#so time princess is next in line for last place | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nichuuu · 2 months

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Scatterbrain

Word count: 18k+

They say it takes a village to raise a child.

To raise a girl as fine as Jang Wonyoung, you’d probably need 3 whole villages.

Two of those three villages would be used to train the way she walks because it’s perfect: classy, poised, elegant. The other one would have to work on her outfits because god would she need those. Hopefully the village doesn’t operate a Shein style manufacturing line. She’d hate that.

Her face is the definition of “striking the gene pool lottery”, and so is the rest of her body. Lanky arms and legs; toned, slim tummy; big, bright eyes that glimmer under the flashing lights. Personally, you like her “you’re on camera” smile the most. She knows this, and she always makes it a point to shoot it your way as she struts towards you. She stops half way to get a flute of Champagne, make that two actually, then grabs another. Those long legs can cover one hell of a distance, and they bring her right to you in a matter of seconds.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she hands you the Champagne flute in her left hand, and the rings on it shine in the light, “cause it’s starting to feel like you’re just stalking me now.”

Of course, it’s the snarky remarks that open the conversation. Jang Wonyoung, airheaded as ever m’lady, and you sip on the Bubbly that she’s very nicely delivered to you. Wonyoung is, of course, a little bit of an airhead in your books (only because she believes that you’re always there for her, nothing else), and it’s never not hilarious to watch her draw her lips into a thin line. It’s not the first time she’s hearing this from you; it certainly won’t be the last. You can’t control where you’re posted to, but you know for a fact that you’ll see her again a couple months down the road.

Cause your meetings with Jang Wonyoung are through pure serendipity really, and you certainly will start calling it that after you read that one story. You know: the one where this guy cheats on his idol girlfriend, who he has a tense relationship with, with another idol that he happens to meet just about everywhere. There’s 0 communication between the two of you when these types of events come around, and neither of you know if either of you will be there or not. Actually, it’s just you really; neither of you know if you will be there.

“Here for Kwon Eunbi again? Or are you finding someone else?” This question of her’s is customary at this point. Never once has it been perfunctory.

“Well, I was actually here to try and catch an interview with Jo Yuri, but I guess you’ll do,” you reply. Wonyoung scoffs—so I’m second place then?—and you have to assuage her oh-so-damaged ego, “you’re making this inference on your own Princess. I never said anything remotely close to that.”

And it’s that smile on her face that makes you want to kiss her really. It’s gorgeous, it’s cute, it’s beautiful. She’s given you that damned smile so many times that you could probably draw it from memory, though you’d definitely butcher it. The dress is certainly doing it justice, and you watch it brush against the skin of her legs as she shifts her weight to the other foot. I’ve never been that good at inferences. You’re far better than me, Prince, and she’s playing with her hair: twirling and untwirling it around her finger. That ribbon atop her head… Her stylist certainly knows their stuff.

“Think I’ll win an award this year?” Her question draws you away from your thorough examination of her. You take a moment to think, and you have to say, it depends, but I think you could definitely get something in some category. She gives you this inscrutable look, and she’s chuckling to herself as she looks at the crowd and sips on her champagne. You can guess what she’s about to say next: quite the crowd today, huh? And you’d reply, “Don’t think that they’re all here for you”, and that would prompt her to shoot back with, “Then who are they here for? You?”.

But of course, when do things ever go according to plan?

“Have you thought about my offer?” she asks, and you’re caught off guard.

Cause here’s the history between you two: Middle school best friends, always kind of inseparable. She was the beauty queen, it girl, and she still is; you were the writer, head of the school magazine, and you’re pretty much writing for the rest of your life. Wherever you went with her, rumours followed—Are they dating? I think they’re just friends. Maybe she’s trying to be the front of the magazine?—but you never thought much of it. It was just a simple friendship to you, nothing more.

Then the kiss she gave you in high school changed it all.

It was a party, hosted by one of your mutual friends. She kissed you, and no, it wasn’t a Spin The Bottle forfeit, nor was it a dare of any sort; it was a sincere, tender kiss in the garden—unprompted, and away from any prying eyes and soft like silk chiffon. You have to admit, the sensation had your brain mired for a minute or so. But when you came back to your senses, you kissed her right back, and things got complicated after that.

No one knew of it; it was your little secret. Wonyoung became closer than ever, and next thing you know, she declares the two of you “exclusive” but not dating. It’s because her agency has that funky dating ban thing, and Wonyoung was desperate to find a loophole, albeit a little complex. Of course, you’re willing to stay “exclusive” with Wonyoung in secret, but you started to worry that it can’t stay this way for long after the two of you get out of high school.

But as fate would have it, your career paths meet at the crossroads, and now you see her every other month or so. You still text her when you can, and the “exclusive” relationship has sustained. Now that she’s an adult and she’s bringing in mad bucks for the agency, she’s informed you of some changes in her contact. From there, the offer was birthed, and you have left it unchecked for the past four months or so, “grey ticked” as she liked to call it.

“You haven’t texted in a while, thought you died,” she continues, leaning on her elbows against the table. “Thank god you’re alive, huh?”

You hoped that she’d just forget about it, but she’s more of a mnemonist than you give her credit for. An award show is the last place you expected to be caught off guard by Jang Wonyoung, but she’s definitely a master of surprise. I uh… I haven’t really thought about it, is a lie you tell her and yourself. She smiles enigmatically, downs the rest of her Champagne.

“Let’s talk about it tonight,” she touches your chest, and it’s soft like silk chiffon, “you know where to find me, Prince.”

She struts off to join the rest of her members, stops halfway to return her Champagne flute, then looks back at you over her shoulder to give you a small wave. You sip on your Champagne as the silk brushes against her skin.

It’s a heavy breath that leaves your mouth, and it’s the rest of the Champagne that goes in.

302.

Gold lettering, black plaque. It’s grand, pretty elegant. Suits her well.

Then the door opens.

In her bathrobe, Jang Wonyoung shoots her “you’re on camera” smile. You’re earlier than expected—she lets you in—Matter of fact, I thought you might not show at all.

And it’s a must to quip back, “thought you’d be asleep by now you big baby.”

When the door closes, it’s straight to work, and here’s how that normally goes: kissing, undressing, foreplay, then finally—fucking. Not that it has to follow that order or anything, but it’s the unspoken schedule that Wonyoung’s written up. God forbid anyone goes against what the princess is comfortable with, not that you’d ever try to either way. Your voice is barely a mumble past her lips—aren’t we supposed to talk about something?—and Wonyoung’s quick to dismiss any queries, “later. There’s always time for it later”.

So it’s the kiss that’s pulling you back into her. Her front teeth capture your bottom lip, pull, drags it back a little like she’s trying to unwrap you like a present. You hold her waist, and with gentle hands, you push her back against the wall. It’s not that you’re trying to get control or anything; you’re just attempting to give her something to work with, a place to rest as she starts to work on the buttons of your shirt.

“Are you already naked underneath that?” you whisper, though it’s more of a drawl than a whisper. In response, she momentarily stops with your buttons to slide a section of her bathrobe away, giving you a good look at a column of her naked, milky skin.

In short: Yes, she is very much naked under that robe.

“Don’t get distracted, my prince. Eyes up here.”

“You’re the one that made me look, princess.”

She’s evidently struggling with the last button of your shirt, and you have to let go of her for a moment to help her get it done. Then it’s off with the shirt, and she flings it against the door for convenience sake. Your belt’s next, and that’s taken care of before you can even say, let me undress you Princess. It does make her hesitate at the clasp of your trousers for a bit. Just for a bit.

“I’d like,” her fingers are moving again, and they’re awfully quick at unfastening your pants, “for you to unwrap me on the bed instead.”

How raunchy of her. Makes you want to try her on.

Your pants fall. Your hand slithers into the bathrobe. Her jaw drops. Wonyoung my darling, and your fingers have captured one of those perky breasts, the right one to be exact. How do you ever—it’s light pressure to the nipple for you; it’s mind melting for her—get away with being such a big slut? Look at you, I’m barely even squeezing here. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes wide, mouth agape and her chin tucked into her neck. Frame it up, take a step back, admire it. It’s the face of someone who’s pent up, the expression of a needy girl who’s been aching to get some dick. Maybe if you guys had met a little sooner, she wouldn’t be this sensitive. But now? A twist of your forefinger and thumb is all it takes to draw a cry out of her, a little more pressure is enough to rain hellfire upon her. What a crazy-hot mess she is; only god knows how to clean her up and get her sorted out.

Open mouth straight to your ear, Wonyoung lets out a breathy gasp. In your fingers, the stiff peak rolls between the pads—back, forth, back, forth: motions that make her weak in her knees. It’s with great effort that she pulls your face back to hers, captures you in her quivering lips. Elegance has long been thrown out the window by now, and it’s not going to be returning for quite some time, as if you ever need it at a time like this. She’s barely holding herself up at this point. Where did the prim proper Jang Wonyoung go?

The answer’s in her kiss—gone, dusted, she was here just a minute ago though. She’s grasping at whatever inch of your skin she can find, and her nails are definitely gonna be leaving marks on the sides of your neck. You let out a small, wry laugh as you silently observe her behaviour, watching her implore without speaking, badger without requesting. It’s an art form really, the form of expression for the horny and desperate and bratty. When her hands grip your face and her nails sink into your cheek, you pinch a little harder and relish the pleasant vibrations that are sent into your mouth as she gasps. Her palms press into your jaw, and they’d probably crush it if you press any harder. Her feet patter against the wood as she starts to direct you to the bed. You kick off your shoes together with your pants.

It’s definitely a sight to take in: Jang Wonyoung in a massive king size bed, a thin bathrobe being the only thing between you and that wonderful body being the bathrobe. Maybe if she wasn’t in this state she’s in, she’d gesture to you with a come hither motion, and invite you to remove the fabric from her body. Instead, she opts for a spine tingling mewl, and that’s your invitation to her body. It’s hardly an insinuation; the fact that she wants to be unwrapped like a present is undeniable, she used the word unwrap herself. The bunny knot holding the two pieces of fabric is symmetrical—has Wonyoung’s fingerprints all over it. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s watching you with a half-open mouth, maybe you’d compliment her on her efforts a little, maybe even call her “princess” a couple more times before you properly ruin her.

(But she’s already ruined, ruined by a mere bit of pressure to the nipple. What else can make her tick now?)

Her body is at your mercy and it, quite literally, jerks as you start to pull at the knot, undoing it centimetre by centimetre, millimetre by millimetre, inch by inch. You want to see how long she can watch for, how long she can witness herself be undressed in a painfully slow fashion. Needy as she is, she’s patient as she watches one end of the rope grow longer.

Longer.

“Do you want me to speed this up, baby?” The smirk on your face would earn you a pout from her if her nerves weren’t in a bundle at the given moment.

“W-Whatever you want,” she answers, and her voice is brimming with breathy arousal. How are you getting away with all this? She’d grab your wrist and pull by now if she wasn’t so damn needy right now.

You give a dry laugh. “Then I’ll keep at this then.”

Longer.

“Fuck. Just pull it all the way already.” She looks you right in the eye as she begs you to hurry, and now you can see the need brimming in those large, round eyes, the ones that stare back at you with soft intensity, if that’s even possible. She’s good at mixing emotions into her stare.

“I thought you said—”

“Just fucking do it!”

Slack.

And the knot comes undone, and together with it, the robe falls off to the sides of her body—it’s beautiful. Never have you taken so much pleasure in undressing her, but you sure-as-hell have taken this much time to admire that wonderful, slender frame. From your standing view over her, you get down to her level to get a better look at her. It’s all part of the game of course: the way you look her in the eye, the way you touch her jaw ever so slightly to turn it towards you. The kiss is sickly sweet, and she’s starting to taste more and more like that cherry lipstick you gave her when you saw her some time ago at another event. Into your mouth, she lets out a sonorous moan. Your fingertips brush along her skin, slither down from her collarbone to her cleavage—down to that flushed pink region between her equally flushed thighs. Almost instantly, the tip of your digits are coated in slick fluids, and you raise an eyebrow at the girl on the bed.

“I literally touched you.” It’s amusement permeating your voice more than anything. In the sheets, she squirms in the slightest, eyes locked on your fingers that rest against that dripping heat and breath caught in her throat. You know that if you were to shift your finger in the slightest, you’d trigger a chain reaction that you have no power over. Her legs would clamp, her abdomen would tense, her eyes would roll. In the midst of it all, she’d maybe scream, or maybe she’d moan; either way goes. As far as you’re concerned, she’s needy as fuck at the moment, and she’s not going to let anything stop her from cumming.

“Yea, well… I can be sensitive.” Her defence is hardly a solid one, more of a perfunctory reply. Her head’s far from able to formulate a quip to throw back at you; that ability went out the window together with classy Wonyoung. “Put them in.”

You go against her request, and your fingers start to skirt the edges of that swollen, pink slit of hers. A crime—you’re going against the princess’ wishes, but realistically speaking: she can hardly be called a princess at the moment, so why comply?

A portion of the bathrobe is still clinging on to her breast. You use your other hand to push it away, and the split second of contact makes her flinch. “Jesus. You’re so fucking turned-on right now,” you can’t help but muse, all while your fingers retrace te outline of her swollen lips. She’s shivering, she isn’t breathing quite right. “Do you want to moan, baby? Do you want to moan like a good little slut for me?”

And she fixes you with a glare. “F-Fuck you… Put them in.”

No “please” this time. Shame. If she were more polite, you would’ve obliged; now you’ll just have some more fun with her.

Your thumb finds the swollen nub, and a little brush is all you need to get her straining like a psycho in a straitjacket. What will I ever do with you Wonyoung?—and she’s getting wetter by the second—You look so pretty when you’re so needy, you know that?—why would you ever, for a second, think that she’d be as refined as the last time? She doesn’t play with herself when she needs to get off; she waits till she sees you again to get off on your cock, your fingers, your mouth. Sexting was off the table, she wants you to be physically there, driving her insane as she lets herself come undone.

“You know,” and you’re almost laughing as you watch her face twist even further, “that I could do this forever right? I could just lie here, tease you for as long as I want… Or maybe that’s what you want?

She’s messy, so fucking messy. Juices are starting to soak the bed—you can feel it as your fingertips round the bottom of her slit. Housekeeping would certainly question the spot, and the two of you wouldn’t be there to reply anyway. Her cheeks are flushed, the veins of her throat are popping. It takes a considerable amount of effort to stay this composed, but you know that she’s breaking more and more. With each round your fingers make, cracks start to form along that perfectly sculpted face. The fine lines on her forehead begin to show as her brows start to furrow. Strained sounds are coming from her throat as the urge to moan is slowly winning the battle against her will. She wants control, but she can’t have it when she’s a wet, hot mess next to you. She’s being bratty for the sake of it. Your fingers are your leverage against her. It’s killing her. It’s delighting you.

And just like fine China thrown against concrete, her will shatters.

“Please! Put them in!”

And your fingers stop just at the top of her pussy. It feels like a long minute, but she isn't about to take another second of this. Her thighs clamp against your arm. Her fingers wrap around your wrist in desperation. She begs again. And again. And again. And again, again, again. The bed starts to creak as you start to move your fingers down her lips, down to the very end of her cunt.

God is she dripping.

“Will you moan for me?” you drawl huskily. A finger, two, three rest themselves against her heat.

“Yes.” There’s barely any of her original self left in there. “Please just—”

The fingers breach her opening. She screams, a high-pitched, keening cry. The noise makes your cock strain in your boxers, and you have to grit your teeth as her inner walls wrap tightly around your intruding digits. A moment of stillness comes, a moment where she’s just breathing raggedly, struggling to process this pleasure that’s racking her body faster than she can comprehend. She’s a ticking time bomb of nerves; the slightest movement in this state could send her into perdition, and she’ll barrel past that point of no return faster than both of you can imagine. God, she’s sensitive. God, she’s a mess.

The chuckle that departs from your mouth is one of perverse pleasure. “Baby,” you whisper, right into her ear as she struggles to catch her breath. She squeezes her eyes shut, and you watch with a grin as her chest rises and falls. The grip on your wrist is a vice, knuckle-white and unrelenting. She’s begging you, with her eyes, to start moving, and you have to tell her, “I can’t start till you let go of me, baby.”

And it’s with reluctance that she slips her hand off your wrist, but that hand won’t stay empty for long. You guide it to her own breast, and with a soft whisper, you tell her to squeeze. She’s servile. She complies without protest. Her eyes slowly open themselves, and you relish the way they’re lust-glazed appearance looks under warm light while her breaths level themselves out. For a moment, there’s calm. For a moment, it’s tender.

Then your fingers start to move. All hell breaks loose.

Everything she did to calm herself quickly becomes futile; it becomes undone as her back arches in a way that catches your breath in your throat. Your fingers graze her walls, pressed into each other as they slowly draw in and out of her. And mind you: you’re going slow, slow enough to make her feel every bit of your fingers brush against her insides. But it’s enough to make her curse, enough to get her mewling like a damn kitten while her hips start to rock, rubbing her clit against the base of your palm. There’s no way to describe how needy she looks; her want is beyond words, and you’ve barely even started. Three fingers is the most you’ve ever put inside her. Clearly, it’s working wonders for her.

And now you yourself have to admit: you’ve wanted her for some time now. Since the last time you saw her, you’ve fantasised about that slim tummy twitching, about holding that snatched waist once more, about those long legs wrapped around your neck while your tongue and fingers turn her into a pliant plaything. For weeks, you’ve wanted nothing more than pulling Jang Wonyoung apart, reduce her into a withering mess wherever you guys are and get her screaming till she’s sore. You can’t even begin to describe what you’ve done with her in your dreams, nor can you ever convey how it feels to desire her as much as you have. So, you put all of it into action, sordid sentiments channelled into your fingers that are making those cute features twist and contort in perverse pleasure. She’s rambunctious, and her juices are quite literally soaking your hand, spilling the strongest sillage of lust all over the bed.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking messy?” You’re really just trying to see how much you can get away with at this point, though the answer seems to be: just about everything. Your fingers start moving faster. You love the way her cheeks are starting to flush even more. “Are you always this wet? Or is it just for me?”

The squelching is lewder than you can ever imagine. The sound of her slick, wet heat being breached by your fingers is enthralling. Add the sounds she’s making into that and you have the ultimate erotica audio that can bless mankind. She’s panting, she’s moaning, she’s whining—she’s doing it all really, and you’re just using your fingers. God knows how she’ll react once you’re inside of her, rock hard meat stretching her out instead of a few fingers fiddling around in warm walls.

But hey, the sounds she’s making are ever so erotic, and she’s definitely making your blood flow to all the right places. She feels out of place; you can’t put your finger on what’s wrong in this whole thing. It’s probably a small detail, something you’d overlook over the sight of her chest heaving as air shoots out and gets sucked back into her mouth, her whole body straining and convulsing against the bed while you get a thumb on her clit and rub at a languid tempo. Probably something miniscule, not worth mentioning because all your attention is focused on the look on her face (you want to mess up the makeup so badly it’s almost frustrating). And no, you’re not trying to make her cum in five seconds; she’s just really riled up—bundle of nerves and trigger happy. Probably hasn’t been treated this way in a while, probably hasn’t had three fingers twisting around, sliding in and out of that tight wet hole slow enough to make her feel every bit of skin against her walls; fast enough to make her combust if you were to speed up, in, like, forever.

“I–I…” She’s quite literally mewling, and the sharpness in her voice is so cutting that it makes an incision in a bag inside you that’s keeping all the perverse thoughts at bay. The thoughts are leaking out now, and it’s almost impossible to stuff them back in. You want her against the glass: tits against the window and ass in your hands while you pump and pump and pump into that slick tight hole; you want nothing more but to pick her up and have her lock her legs around you, tight frame flushed against you while you nail her against one of these walls that surround you; you want to unhinge that jaw and watch that pretty mouth—now parted to let the stream of moans flow—take your cock in and out between those kiss-swollen lips and watch the drool leak out the corners of her mouth. Shit. It’s killing you. Jang Wonyoung, dolled up. She’s killing you.

(No way in hell are thighs meant to be this hot, and lips are not supposed to look this delicious. Yet Jang Wonyoung somehow goes against every fucking norm, fights it naturally and effortlessly and wins like a seasoned warrior. So just for her case: her thighs can be this hot and flushed, and her lips can look this fucking appetising. You kiss her; it’s sloppy, it’s lewd, it’s hot and everything in between. Mark her neck, mark that row of skin above her right collarbone, mark her everywhere. Cusses are flying—god forbid her agency finds out about the things hse says while she’s getting fingered. She's making a mess out of herself. She’s making a mess out of you.

Fingers, just fingers and she’s already looking like this: hair fanned out, frazzled, looking like she just went through a car wash and yet somehow has her make-up intact. Fuck. You want to watch the mascara run, watch it streak while she tears up as she’s choking down cum and she’s struggling to take in air. Pretty little princess, messy and glacially being turned into some improper slut. It’s hard to not smirk while you ruin her with the same fingers you use to type articles about her—fingers that sing praises and can also make her moan enough to make her throat hoarse.)

The rhythm of your hand makes her body roll. Her toes–painted over, fresh manicure—curl into the sheets. Doe-like eyes stare back at you, plump red lips part to gasp your name, throat muscles strain trying to curse and moan at the same time. The fingers are gliding in and out and in and out and she’s begging you to not stop (like hell you ever would) in those choke up little sobs while she’s—

Oh fuck baby I can’t I can’t I can’t — Anything. I’ll do anything. Please just let me cum. I’m so fucking close baby. Please just let me fucking cum. I’ll be a good girl. I-I promise I’ll be a good fucking girl for you just… Fuck!

—blue screening on your fingers: lost in the sauce or whatever. Pliant plaything, docile doll. You’re certain she hasn’t gotten off in at least a month if the way she’s taking it is any sort of yardstick. She’s far beyond drenched, far beyond salvation and way off the deep end of the “needy” pool—drowning herself in her own sea of sighs and gasps and moans and loose phonics that slip out of her mouth. Ostinato of your fingers squelching in her cunt; half time rhythm of the creaky bed; melody of the chorus of Jang Wonyoung’s voice—music to your ears.

And there’s lots to unpack from the moment you locate that soft spot at the top of her pussy. There’s a lot of cussing, a lot of jolting, a fair amount of whining and your name is thrown somewhere in that mix. You find her lips, she kisses back, one of her hands grabs your arm, nails dig in and stay there. Flurry of actions, filthy language—fucking hell, someone stop her.

Bottom line: lots of action. You find it congenial to start from the part where it quite literally ends her world. Once your digits curled up into that sensitive patch of flesh, it was all over for her.

You can pinpoint the exact moment where the orgasm rips through her body, the exact moment where her muscles seized so perfectly that her back arches. The pulse around your fingers is strong, walls tight around your digits and your thumb gently rubbing on her clit while the pleasure rolls through her body, molten iron libido converting the feeling between her thighs to electricity that makes her short circuit. The moan is breathy if anyone’s asking, and the look on her face—twisted, perverse satisfaction: superimposing need and want—has a whole foot over the line of pornographic. Wires are fraying in her head, her vocal cords are strained, she’s ruining the sheets with her juices; you’re complicit in every damn part of this, and guilt is the last thing on your mind.

Then her back falls back flat against the mattress, and the sheets ripple as her body makes a dense thump against the bed, punctuating the sigh she releases into the air. Nerves are unbundling themselves. She’s sweaty and panting. Your fingers are beyond soaked.

“Messy,” you muse, slowly drawing your juice slicked fingers out of her cunt. You bring them to her mouth. She languidly tastes herself, sweat-darkened sheets hugging the muscles of her shoulders and lining her ribs. She looks so tiny in the bed if you looked over the fact that her legs were dangling over the edge of the mattress, and that’s easy to do once you lean in for a kiss.

(It’s not hard to slip your tongue into her mouth, and there’s barely any fight left in her as you roll her nipple between your index finger and thumb. The sweat-matted hair sticking to her forehead adds a nice touch to her face.)

“Such a good girl.” Your tone is warm as you praise her, and a hand moves to cup her cheek in an act of tenderness. Her eyelids flutter shut. She puts the weight of her face into your palm.

“Do I get my reward now?” she whispers, and it’s more of a plea than a question really. You take a moment, not to think, but to drag out the suspense for a little more before you give her an answer. You take guilty pleasure in knowing that you could keep her on tenterhooks for the whole night—the only thing stopping you is the throbbing of your cock in your boxers and the look of sheer need on her face. If you could: you’d drag this out a little longer, maybe tease her a little and call her more names. You still could do that, but you’d much rather fuck her instead.

“Where do you want it?” your thumbs hook into the waistband of your boxers and hook them down. Your cock springs free from its cottons confines, and Wonyoung’s eyes instantly dart to it. She may be a little obsessed with your cock, but only a little when she’s depraved (which is right now). Before you can even react, she has your shaft in her hand, lanky fingers wrapped around it and pumping it with considerate strokes.

“I want a big load in my ass.” she requests, far from innocent and banking more towards improper, which seems to be a pretty big theme of hers tonight. “I’ve been wanting to feel daddy’s hot load leaking out of my ass for a long time…” The strokes delivered to your length grow firmer and firmer by the second. “Please?”

