories of his teasing flashing in your mind as he realised not long after their trip to Egypt just how hung up on his twin you were. "But you never seemed to notice me, at least not like that. But then you asked Angelina to the ball and I was so upset, I knew then that you'd never look at me like that. Fred came to comfort me and we ended up drinking this huge bottle of fire whiskey and he asked me to the ball, though I always knew it was more of a pity date he always insisted that it wasn't." You paused, thinking of the picture in your memory box of you all at the Yule Ball. "Watching you dance with Angelina, you just looked so happy and it killed me."
You paused to take a breath, trying not to cry as you thought back to that night and how painful it had been to see him look so happy with someone else.
"Fred kissed me that night, told me I was beautiful. He knew he wasn't a replacement for you but he was the 'next best thing'," you air quoted him, hearing his voice so clearly, a chuckle falling from your lips. "It was never really supposed to go anywhere past that one night together but I guess we became friends with benefits and though I did have feelings for him, it was always you. He knew that, it's why we were never truly together. But then you found out about us and we realised that it had pushed you further away, I'd never get a chance with you after that so we tried to make the most of it but we could never really be together. I always wanted you."
He was silent as he listened to you, which only made you want to fill the somewhat awkward gaps in the conversation but you don't, knowing nothing more needed to be said.
George surprises you by pulling you in for a steaming hot kiss, without a single ounce of hesitation as you'd laid yourself bare before him, finally admitting everything you should have said at the beginning.
He pulls away suddenly with a look of pure mischief in his eyes.
"If you wanted to date me you could have just asked, didn't need to trick me into marrying you," he snarks and you instantly gasp and hit him in the chest as he laughs at you.
"I didn't trick you! You needed me to marry you for the business!"
"Hmmmm sure," he says, still smiling as he kisses you again, his hand cupping your jaw as the kiss heats up once again, though this time it's much more playful and teasing. "I'll let you tell our grandkids that."
"Pppft tell them yourself," you snark as he pulls you closer to him, identical grins on both of your faces.
"Oh I will," he smirks once he's got you pretty much in his lap, an impressive feat considering your rather restrictive dress. "Wait."
He shifts you slightly until you're beside him on the sofa again and he moves to stand up from the couch before kneeling down in front of you, on one knee.
"I realise we've done this completely out of sync here but I have loved you for so long, never thinking I'd ever get to be with you in my wildest dreams. Would you do me the honour of being my wife, wholly and completely?"
You surge forward even before he'd finished talking and sweep him into a breathtaking kiss, your hands reaching up into his hair and across his shoulders as he clutches at your waist. When you pull away, you're both in complete bliss, smiling at each other like fools as you catch your breath.
"I'm so glad, because I couldn't keep my hands off you for one more minute, look at you baby, so beautiful," he says, voice dropping lower as his eyes wash over you and your slightly dishevelled dress. His hands sneak back around your waist and around your jaw after pulling your hair away from your shoulder, lips crashing down onto yours, ready to claim you anew as his wife.
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#emeritusemeritus#emeritusemerituswrites#harry potter#george weasley masterlist#George Weasley#George Weasley x you#George Weasley x reader#George Weasley fluff#George Weasley smut#George Weasley angst#no good deeds
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clover :( omfg …. oc .. i 😞 and jun 😥😥
🫶🏽
a/n: read up on this post to learn about my semi-hiatus and what it means for cal
can’t afford love | myg (m) #21
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a yelp leaves your mouth at hearing the news
no.
there’s no way
God please
you almost drop to your knees but instead bend over to hold onto your nightstand
you shake your head like a maniac. “no, that’s impossible, mom. he hasn’t had one in 10 months, the doctors said he’d grown out of it!” you wiggle out of your bathrobe and throw a shirt on, a stark contrast in the things that you’re saying
yoongi looks concerned, very concerned as he reaches for his jacket and keys, copying you
just by your words, he knows what this is about
“stop arguing with me and get here! 3rd floor.”
that’s the last you hear of your mom before she hangs up
you freeze
phone in your hands drops to the floor with a loud clatter as you bend over and let out a blood curdling scream
yoongi instantly reaches for you and holds you tightly as he shakes your frame slightly. “jun needs us right now. we need to go.”
you take a deep breath in as you try to calm yourself and glance up at him
his own hands are shaking
his own throat is dry
his own eyes are wide in horror
but he’s staying calm to keep you calm
you quickly nod your head and sniff as you head into the hallway, not even taking a jacket as you forcefully shove your feet into some slippers and reach for the keys that are tossed onto the accent table by your front door
you swing the door open and strut out, hitting the elevator button repeatedly but giving up and heading for the stairs
yoongi appears behind you after you hear your apartment door shut loudly
he drapes a coat over your shoulders once you reach the ground floor and he pulls you to his car. “i’ll drive us there.”
he went and got you a coat when you rushed out the door
:(
you don’t protest as you get into the passenger seat
yoongi gets into his car quickly after and sighs softly. “put your seatbelt on.”
you fumble with the belt as yoongi puts on his own and quickly accelerates onto the road
it doesn’t take long for him to reach the hospital your mother works at
he parks messily by the entrance and you both jump out of the car as you run into the hospital
heading for the elevators, like a prayer was heard, there’s one wide open
you hop right into it with yoongi by your side and slam the 3rd floor button impatiently, panting loudly
when you keep doing it, yoongi grips your wrist and pulls it back. “hey, hey. what did we learn?”
he makes you look at him
and you do
you take a deep breath in through your nose and breathe out of your mouth
he nods in encouragement, slightly bending his knees to be eye level with you
“that’s it. again.”
you obey
“again.”
you obey.
by the time you want to do it a 4th time, the doors open and you’ve arrived on the third floor
you run up to the lady behind the counter to demand the location of your son but before you can do that, you hear your mother calling your name
you turn to look at her and notice she’s in her nurse uniform
you run up to her with yoongi in your wake and she walks you to jun’s room
as you approach the room, you see him
your son
your sun
your life
jun sits upright on the bed, holding an airplane toy, playing with it
this is when the tears finally burst out of you
you run up to him in his bed and pick him up
hugging his tiny, frail body, not caring about all the wires attached to him
“oh, baby. i love you so much. i love you so much. mommy was so scared.”
you sniff as you set him down again, happy to see him be himself once again
“mommy, no crying. more toys.” he says, attempting to wipe your tears with his fists
you hear yoongi and your mother chatting in the back for a little while as yoongi approaches you and jun
he kneels besides jun’s bed and ruffles through his hair. “how’s my little dumpling?”
he spends some time chatting with jun whilst you turn to look at your mom
“they wanna keep him overnight. him having a seizure after he supposedly has grown out of them is enough to do some more research and tests.”
you shake your head. “then i’m staying.”
“baby, you look a mess. i’ll be here with him. you need to go home and sleep.”
“i don’t want to go home, mom. i’m not leaving my child in a hospital all alone overni–”
“he’s not alone, he’s with me. i promise he’s in good hands, especially since i’m overlooking him as well. you have nothing to worry about.” your mom reaches out to rub your shoulders
you deeply sigh. you really don’t want to leave jun
“as of now, he’s completely back to normal, everything’s okay. nothing’s out of the ordinary. it’s like it didn’t even happen. they just want to make sure and run some more tests. i’ll bring him to you myself tomorrow. he needs to sleep now.”
you rub your forehead in frustration and glare at the ceiling.
you turn to look back at jun, approaching him and yoongi and listening in on their talk mid-convo
“and then, i yelled ‘aren’t you spiderman?’ and he looked at me. waved and told me to keep quiet before he disappeared again. we’re pretty much friends now. do you want to meet him one day?”
you hear yoongi telling one of his bullshit stories that jun loves and watch jun eagerly nodding his head
“okay, i’ll ask if you can meet him. but you’re gonna have to be a good boy, okay? spiderman doesn’t like bad kids.”
jun nods again and claps his chubby hands in excitement
you kneel next to the bed as well and explain the situation to yoongi
“yeah, your mom told me.” he rubs jun’s cheeks as his small hands play with the airplane’s wings
you sigh and rise to your feet. “i at least want to stay until he falls asleep.”
