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lovelettersfromluna · 11 days

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Too Sweet

Summary: Getting divorced from your ex wife after a measly two years of marriage wasn’t exactly your plan, so now you’re packing up and moving back to your quiet small town, will old flings bring back even older feelings?

an: Count on me to hop from dark brooding vampire Ellie to high school sweethearts Ellie within the same month. Let’s just be completely honest, are you even apart of this community if you haven’t dabbled in mechanic!ellie? Long story short, I’m a sucker for a summer romance, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: MDNI!! eventual smut in later chapters!!, this one is sickly sweet I’m sorry (but also very angsty), reader is a bit of a tough cookie at the beginning of this (her hearts broken and her walls are back up what do you want me to do), mentions of cheating (no main characters don’t worry, mentions of alcohol consumption (all characters are 21+ ofc), lots of flashbacks, lots of kissing, pet names (baby, princess, angel, and a few special ones), mentions of cigarettes, pls lmk if I missed anything!!

The summer breeze was cool against your body, the linen blanket protecting your bare legs from the prickly grass, the stars even seemed extra brighter, almost putting on a show for you and Ellie as you both gazed up at them.

The summer after your senior year of high school seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye. One moment, you were walking across the stage in front of your entire class, taking she diploma you’d worked for since you were in kindergarten, all of those countless years of school finally coming to that moment, and the next, you’re laid out on the ground in your backyard with Ellie, soaking in the feeling of your last night together before it was time to leave for college.

You noticed Ellie’s hand reach up, finger pointing to a small pair of stars at the very corner of the deep navy blue sky.

“See those two? Tucked away in the corner? I think that one’s us…” she hummed out. It sounded like she was sure of it too, like it was a well known fact that she was simply sharing with you. It makes you giggle, rolling over to straddle the girl beneath you.

And it’s like the very stars above are in her eyes when she’s looking up at you, her hands caressing your soft, bare thighs, watching as your hair frames your face oh so perfectly. One of her hands reaches up, tucking it behind your ear as she gives you a soft smile.

“Who told you could be so fuckin pretty?” She pouts out playfully, almost angry with how beautiful you are. It makes you roll your eyes, bringing your hand down and giving her cheek a soft pinch.

“Shut up…” you mumble out, quickly becoming shy beneath your girlfriend’s gaze.

In that moment, you realize just how much you’ll miss moments like this. You were going off to the big city to live your dreams and go to college, and Ellie was staying behind because frankly, school was never really her thing. You knew that when both your decisions had been made, that it would more than likely affect your relationship. The thought makes you frown, and Ellie notices immediately.

She’s giving your thigh a soft pinch, sitting up and giving you all her attention.

“I thought we said no pouting today…you promised” she sighs out, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. It doesn’t really help, your hands loosely wrapping around her shoulders as you stare down at her lap that you’re settled on.

“I just…know that everything will change tomorrow” you sigh out, a soft pout on your lips as you avoid Ellie’s gaze.

She hums out in understanding, listening to your worries, simply allowing you to voice them. She lets a moment pass by before she responds.

“It’ll only change if we let it…I’ll come visit you all the time, and you need to come back to bake me and my dad cookies” she hums out nonchalantly, giving you a gentle shrug, which only earns a soft huff and a nudge from you to her shoulder.

“I’m serious El…I hate the idea of being without you…” you huff out softly. She chuckles as you give her a shove before she leans in to give you another soft kiss.

“I am being serious…” she drawls out, pulling away from you and cupping your cheek softly, staring into your eyes with so much love and care, it was almost unbearable.

“You’ll always be my girl…you know that” her voice is above a whisper, as if you and her were the only two people in the world. Sat there, in the quiet back yard of your even quieter neighborhood, the wind chimes clanking together on the front porch, paired with the sound of the rustling of the trees in the breeze, all of it coming together to create something of a perfect lullaby that can only be described as Ellie.

And her words make your heart bloom, giving you the hope that you needed to wake up in the morning and start your journey as a small town girl in the big city, knowing that if all else fails, you’d always have your Ellie to look forward to and depend on when you needed her.

Your cheeks almost feel sore with how big you’re smiling, leaning in and pressing a loving kiss to your girlfriends mouth, to which she accepts gladly, strong hands on your hips as she pulls you down to lay on her chest as her back hits the ground softly.

“I love you so much, Ellie…” you sigh out against her lips, barely giving yourself enough time to say it between the passionate kiss you two share. It makes her smirk against your lips, nodding as she gives your waist a gentle squeeze.

“Love you more, dream girl..” she hums out against you as she practically drowns herself in you.

It’s funny, because while that all felt like it happened just yesterday, it had been almost five years since you’d last seen Ellie Williams in the flesh.

Because as most teenage girls do, they aim for the stars. They believe that the sky’s the limit in the adult world, and where there’s a will there’s a way, and tons of other stupid sayings that are just words used to promise yourself something that may or may not happen.

All of it was just that, words that didn’t amount to anything.

Because you didn’t expect for the city and college to be the way that it was. The first night you moved into your apartment was one of the most hectic you’d ever experienced. You were a girl from a comically small town, catapulted into this fast paced world filled with adults who were going and coming from work, other students trying to make a name for themselves, and people simply trying to live.

To put things into simpler terms, you just weren’t available enough to keep Ellie in your life.

While she spoke to you on the phone almost the entire night of your first night in your apartment, soothing you and helping you sleep, and she made sure to text you in the morning and make sure you had everything you needed, your responses on the other end just became less and less frequent. Phone calls slowly stopped, text messages weren’t getting answered, and you gradually disappeared from Ellie’s life, the city swallowing you hole and keeping you away from her.

The worst part about it? You barely even noticed Ellie wasn’t in your life anymore. Between your classes and your job, you barely had enough time to breath let alone keep a relationship with your girlfriend.

It wasn’t until about a year into city life that it all happened. You were so absent, that you didn’t even realize Ellie sent you a message one day saying it was best to just be friends rather than try to keep a relationship, wishing you the best in a way that sounded far too understanding.

Before you knew it, you found a girl to take Ellie’s place in your heart. She was smart, and kind, and from the moment you laid eyes on her in a bar in the city one night after exams, you knew she had to be yours.

Soon enough she was, the two of you moving a bit too fast for your parents taste. Getting married fresh out of college wasn’t exactly what they wanted for you, but you were happy! And that’s all that truly mattered to you.

Man, should you have listened to them.

Two years. Two fucking years with the girl you were planning on devoting your loyalty to for the rest of your life was all you had, all you were given until you caught her fucking her coworker into the mattress of the bed you two shared. To say you didn’t see it coming would be a lie. Your ex wife was a fucking moron who couldn’t lie to save her ass. You’d only been gaslighting yourself for the last six months of your marriage into thinking she was just going through a rough patch or even planning some romantic getaway for the two of you.

No romantic getaways though, only heartbreak.

It was like you couldn’t even cry when you saw it, your body freezing at the sight of them in your bed once you followed the very loud trail of moans leading to your bedroom. The idiots, they didn’t even have the decency to do it in a fucking hotel or something.

So as your wife’s (ex wife) chasing you through your apartment, watching as you silently grab your suitcase and throw your things into it, the girl on your bed watching with wide eyes as she grips your favorite silk sheets against her chest to cover herself, you only truly have one thing on your mind.

“Come on baby…I…it was one time! You have to believe me!” She’s calling out like a wailing child, and the voice you once loved with all your heart sounds like nails on a chalk board. You swiftly tug your wedding ring off of your finger, tossing it onto the coffee table.

“My lawyer will send over the divorce papers” you speak out clearly, wanting her to hear ever fucking syllable that exits your mouth before you leave the apartment with the door slamming behind you, muffling her pathetic pleas behind the door.

You needed to go home.

Driving back to your home town was something you’d always imagine would be therapeutic. You imagined yourself packing your kids into a car with your wife, and making the drive all the way back to show them where their mommy grew up, allowing them to see a side of you that not many got to see.

This drive was nothing like that.

Instead, you were alone. Your old Cadillac your dad gifted you as a graduation present was practically begging you to get back on the road again. While it felt good to drive instead of taking a bus or a train, the circumstances made your heart ache.

While you didn’t cry when you initially found out about your wife’s affair, it all seemed to hit you on the drive back home, crashing down on you and making it hard to breath. You had to pull over and collect yourself for a good thirty minutes because the tears in your eyes were blurring your vision too much to drive.

You couldn’t even feel excited to go home, not with the overbearing weight of heartbreak leaving an ugly feeling in your chest.

It’s like your town is frozen in time. The same stores are there, the same shady trees, everything is just how you left it. It comes as a relief to you, because if your town had undergone a shitty futuristic makeover by some big corporate asshole looking for new business opportunities, you probably would’ve lost your mind.

The street where your house sits is just the same. There are kids riding their bikes up and down the quiet block, reminding you so much of yourself when you were their age. They even wave to you, giggling and smiling at you as if you’d been there the whole time, even though you’re sure a handful of them were born well after you’d left town.

And there your house sits, quiet and empty, practically waiting for someone to step in and fill her up. She’d been void of any of your family members ever since your parents became empty nesters and decided to travel the world. They of course let you know that the house was more than yours when they found out about your divorce. They told you they’d been needing someone to step in and take over for a while now since they’d been gone, that you were just the person they needed.

You knew they were saying that just to make you feel better.

Stepping out of your car and looking up at the house that you once called home makes your emotions all the more intense. It makes you feel old, but it makes you feel like you’d moved too fast all at the same time, your feelings contradicting each other in that sense. You have to take a deep inhale, swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill out onto your cheeks as you took a moment longer to take in the big house before you decided it was time to start moving your stuff into the house.

Besides a new couch and some new paint, the house is virtually the exact same as the way you left it. It makes your heart ache, because you realize you haven’t been back since the night you left when you were eighteen years old. You were too eager, too excited to leave behind the life your parents had built around you from the day you were born, that you neglected to even visit the world that they’d created for you.

It makes you feel like a bad daughter.

And suddenly you’re crying again, with no one to hold or console you, remind you that everything is fine and it only feels like the world is crashing down on you. Your life had gone in a way that you’d never expected, taking a course that you never saw for yourself, and it had its way of ignoring everything that you’d achieved, instead making you feel like a failure.

Your bedroom hasn’t changed either. The same shitty posters and figurines are still littered along your walls, your desk and your dresser, reminding you of all the silly little interests and hobbies you had as a young girl.

All the ones you’d forgotten as an adult.

It makes your heart ache, because it feels like everything is just crashing down on you and making you feel like all the things you’d been ignoring are practically begging, forcing you to acknowledge them, forcing you to feel them.

That first night back consists of you crying in the bath, followed by crying in your bed until you’ve fallen asleep.

You don’t leave the house for a few days, almost a week, thanking the forces of the internet that DoorDash had come to your small town, allowing you to feed yourself without the consequences of stepping out into town.

You weren’t ready for that. You weren’t ready for the people of your town to recognize you, to see the once happy, golden girl of their town that made it out of it all to get to the big city, back. Now lacking that sparkle she used to have in her eyes.

They all cared about you deeply, you could see it in the way they asked your parents constantly about you. But you couldn’t face them, not yet.

It doesn’t take long for the rest of your things that you’d shipped down to arrive at your house, a big truck stopping outside your house one early morning before setting everything in your garage. Once they left, you were faced with the task of moving all of the shit you’d accumulated in the city, into your new home.

And what a surprise it was when you were just about to grab a big box, only to see a familiar old grey truck pull up into your driveway next to your car.

Joel hadn’t changed at all. He was still just as old and burly as you remembered, his eyes crinkling at the edges with those familiar little wrinkles and his smile shining through the thick hair covering the bottom half of his face.

“Well would you look at who the cat dragged in” he chuckles out as he steps out of his car, old boots settling down onto the hot concrete of your driveway as his hand rested on the top of the car door.

His presence is enough to light up your face, quickly setting down the box as you rush out of the garage to meet the man outside of his car. The feeling of his strong arms wrapping around you in what could only be described as the closest thing to what hugging a bear feels like, temporarily mends your broken heart.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again…it’s good to have you back kid…” he sighs out, chin pressed to the top of your head as you press your head against his chest. You can smell the faint scent of pine and cigarettes, further proving how much Joel has managed to stay the same since you’d last seen him.

You don’t trust yourself to respond, feeling the familiar tightening of your throat, the burning at your eyes and the tingle in your nose.

Joel had become somewhat of a second father to you, what with you and Ellie growing up together and all. Between your dad and hers being best friends, and you and Ellie being as close as you were, only to end up dating in high school, it wasn’t exactly a shock that you two had become so close with each others families.

Despite the heat of the summer time sun beating down on the both of you, you can’t bring yourself to let go of him. It feels like he’s the first person that’s hugged you in a long time and you’re fighting back the urges to cry with a fucking bat.

He chuckles softly, giving you a gentle squeeze before he pulls back, looking down into your eyes only to see that they’re pooling up with tears. You remind him so much of that little girl that was in and out of his home, stealing his daughter’s heart and running off with it to the big city to chase your dreams.

He can see so clearly just how much you’re hurting.

It makes him frown, bringing his hand up to ruffle your hair playfully.

You sniffle, biting back your tears as you stare up at the man. “What are you doing here?” You croak out, far too choked up to get a proper sentence out.

He hums softly as he looks up at the house, and then to the boxes filling up your garage, which he gestures to. “Your folks gave me a call…said you’d been comin’ home…they asked if I’d be able to help you get settled in” he explained, his eyes squinting a bit as if to size up the amount of things you had to take up before he gave a firm nod, as if confirming he’d be more than able to.

He looks back down at you, giving you his signature warm smile before he continues. “I was indeed free…so here I am” he confirmed with a chuckle.

You simply blink up at him, trying to gauge whether or not he knows, if your parents told him exactly why you were coming home along with telling him that you were coming back in the first place. Clearly you were moving back home, and he knew that you’d been married.

But he doesn’t say anything further. He doesn’t say he’s sorry, he doesn’t ask if you’re okay. He simply treats it like you’re just coming back home because you want to, not because you’re running away from something.

You decide to simply leave it at that.

Soon you’re giving him a soft smile, nodding as you look back at the boxes before leading him into the garage. You let out a soft sigh as you look at the work cut out for you two before you gesture towards them.

“It’s a lot, Mr. Miller…and I don’t expect you to help with everything so-“ he’s quickly cutting you off, the older man scoffing as he bends down to grab one of the bigger ones in a way that’s far too impressive for a man his age.

“Mr. Miller? The city went and made you all formal? Now…come inside and show me where you want these” he hums out casually, making you giggle softly before you grab a box yourself, moving to walk in front of him before you nod inside.

“Fine…but at least let me feed you once we’re finished” you make sure to add before leading him inside and show him where to place the box he had.

Soon, it’s nearly mid day and your garage is free of boxes. You almost don’t believe how quickly you and Joel were able to get all of the boxes in, the man moving quick for his age. You had to bite your tongue from mentioning it, knowing that he’d scoff and tell you he could run circles around the young kids asses any given day.

He of course lets you hold up your end of the bargain, making him a sandwich and some freshly squeezed lemonade just in time for lunch. Sitting down with him at your kitchen table makes you face just how lonely you’d been in that house. Sure, you didn’t mind doing things on your own, you were by yourself for the first three years of college before you met your ex wife. There was just something about being in your childhood home that was once bustling with life, always buzzing with the sounds of a family, now only filled with you and the soft patter of your feet against the wooden floor when you had to get from one point to another, that seemed to leave your heart feeling even more hollow than it already had become.

You knew that with some food and some spare time to simply sit with each other, conversation would erupt between you and Joel, so it didn’t come to a surprise when he finally mentioned the elephant in the room.

The plates were filled with crumbs and some discarded sandwich crust, glasses half filled with ice and a few lemon edges as you sat across from each other, the warm summer breeze blowing the lacy curtains further into the house.

“I don’t mean to pry…but what made you decide to come home?” He questions innocently. You know he isn’t doing it to gossip or lurk too deep in places that he doesn’t belong, he’s simply curious. He could see that look in your eyes when he first got there, and he knew that there was something behind them begging to get out, begging to be heard.

It makes you hum, your fingers lazily wrapped around the white and yellow striped straw in your cup, swirling around the remnants of your drink before you let out a soft sigh.

“I um…my wife and I got divorced…” your words trail off, almost ashamed to say them. You let out a soft scoff, nodding as you catch Joel’s shocked face before you continue.

“She was sleeping with her coworker…in our bed…” you pour salt on the wound with that one, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you sigh, finally looking over at Joel to see he’s giving you and apologetic frown, his hand reaching over to grip your hand on the table, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Kid…I….fuck…I’m sorry” he tries, and you’re shaking your head to stop him before he can even continue further.

“I shouldn’t have married her so quickly…my parents told me it wasn’t a good idea but I…was too eager” you mumble out with a shrug before you give him a soft smile, your hand moving up to give his a squeeze instead, wanting to assure the now sad man that everything was fine.

“I’m okay Joel…really…if anything it’s karma for what I did to Ellie-“ he’s quickly cutting you off, seeing the way you’re simply talking out of your ass at this point.

He’s shaking his head, settling back in his chair before he cuts you off. “No…nuh-uh…Ellie has never blamed you for how things ended and you know that” his voice gets a bit more firm, wanting you to fully understand what he’s trying to convey.

You can’t help but frown as you stare down at the old kitchen table, far too deep in thought to even listen to the man. He can tell, he can see that you’re zoning out and getting deep in your head, so he pushes himself forward, resting his forearms on the table as he gets a bit closer to you.

“She knew how much leaving meant to you…she’s never once blamed you for anything” he tries again, this time trying to convey to you how truthful his words were, how much he truly meant them.

Hearing her name only makes your heart hurt more.

Because it felt like the universe was punishing you for not choosing her, for choosing the wrong girl instead of the one that you’d be given, the one that was simply perfect for you. You knew you were wrong for it, but was all of this necessary?

You don’t say anything, simply giving the man a soft smile before you nod, moving to grab the empty plates and cups and moving them to the sink, desperately trying to escape the conversation.

You hear him hum softly behind you, knowing it means he’s going to speak further. “She owns the car shop in town….bought it off of Mr. Johnson a little while after you left…” he explains.

The thought of Ellie had crossed your mind the moment you came to terms with the fact that you were moving back home. She crossed your mind a lot, but knowing that there may or may not would come a time where you’d have to face her again had your stomach in knots. You knew little to nothing about Ellie now, you didn’t know what she was doing or whether or not she was still living in town, you didn’t even know if she was with someone or not.

So to hear her father confirming that she was in fact still there, still around and not angry or bitter over the way things happened, it felt all too much like Joel trying to play Cupid between his daughter and her high school girlfriend.

His words make you freeze for a moment, your hands stilling against the dish and the sponge in your hand. He notices this, standing up from his seat at the table and moving to stand next to you, his palms pressing against the counter as his neck cranes down to eye you carefully.

“You should stop by…say hello…if you want” he assures you, wanting you to know that it was completely up to you and what you were comfortable with. You finally look up, giving the older man a soft smile before nodding.

“I…thanks Joel…for everything” you manage, finishing up the dishes before you grab a nearby rag to dry your hands. He smiles warmly as he nods before he brings his hand up to check his watch, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door.

“I’ll be heading out now then…I have some things I need to take care of in town” he explains, looking down at you and giving you a slight nod. “You call me if you need anything missy…you hear?” He firmly reminds you before cracking a smile, reaching out and giving your arm a gentle squeeze before you walk him out of your house.

That night, Joel’s words echo throughout your head, and all you can think about is seeing Ellie again. Should you even consider it? Was it even a good idea for a newly divorced girl to be dabbling in the world of her old flings? Her first fling to be exact?? It all somehow sounded like a recipe for disaster.

Yet you couldn’t stop yourself from mentally searching through your closet for an outfit to wear on your first official outing.

After about another week of sulking in your house, you finally haul an old pair of denim shorts and a nice white linen blouse and force yourself out of your front door. Sure, you would’ve preferred crawling under your sheets and sobbing into your pillow, wondering why this had to happen to you, and why you couldn’t have a long happy marriage like everyone else, but healing had to start somewhere. You knew that you couldn’t do any of that if you continued wallowing in your own self pity.

The sun does a good job at pulling you out of your home. The weather was too nice to stay stuck inside of an old house all day. Summer vacation was in full swing, paired with the neighborhood kids bringing out the old sprinkler and everything, you’re sure you can even hear the ice cream truck coming down the road when you’re pulling out of your driveway.

It’s like you can finally see the beauty of your little town whenever you’re put together with the intention of coming out. It’s almost like the opposite of living life with rose colored glasses, instead you were blinded by a grey fog that came with your divorce, keeping you from truly seeing all that your home town had to offer.

Being in town does more for you than you’d ever imagine. Visiting the old faces that were once apart of your day to day almost makes it feel like you’d never left. Mrs. Charlotte still owns the little produce store, you’d always visit her after school and on the weekends because she always had some of the best strawberries no matter the season. The smile on her face when she saw you was one like no other, the woman grabbing you and pulling you into her chest the moment she saw you walk into her shop.

Mr. Johnny still owned the local photography store, he gave you your first job when you were sixteen years old. He’s partially to thank for helping you pay for college. You couldn’t believe your eyes when his little girl that you used to babysit was getting ready for her final year in high school, working in the same position you were when you were her age.

And Mr. and Mrs. Peters made sure to stop you when you were passing by their old pet store, Mrs. Peters unable to believe her eyes when she saw the golden girl passing by her old shop. She scolded you for not writing her earlier, letting her know that you were coming into town. You make it up to her by telling her you’re here to stay, and that you’ll make it a point to have both her and her husband over for dinner one of these days whenever they’re free.

So? Nearly nothing has changed. Sure, everyone’s gotten a bit older, but so have you. You’ve changed, and you’ve grown, and you’re so much different and so much more than the small towns golden girl that finally made it out to the big city, just to get her heart broken in the process of it all.

And that’s what you remind yourself as you find yourself pulling up to the familiar car shop that Joel had mentioned the week before.

It’s no surprise that Ellie ended up finding herself to be the owner of the local car shop in your town. She’d always loved cars, working on them, fixing them up, everyone in your school knew that if you had a problem with your vehicle, you’d call Ellie. She was the one that came together with your dad to fix his old Cadillac, fixing her up, turning her out and making her brand new for your adventures in the big city.

Standing in front of her shop makes your heart beat right out of your chest. But you’re here already, so you might as well just suck it up and walk right in.

As you do so, you can’t help but let the lingering thoughts take over. The suns already setting at this point, and you’re sure she’s close to closing up if she hasn’t already. What even was the point? Ellie probably didn’t even wanna see you! This was all Joel’s idea and what if he was just trying to make you feel-

“I’ll be right there!” You hear a familiar voice call out from the back, making your heart beat faster just from the sound of it.

She sounds the same, yet more mature. Her voice deeper with a bit of roughness to it, making her sound all the more irresistible. It makes you stand in the opened garage of her shop, surrounded by all of the cars that are opened up or hoisted up into the sky, your hands gripping your bag almost nervously as you stand there, frozen, unable to move.

Soon, she’s emerging from the back. She has a pair of navy overalls on, the sleeves tied around her waist, leaving her top half in a white wife pleaser, both of which were covered in motor oil and grease. Her arms are bigger, and covered in tattoos, something you remembered her saying she’d do the second she got the money for it. She’s taller too, and her hair is shorter, gone is the familiar pony tail she always had, instead it stops just at the nape of her neck, messily tossed into a bun while a few strands rests against her skin. her features stronger too, sharper.

She’s so different, yet so similar to the Ellie you remember, your Ellie. She still has the power of taking your breath away with a single glance.

“Well I’ll be damned…is that the dream girl?” She chuckles out with a soft smirk on her lips, pulling a red rag from her back pocket to wipe her hands clean. The nickname leaves goosebumps trailing down your skin.

Dream girl.

You recall the nickname from the many times you were with Ellie. Back when you two dated, she’d go on and on about how perfect you were, how she knew you were the girl of her dreams, animated into real life from the moment she laid eyes on you. You were the girl of her very dreams, and she never failed to remind you of that. Ever.

Hearing her call you that has your lips twitching up into a shy smile as you give her a shrug.

“In the flesh…” you mumble out, biting back an embarrassed giggle as the girl clearly drinks you in, eyes shamelessly raking up and down your body.

“Jesus…come here!” She groans out as she rushes towards you, strong arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you up, spinning you around as she keeps you in her arms. It makes you laugh loudly, a deep guttural laugh leaving your lips, possibly for the first time since your divorce.

The feeling of Ellie’s strong arms wrapping around your body feels like your missing puzzle piece has been given back to you, like you’ve been reunited with a part of you that you left behind far too long ago.

But she’s so much stronger now, and she’s older and…and…

It all just feels so right.

“Ellie stop! Put me down, you’re filthy” you whine out, landing a playful slap to her sweaty arm as she chuckles, finally setting you back down onto the floor.

She chuckles softly, settling her hands on either one of her hips as she lets out a sigh, a soft smile on her face. “I’m surprised the town hasn’t thrown a damn parade when they heard you’d be here…my god” she sighs out, practically in awe with your very appearance.

“Come on back, I’m just finishing some paperwork before I close” she nods her head to the back where she was moments ago, which you quickly follow her as she guides you.

Her garage is empty except for her, most likely working overtime after her employees had gone home, which was very much like Ellie. The walls are covered with the same posters of the bands you knew Ellie loved, as well as a healthy collection of vintage car photos, which isn’t a shock at all since those were always the center of Ellie’s car obsession.

The place seems nice and worn in, it suits Ellie in the best way.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear her let out a soft hum. She’s leaned up against her work table, wiping her hands off further with her red rag before she tosses it over her shoulder, crossing her toned arms across her chest as she eyes you fondly, a soft smile on her face.

“You haven’t changed one bit…” she hums out, eyes trailing on your face as she keeps that fine smile on hers. It makes you feel shy, the same way you felt all those years ago when your feelings for Ellie really started to shine through, and every little thing she’d say would have you giggling like an idiot.

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile as your top teeth sink into your bottom lip, shrugging as you move your hands up to loosely rest on your own arms.

“Please…the city has practically chewed me up and spit me out…I’m surprised I don’t have wrinkles yet” you huff softly, bringing your hand up to your forehead to make sure you weren’t frowning again, a habit you’d picked up recently.

Getting cheated on made you far too miserable.

She chuckles, shaking her head as her pink tongue darts out to lick her lips, still soaking you in like she would the sun.

“Nah…a face like that? Not even the city could ruin” she adds, giving you a small wink.

It warms you heart up in the best of ways, finally giving you a moment to stand still and enjoy life without letting the actions of your ex wife consume you. She makes you forget all about it, reminding you of a time where the thought of getting cheated on, didn’t even cross your mind.