The spikes of pleasure her small hand delivers to your system is really making it hard to say no at the given moment. Of course, she’s well aware of it, and she’s definitely feeling so damn smug right now. And so with a very clouded mind, you nod. She smiles smugly, unaware that you’re about to fuck that smug little smirk rig of her pretty face. Conveniently, she’s already on her back—it’ll make the process so much easier.

“I take it that the lube is in your bag?” You raise. She grins and nods.

Sure enough, you find it in the exact same place as it usually is: side pocket, right next to her lipstick. You toss it towards her and move around her, slip her ankles over her shoulders. She lies still, unmoving and obedient as her left calf goes past her head, then her right. You lean forward, and she gasps as she's almost bent her completely in half. She’s flexible; this position won’t bring any harm to her, but it is congenial to ruin her asshole and leave her sore for the next day or so, which is exactly what she wants, but probably not how she imagined herself getting it. She cracks open the lube, and with precision, squirts a generous amount of it on the tight ring of her ass, making eye contact with you all the while as the clear liquid gathers at the puckered ring of muscle. The tube is discarded to a side when she’s done, and she uses her hands to spread her asscheeks for you, inviting you to take your liberties with her hole.

“Come on Daddy,” she urges you. “Come fuck this ass,” she continues, her hands spreading her ass cheeks even wider as you start to line yourself up with the tight ring. “Wreck this fucking hole Daddy, I can fucking take it.”

To hear her say those words was almost enough to have you cum right there and then. You press the tip of your cock at the open, gaping hole of her ass, swirling it around the entrance, collecting more of the copious amounts of lube around it. She was generous with the amount of lube she dispensed; you're about to be generous with the strokes you're gonna make inside that ass.

(She yelps when you slide inside her ass. God does it feel so fucking divine.)

She is so tight and wet and hot that you think you could’ve cum with your first thrust inside her. Her pussy was tight and hot, but her ass was even tighter and even hotter. Even though your cock was slick with lube, it did close to nothing to keep the sheer tightness of her asshole from clenching around you like it was a really small glove. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been inside her ass, but it sure as hell felt like a novelty every single time you entered that tight ring of muscle. Fuck. The heat, the tightness—sublime. You think you could cum in a matter of seconds if you didn’t have self control.

“Go!’ she hisses, through the pain and discomfort. “Fuck me. Fuck my ass!”

You would have been happy to stay there, buried balls deep in Wonyoung’s ass, but her own words goad you into moving—slowly at first, but with a steadily increasing pace, you begin to fuck Wonyoung’s ass with long, slow strokes. She hisses—part glee, part discomfort—as your shaft starts to pump itself in and out of her ass. You draw yourself out till only the base of you tip remains inside of her, and then you thrust back in, hard, hard enough to make her yelp out in pained pleasure while she grits her teeth and watches your rock hard shaft fill her ass. It's a perverse show for her, and it brings you a sort of dark satisfaction in knowing that past all that discomfort she’s feeling, she loves the way your cock stretches her out and fills her defenceless little hole.

With her ankles over your shoulders, you’re practically spearing yourself vertically into her ass, fucking her deep and making her feel every inch of your throbbing meat inside of that hot, tight hole. Every penetration is punctuated by a deep, guttural groan from Wonyoung, sometimes a curse, or something along the lines of: fuck. So fucking full. You know for a fact that the pained sounds you hear now will turn into airy gaps of pleasure once she gets used to the discomfort, and that she’d probably be a mewling mess by the time you reach the stage where she can take you in and out of her ass with only pleasure in her system and no pain. For now, you’ll settle with the pace you have—slow, long strokes in and out of her ass while she squeezes her eyes to block out all sensations distracting her from enjoying the sensation of her ass being filled with cock. You have to admit that she’s doing a great job at it, and your praise vocalises itself in the rather harsh form of, “what a good little slut.”

(And here’s something interesting you noted: never once in this whole thing did she ask you to stop, nor did you ever think about stopping to let her adjust. If this was anyone else, you would have given them a moment to breathe upon entering, and you certainly would be checking on their wellbeing throughout it all.

Thing is—the two of you know her too well to know that you could only dream of stopping once you got started with her, and it could only end in two ways. 1) You cum in her. 2) You cum on her. Edge her and you’ll never get the end of it, you would know. The last time you pulled a stunt on her like that, she left you tied to a chair with a vibrator taped to your cock till you were begging and a cummy mess. It wasn’t pretty. She could dominate if she wanted to, but she preferred to be a manipulative brat instead.)

It’s not long before she’s desensitised to the pain, and your slow pace is not enough, no, not for Wonyoung. Next thing you know it, she hissing for you to go faster, fuck her harder—I told you to fuck my ass Daddy. Don’t hold back on me now—and deeper. She swears, all three languages that she knew strung together shabbily like they were put together on some shitty production line and thrown out at random—and while you made little sense of the sounds coming out of her filthy mouth you knew what they meant.

Harder. Faster. Rougher.

Then you fuck her ass. Hard and fast.

You almost surprised yourself with the liberties you were taking, drilling in and out of her butt with the same speed and depth that you would use with her mouth and pussy.

“Yes!” she shouts—a loud, full shout. “Yes! Fuck me like this! Pound me, fuck me until you cum in my slutty little ass!”

You grunt in reply, because it was all you could do. The faculties of human language have long since abandoned your grasp and ability, and nothing else exists in your mind except the thought of filling her tight, hothole with warm, white semen. Her eyes lock with yours and you only find that they’re full of need, nothing else (not like she’s capable of displaying any other emotion at the moment). The rest of you, every fibre of your being, was focused on pounding Wonyoung’s tight little hole as hard and fast as you possibly could. Her ankles bounce helplessly behind your head, her knees press into her shoulders and her breath is ragged; sweat drips off your forehead and onto her tits, and your hot breath mixes with hers as you struggle to keep yourself propped up with your arms.

In short: the two of you are sweaty and messy (one more so than the other. Take a pick, not sure if there’s a prize for guessing right), victims of lust and slaves to pleasure. You blame Wonyoung just because you can.

For a few delicious moments, there is absolutely nothing in the world aside from the tight hot sheath of flesh around your cock, the warm flesh of her legs against your shoulders and the strands of sweat-slick hair that fly just about everywhere, all topped with the lewd, filthy, obscene words spilling from Wonyoung’s mouth. For a few delicious moments, she feels nothing but the feeling of her tight hole being stretched and used by the cock that turns her face into a wrought outlet of pleasure while she lets filthy words and exclamations spill from her lips.

Try as you might, you couldn’t have it last forever. Not when you were already so turned on from watching her writhe and twitch under your fingers. Not when the sheer, pure pleasure overwhelming you was more than enough to cause you to cum at any moment.

And when she orgasms for the second time, her ass tightening exponentially around you—there is little you or anyone else could have done to stop the inevitable.

“I’m gonna cum in your ass, Wonyoung,” you hiss through gritted teeth, your lust and pleasure-addled brain on the edge of losing all comprehension.

“Cum with me! Fill me!”

And so you do it, burying yourself hilt deep inside the quivering woman’s asshole before filling it with the last of your cum, giving her every last drop you had left in your body, leaving rope after rope inside her sore, well-used, cum-filled asshole. You almost black out, and you quite literally have to dig your nails into the sheets while Wonyoung’s own orgasm takes over her body, making her twitch and her ass contract—milking every last bit of cum from your throbbing, twitching length till it was nothing but a dry, hard rod inside of her creamy asshole.

There’s silence that is punctuated by both of your ragged breaths. She looks at you, you look at her. And the two of you can’t help but chuckle at the mess you’ve made of each other. You want to remember the way her nose wrinkles as she teases you, “you fucking animal”, and you want, so badly, to burn the image of a sweaty, weary Jang Wonyoung, folded in half beneath you like she was a piece of origami paper, panting and gasping as a fresh load of cum spills out of her ass.

It takes energy, but you bend down and kiss her, letting her sweaty calves slide off your equally sweaty shoulders as you do. She’s satisfied, for now, and she pulls you down next to her on the hotel bed with one hand and gathers the cum leaking out of her ass with the other.

“Look at this,” she whispers, and your eyes train themselves on the pearlescent, sticky, slimy, fluids that run down from her fingertips slowly. “You made such a big mess inside my ass,” she chides before bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking your cum right off her fingers like it’s a delicacy. “Now I have to clean all of this up. You’re lucky I like the way your cum tastes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Um… Ew?”

Wonyoung smirks and gently nudges you with her left foot.

“It’s okay,” she tells you, all smug and everything. “I know you love the way I taste too.”

* In the dark, her small hand creeps around your torso and grasps yours.

“You’re awake, aren’t you?” She’s whispering right into your ear, and it’s a sensation you want to be able to hold on to for the rest of your life. “I know your eyes are open.” The feel of her small fingers rolling the knuckle of your index finger sticks itself in your head like a post-it. “ I can hear and feel you tossing, you know?”

Okay. No dodging.

The sheets stay still as your shoulders turn. You roll over, face her, and you really just want to capture the way the night lights paint her face: doe-like eyes reflecting glimmering pools of moonlight, warm yellow light painting her cute-yet-so-fucking-gorgeous face in a manner that not even Van Goh could copy, lips parted slightly as if in mid speak. She’s right there—you can kiss her if you really want to.

“Are you still mad at me?” She asks, tender with her tone. “I know that I fucked up, okay?” You can tell that she’s not even trying to look pitiful at the moment, but the way her face is sculpted really makes you want to just hold her to your chest and stroke her hair. Sincere are her words—heart heaved into her mouth. “I don’t blame you if you’re still mad. It’s your right. But… Just hear me out? Please?”

If you were mad, you wouldn’t have let her hold your hand the way she was now. If you were mad, you would’ve pretended to be fast asleep; ignore her pleas and just close your eyes and fall asleep. Alas, you can never stay mad at her for too long.

“I was… Never really angry, Wony.” Your tone is a lot softer than you would ever expect, but you know it’s because you probably needed this talk more than she did. “I... I’m sorry if it came across that way.”

And she studies you for a moment, lets the sound of your breathing fill the space as she furls her upper lip into her front teeth, and it’s a perfect moment for you to try and understand what’s happening in her head. She’s a complex creature really; understanding her is like finding a meaning that everyone can agree on when you look at abstract art.

Down below, you can still hear the cars moving through the street. Billboards and screens are still on, and from the window in your bedroom, multi-coloured lights filter into the room past the blinds like moonlight through bamboo leaves. The sheets you lie in are fresh, and they feel nice and smooth against your skin, and they smell like roses. The mattress creaks a little as Wonyoung shifts her weight, and you have to admit that you’re half-drunk on the scent of her shampoo.

“You must have been scared,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I got really emotional. I… I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know how to reply to that. Not now at least. Maybe it’ll come to you the next morning.

You give her a sweet smile. You hug her to your chest. You want to remember how she feels in your arms.

The gentle trickle of water down the arch of her spine is really something—a steady stream flowing down her back, running over the muscles of her shoulders, the curve of her breasts and fraying at her plump ass. You can’t remember the last time you showered with her, but you certainly remember the view being this good.

In the shower of room 302, Jang Wonyoung lets the warm water hit her skin from the rain shower nozzle. Her hair—wet and freshly shampooed (and conditioned)—sticks to her back. Creamy skin glistens, small beads of water affix themselves to random parts of her body, stay there for one or two seconds, then roll down in streaks, almost as if they too were admiring Wonyoung’s well-sculpted figure.

Slim fingers grasp locks of hair. She lifts and looks over her shoulder, the whisper of a grin on her face as she shoots a beckoning wink. “Are you gonna help me soap my back? Or are you just gonna keep staring at my ass?”

“Don’t you have to, like, turn off the water first?” you ask, and you already know what she’s gonna say, but you just want to hear her say it. For memory sake.

“Mmmm.” Her humming as she ‘ponders’ reverberates in the shower, floating over the sound of water from the shower head falling to the floor like rain. “No… Adds to the atmosphere, don’t you think?”

Ah. There we go.

“Then could you at least step back?” you request. This shower is comically huge—long length, breadth about the same length as your arm span. In the space, she looks so tiny, but you know for a fact that she could probably walk to the other end of the shower in a stride. You’re not one to disregard the facts, but you do like to live with a bit of imagination.

Wonyoung chuckles, low and sonorous. She pushes her hair over her shoulder, then—painfully slowly—walks back till she’s out of the stream of water. Water wastage is the last thing on her mind. She stops when she feels your hands on her back, and she looks over her shoulder, expectant. You move your hands and the soap lathers as it’s spread. You start from the centre of her back, rubbing gently in the section where the muscles of her shoulders meet and working your way outwards and upward to her shoulders. Then it’s down from there, your palms moving in small circles and covering every inch of skin.

“You’re good at this,” she mutters, watching with intent as your hands start to trail to her lower back. “Maybe you should’ve been a masseuse instead of a writer.”

“Uh… Patronising much?” You chuckle, watching as her back muscles twitch a little when you apply gentle pressure. “The pay’s about the same,” the soap makes patterns across the area above her ass—spirals of foam that stick to her skin like styrofoam flowers. “The hours are probably the same… But I don’t think I can live on rubbing someone’s back really hard. I Think I’ll just save this service for you, but only for when we meet.”

Humored, Wonyoung offers a giggle, high pitched and cutting above the sound of water striking the floor tiles. She shifts her weight to her right foot, making her body slant a little. Her skin is soft under your palms. Your hands are going lower and lower, slowly spiralling towards the curve of her ass that’s literally just a centimetre away.

“You know…If you take up my offer, you can do this for me everyday.”

Your hands slow to a stop. You raise your head a little to find her searching for your gaze over her shoulder. “Oh?”

“Yea.” Her voice is low, like a mother trying to persuade her child to eat their vegetables. “Every night, we can be like this: you soaping my back, us chatting… Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”

Your lip furls behind your front teeth. “Yea… It really does.”

And in her gaze, you sense her sensing your apprehension. “What’s stopping you from taking it up then?”

(For context, here’s the deal proposed by her company: the two of you go public with the relationship, get clout for the company, and Starship will let you lead your lives together—no qualms, no disturbances. She can visit you whenever, live with you, appear outside together with you like it’s a regular Tuesday night; you get to date the girl you fell in love with all those years ago for real. Only issue: once you get the last stroke of your signature out on the contract, you practically agree to blurring the line between your private and public life. Press will be all over you like ants after you step on their nest, you probably won’t get to enjoy a cup of coffee in peace, everyone will suddenly want to curry favours with you… Was it worth the sacrifice?)

You find it hard to meet her eyes, and so your gaze affixes itself on your hands. It’s not like you don’t love her or anything, but your apprehension makes you feel like shit. It shouldn’t be this hard to say yes, yet the idea of selling your life of privacy to live a life with her makes you screech to a halt at the crossroads. Sometimes (in these moments), you wished that you didn’t always make decisions with your head and your heart.

As the shower continues to run, Wonyoung slowly turns around. One hand finds yours, the other gently takes you by the chin and raises your eyes up to her. She’s tall, and the two of you are staring eye to eye; same height, different trains of thought.

The hand on yours guides you to her breast. Eyes locked with yours, she lays your palm flat against her tit. The skin beneath your fingers is slippery, but it doesn’t remove any of the familiarity from the sensation. Then she squeezes, and the flesh spills out between your fingers like putty. She gasps—airy.

“Don’t you want me?” She whispers, and it’s raunchy more than anything. It isn’t aggressive, but it’s certainly blurring the line between demanding and caring. “Don’t you want to be able to fuck this pretty little pussy every night?”

She’s really far from home base. “Wony…”

“Don’t you love owning me?” She’s squeezing harder. Her knee twitches. Sopa’s spilling out of your fingers. You’re certain that you’re gonna mark her. She doesn’t care. “Don’t you want me all over you? Every night?”

“It’s not that Wonyoung.”

“Then what’s on your mind?” She’s not prodding for an answer, nor is she trying to demand a reason for your silence. She wants to understand you, to internalise what’s going on inside your head. You have no reason to lie.

“Will it all really be okay?” you ask sincerely. “My family, my life… Will… Will it all really be…”

She understands where you’re coming from (if the relieving of pressure around her own breast is any indication), and she’s starting to tune herself to the frequency of your worries. “If you’re wondering if you’re gonna be harassed—you won’t.”

“Yea but—”

“I promise you: I will do everything I can to make sure that you will be safe. You and your family–if so much as a finger is laid on any of you, I will quit.”

“Wonyo—”

“No one will intrude on you. You won’t have to live with the flashing lights. I give you my word: I will make sure that everyone who wants to invade your privacy will leave you alone. You and your family will all be left alone.”

If it’s possible for sincerity to ring clear, Jang Wonyoung has absolutely made it happen. Sweet like honey; she’s left you feeling like you had a spoonful of it. And just for good measure, she steps closer and repeats once more: “I promise.”

Considering that your hand was at the left side of her chest, this was really a “I swear. Hand to my heart” type of deal (whether it’s intended or not is purely up to your discretion).

And as you gaze into those eyes, you want to remember the way she gazes at you softly, gently, tenderly. If it weren’t for your hand on her tit, you would’ve considered this one of the more tender moments you’ve shared with her. Not that it’s not or anything… Just that it’s a little hard to call this a loving moment when you can literally feel her nipple poking into the flesh of your palm at all times of the conversation.

“Are you sure you won’t land yourself in trouble?” you ask her, and she’s quick to scoff.

“Of course. I make too much fucking money fo those higher up fuckers to not listen to me,” she reminds you.

Well… Then that settles about everything then.

“Okay,” you tell her. “Okay… I’ll do it.”

The corners of her lips play up in a smile. She leans in, kisses you—no tongue, closed mouth—and lets the hand keeping yours at her breast fall. Long arms wrap around your waist and she pulls you close, flushing her tight frame against your body. When lips part, she whispers a soft I love you, a sparkle in eyes that lingered for a moment.

But only for a moment.

Then—without you noticing—her hand snakes down and grips your rapidly hardening shaft, and she squeezes. This time, the line between demanding and caring is clear as day, and she’s chosen to play her ball to the court of demanding. With a gleam in her eye, she begins stroking with her closed fist, and she pumps your stiff length at a slow but steady rhythm, adding an occasional twisting motion to her wrist, corkscrewing her fingers around your cock, increasing the pleasurable shocks she was sending through your system with each pump of her hand. It was almost like she wasn’t the sweetest, loving girl in the whole world just two seconds ago.

“Jesus fucking…” You can’t even finish your sentence. Your teeth grit. Your fists clench. It’s hard to breathe. “Maybe… A little bit of a heads up next time?”

She smirks proudly, watching as you tilt your head back and let out a groan. “Where’s the fun in that?” And gently, she pushes against your chest, guides you to the wall. When your back presses against the cool tile, she presses herself against you. She leans in, hot breath on your skin, and then the feeling of her lips against your jaw almost makes you yelp. She kisses a path down your jaw, paves a way towards your neck to get cheeky: sucking, nibbling, licking the skin of your neck while she keeps the movement of her hands slow and considerate. The shower continues to run.

Do you know—she breaks contact with your skin for just a second—how fucking horny—her breath’s tickling your ear, sending shivers down your spine—you make me?—and she squeezes a little harder around your shaft, not enough for it to hurt, but enough to feel you throb in your hand and make you gulp a little. She starts going faster—jerking, fucking pumping your length in her closed fist, and it’s almost impossible to keep your eyes open; your eyelids flutter shut. Your head rests against the wall, a sigh slipping past your lips. It’s filthy really—down from the way she catches you off guard to the way she makes your skin sore after she’s done feasting. Almost every interaction with her in a private space is as X-rated as this; it’s hard not to get into a situation like this around her. You know: a situation where the two of you are naked and getting really touchy and actively trying to get each other as many times as humanly possible.

“Fuck yes baby…” you rasp, your nails starting to eat into your palms as she the sound of her hand sliding up and down your dick starts to cut above the steady stream of water. With each rise of her hand, the pad of her thumb plays with the head of your member, and when it sinks down, she twists her wrist in a screwing motion. Rinse and repeat; up and down and up and down and fuck. “You’re so fucking good at this.”

She hums in reply, and she has your earlobe between her teeth the next second, nicking you mischievously, sending small pricks of pain shooting through your system as she adjusts her grip on your cock without ever breaking her motion. Next thing you know, your tongue is inside your ear, and she’s leaning in so close that when you open your eyes, you’re practically looking over her shoulder, looking down the curve of her back that glistens with moisture and soap bubbles.

“I love this cock so fucking much,” she whispers, a bit of a hiss in her words as she takes the head of your cock between her forefinger and thumb and pinches lightly. “It stretches me out when I need it.” her fingers start to trail down your slipper shaft, letting the smoothness of her palm rub against your whole length, “fills me when I want it.” She’s milking the precum out of you, making you all leaky and squirmy as she starts pumping faster. “And it’s so fucking big that I can choke on it. You know how much I love being choked.”

She chooses that last bit to make eye contact with you, and she’s practically served you what she wants next on a silver platter. The next move is clear cut and simple; no words need be spoken. You were going to fuck her—and you mean properly fuck her—with a hand wrapped around that small throat. How you were gonna do it was still a mystery, but you figured that it’d slowly come to you, but it will definitely be related to the mirror and the sink outside and the mirror in front of it. At once, you reach over to the handle of the shower, and you turn it down to the handheld showerhead mode. Wonyoung bites her bottom lip, perverse glee painted all over her face as you use it to wash the soap off her back. She’s watching, waiting, probably drenched down there and aching to be stuffed full of cock.

She’s almost shaking with excitement as you finish washing all the soap off her body. You’d hardly consider her clean, but it won’t hurt to hop back into the shower again once you're done with her. The shower door swings open and you’re cupping her pussy, dripping wet while stumbling out with her, lips locked on hers and her hand on your cock as you push her against the sink of her hotel room. From the moment her mouth opens and let the moans pour out while you rub her clit to the moment her hand leaves your cock to cradle your face, she’s practically radiating need from the pores of her skin. You can’t help but playfully remark, “you’re such a fucking loser”, while your thumb thumps against her clit and sends pleasure tearing through her system. Weak in the knees, she holds on to you for support.

And the moans (those fucking hair-raising moans), they tumble out of those plump lips like marbles down a ramp, and they mix with the sound of your lips smacking against her skin as you start to leave a trail of kisses down her neck, doing to her what she did to you in the shower; you give her a taste of her own medicine, and the way she’s titling her head back to let you mark her freely makes it almost seem as if it’s the intended outcome of her actions. It’s like she knew that you would get back at her, and it wouldn’t come as a surprise if you ever find out that she gets off on knowing that she can manipulate you in her own bratty ways—get you wrapped around her finger and have you doing all the things she wants you to do without having to tell you. Not that you have something to gripe about it, but you’re just so amused (and that’s just one word to describe how you feel) by how she goes about her ways.

“Come on,” she manages to whisper, all while you’re busy sucking on the skin just below her collarbone till it’s sore. She has a lot of pride in her voice for someone who’s quite literally quivering. “You know you want to fuck me. Give me a good creampie again.”

You lift your head for a moment, and you take in the look of almost childlike excitement on her face as your hand finds its way to her throat. It’s perverse excitement, that lewd exhilaration of knowing that she was about to get what she wanted, and albeit a little messed up, it was pretty hot in its own way. When your fingers gently wrap themselves around her throat, you can feel every muscle in her body tense in anticipation, as if she didn’t get enough from the bedroom earlier.

“Up on the counter baby. Let me see how messy you are down there,” you whisper.

She knows what to do, and she has herself propped up on the counter and engaged in open mouth kissing. She doesn’t need you to tell her to spread her legs, and she definitely doesn’t need you to tell her how cute she sounds when your fingers slip inside of her, feeling around the mess you’ve made of her and coating your digits in her fluids. Your index and middle finger are slick with her juices when you retract them from inside her, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Messy as ever,” you muse, making a show of sucking her juices clean off your fingers. She’s sweet and borderline tangy—a taste that you’re accustomed to, and you will never get tired of it. She’s biting down on her lower lip, the skin wrinkling under the pressure of her front teeth as she makes a sound that’s close to a purr.

“You made the mess.” She has her eyes locked on yours as you raise an eyebrow, prompting her to follow up after her first statement. Not that you didn’t know what was coming, but more that you wanted to gently coax it out of her, because it was so fucking hot to hear what she had to say next. “You clean it up.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. She watches you with intent eyes as you sink down to your knees, waits with bated breath as you lower your face till the glistening, pink folds of her pussy are right in front of your face, flushed thighs around your ears. Her excitement is almost palpable, and you can hear the sharp inhale she takes when your palm finds its place on the inside of her left thigh, pushing gently to give you better access to her heat (you’re really just trying to drag out the tension if you were being completely honest with yourself). You lick your lips, lean forward till your mouth is hovering above her slit.

“You better moan for me this time,” you tell her, and you’re making sure to make your breath hit her slick as you speak. “You have such a wonderful voice. Put it to use.”