“he’s not going to sleep if you two are here,” your mother interrupts
“then why did you even ask me here?”
your mother says, “i didn’t know he was going to wake up. he was sound asleep until 10 minutes ago.”
you know you trust your mom with your son
your mother is a nurse and you’re happy he was with her when it happened, at least
you rub your hairline and look over to jun. “mommy’s gonna make your favorite tomorrow, okay? then we’ll have loads of sweets. you okay with that?” you whisper to him, pressing your lips to his forehead
he nods his head as he continues to play with his airplane
“okay. be good to grammy, okay?” yoongi asks him whilst caressing the back of jun’s head
jun simply nods again and then yawns
your heart aches
you really don’t want to leave
“c’mon,” yoongi whispers to you when he notices you refuse to move an inch
you sniff quietly. “give me a second.”
he grants your wish.
after a few more moments you turn to your mom. “please, put spongebob on for him. he’ll fall asleep right away if he keeps watching now.”
your mother nods and hugs you
yoongi bows his head to her and kisses her forehead before exiting the room with you by his side
jun’s not even paying attention to you once the tv shows spongebob, his big eyes focused on the tv that hangs from the ceiling
you sigh shakily before exiting the building in silence
the ride home is silent too
and upon arriving home, yoongi doesn’t unbuckle his seatbelt when he parks in front of your apartment building
doesn’t turn off the engine either
ah
you move to unbuckle your seatbelt really slow
yoongi is the first to break the silence. “i’ll come for dinner with jun tomorrow too, if that’s okay.”
you simply nod as you let go of the seatbelt and listen to it snap back in place
and it’s quiet again
really quiet
you don’t want him to leave
so
are you
gonna do it?
yes
or no?
to be continued.
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NOT TOO CLOSE ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ethan landry !!
⋆ ★ you remember the first night you met. the shared lingered feeling of a message you couldn’t quite decipher, something telling you all signs were red and pointing in the opposite direction; away from him. it’s too bad, you always had a thing for pretty boys. — short blurb !!
cw ᝰ.ᐟ sfw ,, ghostface!ethan ,, mentions of alcohol ,, first meeting ,, fem!reader ,, swearing
PURPOSELY LOWERCASE 🎧 &&. written on iphone , sorry if the formats funky !
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maybe it was the way the lights were strobing, the haze of the chattering college students lost in their own conversations; the smell of cheep booze and the familiar tinge of marijuana finding its way to your nose and leaving you with a twisted knot in your stomach, the effects of the own alcohol you previously consumed somehow contrasting itself by both numbing half your senses and heightening your other ones.
in the eyes of blackmore university, there was never a holiday too small nor an event too hyped to not celebrate in everyone’s own little way; a halloween party suited for what felt like a small village as you navigated the house packed of both familiar and unfamiliar faces, students laughing and socializing their way through their own buzzes.
not ethan.
clinging onto his roommates side, chad almost wanted to be annoyed by the way ethan couldn’t bare to branch himself off and meet new people but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so as a feeling often described as pity clouded his intoxicated senses.
“dude, we gotta get you a girlfriend.” chad joked (but not really), feet firmly planting on the ground next to the curly haired boy who leaned himself on the doorframe in front of the stairs; the two observing the party in their own little world.
chad wanted to meet new faces. ethan did not.
ethan rolled his eyes, clutching his red solo cup closer to him as a look contorted on his face that of annoyance and disgust before quickly letting his features fall flat and conjure a forced one, embarrassment.
“if it’s that much of a bother to you, you can go talk to some girls. ill just stay here.” he mumbled, looking like a child who just got rejected from buying a toy from their parent. deep down in the pits of his twisted heart he hoped chad would opt out of leaving, not wanting to appear like a loser as he stood alone and drank his embarrassment away.
“really? thanks bro, i was hoping to score some digits tonight.” chad smiled gratefully, already trying to turn away and leave the second ethan gave him his own sort of permission.
“what?! come on, dont leave me here by myself. i look stupid.” immediately ethan felt his heart drop of the idea being seen standing alone at a party, and no matter how much he had disdain to his so called ‘friends��, no matter how badly he wished nothing more than to see chads face as he plunged a knife sharp enough to cut through metal like cheese through his body; to see the life leaving his eyes and the wound oozing that beautiful crimson red color ethan couldn’t seem to get enough of, the last thing he wanted was to look awkwarder than he already was perceived to be.
“you just said i could go!” the dark-skinned boy argued, turning back around to face the taller brunette who gave him the most panicked look in return.
“yeah, cause i was hoping youd say no!”
“how does that make any sense?! if you didn’t want me to leave, just say that!”
ethans face turned into a bit of a pouting look as he silently pleaded for the martin boy to stay by his side.
“look, why don’t you just come with me? i don’t understand what you’re so freaked out about.” chad bargained with ethan who in turn immediately shook his head, planting his feet in the position they were in.
“nope, no way. girls are scary!” ethan spoke in a whiny tone, pausing for a moment before bringing his cup up to his lips and taking a swing of the hard hitting beverage, a stinging in his throat lasting for about a minute as he continued conversing with chad.
“and that’s exactly why you’ve never had a girlfriend.” the shorter boy witted back, causing ethans face to quickly form into what looked to be shock and hurt masking the actual feeling of anger he felt. joke or not, ethan was actually a very hot tempered boy who could get offended quite easily; not that anyone knew that.
the martin boy sighed and decided to rest a reassuring hand on the brown eyed boys shoulder, observing his face which was slightly shaded from the cardboard robot helmet he was wearing, probably another reason ethan was hardly getting any female attention. his costume.
“listen man, stand here and mope all you want, the whole part of a party is to meet people and have fun. i get your shy and you got that whole loner gimmick going on but i don’t want that to stop me from getting my chad on! ill be back here to meet up with you in an hour, maybe try meeting someone new, doesnt even have to be a girl at this point. just.. try, okay?”
chad offered ethan a sympathetic look which only made ethan cringe more before he removed his hand from his shoulder and took off to a group of dancing girls, smoothly sliding in and sparking up conversation almost immediately. how ethan envied that.
letting out an internal (and slightly external) groan, ethan brought his cup up to his lips once again and finished the rest of his drink, keeping his eyes trained on chad who was already talking and laughing with a group of students; entirely girls, that ethan shared a class with.
for almost a minute he didn’t move, suffering in silence and shooting a death glare at chad hidden under the dim lighting of the house. honestly? ethan couldn’t wait to kill him.
he felt isolated. watching everyone mingle and dance with their friends, lovers, and even strangers. he had no other solution than to to drink away his embarrassment, he thought, as he turned around to make his way to the kitchen where the alcohol was, taking one step forward and immediately running into someone shorter than him; their own drink splashing all over the both of them, wetting his cardboard chest piece and their outfit too.
“ah shit- fuck, im sorry about that, seriously.” he’s met with a small voice, not quiet but not extremely loud, gentle enough so that if you want to be able to hear it properly you’d have to tune the blasting music out and focus entirely on them.
jesus fucking christ, give me a break already! ethan thought to himself, annoyance brimming through his entire body as he glanced to the now darker and wet spots of his cardboard chestpiece before finally looking down and at the person who bumped into him, a girl.
“accidents happen, don’t worry about it.” he forced out, trying for the death of him not to want to reach out and strangle you right there; his face was met with an awkward half smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. despite his anger, he was able to take the time to notice that your face wasn’t half-bad to look at.
he continued to stare at you for a moment, waiting for you to say something, maybe to apologize again? to stumble out some stupid excuse? pathetically flirt? well, not that he’d really mind that last part if he was being honest. he liked the idea of having a girl liking him, but he was terrible at initiating anything.