You two stand there for a moment, seemingly taking each other in, enjoying the moment. It’s clear that she’s flirting, and it feels so similar to the days of your old life. It feels like the times where you and Ellie would spend hours talking outside your house or hers, when you’d shyly smile and giggle at one another when you were unsure of your feelings, when things were fresh.

You can tell Ellie feels it too, because she’s quick to blink a few times in your direction before she clears her throat, smile dropping as she turns around to busy herself with something on her desk.

“How’s that wife of yours? Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding…was um….was busy” she mumbles out.

Although her back is facing you, you can practically hear the way her eyebrows furrow and her lips twitch into a frown. It was a subject that you two hadn’t spoken about much. You’d told Ellie about your ex wife when you two first started dating, and you told her about the engagement and the wedding you’d been planning, because before anything else, Ellie was your friend, and you two shared everything with each other.

But you couldn’t ignore the almost nauseating weight that settled in when you spoke to her about it. The way she tried to seem as happy for you as she could without letting underlying feelings bubble up to the surface.

You could sense that same weight now, as she asked you about the woman that broke your heart.

It rips you away from the little fantasy you’d been given with Ellie, reminding you of the dark reality of why you’d returned, and what it was that had forced you out of the city and back to your home town. Thinking about telling Ellie about what happened and actually doing it were two very different things, and the seconds of silence that passed between you began to turn into minutes, minutes where you silently begged to disappear into thin air instead of admitting to Ellie what it was that happened.

“Um…she…” you stuttered out, struggling for a moment before your eyes fluttered shut, and you took a deep inhale, grounding yourself before you finally spoke once more.

“We got divorced.” You finally manage to get out, your balled up fists finally relaxing down at your sides as your shoulders deflate, the weight of your situation finally releasing itself from your body as you admitted it to her.

You see her still for a moment, movements halting completely as she struggles to comprehend what it was that you’d said, what it was that she was hearing.

Hearing about your girlfriend was a jab to the chest, but it wasn’t like she didn’t see it coming. Plus, it’s just a girlfriend! And you were all the way in the city anyways, who was Ellie to be jealous of that? Hearing about your engagement was also fairly hard, it wasn’t like she spent countless nights at the bar drowning out her sorrows over the one that got away. Seeing your actual wedding invitation though? Man, that was fucking hard. Ellie isn’t entirely sure how she got through that part. Ignoring it was the easiest way how.

Ellie would spend night after night wishing on a single star that you’d get divorced from that woman, knowing deep down she wasn’t the right one for you. Call it a gut feeling or call it jealousy, whatever it was, there was a constant lingering feeling that Ellie had ever since you’d gotten married that left a bitter taste in her mouth, one that she felt wouldn’t end well with that girl.

And now you’re here, standing in the middle of her old car shop, telling her that you were in fact divorced, and one of the countless stars in the sky has listened to her.

But she can’t move. She’s frozen in place as she eyes the papers on her desk, that now have no purpose to her since the only thing she can focus on is your words. It makes you nervous, and you take it was an opportunity to clear your throat, wanting desperately to cut the silence in half.

“Your dad told me you owned this place now…so I thought I’d visit…” you mumble out awkwardly, struggling to find the words to say to Ellie as she simply stood there, back turned to you for what felt like an eternity.

She inhales deeply, finally turning around to face you. You weren’t entirely sure what you expected her expression to read, but you’re surprised to see that she’s frowning, a soft sigh leaving her lips as she leans her palms back on her desk, shaking her head a she eyes you.

“Always knew those city girls were no good…I’m sorry sweetheart” she sighs out genuinely. You give her a shrug, shaking your head as you send a half smile her way.

“I’m just glad it happened sooner than later…saying I have an ex wife is cool though” you snort out, which earns a chuckle from Ellie as she nods in agreement.

“Very cool…makes you sound all grown up” she winks at you before she nods her head at you. “You still staying at your old place? Or did you find somethin’ in town” she hums out, clearly trying to change the subject for your own comfort.

And hers….

You hum softly as you nod, gesturing off to the direction of your home. “Yup…my parents treat the place like it’s a vacation home…I was practically taking it off their hands” you sigh out in fake annoyance, which makes Ellie laugh softly as she nods.

“Man…haven’t seen those two in a couple of years. You’d think they’re on their honeymoon” she adds, making you giggle as well.

The summer breeze blows swiftly against your body, your hair blowing with it, fallen blossoms from the apple trees in town dancing along your feet. It doesn’t help that you’re dressed in the same pair of denim shorts Ellie used to love so much, looking all too familiar to the girl of her passed, yet so different at the same time.

She stares at you shamelessly, smiling fondly as she simply takes you in.

You furrow your eyebrows, biting back a smile as you eye her closely. “What are you staring at, Williams?” You ask her, clearly teasing the girl as she gives you a shrug, biting down on her bottom lip as she gives you a smile.

“You expect me to not stare when a pretty girl is stood in my shop? What do you take me for” she shoots out far too smoothly, making you roll your eyes. You shoo your hand at her, turning around to make your way back to your car, knowing that if you stay any longer, you’ll probably end up getting charmed by Ellie all over again.

As if she hadn’t already done that the moment you laid eyes on her.

“I’m freshly divorced missy…not exactly the top choice at the market” you scold her jokingly, giving her a small wave as you walk out onto the curb, making your way back to your car.

“Just wanted to stop by and say hello…don’t wanna keep you any longer” you hum out, giving the girl a small smile as your hand reaches for the handle of your car.

Ellie is moving before she can think, eyes widening as she quickly follows you out to your car, her larger hand gently resting over your own as she moves to pull your car door open for you.

“My um…my number hasn’t changed…if you still have it and you wanted to talk…or hang out or something…” she mumbles out shyly. For a moment, you see her drop the smooth, suave demeanor she had mere moments ago, saying all the right things and strumming all the right chords. For a moment, she’s Ellie. She’s the Ellie that stuttered and struggled to get the words out when she asked you out the first time, or asked you to be her girlfriend.

She’s the Ellie that you make nervous.

“Do you…have my number still?” She asks nervously, worried she’d been reading into this all wrong. It makes you giggle, nodding as you lean your back against your car, staring up at the girl before you speak.

“Of course I have your number, Ellie…wouldn’t lose it for the world” you hum out as you give her a soft smile, which has her eyes twinkling as she gives you a small smile.

“Good…” she managed out as she watches you get into your car.

She hums as she leans down, pressing her arms against the edge of your window, looking into your car before she looks at you. You feel your insides burning at how fucking close she is at that.

“A buddy of mine s’got a gig down at the Copper Cat this Saturday…if you wanted to come out” she casually invites you, eyeing you closely to try and gauge your response to it.

Your eyes widen a bit at the mention of the old bar, memories swirling into your head like a hurricane. “The Copper Cat?? That place is still opened??” You practically shriek in shock of the old bar still being up and running. Your response makes Ellie chuckle as she nods.

“Yup…and it’s better than ever too. They remodeled last summer” she explains, you don’t miss the proud smile on her face as she practically beams at you. You giggle softly as you nod slowly before you hum, looking down at your lap for a moment as you thought about it a bit. Your ex girlfriend was inviting you to some mediocre show at an even more mediocre bar in the small corner of your town, and you were newly divorced…

What could go wrong with that

You smile up at her before giving her a nod. “Text me and let me know what time you’ll be there” you give her a nod, confirming that you’ll come. You can see the see the way her eyes practically twinkle at that, nodding eagerly as she smiles.

“I’ll pick you up” she quickly replied, leaving no room for you to decline, because she’d already pushing herself up and off of your window, giving you a bright smile as she nods her head in the direction of the main road.

“Go on…before I keep you here even longer than I’m supposed to” she gives you a wink, which sends your heart until a flurry of emotions, sparking it all up all over again before you roll your eyes playfully, and drive off after giving her a small wave goodbye, her smile seemingly seared into the forefront of your brain as you grinned like an idiot while making your way back home.

God…were you fucked.

This wasn’t a date.

This was simply two old friends catching up after a long time! Ellie had asked you to come out because she probably felt bad for you. She could probably see the tears stained into your cheeks and the absolute trail of sadness that followed you around and thought, ‘this girl could use a night out’, so she invited you.

This wasn’t a date.

It was a pity invite! A date would have been some place nice. Ellie was romantic, you knew that. She’d treated you better in your puppy love relationship than most girls did while you were in the city, so of course suggesting to go to the bar was keeping it friendly.

This wasn’t a date.

It wasn’t a date. It was just you going out to a bar because you’re single now and you can do what you want without feeling guilty or wrong for doing fun things. That’s all. It wasn’t a date at all.

But if it wasn’t a date…why were you so fucking nervous.

You visited Ellie at her shop on Monday, you weren’t set to see her again until Friday night, so why was it the only thing you could think of? You could only think of what to wear, how to act, if you should text her or not, would that be pushy? Would that be overstepping? She told you her number hadn’t changed! So obviously that meant she wanted you to text her….right?

Right?

God, who knew at this point. All you knew, was that you were set to see Ellie this weekend. Regardless of it being a date or not, it was nerve wracking. So when Friday afternoon finally rolls around, you find yourself partaking in things that are a steering a bit too close to pre date activities.

Such as making sure your entire body was nice and moisturized, but that was just for you! That wasn’t for Ellie to touch or squeeze…or making sure your hair was cleaned and styled, that’s just because you want to be presentable! You can’t let the people of your town see the mess your ex wife made. Or doing your makeup and picking out the perfect outfit. That was simply because…you wanted to! Nothing more, nothing less.

You settled on a simple yellow sundress with pink flowers, it hugs your middle perfectly and flows down to your calves, making it just enough to look like you put a bit of effort into your appearance. It almost felt like a breath of fresh air to haul on any old pair of shorts or a nice dress to go out, something the city rarely allowed. The city was too into appearances, everyone needing to wear the best clothes and the trendiest styles when setting foot outside, especially on a night out. It was fun, but it became exhausting after a while, all you wanted to do was to wear your comfy clothes without getting nasty looks.

The beauty of living in a small town.

When you’re finally ready, you catch a quick look at yourself in the mirror, more than happy with your overall appearance before you take a deep breath, and send Ellie a text.

Hii :)

I’m all ready whenever you wanna come by

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for Ellie to read and respond to your messages.

Awesome :)

I’m omw

You smile softly at her messages, heart beating a bit faster at the thought of her coming over as you click your phone shut, and move to sit in your living room to wait for the girl to arrive.

It’s almost comedic how quickly you move to sit on your couch, knee bouncing anxiously as you wait for the girl to pull up to your house. Sitting there gives you too much time to think, too. Because what if this is a bad idea, what if you’re just blinded by the manic excitement that comes with seeing Ellie again, the thrill of being with her, because you’re still very much heart broken, and it isn’t like everything will simply disappear once she’s-

And suddenly you can’t think anymore, because all you can hear is a firm knock at your front door, echoing through your house.

It catches the air in your lungs and practically runs with it, leaving you panicking as your eyes flutter between the front door and the clock, and you realize it’s been about fifteen minutes since Ellie’s texted you, and you’d just been sitting on your couch overthinking as always.

Your feet seem to have a mind of their own as they carry you to your front door, moving to open it before you can even come to terms with opening up for it.

And if you think Ellie looked good when you saw her at her shop? God…you didn’t know what good looked like until now.

The white t shirt she wears hugs her body beautifully, covered by an old leather jacket that fits her even better. Her toned thighs are clad in what you can only assume to be expensive blue denim jeans, simply by how perfectly they fit her. It’s all covered with a fucking cherry on top when you take in her black boots, and a singular silver necklace dangling from her neck.

You’re sure she’ll notice your heart beating out of your chest any second now.

She’s smiling brightly when she takes you in, eyes raking down your form before she chuckles. “Look at you…could almost pass for one of us small town folk in that one..” she hums out, nodding in approval at your laid back outfit.

It makes you roll your eyes, landing a playful nudge to the girls arm as you adjust your bag further on your shoulder. “Please…I dressed like this even when I lived out there” you try to defend yourself, giving her a small frown before you nod your head out to her car.

“Should we get going? Wouldn’t wanna miss the main act” you hum, wanting to get out of your house desperately.

Half of the reason being because you seriously needed to get out of your house and socialize with people that weren’t your mother’s porcelain figurines….

And the other half being you simply couldn’t handle the close proximity of someone as good looking as Ellie much longer.

She hums softly as she nods, stepping to the side and she gives you a bit of space to walk out of your house. “After you, city girl” she teases you once again, earning yet another look of warning from your end, which she simply giggles at.

You can’t contain the gasp you let out when you finally lay eyes on Ellie’s ride. The vintage black mustang practically sparkles in the low light of the afternoon sun. You can’t help yourself from reaching out and running your fingers along the shiny body of the car.

“Jesus Christ Ellie….if I knew you’d pick me up in this, I would’ve dressed nicer” you practically gasp out. Ellie chuckles softly as she watches your reaction closely, nodding slowly as she looks at the car with you.

“Hey…city girl comes to town? I need to pull all the stops” she explains with a nonchalant shrug. It makes you groan in annoyance, because did Ellie truly have to be this perfect? Couldn’t she have grown up to be a moron like your ex wife?

Why did she have to be something out of a fucking romance novel.

You’re too in awe with the vehicle to acknowledge her remark, a soft, dreamy sigh leaving your lips as you bend down a bit to look at the cream colored leather interior. “You fix this up yourself?” You hum out softly, although you already knew the answer to that question, you wanted to hear her gloat about it.

You can practically hear the cocky grin on the girls face as she nods. “Is the sky blue? Come on angel…you know nobody does it like me” she grins out, moving to stand behind you.

“Longer you stare at her, less time you have in her…” she practically purrs out. You have to ignore the way your stomach does flips at her tone, nodding eagerly as you rush to the other side of the car, to which Ellie quickly beats you to it.

“Nu-uh-uh…a lady never opens her own door, especially a city-“ you press your hand to her mouth, silencing her from finishing her sentence as you give her a displeased look.

“Finish that sentence and I’m going back inside” you deadpan, which makes Ellie quickly nod as she gives you wide eyes, opening the door for you in silence. You giggle softly, patting her cheek gently before you get into her car. “Much better” you praise her.

She chuckles softly, waiting for you to get in before she rushes to her side to get in and start driving as well.

The familiar bar hasn’t changed at all since you’d last been there. It’s almost scary how much everything’s frozen in time in the small town, leaving little to no room for changes. It makes you sigh softly, a gentle smile on your lips as Ellie pulls into the parking lot.

“Man….this place really never changes, huh?” You sigh out almost in awe, which makes Ellie chuckle as she shuts the car off.

“What can I say….Our town prioritizes tradition” she teases before she looks over at you, giving you a soft smile before nodding her head towards the building. “Come on, my buddy should be up any moment now” she urges gently before she gets out of the car, prompting you to follow when she opens up the door for you.

Inside, the place is buzzing. Filled to the brim with the people of your town, young and old, all of them eager for a night of fun after a long week of work. The atmosphere differs greatly from what you’re used to, the clubs and bars back in the city always having a strange vibe to them, one that you couldn’t ever really put your finger on.

Being there, with the people that had been born and raised in the same town as you, you were finally able to remember what it was that was missing in the city…

It was that the people here, were actually having fun.

“I’m gonna grab a drink, you want one?” Ellie leans down next to you, her voice raising a bit to combat the loud music that was already playing. You hum softly, trying your best to ignore the way her scent fills your knows and almost makes you feel drunk. You merely give her a nod and a soft smile before leaning in to speak into her ear as well. “A rum and coke if that’s okay!” You shout out to her, which earns a smile and a nod. She gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “find us a spot, I’ll find you when I have them” she urges before disappearing off into the sea of people to find the bar.

You let out a breath you’d seemingly held from the moment Ellie picked you up from your house, exhaling loudly as you look around at the packed room. There are various booths and stools available to sit, but you opt to lean up against a nearby wall, mainly because you seriously needed a time out from the amount of people there.

You truly didn’t expect for so many people to be there, thinking that it would be a barely packed house with a few of Ellie’s friends there to watch the mystery person she’d been boasting to you about. You couldn’t tell if everyone was there to see the performance, or if they were there simply to socialize and drink. You figured it was a mix of both.

Quite a bit of time passes by, and it makes you wonder if Ellie got lost or was having trouble finding you or something. You knew it was stupid to stand on the wall, so you figure you’d search for her instead.

Pushing yourself off the wall and emerging into the sea of people makes you frown, apologizing and squeezing through various people, trying your best to map out where the bar should be. You feel you can just make out the flooded area, when you finally spot Ellie.

And the girl that’s been keeping her from you.

You can see Ellie holding your drink in her hand, and one you can assume is for herself as the girl chats her up. You can barely make out who Ellie is speaking to, but from the back? You can tell she’s a looker. Her pretty hair falling down her back, attractive figure, even the way she leans in and presses her hand against Ellie’s arm whenever she laughs makes it clear that this girl is pretty, because all pretty girls know how to flirt in just the best ways possible.

And it’s the strangest fucking feeling, because even thought you caught your ex wife fucking another woman in the bed you both shared, what you feel when you see another girl touching Ellie’s arm doesn’t come close to anything you’ve ever felt before.

Because you’ve never had to see this. You’ve never had to see someone else throw themselves at Ellie. When you were dating, everyone knew that you were hers and she was yours, and even before you two were dating, everyone assumed you were both off limits anyways. It was something that you never had to face, because in the entire time that you’d known Ellie, she was yours.

But now she wasn’t. And it was clear that everyone knew that.

It makes you want to turn around and go home, ignore the ugly feeling in the pit of your stomach, call a cab and hide in your house for another month. You weren’t ready for this, these feelings that you were faced with were too much, and too fucking confusing. You wanted your bed, and your room, and your house where you were safe and no one and nothing could hurt you, you just needed to turn around and-

“Awe, there she is. Over here!” Ellie’s voice calls out over the loud music, cutting each and every one of your loud, annoying thoughts in half. Your eyes widen a bit when the girl finally turns around, only confirming the point that you had come to earlier. If anything, she puts all of that to shame, because she’s even more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.

You don’t recognize her, but she’s smiling brightly and waving you over as if she recognizes you, beckoning you over as if you’d all been friends since you were babies. You have to stop yourself from frowning, knowing both this girl and Ellie owed you nothing. You put on a smile, inhaling deeply and making your way over to the both of them.

“Sorry I took so long, I couldn’t find you anywhere” Ellie quickly apologizes as she hands you your drink. You quickly shake your head, clearing the lump that had formed in your throat before you give her a small smile.

“Uh…no worries. I was in an awkward spot anyways, so that’s my fault” you assure her.

She can tell something’s wrong just in the way you’re speaking, and it makes her eye you closely, trying to gauge your expression, eager to figure out what’s made the sudden change in your mood. It makes her frown slightly, eyebrows furrowed as she peers down to watch you before she leans in a bit. “You okay?” She questions softly, her hand coming up to squeeze your arm gently.

The tone of her voice and the hand on your arm makes you want to explode. It makes your head spin and it makes you want to scream at the top of your lungs, because Ellie does not owe you anything! She isn’t your girlfriend, and this is simply two friends catching up after not seeing each other for a long time, and it was absolutely doing your head in that she was speaking to you like that wasn’t the case.

So you give her a smile, nodding quickly as you shake her hand off of your arm. “I’m fine, just a bit flustered with the crowd…um…is this your friend?” You as gently as you gesture towards the girl that was politely standing there as you and Ellie had a moment, not daring to intervene as she quietly sipped on her drink and people watched, as to not make things even more awkward than they already were.

Ellie’s frown deepens when you shake her grasp off, eyeing the way her hand falls from your arm. It leaves a bitter taste on her tongue, not used to this far off, separated feeling that’s settled between the two of you. She wants to dwell on it further, but your question makes her blink out of her confused daze, looking over at the girl standing in front of her.

“Fuck…right, yes. This is Lilac, she moved into town a few years ago” Ellie explains.

Great, even her fucking name was beautiful.

You’re met with the prettiest pair of eyes when Ellie says her name, the girl smiling brightly as she hears Ellie introduce her.

“Ahh no need to be formal, darlin’. Ellie has told me so much about you” she practically squeals out.

You’re a bit taken aback when instead of shaking your hand, she tugs you in for a hug, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close, nearly making you spin your drink. Your eyes widen, using your free arm to wrap around her shoulders and hug her back. You catch Ellie chuckling softly as she brings her drink to her lips, trying to hide her smirk.

Lilac pulls away, pretty glossy lips pulled into a smile as she eyes you, a gentle sigh leaving your lips as she takes you in. “I was wondering when I’d get to meet you…I promise you, I’d hear at least half the town going on and on about you the first month of living here” she giggles out. You smile softly as you nod, taking a sip of your drink before you shrug.

“Sorry about that…I’ve been hiding I guess” you mumble out sheepishly, lips ghosting over the rim of your cup as you desperately try to take in as much of your drink as you could without slugging it down like an animal.

There was no way you’d be getting through this night sober.

Ellie watches as the two of you interact, smiling softly as she takes a sip of her own drink ever so often before she intervenes.

“Lilac works on the daily paper….came in and made it all fancy for us” Ellie chimes in. Her words make Lilac giggle softly, leaning in and pressing her hand against Ellie’s arm, giving her a gentle push.

You try your best to ignore how much that fucking annoys you.

“Oh please. All I did was order in some new printing paper and add pretty fonts. Don’t let her fool you” she chirps, leaning into you with raised eyebrows as she gives you a giggle. You don’t even have time to respond to her before she’s asking you another question.

“I hear you’re from the city…I’ve dreamed of being there all my life, can’t imagine what would bring someone back to a little town like this” she sighs out almost dreamily.

Although there’s no malice or blunt force to her words, you can’t help but take it that way. It’s clear she’s simply making conversation, trying to get to know you better. Maybe it’s the liquor slowly but surely making its way through your system, making you feel looser, making your tongue looser.

“Wasn’t really my plan” you make out, eyes drifting elsewhere as you bring your cup back to your lips.

God….you just wanted to go home.

She doesn’t quite catch the bitter tone in your words, because soon enough there’s an announcement echoing through the bar, and you know it’s time for that friend that Ellie had mentioned earlier to get on stage and perform.

Lilac squeals excitedly, jumping up and down as her hand grips Ellie’s arm, the girl clearly over the moon for whoever it was that was performing.

Great….she knew the guy too?

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, the foreign feeling of jealousy tapping on your shoulder, reminding you of all those intense feelings you’d once had for Ellie. Bringing your cup to your lips to occupy yourself makes you realize the drink was done, making you groan softly.

Your eyes drift over to Ellie and Lilac, both of them enamored with the man that was beginning his on stage. It makes you sigh softly before you lean into them, shouting over the loud music.

“I’m gonna get another drink, you guys want anything?” You barely make out over the loud guitar riff, the both of them denying before they brought their attention back to the musician. With that, you swiftly make your way through the crowd over to the bar.

The second you’re pressed up against the bar, it feels like you can breathe again. Your cheeks felt hot, your chest felt hot, hell, your entire fucking body felt hot. And the worst part of it all, is you could barely decipher the feelings that were plaguing your mind and body.

You sighed softly as you thanked the sweet bartender for the drink. There was enough space at the bar for you to turn around and gaze at the crowd, eyes drifting along the sea of people as you simply sipped on your drink, trying your best to regroup after the entire situation with Lilac.

Because it was weird. All of it was so fucking strange and it was doing your head in. The feeling that sank to the bottom of your stomach when you first laid eyes on them was one you couldn’t recognize. It was rare that you ever felt jealousy in your last relationship, which was honestly something that made you feel quite secure in your marriage. Your wife never truly gave you any reasons to feel that way, her attention always on you, never failing to make you feel like the only girl in the room. Thinking back to all of it, the way your marriage ended was almost comedic.

So seeing Ellie, your ex girlfriend of almost five years, and Lilac, one of the most beautiful girls you’d ever laid eyes on, simply laughing and touching one another as friends do? It made you want to rip the entire building you stood in, brick, by brick.

The thoughts alone make you frown, a gentle sigh leaving your lips as you stare down into the fizzy cup of ice, alcohol and soda in your hand. You felt…so conflicted, so wrong for allowing these feelings to fill you up and make you feel so intensely about someone who didn’t even feel that way about you anymore, and did you even feel that way about her anymore? It was just Ellie. She was your best friend before anything else, so what if she flirts with a pretty girl! You’d be stupid to think she didn’t have other people in her life after you left. What? Did you think she’d simply sit around waiting for you-

But when you finally lift your eyes up to scan the crowd again, what you find brings all of those thoughts to a halt once again.

Because now you’re seeing Ellie’s hand placed on Lilac’s middle, leaning in as the pretty girls lips ghosted along Ellie’s ear, giggling as she whispered unknown words to her.

And that’s when you realized, you couldn’t do this.

You quickly down the rest of your drink, shoving your hand into your purse and grabbing a fistful of money, sliding it over to the bartender and telling him to keep the change in a low voice. You pass the glass over to him, and begin making your way out of the sea of people in the dimly lit room.

You were stupid to think this was a good idea. Your emotions were so scattered, so messy and cluttered in your head. You were going through a fucking divorce, and now you were getting angry over the mere thought of your ex girlfriend standing next to another girl, let alone going further than that. You needed to get your shit together, and if that meant cutting newly mended ties with Ellie, then so fucking be it.

And it’s as if the once crowded bar isn’t able to cover your escape, because you can faintly make out the sound of someone calling for you. You cross your fingers, and hope that it’s someone from high school that just so happens to be there, recognizing you and trying to get a moment with you before you’re able to pounce out of the building.

But unfortunately for you, it’s not. You keep going anyways, hoping that Ellie will drop it or get caught up with someone or something else along the way of her high speed chase for you, but of course, she doesn’t.

You let out a loud sigh when you finally push past the heavy metal doors of the bar, the cool summer breeze wafting against your clammy skin, cooling down your warm cheeks. You hadn’t even realized it before, but you were practically covered in sweat from all the excitement that had washed over you in such a short amount of time.

Ellie is quick to wrap a gentle hand around your wrist, stopping you from running further.

“Hey…where you runnin’ off to? Shows barely even started” she pants out, her own cheeks flushed from pushing and shoving through people to get to you.

The ugly little monster that is jealousy dies immediately when you turn around to look at her. Partially because you know you need to quickly make up an appropriate excuse to your sudden departure, because surely you couldn’t tell her the true reason behind your disappearance…

And also because just looking at Ellie makes you feel whole again.

You let out a gentle sigh before giving her a half smile. “I’m uh…I’m pretty tired and I feel a tad drunk. You and Lilac looked like you were having fun so I didn’t wanna bother…” you explain, ignoring the way the sweet girls name leaves a rather bitter taste on your tongue.

Ellie nods, her expression gentle and understanding as she fishes her keys out of her pocket. “You should’ve told me. Come on, let’s get you home” she affirms with a soft smile, nodding her head towards her car as she begins leading you over.

Her words make you quickly shake your head, stepping in front of her to stop her from getting closer to her car.