Praise mixed with the slight hint of authority—it’s enough to make her nod furiously and implore you with doe eyes to just get on with it. With a smirk, your lips find the swollen nub at the top of her entrance. You suck on it. Hard. And almost at once, her thighs clamp around your ears and her hand is on your head, like it’s some sort of natural instinct for her when you’re eating her out. Keeping to her word, she cries out—keening, whiny and ever so fucking bratty, and it’s the the holy grail of every wet dream. Nothing in the world could bring you more satisfaction than that shrill, airy cry she lets out when the pleasure ripples through her body, and you’re just getting started.

Your mouth opens and your tongue flattens itself against her folds, (She tastes so good. You want all of it, all of her) and you drag it up her folds, deliberately, painfully slow as you start to lick up that wet cunt. Her back arches; you can feel her struggling to keep a hold of your head; she throws her head back and lets out a gasp; her thighs clamp down a little harder around your head. The pleasure in her system builds up with the slow movement of your tongue, only rising and rising as you lick from the base of her slit to the mid section to the top. When the tip of your tongue flicks her clit, it's almost like an explosion, enough for her other hand to join its pair atop your head, enough to make her cry out in a perverse plea, “Daddy, please!”

(For the record: she’s wanted this from the moment you guys stepped into the shower. She’s willingly turned herself into some pliant little plaything, and she’s probably getting off so hard to it. Frankly, if she wanted to order you around, you’d be up to it, but this is what she prefers.)

And nothing else needs to be said really. You put your whole mouth on her—relishing the shiver that runs up from her thighs up to her body—and get right into making a wreck of her. You lick, you devour, you ravish her: working your mouth on her pussy, lapping up the juices that spill forth from flushed lips with broad, sharp strokes that make her body grow taut and her legs quiver. You tongue her clit, lick up sweet fluids, make her messy and needy and hot in all the right areas till she’s drilling her nails into the back of your scalp and pushing your face against her sweet slick. In half whispers, she tells you just how good you make her feel—oh Daddy I’m so fucking wet!—and you feel a dark part of yourself be fed by these lecherous words—Oh god oh fuck I’m gonna fucking cum if you keep… Fuck!—that leave her half-parted mouth and linger in the air, reminding you of just how wanton she is and how you’re the only person in the world she ever wants to fuck and be satisfied by. You’re hers; she’s yours—a relationship with Jang Wonyoung that any guy would kill for.

“Daddy—” she gaps, her voice a whole octave higher than it should be as her nails turn into claws at the back of your head. “Fuck I’m cumming. Daddy I’m cumming!”

The pulsing of her pusy against your tongue grows. You continue licking, lapping. One stroke, two strokes—three. She moans, blue screens. You hazard a look up.

Nothing else matters. Only: the sight of that back arching off the marble counter, her thighs around your head trembling and quaking as her hips roll and her mouth parts in a silent scream. You’re certain that there’s blood being drawn from the back of your head, but you're more certain that she’s got enough heat in her core to melt molten iron but a lack of breath that makes her gasp for air as you lick and lick and lick your way into her. You can feel her orgasm getting closer by the second, it’s in her breathing, and in the way her hips are practically thrusting her into your mouth.

And just like the bathrobe from earlier, she comes undone—falls apart and ceases to keep control of her body. She tenses, her thighs go rigid around your ears. Her breath is caught in her throat, her eyes are closed. You stop your work, admire the way she glows as her body twitches and her face twists. Pleasure rips its way through her muscles, her nerves—splits her very being in half as the orgasm rolls through her system. She’s beautiful, and she’s a messy work of art that you’ve created.

You rise to your feet as she winds down, and her hands leave your head to rest on the counter while her body struggles to process the aftermath of that orgasm. It’s not the first time she’s cum for the night, and it certainly won’t be the last. Her eyes open, and she instantly locs them on you as you brush back some of the hair that sticks to her sweat slicked face. You take her hand and give a gentle tug, and she slips off the counter obediently. You grip her jaw—tenderly but rough enough for her to like it—and tell her to turn around. Servile, she obeys, and in the reflection of the mirror, she watches as your hand snakes its way to her throat and grips it. You’re not squeezing, not yet.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy now,” you drawl, gripping your shaft in your hand and slapping it against her slit. The contact makes her shudder, but she remains silent as you place a kiss on her cheek. “Your face is gonna be so pretty when I choke you and fill you.”

“Yes Daddy.” Her reply is a whisper, a borderline drawl that’s airy and raunchy and makes your hairs stand on their ends. She’s looking at you through the mirror, plump lips slightly parted and eyes glassy. “Own me. I’m yours, forever.”

And you’re all too happy to hear that from her.

You slip into her, hilt yourself inside her in one swift motion.

(Tight. Hot. Wet. So tight.)

She lets out a sigh, low and sonorous, harmonising with your own groan as you press her against the edge of the counter and make the fingers around her throat squeeze. The sound that leaves her throat is the sound of her sigh being truncated, and it delights that dark part of you. Being inside Wonyoung was otherworldly, as it always was, but here, in the bathroom of her hotel, on the night where you’ve agreed to seal a deal with her, she felt downright heavenly. She squeezes her walls around you, her body thankful for the sensation of being filled by cock, if the intense tightness and slick wetness were any indication; she looks over her shoulder and bites her bottom lip. And when she has your gaze, she mouths something.

Fill me.

The silence is deafening, but it’s all you need to hear.

When you withdraw your glistening shaft for the first time you relish in the feel of her walls gripping you, not wanting to release you—but just as quickly they welcome you back inside as you penetrate her again. Soon you are pumping in and out of her at a slow, steady pace, her soft gasps turning quickly into long, drawn out moans as she is fucked against the marble. Her hands steady her body against the counter, her back arched in a way that lets you get a wonderful top-down view of her breasts as they roll together with her body. It’s a concerted effort, but she makes it seem effortless.

“Be honest.” With the hand around her throat, her voice sounds a little hoarse. It’s hot. “Do you think about this, Daddy? About fucking me like a good little slut?”

“Wonyoung,” you reply, speaking through your gritted teeth. “You have no,” and you punctuate the sentence there with a deeper thrust into her tight slick, a thrust strong enough for her to let out a strained gasp. “fucking idea…”

(In the mirror, you watch as she curls her lips into her mouth and tilts her head back into your shoulder, like she’s submitting her whole being to you and letting you take liberties with her body. You take the invitation, and your free hand finds itself on one of her soft mounds and gives it a squeeze—rough but tender enough to elicit a low moan from her throat that makes your hand around it vibrate pleasantly.

At the given moment, she’s doing all she can to make herself a pretty little fuckdoll for you, doing her best to encourage you to treat her rough, treat her like you own her. She wants nothing more but to feel the rockhard meat penetrating her tight little cunt stretch her out and fill her the way she wants, all while she’s begging and pleading obsequiously while being obsessed with your cock. It’s a lot to take in for her for sure, but she gets off on it, and you get off on it too—the fact that she’s being all needy and pleading just so she can implicitly tell you to fuck her till she’s raw and can’t fucking walk the next morning. The fact that she’s actually in control while being such a bottom. Bratty manipulation.)

“Then fuck me Daddy,” she tells you, almost pleading. “Use this pretty little pussy. I want it. I fucking need it.”

With her invitation to do more with her body, you’re more than ready to do what you’ve intended to do from the very start. You increase your tempo, and before long you are truly fucking her, drilling in and out of the tight hot warmth of her body with quick, deep strokes. With each stroke you don’t pull out more than halfway—you concentrate instead on pumping hard and fast, getting as deep as you could inside her given your standing position. She takes it well, like she was made for this. In her world, this was what fucking looked like, and it was the only definition that she was going to live with and she’d take it to the grave. She indulges in the roughness, the almost animal-like way your cock fills her again and again and again, all while she encourages you with cries and moans and sighs that are music to your ears.

And a notion hits you: she’s going to make you fuck her till she’s the only thing you can possibly think about. She’s going to draw out every single primal urge within you, make you want her like she’s some form of drug and you’re the abuser, and then she’s going to get exactly what she wants—your cum in her pussy. You can’t let her win like that, you can’t. You can tell that to yourself now, but you’re not sure if you can remember it later, not when she practically reeks of the strongest possible sillage of sex.

Her pussy throbs around you, pulse strong and just a beat behind your thrusts as you thrust yourself in and out of her slick walls, filling her up and drawing yourself out before filling her up yet again. Pure filth spills from her mouth, expletives, sordid sighs and cries and any sound or word that comes to mind. She's a quivering and squirming mess, and from the mirror you enjoy the way she’s almost writhing in against the counter. Ample breasts bounce with each thrust that shocks her body, and it’s almost hypnotic if it weren’t for the fact that that pretty face was stealing the show. The face that was marvelled, the face that was the source of jealousy, the face that was on the face of so many magazines and posters and adored by millions, if not billions—scrunched up, improper and so fucking lewd that it looked like it belonged in a porno instead of an idols face, and you take pleasure in the fact that your cock is ruining the face of a princess, turning her dissolute and so fucking needy that she was as good as a fan begging her for an autograph. This side of her was reserved for you, and only you—her duality is reserved for your eyes only.

Her body is slick with sweat, rubbing against your own sweaty torso while her body rolls together with your thrusts. “Fuck—” you’re saying, but it comes out as more of a growl than anything given how hard yur teeth are clenching. Your fingers squeeze tighter around her throat. The slightly reduced airflow at her throat causes her pussy to clench even tighter around you—and the added tightness brings succulent pleasure to your mind that makes you think you’re going insane. You probably are at this rate. “This pussy. It’s so fucking good baby.”

Her reply is a strained gasp, but you get the gist of what she wants to say. She wants, so badly, to tell you how good your cock is making her feel, how well it fucks her, how well it fills her and stretches her and how it’s her favourite thing in the whole world. The squelch of your cock filling her pussy is loud, but not loud enough to drown out the smacking of skin against skin as you press more of your weight against her, pushing her a little more into the corner of the counter and a little more over the line of pathetic. She moans in response to your actions, and it’s telling you: fuck. Harder. It’s better when it hurts.

And you can feel her juices leaking down the back of her thighs, wetting your crotch and making the smack of skin against skin louder than ever, almost as if it was an announcement: I’m being fucked like a good little slut and I love it. She doesn’t know what she’s doing to you,and for clarity, it’s something along the lines of turning you absolutely feral with her moans and the divine tightness of her pussy that makes you want to cum on the spot. Okay,maybe she is cognizant of how crazy she makes you when you fuck her, but you barely have the capacity to think, let alone rationalise wether thai girl in your arms that your chocking and fucking feel smug in knowing that she’s driving you insane.

Oh and she loves it when you play with her tits. The way you fondle them is almost aggressive. Scratch that—it’s really fucking aggressive. You’re slapping her tits, leaving red marks all over the milky white skin and pinching and twisting the stiff nubs atop her breasts, all while she mewls and cries out in that strained voice that makes you throb even harder inside of her wet walls and makes you grit your teeth like your a dog waiting to chew on a bone.

“D-Daddy,” she pushes out, past the fingers that close her airways and past her groans and moans and sighs. “Harder.” And your thrusts are starting to cut her off, but she has more to say. When it comes out, each word that she spits out is punctuated by a thrust of cock into her pussy, and it’s the hottest thing you’ll ever hear.

Fuck.

You thrust deep inside her.

Me.

Your cock drives itself deep into her, slicking itself with her juices.

Harder.

And if words could linger in the air, hers certainly would.

You fuck her hard, and fast, and deep—hammering her into the counter, nailing her defenseless pussy with a pace that you would have thought was rough and callous were it not for the fact you knew this was exactly how she wanted it. All she can do is hang on, grasp onto the counter with a knuckle-white grip with her hands as you take your liberties with her body, fucking her as hard as you can, as deeply as she can take it. The cups on the counter shake, the toothbrush inside one of them shaking under the force. It’s loud, but you hear none of it. You hear only the sharp sighs of pleasure that leave Wonyoung’s lips, and the wet slap slap slap of your crotch as it hammers her cunt again and again and again, your cock drilling her, pounding her, making her yours if you weren’t already doing that.

It takes a little long, but the haze of lust parts for a moment for you to realise that you're getting closer and closer to getting what she wants out of you. While the thought of burying yourself inside of that quivering, pulsing pussy to let it milk every last drop of cum from you is ever so enticing, that small part of you that wants to own her pushes you to fight against the urges. Not that there’s any harm in giving her what she wants, but it’s just that you don’t want to reward her bratty, manipulative tactics. She knew for a fact that she could tie you up and ride you over and over till you were dry—she’d done it before. But instead, she’s chosen to fulfil her needs in a less direct manner, maybe for fun or maybe just because she felt like it.

“Yes,” Wonyoung hisses, spit flying into the mirror and her palms slipping on the counter. “Just like this Daddy.” And she’s making sure to make eye contact with you through the mirror, letting her eyes do most of the talking. If anyone’s curious, the look she gives you is saying, I’m your good little slut. Fuck me. Use me. Fill me. Please, and it's nothing short of hot and tethering far over the line of lewd. At this point, neither of you are in a state where you're capable of coherent thought, nor are you capable of thinking about anything else except each other’s bodies and the wet, lewd squelching of cock filling Wonyoung’s pussy. It goes on and on and on, a cycle of your hips hammering the back of her legs and your cock spearing deep into her cunt. She takes it so well, drinking you in hungrily, coiling around your shaft like a snake as if it was begging for you to stay in her forever. The sight is enough to make your balls tingle and your toes curl, and your hand around Wonyoung's throat tightens to the point where the only thing that can leave her lips is a groan as her airflow is reduced.

She’s tighter, hotter, wetter. Her pussy fits you like a glove, moulding around your cock as it pumps in and out of her at a pace that you had no idea you were capable of. The hand around her neck is nothing but an outlet of pleasure for you, and she’s loving it. “Such a good girl,” you mutter, watching from the mirror as her mouth slacks and opens while she’s being pumped full of cock. “You were made to take Daddy’s cock, weren’t you?”

Her equivalent of a yes is a sharp, strained groan—an amalgamation of phonics and whatever sounds the lack of air flowing to her throat permits her to make. She’s so fucking messy down there, and your cock is sliding in and out of her with ease, aided by her slick juices that coat your shaft and let it disappear and reappear from between her legs with ease. The motion is almost graceful if it weren’t for the fact that it was a sordid one, and you take a moment to admire the way your shaft glistens in the light of the bathroom while you fuck her the way she wants it: rough, hard and tethering over the edge of callous. If it weren’t for the hand around her throat, she’d be making herself hoarse with all the moaning she’d be doing.

And the hand around her throat is bringing her so much pleasure, if the way her pussy squeezes around you when you choke her is any indication. She wasn’t lying when she said she liked being choked. While she didn’t like gagging on your cock, she sure as hell loved it when your fingers clasped around the muscles and made her gasp. She liked the sensation of being deprived of air, be it when she was riding or when she has her kness buried into her shoulders and was being fucked into the bed like a slut. You were always afraid of hurting her, but when she shots you that look, the one that says, come on, you can do better, you know that she’s getting exactly what she wants, just the way she likes it. It was just a matter of how hard you squeeze around her throat before she either cums or passes out, though the latter has rarely happened before the former.

“Daddy!” she chokes, and you know exactly what she’s about to say next. So you release her throat from her grasp, bunch a lock of her hair in your closed fist and you pull back. Her eyes squeeze themselves shut. Her back arches deliciously, her voice now free to finish shat she’s aching to announce. “I’m fucking…”

You never expect her to finish her sentence. Wonyoung’s eyes open, and a gasp leaves her open lips. Her walls, already vice-like, tighten so hard around you that you think you might come there and then. You feel how close she is.

“Fucking cum for me, Wonyoung. Cum around my cock like a good little slut.”

Wonyoung does as she is told—and the quivering, trembling orgasm she experiences is almost frightening in the way it overwhelms her body, turning her into a wet, hot mess. Her pussy tightens and pulsates, her fingers claw against the marble counter, and her entire lower body shakes violently, as though she had lost control of her nerves and muscles. For a few beautiful seconds she is utterly overwhelmed by the sensations, until finally she slumps forward in your grasp, breathing heavily.

It's good. It's so good, but it's not quite enough to get you to your finish. Not yet.

(And if anyone’s asking: it’s not that the sex isn’t good. It’s mind blowing, amazing, and whatever word that can be used to describe “fucking incredible”. She’s hot, so tight and fucking soaked down there. You’re horny, throbbing and on the verge of filling her full of your seed. But you’ve said it before and you’ll say it again—you’re not rewarding bratty manipulation. As tempting as it would have been to simply pound her from behind until you gave her needy pussy the load of semen she so desperately wanted, you knew that there was something even better that you could do.)

You pull out of Wonyoung, your shaft glistening under the hotel light. Her eyes are wide with shock as you withdraw yourself from her body, pulling her away from the counter—but only enough to have her lean back against you and not stand up completely. Her mouth opens to say something, but she's interrupted when you turn her face to you and kiss her. She moans into your mouth, and you swallow it, your tongue slipping into her mouth and massaging her own, lapping at the roof of her mouth as her tongue swirled around your own. You bite her lower lip, and it's not rough, but enough to get her attention. When her eyes flutter open, you whisper, "I'm not finished."

She nods, and you relish the disappointment in her eyes. You turn her around, push down gently on her shoulders. She goes with the motion, and you're not sure if you can ever get over the image of Wonyoung on her knees with her pretty little face staring at you with anticipation. You think about fucking her face, letting your cock thrust into the back of her throat over and over and over till you finally bury yourself inside and cum down her throat, but that would just be a repeat telecast of every other night with her. Spice things up; give her the liberty of creativity with your cock.

And of course, Wonyoung perfectly understands what has to be done. You step up to her. She parts her lips and takes your cock right into her mouth. Grasping the base of your cock and pumping it with one hand while she gently cups and squeezes your balls with the other, Wonyoung quickly launches into a hard and fast blowjob, taking the top half of your cock in and out of her wet mouth with a rapid pace while her fingers work your shaft in a corkscrew motion, just like she did in the shower. The suction of her mouth is almost lethal, and the audacity she has to look up at you while she takes your cock in and out of her mouth is so exhilarating that it makes you weak in the knees. Your hand finds a clump of her sweaty hair, and you close your fingers around it, holding them in your fist. No, you weren’t going to push her head down onto your cock; you had to give her the space to work on her craft.

And of course, she exceeds every expectation out there. Your eyes shut involuntarily, your brain unable to handle any sensations beyond the wet, hot cavern of Wonyoung’s mouth sealed tightly around your shaft with tight, soft lips. With the first entry into her mouth her wet tongue is pressed tightly against the underside of your shaft, lathering it with her spit. With each subsequent entry her tongue becomes more adventurous, beginning with quick swipes left and right on your shaft with each entry and ending each exit with a swirl of the tip around the head of your cock. While she tastes herself on your cock, letting her juices mix with saliva, her hands work in perfect concert with her mouth, one joining her lips at your shaft and pumping up and down, a twisting motion to her wrist while her free hand works gently with your dangling balls, fondling them with considerate fingers. She plays with them softly yet hastily, her fingertips working their magic between the sacs with expert attention.

You are content to stand there with your eyes shut, simply enjoying the feel of your cock pumping in and out of her mouth at a fervent pace, but a small part of you knew that you had to see it happening in order to truly believe it was all real—and so with a not insignificant amount of self-control, you force eyes open to watch the spectacle unfolding between your legs. Black locks bob up and down frantically above your cock, doe-like eyes glazed with pure lust staring right up at you as her cheeks hollow and her jaw unhinges even more to accommodate your length.

It all becomes too much, and it hits you all at once—having her pump your shaft in the shower, eating her out then fucking her—and you quickly find yourself nearing that inevitable peak.

“Fuck, Wony—” is all you manage to say before your orgasm overtakes your world.

Wonyoung releases your cock from her mouth a split second before you erupt, shooting long, thick strands of hot semen all over her pretty little face. Her face glazes over in pleasure and you are all too happy to watch as strand after strand of cum lands on her cheeks, her pretty little nose, and finally her open mouth and jaw. You watch, through half-lidded eyes drunk with pleasure, as the thick streams of cum flow down her face, dripping onto her upper chest and those perfect breasts of hers. Her face is flushed and her mouth open, as though she herself was on the verge of orgasm (she probably was, and she was going to make it your problem as soon as she got your cum off her face).

You want to remember the way she wipes your cum off her face with the back of her hand, how she licks it all up like a cat licking its own paw before moving to clean the stray strands of cum off the tip and sides of your cock. You want to remember how she rises so gracefully even though she was a sweaty mess, and how she gently takes your hand and guides you back into the shower for another clean up.

And back under warm water, you want to remember how she kisses you, and how she whispers, “next time, I want that big load in my pussy.”

“What?”

And it’s hard to meet Wonyoung’s eyes as you set down the papers from the doctor. You can feel her confusion, her frustration, her rage from across the dining table in your apartment. It isn’t pretty. Nothing about this situation is.

“It’s a neurological disease,” you tell her, all while you’re looking at the MRI that’s in the middle of the table. You’re really just regurgitating what the doctor told you—it’s the only thing you have the capacity to do right now. “They ran their tests. They told me what I suspected. I’m losing my ability to read and write, to understand language. In 2 years—give or take —I won’t be able to express my thoughts. I’ll be spouting gibberish. What people say, what I see — on pages, street signs, everywhere — they’ll all be unintelligible to me.” She’s silent, and it unnerves you in every way possible. You haven’t even gotten to the worst part of it all. “My mental competence will deteriorate. I’ll have to live off a tube cause I’ll forget how to eat and drink. Dementia will follow shortly.”

Now would be a great time for her to say something, anything to break this silence. But she is silent, unmoving and reticent in her seat from across you. You have no choice but to gulp and deliver, in your personal opinion, the worst part of it all, “By the time I forget how to breathe I… I would’ve lost all my memories by then.”

She chooses the moment after the last word leaves your mouth to pick up the MRI scan and look at it.

“So… Everything we’ve built up till now will just… Disappear?” she whispers. She sounds hurt, scared and everything in between. You bite your lower lip.

“Yes.” There’s no point sugarcoating it, it’s inevitable anyway. Face it now, sulk later… You think that’s the best way to deal with this piece of news. You hope that the matter-of-fact tone of voice that you’ve chosen doesn't betray how frightened you are by the prospect of losing everything you know. “We can’t stop it. It’s in my genes.”

She sets down the scan, and when you look up, you see the tears flowing down her cheeks and it makes you want to cry as well.

She stands up, shoulders her handbag and walks towards the front door.

“Where are you—” you begin. “I’m going somewhere else to think,” she interjects.

When she slams the door behind her, you feel like you’ve let her down in so many ways. There’s a burning in your chest that you can’t describe. The first hot tear rolls down your cheek, and you let the rest that well in your eyes flow down without resistance.

You don’t want to remember what it feels like to be helpless—the emptiness, the rage, the sadness, the confusion is all so overwhelming. But you figure that you’ll have to feel it again at some point down the road.

Might as well figure out how to cope with it now, when Wonyoung isn't there and you're all alone with your thoughts.

When you awaken later that night in your bed in the apartment, it takes you a few moments to determine whether the soft, slim body climbing atop you is real or part of some wonderful dream—but the familiar warmth of your girlfriend, and the soft, pleasant smell of her hair, convinces you that this was all real.

Wonyoung places soft kisses on your neck and jawline, before moving to your mouth and kissing your lips softly. You are still only half awake, but your senses and instincts take over, and you find your mouth welcoming her kiss and returning it with one of your own, your hands moving to either side of her hips and finding, to your surprise, that there was only bare skin there and no clothing.

“Wony…” you begin, as she deepens her kiss, her lips pressing more firmly against yours.

“Shhh,” she answers, “please. I need this. I need you, right now. Please.”

She’s suddenly reappeared after walking out on you, and you have yet to process the slew of emotions that have come your way. Part of you wants to stop her, to talk things out with her so that you could: a) figure out if she was still mad at you and; b) verify that she wasn’t drunk. But the part of you that formed the majority of your conscience knew that she needed comfort as much as you did, and that she needed something to assuage her and make her feel like everything would turn out alright. So you find yourself relaxing underneath her, letting her scent fill your nostrils as her tongue dances with yours.

She straddles you, and your hands begin to run up her naked body, up from her slim thighs to her chest where the ample mounds sat proudly, her nipples erect and stiff. She isn’t wearing any underwear, and your fingers brushing against the slick of her pussy is enough to verify that for you. She’s naked atop of you, kissing you like you just confessed your love to her or like you’re about to go on some mission and never return. It’s not lustful, but it’s full off passion and aims to soothe not stir.

She breaks the kiss. Her eyes flutter open. In the dark that is pierced by the street lights of the city, you want to remember the way her eyes glimmer and shimmer as she breathes heavily. There’s no alcohol on her breath, and from the way she’s cradling your face, you can infer that she’s not mad at you in the slightest.

“You okay?” she whispers, and her tone is soft and warm, like that time she spoke in the shower of her hotel about signing that contract with her company so that the two of you could officially start dating. It’s been some time after that, but you still hang on to the way her words made their way to your heart. “I didn’t mean to startle you if I did.”

You respond by nodding, and it’s enough to convey: I’m alright. You brush away the hair that falls in front of her eyes, and you really want to remember how silky smooth her hair feels in your hands.

“What are you doing?” you ask her, making sure to keep your tone as warm as her own. She blinks, goes silent for a moment, then answers, “I’m making amends.”