“you all good? you’re not gonna malfunction on me or anything?” you joked, the both of you internally cringing just a bit at the awkwardness but it seemed to calm ethan from his current state of mind as he met you with furrowed eyebrows and a unsure smile.
“oh, the costume.” he spoke, mostly to himself, while scratching the back of his head. “think ill be good.”
you nod, the fainted tinge of pink lighting up your cheeks and ethan studies you for a moment longer.
“are you new? i haven’t seen you on campus before.” curiously, the brunette boy watches your face for a reaction, taking note of your every move while under his watch.
“sorta. i mean, if you consider three months to be new. i transferred here a while ago, it’s always been my dream to move to new york so once i saved up some money i chased my dreams.” you explain, and ethan nods, finally allowing a boyish smile to consume his features. for the most part it was forced, continuing to hold up his friendly image.
he doesn’t have to reply before you hop to the next subject, this time you’re asking the question.
“aren’t you chads roommate?”
“yeah, im ethan. ethan landry. nice to meet you..?” he holds his hand out for a handshake, trailing off the edge of his sentence as he waits for you to finish.
“(y/n). nice to meet you, ethan ethan.” you accept the short handshake, gently shaking hands and noticing the unreasonable strength and grip to his hold that didn’t seem the match the innocent, and dare you say weak look written all over his face while making a bad joke about his name from his introduction that still seems to score a smile from him; and ethan couldn’t help but notice the fact he didn’t have to force this one on his face. it came naturally.
“(y/n),” he repeated, as if trying your name out for himself. he smiled a little, that same shy nerdy facade written all over his face. “you got a last name?”
“does it matter?”
“i- guess not?” he looked a bit caught off guard but there was no actual hostility or mystery in your voice, just some sass. you were honestly entertaining.
“so why’re you standing here all alone?” you switch topics again, which ethan took note of. your mind seemed to wonder fast, moving from one thing to the next with no hesitation.
“ah, it’s kinda embarrassing.” the boy admitted, a small warm blush coating his pale complexion as he found himself not wanting to tell you the real reason why. wait- a blush? no, that couldn’t be right. he must just be feeling hot. all the alcohol was effecting him, or something. “i don’t really know a lot of people here, so i was just hanging out with chad till he left me to go talk to some girls.”
“ah, a typical chad move. literally and figuratively.” you nod, feeling yourself start to relax your body language more around the curly haired brunette the longer you were near him.
he chuckled, looking at you with those sweet chocolate brown eyes of his that gave you the most heartwarming feeling. “you’re kinda funny.” he tries to compliment, smiling now, a more natural grin than the ones he offered you originally. though it could be taken as a compliment or an insult, his tone genuinely sounded sincere, like he had no bad intentions. he was just an awkward guy who had no idea how to socialize or talk to the pretty girl in front of him pretty girls.
“i kinda thank you?” you respond, definitely confused on how to take in his comment.
he smiled awkwardly at you and seemed to look as if he was hiding his face as he glanced to the floor. “sorry,” he mumbled, and you felt your heart twinge as he resembled that of a hurt puppy.
“you’re good. i appreciate the sentiment.” reassuring him, he glanced back up at you with a crooked toothless smile, feeling his guard come down all around him. he had no idea why he was feeling this way, or why it felt so easy to talk to you.
there was a moment where silence fell between the two of you, staring deeply into your eyes he looked like he wanted to say something, an internal struggle of conflict in his mind while you simply watched in utter bliss and oblivion to the situation.
“i guess i should get going, i have to find my friend before they run off with some stranger they just met to hook up with. ill see you around though?” you offer him politely, and ethan felt a strange hollowness in his heart at the idea of you leaving him, but he pushed those feelings back and nodded anyway.
you’re about to turn around, start the search for your your friend in the mass of drunken college students, and you make it about five whole feet away before a voice calls your name. ethans voice.
“hey, (y/n)?” you turn around, meeting his eyes again. there’s something in them this time. it’s noticeable now as he locks eyes without you. something a bit sinister about the way he holds your gaze and his stance now looks like he’s taking over the whole room, confident but dark all the same.
“yeah?” you ask. you definitely notice the way his eyes have lost all emotion except one: danger. but this is ethan, ethans a nice boy. it must be the dim lighting and the short yet further distance between the two of you than it previously was.
“don’t get too close to me.” he warns you, and you feel a strange feeling crawl up your spine. the way he looks at you while he says it. the way his tone has completely voided from the sweet voice you were speaking to before and the aura all around him that now screams danger.
you don’t know what to do, unsure of what to say. maybe he was joking, maybe he was drunk, or maybe he really just didn’t want your companionship.
all you can do is awkwardly smile. “ill see you around, ethan.” and with that, you walk away from him, searching the packed house for your friend and forgetting about the short yet easy-going (up until the end) conversation you held with the landry boy.
and though you’ve pushed your interaction to the back of your head, ethans eyes never once leaves the back of yours.
𓂃 ࣪ ˖ 𖦹 a/n :: the most unrealistic part of scream vi is that ethans a virgin
started 08.04.23. finished 08.04.23.
(о´∀`о)
©️nolovelingers 2023
#𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ／ ⋆ ۪ NOLOVE FILEZ#fanfic#ethan#ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ghostface#scream#scream 6#scream six#scream vi#ghostface x reader#ethan kirsch#ethan kirsch x reader#x reader#scream franchise#first meeting#yandere#tara carpenter#samantha carpenter#chad meeks martin#mindy meeks martin#mindy x anika#dark!ethan landry#first fanfic#pls no hate#i tired guys#i haven’t written in so long#drinking
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🔥Firefighter! Yuuji🔥
(CW: Burning building, Reader has boobies and is called Miss once but is mostly referred to as they/them. Inspired by that one fanart, you know the one.)
Reader comes home to their crappy apartment from a long day of work, showers, makes themselves some easy dinner and gets all cozy on the living room couch with their cat.
They barely make it to the bedroom before they fall into the sheets, conked out for the night.
They're so deep in sleep they don't wake up from the faint smell of smoke or the sirens or the yelling. They don't even wake up when there's rushed knocking on the front door and yelling coming from the other side.
However they do jolt awake when they hear the front door being forced open with a loud bang!
In a haze they still manage to reach under the bed for a metal bat they stashed there for occasions just like this.
They creep out the bedroom, bat in hand ready to swing. "Hello? Is anybody in here?" A man's voice calls from the living room.
They mentally scoff. What kind of burglar calls out like that? Idiot.
They can hear the heavy footsteps of the man walking closer towards the hallway they crept in. Holding the bat tighter, they wind up and just as a quite large man comes around the corner they swing hard.
"OW!"
The bat hits a hard surface. Confused they finally take in the man Infront of them. He's wearing a hard yellow helmet (the thing they hit, they realise) and a thick black and yellow jumpsuit thing. It kinda looks like a fireman get-up and Holy shit, they assaulted a fireman.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I thought you were a burglar!"
They drop the assault weapon and crouch down, assessing the helmet thats not even dented.
"That's ok, it's alright, I'm fine! see?" The fireman tries to reassure them. Now that they have a better look at him he has an unreasonably bright smile on his face for someone who's just been assaulted. His bright smile contrasts with the few scars he has on his face in a way that's strangely endearing.
They feel themselves smiling back and sighing "Oh that's good, I'm sorry again haha..... Why are you in my home?"
The fireman jolts up like he's just remembered something important. "Oh shit! The buildings on fire!"
"WHAT?!“
"Don't panic, Miss. I'm going to get you out of here." He says with a determined look that makes them believe his words.
That's all he says before hoisting them up bridle style into his strong arms. Reader yelps. "I'm not injured. I can walk." They say, struggling in the strangers arms out of instinct.