“No! No Ellie it’s fine. You were really excited to come tonight and I don’t wanna stop you from having fun so just go back in and-“ you’re rambling at this point, a common habit you’d developed since you could speak. Ellie knew this, because every time you were flustered, or scared, or even happy, your emotions would get the best of you and you’d spew out words like a sprinkler.

So she chuckles softly, bringing her hand up to your arm and giving it a gentle squeeze as if to stop you.

“Slow down, peach” she hums out smoothly. The pet name makes your insides burn, her voice sounding like fucking butter as she soothes you, instantly calming you down and shutting you up just as she wanted.

“There you go…breath” she gives you an encoring nod, paired with another firm squeeze to your arm before she finally lets go, giving you a soft smile before she speaks again.

“I was excited to come out with you tonight. I see that guy perform every Friday” she explains with a soft laugh before she nods her head to her car once again.

“So, let’s get you home and in bed. Your parents would kill me if I let you roam around at night….even though your house is and ten minute walk from here” she shrugs before she presses her hand to the small of your back, leading you to her car without a choice.

It makes you whine softly, throwing your head back like a child as she opens up your door and helps you into the car. You aren’t even that drunk, a bit warm and tipsy, sure, but you were fine to make it home on your own.

However…her warm hand on your skin, paired with the babying, was nice.

Damn her for being so fucking perfect.

A soft huff blows past your pouted lips as she settles into the drivers seat next to you, which makes her snicker as she starts the car. “Quit pouting…it was getting too crowded in there anyways, was gonna suggest we head out right before you tried to ditch me” she shrugs nonchalantly, which earns a playful swat to her arm from your end.

“I was not ditching you! I really am tired” you protest, which only makes Ellie chuckle as she puts her hands up in her defense before she expertly pulls out of the parking lot, one hand on the steering wheel of course.

“Uh-huh….lets get you home then” she affirms as she gives you a wink before she makes her way to your house.

The summer breeze is cool against your skin, the windows down on Ellie’s car, soft music playing through it as you two simply enjoy the comfortable silence that falls between you both. It reminds you of the parties Ellie would drive you both home from, only for her to sneak up to your room with you and pass out in your bed, cuddled up into each other. Sneaking was a stretch, as your parents always knew she’d be spending the night when you two were out late.

The memories make the heart ache, and your throat swell, that familiar melancholy feeling filling you up at the reflection of the past staring at you in a pool of your memories.

You barely realize you’ve pulled in, the gentle hum of the car coming to a stop as Ellie lets her palms fall to her thighs, a gentle sigh leaving her lips as she stares up at your dark home, nothing but the porch light on to greet guests.

“Well…I hope you had fun tonight, peach…” she hums out softly when she finally turns to you, gentle green eyes shining in the dim lighting of her car, barely illuminated by the light beaming down from the moon in the clear night sky.

And you know you shouldn’t do it. You should just thank her for the night out, wish her a good night and go inside your house. You were tipsy, and you were extremely emotional, and you were lonely. All of it was a recipe for disaster, and you knew it.

But somehow, you don’t stop the words that fall from your lips.

“Do you wanna come inside?” You ask quickly, watching as the girls eyebrows raise in surprise at your sudden burst of hospitality. You inhale deeply before you continue.

“It’s late and…the least I could do is give you something to eat, or drink after making us leave early” you explain further, your hand gripping the edge of Ellie’s leather car seat as you stare at her.

When she doesn’t say anything, you feel like an idiot. She’s just staring at you and you suddenly feel like you’ve read into this all wrong, it’s been years! Why on earth would she want to come inside and hang out with her ex girlfriend, she probably has much better things to do.

“I’d love to” she beams out, giving you a bright smile before she opens her car door, gets out, and makes her way over to open yours to let you out.

You can practically feel the weight lift off of your chest when she agrees, a soft sigh of relief leaving your lips as you lead her to your front door, making your way up the steps and unlocking it before letting her in.

Ellie hums softly when you turn on the lights, eyes wandering around the familiar home as you toss your purse onto a nearby hanger, as well as kicking your shoes off near the front door.

She hangs her jacket up on the coat rack near the door like muscle memory right after she shuts the front door behind her, a soft smile on her lips as she watches you make your way to the kitchen and open up your fridge.

“I have water, iced tea, lemonade….” You list off the various contents in your fridge before you look over at the girl behind you, watching as she stands in the middle of your living room. “Water is fine” she hums out with a smile, which you nod and grab for her.

Your home is like a breath of fresh air compared to where you and Ellie where not even an hour ago, the two of you quickly falling into old habits as it takes no more than ten minutes for the two of you to make your way out to your back porch, taking a seat on the comfy outdoor couches your father had added in right before you moved out.

Another guttural laugh passes through your lips as you toss your head back, listening to Ellie catch you up on all the small town mishaps and shenanigans that you had missed, and yearned for oh so much since you'd gone.

"Are you kidding me? They fought over a decade old prom crown? I would have paid big money to see that shit" You gasp out, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye as you finally manage to catch your breath.

Ellie chuckles as she nods, bringing her water to her lips before she shrugs. "I'll tell you one thing, I had no idea those old ladies could move like that" She adds with a snort, ripping another burst of laughs from your sore chest.

You don't catch it, but Ellie simply watches you fondly as you toss your head back and laugh, a gentle smile playing on her lips as you struggle to find the words. It warms her heart even further to know that she was the one pulling that out of you, making you smile so big, laugh so hard.

You groan softly, exhaling tiredly as you place a hand on your chest as if to calm yourself. "Man....I seriously cannot remember the last time I've laughed this hard" You add, a soft, satisfied smile on your lips, unaware as to how sad your words may have sounded.

It hits you when you notice Ellie's gentle frown, the one that she gave whenever she was disappointed or when she knew something wasn't right.

"That's a shame...you used to laugh all the time when you were with me" She says matter-of-factly.

Her words catch you off guard, mostly because it was true. Being with Ellie was filled with nothing but smiles and laughs, the ones that had you keeling over and holding onto your belly as you shed a tear or two, unable to control the laughter that left your body, the happiness that filled you up when she was able to pull it out of you.

You hadn't even realized it, but you were pretty sure the last time you laughed like that, was with Ellie.

You hum softly, staring down at your lap as you toy with the frills of your dress, thinking back to all of those times, wishing so badly you could be that girl again.

Wishing you could live that life again.

It's getting late at this point, the warm summer breeze growing colder the higher the moon rises into the sky. It blows onto your skin, goosebumps littering your arms. You feel it's time to tell Ellie to leave, the air growing heavy as you both sit there in silence, her words hanging between you, begging to be responded to.

When you open your mouth to tell her that you're tired, and that she should probably head home, you're interrupted by the feeling of her calloused fingers gently gripping your chin, pulling you to look into her eyes.

"I....I don't know what happened...or why you two decided to split up..." she mumbles softly, and you know she's referring to your ex wife without even saying her name.

She inhales deeply, pink tongue darting out to wet her plump lips slowly before she speaks again. "But I couldn't imagine ever letting someone like you go....no matter what" she sighs out, her eyes staring into yours intensely.

And suddenly, you aren't you anymore. You are, but....you're a different you. You're the you that's filled with hopes and dreams, the you that wrote in her diary every night about everything she was going to do once she made it, the you that would peek her head out of her window to see her girlfriend standing out on her lawn, waiting to pick her up, take her out, and simply drive with the music on and the windows down, enjoying each others company.

You're the you, that's in love with Ellie.

Her green eyes sparkle like gems in the moonlight, the white light illuminating half of her pretty face, making a lump form in your throat as you struggle to find the words to say. You can feel her hand gently creep up to cup your face, and it makes your skin burn even hotter beneath her touch.

The familiar sound of the wind chimes rings through your ear, transporting you back to that very same night, five years ago when you were splayed out on the lawn that was a mere few feet away from you, kissing and loving on your girlfriend that you adored with all your heart.

Ellie hears them too, her eyes glancing up at them above your head. She chuckles softly, hand still caressing your cheek gently before she speaks. "Haven't heard those since the last time I saw you..." She hums out.

With that, it's as if your body moves itself for you, deciding your faith before you can, because you waste no time in leaning in and pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that can only be described as longing, having gone far too long without feeling the pair that they so desperately wanted pressed up against.

Ellie melts into you almost immediately, her other hand coming up to cup your cheek as she kisses you back passionately. Both of your hands come up to hold onto either of her wrists, keeping her close as you lean further into her, wanting more of the girl.

You need her more than air, easily letting her grip your thighs and tug you down to straddle her lap, your hands going up to tangle themselves in her soft hair. When she finally does break the kiss, her lips are on your neck, and your jaw, and your cheeks, and the corner of your mouth, eager to feel any part of you on her needy mouth as her hands roam your body eagerly.

"Missed you so fuckin' much...my dream girl" She moans out, making you whimper as you tug her hair back, angling her face back up towards yours before smashing your lips against hers.

"Let's....let's go inside...." You moan into her mouth, the kiss messy and sloppy as she nods eagerly before the request has even fully escaped your lips.

You waste no time crawling off her lap and tugging her inside, the two of you giggling and moaning as you stumble over your own feet in a dance of need and desperation, the both of you clearly in need of one another.

Ellie is tugging off her shirt as you two make your way through the door, helping you tug off your dress as she stumbles out of her jeans quickly after.

A pile of clothes leads the both of you to your bed, the girl laying you down and crawling over you, strong hands caressing your soft body, tugging at your bra and your panties, mouthing away at your newly exposed skin.

"You don't know how many times I've thought about this...thought about you like this" she admits, needy hands gripping at your waist, pulling you flush against her half naked body as she kisses up to your lips again, slowly pushing her tongue into your mouth as she groans against you, strong hands massaging your skin, kneading it between her fingers.

You moan into her, nodding eagerly as your hands tug her closer, wanting her as close to your body as possible.

"I have to..." you admit mindlessly.

You don't realize it then, but it's the first time that you've allowed yourself to admit that to someone, even to yourself. Those were secrets that you're buried down so deep into your mind, you weren't even sure they were true anymore.

Ellie was able to pull them out thought.

"Gonna...fuckin' worship you...like you deserve, baby.." she moans out, her lips pressing against your boobs that were spilling out of your bra, nipping and biting at your exposed skin.

But when she says that, it's like all the lights suddenly turned on.

It all comes weighing down on you in an instant, what happened, what you'd been through. Your wife had cheated on you with another woman, she promised you everything, the world at your feet if you asked for it, yet she still threw it all away as if none of it was real, as if none of it mattered.

Who's to say Ellie wouldn't do the same?

Your body goes limp beneath her, and Ellie catches onto it immediately, frowning gently as she pulls away to see her suspicions were confirmed.

"Baby? Hey...you with me angel?" She calls out as she watches you staring up at the ceiling, your eyes glossing over as if you weren't even there.

Because you weren't, you were back in your bedroom, in your apartment in the city, watching the woman you thought loved you back, fuck another woman into your mattress as if she were you.

You weren't ready for this.

"I...I can't do this.." You mumble out, voice cracking as your throat began swelling up from the tears pooling in your eyes.

Ellie is quick to sit up with you, tugging the blankets on your bed up so that you were able to shield your chest from the cold air that circled your room, her hand coming up to your back as she peered down at you, brushing your hair out of your face.

"Sweetheart, what is it? did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?" she urges, desperately trying her best to understand what happened, what caused the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

You feel sick to your stomach, shaking your head as the tears begin spilling out onto your cheeks, keeping the blanket tugged close to your chest as you brush Ellies hands away from your face.

"I can't...you need to leave...please leave!" you sob out, shaking your head as all the images of your ex wife come flooding in.

Ellie frowns deeply as she watches you push her away, shutting her out and putting those same walls up that she could feel even when you were miles and miles away from her in the city.

She knows she can't get through to you, not now at least. So she simply gets up off your bed, tugs on her t shirt and jeans, goes downstairs and walks out of your house, her heart breaking as she hears your sobs echoing through the house, following her as she left you there.

And as you laid there, crying in your bed once again, ugly images run through your mind,

it isn't the thought of your ex wife cheating on you, that hurts, but its merely a dull blade to your side now that you've felt Ellie again, those feelings coming back the second her lips were on yours.

No...it's the thought of Ellie doing those things. It's the thought of her promising you the world and still throwing it away, even after she put a pretty ring on your finger.

Because love is ruined for you now, and you aren't entirely sure you could trust anyone to give it to you again.

Even Ellie.

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff

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livwritesstuff · 1 month

Text

inspired by a conversation i walked past during my commute this morning

Eddie is outside when Steve arrives home from work, sitting on the front porch and waiting for their daughters’ bus to drop them off from school.

“Hey!” Eddie grins as Steve makes his way up the steps, “You’re home early.”

“Last client of the day canceled,” he replies, and he grabs Eddie’s hands to pull him to his feet and into a long kiss.

“I love you,” Steve said when he pulled away, snaking his arms around Eddie’s waist to hold him close, “So much.”

“I love you too, Stevie,” Eddie laughed, “Something happen today?”

“Not really. There’s just this guy – the guy who started at my practice last month.”

“The one you don’t like?” Eddie clarifies.

“Ed – I hate him. He came in all smug and smiling today and looked so thrilled to be there, and someone was like dude, what’s your deal? And he had the audacity to say, my wife is home with two sick kids, so…”

Eddie made a face.

“Like, don’t sound so fuckin’ proud of yourself, man,” Steve continued, shaking his head, “Whatever. Anyways, I looked at his schedule and – get this – he had one client today. At three in the afternoon. So he spent the entire day lounging around the office doing jack shit while his wife was home with a sick baby and toddler.”

“What a prick.”

“Right? Anyways, I just want to make sure you know how much I appreciate you and how you stay home with our ridiculous children while I go to work, and that I’m thinking about you guys all day, and all I ever really want is to be home with you.”

“I know you do,” Eddie tells him, because he totally does. He knows it in the way Steve’s week is about as short as it’s allowed to be, and in the way he always checks in on Eddie when he gets home to feel out the day he’d had and to give him a “night off” if he needs one.

Steve nods, and then he adds, “When I was leaving I made a whole point of saying, like, headed home to spend time with my husband and children who I adore more than anything.”

“Of course you did.”

“Kind of forgot he’s also a licensed and practicing therapist so he totally knew I was being passive aggressive.”

#steve is perpetually cursing the job he still happens to love #otherwise he would have quit the second moe was born #eddie is like: well that’s what happens when you have a *calling* steve-o #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #judgy-steve my beloved

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kykyonthemoon · 1 month

Text

How to babysit a wounded little Hunter

Injured after a mission, you now indulge yourself in his special tender loving care.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader fanfic,

including Caleb, Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, early stage of established relationship

A little heads up: The writer will not take responsibility for any side effect (such as toothache) that might come after reading the fic.

ಇ. Word count: 4k

ಇ. Requested by Wytchie Pie and x

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

You dimly sensed footsteps in the bedroom, and then one side of the bed sank. The acquainted scent and warmth embraced you. A cool hand rested on your forehead. In an instant, the heat in your body subsided.

So as soon as that hand was gone, you seized it.

"Don't go…"

You mumbled in a daze. There was a quiet laugh close to your ear, and then that palm brushed against your forehead again.

"If you don't let go, how can I take your temperature then, pipsqueak?"

You recognized that voice. It was Caleb's. So you acted even more aggressively. You yanked his hand tighter, so much so that his entire body appeared to collapse into the bed, just a little above yours.

"Huh? Aren't you a little too strong for someone who is sick?" Caleb laughed again. The sort of laughter that made you feel considerably better.

"I'm not sick." You were persistent, still. "Just feeling a little sleepy."

Caleb's hand tried to pull away from you. But perhaps he kept it that way on purpose, since given your current state, he would have no problem withdrawing if he truly wanted you to let go.

Caleb's hand patted you a little tenderly. He managed to grab the thermometer with his free hand. He took your temperature, then exclaimed:

"Almost forty Celsius!"

You exhaled heavily, almost a moan. Every part of you felt irritated and heated. Despite this, you dismissed it, saying:

"I'm not... sick..."

Caleb used the chance to release his wrist from you. You opened your eyes slightly and gave him a disappointed expression.

"You have such a high fever, yet still saying you're not sick?" Caleb mumbled, but you caught every word. He handed you medicine, but you did not take it.

"Too bitter." You said.

"Quit whining. "Just take it and go to sleep."

"If I take it… you'll have to stay here with me, okay?"

Caleb sighed. "Only until you sleep, pipsqueak."

You smiled faintly and fast to accept the pills from Caleb's hand. You clutched his hand securely as you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the Wanderers, the escapes, and the secrets in which you were a part of. Then, when you woke up again, you noticed Caleb seated beside the bed.

“You're awake now, pipsqueak?” He smiled at you. He was rather relieved. He put a hand on your forehead again. “Yup. No more fever."

Caleb's presence seemed to chase the nightmares away. You removed his hand from your forehead and held it tightly.

“How long have I been sleeping?”

"Let's see…" Caleb brushed his chin. "When you arrived home last night, you went to bed right away. You got a high temperature around early morning. From the time you took the medicine and fell asleep until now, I've finished a whole movie, cooked a delicious pot of porridge, and measured your temperature three times."

"What nonsense are you talking about?"

Caleb laughed. He squeezed your hand once. "You've just been asleep for a few hours. But it is past noon now. Are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure?" Caleb asked again. "I made a super delicious pork rib porridge for you though."

You opened your eyes wide and looked at him. Pork rib porridge was a dish he would often cook when you were sick and no longer in a mood to eat anything. That dish always helped you feel better, even just hearing about it was enough to make you crave food again.

"Pork rib porridge…"

You could only whisper that much when Caleb pressed the tip of your nose and said:

“I knew right away that you couldn't resist food.”

A minute later, the room was filled with the aroma of a still-hot bowl of porridge. Caleb put it on a little tray over the bed. You lay back against the cushion, staring at the meal in front of you as if it were a rare delicacy, despite the fact that the ingredients were absolutely basic.

You looked over at Caleb. He was observing you. "What's wrong? Still no appetite?"

“It's too hot…” You pouted. “Besides,… both my arms and body are aching…”

It took a quite difficult mission in extreme weather, and a high fever to receive special care at your bedside. How could you not enjoy it?

Caleb read you right away. He said: “What? The Hunter in Linkon wants me to feed her? Weren't you delirious this morning, saying you had to go fight off Wanderers?”

“When did I say that? But it's okay if you don't help me. I don't want to eat anymore.”

“Are you still a three-year-old then?”

Even though he grumbled, Caleb still smiled very gently. He scooped a spoonful of porridge, blew on it to cool down, then held it out to you.

You opened your mouth really wide, making him chuckle. When he saw that you were eating well, Caleb felt relieved. He teased:

"I thought you're a grown-up now and wouldn't need me to take care of you anymore."

You replied, still with a mouthful of pork rib porridge: "When you lose your cooking skills, I won't really need you anymore then."

Caleb laughed aloud. He patted your head and said: "I didn’t expect my vacation to turn into a part-time job for babysitting. If I catch a fever from you, you must take care of me in return.”

You rose up in a sudden and pressed your still-hot face into the crook of Caleb's neck, nearly dropping the porridge spoon.

“Then I’ll cook pork rib porridge for you. Just heads-up though, even if it tastes yucky, you must eat it all!”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

The door to the hospital room opened. Rafayel's curly purple hair appeared. And immediately, your phone lit up with a text message from Thomas:

[The little devil is coming for you. Sorry, I did my best.]

You exhaled. Clearly, he had not done his best. That was why Rafayel was here, staring at you with such a deep gaze from the entrance.

"Er… "Hello, Rafayel..." You waved your arm, attempting to greet him with a warm smile.

"Rafayel?" He frowned. "Do you still remember that we know each other?"

"Huh? Why did you...?" You left your sentence incomplete as Rafayel surged inside. He placed his hands on his hips, his expression filled with slanderous words as he accused you.

"Who are you? Do I know you? It's been eight hundred years. Jellyfishes are walkin' naked. Sea turtles climb trees. Sharks are eatin' grass for free! And finally, you remembered me?"

You frowned. Why was there something that rang so familiar with this scenario? Yet it was still off.

“Rafayel, I—”

“When are you going to tell me you're hurt?”

Rafayel pointed a finger directly to your shoulder, where the white bandage was visible through the hospital gown. That was the real reason he was precisely distressed.

“Even Thomas knew you were injured. Yet you didn't say a word to me?! You left me waiting alone for three hours at the exhibition. I can't believe you stood me up!”

You lifted your hand, intending to remind Rafayel to keep his voice down because you were both in the hospital. But he gave you no opportunity to speak.

"Do you realize how scared I was? When Thomas told me you couldn't come, I thought about all the things that could happen to you!”

"Rafayel…" You finally found a chance to interrupt him. “Let's calm down first. I didn't mean to hide it from you, it's just... I haven't told you yet..."

Rafayel crossed his arms. He was still irritated.

“I can't believe it! You deliberately manipulated me with your innocence so that I would let you get away this time!”

You felt dizzy in the head, and your ears were ringing with Rafayel's nagging words and accusations. The injured one was you. Why did you feel as if you had just committed a great sin?

"ARGHHH!" You shouted and clutched your bandaged shoulder. "It hurts!"

Rafayel quickly forgot the rage in his heart. He moved right away to the bed and gently raised your arm. His eyes were full of concern and anxiety.

“Are you hurt? I'll call the doctor here right away!”

You grasped Rafayel's hand, urging him to stay with you.

“See? I'm still very strong. Just a little hurt."

"How much is a little?" Rafayel frowned. You could feel his hot glare on your shoulder, soaking into the bandage and searing your wound.

"… This much." You clasped your thumb and index finger to form a circle, then held it up for Rafayel to see. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest.

"I don't believe you anymore." He continued to speak with a condescending tone. "I have to check it out with my own eyes."

"Huh? What do you mean?…” You suddenly blushed. Rafayel looked at you with serious eyes, yet very sincere. He replied:

“Your wound. I want to see it."

The mere notion of Rafayel wanting to look behind your garments made your cheeks flame. You withdrew your hand and refused:

“I told you I'm fine… Don't make such a scene…”

“If I don't see it, how can I be sure you're not lying to me? This isn't the first time you've hidden your injuries..."

That was all Rafayel said. You gazed at him for a second. Aside from being concerned about you, he was also saddened since you had repeatedly hidden your wounds from him. A great deal when you did not want to bother him, he always found out and became much more frustrated.

"Alright then…"

Eventually, you had to give in. You turned your back to Rafayel and carefully slipped the shirt collar down your shoulder, displaying the neatly wrapped bandages around your torso.

You could see your reflection in the front window. Your face turned crimson. And Rafayel stood next to the bed, attentively investigating you, his fingers softly caressing the gauze, causing you to bow slightly in pain as well as anxiousness.

“Yet you said it was just a little wound.” Rafayel muttered. It was his hand that drew your collar back up. And the next thing you knew, you were upgraded to the best room at the hospital.

You weren't used to how wealthy people spent their money. You looked at Rafayel, who had constantly been by your side during your hospital stay. He requested you to remain in the most advanced hospital room, with the greatest level of care. More than that, he refused to leave your side even when you asked to be alone.

"You don't have to do this, Rafayel." You spoke as he was peeling the fruit for you.

"Open your mouth." He handed you a slice of mango. Even if your lips stated it wasn't required, you nevertheless welcomed all of his attention.

"I'm serious…" As soon as you finished swallowing the mango, he gave you another slice. "Really, um... This mango is truly delicious..."

"Do you crave anything else?" Rafayel purposely ignored every time you told him he didn't need to stay there all day and night to care for you. Your wound had improved significantly.

“I think I can be discharged from hospital and get back to work now…” You said. “I don't want to bother you anymore…”

"What's that?" Rafayel pretended not to hear you. “I think I heard the sound of abalone porridge just being delivered to the hospital. Let me go grab it.”

You sighed. Another expensive meal he had prepared for you. But you knew how much you would miss these things when you left the hospital at last and could no longer benefit from his tender loving care.

“Maybe I'll stay here one more day... You're spoiling me too much...” You muttered beneath your breath, but Rafayel overheard everything. He pinched your cheek and responded:

“You're staying because of the delicious food, not because of my devoted service? This is so heartbreaking! Then, after you've recovered, I'll make you repay everything. You have to work overtime as my bodyguard too!"

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You crept along the hospital's vacant rear door. You were just hospitalized in the afternoon due to an injury suffered while on job. Even though the doctor advised you to stay for additional examination, you believed the damage was minor. On top of that, the mission was not yet over. You needed to get back to headquarters.

Unfortunately, your escape did not go well. You ran into a familiar shoulder before you could complete the corridor.

"X-Xavier?" You became pale, but not because of the pain. It was only that you were astonished and a little ashamed when caught red-handed.

His look was incredibly complicated, ranging from apprehensive to serious and somewhat furious.

"Where are you going?" he inquired.

You didn't dare to reveal the truth, so you invented an excuse: "Ah... well... The hospital room is quite boring, so I decided to go for a stroll."

"From the back door?"

"Er… I heard the nurse say this is a quicker shortcut to the garden..."

Xavier gazed at you for some time. You clutched your hand tight, terrified that he would not believe that ridiculous excuse. Yet, Xavier nodded at you: "Then let's go together."

Before you could respond, Xavier grabbed your hand and led you outside. It was night time, the wind blew, sending you a slight chill. Xavier took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. That incredibly gentle gesture made you feel more guilty than ever for lying to him.

“Lead the way.” He told you shortly. For some reason, you had the impression that he was in extreme anger over you.

During the stroll, you didn't dare to speak, and Xavier did the same. He strolled close to you, as if keeping watch rather than walking together. You wandered about for a long time, but there was no trace of the hospital's garden anywhere. Xavier continued to follow your every step in such silence. Him being like that evoked even more guilt in your heart.

At last, you couldn't take it any longer and had to confess: "Xavier... Actually... The truth is, I don't know where the garden is..."

At that point, he spoke up and asked: "So why did you leave your hospital room?"

You didn't dare look into his eyes, so you just stammered an explanation: "Ah... My injury is nothing to be concerned about... That's why I... planned to return to headquarters..."

You noticed Xavier's hands clenching into fists. Fearing he'd be upset, you added: "The doctor also said my injury wasn't too serious— Ah!"

Xavier abruptly pulled your wrist, causing the wound on your arm to hurt. He read through your face which was miserable but still faking a smile. His voice turned sharp:

“If I hadn't caught you, would you really have sneaked away from the hospital?”

Your body convulsed in pain, but you were more concerned about Xavier's rage. You said, "I'm sorry... I was wrong... I'll return to the hospital room right now..."

"Good." Xavier responded curtly. Then he quickly leaned down and held you up in the attitude of a princess being carried.

"W-What are you doing, Xavier?"

"Let's take you back to the hospital room." His expression remained frigid, making you both terrified and embarrassed to be carried by him in such a manner.