She holds your gaze, you hold hers. The staring contest ends when you gently pull her in for another kiss, and you want to remember how she softly moans into your mouth while her thumb, smooth and tender, caresses your cheek.

When the kiss breaks again, her hands snake their way down to your sweats. You assist her in removing your shorts—a very clumsy affair: tangled hands and arms and lots of chuckling. But your cock does finally spring out from your boxers, the ones that have been discarded in the corner of the bed, together with her clothes. When it’s all done, you have the pleasure of witnessing the sight of her slim frame straddling you once more, long legs surrounding you on either side of your thighs while she peppers kisses on your chest.

“I’m sorry I left you to deal with… Everything. Alone.” she begins, “I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that… I’m sorry. I hope you aren’t angry”

And from your lying position, you lift a hand to cup her cheek. “We can talk later.”

She gets the message, but bends down and kisses you nonetheless. You’d probably have trouble falling asleep later in the night, and she’d wake up and you’d have this same conversation again. You’d rather have it later than now, not when the wound is still fresh.

Wonyoung lets a soft smile play on her lips. You are slightly aware of her raising her hips, her right hand finding its way between your bodies to grasp your wet, erect shaft, and line it up with her entrance. She breaks the kiss for the third time that night, searches your eyes for approval to continue with this. Was it make up sex? You didn;t know if it was for sure, but it sure as hell felt like it. What you do no for certain is: you’d like to experience this now, and you want to etch this in your memory for as long as you can before it fades with the rest of your mind.

You give her the slightest of nods, and you feel the head of your cock press against her wet, tight opening. Slowly, carefully, Wonyoung lowers herself down onto your shaft, your cockhead parting her tight lips to impale her pussy. She gasps loudly as she impales herself fully, and she opens her eyes slightly to match your gaze. You brush stray locks of hair away to reveal her face fully, and you bring her mouth back to yours to kiss her deeply. As your tongues duel, she begins to raise her hips, drawing your shaft out of her body before lowering it once more, and soon she has found a soft, slow rhythm as she rides you, grinding her warm, tight body against yours.

She raises herself upright and lets her hands rest on top of your chest. You’d like to save that face she makes in a supercut of her other memorable faces: eyes closed, lips slightly parted and the wisp of a smile on her lips as she rocks her hips. From where you lie, you watch as Wonyoung takes you in and out of her body with soft grinding motions, riding you slowly, enjoying every entry and exit of your shaft as it fills her over and over in slow, tender strokes that make her shiver. You watch as your shaft appears for a split second or so before driving back into her, each disappearance accompanied by a soft spike of pleasure. As always, she’s letting moans and sighs and gasps tumble freely from half-parted lips as she takes you in and out of her slowly, rocking her hips with innate grace and elegance. All you do is let your hands rest on her thighs, moaning softly to encourage her as she rides you lovingly, tenderly, a far cry from what you’re used to when it comes down to sex with Jang Wonyoung.

Through the night, your cock glides in and out of that perfect pussy, elicits moans and gasp and sighs and cute little cusses when you hilt yourself deep inside of her and tug a little at her hair. Her hands were always active, sometimes caressing your chest, sometimes on your jaw, sometimes behind your head as she snaked an arm behind your head to keep you locked where you were just so she could sneak in a kiss. You came in her mouth, her ass, her pussy. She came on your fingers, your cock, your mouth. She cussed a lot, almost passed out once or twice. You cussed a lot two, and you caught her when she almost rolled off the bed (the two of you laughed for a minute about that situation before you ended up spooning on the floor, her leg in the air and your cock pumping in and out of her while she had your back to you and your face in her right hand).

Bottom line: it was wonderful, wonderful make up sex that ended with both of you sweaty and panting and wanting more from each other but you guys just don’t have that energy to keep going. It was a novelty for both of you, and you wanted to remember just how special she could make you feel, even in the impurest of acts.

The flash of the polaroid camera is almost blinding, but you power through and keep your eyes open. Like a child that’s seeing snow for the first time, Jang Wonyoung watches excitedly as the polaroid emerges from the slot in the camera, and she’s all too eager to grab it and lay it face down on the coffee table in your apartment.

“I thought you’re supposed to shake it?” you ask, watch as she fiddles with the camera for a little bit before she snaps a selfie with her newest purchase. She gives you a look that basically translates to, “uh, are you dumb?” and waits for the next polaroid to emerge from the slot before she launches into her lecture.

“Shaking the polaroid to make it develop faster is a myth,” the way she sounds so official and everything is so cute. You can’t help but smile a little as she sets the other polaroid down. “It shifts the pigments and blurs the photo, but an idiot like you would need a genius like me to tell that to you.”

The remark is clearly meant to be biting, but it’s nothing short of hilarious to you. “When did you become a camera nerd?”

“Ever since I got this,” she lifts the polaroid camera up and hits you with that you’re on camera smile. “Maybe I should do an ad for this brand. Increase their sales, you know?”

She leaves you to think on that and retrieves the first polaroid she took: a picture of you and her on the couch of your apartment. Not the grandest first photo, but hey, a memory is a memory, and you really are just focusing on cherishing those at the moment. As she leaves the couch to clip the polaroid onto the photo rack (a bunch of metal wires on a metal frame with wooden clips to hold photos) she just set up, you grab your journal next to you and flip it to the page you wrote on a few hours before. With your pen (that you now carry around just about everywhere with your journal), you scribble down a new part of today that you want to remember. It was her idea to journal down everything you wanted to remember.

The entry goes right under the one about Wonyoung’s new camera.

She looks so happy with that new camera. Bet she’s going to go back to the dorm and show it off to all of her members because she’s a fucking child. I hope that…

And you trail off in your writing, What you wanted to say was just on the tip of your tongue just a second ago. Why can’t you remember it? It was literally just in your head a minute ago…

No.

You shut the journal. It makes a soft yet substantial thud as the leather cover slaps against pages. You place your pen in your pocket, set the journal back down on the couch and stand up to walk towards your girlfriend, who is currently adjusting the angle that the wooden clip holds the polaroid at. She senses you walking up to her, steps aside and makes a space for you to watch her struggle. You would offer help, but you know that it removes half the fun for her when you do something for her.

She fiddles around a little more, makes a couple of grunting sounds under her breath, curses a little, and next thing you know, she exclaims, “tada!” while pointing at the first occupant of the photo rack. You roll your eyes, throw an arm over her shoulder and look at the slightly blurry photo within the white frame.

“With the camera,” she tells you, her tone soft and warm like… Like… Fuck. “I hope that we can help our memories live on. Sounds pretty deep huh?”

You can’t help but chuckle in agreement. You take a moment to stare at the two faces that occupy the space in the polaroid, and you hope to God that they will never, ever look foreign to you. It’s a futile prayer, you know, but a glass-half-full mentality is the best chance you have at not spiralling out of control.

Wonyoung lays her head on your shoulder, silent and all sentimental as she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. She lets out a shuddering sigh, and you know that she’s trying not to cry, cause in this situation she’s the one that will end up hurt at the end of it all. You’ll forget the pain of forgetting; she’ll remember the pain of being forgotten. It sucks, but it’s just the way it is. You hug her, hold her close and stroke her hair. You don’t want to forget what she means to you, what you mean to her.

How many more polaroids left till it all ceases to matter?

____________________

Hello! Hope you guys enjoyed this fic. I'm a bit rusty so this one might be a bit funny, but hopefully the style of storytelling I chose didn't fuck you up too bad. Non-linear storytelling will be the death of me. Also: I kinda didn't edit this one too much. My bad hehe.

This was really more of a PSA to cherish the ones you hold close to you, because you never know when they will just disappear. Love the people close to you, cherish them forever.

~Lots of love Nichuuu

#jang wonyoung #wonyoung smut #ive smut #ive wonyoung #kpop #fanfic #writing #smut #nichuuu #ansgt

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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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hoshigray · 10 months

Text

Been thinking about this scenario a lot, but ex-husband! Toji, where you two are pretty chill with each other, even after five years of divorce. But the feelings between you two start to parade back after all these years, and it all comes boiling over after spending one night together.

A/n: Been a while since I've done one of these scenario thingies, plus this idea has been rotting my mind for a long time, and I needed it to get out, lol. I pushed back my Gojo fic to tmrw or Thursday because my brain was not feeling like re-reading 3-4k words while running on one hour of sleep. So, instead, we're dropping this in its stead. Sorry about that, and hope you like this while I fix the fic up later today :) Any grammar/spelling errors on this will be dealt with tmrw.

Cw: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - implied that reader is entering their mid 30s - starts out cute the first half but smutty the next, so minors DNI - implied that Tsumiki and Megumi are around middle school age; 12 (T) and 11 (M) - pining; Toji is whipped for you, I fear - Daddy kink - prone bone position + mating press - pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie, mama, princess) - cervix fucking - praise - itty-bitty-tiny overstimulation - closure; happy ending (?).

Wc: 3.4k (wow, way longer than the last one, lol)

Ex-husband! Toji...

...who you've divorced after being together for four years. It was a marriage built on love, convenience, and heartache. There is no denying that Toji loved you very much; if anything, the man would set the world ablaze if anything were to happen to you. Especially when you were the sweetest thing that blessed his presence and his two children who were young at the time — Tsumiki and Megumi at age three. The fact that you loved him as much as he loved you is beyond doubt in Toji's mind. However, somewhere down the line, you felt a "shadow" that you could not surpass nor fill — the late wife of Toji.

You could tell that Toji still had a piece of him that just couldn't let the memory of his late wife go, and you understood that. Hence why you chose to leave him, which was glum for all parties, but Toji understood where you were coming from and signed the papers.

...who's still chill with you after the divorce. You two promised not to act like complete strangers, especially with Tsumiki and Megumi being close to you. Just because the ring isn't on your finger doesn't mean you must change completely. The two of you are comfortable enough to be in each other's company, taking turns watching over the kids and acting like you're still married by poking fun at one another like the good days.

"Hey, big guy," Toji turns to the kitchen hallway where you're looking at him, his usual black coffee in his mug still sheltered in your apartment cupboards. "You look like shit; too tired to go to the clubs to find some minx to wow you enough like you used to?"

He snickers at your brazenness. "Shut up, brat. I could ask the same fr' you. Got some good dick on the side to help that attitude of yours, baby?" After checking around to see if the kids are nearby, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles before sipping his coffee.

...whose kids adore and love you so much that they secretly try to have you and Toji in the same place, which the two of you are entirely aware of. Five years passed after your separation, though that doesn't hinder the children from wanting you back in their lives again. Because to them, you are always a Fushiguro, and the love for you will always be there. It's there when you go to Tsumiki's soccer games and drag your ex-husband to find a better seat on the bleachers to watch her play. It's there when Megumi tells his father he "accidentally" left his baseball bat at your place and "unfortunately" now has to spend the night there (and you always receive them). And it's there when you promise to come along on family trips, like going to the zoo and taking pictures by the Panda enclosure with his daughter or going to the aquarium and listening intently to his son explain all the different types of jellyfish.

Toji can't blame his own kin for being attached to you because you are still a mother in their eyes. And so to his.

...who has his wedding ring on his dog-tag necklace but always tucks it under his shirt whenever you're present. It gives him a peace of mind when it comes to you because if he can't be there for you 24/7, he knows you're under his protection whenever you need it. But the thought of you knowing he still wears it makes him anxious, worried that you'll take it the wrong way and request he never wears it again. So, for his sake, he keeps you blind to this secret. And he wonders if you ever wear yours...

...who welcomes you without hesitation when you have to spend the night at his place because he notices you're too exhausted to go home so late. The only problem is that there's no other room outside the kids and Toji's. And as much you protest, expressing your satisfaction with taking the couch, your ex-husband disagrees and will carry you to bed, sneering to himself as you try to wiggle out of his stronghold until he smacks the bedroom door closed with his leg.

"I told you I was fine sleeping on the couch, Toji." You complain to him, yet your back is pressed against his chest with his arm around your waist.

"And I told you not gonna happen, princess." his hold around you gets tighter, pulling you closer for him to rest his chin on your shoulder. "You'd probably fall off and smack that pretty face of y'rs on the floor."

"I would not—You know what," you stooped from saying anything further to the man grinning behind your ear. You shift a bit to make yourself comfortable. "Goodnight, Toji. And thank you."

It takes every fiber in his being to not kiss your cheek then and there. Exhaling softly through his nostrils as he lays his head back on the pillow. "No problem, sweetheart."

...who the last time he had someone after your separation was not feeling it at all. You even said he is free to do whatever he wants when moving on to the next minx that caught his attention. You two are adults and shouldn't feel entitled to putting each other on a leash. Despite that, he knew moving on from you wouldn't be easy — especially in the bedroom.

The women he's had after you can only be counted on one hand. No matter how good the fun was with the others, his mind would always crawl back to you. It didn't matter how different their hair was, what they dressed that night, or how fucking good the sex was; you would cloud his mind in some way. They weren't you. They weren't his sweet thing.

...who's extremely perplexed in a nightclub when he sees you. He didn't want to go in the first place until Satoru Gojo barged into his apartment, dragged him out in his best attire, and left Nanami (another victim of Gojo's foolishness) to babysit Megumi and Tsumiki. And it was bad enough that Gojo snaked away from Toji to the dance floor the second they got inside, the raven-haired man almost popping a vein in vexation.

So the older man resorts to just doing the usual gig: walking around before sitting at the bar to ask for a regular beer. He stays there for nearly half an hour, taking sips of his bottle while sweet-talking to the ladies that occasionally find him and give him his number. Things got really loud when the DJ at the discothèque played "Up!" by Lil Vada and DonnySolo, all the party people crowding the floor, bumping and grinding each other while singing the lyrics. It was at this point that Toji had enough of the massive headache growing in his head, so he was about to down his beer and leave the club; Gojo be damned because the fucker could find his own way home and then some.

But midway through putting the beer bottle on his scarred lips, something in Toji's peripheral captures his attention. And his jade eyes go wide at what he sees.

Down to the right side of the dance floor are booths catered to bigger parties, so it's obvious to notice when a single person sits alone on one of the round tables while everyone else is dancing their hearts out. That one person was you, observing the dance floor with your head on your hand resting on the table.

To say that Toji was flabbergasted by the image of you in a place like this after all these years was tough for him to comprehend. Yet what really had him in a chokehold was how stunning you were. From where he stood, he could tell that you dolled yourself quite a bit. Your hair was kept in a style that displayed your face wholly, and you were wearing a beautiful halter-neck dress with slits revealing your thighs deliciously.

He forgets how to breathe when your eyes drift in his direction and find him. You're just as surprised as he is for a short moment, but you offer him a familiar smile and beckon him to come to your side of the club. The older man wastes no time, paying the bartender and making his way through the crowd to your table. When he's close enough, he can tell that your dress is backless, exposing your smooth skin that calls for him to touch.

And when Toji notices the ring on your left hand — the old wedding ring he gifted you — the world around him comes to a complete standstill.

"Hey, big guy." He snaps back to look at your beautiful face, your smile still there to blind him, and the booth far from the dance floor and music so he can listen to your sweet voice. You move to the side to make room for him to sit. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

"Me neither." He admits to you as he takes a seat, his green orbs never leaving your figure. "What are you doin' here?"

"Some friends dragged me out here for one of their birthdays. I figured I'd be here for a few hours and loosen up a bit, you know? But I don't know, I guess I'm just so used to being at my place that I'm out of practice with clubs."

Toji nods at your answer. "Yeah, I was dragged here, too. I'm with—"

"Gojo? Yeah, I thought so. He's right there dancing with my friends." He pans around to the dance floor to see commotion at the center. The snow-haired man was dancing as a crowd formed around him, getting grinded on by a woman with a "happy birthday" headband.

Gojo notices the raven-headed man staring his way, pulls down his shades, and winks. That's when the reason why Toji was brought here in the first place hits him. Gojo knew you would be here tonight because of your friend's birthday. And now that you two are sitting alone, the wink signaled Toji to make his move.

"....Wanna get the hell outta here?"

You giggle at his suggestion. "Yeah, I don't feel like watching my friends get pregnant on the dance floor."

Toji snickers and grabs your hand to lead you out of the booth. He then drapes his denim jacket over your shoulders to cover your exposed shoulders and back, and the two of you leave the club without anyone noticing a thing.

...who spends the rest of the night with you as if you two are on a date again. It's late, so many shops around the area are closed already, but that doesn't stop the two of you from having fun. From sharing a meal at a nearby diner, walking around a shopping plaza admiring the silent ambiance, and listening to old tunes in his car as you two share stuff about your day while holding hands. And the change of mood completely baffles Toji. Nevertheless, when he sees the smile on your face and hears the sweet tune of your laughter, the grasp on your hand gets tighter with every minute. All his intentions go into enjoying having you with him like this again.

...who stays by your side until he has to drop you off at your place, parked his car to walk you to your apartment door. It's 1 o'clock in the morning, way later than Toji ever intended to stay out. Not that it matters now, because it's all worth it being able to walk with you. He doesn't let go of your hand even when his heart dies a little when you two arrive at your door.

"Had a good time?" You ask while unlocking the door; your eyes showcase subtle exhaustion but are overshadowed by your smile.

"Sure as hell did since I saw you at the club." He confesses, your chuckles casting a spell on him.

"Hmm, I'm glad you were there too, Toji." You meant those words, your eyes gazing into his, and the man's plunged deep into your gorgeous orbs. A feeling that he now realizes he wants to be the only one experiencing with you.

An awkward silence for a few seconds prompts you to snatch your hand away from his, causing his stomach to drop. "Sorry, your jacket" is what you use to excuse yourself, moving to take off the denim jacket. But Toji stops you, his hands stationed on your shoulders to keep you still.

"No, it's cold, sweetie." His voice is hushed, only for you to hear. "You can give it back next time."

Silence comes back again, but the air is heavier this time. The awkwardness is replaced with something more solicitous, more affectionate. You notice it when Toji has yet removed his hands from your shoulders, his large palms warming you up to the touch.

"Toji—"

"It's alright, baby." His gruff tone is still a whisper, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. "I won't do anythin'."

"No, no," you don't know what came over you, but you place your hands on his chest. Then your finger touches something from underneath his turtleneck, having you pull his collar down to pull out the dog-tag necklace that still harbors his old wedding ring. Toji's blood shifts to ice cold when you see the accessory — his anxiousness spikes up to an all-time high, only mere seconds from combusting based on whatever your response will be. And it comes.

"I...I want you to do something, Toji." It felt strange saying those words with your shaky confidence, though it's what you wished to express. "I want you..."

And just like that, whatever restraint that the older man had for you was butchered away. Emerald eyes take in every feature of your anticipating expression, and his lips come crashing down on yours.

...who couldn't care less how late it is right now because he finally has you where he wants you after all these years. It's 2:30 in the morning, way too late for loud noises as they'll disrupt the neighbors next door. But, again, Toji doesn't care about that. When he finally has you lying under him on your stomach, screaming out his name while he drives his cock deep inside you, what is there to care about?

The two of you are in the prone bone position, where you lie flat on your belly on the cream-white satin sheets of your bed, your legs in between Toji's and bare ass out for him to have easy access to your creamy cunt that hugs onto him all so well.

Tears paint your wet and sweaty face, drool escapes from the corner of your mouth and meets the sheets beneath you. The harsh thrusts of Toji's pelvis hitting your ass with such precision have you see stars, and his big hands keep your arms still. All you can hear are the ecstatic cries of your voice and the noises of skin smacking together.

"Nnmph!! Haaaah!! Ahhhh, yesssss, Daddy, just like that," your voice feels strained from all the screaming you've been doing for the past hour. Lips are swollen from the constant biting, your butt stinging from the intense contact with your ex-husband's pelvis. It's hard to think of anything but the man above you and his dick rearranging your slit like his personal toy. You never thought you'd experience this exhilarating and rewarding sensation again. And now that you do, it's all you want to indulge in. "H-Harder, pleaseeee, I want mo—Ahhhnnn!"

Toji grinds his hips down to your ass, churning your insides and grazing your cervix to the point of incoherent babbles. "Mmmm, oooh, shit, fuckin' shit. You're too tight on me, mama." He gives you a sharp thrust when you least expect it, and the walls of your chasm clamping down on his length has him hiss. It's hard to believe you're permitting him to have you like this. It's been five years. Five years of respectful boundaries and keeping a platonic relationship. Five years of denying feelings of want and desire. All those years of heavy guilt suddenly lifted from his shoulders just for him to have you under his bow again, your body quivering and voice shaky because of his touch.

It feels so surreal...But, God, Toji missed this so goddamn much. Missing your eyes, your smile, your touch, your body. Just you. Only you. "Hnnngh!! Damn, you feel so fuckin' good, baby. Can never have enough..."

"Mnnaaaah! Daddy, I'm gonna cummm, I'm gonna—Oooohh!!" The tip of his shaft scrapes the upper walls of your vagina, your brain pounding so hard to the point it hurts. "Pleaseee, let me cum, Daddyyy..."

He can tell you're close and senses your orgasm climbing up with his. That's when the pace of his hips goes erratically fast, jabbing your sweet spots and tender cervix, causing more tears to come down and your peak to finally release for the third time that night. As you cream on his cock, Toji's not too far from his own crescendo. Your velvety walls contract around his member divinely, and the older man spills his load into your quivering figure.

You're allowed to experience the aftershocks of your orgasm as you two let your bodies calm down, Toji laying his chest on your sweaty, heaving back. He then slowly removes his dick from your chasm, and the essence of your unioned sex feels cold while sliding down your inner thighs.

"Haaaaah...Mmmm, thank you, Toji." You whimper out as he lays kisses down your neck and shoulders. "Thank you..."

But little did you know that it wasn't the last of it. Before you could apprehend what was going on, Toji already had you flipped over to your back, stationing your legs on his shoulders to a mating press. And you see that his cock is not limp yet...

W-Wait a damn second—

"T-Toji, wait, hold on!" You try to rationalize with the man who aligns his shaft to your gushing vulva, and your sweat runs cold. "It's getting late. I just came three times already! We should—Nmmmph!!"

The head of his cock slides right in thanks to the slick and come lubricating your opening. Adding his weight onto you as he pushes his length deep into your chasm again, you cry choked sobs when he meets your cervix again, and his pelvis rubs against your clitoris. "Sorry, mama. Just lemme finish here, 'kay? Daddy missed havin' you like this, so I wanna give you all of me while I still can."

...who has your fatigued self lying on his chest, rubbing circles on your back and placing soft kisses on your forehead as you feel the effects of sleep slowly creep up on you. The lights are now off, the moonlight bargaining from the curtains being the only light source as you two are ready to gather whatever amount of sleep you can get.

"Hey, baby." But before that, Toji wants your attention for the last time before you sleep.

"Mhmm?" Your eyes are closed, but your ears are still open to listen.

His eyes drift down to the left hand that lays motionless on his chest. The gem on the ring flashes softly for it to be distinguishable. "How come you were wearin' your ring at the club?"

A few seconds go by before you give him the honest truth. "Same reason you wear yours. I always wear it when going out somewhere or alone someplace. Gives people the idea that I'm not ready for anyone else."

"Then why not wear it when I'm around?"

You giggle breathlessly. "Same reason why you don't let me see yours. I don't need a ring when I have you with me. A ring doesn't compare to my big man who will love and protect me wherever we go."

And Toji doesn't ask anything else after that. He lets you fall asleep in his arms and listens to your breathing follow a melodic rhythm. Your words stick with him even when his eyes close, and he soon falls into a deep sleep.

It's far-fetched to think that you two will be married again. Maybe it's possible in his dreams, but not in the real world. Regardless, Toji knows he will always stand beside you and be there for you. With or without a ring that's merely evidence of your love to outsiders. He knows you love him, and that's all he needs to keep moving. And if he could have you as his wife again, he'd sweep you off your feet in a heartbeat.

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ioniiaa · 3 months

Text

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 6)

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 6:

When you arrived at the bar alone, Mimzy asked you where Alastor was, with a look of fake shock on her face which made you squint and scrutinize her lousy attempt at lying. Ironically, Mimzy was always a bad liar despite being the owner of a bar/speakeasy, but you wouldn't ask any questions, if it was a surprise then you'd rather not have anything spoiled for you.

Since Alastor wasn't there with you, you take the opportunity to chat and catch up more with Mimzy and some of the other patrons that you hadn't seen swing by in a while.

Unfortunately, a couple of the patrons in attendance tonight were ones you weren't fond of. Two guys that you could tell always eyed you up whenever they had the chance, there was a reason Alastor was usually so insistent on keeping you right by his side at all times whenever he could- except for tonight.

These two guys were the type that would likely try to follow you home or spike your drink if they didn't know that you were in a relationship with Alastor, who wasn't afraid to pull up his sleeves and get his hands dirty if anyone dared threaten your peace and happiness.

For most of the night, Mimzy was able to keep those two in line. So luckily there were no major incidents and Alastor wouldn't have to worry.

Then it was time to leave.

Unbeknownst to you, the two men followed you out of the bar when you decided to head home for the night.

You had a strange feeling as you walked down the dimly lit streets, heading towards your home with Alastor on the outskirts of town. You even checked your surroundings, to hopefully satisfy your paranoia, but saw no one.