"The building's floors and ceilings might be unstable. Sorry, but it's safer if I carry you." The full seriousness of the situation dawns on them and they just nod at the man as he steps towards the door. "Wait! Wait! My cat!" They suddenly remember the creature they parent and struggled out of the man's hold running into their bedroom where the little guy is lazing on the bed, not a single care in the world. They scoop the cat up and run back to the fireman who is scoping out the hallway and talking on his little walky talky. They waist no time, allowing the well built man to pick them up as easily as they picked up the cat in their arms.
He successfully makes it down the few flights of stairs, cautious yet quick. "Cover your mouth! We're almost there!" The man says. They cover their mouth and nose with one hand and cover the kittie's with the other. Eyes shut tight, hiding their face into the man's neck. They don't open their eyes even when they feel a wave of cool night air telling them that they're outside the building and safe.
The fireman carries them to one of the ambulances and sets them down gently. "You alright?" He says crouching In front of them and looking them up and down, breathing a little heavy. They nod wordlessly, looking into his bright eyes.
Once he's satisfied that they're unharmed he stands and says, "I have to go." He points to the firetrucks stationed outside the burning building. The reader just nods again and mutters "Thanks." The man smiles at them again as if nothing is wrong and everything is going perfectly, it makes them believe he's right. He jogs over to where the other firemen are talking amongst themselves.
They get a better look at the building now. The powerfull jets of water flowing in through the windows. The other residents of the building watching in various states of panic, relief, silence, fear. Luckily, when Reader looks around for neighbours and familiar faces all seem to be accounted for. The firemen seem to have done a really good job minimizing casualties and destruction.
After about an hour the fire is in dieing smolders and the building no longer emits a furious heat, only ashy smoke. Reader is sitting on a bench, cat in their lap with an emergency blanket and a free cookie the ambulance responders were handing out.
They don't notice the tall figure walking up to them until he's standing beside them. "Hi, how're we doing?". They look up to see the same firefighter from before. "Pretty good....considering." They shrug. He huffs and sits down next to them. "Well, good news is nobody died and your apartment's probably fine too."
"Oh that's good." They say and cringe at their weak conversational skills. He's just talking to them cus it's something that firefighters do with citizens in these situations... Right?
They look over at him as he looks at the doused, chard part of the building. "Uhm, is your head alright?" They ask the man, pointing to his helmet covered head.
He looks at them confused and then laughs. "Oh yeah it's totally good, see." He pulls off his head gear revealing a head of short pink hair. He tussles it with his hand and bends down showing them that there's no bump or bruise.
Before they can think not too, Reader reaches out to lightly caress the strands of hair at the top of his head. He freezes, his eyes wide still looking down, bent over for them. They quickly bring their hand back to the cat on their lap. "I like your hair." They say looking down at the kitty. Yuuji looks up at them with still wide eyes and straightens his back. His cheeks tint pinker than his hair and Reader chuckles at the sight.
"Thanks... I like your..." He's clearly rushing for something to say, not expecting the conversation to go this route. "Shirt." He settles on. His eyes flick down to the baggy old shirt with some anime character on it that they use for pajamas.
A well timed breeze blows through and Reader is suddenly reminded of the fact that they sleep without a bra on.
They tug the blanket closer and mutter "Thanks". Yuuji just continues to look at them with the same pink tinted face.
"Brother!" A loud voice calls and the two turn to see a big burly man calling his coworker over. They look back at each other and both grin at one another. "Uh, I'll see you around?" The pink haired man says while playing with his hair and picking up his helmet. "Yeah, I hope so." Reader waves slightly at him. He walks away still looking back at them and waving until he reaches the man who was calling him "brother". The man roughly pats him on the back and throws his arm around his shoulder. Mr Pink hair looks disgruntled as The big guy yells out to another black haired, serious looking fireman. "Did you see that Megumi? Yuuji thinks he's a Hot Shot now!"
Megumi just sighs and rolls his eyes. "Please get back to work, Todo." Yuuji struggles in Todo's hold, looking back at Reader for a second to see them still looking at him. They turn around quickly, embarrassed at being caught. Yuuji smiles and Todo, having seen that too, cries out "Brotherrrr!" hugging Yuuji tighter, brought to tears at his brother's perceived rizz.
Reader looks down at the cat in their lap and says softly "His name is Yuuji." They grin at the cat and the cat looks back with a sleepy, disinterested expression.
-★
#running straight into a burning building so firefighter Yuuji can princess carry me out of that bitch#couldn't stop thinking about firefighters for some reason and then i remembered that one fanart™#the ending is soooo cheesy but whatever ITS CUTE!#yuuji x reader#jjk x reader#itadori x reader#jjk#jjk yuuji#yuuji headcanons#itadori yuuji
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Hi, i hope your having a great day so can you write something like movie scene you know there is a pool scene between noah and nick can you write this between reader and nick maybe a little bit of smut.
I really enjoy reading your one shots with nick you are the only nich writer no one else wirte nick one shot love ya🥰
ㅤㅤ♡⃕ ﹙closer, nick leister.﹚
A/N It's been a while since I last wrote for Nick. I hope I haven't lost practice, aaa.
PAIRING Nick Leister x Fem!Reader
TW/TAGS Established relationship, smut, suggestive content, MDNI, 18+, fingering, praise kink.
SUMMARY It's the hottest day of the year, so you and Nick go in the pool, but the heat takes over both of you, leading you to warm up in another way.
NICK'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
It was the hottest day of the year and you were both in his room.
He was lying in a starfish position on his bed and you were sitting in an armchair that he had in his room.
He was shirtless while you were wearing shorts and a sleeveless top.
"What if we go in the pool?" he offered and you mentally hit yourself for not having thought of that option before.
"Please," you almost jumped out of the chair to get up although you complained as soon as the fake leather of the chair stuck to your skin from the sweat that your legs had shed. "shit."
He laughed getting out of bed and walking to the door, he opened it and stepped aside for you to come through.
"Ladies first," he bowed and you laughed at his antics, bowing back, walking out of his room with him following you. "Whoever gets there first chooses the food." he said and started running down the stairs.
"Wait what? Hey cheater!" you started running after him while the two of you laughed.
"Watch out kids!" exclaimed one of the women who works for the Leister family.
"As kids they no longer have anything."
And when you were about to arrive, Nick arrived first and jumped into the pool, drenching your clothes with splashing water.
"Nicholas!" you exclaimed indignantly and moved closer to the edge, dropping to your knees in front of him as he surfaced. "does cheating have fun?"
"A bit." He sentenced and took you by the hand, pulling it to submerge you in the water next to him.
You swam to the surface and took a deep breath already outside.
"I don't know how to swim!" you exclaimed pretending to drown and he quickly swam towards you to take you in his arms.
You laughed out loud looking at him.
"You always fall." you said and left him confused but he immediately understood.
"Fuck off." He laughed letting you go, you knew perfectly well how to swim but whenever the two of you were in a pool you made a joke of not knowing how to swim and he always fell.
You submerged again to be able to accommodate your hair and enjoy the cool water on your face warmed by the sun.
"It's delicious." you murmured with your eyes closed, running your hands through your hair, feeling the contrast of the sun on your skin and the cold water.
When you opened them you saw that Nick was looking at you with a sweet smile. You swam back to him and he immediately welcomed you into his arms, pulling you closer to him.
You put your arms over his shoulders, caressing his tanned skin, running your hand through his wet hair.
He caressed your cheek and smiled even more as soon as he saw and felt you lean into his touch.
He leaned his face towards yours and his lips caught yours in a slow but passionate kiss.
His grip was firm on your legs, moving up to your thighs while his body was glued to yours, imprisoning you between the wall of the pool.
His lips moved skillfully over yours, your hand gently tugged at his hair. That was enough for one of his hands to go to one of your ass cheeks and squeeze it.