Xavier did not return to the same path you had taken. Instead, he took you into the front entrance, where many people, including patients and hospital staff, could see you.

"Xavier? You... put me down! "They are looking at us!"

"I want them to see, so they know you intend to escape the hospital and will monitor you more closely."

Your cheeks became scarlet with humiliation. You swore you saw a kid pointing at you and chuckling, "Mom! I want to be carried like that princess, too!"

And you swore you saw Xavier smirking at that.

After an embarrassing journey, you finally arrived at your room. Xavier set you down on the bed. He chose to remain silent with you as punishment for your unsuccessful escape. You saw him sitting in the corner of the room, peeling a red apple for you.

“Xavier?”

You called out, but he didn't look at you and just replied curtly:

“Rest.”

“Are you angry with me?…”

Xavier's silence revealed the answer. You groaned and pulled the warm cover up high, as if to conceal yourself away from Xavier's rage, but he remained as quiet as a cloudless sky.

When he finished with the apple, he brought it over and gave you a slice. "Eat."

You did not enjoy this cold and distant demeanor of Xavier. If he was upset with you, he should have expressed it directly. You knew it was your fault, and he was so concerned about you that he got mad when you lied to him like that.

"Xavier, I'm sorry…" Your hands seized Xavier's wrist, which was clutching the apple slice. Your eyes widened as much as possible, even giving the impression that you were going to cry.

In the end, the ploy worked. His gaze had softened completely. He placed the plate of apples on the bed and used his other hand to elevate your chin a little. He said: "If you know your fault, then obediently eat all of these and rest."

His hand softly separated your lips, and his other hand inserted a slice of apple for you to eat. You were back in the sunshine, coaxing him to sit on the bed next to you.

"I'll give you three days to recover." Xavier spoke, his voice still agitated, but you could feel his boundless care and love.

"Then I shall bother you to watch over me for a few more days!"

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

You had just returned to your private cabin at the icy mountain base when you heard a tap at the door. You answered the door, wondering who was seeking for you at this hour, and there was Doctor Zayne, holding a first-aid kit while standing outside.

“Zayne?” Your eyes caught the blood on his face and neck. Snow adhered to his dark hair. You took a step back and allowed him inside. "Why are you here?"

Your team had accepted the mission of rescuing people caught in an avalanche created by a group of Wanderers on the mountain. You had learnt that a team of physicians from Akso Hospital was also on their way. But you did not expect to see Zayne here.

Zayne set the first aid pack on the table and then turned to you. He went on to say: "I'm here to do my duty as a doctor."

You widened your eyes and inquired him again, "Your duty as a doctor?"

Zayne pointed to your abdomen, which was soaked from your own blood oozing through the gauze you had recklessly covered earlier.

"Oh dear…" You cried out. You were so engaged in battles that you didn't have time to look at your wound. Your head began spinning as a result of excessive blood loss.

Zayne's powerful arms directed and assisted you to the table. He put you to the wooden table and took a chair to sit in front of you.

"Doctor Zayne, what are you going to do?"

You noted this when you found his hand on the hem of your shirt. He seemed to want to lift it up.

"Treating you."

You knew that. But you were still extremely nervous when thinking that he was about to lift up your shirt. So your hand was still securely grasping his, preventing him from moving any further.

“I've already bandaged it. A nurse also helped me stitch up the wound earlier..."

During the turmoil, you recalled being stabbed in the abdomen. A nurse assisted you in stitching it up, but because there were so many others with more serious injuries, you let her tend to them while you put bandages over yourself and returned to the battlefield. Perhaps your clumsiness caused the wound to bleed a great deal more.

Zayne used his other hand to remove yours before pulling your shirt up. The gauze surrounding your abdomen was drenched in blood. He slowly withdrew it as you writhed in pain and embarrassment.

"Try to sit still for a bit, will you?"

Zayne's soothing voice burst out, calming you down a lot. You sat on the table, your hands lifting your body up while you looked down at the doctor who was treating your wound. The fact that you had to display your skin beneath his gaze made you uneasy and desire to cover your face. But Zayne was quite professional. He remained silent and entirely concentrated on his work. He cleansed the wound and applied a new layer of gauze. His warm breath occasionally wafted against your skin, causing you to tremble slightly. Even when his frigid fingers touched you, it seemed like you were being scorched.

"It's done."

Zayne said after fixing the new layer of gauze. You were a little discontent when his fingers left you. You were ready to pull your top back down when Zayne lightly rubbed his fingers against your abdomen.

“Ouch!” Even though the place he touched was not wounded, you were still startled and embarrassed.

“Just checking it again.” Zayne elaborated. He had you sitting on the table, your bandaged abdomen at his eye level. You could feel his stare through the gauze, pausing a bit too long in areas that were not covered by anything.

“Doctor Zayne… Are you done now?”

You attempted to keep your speech cool, but your crimson cheeks could have given you away. Zayne appeared to flash a little smile. You felt the icy sensation of his fingertip on your skin again as he slid it beneath the hem of your shirt, then pulled it back down.

"I am now." He answered while returning the supplies to the first aid kit. "Don't be so reckless next time. You have to care for yourself first before you can save others.”

"Hold on." You stopped him. You altered your position and stared into his eyes. "You always say so, but can you actually do what you say?"

Zayne tilted his head to look at you. You took advantage of the moment and raised his chin to have a better look. He had a minor cut on his forehead, and the blood on his body was most likely someone else's.

"You rushed here to take care of me, while you, yourself, are in this condition."

You spoke. His hand found your wrist.

"I barely got a few scrapes. Not as concerning as someone who rushed into the battlefield with a bleeding stomach."

"Whether the wound is big or small, it can be critical." You stated precisely what Dr. Zayne told you whenever he saw you injured, even if it was only a little cut.

Realizing that he had just tasted his own medicine, Zayne let out a small laugh. Then he tugged your hand, causing you to almost lean towards him. He gazed into your eyes for quite a while.

"So, my doctor, will you treat me?"

You blushed again. Zayne relinquished his hand, allowing you to properly wipe the blood off his face. You had to confess that you were a little awkward, owing to your unexpected closeness to Zayne in such a private and calm setting. He probably could hear your heart racing. He supported your hand which was holding a sterilized cotton pad and said:

"If you want to become a skilled doctor, in situations like this you must be even calmer."

"I'm not as professional as Dr. Zayne." You answered with a little caustic tone. "You were able to treat my wound so calmly just now."

Zayne gazed at you for an instant. His face remained calm, but his eyes were not.

"I'm a skilled doctor. Yet, it doesn’t imply that I wouldn't feel anything while treating the girl I like in such a... condition."

2K notes · View notes

ourautumn86 · 10 months

Text

sick love

perv! ellie williams x fem! reader

pt2

synopsis; you catch your best friend ellie touching herself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns her on even more. if only you knew she had been dreaming about this moment for her entire fucking life and that she has even planned for it to happen…

cw; really perv!ellie, dark themes, somnophilia (if you squint), breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom ellie for the first part but dominant on the end, p in v sex, cum eating, masturbation (ellie), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, slight stalking? (only if you really really squint), hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

‘Use me. Use me...’

Ellie was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really pervert way. Her sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and her, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you’d invited Ellie for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen sleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. She found herself staring for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been sharing, her eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? She didn’t even remember how her panties had gotten that fucking soaked nor how her hand had ended inside her pants, palm slick in precum as her fingers thrusted inside her slick cunt, bottom lip in between her teeth and soft moans and groans scaping her lips. But she didn’t care. She came so hard that night that she swore she saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, she of course felt awkward and embarrassed of herself around you. Masturbating to her sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when she found herself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

She relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against her neck, your tits fully pressed to her chest and whimpers making her pussy drool, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for her to stop as she beat the shit out of them.

She liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of her, she wouldn’t have it. She sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared to get a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up, so she always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to herself. Like it had to be. You were hers, or you’ll be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” her shrugging even when she knew that she was, in fact, the thug. Then, she’d go back to her house and open the last drawer of her desk — which she had under key— and take the same chapstick out of her pocket to push it inside along with the other things she had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

She loved them. She almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… She loved the ones that she stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch she would push against her nose and lick as she fucked herself. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove her crazy.

Another thing Ellie loved to do was take photos of you. She had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. She loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But she also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for her. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. She even had one of you resting asleep on her lap, lips parted and against her clothed cunt. She saved some of them on her wallet in case she ever had to take care of herself when she hung out with you.

She was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to her porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to her cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of her infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case she ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if she ever felt lonely in her empty house. At first, before her infatuation appeared, she would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for her to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now she snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. She had licked her cum out of your fingers when she had used your hand to masturbate, having to hold in her moans and whimpers. Other nights, she would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push her head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as her hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish her head.

She loved it when you played with her hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when she’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at her for using your good conditioner after a pool day. She was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, smelling you on her skin to fuck herself while she showered in your house.

She would stole food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in her mouth. You’d always whine about it, but she never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving her full access to it when you were full.

Ellie considered herself to be a woman with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. She would love to fuck you to her liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call her daddy. She thought of herself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of her numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked her and fucked her, using her like you’d use a fucking toy. She had woken up with a raging orgasm as from her lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was she a pervert? Absolutely. Would she ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

She’d prefer to die with this feelings than ever telling you she loved you. She was just terrified of the thought of you pushing her away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what she thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at her for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that she always bought you, she would come to her house and enter her room with slick coating her thighs. She would pull out of the back of her closet her pussy-shaped toy and her strap and spray one of her pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend her other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for her cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what she’d do, fuck her stupid little toy with her face fully buried on the perfumed one as she imagined you under her, ass up and chest pushed against her bedsheets. Her pace was needy, harsh and deep, the back of the strap bumping against her clit and from her mouth dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making herself cum over and over again when she couldn’t found herself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what she fucked in between whimpers.

She sometimes would leave her house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching her red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there she was, and so were you.

That day she had come with a really painful ache in between her thighs. You’d been sitting on her lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that she had found herself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your friends, laughing with them and jumping on her lap when the jokes were too good. Well, she was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found her hair and slowly massaged her scalp, every now and then pulling at her hair when you played with her locks, her hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from hers— thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using her. The fact that she felt used by you and only you, was what had her gritting her teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Ellie was a good girl, so she just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of her mouth. She felt like breathing once again when you got up from her lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when she no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against her.

“Fuck, y/n…” she whimpered when she plopped on her bed, her palm pushing hardly against her pulsing and aching cunt, precum staining her jeans and underwear. She had pulled out from her closet her fleshlight and strap, since she felt that her hand would not be enough today. She had to fuck herself. “Please, fuck me, please…” she was a babbling mess when the tip pushed inside the lubed toy and her clit rubbed against the strap. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” she found himself whimpering at her mind scenario, in which you would ride her relentlessly, her dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over her cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” she was a babbling mess, her hips rutting upwards against her hand movements to fuck her cock deeper in the toy.

“Els!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened her unlocked front door. Ellie always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a film she had been dying to watch for months and for which she had cried after finding out that it had been banned and would never get to the town’s Film Store. After seeing just how badly she wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from her. “Ellie?” you called out again, the soft sound of her voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving her a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching her room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was she with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Ellie fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked her for years on end, since the first time that she held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But she never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, in the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that she had to be just what she was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached her slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was she fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’ve taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out she was not fucking anyone but herself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as her hips fucked upwards, inside her pussy-shaped flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from her lips new groans and moans fell. Ellie was fucking touching herself, desperately rubbing her cunt against the strap, slick on her thighs. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

She looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, eyebrows pushed together as her head fell back against her pillow, hair messy all over it. Her hand was slow, pushing the toy down on her cock in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see just how long and thick it was, her thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” her voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bit down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Ellie was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because she had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Ellie’s movements stopped, her gaze moving to her opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and tape in hand.

She quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under her breath when she sat up, a pillow hiding the strap, clit throbbing at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” she didn’t even know what to say. You had caught her, caught her fucking herself with her goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught her moaning your name. She felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught her… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at her while she pleasured herself. She had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” she cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and hole twitching under the pillow, leaking against her thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making her head snap back to you, a frown on her face, eyes widening when you let the film fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to her bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to her lap when she pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that you would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as you fuck yourself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” she stuttered as she shook her head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping her chin so her eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” she moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and she whimpered, your pussy clenching when she shook her head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against hers, teasing her to get out of her what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled her hair when she tried to kiss you, making her groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” she pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on her lap.

“Only good girls get a kiss, Els.”

“I��m a good girl…” she was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” she nodded, her tongue dampening her lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered her almost naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” she shivered when your lips latched to her neck, your tongue pressing against her skin in open mouth kisses that led to her ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” she moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as she nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as she pushed the pillow off her lap, pussy twitching and thighs soaked in slick.

In the state she was… She would do anything for you. She would even fuck herself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

She moaned when you sat down on her desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. Her hands were shaking when her fingers gripped around the clear silicone or her toy, whimpering when she noticed your eyes on her strap.

It was big —if not massive—, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew she could give it to you, that she would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on the shaft with your tongue and take it so deep on your throat you’d whimper at the pain of your jaw. “Aw, poor Ellie…” you cooed at her. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” she nodded, tears on her eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Els?” she moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to her reaction. She liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” she muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing her cum making her go crazy. She whined when and tortured her bottom lip with her teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for her to see. “Fuck…” she cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

Her pussy was drooling like crazy with every new and fast thrust of her hips, pleads falling off her lips with every brush against her clit. ‘I need you. Need you so bad, y/n…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when she nodded, chuckling at her behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” she whimpered when you had made your way back to her side, standing in front of her and making her head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on her hair, making her hips stutter and breathy whines rip her throat. “Hold it. I haven’t told you to cum yet.” she cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and she had to squeeze the toy and stop her movements to not come when you pushed your damped panties into her mouth, slicked crotch flat against her tongue. Her muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, her eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when she could take a taste on just how sweet you were. She choked on the lace when you startled her legs. Her eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for her to see, thin strips of slick connected them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of her neck to suck a hard hickey on her flesh as you pushed aside her strap, exposing her swollen and reddish soaked pussy.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, her hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to push you down on her and cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when her white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, her mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on hers. You hummed as you stroked her hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across her chest. She was still fucking horny. “Good girl…” you cooed, placing the strap back on top of her cunt, loving just how fucked out she seemed. She moaned when you sat on her cock, its length in between your wet folds and the tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” she cried out with your panties on her mouth when you rocked your hips against hers. That’s all it took for her to cum for a second time, right after her first orgasm. You were gonna fuck her, shit, you were gonna fuck her cock…

You moaned, feeling her nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy against the silicone due to the amount of slick that coated it. “You came again, baby?” she nodded, moaning due to your humping, overstimulating her clit. “Fuck, Els…” you pulled your panties away from her mouth, wanting to hear her groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.” you were fucking soaked for her.

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from her lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled her bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when she leaned in, pupils blown and need on her green thin irises. She looked high. And she was, high on her favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when she had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, her hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, her hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on her hair as she played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering her lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which she quickly discarded away on her bedroom floor. She pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on her pillow —the same she had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. She moaned, pussy aching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for her.

She didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which she took her time with, and of course she would, she had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on her hair. “Ellie…” you whined when she bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. She was so drunk on your skin… She could spend her whole life kissing it that she would never get fucking tired of it. But her teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed her mouth on it now. And she seemed to get it when you pushed her further against it, her hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above her shoulders as she sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when her tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, her due to just how much she had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which she had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with her mouth in mind. Her name falling off your lips on a whimper had her hips rocking against the duvet as she ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when her fingers found their way to your entrance that she started to eat you just like you needed and she always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming her name when her fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving to hit your g spot as her tongue circled your clit. It was just then when you understood the rumors that went around in your highschool about her mouth. Ellie knew how to use it, really well. So well that she had you tipping the edge in less than ten minutes. She was like a starved woman, burying her face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in her tongue. “Fuck, Els, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on her hair. She knew you were close by how moans fell of those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Ellie crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

She moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when her tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Ellie drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled her bedroom.

You mewled when once you’d come down from your high, her tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on her wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called for her. She whimpered when you tugged on her hair, pulling her away from your pussy as you sat up. She looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” she begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on her mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to her strap, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where she had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took it in your hand, making her bite down on her lips.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Els.” you said, your other hand coming to her cheek to rub the flush on her skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” her hole twitched to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped her face left her to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for her to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” her eyes rolled to the back of her head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Ellie? Where do you want to cum, baby?” she was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling off her lips as she leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” she found herself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering her the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had her reeling. If only she could really cum inside, she’d make sure to do it over and over again until your belly would swell.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against her lips, her nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with her own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave her a sweet smile when she moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of her mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Els.” she was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive her there, hands on her neck when she leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which she didn’t even need since you were now entering your tongue in her mouth, making her groan. Fuck, she could come just with that. With your tongue in her mouth, your body against her and the thought that you were only letting her fuck you to seek your own release. She moaned on your open mouth when you took her dick to align it with your entrance. You needed her, and you needed her now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Ellie, please, please…” you whimpered, and she didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as she bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit.” she was struggling to move at how hard your walls were swallowing her. Your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving her full access to your neck, which she kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. She was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. Her stretch had you delirious, her tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of her back, making her groan. The two of you were taking your time, her letting you get used to the feeling of her heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. She groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against her. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl for me and let me use your cock, alright?” she whimpered at your words, and in less than one second she had you gripping to her back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Ellie, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

She was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. Her hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on her cock, just as desperate as her. She was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” she was a mess. Both of you were. Her thrusts had you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in her. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrusts, making your nails dig up on her back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Ellie, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on her ear, making her fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” she begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over her dick as she fucked you dumb, her hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was her name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Ellie, Ellie, Ellie…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” her thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before she finally came. She was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting the back of her strap and her thighs.

“Shit, fuck, Ellie. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness as she had stilled up to the base inside of your swollen and used cunt. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Ellie!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against her pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when she pulled you up from your ass, her cock ramming inside of your soaked pussy. You cried out when her hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in her voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how her mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Ellie had you cumming so hard on her cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around her dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

a/n; I NEEDED TO OKAY? I NEEDED TO MAKE A SICK LOVE ELLIE VERSION SORRY!! 🩵

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anantaru · 9 months

Note

neuvillette eats pussy to distress

cw. oral (fem! receiving), you're a lil bratty, fem! reader

what comes out of your mouth are nothing more than short-planted whimpers, little, hesitant cries, and then a filthy moan of neuvillette's name, but you tell yourself that you do not want to give him that certain satisfaction he had longed for all night— and you sneakily trace along his scalp with your trembling fingers, he hisses when you tug on his roots, then whines into your pussy when you do it again, eyes growing wide at your fine-drawn pursue.

"there certainly is no need to hold yourself back for me." he suddenly claims and it has you avert your eyes, the way he had phrased it was almost a little too detached and apathetic to your own liking— almost as if he didn't take this whole thing serious and believed that he gave in, just for a second, in one of the lewd, obscene pleasures of human kind, before adding, "because you do, in fact, hide your voice."

"am i correct?"

"i don't!" sweet sweet liar, because you do, you've been blocking them out this entire time, "maybe you're not as good— fuck, as you think you are!"

the man laughs, a little aloof, and evidently, neuvillette was aware on what he was capable of doing to you and his fingers are cool and persistent in fucking in and out of your little hole, and despite it being only a digit, not even fully in, your toes curl and your legs clasp around his head when he adds his tongue, it has your sticky slick pooling between the folds of your cunt and merging with his spit, fuck, acting as if he didn't bring you unrecognizable pleasure was harder than you originally thought.

especially since he appeared to be exceptionally fatigued and certainly used your body as a way to distress from day to day work— for him, this type of work life balance was the most sufficient one.

neuvillette slides his warm tongue up and down your pussy in long swipes when you shiver at the mere sight of him doing so, feeling like everyone in the giant building can hear what's happening to you right this second, more so know who is pulling those lewd noises out of your sore throat.

your glowing eyes, in a sudden haste, spring open when you feel how he languidly spits on your cunt, once, twice— so you're wetter for him, he claims you taste better that way, lubricating you so he can drag his tongue into you faster, just like you so desperately wanted him to, yet in secret, you'd never tell him that— while, the chief justice most definitely preferred it if you're adequately messed up whenever he comes to see you, your exposed core luminous, hole clenching around his digits and you swear you can feel him smirk faintly, although he wasn't a man of great emotions, while proceeding in this particular task, he couldn't possibly suppress this feral, animalistic desire housing deep inside his chest, rumbling and aching for a possibility to escape.

the twist in your stomach builds up quickly, quicker than you initially had anticipated, "how— how, fuck!" you manage to say, "how are you so fucking good at this?" and your fingers find themselves wounding in his hair, holding onto him for your dear life when a tremor of cold shivers crossed over your figure when he groans into your pussy by the nature of your rough tugs on his scalp, his breath hot and wet when it ghosts over your soaked folds.

"there they are." he moans into your cunt, not giving a single flying fuck if his face was slicked up in your juices, as said, he adored making a mess, "those noises i've been looking forward to."

at last, when he adds another finger into your hole and curls them up, the tightened thread in your stomach snaps in half and you shake violently while pinned down with one of his arms strongly locked over your stomach, with a cry of his name, that you originally preferred to stay hidden in your throat, your loud moans tumble and bounce from your lips to his ears as you cum all against his mouth so he could finally taste you.

but the long-rooted waves of your pleasure have not dissipated as he continues to flick his tongue over your clit, your slick by now basically coating the entire lower half of his face, his eyes fixated on nothing but your addictive, more so intoxicating expressions— you knew neuvillette wouldn't stop, there's no such thing as leaving a case half finished, he had a habit of prolonging your orgasm until you're overstimulated to the hilt, always, whenever he had you under him, it's his way of fucking you, until you're nothing but satisfied, such as he was whenever a trial ends with no complications.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #genshin impact neuvillette x reader

5K notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 9 months

Text

Margaritas and Mistakes pt. 2

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader

Genre: Smut, just filth really, nothing else. 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Summary: The morning after your night out you wake up and have to come face-to-face with the consequences of your actions. You find you quite enjoy those consequences though.

Warnings: Suggestive BDSM themes, soft!Dom Spencer (I'm a simple woman), daddy kink, dry humping, dirty talk, oral (F receiving), vaginally sex, multiple orgasms, over-stimulation, degradation, name-calling, pet names (baby girl, princess etc.), unprotected sex (no creampie).

A/N: Here's the much anticipated part two for yesterday's fic. Thank you for being patient everyone, and sorry to tease you all by having this completely written before pt 1 was even published but sometimes the anticipation only makes it better lol... Hope you will forgive me 🙏 ALSO! I hit 300 followers on this account yesterday, and I just want to say a massive thank you to everyone who has supported my writing here thus far! I can't do anything to celebrate as I'm on holiday for the next few days but thank you so much ♥️

Check out Part One!

Requests are open, and in the meantime please check out my masterlist!

When you woke up; that morning, you could instantly feel something was different. Not wrong, just different.

It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, in fact the way the quilts laid on top of you kept you almost deliciously warm in your bed. It wasn’t the general mess of the night before either, as, surveying the room with one half cracked eye, you noted that all your discarded clothes seemed to be either neatly stacked away in the corner or perhaps left in the laundry hamper in your bathroom. The curtains were open, which you guess was somewhat of a change, but you honestly forgot to close them at least twice a week, so that wasn’t what it was.

You left out a quick yawn and decided whatever it was wasn’t as important as sleeping off the absolute killer headache that was currently burning a hole in the back of your head, a constant thumping that you wanted to do your best to avoid for now.

It was when you snuggled back into your sheets and attempted to turn over to find a new position that you realised exactly what it was that was wrong. You weren’t alone.

Cursing yourself for drinking so much you stayed as still as possible, as the man in bed next to you groaned in his sleep and seemed to pull you in tighter to his chest. You weren’t exactly complaining, but you couldn’t help the panic forming in your mind, as you absolutely had no recollection of bringing anyone home.

Scratch that, you had no recollection of getting home yourself at all.

Whoever it was, it was evident that he’d at least somewhat taken care of you. You couldn’t feel the mascara you’d worn last night glueing your eyelids shut, so obviously one of you had had the foresight to remove your makeup, and you honestly doubted it was you. The fact that you were wearing pyjamas, too, was probably a more positive sign. If you did have sex with the man, he’d most likely encouraged you to put clothes back on so you didn’t catch a chill in the night.

And boy did you hope that you had gotten lucky with whoever it was at your back last night. You couldn’t see his face obviously, with your back pressed up against his entire body, but you could feel him and he felt delicious.

He was long, and lean, but you could feel some strong muscles underneath as well. Even in sleep, he had a strong grip on your waist, the pressure of it pulling you back so your ass was directly in line with his crotch. You were almost tempted to shift slightly, to see if it’d give you a few more ideas about who your mystery man could be.

The best thing about him, thus far, however, was his scent. You knew that after drinking all of the alcohol you remembered ordering last night - and perhaps more that you didn’t remember - you absolutely didn’t smell that hot. And after a night of partying and dancing, too, you could almost feel the winter sweat sticking to your skin. Your bedmate, however, smelt absolutely fucking amazing. He had a musky, earthy scent, but it didn’t seem artificial. It felt warm and homely and all you wanted to do was turn around and nuzzle into his neck so you could breathe him indeeply.

But you had no fucking clue who this was, and you were coming up with blanks as to where you could’ve picked him up.

“Think, Y/N, think for once,” you whispered to yourself, chastising yourself for going shot for shot with Emily of all people.

You remembered being in Penelope’s apartment listening to Emily talk about her love of chardonnay, and you remembered the girls promising to find you a man that night. They’d obviously succeeded, but at the cost of your entire memory of the situation.

You thought a little harder again, back to sitting at the table and your stupid little game of fuck, marry, kill where you’d amitted your growing attraction to your office’s resident genius, and then downing a probably near fatal amount of shots to inspire your friends to forget they heard anything, and then… And then it all goes blank.

So you had no clues as to who your mystery man could be, and you didn’t want to risk waking him just to find out. In a last ditch effort, you cracked your eyes open again and reached out for your phone, sitting prettily on your nightstand, plugged in and charging. Whoever this man was, he was a saint, because if you couldn’t remember getting through the door, you definitely didn’t put your own phone on charge.

Trying not to stretch too much, you grabbed the phone and bought it as close to you as possible, shielding your bedmate from the light coming out of it. You immediately opened the messages, and your stomach dropped at what was waiting for you there.

Emily: I TOLF U I WAS A GR8 WING WOMAN!!1! When you two make baby ggeniuses, dont say I dind’t tell you so.

Penelope: Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Which is admittedly not a lot, but still!!!