Approaching your home, you start to feel a sense of relief when the forest you've come to know as home comes into view.

However, before you could make it to the path that winded through the forest and led to your house, you felt hands grab you from behind.

You try to call out for Alastor but before you can let even a sound escape, another pair of hands cover your mouth with a rag, and then you fall limp into the men's arms.

When your eyes open, you feel so groggy and dizzy. You lazily and slowly swing your head around to assess your surroundings to the best of your abilities.

You're still in the forest near your home, but you're tied to a tree and there's some cloth tied around your mouth to keep you quiet.

But what you notice next is that your clothes are in complete disarray. Some parts are torn, crumpled, and dirtied, and some articles are completely removed from your body.

It was at this time that your entire body started to ache from god knows what they did to you. Tears start to well up in your eyes when suddenly you feel the cold metal of a pistol barrel pushed up against the center of your forehead, making you gasp.

The owner of the pistol was none other than one of the creepy guys from the bar, "Oh the little bitch is awake now huh? Darn, guess our fun time is over!" The other one chimed in, "Didn't have your little bodyguard to protect you this time, princess. You done fucked up, girlie."

"We know what you did and who you are, don't think you can ever escape your past. Little miss widow."

Tears start cascading down your face as the sobs rack your body and you try to shake your head.

The pistol only presses harder in the center of your forehead, the sinister man's facial expressions warping even further, "Oh yeah, cry all you want. But it'll get you nowhere. The only place you're going? Is hell."

Those were the last words you heard before a gunshot rang in the air, and then everything went black instantly.

You died right then and there.

But this isn't the end of your story.

-> Part 7

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #fanfic #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #radio demon #alastor radio demon #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #x y/n #x reader #x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin #alastor

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dawn-moths · 9 months

Text

Turquoise & Temptations

Neuvillette x Female Reader

word count: 2600+

(Being the girl of Fontaine’s Chief Justice has its ups and downs, but one thing is for certain— the time you two spend together in Neuvillette’s office at the end of a long workday, whether he’s filing some last minute paperwork or simply taking a moment of peace and quiet before heading home, always has the opportunity to get interesting…)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, semi-public sex (you’re in his office but the door’s not locked), size difference, daddy kink, mention of punishment with no actual punishment, reader is called “sweetheart, princess, good girl, baby”, minimal prep, some aftercare.

*ao3 mirror*

***

You shifted your position sitting in Neuvillette’s lap, straddling him with the skirts of your dress bunched up and your lace-clad core pressed against where his own growing arousal had begun to jut from his pants, trying to be sly in grinding your needy sex harder down against him, as if he’d even have a chance to miss it.

You’ve been like this for a while now— cradled against his chest and nearly dozing off while he finishes up some last minute paperwork at his desk, lashes fluttering with oncoming sleep, lips slightly parted as your breathing began to grow slow and shallow— but it was technically his fault for getting you so worked up in the first place.

He’d started it, after all, causing you to jolt back to consciousness when you felt his cock twitch in his trousers as your weight had settled overtop his lap with just enough pressure to stir something a little less professional in him.

He clicks his tongue at you, but it’s not with annoyance. It’s with that condescending adoration that tends to weave through his tone whenever you get impatient, unable to let him finish his work before distracting him with your body and the fantasy of all the ways he wants to have you.

Because, while he may have been guilty of starting things, you were far more guilty of instigating, hiking your dress up higher to allow you more room to spread your thighs wider over his own, rocking forward and arching your back a bit until you found just the right place to satisfy your own needs.

At least, they’d be satisfied for a little while. You both knew before long you’d grow needy and demand more for him, tearing the Chief Justice from his more official duties and encouraging him to engage in some more personal affairs.

“Daddy’s almost done, sweetheart,” he cooed, one hand wielding a shiny gold fountain pen and scribbling off his tight-scrawled, looping signature on the dotted line while the other rested on the small of your back, keeping you in place, as if you had any intention of trying to leave. “Just be patient for a little while longer and then I’ll—”

His promise was cut off by a strangled whine caught in his throat, not missing the devious way your gloss-shined lips were curving into a defiant little smirk. His stunning gunmetal gaze leveled on you, his next signature left abandoned halfway through on the parchment as he held your stare, testing you now, daring you to keep going before he gave you permission.

If you did, he might just have to punish you, bend you over his desk and fuck you fast and hard till there were tears in those pretty little doe-eyes of yours, forcing you to keep quiet with a big, leather gloved hand clasped over your open mouth, biting back his own moans the best he could until he felt like you’d learned your lesson.

You seemed to foresee this possibility, so you kept still, your throat bobbing with a hard, anticipatory swallow, your pussy throbbing at the thought of it, and waiting for Neuvillette to resume his writing. He cleared his throat and concluded his signature, dotting the i and crossing the double t’s a little more aggressively than he had previously, the quick tap and scritch of the pen’s sharp nib marking the page in ebony ink making you flinch a tiny bit.

You thought he was finally finished when he gathered up the thick stack of papers in both hands and shuffled them on the surface of the marble desk, smoothing them all in perfect order before tying them with a piece of cobalt twine and sealing the documents with a wax stamp of shimmering silver, ready to be picked up and sent off to wherever it was the court transcripts went once he was done with them, but then he seemed to begin with a whole new stack, this one even taller and wordier than the last, so you couldn’t help but huff out a breath of blatant indignance.

Neuvillette hummed out a low, lilting chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours as you pressed yourself closer to him, tugging at the lapels of his coat and whimpering in protest. “Don’t worry, princess…” he assured you. “I’m just getting things in order for tomorrow.”

“And how long will that take…?” you muttered under your breath, thinking you might act out and risk the consequences depending on his answer.

But then you felt both of his gloved hands on you, long fingers flexing where they held your hips, sending a momentary confusion through you when he seemed to be pulling you down harder against him rather than shifting you away for your backtalk.

“Tell you what,” he began, his voice, normally so authoritative and commanding in the courtroom, turned honey-sweet and soothing when it came to you, even when you were insisting on being a little bit of a needy brat. “You let me get ahead of tomorrow’s work—” He held up a finger to signal silence as your mouth fell open in premature protest. “You let me get ahead of tomorrow’s work,” he repeated, pausing for a second and raising his eyebrows slightly, challenging you to try and interrupt again, “and I’ll let you have your way until I’m done.”

You cocked your head at him, eyes narrowed and mouth twitching into a crooked frown of pondering, wondering if this was some kind of test or not. Then it was his turn to catch you off guard, rocking his hips up into yours and causing you to emit a stuttering gasp as you felt just how hard his length had become, your eyes fluttering and beginning to roll from the sudden jolt of pleasure, your body surging with the need for more, more more, sheer, unadulterated want racing through your blood like sparks of white-hot electricity.

“Go on…” he smugly directed you, his eyes flicking from your face down to where your two bodies sought each other out and back again. Then, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear, his lips barely brushing the shell of it and causing a gentle shudder to skitter up your spine, he teasingly murmured, “Just be sure not to make too much noise. I’m pretty sure I left the door unlocked and, well…”

And, well, if anyone heard your high-pitched moans muffled from the other side of the double doors, they might creep up closer to investigate, maybe even dare to enter after giving the customary knock of courtesy and find you in a state you’d be mortified for anyone besides Neuvillette to see you in.

“I’ll be quiet,” you muttered back, unable to hide the excitement that was flooding your chest more and more by the second, your eager little fingers fumbling with his belt buckle, the gentle clink of the silver against your freshly manicured nails— this week a shade of pale turquoise— echoing quietly throughout the spacious office room until finally you were able to tug the leather strap free so it could dangle from the sides of the loops in his pristinely pressed trousers.

Pristine, of course, except for the damp spot left on his crotch, both of your intermingled arousal staining through to ruin his expensive work attire.

That was alright with Neuvillette though. Whether it was his clothes or your own that got ruined during these acts, he could always just buy more. To him, a constantly updated wardrobe was a small price to pay for how good it felt when he was inside you, suddenly wishing he’d decided to leave early that day so you two could finish this in your shared master bedroom of his estate, no need to keep quiet in the slightest as he forced melodic mewls and euphoric moans from your pretty little mouth, drinking them in, drowning in them, completely addicted.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised you, pressing a chaste, tender peck to your temple before continuing on with his work.

Once you’d pulled his cock free of its constraints, Neuvillette had to remind himself to keep his own sounds of pleasure quiet as well, gulping down the groan he already felt rising in his chest as you ran your soft little hands up and down the length of him, appearing entranced as you admired the blushing pink tip, pearly pre-cum already drooling out onto your palms, every vein and ridge of his velvety member practically committed to your memory, and making your dripping little hole flutter in anticipation.

Neuvillette gripped the gold fountain pen in his hand a little tighter, his stomach muscles flinching as you guided his cock between your soaked folds, the lace of your drenched panties giving just enough friction to make him crazy, melting his sharp mind into something dull and hazy with the slow dripping pleasure, his breath beginning to come out in short, panting huffs rather than the sure, steady, and stoic way he usually carried himself.

“God—” he exhaled, strangled and struggling to keep his composure. You grinded yourself down harder against him, your own angelic sighs of satisfaction fanning over the bit of exposed skin on his neck and making his cock pulse in your grip. Then he couldn’t take it anymore, reaching down to hook his thumbs into the thin, delicate waistband of your lace panties and tearing them off with one harsh, hungry tug.

And he always said you were the one who was too impatient.

“I can’t focus with you around,” he was practically growling, stealing his cock away from your clumsy little hands and guiding it by the base until he felt the tip catch on your tight little hole, tugging another sharp gasp from your throat, using the other hand to nudge you forward to sink further down onto his cock.

You bit your tongue as you felt a moan clawing its way up your chest, knowing he’d been serious when he’d told you to keep quiet— for both his sake and yours— but you couldn’t hold it in. Burying your face in his shoulder, you cried out as he forced himself the rest of the way in with one quick, stinging thrust, splitting you in two and causing fat, sparkling tears to well in your blurring vision from the sudden, burning stretch of him nestled so deep inside of you.

You felt his body relax a fraction then, shedding some of that animalistic desire and allowing him to return to the safety of the sweet, soft-spoken Daddy that you knew him to be, running a hand up and down you back in slow, soothing motions as he muttered out little apologies like, “Sorry for being so rough with you, sweetheart,” and “Daddy just couldn’t take it anymore. But don’t worry. I’m going to make it all up to you now,” until you raised your head from its hiding place in his shoulder and let him pepper loving little kisses to your neck, his mouth trailing down to the plush, flushed flesh of your exposed cleavage and sucking a little there, giving you some time to adjust to the feeling of being so painfully full of him.

“Please…” you exhaled, voice cracked and broken with another whine of pleasure as the aching in your core twisted even tighter, a cord about to snap. “Please, Daddy… I need you. Please…”

And Neuvillette didn’t wait a second longer to start rolling his hips up into you again, slow and steady at first, tugging one of his gloves free with his teeth and tossing it to land on his desk so he could feel every part of you, running the rough pad of his thumb over your pulsing, swollen clit and clenching his jaw as he winced, feeling your insides squeeze around him in that painfully sweet way you both loved so much.

“That’s it…” he encouraged, rocking up into you a little harder then as the pressure of his circles increased, knowing neither of you had much longer to go now, his voice laced with something raspy and borderline feral. “Good girl… Just like that— Archons, baby—”

You were biting the fabric of Neuvillette’s coat between your teeth, doing your best to ride him in tandem with his skillful ministrations until you were seizing up and coming undone for the first time that evening, your legs trembling and your muscles constricted as more of your glistening slick dripped down in thick, dewy strands to stain the inside of your thighs and his trousers, his cock pulsing where it was still buried deep inside your tender cunt.

He was filling you to the brim mere seconds later, the familiar flood of his viscous, sticky warmth filling your tummy and soothing you from the inside out. As you slumped in his arms, Neuvillette held you close, running the fingers of his untarnished, gloved hand through your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, tracing little patterns into the soft skin between your shoulder blades where there was a diamond cutout in your dress’s back as he helped you through the comedown.

Once he’d gone completely soft inside of you, he placed both hands under your thighs and carefully lifted you from his lap and onto the top of his desk, pushing the papers that still littered it to the far end before instructing you to lay back so he could clean you up. At least, to the best of his ability given all he really had on hand at the moment was a handkerchief.

You flinched as the cool marble of the desktop met the backs of your bare arms, exhaling a shuddering breath through your nose as the cold air of the room kissed your exposed, soaked pussy, sending yet another chill through you.

“I know, baby…” Neuvillette cooed, giving the crisp, satiny handkerchief in his hand a quick whip so it could unfurl, starting his tender, meticulous work in caring for his favorite girl after she was so spent. “I’ll draw you a nice, warm bath once we get home, so just bare it a little longer, alright?”

As he wiped as much slick from between your legs as he could, attempting to attend to himself afterward but giving up halfway, just thankful the length of his coat would cover any lingering evidence, you felt like you could drift off to sleep again, eyelids growing heavy as the surface of the desk gradually warmed beneath you from your radiating body heat.

But you couldn’t sleep here. Not now. Because not five seconds after Neuvillette had helped you off the desk and back on your own two wobbly, tired legs, straightening out your skirts and smoothing down the front of his closed coat, there was the tell-tale knocking of one of the courthouse’s interns at the office door.

You gave your Daddy a look of concern and alarm, unsure of how much evidence of what you two had done was left in the open, but Neuvillete just flashed you a cocky grin and called out for them to enter, quietly telling you to take a seat in the big, plush armchair behind his desk as he grabbed up the papers and hurried to meet the intern halfway to hand them off, engaging in a short, pleasant conversation before sending them on their way and hopefully none the wiser.

“Alright, princess,” he beckoned you, reapproaching to offer you a hand as you stood from the chair. “Let’s go home.”

Just before allowing you to lock your arm with his like you usually did, Neuvillette knelt down and picked up a piece of shredded, icy blue lace fabric— the remnants of one of your favorite pair of panties, destroyed with his impatiently eager hands— and shoved it into his pocket.

He’d owe you new ones, plus interest, for having torn them up without any warning, but you didn’t necessarily mind.

You just hoped the next time you two did something like this in his office during work hours, he remembered to lock the door.

***

(Anyone else also sort of obsessing over some of the new Fontaine guys, or just me lol

I definitely see myself writing more for Neuvillette in the future, especially as we learn more about him.

Anyway, like always, thank you so much for reading. Have a wonderful day! <3)

#neuvillette #neuvillette genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact fanfics #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette smut #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction

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gr1mstar · 2 months

Note

I'm a huge Dark romance book girlie

So can you write LDS boys finding out what she was reading like they had no idea reader has a fascination with dark romance books with psychotic ml or villains

I'M BETTER `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

note. i'm also a huge fan of darl romance books so i had fun writing this. thank you for your request love. also, i'm sorry for the wait, i hope you like it.

contains. love and deepspace boys x reader, fluff, sfw.

ZAYNE

you both had this hobby of reading, so it wasn't strange when zayne found you on the sofa in the living room of your apartment, reading a new book.

the only difference between you was that zayne read books related to medicine and history, while you liked to read romance books. zayne knew that you weren't into history or medicine, so he didn't bother to explain in detail what he read, but he was more satisfied listening to you complain that the two protagonists are stupid that they don't see that they love each other others.

at least zayne liked listening to your stories until they disappeared. suddenly, you started not telling him anything.

so curiously, when you put the book down to go drink a glass of water from the kitchen, he took the book you were reading at the moment, wanting to see what makes you stop sharing the plot of the story.

after some time, making your way back to the living room and seeing zayne with the book in his hand, his face red and a shocked expression on his face, you started to laugh subtly.

"what is it? what's with that expression?"

speechless, zayne puts the book down, moving closer to you.

"to understand that this is how you want me to be too?" he said, placing his hands on either side of your waist.

"what?"

"to talk to you like this… to tie you to the bed with something and make you stop walking the next day? to be crazy about you? what do you say?"

XAVIER

seeing you blushing in front of the book you were reading, xavier couldn't help but ask you what you were reading.

"ah, just a romance book." was your answer, returning to reading, the blush on your cheeks not disappearing.

not satisfied with the answer, xavier sighs and sits back with his head in your lap. thinking that he had nothing to lose, in a second the book you were reading now was in xavier's hands, his eyes on the lines you had just read.

"what is this?" he asked, flipping through a few pages and then looking at the cover. a smile appeared on his face. "do you like this stuff?" he continued, handing you the book back.

you didn't answer now the blush in your cheeks being much more obvious than before, your gaze moving down, avoiding his.

"i understand that you like antagonists more than heroes, right? someone obsessed with you?" xavier said, approaching you with big steps, now being a few millimeters away from you. bending down, his face was directly in front of yours, and with the help of a hand he forced you to look at him, grabbing your chin and turning your head.

"you're lucky, princess. i can be mean sometimes, but you have to take responsibility for it."

RAFAYEL

rafayel never understood what you like so much about books. it is a fictional story, with a fictional person. why waste your time reading about them when you have him, alive and very sexy, in front of you.

this, out of curiosity, he tried to read one day, when he had no painting to complete.

getting into bed, with a cup of coffee 'for energy', he started reading the last book you recommended, not expecting what would happen next.

the hours passed quickly, and in the middle of the book Rafayel lay down, looking at the time in wonder. the whole day had passed, and all he had done was read.

"i lived to see this too." he heard, immediately seeing that it was you at the door. "are you reading?" you asked, laying down on the bed next to him.

"let's say. i was curious why you like it so much." Rafael answered, leaving the book on the bedside table and taking you in his arms.

"and did you like it?"

he didn't say anything, taking his face into the crack between your shoulder and neck, inhaling the aroma of your body. he didn't want to admit that he liked the book, being too ashamed to tell you that now he understood why you liked it.

"so you like it." you said, laughing lightly.

"no. I'm better."

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jazjelspen · 2 months

Text

scarlet and silver lining (part 1)

(alastor w/ daughter reader)

(fem reader/notproofread!/apologies for anything ooc qwq/apologies for the pacing as well!!!! It’s 1AM LMAO—)

[chapter 1]

Sure, you didn’t actually want to redeem yourself.

Personally, you knew you were in the right place and were meant to be in this spot in the afterlife. You weren’t bloodthirsty and power hungry like the rest of the monsters down here but your sins were from your reckless decisions and you knew you couldn’t take it back.

So in turn, you didn’t truly trust the princess’s claims and theories.

But here you were, in her hotel through her doorstep. Dragging you along by your wrist being gentle but also filled with such excitement that she might’ve tugged a bit too hard for your preference.

As she led you to introduce yourself to the other residents and staff, you couldn’t help but wonder why exactly you let yourself get into this predicament.

Then again, you didn’t really have a choice.

_______________________________

Your hands stopped from fixing your hair, you had been stunned from preparing yourself for the next twenty minutes you’d be on air. Your face contorting while your eyes stared dead at your reflection at the mirror decorated with bright little light bulbs all around it’s frame as they shined their lights on you. Your hands shaking slightly and barley starting to sweat.

Why exactly were you shocked? Your boss.

“See here ____, what I need you to do is to simply get in through inside the princess’s little hotel and spy for me for a few weeks here and there! Document everything for me, whichever way you can. “

Vox, your boss, was ordering you on a new mission for you to do. He wouldn’t have you do these kinds of things regularly unless he needed some kind of spy or a pretty face for a segment of his show to get more ratings or as a distraction of sorts. Although lately he’s been sounding more aggravated, annoyed—dying to get what he wants. He was facing the set his crew were preparing as they fixed a few lights, checked if the cameras were functioning, etc.

It was good that he was facing that way and you the other, for if he saw your look of shock and slight fear spreading across your face like a disease he would probably question you like some kind of unruly detective for it.

But why wouldn’t you react this way? After all, he was asking you to spy and be around your father. The man you were ashamed of being connected to. He didn’t know this— he didn’t have to know this. For you knew Vox would simply use and wear you out as a pawn, overwork you, maybe torture you and hurt you to get specific answers.

He wasn’t afraid of doing anything to get what he wants anyway.

“Tape recorder, journal, write it on some fucking menstrual pad I don’t fucking care. I simply need to know what that fucker is thinking of doing next with Lucifer’s daughter now on his fucking shoulder.”

He snapped, static overtaking his voice at the end of his sentences. Clearly absolutely finished with this entire situation especially since for all you knew the last time someone tried to sneak in for him they were caught in the matter of a day, and if you didn’t have a direct connection to Vox he would’ve sent you first.. but now you were one of his only options until he really got frustrated.

“Oh but do this for me and you’ll get your own little studio! Your own show! Be your own boss, have your own crew.. you get the idea. All financially supported by me! Oh and you even get to live by yourself.. although—

I still own you. Get that. But you get your little artistic freedom huh sweetheart? What do you say? Do this little favor for me? If you don’t I’ll simply.. kill you.

Or throw you in the streets. Depending on how badly you fuck up you’ll get either one of the two! You’ll die either way.”

You were left a bit shocked, the immense dump of information overwhelming you so. “I—I—“

“Good.” He cut you off.. geez. “You start in two days, two days to get what you need and to at least plan how you’ll keep me updated. And remember, you give me all the information either throughout your stay there or you spit it all out when I need you to still be here on the job.” He fixed his bow tie walking towards the set to start the broadcast, a strong frown decorating his screen before hiding his stress with a cocky smile for the cameras.

You looked at your reflection with a grim look on your face, heart sinking and a shaky sigh escaped.

You didn’t want to see him again. You couldn’t.. you— wouldn’t.

But you needed to do it whether you liked it or not. You knew this.

Survive, get a few more perks and bonuses that would very much make you live your afterlife a bit more comfortably.

It’s just gonna be a month right?— Fuck.. Vox didn’t specify how long simply just… a few weeks. Most likely he just wants you to be there as long as you could.

Keep your life, get a better job, better home home, stay protected. That’s what you’ve been focusing for all these years—

Why stop now.

____________________________________

Dragged by the princess you were stopped in front of a group of sinners, your other hand almost losing its grip on your suitcase but managed to catch it by the tips of your fingers. The sweat from the anxiety that was accumulating while on your way here.

It weirded you out a bit that Charlie didn’t react to your drenched hand. maybe she was too overwhelmed with emotions as well to notice?…

Charlie set you in front of a pink spider, someone you knew all too well from the constant advertisements, short interactions with him, and Valentino’s undying yapping, Angel Dust.

“Angel, meet ____, _____ meet Angel!! She’s going to stay here for a chance at redemptiooon!! How amazing!” Her excitement was pouring out like thunder and lightening, just simply uncontainable.

The pink soul darted its eyes at you with a sense of familiarity. You knew being a known figure would be a bit of a challenge but god— you really wanted that place to yourself.

“Heyy.. Angel..” you waved a little sheepishly, knowing how awkward this feels for you at least.

Angel eyed you a bit intensely, but you knew deep down he sorta understood why you’d be here as well— at least not knowing that Vox himself sent you here—maybe he thinks that your presence is due to the same reason he’s away from Valentino. Needing an escape from your abusers and bosses was something he understood all too well.

“Hiya cutie, didn’t expect to see you here of all places.” He smirked as he waved back at you but in a more confident and laid back way than you did.

Charlie paused at his words, “Oh? You two know eachother?—“

“Oh.. I know this adorable face anywhere!” Angel exclaimed proudly with one of his arms reaching over to squish one of your cheeks playfully, you laughing a bit due to the slight awkwardness of the situation but also because he was one of the very few people you never had issues with despite how much you guys never really talked much.

“She’s a real darling, hard worker and all. Although.. didn’t think your boss was that bad as to make you want to run in here of all places..”

“I was about to say— aren’t you that chick that is on TV for that one overlord’s show or somethin’…” a low and almost growly voice spoke from slightly farther away.

Looking towards that particular direction you are met with a cat-like person, a furry soul with fluffy ears and a seemingly insatiable thirst for alcohol the way he drank down a large bottle of cheap booze like water.

Your shoulders raised up a bit in embarrassment, smiling as a way to cover up your nervousness that was already slipping.

“Didn’t we also literally catch Pentious trying to work for him literally not that long ago?.. At this point they aren’t even trying to hide it by sending her here.” Spoke another, this time a more serious female voice descended from a mature woman with long silver hair and an ‘X’ over her eye that resembled those of the exorcists.. huh.

You shook your hands together a bit as you tried to defend yourself in a way, not wanting to be caught this easily “Oh nonono!.. I’m not here because my boss sent me I— I just..—“

“Yknow what Vagina,” Angel interrupted you to glare at the woman that spoke “If you knew anything about how the V’s treat their employees you wouldn’t blame her and I for wanting to be away from them and anything work related.. got it toots?”

Your heart warmed slightly but also let out a huge sigh of relief. Maybe that wasn’t the real reason why you were here but you were glad to know that Angel was someone you could relate the most due to your very similar situations.

“Yea Vaggie! Let’s give her a chance! If Angel knows her and if we make sure she’s here for reals then she’s a perfect second official resident!!”

The girl, now named Vaggie by Charlie, rolls her eyes as she lets out a sigh. “Can we at least check if she has no electronics on her. If this turns out to be another Pentious I will not hesitate this time.”