You felt his cock harden on your lower abdomen and your hand that wasn't in his hair went down to his crotch to caress him over his shorts.
He growled low on your lips and broke away from them to breathe.
You brushed your nose against his in a small show of affection, making him smile.
Your lips went to his ear to murmur the words that would make him lose what little self-control he had left.
"I need you right now."
You left a quick kiss behind his ear, then looked back at him. He attacked your lips again, positioning his hand on your neck without pressing, yet.
His tongue found its way into your mouth and it searched for yours, colliding with each other.
You felt his hand work its way between your legs as his body moved slightly away from you.
He pushed aside the cloth that covered your cunt, teasing between your lips.
A moan left your lips and he kissed you again to silence any sound you might make, since the two of you weren't alone.
"Remember to be quiet doll, you don't want anyone else to know how much you enjoy that I fuck you, do you?"
And after that he kissed you again, and you dug your nails into his shoulders when you felt his fingers move skillfully and quickly on your clit.
"F-fuck—" you gasped softly biting your lip and closing your eyes.
He watched every reaction he stole from you with his every action. Getting turned on with the sight of you enjoying how it made you feel.
After a few seconds, he introduced two of his fingers into your pussy, making you bite your lip hard to keep from moaning.
He began to move them at a steady, fast pace, or at least as fast as the water would allow him.
"You're making me feel so damn good." you gasped closing your eyes.
He brought his lips to your neck to leave wet kisses and marks.
Although his arm was beginning to get tired, he did not slow down the pace with which he penetrated you with his fingers.
You tightened your walls around his fingers as you felt the knot of pleasure in your abdomen.
"You look so fucking gorgeous like this." he murmured and smiled when he felt how you tightened around his fingers again.
He turned his attention back to the little button of nerves that would take you over the edge and you scratched at his back to hold on to something as the orgasm hit you like a truck.
You covered your own mouth with your hand to keep from screaming and your eyes were squeezed shut.
Your chest rose and fell with your erratic breathing. He kissed your cheek, forehead, nose and lips lovingly, moving his hand away from your center after adjusting the lower part of your clothes.
"I love you." you murmured smiling, hugging him and he smiled leaving a peck on your lips.
"I'm not done with you." He declared lifting you by the waist to sit on the edge of the pool, making you giggle knowing that he could handle you with his strength like a rag doll.
He got out of the pool and helped you up to walk back into his room.
disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2023.
#val's version#nick leister#nick leister imagines#nick leister imagine#nick leister smut#nick leister x reader#nick leister x y/n#nicholas leister#nicholas leister fanfic#nicholas leister imagine#nicholas leister smut#nicholas leister x reader#nicholas leister x y/n#nicholas leister imagines#culpa mia fanfic#culpa mia#my fault movie#my fault fanfic#my fault#culpa mia movie#evermoresversion
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imagine (a world like that) — yang jeongin.
trope. exes to not so lovers. bittersweet ending. a story of first loves. jeongin is an idol here.
synopsis. a trip back to busan on his break reunites jeongin with his first and only love — and it has him wondering, if one thing had been different, would everything be different today?
word count. 3k words
warnings. none, just on the angsty bittersweet side
note. been wanting to write a first love reunion fic for a while (the 1 cameo and a line inspired from everything everywhere all at once). thank u to yun for instigating my terrible thoughts my 4lyfer and to ten for the Beautiful header ur massive big brain talent
Yang Jeongin stands on the train platform, cheeks colored red from the gust of the winter wind that greets him at the station.
He pulls his scarf closer to his nose.
When he decided to travel home by train, he didn’t anticipate it would take three and a half hours to arrive. On normal days, the travel towards Busan from Seoul usually ranged from 2-3 hours, but it took longer than usual due to the snow.
Jeongin doesn’t spend a long time in the station, opting to blend in with the chatter of people around him as he swiftly makes his way to the streets of Sujeong-dong. It’s still snowing, but he doesn’t seem to mind the snowflakes littering his hair and eyelashes.
Instead, he looks up at the sky, trying to see where the snowfall is coming from.
It rarely snows in Busan as it’s located in the least snowy region of Korea, but Jeongin is grateful for the gentle drizzle of white and the cold that’s just enough to leave visible puffs of warm breath when he sighs.
In his pocket, his phone is buzzing with the screen flashing a picture of Chan, probably to ask if he arrived home safely as he hasn’t had the time to send a quick text to their group chat.
Pulling a glove off, he slips his hand in the pocket of his coat, swiping right on the phone call. And it seems his hypothesis is correct when concerned spews bounce off of his phone’s speakers, Chan speaking at an unusually fast pace you’d be convinced he was the main and lead rapper.
He smiles fondly at the obvious care dripping from Chan’s tone, immediately informing the eldest member he had arrived well and intact (with a little teasing) before hanging up the call shortly after.
Jeongin moves through his hometown slower than usual in contrast to his busy, bumbling schedule the past year. He concedes to time, grateful to just be able to slow down for a second and appreciate the gentle snow and the cold breeze without shifting his attention every second.
Knowing his family would arrive home a little later in the day, Jeongin doesn’t feel the pressure to reach a destination right away. Instead, he lets his feet and mind wander to where they felt like going.
He should’ve known himself better to not be surprised at where he’s landed himself in.
On a different day, a few years back, Jeongin could still remember the feeling of a hand gently intertwined with his and the sound of starry laughter on the exact same path.
The memory leaves a foreign feeling in his chest.
Walking up the stairs to occupy a seat on the second floor of the traditional teahouse, Jeongin feels a gust of wind knock straight into his sternum at the sight that greets him. He isn’t to blame. This is the first time he’s seeing you after your teary goodbye’s a few autumns ago, and you seem just as surprised to see him.
He still remembers you as you were when you ended things. Your eyes were strong, but grief persevered in your irises as you told him you understood. Besides, you had been there to hold his hand through every audition, and you knew more than anyone how much he wanted it and how hard he worked towards achieving it.
So, you learned to trade your love for his dreams.
That day, as leaves fell from the trees, so did both of your hearts.
“Jeongin?” Your lips pull into a short smile, although it grows wider the moment you’re able to discern that this moment was real and Yang Jeongin was actually standing a few feet away from you. You could recognize those eyes anywhere.
“Hi.” He remains unmoving as he drinks you in, everything about you down to your movements. Your hair’s a little shorter now, and you preferred a different shade of lipstick.
All he can think about at this moment is how you look so pretty smiling, and how your lips must be so cold from the winter.
“Your hair’s black again. It’s nice.”
His hair is back to its original color, after dyeing it multiple times for comebacks and events, and it falls just above his eyes (with some strands moving past). It’s longer, and he can’t find himself to dwell on your compliment at the thought that you knew his hair wasn’t black before he came home.
A small, shy laugh leaves his lips as he scratches the back of his head. “Figured it needs a little rest before the company decides to dye it again.”
You mirror his laughter — that same starry sound that held light whenever you laughed, the same one Jeongin fell in love with.
You find it humorous how most of your conversations in this teahouse had held frustrations over your highschool, but now he was talking about his company and his hair he never thought to dye years ago.
“Would you like to sit with me?” You’re looking at him with your thoughtful eyes as you gesture the space across from you. On normal simpler days, he would’ve simply made his way towards the seat next to yours — but now you’re considerate enough to ask if he was even allowed to be sitting with you. That maybe you’d be caught and his image would be ruined.
Jeongin’s rushed to decide whether to pass on your offer or pull you back into his life (even if it was just for a few minutes). He finds it isn’t much of a difficult decision as he makes his way to your table, sitting comfortably by the window. He plants himself on the same ground that had given him so many treasured memories with you and that had taught him of hard lessons when he had to let you go.
Jeongin scolds himself for allowing himself to fall right back into you, not that his feelings had ever left. The bitter taste of heartbreak has always sat at the back of his throat, but it has always been easy to hide behind his busy schedules.