JJ: Remember to take advil in the morning, I’m sure Reid will remind you as well, but you drank a lot tonight, and you never know when we’re going to get called in 🙂

The messages didn’t give you much of the context you needed, especially the ones sent by Penelope and Emily, but there was enough there to work out that you had majorly fucked up. And the sound of his groans from next to your ear told you that you only had around thirty seconds before your theory was tested and your mystery man woke up.

“Mornin’” came the voice from behind you, and if it were possible your heart started beating even faster. It was him.

“Reid! Good morning!” You tried to keep the curiosity and anxiety out of your voice, as you finally turned over to look at him. His sleepy face was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. His hair fell in small waves into his face and you had to stop yourself from brushing it behind his ear for him. There was a five o’clock shadow forming on his face that you’d never seen before and the scruff really suited him. His most distracting feature, however, was his lack of shirt. And the many small love bites that were now forming on his neck.

“How’s your head this morning? I was going to try to get you to take something for it last night, but you wouldn’t let me.”

“Oh my head? It’s fine, totally fine. Nothing to worry about there. Totally not pounding.” You groan and he cracks a smile at your attempt to downplay your self-injury. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer somehow, and you almost panic, ready to place your hands on his chest and push him away, but you’re not quite ready to admit that you don’t remember exactly what you did or didn’t do the night before so instead you push your hands up to his neck and play with his hair.

“Are you going to ask or do you remember?” He smirks down at you, rubbing small comforting circles into your back. You let out a small sigh, a goodbye to those few blissfully peaceful moments.

“Ask what? Ask if I remember climbing into bed with my coworker and leaving some quite pretty marks on his neck or ask if I actually got further than my fantasies have in the last month?” You trace your hand down his neck, stopping at a rather red patch where you can still see some trace of your lipstick from the night before.

“Ask whether or not I’m going to be fair and tell you what actually happened, or keep you in the dark and let your imagination keep running wild.” He lifts his body up, and rests on his side, his arm propping his head up.

You make a sound of protest and attempt to follow his movement but his free hand holds your hips down with a soft pressure, holding you there less with strength and more with the weight of your own curiosity at whatever it is his body is suggesting.

“You begged me last night you know,” he starts, leaning down and whispering it directly into your ear. “To stay. To fuck you like a desperate little whore.” Your legs pushed together now, a sorry attempt to curb the growing need pooling between them, but he didn’t let up.

“You pushed me down on the bed when I didn’t do what you wanted, like a little brat. So drunk out of your mind that I couldn’t touch you, but begging for it like you would die if I didn’t hold you down and let you scream my name.” The hand on your hip moved up and under your pajama shirt, a rather flimsy thing that did nothing to stop his oncoming conquest of your body.

“You made me promise something, you know?” He says just as his hand reaches one of your nipples. He pinches it, hard, as you throw open your mouth in a near silent gasp. Your hips buck involuntarily, and suddenly one of his legs is between yours, pinning you down again so you can’t move as he keeps his attention on your chest.

“Made me promise I would stay and not let you forget. Promise that, when you woke up in the morning, I’d fill you in on everything you did, everything you asked for.” He keeps his voice as low as a whisper and you can feel his breath on your neck, the contact sending a shiver down your spine, arching your back and pushing your breasts further into his hand.

“S-Spencer-” you beg with just that one word for more. But he stills his hand and moves it out from under your top.

“But if you remember, then we’re finished here right. I can go?” He looks down at you, pouting now and you hesitate for a second before answering him.

“I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything, so please…” you don’t quite know what you’re begging for at that point, but if you’d filled him in on any of the jucier details of your fantasies as of late, then you were in for a very fun morning.

He shifted his weight again, this time pushing your hips together, and holding his chest up with his arms stacked on either side of your head, you looked up at him again as one of his hands came down and encouraged your leg to wrap around his waist, allowing him to push even more of his weight down into you.

His head moved back to your ear as he began rocking his hips tantalisingly slowly into yours, dry humping into you.

“At first, you didn’t even know it was me. Just fell back into whatever body you thought would pay you the most attention. Rocked yourself back into me on the dancefloor, right where anyone else could see what a little whore you were being.” Despite the layers of clothing that separated you and the torturious pace, you felt your arousal growing by the second as you listened to him recounting the events of the prior night.

“And even when you realised it was me you didn’t fucking stop. Kept teasing me and playing with me in public, in front of our friends.” He growled a little bit then, obviously still angry about your actions the night before. You were bucking your hips up to match his movements now, teetering close to the edge of an orgasm. He hadn’t even really touched you yet, and you were like putty in his hand, ready to be molded into whatever shape he wanted you in.

“I drove you home, kept my hands off you, I was perfectly ready to let you forget the entire thing, but you couldn’t keep your mouth shut could you.” His hand was on your ass now, encouraging you to keep up your pace and deepening the contact between the two of you. You could feel his entire length pressed into you, and you wanted it inside you.

“Told me you wanted me to slam you against a wall and finger-fuck you, wanted to be my cheap little whore, wanted me to use you,” he groaned into your ear and bit down on your neck a second later, and you moaned, the pain and pleasure mixing together deliciously.

And then he stopped, pulled away and rolled off of you, and you cried out at the loss of contact when you were so close to your release.

“What is it, baby? You want more?” He smirked from his new position, sat up on the opposite side of the bed, just far enough out of reach that you had to crawl over to him.

And so you did. So desperate for the man, you climbed into his lap, and begged him for any reciprocation with your moans as you began grinding down on his leg again.

“Does my little slut want to cum?” He asked, his hands placed firmly and flat on the bed sheets either side of him, leaning back softly to watch your attempts to entice him into touching you again.

“Get off and strip down to your panties,” he demanded, and you happily complied, not caring where the offending pieces of clothing landed before jumping back into his lap. Apart from his lack of shirt, he was still in all of his clothing from the night before, a pair of loose sweatpants and boxers, and you relished the feeling of the fabric against your legs as you wrapped your legs back around him.

“I want you to use my leg to get yourself off baby, do you think you can do that?” He asked you, and you immediately nodded your head, desperate to start, but his hands on your hips stopped you.

“Use your words baby, answer me nicely.”

“Yes, fuck, yes I want to do that, please,” you whimper and he loosens his grip a little bit.

“Yes, daddy,” he demands and your eyes shoot up to his. Seeing that he is completely serious you feel yourself only growing more aroused as you stutter out another reply.

“Yes, please daddy.” He smiles at you again now and lets go of you completely, resting his hands on the bed again. Your hands come up to his shoulders and you begin your movements. You push your chest directly against his, desperate for some of your bare skin to be met with his, your aching nipples rubbing up against the plains of his chest in a near perfect way. You grind down into his thigh like its a lifeline, your every attempt to set an even tempo foiled by your absolute desperation to reach your climax.

He keeps talking to you throughout, mixing the sweetest of affirmations with the most disgusting insults, both driving you more and more crazy as the minutes tick by.

“Look at this disgusting little puddle my little girl has left on my pants. You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you my sweet little whore?” You moan out a reply, but he wants your words again. Delivering a painful slap to your ass he asks again, and this time you eke out a reply.

“Yes, daddy, I’m a nasty little whore, I want you so badly, daddy.” You whimper, the words and the shock of the slap bringing you ever-closer to your first release. Your arms are wrapped around his back now, scratching and marking him as if to claim territory, each one of his sharp-intakes at the pain driving you closer and closer until you finally feel yourself fall off the edge.

“So good for me baby,” he presses a kiss to your temple as you collapse into his arms, breathless from all of your hard work.

“I didn’t even have to touch you, and look at you. Looking like a fucked out whore, just for me baby girl," he whispered into your ear as he lifted you up, gently laying you back down on the bed.

“You think you can still do some more, baby?” He asked, and you nodded. This time it was enough for him, because he instantly shed the rest of his clothes and moved between your legs.

“You look so beautiful like this, baby. Gonna take care of you okay, just relax,” he kissed the words into your neck and started trailing kisses the entire way down your bosy. He paused briefly to show your breasts some attention, swirling his tongue around one nipple while he teased, pinched and pulled the other one, eventually switching to give them equal love.

But he didn’t stop at your breasts, pressing kisses down the length of your stomach before reaching your panties again. He looked up at you from his position before pulling them down your leg, making sure that your entire attention was devoted to him. He didn’t have to try hard, as your thoughts had been filled with him ever since he’d woken that morning, and you found you were quite content for it to stay that way forever.

He lifted your hips and slipped the offending piece of fabric down your legs. You shivered at the loss of contact at first, the sodden lace having been stuck to you after your desperate movements earlier. You were bare for all of five seconds before he dove into you, nudging your clit with his nose while he pressed kitten licks against your slit. You moaned out, not caring about controlling your volume, and didn’t stop as he continued licking and kissing like he was a man starved.

His tongue eventually made its way up to your clit and that’s when you lost it, bucking your hips wildly up into his mouth in a desperate attempt to use his face to get yourself off, but one of his large hands pinned you down again. He didn’t let up, rolling your clit around his tongue, bringing his other hand up to press a finger into you, beginning to pump in and out.

You didn’t even feel the build up this time, just closed your eyes as your hips jerked up once, twice into his face, not even a breath escaping your lips for what felt like an eternity as he let you ride through your second orgasm. He didn’t stop, but he removed his mouth from your centre, his fingers still pumping into you as you began twitching underneath him.

“Good girl, so fucking good for me. You’ve got one more left, right baby? One more left to give me, hmm?” He asked, but you couldn’t answer anymore, just nodding your head as best you could and bucking into his hands like a woman gone mad.

“Perfect baby, open your legs wide for me, okay?” His voice was gentle now as he gave his cock a few pumps, removing his fingers and flipping you onto your knees, putting you in the perfect position for him.

“You have to tell me if you want me to stop, okay princess? Tell me if it’s too much and we can end this right here,” he gently pulled the hair away from your face and pressed a final kiss to the back of your neck, finally lining his cock up with your glistening hole.

Then he’s finally pushed into you, and you could've sworn you saw stars. He fully sheathed himself inside of you and didn't move for a minute, choosing instead to press small kisses against your neck and back whilst you adjusted to his considerable length. He didn’t have to wait long though, as you could feel yourself practically dripping around him, making even more of a mess of your sheets.

He picks up a steady pace, pulling out halfway and then snapping his hips back into you with such force you’re grabbing your pillows with a vice grip. You tried to push your head back down into the pillow to soften your moans as well, but he grabbed you by your hair, wrapping it around his wrist, using his new leverage to pull you back onto his dick with each stroke.

“Wanna hear you baby girl, don’t fucking hold back,” he grunted into your ear, the new angle of his hips hitting that deep spot within you that had you flooding the sheets almost instantly, pushing out wave after wave of cum as you moan his name like an animal driven mad.

“That’s right baby girl, fucking cum around my cock, get it nice and wet,” he continues pounding into you, pulling out more and more of his length each time to hit deeper and deeper each time he returns to you. Your legs were practically shaking then at the overstimulation, your tongue hanging out of your head as you failed to form any coherent thought except “yes.”

His hips start faltering quickly and you knew he was close. A few more snaps of his hips and he pulled out of you completely with a small curse, shooting his load up your back as he released his hold on your hair gently. He collapsed on top of you, his arms around you as he kissed his way up your spine.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, the only sound that of your ragged breaths as you both attempted to catch your breath. After a few minutes he pulled away, and you heard him retreat to the bathroom. He came back swiftly with a washcloth and cleaned the two of you up, wiping his cum from your back and chest and doing his best to clean up your cunt without overstimulating you even more.

“Baby, we have to go to the bathroom now, you need to pee,” he gently turns you over and you whimper at the movement. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and you push yourself up to a sitting position next to him, unhappy that he’s being so responsible now after possibly ruining you for other men forever.

“You’re going to have to carry me, you know,” you grumble, resting your head against his shoulder. “My legs are still shaking like I’ve just walked a thousand miles with no rest.”

He chuckles at that and wrapped your legs around him, picking you up swiftly. He didn’t move immediately, just content to have you in his arms for a few seconds. You looked down into his eyes and you felt it too. Like you’d never want to be anywhere else but right here, in his arms. You pressed a gentle, sweet kiss to his lips and you felt his smile as he returned it.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s not the first time I’ve had to force you into the bathroom and I doubt it will be the last,” he laughs, and you laugh with him. And in that moment you realise that he has you for life.

--X--

🏷️: @ihavenotitlesblog @gibbsgirl7 @beefyboisbeefybongos @bluecandycake @piecsesrising @dim-i-try @simp4f1 @marylovesevanpeters @daddy-dotcom @alondralolll @thearsonistrat @eddiemunsonssweetoltatties

(I know some of you didn't ask to be tagged but you asked for a pt. 2 so thought it couldn't hurt, lmk if you want to be untagged!)

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #maturereiding #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fandom

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writerpeach · 5 months

Text

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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arachine · 1 year

Text

— ❝on this fateful night...two hearts danced.❞ ˚₊✩‧₊

ᥫ᭡ pairing :: neteyam sully x human! reader

ᥫ᭡ synopsis :: in omaticayan culture, a young na’vi male does not yet become a full fledged adult until he passes one of two rites of passage: 1) choosing an ikran, and 2) carving a bow from the wood of Hometree (and/or choosing a woman). reader is now 20, and the only man she’s ever loved is expected to choose a wife soon. one day when she overhears a rumor concerning neteyam and the first woman in line to betroth him, reader is struck with grief, ultimately venturing off deep into the forest where she knows nobody will follow her—somewhere forbidden. however, unbeknownst to her, a certain someone follows her trail…

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: 18+ (explicit sexual content, explicit language), angst, fluff

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: characters aged up to 20, use of alcohol, inebriation, size kink (kinda), vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), male masturbation, overstimulation, riding (no penetration), m/f ejaculation, squirting…i took some things out but i think that’s it?

ᥫ᭡ notes :: what a long week this has been…but we made it! i cannot believe the first thing i post after being on hiatus for months is blue alien sex. anyway, i hope you all enjoy. also, be mindful that the dialogue switches between formal and casual. it’s something that i noticed neteyam and kiri do a lot in the movie. for what reason? idk…but the big font after the read more is intentional bc ik some ppl complain that the small font hurts their eyes :3

ᥫ᭡ word count :: 7.2k

— playlist :: spotify link

“You have been wandering off by yourself a lot lately…”

There goes that attentiveness, you could never put anything past her—Kiri, that is. She was just too good (to a fault), and though her keen eye and emotional intelligence were extremely useful, they were also the most aggravating traits about her.

Now, you could just tell her the truth about the place you’re always wandering off to, and you also could confide in her about the thing that’s been plaguing your mind recently—but you don’t, because you know better.

For a split second, though, you hesitate telling her. The lean girl tilts her head, eyes flitting between your face and the satchel in your hands. Smoothly, you pull the satchel across your body and shift it to rest behind you—out of sight.

Kiri seems to notice your apprehension, and so, she peels her eyes from the bag, offering you her full attention by resuming eye contact once again. If she has even the slightest hunch that you’re hiding something, she doesn’t voice her suspicions.

“Well, I won’t pry, sister. You know that I am always here to listen,” she reassured, reaching out a gentle hand towards your face. You let the tips of her fingers graze your cheek, the warmth of her hand providing transitory comfort.

The two of you exchange sweet smiles before you pull away. It was getting dark, and the longer you stayed here, the harder it’d be to avoid the very thing you were trying to get away from—the very person you were trying to get away from.

“I know, Kiri,” you grabbed her hand, encasing it between your own, “I know…but—I have to go. I promise I’m alright. I’ve just…been doing some thinking, and I think I gotta sort some things out with myself before I can be around the rest of you, you know?”

There’s a silence between the two of you, and you’re not exactly sure if she’s taken offense to what you’ve just said, or if she’s carefully choosing her words. You decide on the latter though, because the last thing you want to do is make her feel as if she’s done something wrong, or if anyone has done something wrong. This was entirely on you; you and your stupid, selfish human heart.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” she replies, squinting her eyes. Again, there’s a silence, but you can tell she still has something to say, like she’s mulling it over. “Will you at least be here tonight? You know, for the big feast? Everyone will be here, even Neteyam,” the girl tsks playfully, shaking her head as she walks circles around you.

Immediately your body stiffens, and she responds to this by teasing you, “Or, I could just save you something…or maybe i’ll ask Neteyam to save you something since he’ll be the most important man tonight.”

“And why would you do that?” the words leave your tongue before you have the chance to process them. It reads rather defensively, but you ignore it. “I mean, why—why ask Neteyam?”

“Because he’s your friend…” kiri pokes you, “because you love him,” she whispers, only this time her voice is a lot more serious, a lot quieter—a whisper. This is when you get that feeling again.

That weird, achy feeling that leaves your stomach in knots and your throat all puffy. The sensation is debilitating—suffocating, and the only way you know how to ease it is by doing what you had set out to do in the first place (though, you were swiftly interrupted).

“Don’t be silly, Kiri,” your smile drops solemnly, “we’re…friends, just friends. Besides, he’s going to be spoken for soon. There are a lot of Na’vi women who would make fine mates…” Your voice decrescendos into the forest night air, the conversation lasting a lot longer than you’d anticipated. To stop your solemn mood from being expressed outwardly, you quickly turn around, looking back once to speak.

“Anyway, I have to go now. I’ll see you later.” Kiri nods and waves bye, her eyes watching as your small frame disappears out of her family’s tent.

A cacophony of voices and music fall on deaf ears as you make your way through the village. The preparation is beginning, but all you can think about is him. Him, him, him.

And ever since you overheard a rumor that Neytiri and Mo’at had chosen the next in line to become tsahik after Neytiri, your heart stopped beating…because you knew. You knew exactly what this meant—the end.

Neteyam was to be a future olo’eyktan, after all. And in Na’vi culture, the future head of the clan and the future spiritual representative were to be betrothed. You knew that, and yet, you couldn’t fathom it. Because then it’d be the end.

The end of your late night rendezvous, the end of your special talks, the end of your banter, and your clandestine glances—your whispers. The ones that were quiet, and innocent…the ones that tingled the shell of your ears. Meant for him and you only.

It was selfish, really. Stupid. You knew the day would come when he’d have to grow up and fulfill his duties as a Na’vi male. Just not this soon though, you wanted to hold onto him a little longer. And if drinking your pain away to preserve those precious memories could do that, then you’d do it.

Lost in your train of thought, you don’t register that you’ve walked yourself right into the heart of a crowd until you bump into a young na’vi child. Apologizing, you then attempt to squeeze through the sea of bodies, tapping lightly on people’s legs until you reach the front. The people were cheering, celebrating the hunters’ return and the game that the Great Mother had graciously given them.

Slowly, hunters had begun pooling in from the forest on direhorseback. Then, they started coming in clusters, all ululating, and pumping their fists in the air while holding their dead game in the other. Your head turned in awe as each hunter rode past you, the energy of the people so contagious that your sour mood was starting to dissipate, even if just a little.

Thinking that was the last of the riders, you begin walking again, but the sound of heavy hooves striking the ground halt your movements. Turning your head back to the trees, you see something moving behind the shrubbery, and then enters none other than the man of the hour: Neteyam. If the people weren’t cheering before, they were definitely cheering now—especially since he’d managed to catch an adult sturmbeest (which was a difficult feat).

The direhorse strides slowly through the crowd, and stops in the centre on Neteyam’s command. Nobody can take their eyes off of him, and neither can you. He just looks so strong, and masculine—like his father, even though he’s the spitting image of his mother. Neteyam puts his hand into the air before he dismounts his horse and ushers the people to settle down, and eventually, they do.

He points to the sturmbeest that his direhorse is carrying back to be prepared. “Tonight, my brothers and sisters…” a pause, “we dance! we sing! we feast!” His words excite the villagers again, uluations so loud that your ears begin to ring. Just as you’re about to turn away, his eyes meet yours—he smiles. And there it is. That achy feeling in your chest.

He wants to say something, reaches his arm out to you as if he were silently telling you to wait up, but then a girl strikes up a conversation with him. At first, you’re not entirely sure who it is—and you shouldn’t even care—but then you do a double take and your heart sinks a little more. It was Tsimandi, the girl rumored to be his betrothed.

From this distance, you can’t hear what they’re talking about, so you watch intently. He’s got his head thrown back in hearty laughter, and she’s touching him—actually touching him, her hands wrapped around his forearm in an attempt to pull him further away.

You think if you stay a second longer you’ll actually become a pile of liquid where you stand, so you take this opportunity to slip away while he’s preoccupied.

When Neteyam looks back, he notices your absence. Squinting, he looks around in search of you, and then he sees what looks like a person disappearing into the thick of the forest. Just what is she doing?

“I apologize, Tsimandi, but I must do something,” he begins backing away, a genuine expression etched onto his face, “I will see you tonight, at the feast!”

“Oh, o-okay,” she mutters but he’s already run off. Neteyam calls for his direhorse and waits at the edge of the forest until it comes running towards him. Before he can mount it and follow you, someone calls out to him.

“And where are you going?” the voice queries, tone laced with suspicion. He recognizes who it belongs to and sighs.

“Nowhere, sir,” he dismounts, meeting his father’s eyes, his mother also accompanying him.

“Yeah, I’d hope so. The people are throwing this feast for you, or have you forgotten?” Jake gives him a once over, eyes still boring into his son.

“No, sir. I have not forgotten,” the boy lowers his gaze in embarrassment.

“Good. Go get ready, knucklehead.”

With each trudge through the forest, you were losing more and more sunlight. You’d walked about halfway to your destination when you remembered the bottle sloshing around in your satchel.

Usually, you waited to drink the liquid there, but you decided given today’s strenuous events, you’d have some now. A reward, you tell yourself. Taking the bottle out of the bag, you lift your mask from your face briefly, twisting open the top and taking a big swig.

No matter how many times you did it, the taste always made you gag. Bourbon—is what they called it. It was equal parts bitter and pungent but it did the trick. Helped you to relax, to forget. The first time you came across it, it was by pure accident.

You’d been somewhere you shouldn’t have been, doing things you shouldn’t have been doing. But one thing led to another, and soon enough, you were inebriated for the first time.

By the time you drink half of your weight in liquor, you reach your destination. The old shack. After what happened with the Sky People, Jake’s first rule as olo’eyktan was to prohibit anyone from entering.

Even being somewhere remotely around the area was forbidden. But you were no stranger to disobedience, you’d come here once with Lo’ak (which was your first time actually).

Though, you didn’t get to explore much because Tuk had spoiled your fun by telling Jake. That day was one of your favorite memories, you think. Jake couldn’t stop yelling at the two of you, but all you could do was laugh. Nothing was really even funny, but you couldn’t help it. Seeing Jake’s eye twitch at your outburst only exacerbated it.

Lo’ak was getting the worst of it, and Neteyam fell victim to Jake’s nagging too for not ‘being there’. After a while, he’d dismissed the bunch of you from his tent and as soon as you were out of earshot, the three of you went into a frenzy of laughter. You think back fondly on those memories, all the ones that include Neteyam, that is.

“God, there isn’t a second when I’m not thinking of you…” you sigh in exhaustion, extending an arm out to open the shack’s door. Reaching in your satchel, you pull out two jars full of glow worms (you’ve found that two jars are enough to light up the shack). Ambling over to your favorite spot, you open a cabinet and reach for another bottle of that bitter liquid you willingly put into your body.

It’s still a wonder to you how well preserved these bottles remained over the years, and you’re pretty sure you’ve heard Norm or someone mention that the older the liquor, the better it tastes (which was a lie, but alas, you down another shot).

“Wooo,” a cough erupts from your throat, “yep, still nasty.”

At this point, the liquor is starting to take effect. Warmth radiates throughout your entire body, and you can feel your limbs gradually getting heavier. Being drunk had to be one of your top three favorite feelings.

It either made you: sad, tired, or giggly (maybe even all at once). But now? Now you were feeling sleepy, so you groggily trudge over to one of the beds in the shack.

As soon as your body hits the plush, a cloud of dust filters through the air. It was incredibly disgusting, but you’d slept in worse places. For now, you would lay here…succumbing to a sweet slumber.

Neteyam had gone home without fuss as promised. Go and get ready. Well, he was doing exactly that now, exchanging his previous attire for that of something more formal. He rolled his eyes and huffed. Sometimes his father could just be a…

“Son of a bitch,” the boy snapped, his frustration reaching its peak. He’d been standing in the tent for about 10 minutes trying to figure out this headpiece his mother had laid out for him, but could not for the life of him figure it out.

Giving up, he throws it to the ground and takes a seat with his head in his hands. Kiri slips in shortly after his outburst, bending to the ground to retrieve the item. Hesitantly, she walks over to her brother.

“If you needed some help, you could have called, brother.” Neteyam lifts his head up from his hands to see Kiri towering over him, his eyes breaking contact with hers as she sits down next to him. There’s a pregnant pause, but it doesn’t last for long because Kiri is already opening her mouth to speak.

“What is troubling you?” She asks, forcing Neteyam to turn his back to her so that she can place the headpiece onto him properly. He inhales deeply, then exhales.

“I do not know…I saw (your name) earlier and…” Kiri hums, encouraging him to continue, “and—she had this strange look on her face.”

“Look? What do you mean? Was she angry? Sad?”

“I have never seen it before, sister. She usually looks happy when she sees me…but this look was different,” his voice is almost inaudible when he finishes. Kiri ponders for a bit, tilting her head as if she were mentally putting the puzzle pieces together.

“How come you did not speak to her?” Kiri makes her final adjustments to the headpiece, ushering Neteyam to meet her eyes.

“I was going to…I tried to, but Tsimandi found me before I could,” he fiddles with his fingers. Kiri takes note of his disposition, and she frowns empathetically. Clearly, whatever was going on with you two was something you had to work out together. This wasn’t like either of you!

“But it was not just today either,” he continues, “she has been distancing herself for awhile, have you noticed?” She laughs at this, nodding her head.

“Yes, she has been acting a little strange lately. I think I might know what is troubling her, brother,” the girl takes his hand into her own. “But I cannot tell you. This is something that concerns only she and you…”

Neteyam squints his eyes in confusion, muttering a ‘what’. His mouth opens to speak but he is swiftly interrupted upon Jake and Neytiri’s arrival. He looks to Kiri for some clarification but all she says is: ‘go, go, you have a feast to attend’, followed with a, ‘find her later’.

“Well? Come on, the people won’t wait for your blue ass all day will they?” Jake teases. Neytiri slaps his arm, scolding him playfully.

“Ah, my son, my beautiful son,” she pads to where he stands, taking his face into her hands. “It is time to go, we must celebrate you.”

Jake nods, flashing a quick wink of approval. Together, they all walk out of the tent and through the village where they’re instantly greeted with colorful luminescence, loud music, and food. All things that have been so generously prepared for him. By the time they make it down to the Tree of Souls, everyone halts their cheering to hear what Jake has to say.

“Tonight we eat,” a pause, “in honor of Neteyam’s mighty victory!” Jake grabs his eldest son’s hand, raising it in the air. “He led his first attack against the Sky People and made it back without any casualties!” A sudden roar of praise erupts from the crowd.