A single glare from her one eye piercing you with a sharp and merciless spike. Making you feel even more nervous and unwelcomed but.. you knew you had to just keep going..

“Oh Vaggie no need to be so rude to our new guest! We can do those checks later! Right now it’s introduction time!!” She exclaimed almost jumping up a down, a bit too joyous for your liking.

Angel noticed this and side eyed you while whispering a cheeky comment to you “Ms. Rainbow pants here may be a bit much but you’ll get used to it sweetcheeks.” He said, with a tone more sounding of an older brother of sorts.

You smiled a bit at him but then looked away to try to relax, not excited to be ‘introduced’ to someone you knew was in the far.. far corner of it all.

“Oh and this is Vaggie! My girlfriend and manager of this establishment! If you have any issues or concerns you may check in with her, she’s a-ma-zing!” Despite making her sound helpful and less.. terrifying. You couldn’t help but still feel rather intimidated.

Vaggie continued to glare at you with a clear distrust in you. You just waved at her shyly as well, trying to at least not seem as dangerous as she may think you are.

Until Charlie once again dragged you to four other figures, the fourth one a bit behind the first three. “And this is Husk the bartender, Nifty our housekeeper and cook, and Sir Pentious! Pentious being one of our first official residents!”

She spoke each name by pointing to which name belonged to who, Pentious’s name ringing a bell but it was new seeing his appearance. So this is the guy that forced Vox to drag you here instead..

Husk, the cat that spoke earlier simply looked at you and didn’t give another word, downing yet another bottle. Pentious waved at you with the same energy you gave as well but was more or less focused on his ‘eggs’ that were poking at the flesh around his eyes on his tail and Nifty.. well..

She was on top of you, more specifically— your head.

She was sniffing you, eying you like a fucking hawk, inspecting you as if you could be contaminated with a dying virus— your breath hitched as you hoped she wouldn’t smell the fear growing on you as your skin went cold.

“Fairly.. clean….” She then backed up slightly to inspect your eyes with her own giant one only to then scurry off across your body like a bug, causing you to get disgusting goosebumps.

“Pretty.. smells nice.. no dirt—“ she then stopped by suddenly standing in front of you with a big ol’ smile as if what she just did was incredibly normal.

“Hiya! I’m Nifty! Had to make sure you weren’t bringing any filth in the hotel.. I just cleaned this place…” She took out her little hand for you to shake.. being hesitant but not willing to be rude to someone this peculiar— you shook her hand with just two of your fingers and before you could pull away yourself she then immediately scurried off as fast as she came.

“And then last but not least—“

“Alastor! Quite a pleasure, a real pleasure to get to meet you young lady! Please, feel free to be welcomed into the Hazbin Hotel!” Alastor, the radio demon, dad— approached you with such enthusiasm and enticement. As if he couldn’t wait to talk to you.

Your blood ran cold, eyes widened with fear, your free hand clutched tightly at the handle of your luggage as Alastor took the other to then put it up to where his smile was, not kissing it or having your hand too near his lips but still keeping courtesy of when meeting a woman as he usually would.

Even in death, he stays a gentleman as per usual.

“My my.. you poor soul. To have to run away from your employer down to this place.. why he must be a terrible person, isn’t he?”

Ah right.. Vox and Alastor hated eachother. You knew this very well.. you honestly didn’t know much about why they hated eachother other than the running joke that Vox most definitely lost a fight with him.

You died years later after Alastor did so you don’t exactly have the full scoop. Him dying in your late teens and you dying in your mid to almost late 20s. You lived life yet— some would say not enough.

“Poor thing, not to worry! Let this be your safe house! Your haven, your asylum, your refuge!” He exclaimed each two sets of words by twirling you around in an exaggerated manner, in a style reminiscent of the way dancers would spin their dance partners in the 30s. You recognized this move all too well— feeling almost nostalgic.

Although you were slightly grateful for one thing he was doing right.. not being overly revealing or announcing the one big fact you two had between the both of you.

You didn’t need that fact to be running around the place like some kind of daily gossip.

Before your anxiety would make you burst in crying or throwing up right in his face you immediately tugged your hand away, his own keeping your wrist in his palm.

“Thank.. you—“ your hand holding the luggage let go to try to tug his hand from holding you any longer until you then finally managed to pull his grip away from off of your other wrist in order to create more space between him and you from the immense anxiety you were having, your lungs threatening not to quicken and burst like balloons. You immediately went back to hold onto your luggage once more.

“How.. welcoming..” you pretended as if you were dusting off your clothes and your arms as if trying to tidy yourself up instead it really meant to give you a few more seconds to collect your thoughts properly.

‘God.. everyone knowing I’m with Vox is only going to make this real fucking hard— I didn’t think this entirely fucking through..’ ah yes.. you totallyyy weren’t panicking about this now active interaction the past two days huh—

‘just act calm and cool _____, you need that money, you need that place, you need that show, you need protection.. stick to the plan..’

“Uh— how humble!.. of your Hotel staff to be so.. welcoming— your highness.” You spoke to Charlie, smiling brightly as if all of this was just casual conversation.

“A real treat seeing dear ol’ Angel Dust here, good to see a familiar face ain’t it Angie?” You turned slightly towards the pornstar, with him returning your comment by exclaiming with a “Damn right!”

Charlie smiled intensely with a nod, face full of joy and innocence. “I’m so sososo glad you like it here so far!! Your experience here won’t be disappointing! You’ll have an absolute blast!—

oh oh!! Can’t forget! We have to get you to your room! If you’d like you can stay there and rest or come down here and join us! Whichever you feel comfortable with.”

“Why thank you very much your highness, your hospitality sure is a darn nice breath of fresh air compared to the rest of hell. Bunch of cats and dogs fighting like wild animals out there.. need a real break once in awhile..” you spoke as you followed Charlie as she lead the way to your room, giving you a minor tour of the hotel before letting you rest in your new humble abode.

Your act, although part sincere and true, was full of holes. Holes not enough for the normal gaze to see but they are clear enough for him to see.

Alastor would eye you as you followed the princess, his fingers uncurling and curling around his staff slowly and menacingly. His sharp pupils narrowing while aligning with his grin as it expanded with a sense of mischief holding it up by its ends.

He saw right through you, of course he would, he knows when you lie, know when you’re honest, when you’re afraid and happy.

Why lie to him my dear? If you know that he knows you like the back of his hand.

Either way he knows he’s going to have to catch you alone at some point, he must catch up to what he’s missed throughout the years he’s been gone from the living world and even in hell.. although you made it clear the last time you met in hell that you don’t want to see him again he finds it curious how you’re even here at all.

Oh but.. gosh.. how much his little girl has grown.

_________________________________

You were a two months from turning 7 years old now, being adopted almost a year ago was the most prolific moment in your young life. Your grandmother, her real name being Adelaide but you preferred to call her Nana or Grandmama… Nana was better for your little voice to stretch out more easily and faster.

She was always such a darling to you, treating you as if you were one of her own. She told you true most amazing and beautiful stories, shared and sang the most wonderful lullabies and songs that sometimes Alastor would join in on, would make delicious food that you adored throughout your childhood, love you unconditionally the way a grandmother would.

And technically you were hers through papers but sometimes it felt as if it was inconsistent in certain areas.. mostly with Alastor.

Alastor was a peculiar man, as famous and passionate as he was he certainly didn’t have a heart of gold, only open to those he truly cares for like his mother and his radio show. It was as if his heart was surrounded from the sky to the depth of the ground with rusty fences and sharped barbed wire that only allowed very few people and things being let into his life.

You tried to get close to him around this time, bringing him little gifts you made and trinkets you’d find that reminded you of him as a way to get closer.

But he always just smiled at you, gave you a pat, and either said ‘good job’, ‘oh how cute, leave it at my study now won’t you?’ ‘I’m sure your Nana would love it.’ And go right back to what he was doing..

You didn’t understand why that happened— but it seems as if he didn’t bother to get close to you simply because you were a gift to his mother, a granddaughter she wanted to have but he couldn’t give unless through legal assistance,

you were for her to love— not for him to raise.

At least that was the case at this point in time.

It was weird.. you never truly has any terrible or bad interactions but— yet it made you disappointed each time, made you crave for his attention. After all— he’s supposed to be your father. Why wasn’t he paying attention?..

You were currently in your room sitting at your desk, papers scattered with different colored wax and pencils messily thrown around on the surface.

You were drawing something, a gift as a last chance to get him to notice you properly. You even had a special gift that your Nana helped you pick out for him! Surely, your dear dad would notice you now right?

Scribbling the last few finishing touches you then dropped the pen on the table as you exclaimed a little “Aha!” And raising the drawing up high, feeling proud of your masterpiece!

You quickly set the drawing down as you then hopped off your chair to a cower through a little playbox full of toys you had, only to search for one single thing. Once your tiny finally felt the touch of wood and slight metal, you grabbed it and pulled it out with yet again another delightful glee.

It was a small radio shaped wooden charm, the metal being the small little ‘hand’ that moved whenever the radio was operating and transmitting audio frequencies. The perfect gift for papa!

You then quickly grabbed the drawing off your desk, both your gifts in hand your little feet went pitter patter as you ran to the dining room where Alastor was having lunch freshly made by his mother.

Your Nana having recently left the home to get a few emergency groceries, made this a good time for just him and you to connect.

“Papa! papa!” You squealed, Alastor’s brows furrowing at several elements in his surroundings annoying him slightly..

“_____, no running in the house remember? Cant have too much noise disturbing our home.” Despite his scolding you couldn’t help but to just giggle and almost jump in excitement in what you’re planning to give him. He continued “Besides as I have mentioned many times before, call me Al—“

“But papa! Papa!— look!—“ you interrupted him, your voice projecting a bit more into a yell as to have him look at what you have.

“_____, no yelling please dear. I can hear you quite well. I’m not a mile away..”

“Yes papa— b—but!.. look..! I made you something..” you then gently set the drawing up at the table first beside his food. Alastor’s attention finally set on the paper and even stopped eating to look at it. He picked it up.. his eyes inspecting it.

It was a drawing of you and him in a sunny flower meadow in a forest both you and his mother had a picnic in recently, except it was just the both of you here.

The drawing was definitely not the most perfect but it was definitely the cutest. Your scribbles somehow managing to immediately the shape of his hair perfectly, his glasses were visible and his red suit was very on parr with what he would wear on the daily, then there was you— your hair a bit more messily drawn than his and seemed more rushed.. as if you couldn’t yet wait to finish the piece. To top it all off it even had small scribbled words in pencil that said ‘papa’ and ‘me’ and an arrow pointing at each individual figure that fit that description.

Oh how cute.

You stared up at him closely, even for a young kid as yourself you were able to notice the way his usually dark and cold eyes had a twinkle in them, a sort of softness diluting his everyday smile ever so slightly.

It took him a second before you then set the trinket on the table where he picked up the paper from “And this is also for you papa.. nana helped me pick it out for you since I said I wanted to give you a present…”

His eyes darted towards the trinket and even picked it up, inspecting the work and its shapes along with the design of it as a whole. Admiring it almost.

His eyes darted back to the drawing, both hands with both gifts.

“Darling…”

Your little heart ran faster, your hopes were rising up to the heavens. Is he gonna say he was proud?.. he loves it? Adores it?.. hates it?—

“This is cute and all, but don’t forget to draw Nana in next time! She was at that picnic with us too remember!” He exclaimed as he smiled at you in an almost bittersweet way, his softness almost being wiped off entirely.

You frowned, “but.. I made it for you papa.. I’m always with nana so.. I wanted to make something for you!” You smiled fondly at him, trying to still hope for a ‘I’m proud’ from him.

“Aww is that so dear?” He spoke as he then set the gifts on the table on the opposite side of where you were, all while hiding behind a smile.

“Well just don’t forget to add Nana in next time, thank you darling for the lovely gifts.” And just like that he began eating.

Ah.. still the same— reaction. It was a bit better.. it wasn’t just a short and quick sentence at least so that made you smile a bit but.. you expected much more.. a hug, a proud smile.

“Yes, papa…” you then slowly walked off back into your room. A bit down but you weren’t going to let that ruin your smile, Nana always told you and papa to always smile no matter what. So that’s what you’ll keep doing. Even if— your expectations were dearly hurt today.

What you didn’t see was Alastor yet again inspecting the gifts you gave him after you left, a hand tilting it a bit to see it clearly and to have the trinket closer to the figures of the both of you.

His permanent smile’s ends stretched a bit, a ‘hm’ escaping his throat as he took another sip from his black coffee.

He never truly saw himself as your father, never fully taking care of you unless his mother asked him to.

Ah but, it was nice to think that way huh?

(HAIIII THABK YOU FOR READING THISSSS I had lots of fun writing this and omfg I have so many idea for Vox and reader interactions, especially when the plot thickens. But thank you so much for the wait on chapter 1 of this story!! I know the prologue has been awhile but I reallyyyy want to continue this since this is my very first original alastor and daughter fanfic that I’ve written years ago and want to revamp into this!!)

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flowerandblood · 5 months

Text

The Fall from the Heavens

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, humiliation, bullying, chauvinism ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He had always felt that he lacked something. Part of him claimed that if a dragon had hatched from his egg, things would have been different, however, years later, he recognised that this was not entirely true.

Aegon had a gift for light-hearted conversation, an ironic humour that he lacked. He kept telling him to smile at last, to get his nose out of his books, that he was boring, perpetually serious and withdrawn. He preferred to spend time with Jace and Luke − they were louder and funnier than him, they understood him, they had dragons, they had what he was missing.

They didn't spare unpleasant comments even to their own sister, calling her a hamster, most likely referring to her rosy, firm cheeks and big eyes.

He could see that she was running away from them crying, but he wasn't going to comfort her. She was a girl, her world seemed to him as distant as Essos, completely incomprehensible to him, filled with beautiful gowns, embroidery and music.

The only thing they had in common was books.

They bumped into each other occasionally in the library, and although at first they simply pretended not to see one another, one day she dared to sit next to him as he looked through the family tree of their ancestors.

"What are you doing?" She asked, placing the large volume on the table in front of them with difficulty. He huffed as the dust that rose with her movement reached his nostrils, out of the corner of his eye he noticed that it was The Great History of Aegon the Conqueror.

He did not reply, turning the page of the book, not knowing why he should explain it to her.

He didn't believe her, didn't trust her, didn't want her.

She was a bastard, though she probably didn't know it herself, wallowing in riches like a princess even though she didn't deserve them.

He didn't want her pity, attention or anything else she could give him.

He didn't want to be her second choice, the place she ran to because her brothers were mean to her; he had his own, in his mind very adult, worries and he didn't want to listen to hers.

"Is this a book dedicated to our family history?" She asked softly, leaning out so that she could see what he was reading. She stood up coming closer to him and he pressed his lips together when he smelled her pleasant scent, some intense vanilla oil.

He felt a tightening and burbling in his stomach at the thought of the cake that smelled similar, which his mother had ordered to be baked for his Name Day a few months earlier.

"Ah, our family tree. Where are we?" She asked cheerfully, as if intrigued, and he sighed heavily, reluctantly flipping forward a few pages, tracing their line with his finger, showing her a place at the very end.

He swallowed loudly as he saw how Laenor Velaryon was written in the space where her father was inscribed, trying not to smile with mockery.

She leaned lower, looking at the area he had pointed at and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her cheek right next to his.

He was surprised at how different they were, apart from the obvious fact that he was a man and she was a woman.

His eyelashes were almost white and translucent and hers were black, long, surrounding her shining eyes, making them seem even bigger to him. His skin was pale, thin as parchment when hers was flushed and full of life, her lips plump and moist, her nose shapely and straight, the contour of her face gentle as his jaw was outlined sharply.

And finally, his hair, the colour of Targaryen's, the white she lacked, her luscious black curls falling gently down her back was visible proof of who her father was.

Although he liked to mock her in spirit, he couldn't say she was ugly or repulsive.

"Would you marry Helaena if our King so commanded?" She asked curiously, glancing sideways at his seated figure. He lifted his gaze to her and sighed heavily, figuring that nothing would happen if he spoke to her for a while.

She was simply bored, just like him, and he didn't get the impression that she had come to entertain herself at his expense.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes. I would do my duty as a Prince and son of the King." He said lowly, solemnly, fiddling between his fingers with the page of the book he had just looked at, crossing his legs − even though he was still a child, he was trying to sound and look like a man.

She cocked her head, clearly genuinely intrigued by his statement, a wide smile on her face.

"Are you in love with her?" She asked as if it was obvious, as if she was encouraging him to reveal his little secret to her. He looked at her in disbelief, not knowing what to make of her question. He swallowed loudly, lowering his gaze, feeling his heart pounding fast.

What did it matter?

"Well…she's my sister. Of course I love her." He replied coolly, feeling strange with the words on his tongue, as if there was something inappropriate about them.

"I love Jace too, but I'm not in love with him. There's a difference." She said with a kind of calmness and wisdom that surprised him; she stood beside him looking at him with a gentle expression on her face that consternated him.

Why were they even having this conversation?

Still, her words made him feel a tightness in his throat, a realisation that he understood what she meant, but didn't want to admit it.

The tenderness of falling in love, the poems and the late-night frolicking were the domain of women's imagination, which unfortunately then had to collide with the cruel reality. He was a man, however, and he had no intention of getting into these deep divagations of the weaker sex.

"Don't be naïve. Marriage is not meant to be a pleasure. It is meant to be a sacrifice for the good of the kingdom, to secure its needs." He said dryly, turning back to the page he had been reading earlier, frustrated for some reason by her remark.

She did not speak again, returning to her seat, sinking into reading the gigantic volume dedicated to Aegon the Conqueror.

Although he could have done it in his chamber, he had been coming to the library to read ever since and always met her in the same place. Although they didn't appoint themselves, they both had their assignments until midday and would turn up there to read immediately afterwards, sitting next to each other, exchanging thoughts in passing.

He was afraid that Aegon would see them one day, but fortunately he never ventured into the abyss of the library, few people went there and he felt reasonably safe.

Usually it was she who asked him questions and he was the one who answered her. He felt some sort of empowerment because of this, at last there was someone who appreciated his knowledge and rhetoric, who listened intently to his opinion.

"I would like to be like Rhaenys in the future." She said softly and he looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Rhaenys? What's interesting about her? Visenya could fight with a sword and she rode the largest dragon still alive in this world. If I had a choice, I would marry her." He said without thinking, recognising that it would be wonderful to have by his side a woman who could wield a sword perfectly, with a sharp tongue and temperament, who would be a born warrior like him.

He saw his niece raise an eyebrow in amusement, a sort of childlike joy on her face, her eyes shining.

"Aegon the Conqueror thought otherwise. Out of ten nights, nine he spent with Rhaenys." She said mockingly, as if immensely pleased that she could take the argument out of his hand. He pressed his lips together at her remark and shrugged his shoulders, returning to his reading.

He didn't care what men and women did at night − his mother had told him that he shouldn't bother with it for the time being, and he had decided that there was in fact no need to, until his father called on him one morning.

"− no −" He heard his mother's voice, leaning over the table where the tired King sat, looking at her as if half asleep. "− I do not agree, Viserys, it's not −"

She did not finish, hearing his footsteps and folded her arms in front of her, trying to calm herself, letting out a loud breath. His father nodded at him to come closer, which he did obediently, feeling his heart pounding hard.

His father had never yet called on him on any serious matter.

"I have just been discussing with your mother the importance of our family, of our kingdom remaining united. Although I have agreed that, according to tradition, your sister should marry your brother and not your nephew, I would like you to be the one to bring House Targaryen together anew, and that you should marry the daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the future." He said calmly, with each finished sentence tapping his fingers on the table top, as if to add some finality and certainty to his words that he was convinced this was the right thing to do.

"− this is ridiculous − Aemond should secure our kingdom with a marriage to the daughter of one of the lords who can benefit us −" His mother began impatiently, her husband sighed loudly, exhausted.

"And who should receive this honour? The Starks? The Arryns? The Baratheons? No choice would be good, for someone would always feel disadvantaged. Marriage within the family will not outrage anyone on the outside, and will only strengthen what has been strained." He said with conviction; the Queen swallowed hard, shaking her head, finally looking at him as if she was certain he abhorred the idea as much as she did.

"− Aemond, you don't have to agree −" She said in a trembling voice, and he swallowed hard, looking at the stone floor beneath his feet, feeling his heart pounding hard.

Bastard or not, the dragon's blood flowed in her, as it did in him. She didn't despise or mistreat him. She knew what duty and obligation meant.

He reasoned that although he would have preferred to have a female warrior by his side, in fact the idea of marrying her did not reject him. He preferred her to the daughter of some common lord.

In his own way, he even liked her.

He grunted, feeling proud to rise to the occasion and fulfil his father's desire.

"If it is my King's wish, I will marry her, for the sake of the kingdom and our family." He said lowly, looking him straight in the eyes, standing upright, his hands folded in front of him.

He felt a tightening in his throat as his father smiled at him sincerely, for the first and last time in his life.

"So it's decided."

He didn't know how the message had been conveyed to his betrothed, however he could see by the look on her face as she ran into the library, all red with emotion, that someone had made her aware of what had happened and he felt a twist in his stomach.

He was afraid she would make it clear to him that she didn't want him, that she abhorred him, that she had no intention of marrying a man who didn't have a dragon of his own.

As she approached him however her eyes sparkled, she laughed as if she didn't believe it.

"Is it true?" She asked breathing loudly and he swallowed hard, nodding his head, looking at her with wide eyes.

"I'm so happy." She giggled sweetly, warmly, covering her mouth with her hand, as if someone had just given her a wonderful surprise.

He felt some kind of heat in his chest, an affection towards her, a gratitude for her faithfulness, for her devotion, for the fact that she respected him.

He was shocked to think that she would make a good wife.

Aegon laughed at him, not understanding where his lack of objection came from, how he could think that good had happened.

"She doesn't even have an arse or tits." He sneered and he clenched his jaw, wrinkling his brow, looking at him over his shoulder.

"Shut your mouth. Don't speak about her this way." He growled, feeling that her good name was now his as well, and that he had to protect her.

Aegon snorted, shaking his head, patting him on the back piteously.

"My little brother fell in love with Lady Strong?" He asked, forcing himself into a sweet, mocking tone as if he were speaking to a small child, which angered him even more. He slammed his head against his forehead, and he swore in pain, staggering backwards, catching the table, which fell over with him.

"You fucking bastard!" He shouted throwing himself at him, and they began to pound each other with their fists, wrestling with each other on the floor, until, hearing the commotion, a servant girl rushed into his chamber, trying to separate them.

His future wife visited him in his chamber that day, concerned that he had not appeared in the library, raising her eyebrows in simultaneous concern and amusement as she saw him holding an ice cube to his red cheek, a large bruise under his eye.

"What's happened?" She asked as she was accustomed to, without any pleasantries, approaching him sitting in a chair that was, however, too big and his legs did not reach the ground. He just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders without answering.

He had no intention of revealing what had caused the fight − he wasn't going to appear to her as a prince on a white horse who would worship and adore her, as in all those poems she had surely read.

"Does it hurt a lot?" She asked further, and he shook his head. She sighed heavily, taking a single lemon cake from the pocket of her bottom gown, placing it in front of him.

"I know the Queen only allows you to eat sweets after your weekly visit to the Great Sept, but I stole one for you anyway. As a consolation." She said proudly, and he nodded, lifting his gaze to her, involuntarily feeling grateful.

She cared for him without wanting anything in return.

Since they were betrothed, she hadn't asked him for solitary walks, gifts, confessions of love or anything else a lady of her status might desire from the man she was to marry.

"Thank you." He replied calmly, recognising that he could give her at least that much.

She looked around his chamber and he realised that she was in it for the first time in her life. He stood up, setting the ice sack down in the bowl, walking over to his bookshelf, a gift to him from his mother.

"If you wish, I can lend you some. Just pick which one." He said softly, coming to the conclusion that he wanted to be kind to her, that he wanted her to have no regrets about him becoming her husband, to be proud of it.

She looked at him gratefully and took out a book written by the ancient philosopher, Areon, dissecting human dignity and duty. Something about her choice pleased him, the thought that she wanted to understand him.

She pressed the book to her heart and looked at him, her eyes seemed even bigger to him than usual, her beautiful long eyelashes, hair and plump lips shone in the summer light of the day.

He felt a pleasant tickle in his lower abdomen watching her without saying a word.

"Can I kiss you?" She asked so quietly that for a moment he thought he had overheard himself; he felt his whole body tense up, his pupils dilate in disbelief, his breathing quicken, his fingers involuntarily rubbing against each other in a subconscious nervous reflex.

Oh gods.

Should they be doing this?

Was this the right thing to do?

She was supposed to be his wife. From what he understood, husbands and wives did this, as a kind of union and intimacy.

He swallowed loudly, looking at her lips, thinking they looked pleasantly warm and soft; a shiver went through him at the thought that he could feel them in a moment if he wanted to.

He nodded his head.

He watched her vigilantly, involuntarily breathing through his mouth as she stepped closer to him; he was taller than her and leaned in slightly, wanting to make her task easier.