Under the guise of time, he convinces himself he’s moved on. Besides, it’s been years since you both said goodbye.
Time is cruel, and it is also one of the biggest liars.
“How have you been?”
You’re well aware it’d only take a five second search to find out what he’s been doing and what his group was up to, but you were genuinely curious to know how he’s feeling about everything.
It’s not like life teaches you to handle fame and pressure at such a young age paired with the peering and judging eyes of strangers who seem to want you more than anyone before.
People were never meant to grow up in such a cruel manner.
Your question snaps him out of his self-pity, but the genuineness in how you ask him has his heart twisting in the most painful way possible. He doesn’t know if the feeling is of love or of grief.
Jeongin doesn’t know how to respond either. He feels the crack in his facade widen, and all he wants is to run in your arms and cry and tell you how difficult it’s been and how horrible it is to forget how your hug feels like.
Instead, he settles with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He doesn’t think he has the right to hold you without your permission anymore.
“I’ve been good.”
His response is genuine. He couldn’t possibly wish for anything else — he was grateful for the opportunity to chase his dreams, for the 7 boys he crafted a family with, for the genuine love and support from so many people all around the world.
When he thinks back at the years, he feels eternally grateful, despite the exhaustion. It just sucked that the universe didn’t have a place for you in all that.
You push him to tell more stories, especially of his world tour, and he tells you how much more humid it is in the United States, or how lovely it is to walk around Japan, or how big the serving size of food is in Europe. He tells you of blue skies and loud screams and how fun it is to perform on stage.
What he doesn’t tell you is how much you would’ve loved to experience all that too. How much more fun it would’ve been if you were by his side.
He doesn’t allow himself to dwell on the thought too much. God knows how many nights he’s spent alone with the same questions of what if’s.
“And you? How have you been?”
“I’ve been good too. College feels a little repetitive, but somehow I’m grateful for that.” You hum, sipping at your tea before settling it back down neatly on the table.
An indefinable look flashes on Jeongin’s face when you mention college.
Within seconds, he looks everywhere in the room but you as he nods his head. He doesn’t tell you he doesn’t want to meet your eyes for the fear of seeing the life that could’ve been with you if he hadn’t forgone with his dream.
“You know… I’m so proud of you, Jeongin. I never had the chance to tell you before, but I’m so so proud. You’re so big now, I can’t even hug you anymore.”
His name sounds different falling from your mouth because it holds so much history.
I.N. is two letters he goes by now, but to you, he was still Yang Jeongin — the kid you grew up with, and the boy you end up falling in love with down the line. He wasn’t just a noun that followed a group’s name. He was much more than that.
He was your Yang Jeongin, the boy who defended you from towering bullies, the boy who hugged you as you cried on his shoulder, the boy who held your hand when you were afraid.
And maybe that, paired with the statement of you being proud, is the reason why his lungs twist and his eyes water a little. You’re tempted to reach out for his hand that’s resting on the table, but opt out of it.
“Greatness and success has always been waiting for you, and I’m so happy to see you’ve finally met it.”
There is nothing but truth behind your words. So many restless nights have led him to this moment, and you couldn’t be more happy. You’ve always known on the invisible string that tied Jeongin to success.
“I just wish you’d been there to meet it with me.”
His voice is just above a whisper as he stares down at his lap. You had always played a big role in his self-confidence. When he came to you in the form of a flightless bird, you taught him how to spread his wings so wide that he could finally fly.
“I’ve always been with you. Maybe not in the way you want, but I’ve always been there.” You break a smile, leaning forward against your will to finally tap his hand gently. “And I will always be there.”
His lips twitch, and he moves closer, craving for more of your touch — the touch he’s missed, the one his memory has so carelessly forgotten. You know by the way he stares at your hands that he got the message.
You both don’t say much after that. You simply enjoy your tea with each other’s presence, looking out at the pretty view from the window.
And this moment makes Jeongin so happy. Something as ordinary as sipping tea in the quiet with someone he’s fond of. Something as ordinary as the gentle snowfall in Busan, and the pretty view of the sun slowly starting to set beneath the mountains.
It’s new. But he likes the quiet, and he likes the peace, and he likes being home and having you as company.
He allows himself the time to recollect the moments he had with you in the same stout table with the same pillows on the wooden ground. It’s funny, looking back now, how the sound of your voice and the look in your eyes are no longer the ones with child-like wonder in them, but that of two people who had made it far down the line.
Jeongin’s trip back to Seoul in a few days will strip him of the chance to do ordinary things like this with you again, and the coming months and years will be one of loneliness again — despite being around people who loved him.
A part of him wishes you hadn’t asked him to sit down with him. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to relive the grief. He wouldn’t be left to wonder if your lips feel the same as a few autumn’s ago?
He doesn’t want this moment to feel like a distant memory in the years to come too. Will he forget the feeling of your hand gently tapping on his again?
“It was nice seeing you again, Jeongin.”
He lets his gaze drift back to your face, and in your transparent eyes, he sees the same grief persevering. “You’re leaving already?”
“I have classes tomorrow. I’m sorry.”
If you didn’t know him so much, you wouldn’t have noticed the way his eyes fall a little and how his smile grows a little stiff at the mention of you leaving.
You make your way to where he’s seated, and you ask if it’s okay to hug him, and he responds by gathering you in his arms like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it again (because he knows it will be… at least for a long time).
He hugs you with the prospect of memorizing the feeling of your arms around his body and your fingers rubbing gentle circles on his back and your face that fits so perfectly on his neck. There’s a pained look on his face that wants to solicit tears but he doesn’t allow himself to.
He doesn’t want your last memory of him to be teary-eyes.
Jeongin pulls you in his lap and leans back against the window, burying his face deep in your hair and hoping his memory won’t betray him this time.
His back is pressed against the glass, and if anyone were to walk by right now, they’d see him and your silhouette bunched up in his arms but he doesn’t seem to care about any of that right now.
All he cares about is your warmth and how close you are to him right now.
When you move to pull back, he whispers “one more second” as he grabs you back by the arm and presses you against his chest one more time.
His throat itches to tell you he loves you, but doesn’t think he can bear the response he’ll hear from you — whether it was an ‘I love you’ back or not. Especially when he’s leaving again and living an entirely different life than what could’ve been.
In the background, he can make out the high-pitched whistle of the kettle making tea, and the footsteps of customers flooding the teahouse. But all he can focus on is your heartbeat flush against his.
If he closes his eyes, Jeongin can picture himself with his gray hoodie you love so much, and his messenger bag from high school — walking you back and forth to your classes. Maybe he’ll join a sports team in your college, maybe he’d be in the dance program. He can picture himself kissing you again and again so freely, and hugging you just like this.
On his side of the world is life filled with so much opportunity, and everyday is loud like fireworks and extravagant and he could get whatever he could’ve ever wanted, but he finds himself wanting to stay a little longer in your side — where it’s quiet, where he can do the ordinary, where he’s just Jeongin.
When you finally let go from your hug, there’s a stifling silence as you walk to where the stairs are. But before you can make it far, Jeongin’s voice cuts through the winter breeze.
“(Name)?”
“Hm?” You look back one more time.
He breathes in and out.
“In another life, I would’ve really liked going to college with you, just holding your hand and… doing ordinary things.” He confesses quietly, but no matter how soft and vulnerable and shaky his voice is, you can still hear him.
You smile at him, albeit bittersweet.
“I would’ve really liked that too.”
You hope you were able to tell him everything that you needed to, and he hopes you can see in his eyes that he still cares for you deeply, and he will always care for you this much.
There is a sharp feeling in his chest when you finally descend from the steps, and a cry is brewing at his throat waiting to erupt when you’re no longer able to hear him. There is only so much he can do when you’re walking out of his life again.
It has always been his fate to go after his dreams, and it has always been in your fate to let him go.