Everyone is chanting his name, and clapping, but even amidst all this praise, he can’t help but to think about you. What does all of this matter if you’re not here to celebrate with him?

You’ve been by his side since the two of you could walk, so where are you now? The thought saddens him, but he can’t wear his heart on his sleeve tonight. Not when there’s so many people here just for him.

“For the past 20 years, my son has always been just a boy to me. But now I realize…he is a man—and he has proven himself in front of the eyes of Eywa,” The former marine glances down at his son, eyeing him in admiration. “Enough talking, let us feast!”

Laughter and songs fill the warm, breezy nighttime air. It’s been about two hours since the celebration commenced, and Neteyam has just about made his rounds to every important family.

He smiles warmly as he looks at the scene in front of him: children playing and dancing by the fireside, putting on elaborate performances for the adults still filling their bellies full of food. Everyone is lively—happy, a testament to tonight’s success.

Mo’at is pleased by this especially, she tells him that ‘this is what the people needed’—you know, to boost morale. At some point, when nobody is watching, he slips away from the party to walk around. Unbeknownst to him, someone has seen him.

“Getting tired?” a voice questions from the shadows. Out comes Kiri, revealing herself from behind a leaf.

“Yes, exhausted actually,” he jokes, disconnecting his braid from his direhorse. “No, but I need to find (your name). She has not come back and it is dark.”

“I figured you would leave early, that’s why I covered your ass and told Dad you were not feeling well,” the feline-like girl smirks.

“Do you have an idea where she might be?”

Kiri takes a moment before answering, “I’m not sure…but for some reason, I have a hunch that she’s at the old shack,” Neteyam furrows his brows in confusion.

“Why do you think she’s there?” he queries, “I mean, it is forbidden.” Kiri offers him a shrug.

“I don’t know but if you’re going to find her, do it now while dad still thinks you’re not feeling well.”

With that, he thanks her for the intel and mounts his horse, disappearing into the thick of the forest. On the way there, his mind conjures up just about every possible scenario that might explain your absence.

Were you upset with him? Did he do something or say something that you didn’t like? He wishes he could just read your thoughts because right now, his heart is pounding so rapidly within the confines of his chest, that he thinks it’ll explode.

This wasn’t like you two, everything was always so easygoing. Being with you was easy, like breathing. But this? His heart couldn’t handle this. Yeah, there’s been some distance between the two of you recently but not due to his own volition—it was duty. If he could spend every second of his life by your side, just being kids, laughing with you, playing with you, he would.

He’s trying to recount these last few days, weeks—months. Trying to pinpoint when exactly things got like this between you…pinpoint when you stopped smiling at him with that smile that made his head all fuzzy, and his heart race like a kid running for the first time.

“Ah, everything’s going to shit, buddy,” he sighs, rubbing the side of his horse, “I don’t know what is wrong.” His mammalian companion grunts empathetically, stopping in its tracks at the edge of the forest when it sees the abandoned link shack. Neteyam doesn’t bother scolding her, because even the animals know that this place is forbidden.

“Alright, I will see you later, okay? Stay here,” he pats her, disconnecting the bond. From this distance, he can see that there seems to be some sort of light illuminating from inside the shack.

That alone already confirms Kiri’s hunch. The closer he gets, the more his stomach feels uneasy. He doesn’t even know why he’s nervous, but he attempts to ease his mind (and body) by telling himself that it’s only you. He’s talked to you one on one hundreds of times, so what’s the difference now?

Noises in the distance rouse you from your ephemeral repose. When you stand up, your head spins with the room, causing you to instinctively reach out for the nearest surface available. Whatever was outside had better be non-threatening, because you were not in the condition to be fighting—let alone standing. When you were drunk like this, you couldn’t even hurt a fly.

“Fuck, I’m gonna have the worst headache soon,” you huff quietly, still aware that there might be someone or something outside. The noise is getting closer, and you’re running out of time to find a hiding spot.

Quickly, you grab the closest thing you can to defend yourself (which is literally a jar of glow worms), and crouch down below the window. When you lift your head just enough to see outside, the makings of a silhouette cloud your vision.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whisper-yell, tightening your hold on the jar. Lifting your head up again, you notice that the figure is not in the spot it was previously. Then, the knob to the shack twists, and now it’s opening, and—

“(Your name)?”

You pause your attack, slowly dropping your hand (that’s holding the jar) to your side. A flood of relief washes over you once you register who the voice belongs to. Rising from the ground, you open the door fully to see Neteyam standing in the doorway.

“I almost killed you, you know!” you raise the jar, pulling him inside of the shack.

“I think it would take more than a jar of worms to kill me,” he teases. Rolling your eyes, you continue ushering him further inside, leading him to an area where you can sit and talk.

“What…what are you doing here?” you finally ask, folding your arms across your chest. Neteyam towers over you from this height, so he accommodates you by dropping to his haunches.

“I was worried about you,” the boy confesses, “what are you doing here? Why were you not at the feast?” Suddenly, you don’t really feel like talking anymore. Even though the adrenaline from before was still pumping through your veins, so was the alcohol in your system. You’re not so sure you’d be able to keep your composure long enough to answer without exposing your truest feelings. So, you decide on deflecting.

“Aren’t you the man of the hour? I think you should go back to the party before daddy throws a fit. We both know how he gets when his perfect little son isn’t at his every beck and call…” As soon as the words spill from your tongue, you wince. It came out meaner than you meant, and the last thing you wanted was to give him shit for being a caring friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—I didn’t mean that,” you apologize, sitting down on the bed. All he does is sigh, but he takes this opportunity to enter your space, gets all close until his body is nestled between your legs.

“I know…I know, but I want you to tell me what’s wrong, hm?” his fingers lift your chin, “so I can fix it.”

“Can’t fix this, ‘Teyam,” a saltine droplet ribbons down your face. Your head is tilted up with his fingers, but you can’t even force yourself to meet his gaze. God, how pathetic did you look right now?

Here you were, inside an abandoned shack, drinking your body weight in liquor…all while a celebration was being thrown in your best friend’s honor. And for what? Because you were jealous? Because you liked him—loved him?

You knew that eventually your relationship would shift. That he’d take on his duties as the future olo’eyktan, and you’d just be his human friend he hangs with from time to time. How stupid could you be to think things would stay like this forever?

“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothes, both hands now cupping your cheeks, “don’t do that. Do not shut me out. We’re not like this, (your name), you used to always talk to me about things.”

Things. You’d talk about things. But those things were not like these things. And if he knew what things you were thinking about, the things that involved him…then you two would never talk about things again.

You’re curious, though. What if you just told him? Just told him about all the days you’ve loved him, all the nights you’ve stayed up thinking of him—all the stars you counted wishing for him? At least then, the burden of keeping such a secret would stop weighing so heavy on your heart.

“I..” a breath, “I heard a rumor.” The boy hums, encouraging you to continue. “I heard your mother has chosen her successor.”

“Is that what this is about? Why does this bother you?”

“Because you know what this means! We both know what this means, don’t be dense, ’Teyam,” you droop your head in sorrow, coaxing him to just lift it back up. Only this time, his hold on your face is a lot firmer. His eyes are fiercer.

“No. I don’t, so just tell me.”

“You’re gonna be the future olo’eyktan, and we both know that the future clan leader and the chosen tsahik are to be betrothed,” you start, “there will be no time for me! No more late night talks, no more exploring, no more secret whispers…I mean, I get it, you have duties to fulfill but…I wanna be selfish a little longer. Can’t I be selfish a little longer?”

You say the last line while meeting his gaze. You’re teary eyed and shaking, but you try your best to keep any semblance of composure you have left intact (though, it’s failing). His expression is indiscernible.

It makes you nervous. Sick. And now you’re forcing yourself not to throw up because…the realization that you just told someone your deepest, truest, most vulnerable feelings makes you physically ill.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry. Forget what I jus—“

“Are you serious? You don’t get it do you?” Neteyam’s head falls forward, a little chuckle slipping past his lips. His hands leave your head and slither down to your hands. He takes them into his own, eyeing you while kissing the knuckles of each.

The act is incredibly intimate, sends white-hot electricity down the column of your spine. Renders you speechless. All you can do is sit there, too scared that if you move or speak, you’ll shatter into a million little pieces.

“I have duties, yes…but my heart is already spoken for. Always has been.”

“What are you saying, ’Teyam,” your head snuggles into the warmth of his hand. You know exactly what he’s saying, but you want to hear him say—

“I see you,” he whispers in your ear, “you are my most beloved.” The warmth of his breath tingles the shell of your ear, it takes the strength of a thousand men to not scream.

But in this moment? In this moment you want to kiss him. You want to kiss him silly, actually, but you quickly remember the thing on your face preventing your lips from connecting with his. There are truly evil forces conspiring against you.

“I want to kiss you,” you admit solemnly.

“Oh, you don’t know how many nights I’ve spent dreaming about kissing you. Too many,” he jokes, “but I’m afraid if we remove this, you’ll die.”

“Then you don’t have to kiss my lips,” a silence, “you can kiss me anywhere you’d like. Anywhere.”

His green eyes flitter between your face and your body, and then his hands are on you, forcing you to lay back against the bed. You lift your head up and lean back onto your elbows, watching through lust-filled eyes as he begins his ministrations.

He starts from the bottom, works his way up real slowly—too slowly. He’s showing restraint, and while you appreciate the fact that he’s worshiping your body like a devoted follower worships their deity, you want him to ravage you. To eat you up until there’s nothing left but bones.

“’Teyam, please…” you breathe out impatiently. Like the cocky-brat he is, he ignores your pleas, only laughing into your skin.

“Shh, be calm.” The plush of his lips trail up the plains and pastures of your body, up your calves, your thighs (he spends the most time there), and then comes to a stop at the crest of your breasts. His fingers fiddle with the cloth covering your chest, lightly tracing the edges that rest just beneath your mounds.

A tease is what he is. And you didn’t have the time for a tease, so you figured you’d help speed up the process by removing it. Sitting up, you untie the makeshift top and let it fall to your lap, smirking deviously as if you’ve done something so naughty.

“Thought I’d help you,” you grin, wrapping your hands around his neck, “Please, no more going slow…I think we’ve been going slow for twenty years, don’t you think?”

And he gets the hint, once again resuming his assault on your body, but this time with more fervor. More urgency. He’s kissing you everywhere, licking wet stripes over your chest, and leaving love bites in the places where he’s kissed you. Right now he’s acting on his most basic, primal instincts—he’s claiming you as his mate—in the only way he knows how to.

The feeling of his hands on your neck, back, thighs and waist send you into oblivion. But then his hands are creeping up to your tits, deft fingers twisting and kneading, and oh god, you’re seeing stars. The addition of his mouth doesn’t help either.

“You’re so,” a kiss, “beautiful,” a suck, “perfect.” Neteyam kneads one breast while his mouth works on another. He plops down onto a pert nipple, using his tongue to draw circles around the area, his saliva acting as a salve.

A moan (that comes out more like a disgruntled sigh) vacates your throat, and his eyes widen in excitement. The sight of his tail swaying in the background makes you giggle. Cute, you think.

Even though what the two of you were doing wasn’t innocent, you couldn’t help but to feel all giddy. Reaching a hand out, you place a gentle palm on the side of his face.

You trace the contours of his nose, his cheekbones, smooth over his jaw, and then stop at his lips. Your thumb grazes them, first the top, then the bottom—learning. Committing them to memory, how they look, feel, and move under your thumb.

Neteyam is unmoving while you continue to run your finger across his lips—save for his hand, which slowly begins traveling south to your thighs. Experimentally, you push your thumb inside of his mouth, pressing the digit down on his tongue before tracing his cat-like canines. This moment is particularly special, because now it’s you who’s doing the admiring.

The free hand that’s not inching towards your core, skillfully removes the loin cloth around your hips. Immediately, he’s met with your bare sex. It’s smooth—wet, so incredibly wet that it has his cock twitching, and his hands eager to touch you. He wants to taste you. Feel you, all of you.

“I—,” a slender finger rubs your slit, “mmf, see you,” you mewl, cupping his cheek. Neteyam’s eyes widen, he wants to hear you make that sound again…and again, and again, and—

The boy repeats the action. Watches your abs flex and tremble from the touch, and your thighs close in on his arm. Using the other hand, he gently pulls them apart and leaves three open-mouthed kisses: one on your inner thigh, one on another, and then a final one at the top of your mound. The heat from his nostrils make you full body shiver; suddenly, being the only one completely bare is slightly bothering you.

“Do not cover yourself. I want to see you,” his hand finds your cunt again, a long finger pushing into you ever so slowly, “…want to hear those sweet sounds again.”

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you watch his digit push further into you, the drag of a knuckle against your slick walls aiding in the pleasure. You can’t help but to wince at the intrusion, because shit, this was a lot more than what you were used to—using your fingers, that is.

You also suppose penetration would be off the table considering humans and Na’vi were never meant to mate, but it doesn’t prevent you from fantasizing about it anyway. How big was it? Did he touch himself? Use his hands and picture yours?

The thought of him hunching over, rubbing one out, all slick with sweat and pre has your head all dizzy. Your mouth is practically salivating at the mental image you’ve conjured up in your head of him fucking your face, but you know it would never fit. There really are evil forces conspiring against you…

Neteyam’s finger reaching the hilt brings you back down to reality. A forceful thrust that coaxes you to gasp sharply and grab his forearm. After patiently waiting for you to adjust to his size, he begins to move. He sets a steady rhythm, pulling out slowly, then pushing back into you with the same velocity.

Eventually, his movements become less hesitated, and more calculated. Instead of steady and slow, he begins increasing the pace of his thrusts, then graduates from speed to incorporating force.

Every delve of his finger, every deliberate drag and prod has fire pooling in the depths of your belly. Squelches and whimpers ricochet off of the metal walls, and fuck, his dick won’t stop twitching.

It’s grown considerably harder in these past few minutes, and all from just hearing you vocalize your pleasure. When the stretch stops feeling like a stretch, and starts feeling like a ‘give me more’, that’s when you encourage him to add another. And of course, he indulges you.

The same time he pushes another finger in, is the same time he starts rubbing himself. He’s not even really aware of it at first, it’s mindless. He’s just so entranced by you, and the sounds you’re making, the things you’re saying, the way your cunt’s sucking in his fingers—

Fuck. He just finished all over himself. He doesn’t let that deter him though, keeps fingering you through his post-orgasm, taking care of you until you come undone on his fingers.

And the sight is amazing, he can’t stop gawking at the way your hole flutters around him, and the nectar-like liquid that drips down the length of his fingers and onto the bed. He wants to taste it.

“Can I taste you?” he asks. You’re in such a daze that the question doesn’t even register, suddenly too preoccupied with breathing like you’ve forgotten how to.

“Huh? Wha—ohhhh.” His tongue licks a long stripe up your slit. He concentrates the tip at the bottom, lapping at the essence that leaks from there, and then circles back to your puffy bud. Experimentally, he prods it with his fingers, rubbing it in tantalizingly slow circles.

The combination of his tongue and his fingers almost feel overwhelming, you feel like a puppet on a marionette with the way he’s maneuvering your legs around for better access. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was a starved man.

His mouth is slick with drool, and his hands are pressing down so firmly onto your thighs, that you’re sure a handprint will be there for you to discover in the morning. His tongue feels so good on you, so nasty.

The picture is obscene, unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed before. But the thing that’s really getting to you are the sounds he’s making. Grunts and groans, expletives and mumbles. ‘So good’, ‘perfect’, ‘beautiful’…it has your head spinning and your fists gripping for the sheets beneath you.

There’s a knot in your abdomen pulled taut like a string of twine. You can feel it twisting and pulling, ready to come undone at the drop of a pin. The more he works on your slit, the more the temperature rises in the shack.

Was the room always spinning? Did your body always run this hot? It feels like you’ve been thrown into a furnace, and the only source of coolness is the wetness that his tongue provides.

“‘M gonna, mmf, ’s too much!” you jab at his hand in an attempt to push him away. He’s relentless though, still sucking harshly, and teasing, ramming his thick fingers up against your gummy walls.

It feels different than when you touch yourself, more intense. Like something’s sitting heavy on your bladder. Then, snap. The string in your abdomen unravels, bringing forth a flood of ecstasy.

“’Teyam!” you sob, back arching to the ceiling. When he pulls his fingers out, a stream of clear liquid seeps from your cunt. He’s awestruck, staring in admiration as your sweat kissed chest rises and falls rhythmically.

“Look, your legs are shaking,” he points, biting down a laugh, “why are they shaking?”

“Oh my god, shut up!” you feign offense, pushing him backwards with a chuckle. He pretends to be wounded, rubbing his back dramatically, ‘oohing’ and ‘owing’ as he does so. When you finally sit up, your eyes naturally fall to his loincloth, a wet ringlet contrasting starkly against the beige textile.

“Hey…” your voice is hesitant, but teetering on the edge of curiosity, “Can I try something?”

The boy silently nods his approval, shifting his position on the ground when you amble over to him. A look of confusion molds onto his face following the events that involve you plopping down onto his lap and laying him down. He goes to speak but you interrupt him.

“Your turn, right? Can’t put it in, but…I can still make you feel good,” you say, tugging on the piece of fabric that separates your sex from his. Eagerly, he removes it for you and lets the item fall haphazardly to the ground.

It’s big, so big—and pretty too. A beautiful blue hue that matches the rest of his body, paired along with a blushing teal tip that’s oozing pre. You want to know what he tastes like on your tongue…

“So pretty.”

Heat rises to his cheeks, and his tail takes an aquiline form, quivering in rapid movements. His usual, over-confident disposition was slowly dissipating under your intense gaze, and you reveled in it by mocking his bashfulness.

“Awe, the little kitty’s shy,” you mock, tickling his side.

“Stop it, I don’t look like those Earth things,” he laughs, pushing your hand away, but to no avail. You continue to dodge his attempts to stop you, tickling him here and there until he accidentally bucks and pulls you down against him. Embarrassingly, you let a whine fall from your lips…still too sensitive down there, you guess.

There’s a shit-eating grin plastered on his face now, you hate it. “Who’s making noises like a kitty now, huh?” With this, he takes the liberty to do it again, pressing you down hard against his length.

The feeling of your bare cunt against him is electrifying, probably (definitely) not better than him being inside you, but the next best thing. This was supposed to be your thanks to him. But now he’s taken full charge—maneuvering you back and forth, gripping and kneading—it’s cruel.

For someone who’s never mated with anyone in his life, he’s sure moving you around like he has. His hands are all over you—thighs, hips, waist, breasts, it’s almost overwhelming. Every touch, addled with the buck of hips, brings forth a new sensation that is better than the last. You think this would be a good way to go out, right on his cock. One last hurrah before the morbid inevitable.

“You f-feel so good, (your name),” his voice is breathy, “r-really good.” Neteyam’s grip on your arms is vice, partly because he can feel his climax approaching, but mostly because he can tell you’re growing tired.

Swiftly, he changes your positions to where you’re laying on your back and he’s crouching over you. The tip of his head smoothes over your folds when he pushes up, and before he draws back, you can see just about where his dick would rest if he were inside of you.

“I’d be all the way up here,” he presses down just beneath your breastbone, “you’re so tiny.” It sounds so dirty, but you know ultimately he’s just making an observation—regardless, the comment has your stomach churning in excitement.

The both of you watch in fascination as he sheathes himself up and over your cunt, moaning in unison when the tip of his mushroomy head catches against your bud. Euphoric, he thinks. He never imagined that something could feel this good, let alone without connecting bonds.

Still sensitive from earlier, it doesn’t take too long for you to reach your peak. Neteyam knows that your arrhythmic breathing is a tell-tale sign, and he helps you get there by cooing words of encouragement.

He goes back and forth between ’I got you’s and ‘it’s okay’s, leaving trails of kisses down your body in his wake. The second you finish, you’re pulling him down onto you tight. Moaning and whining into his ear, whispering those same words of encouragement that he whispered to you prior.

“So good, ‘Teyam,” you claw at his back, “keep going, want you to feel good too.” And he does. Unrelenting in his attack against your sex, he comes with a few more pistons.

You eagerly welcome him into your arms when he drops from exhaustion, and hold him there until your erratic breaths synchronize. The both of you are disgustingly sweaty and sticky, but even so, you feel at peace.

You bask in the tranquil quietness of the night, just staring at each other. Soft caresses and soothing hums. Then, Neteyam speaks.

“On this fateful night, two hearts danced…” he whispers, grabbing your hand to hold it over his heart.

“What does this mean?” you smile at him. He ponders over it and then explains.

“My songcord…I want to tell this story,” he starts, “the night when two hearts became one.”

A crystal droplet cascades down your face, “that sounds beautiful.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam sully x reader smut #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x reader smut #avatar x reader #avatar x reader smut #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #atwow #awow #avatar smut #avatar the way of water smut

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mooishbeam · 4 months

Text

『♡』 Brittle is Devotion

♡ featuring: ex-husband!toji x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been a while since you've seen your ex-husband, and on a drunken night, buried feelings emerge. wc: 12.2k+ (bruhhh)

♡ cw/tw: mentions of violence/blood, angst/comfort, rekindled feelings, rough sex, missionary, prone bone, full-nelson, overstimulation, cervix fucking, creampie, m/f receiving, throat fucking, sadism/masochism, dom/sub dynamics, squirting, fingering, praise/degredation kink, dumbification, edging, breeding kink, feral toji mmm, pet names (angel, sweetie, baby)

notes: good morning!! hope everyone is having a lovely day, i am so so so so sorry i haven't posted in so long i didnt abandon the account!! i've just been getting it together before the semester starts, and i didnt expect for it to be this long :(( im very tired but ill try to get some stuff out in the next couple of weeks, most likely long fics too. ty so much, and srry for any spelling mistakes. art by ilameys_ on ig! <;3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Picking up the pieces after Toji is rough. The divorce was bad enough, and you currently have an aching pain stilling in your chest that makes it hard to take the shallowest breaths. It hammers in the tight confines of your ribcage, and as you sob into your pillow the only relief you desire is sleep, so that you may have temporary solace from the grief wrecking your brain. Your new apartment feels entirely too shallow. There’s no crumby television to use because you were too broke to afford the higher-end appliances, or that creaking mattress you both squeezed into until you could thrift a reasonable headboard. You missed the 60s style tiles painted a horrific green in your kitchen, and the shower that ran out of hot water every other day. It was terrible, downright unlivable for most, but you had each other.

It hurts more because you love him. So much. Unbearably, to the point where you screamed at the top of your lungs until your throat scratched through angry hot tears, begging him to care for a moment, to give you a reason to stay. Countless times, threatening to walk out if he didn’t endeavor to change. But he never believed you. He thought you’d never leave, because all you had was him.

And it was true, for years it was. Toji was your dream man; funny and thoughtful. It wasn’t conventional kindness, but it was his. Money didn’t matter—even as you enjoyed a frozen meal on the floor of your empty apartment in the first couple months of moving in with him, you had a smile on your face. Even when your friends and family begged you not to marry him, because they couldn’t stand the sight of him and his arrogant, sometimes aggressive candor, you went on with it anyway. You knew who he really was at heart.

He was your first everything, you felt if he left, you’d melt to nothing and become a shell of who you once were, because Toji had become an extension of you. You waited for him to get home, had dinner, and slept through the outside commotion of cars and bar fights; his securing arm locked around you, hand cradling your head and legs intertwined. There was no one like him.

He knew that and got greedy.

To you, the change was fast, but it’d been spreading like a nasty mold for years. You’d sunk so deep you hadn’t noticed the drought until you reached the bottom. He taught you love, then pulled away; separated himself with additional shifts and pathetic excuses. In turn you punished yourself, showered him with heavier instances of love and endearment, and convinced yourself you needed to try harder. If the sex wasn’t daily, you gave him more. If he didn’t like the food, you learned how to be a better chef. If the house wasn’t clean, you scrubbed top to bottom. Wringing a tired towel, dry of sacrifice. Chasing after him until the soles of your feet blistered. Still, not a smidge of praise or approval came to fruition. When he did—which was rare—those peppered spaces ignited a lasting burn in your heart, keeping withering fire alive.

Soon, those fleeting kisses and distant pauses weren’t enough, and he didn’t care enough to change. You’d plead and cry at his feet, and he’d scoff and walk past you.

“We’ll talk about it later”, he’d say more often than not. You didn’t have the confidence to leave, and he consumed himself with whatever underground work he participated in, while you decayed in a declining marriage.

A grimace on his face, laid back on the couch and looking at you expectingly, as if you would drop to your knees and service him in a heartbeat—but you did exactly that. And you were tired, utterly tired of pulling the emotional and mental leaden baggage on your own. It was heavy, and you were crushing yourself underneath it. You still loved him with every inch of your being, and you’d do it all for him, but it couldn’t be just you anymore. He came home one fateful night to you sitting at the dining table, spotlighted under the stark glass pendant lamp in your dark apartment, dejection that foreshadowed the unfortunate end.

“Do you love me?” He gazed at your solemn face and scratched his head.

“Mhm.”

“Will you change?”

“No.”

That’s what you needed to hear. The next week, while he was at work, you gathered your clothes and measly possessions to leave. You sobbed the entire way through, shaking with uncertainty and fear of the unknown—unsure about a future without him. As you slid the dissolution of your marriage on the counter, the sudden reality made you unable to control your knees as you dropped to the floor, and tears spilled down your cheeks and freckled the papers. Luckily, Shoko was there to comfort you and help pack your things. The corners of that confinement spared a gentle, loving memory, and vitriol was left in its wake. Turning back to its hollowness for the last time, you imagined Toji, plopping onto the couch as he’d usually do to watch some late-night television show or going to bed. Like you weren’t there.

Maybe you never mattered in the first place.

It’s been a year since, and things are looking up for you. An opportunity surfaced in a field you were interested in applying for, and you miraculously got the job. Moving over a city helped you adjust to your new life—that, and a bottle of dark burning liquor. No matter how much you mindlessly typed at your computer or partied with coworkers, you couldn’t stomach the pit gorging through you, a hole that surfaced everything you’d been burying.

You’re not prepared to face the forlorn mock of your bleached walls today. As you pry your eyes open, the flickering shimmers through your sheer curtain cast across unattended sheets, soothed by stuffed animals strung along the comforter. You reach for something that isn’t there in your groggy state—a gentle reminder that your morning would be just as empty as yesterday.

Today isn’t any other; it’s what would’ve been your five-year anniversary. One year, of new beginnings and new friends. A year of solitude.

You don’t bother slinking out of bed. The accumulation of tasks awaiting you is more daunting than the actual execution. In an attempt to regain control of your life, you established a healthy routine. It entails waking up at early hours to exercise and work on projects and meal prep, and ending your night early with extra exercise and skincare. It was amazing at first and quelled your sadness. What they didn’t inform you of, was the spectacle; the appearance and perception of perfection, and not the struggles or gradual burnout of maintaining that lifestyle. When the distraction died down, and work and social activities became a congealed, monstrous chore, you quickly resented those limp salads and vomit-inducing runs.