She surprised him when she suddenly lifted up on her tiptoes and her lips pressed against his in a warm, innocent kiss − he felt like his heart had stopped for a moment, the scent of vanilla filled his lungs, her skin delightfully moist and soft.

It felt so pleasant.

She pulled away from him immediately, all red as he was, breathing hard, as if it took a lot of effort and courage from her too, her eyes looked at him dreamy, as if she was waiting for his reaction, but he was unable to get anything out.

"One more time." It came out of him like a weak whisper, like a plea through which he felt the shame overpowering him.

For the first time, someone wanted him.

She smiled before rising on her toes again, this time placing a hand on his shoulders for balance − she pressed her fleshy, moist lips to his for a longer time and sighed softly as he touched her cheek, wonderfully soft and warm. She pulled away from him and closed her eyes feeling him stroke her skin with his thumb, he pressed his forehead against hers, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

"Will you come to me at night?"

He had nightmares most of the time at night − usually dreams in which he saw anew the pig that his brother and nephews had introduced to him as his dragon, humiliating him as no one had ever done before. He found that her presence calmed him and that perhaps if she slept in the same bed, he would finally get some rest.

He didn't think about the fact that it might have been at least inappropriate in the eyes of others when under the cover of night she snuck into his chamber, slipping under the thick furs beside him, snuggling up to him. In his mind she was already his wife, and wives slept with their husbands − unless it was his parents.

They lay that night looking at each other with their foreheads pressed together, stroking each other's cheeks, their wordless, innocent confession of affection and need for closeness.

"We are going to have seven children." He stated after some thought, as if he had decided that such a number would satisfy him. He wanted his family to be strong and broad, and also seven were gods, so it had symbolic meaning as well.

She blinked, as if something troubled her in his words, furrowing her brow.

"My mother gets very tired during childbirth and then can't get up for a few days. With the rest, how do we do it?" She asked uncertainly and he shrugged his shoulders.

He had never delved into the ins and outs of the pleasures of the flesh too much − Aegon had said that rapprochements with women were very pleasurable and, as he understood, that was why he couldn't pull away from them, to him, however, what he had was enough.

"We'll find out everything when we're older. Do not fret." He said with certainty, stroking her soft, plump cheek with his thumb and she cheered up, he saw the sparkle in her gaze before her lips stole a soft, warm kiss from him again.

He smiled at the thought that he felt that in her eyes he was a man, the head of their future family.

There had been times when he had forgotten who she was, who her father was, her smile, her laugh, her eyes, the sweet kisses she bestowed on him when they were alone made him think it didn't matter anymore.

Years later, he could not believe how wrong he was.

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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hai7ani · 3 months

Text

divorced parents au / with your faves

When your daughter turned two, you and your husband had brought her to Disneyland as her birthday gift. Growing up, Umi was always fond of the 12 Disney Princesses ー more specifically Princess Belle ー and she keeps a photograph of her and Belle at a meet and greet on her nightstand. Her father's half-expected her favourite to be Ariel, given that Ariel and Umi do go pretty well together. (Ariel and the sea.)

In Disneyland that summer your baby has had the time of her life, so she starts asking for it every birthday (which slowly turned into every milestone) and up until then you both have had no issues with bringing her there. He'd told you once that if going there makes her happy then he was willing to visit again, no matter the amount of times and the slight boringness he'd have to face when waiting in line to go on rides or booths.

Today she had learned how to properly draw a flying bird in art class after failing a few times and drew flying chickens instead. When you picked her up from school, the first thing she said after showing you her art proudly was, 'Let's go to Disneyland, Mama! Let's go with Daddy!'

You would bring her if you could. You know you would in a heartbeat.

But it has been two years since her last visit to Disneyland, and you and your husband aren't together anymore.

So when he comes over for dinner tonight ー just like he has been every Friday without miss ever since your divorce ー you show him Umi's drawing of the flying bird.

"Can I bring this back with me? I'd like to frame it up." He asks. In his head he plans to hang it on the wall of his living room, right on top of his television, next to your family portrait.

You eat a piece of the orange he'd peeled. "Of course."

At noon when your daughter asked, you told her no. So at night she is tugging on her father's shirt with a red face full of tears and she is begging for him to stay.

"Stay here, daddy. Don't go." She cries to him at the foyer. Only one side of his shoe is put on and he kicks it away quick when she attempts to climb into his arms.

"You'll see me again on Sunday, Mimi." He attempts to console her. "We're gonna go to the mall together 'n we'll find the toy you've been wanting."

Her father scoops her into his arms and sits on the floor. She kicks her feet in the air and wails.

"But I want to go to Disneyland with you and Mama." She sobs into his arms. He pecks her crown and shushes her a little.

When your chest gets too heavy you push yourself off the wall you've been leaning against and turn your back to them.

(You've been watching the duo since the moment her father was putting on his shoe, ready to leave, and your daughter came running after him in her pyjamas with wet tears already streaming down her cheeks.)

And Umi continues to cry while her father rocks her in his arms, trying his best to console her.

While walking away from the scene, you pick on the skin around your thumb. Your nose sours and you try pinching it in hopes of soothing it a little.

"Why d'ya wanna go to Disneyland?" You hear him ask before you disappear into the hallway. It's funny how he still asks even though you and him both know that going or not going to Disneyland was never the problem.

Umi sniffles. Her father hums for her to say it.

You hide behind the door of your bedroom.

"I want Mama, Daddy and Umi together again."

Just the three of us together in Umi's favourite place.

You cry.

"She's asleep now."

You pause from folding laundry at the couch and look up. He's got both hands in his pockets and a soft smile planted on his face.

He's also a mess, you notice ー his shirt a little stretched and out of place from how hard your daughter had been tugging on it earlier, the fabric wet from tear and snot stains, his hair a bit disheveled (you figure he was resting beside her when putting her to sleep), and he's moving to sit beside you on the couch now.

You smile back. "Thank you. I haven't been able to calm her down easily these days."

He picks up one of the garments from the pile and starts folding it beside you. "It's fine. You know I like doing it." I like being a dad, is what he wishes to say. But he knows you know it already and he holds his tongue.

Neither of you say a thing to each other after that and he continues helping you with the laundry. He folds your bra the way you prefer and your daughter's school uniform neatly so that it doesn't crease.

You steal a few glances at him without shame while stacking his sweatpants onto his pile of clothes.

"Your hair's getting long." You comment.

"Is it?" He raises his brows, genuinely wanting to know.

"Yeah." You reach a hand up to comb through his soft strands of hair. You push them back and try parting it on the middle.

"I've been busy." He's got a boxy, kind of nervous smile on his face when he explains. "Can't really see well through the mirror anyway." He rubs his nape.

You chuckle. "Want me to cut it for you?"

"Okay."

You still keep a room for your ex-husband even after the end of your marriage and he's given you the house.

You like telling yourselves it's solely for the sake of your daughter, for when she misses her father a little too much and refuses to let him leave.

But both of you know that's not really the case.

Somehow it didn't feel right when he was in the process of moving out to his new apartment somewhere in Meguro, and you slowly realise that you'd be having an empty room all to yourself.

(Back then you didn't think you could cope with living alone in the house you used to love each other in ー in the house you'd both created a life in.

You still don't now. Not really, anyway.)

So you transform the room that used to be his study into his own bedroom just right across the master (yours). He didn't reject the idea when you told him so.

And because of this, you leave your bedroom door open whenever he stays the night.

Tonight you do it again, and you watch him across the hall, in his room, drying off his freshly cut hair. Your head is resting on the edge of the bed with one hand tucked under your cheek and the other playing with a plush toy he'd gifted you many years ago.

When he turns to hang his towel on the wall he sees you like this. You don't shy away when he smirks.

"Goodnight." You mouth to him. You stay like that until he leaves his door open and finally gets in bed ー until he, too, shuffles around, and dangles his head off the edge of his own bed.

"Goodnight." He mouths it back to you.

You spend some time looking at each other like that ー really taking your realities in ー in rooms across each other with heads dangling off the edge of your beds, two hearts connected by the sea, and your daughter asleep in the room next to yours.

On most nights he comes over sometime during the night and helps you back on your pillow when you accidentally fall asleep like this, and every time, you'd unconsciously tug on his arm and beg him not to go.

He stays every single time.

Tonight, however, he pads over to your room while you're still awake with a pillow clutched in one hand.

"Hi." You scoot on the bed to make space for him as he throws his pillow next to yours and lays down beside you ー face to face, heart to heart. "Hey." He sighs upon getting comfortable on the bed he'd grown to find so much comfort in.

You bring the blanket up to cover his shoulders. He scoots closer to you, sneaks a hand under your shirt, and rubs a warm hand up and down your spine. (You always sleep better when he rubs your back like this.)

And while falling asleep you think to yourself that perhaps someday you'll get to try again as lovers.

You know for a fact that you'll always love him in your heart, and you'll never stop loving him even though it doesn't really make sense anymore ー just like how he'd sworn to never love again after your divorce.

Perhaps someday the both of you would be ready to move on ー still loving each other, but ready to move on from your past, from your love.

And perhaps someday the two of you wouldn't have to argue about money or time anymore. Perhaps someday he'll find a suitable work-life balance, and you're able to trust him enough to keep himself safe at work.

But for now, he's content with rubbing your back as you fall asleep next to him in the bed you'd once shared. You're content with the flowers he still buys you from time to time and cutting his hair whenever it grows out.

For now, you know that you're not ready to move on just yet. Both of you are not, and both of you have something else in mind...

You want to try again.

And you know that trying again will not be easy, but you both also know that you're willing to start all over again with everything you have if given the chance, the opportunity.

Maybe someday.

Maybe you'll give it more time.

(You feel a nudge on your elbow.)

Or...

"Wanna go to Disneyland tomorrow?"

(You smile.)

"Yes."

...Maybe tomorrow?

(He reddens all over.)

"Okay."

You'll see.

(just some characters i have in mind) TOKYO REVENGERS RAN, RINDOU, KAKUCHO, DRAKEN, NAOTO JUJUTSU KAISEN GOJO, NANAMI BLUE LOCK SAE, RIN HAIKYUU KITA, OSAMU & your faves

(i have never been to disneyland before. 😹)

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readychilledwine · 4 months

Note

Honestly need more fics of Azriel or Eris spanking either reader or oc… for science…

For Science

Warnings - impact play, brat taming, dom/sub dynamics, degradation, toy use, filth.

A/n - did I possibly get this done faster in response to all the Eris hate going around lately? Yes. Do I regret it? No.

You had gone too far. Teasing Eris through the mating bond was one thing. Teasing Azriel, though? That was dangerous territory, and you knew that.

You had worn his favorite tight short black dress to Rita's, drank after his shadows had tapped you indicating you were to stop. He had sat, a tight grip on a glass of whiskey, watching you flirt, dance, and drink your way past the bedtime he and Eris expected you to follow. He had all but dragged you out of Rita's growling in your ear about how you've earned everything that was coming.

That's how you found yourself being forced to walk into Eris's cabin as Azriel tightly gripped your hair and threw you to Eris's feet.

The heir didn't even bother looking up from his book, patting his lap, and waiting for you to lay across it. When you didn't, he finally set the novel down, kneeling before you and gripping your chin. "And what exactly is my little princess so upset about that she felt this was how she needed to get our attention?"

You tried looking away from him, pouting because the answer was obvious.

You had not spent time with either of them in 2 weeks. They were both so busy dealing with Beron, with Briallyn , with Koschei that caring and paying attention to you had gone out the window.

So, you decided to run an experiment. It had actually started the week before. Small acts of disobedience morphing into breaking actual rules when neither were around morphing into this.

The limit on how bratty you could be was drawn at another male touching your body.

The result was unknown. But you had a feeling you would not be walking the next day.

"I swear on the Cauldron if you do not fucking answer him this will only be worse for you." You heard Azriel behind you, unbuckling his belt and ripping it from his pants. You heard the Crack as he tested it, flinching slightly and looking up at Eris with doe eyes.

"You haven't paid attention to me in 2 weeks," his face softened lightly. "2 weeks daddy."

Eris stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, "We've been busy, princess. You know this. We talked about it. You know I can't come there without Rhysand's permission or invitation."

Your response was the nail in the coffin for Azriel. It was a direct attack on him, going straight for the jugular of his ability to care for you without Eris present. "He's been there. He's been too busy with his precious Elain to even care."

The refusal to address him by his name.

To refuse to call him daddy as well.

It was the final disrespect he'd allow.

"Get her on your lap or bend her over the couch. I don't care which. She will be naked and in position when I get back, or I'll punish you too."

Eris felt his jaw twitch kissing your forehead gently as Azriel walked out of the room and into the spare bedroom. The two of them had turned it into a small dungeon. A place they could bring you beyond the brink of pleasure and submission. Fucking you until you were nothing more than a pliant drooling cock drunk sleeve made perfectly for them.

The fact that he had not told Eris to bring you into there was a clear message.

You would not receive pleasure tonight until Azriel decided.

And his punishments could last hours.

Eris forced you to stand, removing your dress as silver began to line your eyes. He stripped you, leaving only the garter belt and thigh highs you had worn beneath the dress. "Bend over the couch, princess."

"But daddy-" He held a hand up ignoring the tears that were already falling.

"You chose this. Bend over the couch, be s good girl for your daddies, and maybe he will let you suck his cock. That is probably all you will get tonight."

You nodded, moving to the couch and bending over the arm. Eris sat in the chair nearby to watch, his shirt now long gone and pants loosened. Azriel stalked into the room like a predator, and you watched Eris's gaze widen in excitement. "Hands behind your back. I'm not going to ask again."

You whimpered at the command, moving them shakily and then whined when cold metal locked them in place behind you, forcing you to have to use your abs to support yourself. "Daddy, I'm sorry."

You heard Azriel pause behind you, then him grabbing something. "Not as sorry as you are going to be, angel."

The first impact of the paddle had you screaming. Body immediately shaking and scambling to try to get away. A second and third came quickly making you cry out, the flesh already stinging from the speed and accuracy Azriel used.

He then spanked you again and again. A fourth time. A fifth time. A sixth and seventh time. You felt your legs go out, body hanging limply on the couch as heat pooled in your core, fueled by the pain. Be hit you one last time, watching as your body lurched and you cried out.

"Look at her," he spoke directly to Eris, ignoring you completely as he did. "Fucking soaked from a punishment but has the audacity to cry like she didn't earn this."

Eris hummed, eyes bored, and he picked up his book again. "Silence her then. She knows she isn't allowed to cry over when she's getting punished for her behavior."

Azriel pulled you back by your hair. "Is that what you need? Are cuffs and spanking not enough? Do I need to take your voice too?"

You shook your head. "No, daddy."

Azriel let go of your hair, forcing you to fall back on the couch. You felt him attaching the bar he and Eris liked to use to keep your legs apart to your ankles, forcing you into a wider stance and leaving your dripping cunt exposed. "I do not understand this sudden attitude," he spanked you with his hand. "You know we are both busy males," another spank. "Did you tell him what you did? Did you tell Eris why I ripped you from Rita's?"

You shook your head, "No daddy."

"Look at him," Eris sighed, placing the bookmark you had given him into the book and closed it again. "Tell him what you did."

You felt your eyes watering again as they met his amber eyes. "I let another male touch me."

Silence fell over the room. Eris stood, and Azriel took his place in the chair, leaning forward onto his knees to watch. "How did he touch you?"

"He touched my hips-"

"He touched more than that, angel, tell him where else you let him touch you."

"My stomach, my chest, my-"

"Where on your chest, princess?"

You bit your lip, eyes squeezing shut. "He grabbed my breasts."

Eris landed a smack on your core, jolting your body forward and he held there cupping your sex in his large hand. "Those are mine. Your breasts are mine. This pussy is mine. Did you forget that, princess?"

"No! I-"

"Get the fucking gag. I'm not going to listen to her excuses."

You resisted crying as Azriel gagged you, silencing any apologies you had. He sat next to you, forcing your head into his lap. Eris waited, calculating and deciding his next move. Another wet slap on your core had you moaning. He followed it with a harsh smack on the barely cooled skin Azriel had beaten red. He repeated the motion, watching as your slick built with each smack on your aching over sensitive cunt.

"I bet she'd cum from this alone. Desperate little whore," another slap had your eyes rolling, whimpering and pushing your ass towards Eris with a wiggle. "Look at her. Begging for it like a bitch in heat."

He moved away, grabbing something off the table that had Azriel's eyes sparkling. You felt something cold running along your folds, gathering slick before circling your entrance and pushing in.

That stark contrast between the heat of your skin and the cool glass toy was your undoing after weeks of neglect. You came hard and without permission. Falling over the edge and clenching that toy until you came down from the high.

You heard Azriel chuckle above you, Eris tutting behind you. "And now she cums without permission," Azriel's voice was drawn out. "It seems we need to retrain her. Two weeks is evidently too long for our little girl."

"It would appear so."

You closed your eyes as he pulled the toy out, pushing it back in with a wet squelch. He continued the motion, keeping a slow pace to torture you with as Azriel gripped the garter belt to keep you in place.

It was going to be a long night, and you could not have been happier about it.

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #send asks #send anons #azriel #azriel x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #azris #azris x reader #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader

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t0yac1d · 4 months

Note

IF YOU'RE STILL WRITING FOR JJ MAYBANK COULD I REQUEST LIKE.. A CAMPING SMUT? LIKE OKAY, THE POGUES WENT ON A CAMPING TRIP AND AFTER EVERYONE STARTED TO GO INTO THEIR TENTS THE READER AND JJ ARE TRYING TO STAY QUIET AS THEY YK.. 🤭 AND SHE CAN'T SO HE COVERS HER MOUTH BUT THEN HE'S JS LIKE "Fuck it" BC HE CAN'T STAY QUIET EITHER SO THEY JS GO AT IT??

OHMAMI (JJ Maybank x F!Reader)

Warnings: Smut (duh lmao), p in v, choking, praise

Notes: I'll forever write for our man don't worry about the "ifs" baby

Word Count: 702

It was a quiet night, the only noises that were heard were the sounds of wildlife, the water, and the pouge's heavy and light snores. You guys went swimming, hiked, played volleyball and many other games. Everyone was exhausted after the very active day. Everyone except you and JJ.

You guys have been riled up and horny for hours, just wanting some alone time even just enough for a quickie but how could you get alone time when the whole group just stuck together for the whole day.

But, at last, you guys got your time alone, sadly it's in your shared tent...right next to the group...

On top of the noise of wild life, water and the snores, your soft whines and whimpers were filling the air. You knew you had to be quiet, you wouldn't want to get caught. But it was so hard to when he was hitting every spot that made you want to scream his name until you lose your voice.

But you can't, you can't risk getting caught because of how embarrassing it'll be.

You guys lied on your sides, JJ's hips snapped against your ass his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close against his chest. Your nails dug into his thighs, leaving crescent shapes in the skin. You were trying your hardest to keep quiet, or at least keep the noise low, very low. But it was sooooo hard to.

"Baby you gotta be quiet..do you wanna wake them up?" he asked, rubbing circles on your clit. You shook your head moaning, JJ moved a hand up to your mouth, covering it and muffling your moans. His hips never stopped, instead his pace grew.

Your moans, whimpers and whines were low, quiet- or as quiet as you could keep them.

You felt like you were going to explode, you felt the need to be loud, to let everyone know that JJ was fucking you good. You continued to clench around him, you whimpered against his hand.

"You feel s'good fuck you're sucking me in..fuck!"

You moved his hand from your mouth, "Gotta be quiet r-remember.."

He pulled out and put you on your back, "Yeah..I remember.." he mumbled, lining himself up and pushing himself in with one thrust almost causing you to scream out his name. Your hand flew up to your mouth when he pounded into you.

"Move your hand, I wanna hear you."

"T-They're gonna hear though.." you whined, back arching and legs wrapping around the blonde's waist. "So? Let them, I don't care anymore, please? Please let me hear you." he pleaded.

Hesitantly, you moved your hand from your mouth. JJ smiled and began rubbing on your clit, enticing moans from you.

His hand wrapped around your throat, "Good girl, let them hear these pretty moans."

He stared down at you, wondering why he even told you to keep quiet in the first place. He's such an idiot sometimes.

He felt his cock twitch and his core tighten. Moving his hand from your throat to the empty space next to your head he leaned down. You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close. He kissed, bit and sucked your neck, leaving dark marks on your soft, beautiful skin.

"I'm gonna cum..fuck fuck fuck!" you babbled, tugging on your boyfriend's hair. "I know, baby, I know. Go ahead and cum for me, princess."

Your legs tightened around him as you came. It wasn't long until he came too, gripping your hip and thigh, painting your walls with his cum.

You panted and sighed, feeling him pull out. He leaned back and watched his cum ooze out of your hole. "Weirdo.." you quietly chuckled, closing your legs.

JJ lied on top of you, pulling you close as you two fell asleep.

The next morning you guys got dressed and stepped out the tent. The group sat around the twinkie and ate some breakfast, conversing with one another. "You'd think you guys would keep it down considering we're outside." John B. said. "Shut up man, you know you guys liked it." JJ cackled.

One thing JJ learned is that he's bit of a hypocrite.

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silentium-symphony · 4 months

Text

So This is... Lust (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) ya'll, i finally finished it ToT i'm so sorry for the wait, but it's finally here now! i had so much fun writing this!

i took a look at my schedule for next semester and i have *a lot* of free time, so hopefully that'll mean more time to write and, in extension, finally open up my inbox for requests!!! i've never done requests before at least on this account because i was always so busy. i'm not too sure how much time my new research position will take up (i was told it would be time-consuming, but i'm not sure how time-consuming), so i'll keep you guys updated!

as always, i hope you enjoy this ~steamy~ oneshot! and remember: if you are a minor, do not interact.

cw: afab!retainer!reader, reader wears a dress, link masturbating to the thought of you :), mentioned reader masturbation (like one line), cunnilingus, missionary, mentioned doggy, overstimulation, tried to make link a soft dom heheh, swearing, dirty talk, dumbification, fingering

wc: 6.5k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

"(F/N)?" Zelda slinked her back against her chair, sinking into the worn, plush cushion that coddled her stiff vertebrae.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Please prepare the horses... We're going to take a little walk." She pinched the bridge of her scrunched nose. "If I am to look at these documents a moment longer, I believe my head will explode."

"But Your Highness, Link should be coming any minute now. We must discuss the security details for the upcoming ball." Your usually terse expression softened at the royal's groan. "But we can go out afterwards.”

"Yes, you're right... Apologies (F/N), I completely forgot about that meeting. Will anyone else be coming?"

"No, Your Highness. It will just be—“

Knock knock knock!

"Ah! Perfect timing." Zelda tapped a thick, disheveled pile of documents against her desk into a more manageable bundle. "Come in!"

The brass doorknob shifted slightly and clicked open, revealing Hyrule's most renowned knight. A pair of cobalt eyes went from you to the Princess and he bowed wordlessly.

"Link. Thank you for—“

A loud bang, then wood stuttering against stone, quickly followed by the airy splish of dozens of documents fluttering to the ground. You dove across the desk, grasping a few documents you were lucky enough to catch and watched the rest pool by the table’s legs.

"Oh Hylia—!”

"Your Highness! Are you okay?!" Your hand flew to the staggering princess, documents be damned; Link sprung to Zelda’s side and placed a restful hand on her shoulder.

"I-I'm fine, really...” She muttered, rubbing her sore knee. “Goodness, I'm so sorry for the mess. Let me clea—“

"Absolutely not, Your Highness. I’ll take care of it." You cut, already circling the desk and shuffling the disarrayed documents on the floor. Link joined you on his hands and knees, carefully scooping up piles of paper onto the desk and into your arms. A jolt of electricity shot through your heart as you felt worn leather chafe against your skin. You turned away, 'looking' for other scattered documents, and coughed out,

"Thank you Link, but please don't worry. I can take care of this."

A determined look gripped his features as he stared and shook his head. Without uttering another word, Link once again began gathering the parchment. A soft sigh left you, and an even softer smile graced your lips.

"Can you hand me that document, please? I think these go together... Oh, and... these have matching headings, so I'll take that and you can have those..."

Even in her mildly frazzled state, Zelda wasn't blind to the faint red that whispered the surface of your cheeks when Link got a little too close, or the shifty flash of Link's blues whenever your fingers 'accidentally' grazed his. As much as she wanted to jump in and rectify the mess she made, maybe... She should sit this one out. Enjoy the show. Or better yet... Hm... When was the last time you and Link had a day off?

In no time at all, all correspondence was off the floor and either in your arms or on the desk. Your fingers flew this way and that, reorienting texts right side up and shuffling this paper behind that, and this one goes over here, and wait… Shouldn’t these be bundled together?

"Once again, I apologize for the mess I had created. Thank you both for cleaning it up."

"No worries at all, Your Highness." You finally looked up and cast a warm smile at the knight. "Thank you for helping me, Link."

A bashful grin cracked the stoic man's lips and he awkwardly rocked his feet. All that extra motion certainly drew attention away from the fists tightening behind his back. Zelda cleared her throat and eyed some documents pertinent to the upcoming social.

"Right. Now that that's all settled, let's get down to business."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

"A-Ah... Mmph..."