The teahouse gives him another hard lesson. Perhaps his grief and love was always meant to coexist. That Jeongin can love his life right now, but still grieve over the life he didn’t get to live with the people who are no longer traveling beside him. Maybe it was always meant to be like this.
But he knows, from the way you looked at him for the last time, that there will always be a place in the world that’s waiting for him — not Stray Kids I.N., but just Yang Jeongin. That even when he falls in exhaustion and is stripped off of everything that’s shaped him to be desired by the public, he would still be loved and wanted.
Someone from home will always be waiting for him.
Your distance grows, and all Jeongin can do is stare at you long enough so he can brand you in his memory.
He begs the universe to be a little kinder to the both of you in your next life.
#k-labels#stray kids x reader#jeongin x reader#yang jeongin x reader#stray kids angst#yang jeongin angst#jeongin angst#jeongin x you#jeongin x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids fic#stray kids imagines#stray kids oneshot#stray kids jeongin#yang jeongin#skz jeongin#skz imagines#skz scenarios#i.n.#in x reader#i.n. x reader#jeongin fanfic
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afterglow
Series Warnings: Language, alcohol and drinking. Military inaccuracies. Allusions to and smut. Friends to lovers. Mutual pining. Unrequited love. Minors DNI. 18+. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger
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Chapter 2: Who Burned Us Down
There were exactly three defining things that you knew about your relationship with Jake Seresin.
One, you two were one of—no—the best pilot and WSO team that the Navy had seen.
Two, Jake knew every little thing that made you tick. He'd been able to play your body like a fiddle ever since the first time the two of you slept together in Lemoore.
Three, you couldn't keep doing this with him. It was wrong on so many levels, but it felt so right.
"Jake, inside, now." You panted out before disconnecting your lips from his. He nodded wordlessly before climbing out of your car and following you inside. You slipped out of your wet clothes and left them in a pile by the door before ascending the steps to your bedroom without a thing on.
Jake stood there in the doorway, watching your naked form glide up the staircase. Halfway up, you turned and looked at him over your shoulder. "Well, are you coming or not, Jacob?" You asked him before continuing your climb. He'd never striped so fast in his life.
You laid down on your bed. The crisp white linens enveloped you as you propped up against the pillows and waited for him. A wicked thought crossed your mind.
You could hear Jake bounding up the stairs, and when he burst through your bedroom door, he was met with a sight that had his breath catching in his throat and him fumbling over his words.
"What's the matter, Jakey? Cat got your tongue?" You asked him innocently. But there was nothing innocent about the sight before him. Your sun-kissed skin standing out in stark contrast to the white duvet that covers your bed, your legs splayed open wide, and the sight of your absolutely dripping center had his head spinning.
"What are you waiting for, Jake?" You goaded him.
Truthfully, he didn't know what he was waiting for. This was a dance the two of you had done many, many times. Each one better than the last. If this truly was his last time with you, which you both knew it wouldn't be, he wanted to make it count.
"What? Can't I admire the most beautiful girl for a few minutes?" Jake says.
"You've already got me naked, Jake. You don't have to try so hard." You shoot back. Jake shakes his head before coming to stand at the foot of your bed.
You look up and him with expecting eyes. He cocks his head to the side trying to decide his next move. Then, Jake grabs both of your ankles and slides you to the edge of the bed like you weight nothing.
He sinks to his knees and loops his strong forearms under each of your thighs.
You meet his eyes, and he sends you a wink before licking a broad stripe from your weeping slit to your throbbing clit.
He wraps his plush lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucks on it before swirling hid tongue around it. It's something that he knows will drive you crazy, and it does.
He repeats the action a few times, and you're bucking up off the mattress trying to grind your core against his face.
One hand clutches the sheets while the other threads through his hair, holding him exactly where you want him.
But you didn't have to hold him there, truthfully, there is no place Jake would rather be than on his knees for you. Licking, sucking, swirling, and tasting you.
He could spend hours like this, drawing out those sinful cries from your pretty mouth, and drinking the sweet nectar that you give him.
Jake buried his face deeper into your core, fucking his tongue into you and shaking his head, causing his nose to bump over your sensitive clit over and over again.
"Jake." You gasp out. "More, please, more." You already sound desperate, and he loves it.
He pulls back and laps at your clit before giving it a harsh tug with his teeth, then laves it over with his tongue.
He uses two fingers to split your lips open for him before spitting on your center and sinking his middle and ring finger into you.
Jake curls them upwards, just how he knows you like it, to find your gspot and massages it over and over again.
His thick digits work in tandem with his mouth, drawing your closer to the edge. Your body feels like it's on fire with the heat of a thousand suns and the cool metal of his Navl Academy searing against you with each stroke of his hand only adds to the overwhelming sensation.
Jake knew that you were close. He knew your body better than any flight plan he'd ever flown. He knew all the signs, the hitch in your breath, the way your nails dug into his skull, the way your walls fluttered around him.
"Can feel how close you are, darlin," Jake drawled out.
"Look at me. I wanna watch you fall apart for me." Jake commanded.
You groaned, and you forced your eyes open. You looked down to meet his. His pupils were blown wide, only a thing ring of emerald green visible around them.
"You always have to show off? Don't you." You gasped as you held eye contact. "Such a fucking exhibitionist." You panted out.
"What can I say? When you're good, you want to show off." He shot back.
"Now cum for me." He told you, and cum for him you did. You arched your back off the mattress and came hard again his face and hands, calling how his name like a prayer.
When he was sure you were sated, Jake climbed on top of you and kissed you breathless. You could taste yourself on him, but you didn't mind.
He lined up the far head of his cock with your slick entrance. He slipped into you with ease and guided your legs over his shoulders as he drove into you with hard, steady, purposeful strokes.
One thing that Jake loved about you was how easy he could get you to cum for him a second time after he got you off once. You were like putty in his hands, and he could mold you how he saw fit.
You were so far gone in your pleasure, you could barely register his praises of how good you felt, how pretty you looked beneath him, how he felt like you were made for him, and how you were such a good girl fir him.
You were so keen on his words. They made you feel special, cared for, loved.
But you knew he would never say that last one aloud.
All too soon, your second high washed over you. Jake fucked you through it, until you were in the blissful afterglow. But you were vaguely aware that Jake hadn't finished.
He stilled his hips and met your eyes.
"You've got one more still in there for me. Don't you, sweetheart?" Jake asked as you came down from your high. He was still rock-hard inside you.
You basked in the post orgasm haze and nodded your head furiously. You'd give Jake anything he wanted when you were like this.
Smiling at you, he rolled his hips into you again, driving into you with purpose, determined to pull a third orgasm from you.
Your breath came out in needy pants, and the only words you could form were broken cries of his name. He looked down to watch how your face twisted in pleasure.
You looked so beautiful beneath him, your hair fanned out across the pillow, your whole body flushed with heat and need. Your skin was glowing from the light sheen of sweat that covered both of you. Your lips were pink and swollen from his kisses, your eyes glazed over with desire, and you wore the most beautiful, blissful smile on your face.
The longer he looked at you, the more Jake could see it. A future with you, a life with you outside of the four walls of your bedroom. He could see the two of you growing old together with kids and a dog, the whole nine yards.
The more he stared into your eyes, the more he wanted to say it. That four letter word was dancing on the tip of his tongue and threatened to come out.
But he couldn't. He couldn't say it, and he couldn't keep looking at you like this. He couldn't watch you look at him like he hung the moon and stars. So, Jake abruptly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach. He manhandled you onto your knees, pushing your head down and ass up for him.
One hand gripped your hips tightly as the other held firm at the base of your neck. Jake pounded into you ruthlessly as he tried to drive those thoughts out of his head.
You clenched around him, cumming for a third time. Jake groaned as he emptied into you and collapsed on the bed. He paused only for a few minutes to catch his breath before he began his well versed getaway routine.