You expel a loaded sigh and pull the covers over.

The vibration of the phone buzzing on your stomach peels your eyes awake. You allow it to pass, but it rings again. From a frustrated exhale, your languid hands muster the strength to flip to its notification; Shoko’s calling.

“Hello?” you mutter, fatigue caught in your throat.

“Fuck, you sound like hell!” she replies. The repetitive clack of office keyboards and analog phones being slammed by stressed out coworkers distorts the background. Thank God I used my paid time off.

“I love you too, Shoko.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…you ok?” It’s much sweeter. Shoko has always been a supportive friend, perhaps bordering on too supportive. You cherish her motherly concern, and rather vulgar honesty.

“Mm, I’ll manage.”

“I can come over after work.” You flip onto your back, soaking in the mild sunlight.

“S’alright, I’m sure you’re busy, and I might sleep in. Wallow in sorrow for a few hours.” Shoko drawls a dramatic groan and creaks back in her chair.

“Nothing good comes out of feeling sorry for yourself. Go to the club or somethin’.”

“‘N how’s that gonna help?”

“Better than whining at home. Wear something sexy, look pretty and get laid. That’s how I get over shit.”

“Mm, right. I don’t know if that’s gonna work” you giggle, toying with one of the ears on your stuffed bunny.

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re the born-again Virgin Mary now. You know… if you want to get over ‘him’, you have to take the first step.” You can envision her air quotations. She treats his name as forbidden speech, and regularly refers to it in conversation as “he who shall not be named.”

“Ugh, mother Shoko’s speaking.”

“Listen, it may or may not work. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it is all I’m saying.”

“Yea? Well, if he has a tiny dick, I’m blaming you.”

“Nothing wrong with shellfish.”

The last curl falls in place, and you follow it up with copious amounts of hairspray. Fanning your bathroom after a drawn out coughing fit, you get a good look at your figure in the mirror. The backless lacy black dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places and guides the detail sitting tight under your butt. It’s undoubtedly revealing, coupled with strappy heels and a dark cat eye.

You walk past your vanity and pause at the messy jewelry box, riddled with remnants of Toji’s adoration. Sparkling varieties of heavy necklaces and rings and precious diamonds; ninety percent of your jewels were because of him. You’d asked if he stole the items he gifted you, and he’d come up with an elaborate sarcastic story about a jewelry heist he carried out, and how appreciative you should be. Buried underneath rested your engagement ring, a sparkling cut that crowded your entire finger. You couldn’t bring yourself to pawn it, opting to occasionally revel in its beauty before shoving it in a far corner with your feelings.

Shoko wasn’t lying about how sexy you’d feel dolled up, and it shows in your confidence as you modeled around your bedroom, striking poses to no one. Your plushies weren’t very appreciative of the full-blown fashion show, but you hadn’t felt like this for a long while. Maybe it was about time you entered the dating scene.

The entrance to Infinity appears as a run-down tacky club from an outdated era, and it’s easy to miss the multicolored flashes dotting the black tinted glass on each side. A few steps past the black and white checkered vestibule, and you get to experience the scale of a roaring, clashing club. It’s not half as lively on the outside; sweat dripping under twinkling lights of multicolor, bodies colliding and moving to the melodic sway of erratic music vibrating through the floor, freely drowning and expelling their insecurities, deepest struggles. It’s both welcoming and hopeless.

A woman balances her shot glass as she gyrates against a stranger while another stumbles off the dance floor in a drunken stupor. The heat and screams are overstimulating, circulating around you. You consider withdrawing, especially since you held some reservations about partying solo. However, this is what you need, to get comfortable with doing things by yourself.

So you down shots, two, three, burning of different varieties that heighten your body temperature and nerve. You throw back a mix of dark and white liquor, a dangerous combo that dizzies your vision and runs up an unfathomable tab you can't afford. The strangers accompanying you at the counter encourage you. No rational thoughts, let alone decision making, register in your alcohol-sodden mind. Like strings being fielded by a puppeteer, your legs move on their own to the dance floor.

It’s hot. The blurring iridescence bends to produce shapes that make your fuzzy brain giggle for some odd reason. You’re moving in slow motion, and the world’s continuing at max speed. You don’t care either way. You’re light on your feet, and the music goads you to dance. Spinning, hands tangled between your locks traveling down the curve of your thighs, hearing the lyrics inside and out as if no one is watching.

You dance with women and men alike, anyone willing to help you overlook your heartache. It’s floaty, an airiness that spills sober thoughts from cotton mouth and makes every touch electrifying. It’s in your legs and arms, your restless feet and fingers. You laugh hysterically, incomprehensibly, and switch to sadness in a heartbeat. These aimless bodies, just as lost as you, drinking to your despair. Was it worth the abyss tomorrow held, or the agonizing headache as a result?

After those dances, mainly flailing efforts at rhythm, your head is barreling. You’re suffering from a heavy case of vertigo at the slightest turn, and your stomach’s riddled with knots. It hits you like a car crash, and you strive to stabilize yourself as bile fills your throat, cringing when you reluctantly swallow. A disorienting slurry of words and faces ask you things you cannot hear or see, and it suddenly becomes too real.

In few sparse moments, your life plays before you in stop motion. From heaving over the toilet while a lady with long nails held your hair back, to knocking the drink out of someone’s hand on your way out. Now you’re walking on one heel and holding the other. You might’ve popped a nail if not for security holding the door open. They attempt to flag you, but you reply with a curt slurred “‘M fine.”

You push your knees together, sitting on the corner of a curb. This isn’t how you expected the night to end. It’s pitch black beside street lamps, and awfully quiet in contrast to inside. Shivers ripple through you despite the persistent warmth pooling in your ears. You lean on a street lamp in the calm cold as people leave, probably running to participate in intimate affairs with their acquaintances. The gentle hand on a waist or shoulder forms a subconscious smile; young, passionate love blooming on a random night.

And you burst into tears.

Ugly tears streaming down your face in blobs that don’t stop no matter how much you wipe them, followed by deep sniffles. They smear across your phone while you search for a taxi app, and your cloudy eyes deceive you.

You jolt when a hand brushes against your arm and turn to meet the foggy face of a man with stubble. You wipe your wet cheeks and lean further from him.

“Hey baby, you alright?” The pet-name makes you shudder. You definitely don’t know him, and at this point there’s no one outside.

“Wh’re you?” you garble.

“Kusakabe. Where ya off to?”

“Waitin’ for uh frien’” Your eyelids waver, failing to stay alert under the frightening stare burning holes through your skull.

“A friend, huh…you gotta man?” he asks, stepping closer to you. You back away to the side of the light.

“Go away.” You’re definitive, but he laughs as if it were the ridiculous request of a child.

“I like that dress. You look hot.” His hand drags along the strap of your dress, but you nudge his hand.

“Mm’get off me. N’don’ need your help.” He scoffs with offense, and as you go to leave, he grabs your wrist firm.

“Relax. Tryna go home with someone tonight?” You’re trembling, tugging with as much force as you can muster in your punch-drunk state, but he doesn’t budge.

“L’ve me alone”

“Don’t be like that, baby. I’ll call a cab-”

Whack! Your wrist goes limp, and the crunch and crack of flesh hitting concrete echoes. You sluggishly pan to him, knocked out cold beyond the spotlight. The influence takes you, however, and you nearly find yourself joining him on the sidewalk. Before you can fall, a broad, rough hand supports your lower back. Their deep gritty tone is inches away from you.

“C’mon, sweetheart.”

You rise from an unusually sweet slumber. The light shines through your eyelids, unavoidable even when you maneuver the velvety warm blanket for shade. Your eyeballs shift across thin skin being prodded by intrusive sun, and as they crack open, you catch a glimpse of the glass coffee table in front of you, arranged with perfection resembling a furniture showroom. You smile to yourself half-asleep, wondering when you bought such an expensive item, and how an abundance of sunlight made its way through your average window. You’re drifting off anew.

Then, you shoot up.

You start to really take in the surroundings, and when you do, a pit drops in your stomach. An ultra-wide flat screen television faces you, decorated with plants on either side. Craning your neck, the long windows of this penthouse line the adjacent wall up to the ceiling, which hangs a glass geometric chandelier. This isn’t your bedroom, nor your apartment.

Instantly you switch to sitting, and recoil just as fast. Pain envelops the wrinkles of your brain, and you wince from abrupt tension. You palm the bridge of your nose.

“Fuck” you whisper. Last night replays in your head through staccato bursts, though you couldn’t remember the minutes before you passed out. Embarrassment creeps onto your ears at the freak show you performed hours ago. You’d made a fool of yourself, puked and tripped like a sloppy drunk college girl. You can’t be more ashamed, and to top it off, you’re in the house of a stranger you possibly slept with. You look down from the smooth sectional sofa, and notice your heels arranged neatly beneath you with your phone and bag. At the very least, the man you engaged with seems to be accommodating.

You scurry to put your heels on, and hopefully sneak out in silence before you face further humiliation. Something about this blanket smells familiar; musk and oakmoss and man, grazing across your nose like the aroma in an intimate embrace, the earthy dew of calm before a storm, a trace only you can understand.

“Finally up?”

It’s that gravelly smoky voice you lived in for five years, and some before that. The voice you fell asleep to, mumbling nonsense in your ear through boorish snores. The voice you fell in love with, easily saying “I do” when you wedded at the courthouse. The voice you resent, saying nothing at all when you cried.

You look behind you, and there he is, walking down the staircase. He’s wearing boxers, settled under the tufts of hair running down his belly button. His rugged muscles peek out from the untied black robe dangling to his strong calves. His hair grew out a bit since you’ve last seen him, shaggy bedhead running across his eyes and covering his ears.

He smirks the same, though, sweet and soft for such a dour man, like nothing ever happened, approaching you while you sneer at the cruel joke bestowed upon you.

“Toji.” You haven’t said it in forever. It’s abashing how quickly your regularly tense shoulders relax in his proximity.

“How ya feelin’? Hope the couch was comfortable enough, figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in my bed” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched his sturdy back.

“It was fine.”

There's an awkward quiet afterwards. The air’s thick, glass straining under pressure, threatening to give way at the smallest disturbance.

Toji clears his throat. “So, um...you need somethin’? Water?”

“No” you bark, folding your arms across your chest. You can’t look at him, not without feeling enraged. You’re the afterthought, the chaser, rushing after a man who wouldn’t dare look twice. “How’d you even know I was there?”

“Coincidence” he replies, and you scoff. He couldn’t get away with lying to you; playing games with moves you’ve lost to countless times.

“Like hell it was a coincidence. I’m in a completely different city now, what were you doing there?” You have to physically bite back the words begging to spill from your mouth as his head wanders in thought, possibly concocting another fabrication.

“Had business”

“Oh, I’m supposed to believe the man who hates keeping a job had ‘business’. Okay.” You don’t acknowledge the extravagance of the apartment he must be paying for monthly. That, or a chain of illegal activities—whatever assumption suited your irritation in the moment.

“Well, ya wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said, anyway” he chides. You’re a shaken bottle ready to explode, and his nonchalant demeanor only eggs you on. Toji’s perpetually dismissive, looking down on you like a pitiful puppy.

“Because you’re always full of shit” you snap. He exerts a loaded sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he had any right to be tired of the situation.

“’M not lyin’.”

“Right.” You observe your surroundings more. It’s too opulent, pricey vases you wouldn’t expect from the ex-husband that once thought hanging jackets in the doorway was “decoration.” Definitely not fit for a single guy. You’re separated, and you know it's not your responsibility to keep tabs on his sex life, but that caviling thought won’t stop taunting you. How could he get over it so soon?

“If you were just gonna bring me back to your fuck pad, I should’ve slept on the curb. Who knows how many girls you’ve had here.”

He gets eye-level, sitting on the coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together like a drained salaryman, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t be serious. Like you never do anything wrong, like everything that’s happened until now is somehow my fault and you did nothing, nothing, to contribute to the bullshit. Stop acting like a fucking victim.”

“Little lady, you got shitfaced, and some guy was tryna take your drunk ass home. You’re lucky you went home with me instead.”

“I could’ve handled it; I don’t need you for anything-”

“You could barely keep your eyes op-”

“I would’ve handled it! Just like I handle everything else. Alone. Every time. It gets done, I’m not incompetent, Toji!”

You could hear a pin drop in the stillness. Those forested eyes are gazing into your soul. It’s said and done, and you’ve got it off your chest, yet it hurts like a freshly sliced gash. The arguing doesn’t change, married or not. It sucks when you shout, uncontrollable like a blazing fire, only to be snubbed out by his calm, condescending tone.

“...I know.”

You can’t take it, it’s stifling being near him. Wounds loosely covered by band aids seem to peel at his presence, and you’re stuck at his mercy again. You can’t give him the satisfaction of crying in addition to the drunk, poor decisions you made, hardening your expression as you fumble for your phone.

“Take me home” you demand. Toji stands with an exaggerated stretch on both arms, painfully slow. Before you can hurl your phone at him from the dramatics, he looks down on you with that intoxicating gaze.

“Are ya hungry?”

You furrow your brows, and hastily put on the other shoe. Turning on your heels, you go to leave, and are immediately stopped by Toji's calloused hand holding your wrist. You don’t watch, but his palm is gentle. You could smoothly slip out and exit his apartment, forget this engagement and continue a peaceful, isolated life. You’d move on eventually—perhaps to bigger, happier jobs and romances.

Despite that hopeful outcome, you remain.

“I don’t wanna eat. If you don’t take me home, I'll call a cab.”

“I’ll take ya home, just...look, I know you’re hungry, and I’m down to eat at a diner down the block. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll pay for it.” Toji isn’t known for being docile, but with his curved posture almost leaning into you and dejection in his eyes, you swear he’s searching for pity.

“I said I’m not-,” The untimely arrival of your dinning, rumbling stomach cuts off any excuse. A corner of his mouth upturns, and your face contorts to scorned pride.

“...Fine. Let’s make it quick.”

“Great. Can’t have ya walkin’ around like that, though.” He pans to your chest. You haven’t thought to give your outfit a glance, but when you do, your eyes grow wide. The entirety of your conversation with Toji, your chest was spilling out the dress, and now part of your areolas is exposed. You cover up the top, but he stares with an x-ray's invasiveness. You reprimand him, swatting his chest;

“Pervert!”

There was an added benefit to being around Toji; the way people cleared a path for him and treated him with frightened kindness, afraid that pissing off the physically intimidating man would land them a one-way ticket to the nearest hospital.

They weren’t exactly wrong, and you have a satisfied pep in your step as people scoot aside. He strides in front of you to get the door, and you mutter a small “thank you.”

Sweet fluffy pancakes and charred grills mingle with faint notes of bleach. At least he knew better than to take you to a fancy establishment, especially since you were wearing a baggy t-shirt from him, and basketball shorts you had to tie around the waistband. His massive slides had you flopping across the dining aisle as you got to your booth. He’s not particularly dressed either, wearing matching shorts and a compression top.

It’s hard not to perceive the way women ogle him, drooling at the way his biceps flex when he raises the menu, and his chiseled jaw tensing while he ponders the food options. It was a notable problem when you were married. They’d glare at you, shower him with compliments in front of you, and you’d shrink yourself. Occasionally the waiter would pretend you don’t exist as she swayed her hips at every little thing Toji said. If they want him, they can have him. It’s not your business, right? It’s no different with this waiter, twirling the curl of her hair as Toji reiterates his order, shifting from one leg to the other to highlight her curves.

Not my business. You're nauseous.

Not my business. Your fists clench underneath the table.

Your head’s swimming in thoughts, uncertainty crashing down like a wave upon your increasingly loud intrusions. You drown within yourself, until you’re pulled out by a thumb travelling up your hand, and other fingers clasping around it.

“Watcha wanna order, angel?” You regain composure, and when you blink, Toji is waiting for you. The waiter side-eyes you and the joining of your hands.

“You lost? Take her order” he spat.

The food's steaming hot and fresh, and you salivate at the plate in front of you. Toji snatches your bacon before you can, and you begrudgingly watch as he breaks the strips into two pieces, the way you like it. He winks, and you groan. You coat your strawberry pancakes with maple syrup, trespassing territory around the scrambled eggs and bacon, and he laughs across from you.

“What’s funny?”

“Never stopped drowning your breakfast in syrup” he ribs. You pout and swirl your bacon, “It makes it taste better.”

Soon, food in your belly aided your dialogue, and the old banter returned; an easygoing flow, similar to a lifelong friend you hadn’t spoken to in decades. You giggle between bites and gossip about mutual rumors.

"What you been doin’ since..." Toji trails off, falling short of “divorce”—a word he never wants to say.

"Shoko recommended me to her boss, so I'm working uptown now. Pay's okay, nothing to write home about."

"S'good. Livin comfortable?"

"As comfortable as I can be"

"Real humble. Guessin’ it's better than before" he jokes, though you sense a displace in his bearing at the nervous grin he flashes. You reach onto to his side and grab one of the grapes off his plate. You pop one in your mouth, "So, what drug ring got you that house?"

"The cartel. Good vacation time, too" he jests.

"Nice. at least it's not that shitty garbage gig you had for a while."

"It did pay well."

"Yeah? Couldn't get rid of the rotten milk and vomit smell for weeks after. Remember I made you shower at Geto’s apartment?"

“Heh, yeah, he was fuckin’ pissed” he laughs, stealing a piece of sugary bacon from the syrup pool. "I'm a CEO, run a company downtown."

"Ooo, look at you. Can't be little if it did this much for you" you say as you gesture at the empty dishes on the table. Restaurants were a luxury in your household.

"I guess. I had a vision, and some people believed in me”, he pokes at the leftover blueberries, “I finally made it happen, that counts for something, right?"

You pick another off his plate, smile stretching, "You're a natural born leader. People will follow you regardless, even if it's not the right choice."

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "That's the first good thing you said about me today."

"Don't get used to it."

You wait for Toji to retrieve his car after walking back to his apartment. You’re awestruck in many ways; he paid for the whole meal with a black card and showed undying manners. He bowed to your requests. You’re smarter than this, though. This is his opportunity to get on your good side, and he’s showing the best version of himself. However, it fills your heart with want—like the initial dating phase, those butterfly stricken, heart-numbing, sappy gestures that made you melt.

He wraps around the car to open your door, and you plant yourself in the sleek beige interior. Your eyes flick to the veins in his forearm straining as he steers, his deadpan focused expression and the composed R&B music low in the background. It starts to drizzle, and raindrops plink the car roof.

You feel complete; And that alone is a dreadful reality.

The scar on his lip twists to a smile, “Did’ya like the food?”

You turn your nose up, “it was satisfactory.” He snickers, and navigates to the street your apartment is on. “Shit, I gotta give you your clothes back.”

“Forget it, bring it when you get the chance.” Chance. He expected to see you again. You hang your head as he approaches the complex. You didn’t want today to end, but this is it. You’ll leave this car and go your separate ways. This is how it should be.

You place an earnest hand on his shoulder and cast a smile. The corners quiver and your first syllable wobbles, but you finally speak, “I’m proud of you, Toji. I mean it. You’re going to do great things, and I’m always rooting for you.”

He swallows stiff, and suddenly he’s sickly pale. Something within you is pleased at that reaction; if he wants redemption, he should beg and drop to his knees and crawl for forgiveness, he should lock himself up for your eyes only and cut off everyone else in his life. You’re walking away a second time, rightfully so, but you struggle to decipher what you want in this moment. He palms your hand, staring at you, “I’m all for praise, but tell me when we meet again”

“Toji, there can’t be a next- “

“Give me your phone.”

“Huh?” His urgency throws you off guard, “Don’t think, just give me your phone.” It’s impossible to kill the complicated slurry that is your mind, and a new bundle of thoughts emerges from his request, but for a heartbeat, you allow yourself to wander. Pitter patter and muted music, heated seats, the cologne radiating from Toji—all that exists.

You moved on instinct, and now your phone is in Toji’s hands. He's adding his contact information. He hands it back to you, fingers brushing against your soft skin.

“I won’t text or call you. ’S there whenever you need me. Move at your own pace and call me when you’re ready.” With that, you exit his car. No hug or gratitude, skipping goodbyes as you rush out the car. It’s bittersweet when he pulls off, and you’re left with the ghost of him.

The familiar click of your convoluted keys in the apartment door could bring you to tears. You’ve officially reverted to your mundane, boring lifestyle. The walls look duller today.

You curiously click on his contact, and giggle at the name he assigned himself:

dumbass ex

tick, tock, tick, tock

The blue light beaming through your office computer is an eyesore, but you have little say in the matter. There's an upcoming deadline for these reports, you can’t waste precious skill complaining about circumstances out of your control. It’s tiresome, and you rove to the cobweb missing a string in the corner of the room, or the single drop of water roaming outside those wide sterile windows. The balls of your feet carry your flats as you absentmindedly push a pen against your lip.

Your concentration has been out of commission since meeting Toji. He kept his word and hadn’t called you whatsoever. A month passed, and still nothing. Be glad, you told yourself, get your goals back on track. Your exercises get vicious, from jogging to a full sprint, hoping that those buckets of sweat will shed off the extra weight of Toji’s abidance. The fruit bowl on your break offends you with mocking displays of strawberries and grapes. You’ve pondered deleting the contact entirely to repel enticement, but you can’t do it. It’s painfully clear that you miss him.

He’s horrible, callous and selfish. Of course, Toji had a way of showing up at your lowest to fill your head with empty promises and gestures of affection, that charming grin shooting daggers at your weakness. In his gaze, you’re defenseless, and in his arms, you’re exposed.

Albeit late, a pestering thought carves into you, unfortunate and disgraceful to the healing you strive to accomplish; message Toji.

A set of wheels rolls above the carpet, and you see Shoko, lifeless arms hanging beyond the armrests. The bags under her eyes signify stress from finalizing late papers.

“Unnghhhh, (Y/N), I can’t do it” she laments, drooping her head to the side. You pat the top of her hair, “I believe in you.”

“What are you working on?” She quirks a brow, and you stare at the screen with her. You’ve typed an entire page of straight gibberish. “I’m getting distracted too...”

“Let’s quit and tell her to shove it.”

“You know I can’t do that” you fuss as you backspace the document. “Mm, me neither. What’s got you zoned out?”

“Nothing in particular.” You’re afraid to tell Shoko of your rendezvous, she might become volcanic and fire magma at the sound of any “-oji”.

“I know it’s not nothing. New boyfriend, hm?”

“S-something like that” you chuckle. She shapes an ‘O’ with her mouth, and wheels closer. Her bangs touch your eyebrows, and she rests her chin on her hand. Her usual dead eyes have a malicious twinkle in them.

“What’s he like? Is he tall or short?” she gasps, “did you meet him at the club? I told you it was a good idea; I really am the best advisor.”

You sigh, “It’s no one new.”

“Ooo, an old flame. Spicy. What’s his name?” You turn slowly, a nervous bite on your lips. She studies your face, and slowly hers drops.

“Do not fucking say it.”

“Shokoooo” you whine, searching for sympathy from her. Instead of that, your body is shaken violently as she whisper-yells, “Are you kidding? Get a grip! What’s gotten into you, you were fine!”

“But I wasn’t. It sucks, I feel lonely all the time.”

“You felt lonelier with him than without him!”

“I know, but...” You ball your lips in with furrowed brows, and she holds her breath.

“I wanna go see him” you squeak. Instantly, she squishes your cheeks with both hands to hold you in place.

“Absolutely. Fucking. Not.”

At home, you pace back and forth in front of the phone resting on your bed. Toji’s contact is open, and nausea is brewing in your stomach. You’re giddy and ill, working up the courage to press “call”. You really should be practicing Shoko’s advice, but you’ve long surpassed common sense. You leave and come back, spying on it from a distance. Eventually, you forgo the theatrics and grab the phone to hit the messenger app.

Three dots vanish and resurface. You can’t get it right:

'Hey stranger I got custody of ur clothes rn'

'Hey haha I missed u can I come over?'

'Yo what’s up? Still have ur clothes do u want them?'

'I’m coming to give u ur stinky clothes'

This shouldn’t be complicated, and you don’t usually perform the process of elimination for simple responses, but it’s Toji. You’re scrambling and overanalyzing, reiterating your choice of slang only to delete it all over again. You settle for a simple message. “Hey Toji, I wanted to return your clothes. Let me know when you’re available. Thanks”

Once you hit send, you run a marathon around your bedroom, tippy tapping to expel your anticipation. The churning grows as seconds pass, and so does your doubt. You tiptoe to the phone as if a displaced floorboard would activate the alarm. You’re about to tap the screen, and then your ringtone plays.

Oh god.

You take a deep breath and swipe right on the faceless profile picture labeled “dumbass ex”.

“…Hello?”

“Hey, angel.” You avoid a dull pound in your chest at the memorable pet name. “So, um-“

“I wanna see you. I’m available now, and I’ll be home by the time you get here” he states, direct and confident. His conviction validates yours, you bend to his direction.

“Okay then. I’ll start getting ready.”

“I’ll send a cab to your address. See you soon.” When he hangs up, you dive into the pile of plushies. Squeezing them for emotional support, kicking your feet in the air as you scream into your ruffled pillows like a girl’s first crush. You have a long night ahead of you.

You access Toji’s building. He must’ve notified them you were coming, as the doors were open upon arrival, and a bellhop was sent to guide you to his floor. You’re standing outside of it, clothes and a bottle of champagne in hand. Your stretchy maxi dress clings to your figure, complimenting the juicy shade of lip gloss you’re wearing—the shade he loved most on you during your marriage. You ring the bell, and it doesn’t take long before he opens the door. The scene you’re exposed to swells heat between your legs.

Toji has nothing but a towel shimmied low on his hips, v-line adorned with veins and biceps corded with muscle. He’s trimmed his hair since your last encounter, and it’s dripping wet along with the rest of his soaked body. You’ve interrupted his shower apparently, but he didn’t hesitate to rush to the door, water cascading from the raven veil, sluicing down his sculpted chest. He had to have done this on purpose, but you weren’t complaining at this point; he looked damn good doing it. You can’t disengage from the beads branching amid his pecs and through his happy trail. God, you wish you were water personified right no-

“You’re staring, dollface” he teases with a smirk. Your eyes snap to his, and you remember to breathe. You clumsily hold up the liquid peace offering, “Brought a little something.”

“Thanks. Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna get dressed.” You nod, and he marches upstairs. You don’t need comfortability; you need to be in and out of here before you do something you’ll regret.

But...is that cedarwood and vanilla? The interior gives off romantic energy at night, attractive dim lighting throughout and dull flickering pops of his fireplace in the living room. You find the source of that heavenly scent sitting on his kitchen island, and awkwardly place the bottle down. You don’t know what to do with yourself, more so you don’t know what to say. It’s hard to recite a script when things aren’t going according to plan. Did you want to apologize, or force him to apologize? Maybe you should’ve cursed him out, rehashed his asshole behavior from the past until he drowned in guilt. You want to kiss and slap him, cry in his arms until your voice gives out and disappear all at once.