He had just swung his legs over the side of the bed to get up when you spoke.
You weren't sure what possessed you to say it, but as you floated in that space between euphoria and sanity, the words tumbled out of your mouth. "What if you stayed?"
Jake paused and looked at you once again. It was a mistake, and he knew it. Seeing you like this, in the afterglow of the incredible sex the two of you had just had, made him weak.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he answered you. "Okay, I'll stay." He told you before curling up next to you.
You cupped his face in your hands and kissed his nose. "Thank you." You whispered.
You laid your head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart as he drew lazy shapes on your back. Your eyes felt heavy as you came down from your time with Jake. Soon, sleep overcame you.
Jake laid there, looking at the ceiling, listening to the sound of your breathing. He took in your sleeping form and admired your beauty. You were so fucking perfect that it hurt. You deserved the world. You deserved so much better than him.
As you continued to sleep peacefully in the dark, Jake let the thing he was most afraid to say in the light of day come out. "I love you, Glow. I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered before slipping out of your bed and leaving, just like every "last time" before.
Taglist: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @desert-fern @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @lovinglyeternal @lovingbradshawafterdark @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @ohgodnotagainn @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @potato-girl99981 @djs8891 @roosterbruiser @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @roostette @rosiahills22 @dempy @olliepig @seresinsweetie
#cherrycola27#top gun maverick#top gun#tgm#lt. jake seresin#jake seresin smut#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin#hangman top gun#top gun hangman#hangman smut#jake hangman fic#tgm fanfiction#tgm fic#tgm smut#afterglow
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Secrets Above the Stairs
->Pairing: Childhood Bestfriend!Reader x Rafe
->Summary: Rafe comes to you distraught with a confession after helping his dad commit a crime.
->Warnings/Tags: Vulnerable!Rafe, mentions of doing coke lol, angst
->A/n: This is incredibly short, but I loved writing it. I am such a whore for comforting the vulnerable. Anyway, this takes place during Season 2, episode 2 when Ward kills Gavin bc he's blackmailing him and then comes home and asks for Rafe's help to get rid of the body.
First time sharing my writing, pls be nice <;3.
Your eyes burn at the bright light in contrast to the dark room that you had previously been asleep in. Your phone is dinging with messages that you figure you’ll ignore and read in the morning, until the obnoxious ringer goes off indicating you’re getting a phone call.
‘My fucking god.
You snatch the phone into your hand and squint your eyes enough so you can see the answer button without bothering to look at who was calling. Your eyelids scratch against your eyes like sandpaper, and you can’t fight the heaviness weighing them down.
You try to say something into the phone but all that comes out is a gravelly murmur.
“Can I-,” There’s a short sniffle, “Can I come up to your room?” His octave is low and soft, if he was anyone else you would have second guessed who was calling.
Rafe’s distraught voice pumped adrenaline into your body, forcing you to sit up in bed.
“Are you okay?”
“I just- I need to come up. You’re home, yeah?”
“Yeah, I’m coming.” Grabbing pants wasn’t of importance to you at the moment, mostly because you didn’t want to dig around your drawers to find something and waste more time. You were just glad tonight was one of the nights you decided to wear an oversized t-shirt to bed.
You hurry down the stairs, using your phone screen as a flashlight to find the steps and illuminate the space between the halls and door. The metal handle is just as cold as the tiles on the floor, and as goosebumps raise all over your body, you're desperate to get him to your room so you can jump back into your warm covers.
Your selfish desire ceases the second you open the door. Rafe Cameron, the usual cocky but otherwise unemotional boy you were once bonded with, is at your doorstep with wet cheeks and a heavy expression that left you with about a hundred thoughts running through your mind of what could have happened. You pull the door further open, and he walks in past you. The moonlight disappears as you close the entrance, leaving you in pitch black. You wait to ask any questions till you’ve made it to your bedroom.
“This w—” You started to whisper.
“I remember where it is.”
You momentarily forget that this used to be a second home to him. He knows how many steps lead up to your second floor, and which dishes are in which cabinet. He knows that you wear little to nothing at nighttime because your room is hotter than the rest of the house, he knows which part of the couch you prefer to lay on, and most of all, he knows you’re the only one aware of the kind of person his dad is.
You get to the top of the stairs and after a few more steps and turns, you push your door open and close it behind him. After turning on your lamp, your stomach sinks at the sight of your former best friends' dazed expression and nervous fidgeting. You barely manage to suppress the urge to wrap your arms around him, instead you wrap them around yourself and sit down on the edge of the bed.
“What’s going on?”
“I haven’t been in here since freshmen year of high school.” He says flatly, looking around the dimly lit room. The rays of orange from your lamp display across the walls and furniture.
He sounds distant when he speaks, and your arms tighten around your torso. Rafe Cameron was not one to be fazed. At least not the one you knew. Not your Rafe. You heard about his short temper and drug habits only after the two of you had stopped hanging out. You saw him at a party last summer with a rolled-up bill up his nose sniffing white lines from a table. Maybe you should have intervened then, but you weren’t sure what your place was in his life anymore.
“Yeah, I know,” You clear your throat, “Are you gonna talk to me?"
“I have this- this... stuff that I’m dealing with. And uh, I don’t think I can tell anyone else. I’m not even sure I should tell you.” He sits down beside you and curiosity fills your mind.
“Rafe,” you tuck a leg underneath yourself and adjust so your body is facing him, “what happened?”
In this moment, you weren’t just ex-friends who grew apart over the years, making small talk in the name of nostalgia. In this moment, you’re the kids cannonballing into your pool at the family barbeque, the teenagers sneaking alcohol from your parents’ liquor cabinet just to get drunk in your room, the friends who spent every day together. In this moment, you never grew apart and you still understood each other.
“I did something. And- and I- I did it to protect my dad, you know? But someone knew. He fucking knew I did it and he was trying to blackmail my dad for money. And so, he—”
“What’d he do? What did you do?”
His blue eyes observe your face like he’s trying to determine his next words. You want him to talk to you, so you lean closer to put a hand on his knee for support.
“He killed our pilot, Gavin. He asked me to help him-” He lets out a shaky breath as he rubs his face, like he's trying to wake up from a nightmare. “Help him get rid of it.”
“Did you…?”
Even with him turning away, you see his eyes moisten. He opens his mouth like he's about to answer but instead, he clenches his jaw shut and looks up to the ceiling. Your face twists with concern at his reaction, but you don't want to say anything else until he answers.
“I did, Y/n.” His voice cracked.
You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to criticize Ward or ask what the hell happened to him after you stopped being friends, but neither would do him any good. Instead, you sigh and give in to the urge telling you to pull him into you. You wonder why he didn't go to Topper or Kelce; you never spotted him in public without one of them at his side. But as he embraces you tightly, you quickly realize what he wants is comfort and you wince at the sobs that start to erupt out of him. In between sniffles, he starts to tell you everything. Not just about what his dad did tonight, but about what he did that led to it in the first place; he killed a cop.
“I think there might be something wrong with me.”
Might is an understatement.
“That is some pretty fucked up stuff, Rafe.”
“I need you. I don’t know how to fix this on my own.” He lifts his head up. His face is only an inch away from yours, you can feel his warm breath on your skin as his eyes gaze into yours like he’s searching for something.
“Okay,” You put your hands on his shoulders to create space between you, “Stay here tonight. I’ll help you. We’ll fix it.”
#rafe cameron#rafe#fanfic#obx fic#rafe obx#outerbanks#obx fanfiction#obx x reader#rafe x reader#ward cameron#angst#soft rafe cameron#grandmasterswifefic#grandmasterswife#rafe x y/n#rafe imagine
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I tolarete bullshit but not hatefull ignorance
grapefarmersteinbeck
John Steinbeck
occasionally-art
Art_On_Occasion