There’s a beautiful clear vase in the center, crammed with your favorite flowers, and your fingers dance across the petals. “You like ‘em?” he asks stepping into the kitchen. His hair’s still saturated, but he’s sporting grey sweatpants and a black ribbed tank top. “They’re very pretty.”

“They’re for you.”

You switch between his playful expression and the burst of colors, “You don’t have to do that.” The bouquet evokes recollections of heated arguments—anytime he’d angered you to tears, and you slammed that bedroom door in his face, you always woke up to similar flowers on the floor. They were cheap, but it meant more than money; because despite the fights and disagreements, it let you know that he’d love you regardless.

“I wanted to. As thanks for bringing my clothes.” He’s pacing towards you, and you’re bound to the floor like melting wax. His gaze is captivating, and you’re entranced by the verdurous ardor that won’t deter from you.

“Thank you”, you say as he looms above you and inspects the scripture on the pale bottle. His large thumb blocks the intricate lettering he’s trying to read, “I should be thanking you. Didn’t think you’d ever message me.”

You can feel the body heat radiating off him, the airy words as he mouths the contents. His eyebrows furrow to follow his focus, while you lose yours.

“I-I should probably get going-” Without delay, Toji blocks your side with an iron grip on the island, trapping you in the confines of his broad wingspan.

“Leaving so soon? You got plans tonight?” Saying and doing are completely different stories, and from the way your feet haven’t moved, you aren’t in a rush to go anywhere.

“Not really, but I worked today and I’m kinda tired-”

“Then what better way to unwind than with a bottle? I can’t drink this by myself, might as well keep me company” he suggests, persuasion to a greater extent when your lower back hits the bar. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, right?

“I guess I can stay for a few minutes.” Toji flashes a victorious toothy grin and retrieves cups from the sink cupboard. He gives you a rounded glass, and his muscles flex below candlelight as he maneuvers the cork at an angle.

“Let’s crack this open” he says, popping the cap off and pouring a substantial amount of golden fizz into both cups.

Toji raises his glass, “A toast.”

You tilt your head but raise yours as well. “To what?”

“Us.”

Us is a funny thing—with enough effort, it becomes you and I just as quickly as it formed. You don’t know if you’re willing to accept the responsibility of eternity. The devastation of commitment could damage you forever. There’s no us, but there’s you and him. So, you clink your glass, “To us,” and his eyes never leave yours as he takes a swig. It lasts a lifetime among longing breaths and unsaid words.

He brings the champagne to the living room, “I’ll turn on a movie. You know that cheesy romcom shit you used to watch? They made a sequel.” You fall flat on containing your excitement. He grabs the remote and lays back with his thighs spread apart.

Toji pats the couch, “Come sit. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” You hardly believe that, but you remove your heels and relax upon overstuffed cushions. You opt to sit farther on the couch, and there’s an annoyed twitch on his lip at your display of boundaries. Nevertheless, he starts the movie.

Toji’s not particularly sneaky. He announces multiple bathroom breaks, returning to a spot on the couch that’s inconspicuous, but inching closer to you. The intent becomes clear when the ghost of his shoulder knocks against you, spreading his thighs wider to brush against the softness huddled into your snug figure. You’re half paying attention to the cliché performance, and half observing Toji. It’s hard not to smile when he behaves like a disobedient dog obligated to sit.

It’s cute that he arced himself to be eye-level with you. His tank rode up to expose his lower abdomen, and he adjusts himself in his sweats, jaw occasionally clenching. It could be the drink talking, perhaps you’ve had too many.

The movie ends, and you exhale a sigh of relief. “I forgot how corny this shit is.”

Toji shrugs, “I didn’t think it was too bad.”

“No way, you actually liked it?” you gasp. He huffs out his nose, smiling, “People change.”

“I’m shocked” you quip. Dusk creeps into a descending sunset, and you steal a glance at your phone screen. Bright as day, a notification from Shoko emerges. “NO TOJI >:("

You’re stumped thinking of a reply, one that doesn’t compromise your less-than-ideal situation, when Toji puts his hand over the screen. “Hope I’m not gettin’ ya in trouble.”

“Like you care.” He chuckles and slides it to the far side of the couch. “You’re right. Let’s watch another.”

This next movie's decent; a flat racing plot with excessive sequels. He unleashes an exaggerated yawn, extending his triceps to land behind your head. You quirk a brow at him, and he plays innocent. “You look cold” he says. You don’t care as much as you pretend. His pads trace the shell of your burning ear down to the lobe, to fine hair at the end of your neck. His rough hand massages the back of your head, and you lull to his chest. Be it the champagne or his actions, it’s too hot for comfort. Clamping your thighs shut spurs the intensity. His other hand languidly tests the limits of your skin, gossamer touches from your knee to your thigh. It's asking, and when you don’t object, he invites the entire palm to your knee, rubbing delicately. He brings it to your upper thigh, and retreats to the outside, getting dangerously close to your rear. The worst part is it’s not that bad. It’s intimate. Warm.

Loving.

It takes you a minute to comprehend you’re tearing up, but Toji recognizes that hushed sniffle. Airy and choked, quiet as to not be a burden. He circles a hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He tilts your chin to his gaze, soft and deceptively gentle when he asks.

“What’s wrong pretty, hm?” You say nothing through the constrains in your throat, streaking the tears that fall faster than you can wipe them. This man alone can reduce you to mush with a wave of his hand. He bares your rawest state and sculpts you back together with such purity, such devotion, that you’d plead for him to sink his clay sodden fingers into your nothing, and make you everything.

“Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

You say just above a whisper, “You’re selfish, you know that?”

“Mhm, I know” he nods, grazing his thumb across your lip.

“This isn’t healthy for us; we can’t heal like this.” He angles your head with his half lidded gaze, polishing your damp undereyes.

“I don’t need healing. I need you.”

You find passage in his hair, and surrender to temptation.

You test with a smooch. Then another. Then a series of tender, sugary kisses are pushed upon his pliant lips, and he responds in kind. You curl your fingers through his tresses as you explore the contours of his lips for what feels like the first time. Toji isn’t known for patience, but the sensation of his mildly dry lips getting smoother from your supple kisses gives him the will to savor this moment. You push and pull from each other, indulging in the messy smacks and caresses. You stop amid shared breaths to skim and nudge his yearning lips, diving into more hungry kisses. Toji abruptly lifts you over him, and you deepen its bruising passion.

You lick his bottom lip, and he groans, parting his mouth to allow your entry. You traverse the pink mass, interlacing in a wet feverish exchange. Your mind is numb, and the heartbeat in your core strikes stronger when your tongues intertwine. Toji hikes your dress up and slinks his massive hands over the plush fat of your rear. He earns a muffled moan from you as he kneads and gropes, and you feel his smirk against your lips. He grips your ass and starts to grind your hips on the bulge in his pants, a silent beg for any amount of friction. You wind with his movements, consuming him, and you hear a whimper get lost in the back of his throat.

You drag your teeth along his neck. You lick and suck in a few spots and decide to draw harshly on a responsive patch of skin while circling the fat of your pussy over his sensitive cock, taut in his boxers. His breath hitches, and he slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby please.” It’s rare to witness him begging like this, and you’re drinking it in. You lick up his Adam’s apple and pepper his jaw with kisses. “You like it?”

“Need more.” You bite his bottom lip for what seems like an exchange, but break away once he leans in. “Mm, be patient Toji.”

Your hands traverse the rugged muscle under his tank top. He aids in taking it off, and you rake over his breathless torso. You kiss along his pecs and lick the groove of his abs, delighting in the parts you missed during your separation. Toji has a tinge of red soaking his chest and ears, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing cock when you bat your eyes as you slope to the floor. You slip a finger under his waistband, playfully running over its span, and snapping it from a peak. He hisses. You palm his erection, and he grinds into it.

“Wait” he husks. He reaches for a pillow and shuffles it under your knees. “Oh, thank you” you say, but it doesn’t look like he hears you in the chaos of tugging his sweatpants down to expose his boxers. The anticipation’s killing you, so you free his dick from its confinement.

You can’t forget the mouthwatering size. His girth meets his length with equal satisfaction. The base is tan, fading to a rosy tip and a faint curve. You committed his veins to memory, small ones embossing the sides and a prominent one meandering to his tip.

You maintain eye contact with him, hand steady on the base as you deliver taunting little licks to his frenulum. You precisely ring around his urethra and trace the veins, pulsating from the flick of your wrist. Toji hisses shaky curses and bucks, beefy thighs stiffening when you roll a flat strip to his leaking head and pump the base of his cock. He didn’t want to push you, but his whole body twitched in desire. “Your mouth” he groans. You react a coy ‘huh?’, tapping the head on your tongue and slathering it in saliva with cutesy doe eyes. He’s homed in on the strings of saliva connecting him to your tongue.

An undertone of desperation in his gravelly voice, “Whole thing. In your mouth,” he expends another shaky breath, “please.”

He bites his lip and stifles a moan, watching you engulf the cockhead in your mouth. You hollow out your cheeks while the underside of your tongue holds firm, and cautiously accommodate his size. It’s too big for comfort and it stretches the capacity of your plump spit-covered lips, but you work through the daunting pressure poking your reflex. You gradually relax, periodically gagging from an unprepared increase, and he twitches at your tightening throat. Your nose finally touches the hilt, flooded in his musk, and you start to suck. You bob leisurely, adjusting to the sense, and he subtly squirms in your touch.

Toji crinkles his brows when you release a pleasant pop on his tip, purely to observe his eyes rolling back when you wreck him in a noisy suction. Noise was no longer a factor—sounds of spit and dry retching overpowered the volume of the movie regardless. He holds your hair away from you to get a better view of your face, smothered with tears and mascara, drool ceaseless down your chin. “F-fuck, you’re so good, so, so good to me” he groans.

Your tongue swirls around him as you’re bobbing, and you accompany it with a tender massage to his balls. You cup and fondle them, using the lubrication from your spit to glide your fingers across. He sighs and grabs a handful of your hair. “Need to come. Keep that pretty throat open for me, yeah?”

He rapidly shoves you down to the hilt, and you wince before he continues at a relentless pace. You anchor his thigh for stability, and he throws his head back, fucking your throat raw. There's a sheen of sweat where his bangs stick to his forehead, and he emits an endless measure of moans the closer he gets. Rambling about nonsense, yes’s and curses as he stiffens. He treats your mouth like a flesh light, evident by the throat bulge disappearing and reappearing. You happily accept the searing jaw, swaying your ass from thrumming in your saturated panties damp to your inner thighs.

You can tell he’s about to climax because he goes completely quiet minus the panting, open mouthed with his head back. You resume massaging his balls, and he shoves you to the base, “C-coming” he moans. You grab onto him, and a squeak dies in your throat when he paints it white. He shakes, groans for each spurt coating your mouth, pumping the last of his semen as you swallow.

Toji shudders when he pulls out, and his panting returns to a soft huff. You expected him to be spent, or at least sit in the aftershocks for a while until he calmed down. But he tightens the grip on your hair and forces you to look up. “Show me” he husks. You stick your tongue out, proof you swallowed every bit. “Now c’mere”, he guides you into a filthy French kiss, devouring you with much more dominance than before. It’s as though your nearness restored him. You can hardly stand your feeble knees and sopping core, but Toji takes care of it for you. With unnatural vigor, he lifts you over his shoulder, and marches up the stairs. “Ah, Toji, maybe you should take a sec-”

He swats your butt harsh, and you yelp from the sting. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You’ve been so mouthy, a damn tease, too. You’re gonna regret it.”

You’re ferried into the rather plain bedroom lined with dim hues, and a wide ceiling length mirror opposite the bed. He tosses you on the dark gray bedding and climbs over you. Your heart’s racing with thrill. Toji yanks the dress over your head, uncovering the sheer white lacey bra, similar to your underwear.

He stares like you’re a piece of meat, feasting on your flawlessness not yet smothered in hickeys and bruises, your nipples at attention under the fabric. “It’s all for me, huh?” he whispers, lust rolling off his tongue. You nod, because it’s always been for him, whether he was here or not. He buries himself in your cleavage and hums in satisfaction. His touch sends goosebumps to your skin and keeps your back arched when he drags a pad along your spine. Then your bra unclasps, and he removes it carefully, as if he didn’t want to spoil the surprise by unwrapping his gift too early. He gawks at them for an embarrassingly long pause, enough to make your cheeks hot, and you chide, “Stop staring.”

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous.” Toji submerges the bud, whirling around it while he roughly squeezes both breasts. He molds the dough of your breasts with strong palms, nips and tugs your nipple before soothing it with fierce tongue kisses. Consistent teeth grazing hikes your sensitivity before he trades it for sucking. When he switches to the other, he pinches the maltreated peak, eliciting a whimper. You merely bind your thighs and embrace the disarray being caused on your spit-soaked nipples. The cold air your abused tits receive as he withdrawals from suckling is nullified by the hickeys he leaves. You quiver from constellations of splotchy purplish red, delicious pain tingling throughout your torso. “Not so much, I have to go back to work soon” you moan, not very convincing.

“Even better; everyone’ll know who fucks you” Toji winks, and your heart skips. He dumps a nice vibrant bruise on your sternum, and advances to the dainty hem. He parts your thighs with ease, throwing them on his shoulder. Then he develops a haughty smirk.

You’re monitoring his face, until he presses a pad against your aching clit, and the subsequent juices overflowing from a huge wet patch. He plays with the spiderweb of slick between his digits, “Mm. Y’still my girl.” You blush as he sucks on them and licks his lips afterwards. Hooking under the panties, he pulls them taut, projecting the swell of your pudgy vulva in tightening lace. It sinks past your outer lips and cages your clit—you want to writhe from friction, but it makes it worse. He ghosts against you and kisses the print, and you want to scream. “Tell me what you want, or I won’t do it.”

“P-please...” you whine. You lock eyes, and you can hardly manage a word in the foreground of his intensity. How can he expect you to form coherent sentences when he sees through you like this? He gives a disappointed tut and puppeteers the strings, shifting them back and forth upon your neglected vulva. You cry out, and he cinches it together, isolating the part that pulses incessantly. He has an evil grin on his face, the bastard. “Details, baby.”

“Toji...please t-touch me alre-eady so I can come, m’sorry I won’t tease you again!” you promise, willing to do whatever it takes to reduce your sentence.

“And what else?”

“Your mouth on m-my pussy...please lick it.” You’re humiliated at the request that tumbles from your bottommost desires, but he’s satisfied. He’s never been one to shy away from dirty talk.

“Good girl.” Toji slithers your panties off, and you sigh from a loss of pressure just as his bangs tickle your pubic area. He interlocks your hands, a breath from eating you.

“You don’t look at me, I’ll stop. Think you can do that f’me?”

“Mhm!”

He hums in agreement and submerses into you. Toji’s a messy eater, especially when he’s desperate. He ovals the outer lips and precisely stirs your clit, and your stomach turns in knots from simple motions. He frames it and carefully winds around his capable tongue, really focusing on the spots that make your back curve; really focusing on your entry, as he teasingly digs in.

Toji cajoles a groan from his nose caressing your bud, then laps a level tongue over your wetness, truly tasting you. It isn’t long before his teasing farce began to crumble, and he obliged his ravenous appetite. He eats you starving, insatiable as he absorbs your twitching cunt and perfumed essence spilling down his chin. You clasp your hands, desire building in a trembling quake, but he doesn’t falter. He slurps your inner lips, and finally delivers proper care to your neglected clit. He hums a low vibration when he sucks, his pursed lips moving from a steady tongue to full on slobbering like some savage animal.

You appreciate the support his steady hands give your shaky ones. “Toji, hahhh coming” you whine, a familiar sensation flipping in your core. He lets his words fan onto you, “You know better” he husks. Your hips are bucking frantically, and so you whine, “Please, can I come sir, please please please please!”

“Hmm, I don’t know, you were ready to disobey me just now.” He says that, however the look in his eye is unrelated; it craves you, the want to make you squeal repeatedly until you’re on the verge of collapse. “’M can’t take it anymore, please let me come!” You urge your hips to his mouth, and meld into his warmth.

“Come on my face, pretty girl” he groans, just as hankering as you. He laps at your clit, and you sooner fall apart underneath him. Your whimpered plea forms an innocent sob as you spasm from overstimulation. Toji just doesn’t stop. His head careens against you, tasting everything your body has to offer. You’re suddenly regretting how badly you wanted to come.

“Toji- I-it’s too much” you protest, but it receives no response. Your release dribbles down his chin and he persists, ultimately unbinding when you lose a hold on his hands from the tremors. He diverges your lips and admires the way your mess clenches around air.

“Heh, you’re shaking. Cute.” He rubs the back of your legs, reassuring you in spite of his previous cruelty. You make a sad attempt at wiggling away, but he grabs you firm.

No running. Be good and hold your legs back.” He folds your legs to your shoulders, and you mewl, reluctantly wrapping your hands around them. ‘No’ isn’t a valid response at present.

Toji’s thumbs spread your wrinkling opening, and you feel a draft on its expanse before he spits directly into your hole. You jerk, startled, and he shushes you. He slathers his thick digits in your glistening strip, and smoothly sinks one inside. “Pussy so slippery for me. Miss this...miss you” he sighs, starting to pump. He prepares you for the main course, scrapes your walls and curls his finger to hit a spot you can’t reach. The nasty squelching sounds you echo from a mere finger casts heat on your cheeks, and he seems to enjoy your responsiveness as he adds another finger to the commotion. He twines a ‘come hither’ motion that makes your back arch from every delightful swipe against your velvety walls. Then his pink muscle undulates along your swollen bud, and you dissolve to a puddle. Your hips stutter, and surge after surge of torturous pleasure strikes you with no end in sight.

“Toji, f-fuck wait- hng s’feels too good” you whimper, and he gruffs a chuckle. He expands his fingers with precision, then chooses to slide a thumb in your butthole. The combination of both hands intruding your being, coiling into your soul jams your head with intoxicating dizziness and fictitious futures. Static pools in your stomach and circulates like the goading flickers of a raging inferno. He contacts your g-spot, and you moan, “Ah- can I, I’m close”

“I know, I know. Let go for me,” he says, or at least that’s what it sounds like when he’s face-deep. Your eyes are screwed shut, white noise before you crash and shatter around his fingers. Fortunately, you’re deaf to your own lewd wailing, clutching for dear life through contractions. It gushes past his wrist. Tears reside in your lashes, croaked sob from the slap he gives your puffy pussy. “That’s it, baby, there we go.”

Toji shows mercy and slips out. You’re still registering sultry bliss, untangling your limbs to lay slack. Empathy isn’t forever, though, because he forces your butt rearwards as he hops off the bed. Precum seeps from his tip, sheeting his shaft and heavy brimming sack. He propels your thighs to your chest, and your expression switches to fear for a second at the angry red tip sitting at your entrance. It's as if it grew since the blowjob, and you’re sure you’ll die if he stuffs that monster inside you.

He slides up and down the entrance, seizing the sore bud, “Mmm, pretty thing making a mess all over my cock.”

“Just go slow, okay?” you meek.

“Of course, ‘m not tryna kill you.” Toji doesn’t disrupt the yearning gaze between you, giving your entry several threatening caresses. He groans from the sensation of your puffy lips snuggling his length. Then he plunges the bulbous tip, encased in your passion. He’s unhurried for the most part, besides the instants he stops himself from ramming into you, cock begging to feel the fervor. He’s plugging you to capacity, and you’re only halfway in. Soreness whirrs in your walls being outstretched beyond belief, yet you’re milking what remains, dragging the rest of him in. His breath hitches, a spiderweb of veins pulses in your tight embrace and he rocks his hips further. “Look at the way you’re gripping me. Fuck” he shudders. His tip presses on your cervix, and you feel the weight of his balls on your rear.

Toji drives into you nice and slow. In this position you feel each vast stroke massaging your tumid core, squelching amidst your languid bodies. There’s almost a gloss film on his eyes as he indulges in the sweet addiction swamping his thoughts with unfiltered lust. “When you left it hurt real bad, y’know? I even cried.” You’re a bit stunned at his spur of honesty, but it’s short-lived as his thrusts get wilder and brutal. Your mouth hangs open, drool shameless out your mouth as he kisses your cervix without trying. You throb frenetically, chest heaving from the way his sack smacks against your ass and the creamy translucent ring forming at the base of his cock. His swinging strokes graze your g-spot and you sob, but he doesn’t check for your mitigation, encompassing your numb clit in the heat of his mean smacks.

“Heh, dunno if you remember, but you left a pair of panties when you moved”, Toji regresses to the tip and bottoms out repeatedly, “I’ve jerked off in them so many times, imagining you backing up this juicy pussy on my dick.” You’re hysterical, flushed from head to toe and struggling to take breaths. Toji has you locked slamming into your cervix. It coaxes a mix of pleasure and pain burning through you, and your toes curl. “You love me?” he asks. It’s unfair to ask you now, scatter-brained and drooling like a stupefied slut. But you nod, and he plasters a cocky grin. “Good. ‘S long as I have that, I’m okay.”

The unexpected flood of your orgasm quakes you, unable to warn Toji, or even ask for permission. How disappointed he’d be in you, as your juices sluice and soak, fluttering where you come undone. It’s a trail of fire, and it hurts to come. His hips sputter and he mutters a string of curses, flicking your nub faster to heighten the intensity of the earlier mess. You paw at his chest, back arched and fresh tears clustering in the haze. “Please, please!” you babble to an unresponsive Toji, stuck in a feral trance.

Toji pulls out, palpitating at the precipice of his own climax. You take this opportunity to flip on your stomach and creep to a farther part of the bed. He’s in no rush. You can’t go far like that, a net of arousal at the apex of your thighs. He climbs onto the bed and grapples your hips, thighs capturing yours. He curves your back and slips into your gummy walls anew. You grip him like a vice notwithstanding the complaints. You hate to say it, but Toji’s length bullying its way to your cervix is a poison you’d drink habitually. He snares your hair and holds the underside of your chin. “Hah- c’mon baby, you can take a little more”, he groans at a savage pace, “be a good girl.” Your ass ripples against the brawny man, hoarse voice in your ear, scrotum pummeling the overworked bundle of nerves. Your knuckles turn white on the sheets. All you should do is let him use you, that’s all you need to do, right?

Toji pans your head to the mirror, “Look how good you’re taking me, angel. You’re doing well.” His honeyed praises make you throb, attended by the bestial snap of his hips. “See that?”, he references your release slugging both legs, air heavy with sweat, “you’re such a f-fucking slut, what man could satisfy you besides me?” You sniffle and muster a pathetic babble, and he laughs. “You’re my perfect slut, though, fuck- ‘nd I’m not gonna make the same mistakes again.” There’s a tinge of regret swimming in the sea that is Toji’s confidence, and you feel it. It’s a subtle confession; please don’t go.

Then he stops. Toji lets go, and you’re impulsively manhandled in front of him while he’s behind you. He lays back, and in doing so, ferries your knees to the sides of your face and hooks his hands to the rear of your head. You’re unveiled in the reflection of the mirror, a panel that bounces back the thin sheen of sweat on your bodies, your disheveled hair and makeup, wrinkled sheets, and the sticky lacings attaching you to Toji. You want to shy from the humiliating sight. “Don’t hide your face” he coos. You glimpse a portion of his face in the mirror, a glint in his eye, “I like this view more.”

He bends his knees and pounds your chubby cunt with reckless abandon. He’s fucking your cervix, heedless grunts and panting groans as you swallow him up. Toji sputters, throbbing along your abused body and reverberating vicious staggering plap’s that could be heard on the lowest floor. You can’t breathe, let alone think, and the asphyxiation goes straight to your pussy. “O-oh fuck, heh, feel s’good. Gonna fill you up, yeah? Shit- have a mini me crawling around. Y-you'd like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Wanna carry my baby?” The headboard thuds against the wall, and in your fog, you call out for him, chanting his name like a mantra. The emotion is overwhelming, you claw at his bicep as shockwaves burst and fizzle out on your skin. “You’re dripping down my balls, sweetie, you close again?” Tougher, nastier strikes allure your orgasm, and you bleat a scream as a stream of liquid surges from you that drenches the sheets and Toji’s shaft. It’s a blinding white light, and you go limp through the violent spasms.

“Ohhh shit, that’s it baby, take everything I give you” he rasps. Toji shoulders your dead weight with ease, going silent, then plummeting you to the hilt. His balls tighten, and he manages some slushy pumps before he comes. He spurts thick, hot globs that paint and crowd your walls with greed. You milk him dry as he bucks. It overflows to trickling down his length, and his muscles quiver as he comes down from his high. His staggering pants reduce to hitching, and he relaxes your exhausted limbs.

Toji drives out and turns you around. You’re edging unconsciousness, sporadic jolts and innocent sobs carrying in your scratched throat. “I know. Breathe, baby.” He brings you flush with his chest, and you absorb his gentle puffs, the methodical beat of his heart. “You okay?” You’re unresponsive, gathering yourself in an incomplete collage of thoughts. You want to talk but it dissipates on your tongue. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead.

Then it’s muted; solely the dwindling rate at which your heart races, and the tender smooches Toji dots on your face as you cuddle. When you open your eyes, the sheets are changed, and you’re cleaned. Clearly some time has passed. You sit, and Toji comes out the bathroom, running water in the background. “How ya feelin’?”

You wince at the blunt thrum in your vulva, “Okay. How long was I out?”

“Like half an hour. Up for a bath?” You don’t have the energy to move your body. Toji scoops you bridal style and leads you to the bathroom. You found it amusing how considerate he was after wrecking your brain.

Toji spoons a generous quantity of Epson salt into the corner jet tub. He helps you in and joins once you’re stable. It’s a lavish proportion, but you decide to be next to him. Your head situates on your forearms over the tub rim while Toji sloshes water onto your back. The steam and serene jets below ship you to a luxury vacation on a tropical island, its quality comparable to spas with extensive dollar signs. You study each other.

“I’ll let you get whatever you need from your place.” You knit your brows, “For what?”

“You live with me.” You simper at his audacity.

“So, you’re the decision maker now?”

“For this, yes. Can’t risk you runnin’ off again.”

“It’s your fault I left.” He pauses, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I know. I’m sorry.”

A piece of you becomes whole at his acknowledgement. There are no petty jabs to be had where lingering truths wade in the mist. “Never thought I’d hear an apology from you.”

“It’s overdue. I was a dick, and I should’ve never treated you like that. Was tryna sort out my shit, but I didn’t have to take it out on ya.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry...but not sorry enough to let me go?”

“No. You need nobody but me.”

You chortle, and he cracks a smirk. “Arrogant asshole.”

“I love you, too.”

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