The knight threw his head back, feeling his temples drum in time with his cock. Sweat dewed his ivory skin and his Adam's apple bobbed a name he dared not utter, lest someone discover the target of his hidden fantasies. A scene from earlier that day has been playing in his head on repeat, fueling the sensual fantasies that has drawn him awake past the midnight hours; his fist thumped faster against his thighs and his back careened toward the ceiling.

You—gorgeous, gorgeous you—bent over a desk grasping desperately for a document fluttering to the ground.

With slight modifications, of course. The hem of your dress pooled about your hips—hips he oh so desperately wished to sink his teeth and fingers in—your hands tied prettily against your lower back as he thrusts into you again and again, his fingers tenderly coaxing your feathery soft hair... But the best part? You looking back at him, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, and his name spilling out of those plump lips he yearned to taste.

He could hardly remember what the Princess had told him. Something about the security details for the upcoming ball, but Hylia only knew if he retained anything past that. All he could think of was you, you, you—the Princess's loyal, respectful, diligent, beautiful retainer. How he craved your presence! If only you knew how much he liked you! Oh, the things he dreamt of doing to you.

"Ngh... (F-F/N)...!"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The garbled talk of Hyrule's high society bounced off the castle walls and the guards' helms, which flickered bright flashes of torchlight. A pair of cobalt eyes flitted about every corner of the room, filing away mental notes of the ball's invitees and the stream of people that flowed in and out of the ballroom. Link scooted along the wall—weaving around young, giggly wallflowers and decrepit, lonely barons in search of another wife—always making sure you the Princess stood in his line of sight.

After sending you away to drop off another gift at the crowded gift table, Zelda turned around with the polite smile most nobility had during these sizeable socials. She caught eyes with her loyal guard and slowly made her way over, skillfully avoiding conversation with the withdrawn, mysterious grace of a royal. Eventually, she found herself at the side of one of her most trusted confidantes.

"Link, I believe the next song shall be a waltz. Do you still remember how to dance?"

Link nodded dutifully, sensing an incoming question. Is Her Highness hinting that she wants him to ask her to dance...?

"If so, why not dance with (F/N)?"

Link, who happened to be swallowing his spit as she said that, hacked it all back up and proceeded to draw the most distressing and deprecating attention an introvert could draw to themselves in a single night. He turned to her, lovestruck panic evident in his eyes, and shook his head like a wet, storm-logged puppy.

"Now now, don't be shy! I'm sure she'd be happy to share a dance with you."

"Your Highness! There you are." A bright voice from yonder drew closer to the duo, and Link could feel himself shrinking. "I've been looking all over for you. Why are you all the way over here? Have you grown tired?"

The torpid, repetitive chords that most patrons had droned out this part in the night livened into a steady waltz. Link could feel Zelda's smirk and knowing gaze burn into the side of his head.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, but I assure you I'm fine. I just wanted to have a little chat with Link. But (F/N), you should dance! Enjoy yourself! You've been working far too hard these days."

"Thank you for your concern, but I would feel better if I were attending you."

"(F/N), don't be like that." She squeezed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I'm saying this more as a friend than your queen. Please go have some fun. Maybe you'll meet your Prince Charming, just as you've always hoped you would.“

"Zel—Princess!" Your heart dropped to your stomach and a pair of hands immediately flew to cage Zelda's arms. "T-That was so long ago—I mean, I was only a little girl and—!"

A genuine, lighthearted laugh alighted your friend and she gazed at you with a sisterly fondness.

"Just teasing. It's always so fun to do so."

"Your Highness..." Your head hung as low as your spirits as you felt Zelda's frame shake from a stifled laughter.

"Your Highness?" All eyes turned to the clear, bold voice a few bodies past you. "Can I have this dance?"

The young suitor flashed a kind, dimpled beam as he held out a gloved hand to Zelda. The royal returned her own practiced, elegant smile and took his hand.

"I would be honored." She turned to you. "My apologies. I'm afraid I must go. But do have fun tonight, okay? You deserve it."

And with a swish of her gown, she was escorted through a parted sea of people to the middle of the dance floor. She locked eyes with you for a second, and cast a knowing tilt towards him.

You two were locked in a domain of stiff silence, both looking helplessly towards your mutual friend who had seemingly forgotten all about you. Link's timbers began shivering like no other as he replayed a thousand ways this night could go.

Freeing himself of his chains of self-doubt, he pushed himself off the wall and slowly made the short way over. Your heart had practically stopped pulsing while Link's was pounding away all breath from his lungs. He felt a sickly pallor drain his cheeks; he silently thanked the gods for the bright lights that filled his cheeks with artificial ruddiness.

"(F/N)...?" You turned, your thundering heart almost drowning out the Hero's squeak. "Can I have this dance?"

Pure, unadulterated sincerity crinkled Link's eyes, which held a certain life-like sheen typically absent for the soldier; for the briefest of moments, you felt that you were allowed a glimpse into his heart. Fighting the urge to scream 'til your lungs gave out was the understatement of the century as you dipped your fingers into his palm.

"I would be honored."

The small, anxious smile widened into one of pure delight as he led you further into the ballroom. He pulled you into the fringes of the waltzing couples and placed a steady palm close to your shoulder blades, inadvertently pressing you closer to him. Clothed fingers weaved through your own and pulled your hand away from your trembling frame. You could only hope he couldn't feel the aggressive thumping in your chest.

"Are you okay?" His voice rumbled in your ear.

"Y-Yes!" You blurted suddenly, your nerves not quite heeding your volume. You were practically melting from the stinging, judgemental stares thrown your way and you swallowed thickly.

"Yes, I'm okay. Thank you for your concern."

"We don't have to do this for very long if you don't want to." He muttered, his hand slipping to your waist as he dipped you. Your delusions led you to believe that his eyes lingered on your neck a moment too long... But surely your eyes were just playing tricks on you.

"It's just... Well, I'm rather nervous, so..."

You slowly turned your gaze upwards, peering through quivering lashes and fully expecting the knight's visage to be contorted in mockery; you were pleasantly surprised that his eyes held nothing but warmth for you.

"I understand." He effortlessly guided your next movements into a spin. "How can I help you feel more at ease?"

"Mm..." You unknowingly gave his shoulder a light squeeze, causing Link's heart to flutter. "Would it be all right if we talked some more?"

"Of course. What would you like to talk about?"

"Well... I've actually always wondered this, but have you always wanted to become a knight?"

"Hm... That's a good question." He chuckled, his hot breath tickling your cheekbones. "I wasn't particularly against it. As you may know, I come from a long line of knights, so it was only expected that I became a knight too."

"How did it feel when you found out you bore the legendary Triorce?"

"... Surreal." He concluded, a glimpse of wistfulness in his eyes. "My life hasn't been the same since."

"Oh... I'm sorry if this brought up difficult memories."

"Not at all!" His tired eyes snapped to life. "Yes, training became much harder after that and the pressures of the throne are very much there… But it wasn't all that bad. After all, I got to meet you—“

At the utterance of the last syllable, Link's face twisted into horror; not even the bright, warm lights could disguise his drained cheeks. You felt your entire face engulf in flames and screamed your heart out smiled shyly.

"That's... really sweet of you, Link. Thank you."

He cleared his throat and desperately wished for a Link-size hole to swallow him up this very second. Every gear in his brain cogged away as he chose his next words carefully.

"You and the Princess seem close."

"Yes..." A bittersweet comfort gripped your heart as deeply cherished memories flashed through your mind. "We were girls together."

"How long have you been her retainer?"

"Since we were very young. Like you, I come from a long line of individuals who serve the royal family and, well... Zel and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember."

"'Zel?'"

"O-Oh!" Panicked side glances jittered here and there; you let out a deep breath, thankful that no one heard your insubordinate casualness. "Please forgive me. That was a nickname I used to call Her Highness."

"No worries. I just... thought it was very cute."

The both of you were completely oblivious to the crimson that coated the other's cheeks—how could you be when your own face ran hotter than the lava at Death Mountain? You were startled out of your mushy haze with a bright, chime-like laugh.

"Her Highness was right. You are fun to tease."

Before you could retort some type of response, the ensemble played its final note. While all the other couples were separating and bowing to their dance partners, Link was quite slow to release you, and you were even slower to leave his arms.

"Thank you for the dance, Link. You are a wonderful dance partner."

"Likewise," he straightened his back, "I hope we can do this again."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Gods, you wanted to go to bed.

Your nice, warm sheets were all you could think of as you clicked the door to the Princess's bed chambers shut. You threw your arms above your head and groaned out the tension that had carved its way into your joints.

Your feet automatically led you down the long winding corridor, past the soldier's quarters and towards your—

"Mm... F-Fuck..."

Wait a damn minute.

Your feet ceased their dragging as a voice that sounded eerily similar to a certain Hero echoed nearby. You gripped your chest, as if that would quiet the thundering pounding in your ears.

… Silence...

Were you losing your mind?

Chalking whatever... that was to your perverted imagination, you once again began your trek towards—

"Ah...!"

—Link's room wait since when did you start moving in this direction oh gods oh Hylia

"Mmph! Fuck- yes- hah..."

The noises were undoubtedly coming from his room, your ear pressed against the door confirmed that. Your hand flew to your mouth as your knees locked in place, your ears feasting listening to the sinful whimpers and pants of Hyrule's sword and shield. You were thrown into the deep end, drowning in a cacophony of your own thoughts.

What the fuck holy shit what the fuck holy shit what the fu Was he alone? Wait, but the bed squeaked just now, so does that mean he’s with someone? And if so, who? But if he's alone... Who could he be thinking of?

This was wrong. This was so, so wrong of you to be violating his privacy like this. You would be mortified to learn that someone was listening to you pleasuring yourself—everyone's entitled to have these moments to themselves. So why couldn't you just... walk away?

"Mm... Oh, (F/N)..."

... Huh?

“I need you I need you I need you…” He slurred with sloppy breaths. Shame swelled within you as a wet heat pooled between your legs and wickedly delightful thoughts ruminated in your mind. Your chest constricted, sensing the crossroads that would undoubtedly decide your future relations with your long-time crush; you toyed with either option as carefully as your lust-hazed brain would allow. With your heart mere moments away from seizing, you carefully lifted your hand, suddenly aware of every muscle needed to execute the simple motion.

Four docile raps lisped the wood. You froze, the veil of sensuality finally lifted from your senses as the gravity of the situation bucketed you like cold water. Oh gods, what have you done? Your heart raged against your ribcage and beckoned you to flee! Run! There’s still time, go!

A quiet click.

A pair of blown-out pupils amidst a thin strip of blue peered out at you.

“L-… Link?”

“… Yes?”

You listlessly felt yourself move forward; sex-clung darkness draped over your bodies as you pushed yourself through the door, slamming your lips against his in heated desperation. Link returned your fervor with a fluidity that made you wonder if he’s fantasized about this as much as you have. You cocked your heel against the door, shutting out all unwanted light to carry out your feral desires in the dark.

He pressed you against the thin slab of wood, rough hands claiming residence in the plush of your hips while his lips conveyed a primal urge to claim. You didn’t hesitate in welcoming his tongue, feeling the hot muscle drag against your bottom lip and wrapping itself with your own in a sloppy but passionate dance. Thick golden locks tangled your fingers and you pulled him closer, closer, closer until his muscly frame was melded into yours.

He departed from your lips and quickly found refuge in the crook of your neck. His hot breaths dragged across your flushed skin, sending an anticipatory chill down your spine as he speckled your softness with nips and butterfly kisses. Large hands explored what they could, never settling in one place for long while his lips began imprinting deeply-colored marks by the junction of your neck and shoulder. His grabs and kneads were desperate, as if he fully believed that at any moment you would depart from him forever, leaving him with a ghost of what could have been.

Your chest heaved into his. Colors you’ve never seen before danced before your eyelids in a pandemoniac parade while hellish flames seared through your core. Link lapped and kissed and teethed your neck, relishing in the bit-back mewls that occasionally leaked out of you. The moonbeams that had passed through the clouds applauded the red desire he worked into your skin and Link felt a surge of boldness rush through him. After speckling your rising and dipping chest with his spit, he dropped lower and lower.

The cold absence of his hands didn’t go unnoticed by you, and before you could process what was going on, the unfamiliar cold that whipped your exposed legs pinched a yelp out of you. In one smooth motion, the Hero of Hyrule was under your dress and kissing the pillowy softness of your thighs—as he always dreamt of doing—silently worshipping Hylia’s masterpiece.

And oh, how he worshipped you. How each fiery, wet kiss was a prayer of gratitude to the goddess for creating someone like you. How every bite, every mark he left you with was all in the name of you, his true deity, and your moans that served as his gospel. By the end of the night, he was determined to have you chanting his name like some mantra that would bind you two past a one night stand.

Your heart roared in your ears, anticipation for where his lips would fondle next nearly causing the overworked muscle to implode; your legs nearly gave out when you felt his teeth graze the edge of your drenched panties. The lace dragged and coiled into a thin strip as Link buried his face into your sex, relishing the ambrosia he was to partake in. Before that though, his lips traced a languid line to your hips, which was promptly suckled and bitten with the gentleness of a doe. His fingers hooked themselves under your panties and, with painfully slow movements, dragged the nuisance down your hips, your thighs, and finally, the ground. With all obstacles out of the way, Link turned his attention back to your throbbing lips, licking his own with the hunger of a starved animal.

He wasted no time in burrowing himself into you, tonguing and lapping the juices that have dared to slip out and refusing to waste a single drop. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he completely lost himself in you, rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb while drinking up whatever you could give him with his mouth. You bunched the noisome fabric about your waist, desperate to sink your fingers into his hair. He chuckled at your slightly buckling knees, and a wonderful idea flashed through his head.

He threw one of your legs atop his shoulder, and his heart nearly gave out from the sheer joy of seeing you spread like this. The new position allowed him deeper access into you, and a lone finger soon replaced his tongue’s sinful ministrations as the latter wrapped and toyed with your puffed-up bud. A full moan lapsed out of you in earnest and you unknowingly tightened around his digit. Link’s cock tented painfully against his pants, but he was set on having you cumming all over his face before he even thought about touching himself.

One of your hands anchored itself in his hair, knotting his disheveled locks into messy bunches that only grew wilder the faster he went. Uneven, haggard breaths and pleas for more echoed off his walls and Link had never been more pleased to carry out a request. His fingers and tongue would take turns wrecking you, never giving your poor clit and drenched entrance a break as he tongue-fucked and fingered you closer and closer to blissful oblivion. Link knew the milky white end was in sight, and he eagerly pressed his tongue flat against your cunt.

“Cum for me… Fuck, give it to me. I need you to cum in my mouth…”

His filthy request buzzed mind-shattering tingles to the deepest parts of your core, finally tipping you over the edge. You fell from a high you’ve never experienced before and your orgasm was borderline violent. A silent scream left your gaped mouth and you collapsed, panting, quivering. Link’s heart and ego swelled at your blissed out face as he leisurely wiped the juices dribbling down his chin. He scooted closer to you and pressed a deep kiss against your lips, leaving traces of you in your mouth. He pulled away with a pop, a smile, and an effortless huff as he carried you to his bed.

You were still fighting to regain some semblance of normal breathing when he set you down on his sheets. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and pulled away, taking a moment to relish in how you looked in your sensual vulnerability. His pulse quickened and his pants tightened further, eager for release, but Link was patient. He waited for your breathing to slow, caressing your cheeks and cooing praises into your ears. His tenderness was enough to almost lull you to sleep.

“(F/N)…” Adoration dripped from his tone. “Can we go further?”

You opened your eyes slightly and practically melted from the gentleness in his voice and the care in his eyes. With a soft, albeit tired smile, you nodded and traced small circles into his cheek. Puppy-like enthusiasm exuded off him and he kissed the tip of your nose, plucking a small giggle out of you.

“Just relax… I’ll take care of you.”

He worked the hem of your dress into a bulky bunch by your hips before throwing the whole thing over your head and gently discarding it on the floor. A soft, wonder-filled smile cracked his lips as he drank in all of you.

“You look beautiful… You are beautiful…” He murmured to the air, voicing his most private thoughts aloud. A slightly pruned finger traced down your sides. A shiver ran through your body and his name whimpered out of your mouth.

“Say it again.” He breathed shakily. “My name. Say it again.”

“Link…” You flushed under his piercing gaze. His expression flickered darkly for just a moment before his eyes crinkled warmly.

“You have the prettiest voice, you know that?” He nuzzled into your neck. “I can listen to you for hours.”

“Link…” You cradled his face in your palms. “You don’t… have to hold back. I’ll let you know if anything hurts.”

His eyes widened before a small chuckle left him.

“We’ll get there eventually, I promise. For now though…” His lips coupled with yours in tender obsession. “I want to make you feel good tonight.”

While his lips reunited with your own, his fingertip traced lazy patterns from your chest, down to your stomach with swirly circles, and finally in between your legs. He moved his hands with battle-hardened precision, skirting around your still-pulsing clit, being extra careful not to overstimulate you yet. The simple trail coaxed the neediest whine out of you and you jutted your hips up and down, side to side. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

“Eager, are we?” He purred, skimming the surface of his lips on your cheek before redirecting his efforts towards your nipples.

"Gods, look at you... You're so beautiful all spread out like this, just for me." His tongue swirled and sucked the perked bud while your other nipple rolled in between his thumb and index. He dragged the tip of his tongue from one nipple to the other, repeating the process again and again until he was satisfied with the glistening rawness. A long moan, honeyed with need and fringed with desire, escaped you as your back arched in toe-curling pleasure.

His fingers hastened their movements, circling the hardened pearl with calloused finger pads and teasing your slit, sometimes dipping the beginnings of a finger past its entrance. But it was never enough. Never, ever enough. Your pleas and cries and begging only sent Link further down this power trip, molding your sex-steeped senses however he wanted until you were a sobbing, hiccuping mess.

“Please Link…” You sputtered in between sobs, the knot in your gut constricting and loosening in sync with his tease. “I need you inside, please, please, please…”

“Shh…” He murmured, silencing your chants with a soft kiss. “Patience.”

“Link, please, I-I can’t—“

“Yes you can. Just a little more… Show me more of those lewd expressions.” A rough pinch on your clit scored a scream out of you and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Good girl… So pretty for me. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Gods, yes! I’m all yours Link, so please—“

Your voice sputtered to a stop, caught in edged ecstasy as the friction you had been craving for for the past Hylia-knows-how-long was suddenly served at blinding speeds.

“This is what you wanted, right?” He cooed, his chill tone contrasting the growing flush in his cheeks. You squirmed and writhed uselessly under him as your mind blanked and reeled from the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

“T-Too fa— Link, you’re—! I’m—!”

You were practically catapulted into your next orgasm, but despite your shaking release, Link never let up—in fact, he picked up his pace until veins marbled the surface of his arms. Another orgasm was ripped out of you, then another, and another, all while Link whispered,

"Oh, sweet girl, I know you can do it. I know you can cum one more time... Just one more, c'mon..."

Nothing else mattered to you at that moment. Nothing in the world could pull you out of the ecstasy Link had so readily given you. The only sensations you were capable of feeling were the coiling and spasming release of your gut as the man before you worked you into a mindless little thing. Link’s heart swelled at the fucked-out, dazed look on your face and he finally released his cock from its clothed prison.

"Do I have permission to fuck you senseless?" He husked into your ear, tending to his weeping cock with the residual slick left on his fingers. You nodded your head vigorously, dumbed down to your most base desires.

He slotted himself in between your legs, rubbing and dipping his tip a little bit past your entrance before his patience snapped in time with his hips. A gaspy whine rasped out of both of you, thickening to sweet, candied moans for more.

You were so tight… So warm... So wet… He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing—a concentrated attempt to not just immediately cum on the spot. Link stretching you out choked a groan out of you and your arms clung tightly about his neck, clawing desperate lines into his back.

"Gods, you feel so good... So tight for me... You're just made for me, aren't you? Made to take my cock..."

His fingers doled soft dips into your hips, coaxing the tight muscles into releasing their tension. All you could do was nod fervently, your voice too hoarse and mind too fogged to formulate any words. Link pervaded every single one of your thoughts, and all you could really muster was a gaze into his darkened blues, glazed over with lust. It took every ounce of mental fortitude to keep Link from pounding you into his bed; he softly kissed away the tears that threatened to spill.

"I'm gonna start moving now... Are you ready?"

A nod; Link positioned himself until your noses were almost touching, braced his hands on either side of your head, and slowly rocked his hips. The simple, fluid motion ellicited a moan out of the man and a whine out of you, electric pleasure shocking you to your core. His watchful gaze gauged your reactions, your comfort always at the forefront of his mind.

He flooded you with kisses and deluged your senses in heartfelt tenderness. Your head rolled into his arm, nuzzling him, and he smiled softly.

"You're so cute... My heart just explodes whenever I see you..."

"Liiink..." You reached up to caress his cheek. He pressed further into your hand before turning his head and kissing your fingers.

"You're perfect. Everything about you is gorgeous." He breathed, his hips slipping into a racy tempo. Your breasts pooled and trembled with each thrust, which didn't go unnoticed by the starved knight. Sounds of wet suckling filled his room, accompanied by your airy mewls and calls for his name.

"Say my name..." He growled into your chest, eyes flitting to look at you through quivering lashes. "Say it again."

"Link..." You squeaked, hiding the lower half of your burning face behind trembling hands.

"Louder." A hand clutched your wrists and dragged them down, fully exposing your slutty expressions to his hawkish eyes.

"Link...!"

"Louder." He scurried to the crook of your neck and bit down. "I want everyone in this castle to know who's fucking you breathless."

"L-Link!"

His pace quickened, the steady rhythm degenerating into wild pistoning. Shaky, uneven breaths stretched into high-pitched whimpers while his hand fondled your abused clit, repeating the circling motion that had you seeing stars several minutes (hours?) ago. His lips traced the shell of your ear, your jaw, down your neck, and finally your lips. Again and again, his mouth met yours in messy passion, each kiss more crazed than the last. He pulled away just enough to see your sloppy expressions, a thin strand of spit connecting your moistened tongues.

"Can you cum for me one more time? Just one more, I promise."

"I can't, I can't—Link, I'll die—“

"No you won't, love." He crooned. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, just in time to see stars exploding into a symphony of colors. "Just one more. I know you can do it."

Your face scrunched in response to the nearing summit, the precipice that you had been thrown over more times than you could count. You could feel your core spasming and knotting and folding in on itself; Link was totally immersed, body and soul, in your essence as he neared his own powerful climax.

"You're all mine." He panted, his hips accentuating each word with increasing ferocity. "Mine, mine, mine."

A tremor unlike anything you've ever felt before rattled your bones. A voice unrecognizable to you called for Link as you released all over his twitching cock and sheets. Your violent clenching rocketed Link to cloud nine, who pulled out just in time to cover you with thick, white ribbons. His warmth splattered onto your thighs, your stomach, your chest—all of which still tingled from his earlier acts.

His quaking frame crumbled, landing squarely on top of you. Your breaths hitched and mixed with each other, and a satiated silence enveloped the room. Once Link had mostly recovered, he heaved himself off of you and draped a lazy arm over your spent form.

"Are you okay?" He rasped, smoothing the sweaty nest that your hair had become. "Let me clean you up."

You tried to lift an arm—a finger even—to assure Link that you were okay but gods if you had to exert any more effort you were certain you would disintegrate. Link swung his legs over the bed, tripped into his boxers, and hobbled over to a pitcher sitting on his desk. The clear sounds of liquid life flowing into a bowl were like music to your ringing, pulsing ears.

In just a few moments he was by your side, bowl, towels, and cups in hand. You tried to sit up, but the bed stuck to your back like a bond that could not be broken. The rough cloth gingerly wiped away Link's earlier messes, and he dipped the other towel in the bowl before patting your face with the same degree of care. The cool water against your flushed skin sent pleasant jolts through your body.

"How are you feeling?" He asked again, pressing his palm into your cheek and pulling you up to drink. "Are you hurt anywhere? Was I too rough?"

You took the most refreshing swig of water in your life, feeling your parched throat soften enough for use.

"I'm okay, Link." You croaked at last. How long had it been since you last spoke coherent sentences? "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Of course." His warm smile alighted butterflies in your stomach; however, his features faltered slightly and his eyes turned downcast. "I, um..."

Quiet hesitance warbled his voice into a gut-wrenching tune; you gently cupped his hands, running your thumbs over each scar as you steadily held his gaze.

"I don't want this to be a one-time thing, I want..." He sucked in a quivering breath. "To be with you."

A kiss, soft and sweet, silenced all the doubt pounding away in his chest. Your lips moved purposefully, taking time to convey all the pent-up feelings that had been swirling inside you for so long. You dangled your arms behind his neck as you pulled away, your eyes fluttering open to meet his blown-out pupils.

"I want to be with you too."

Relief unfurrowed his brows and relaxed his jaw.

"Really...?"

"Yes! Though to be honest, I've always pictured our first few moments together as a couple in a more... innocent setting." You gestured to... everything and Link's belly flexed in laughter.

"So did I. But gods..." His lips ghosted the curve of your shoulder, traveling up your neck, and ending at your ear. "You felt so good, (F/N)..."

"L-Link..." You whimpered, your body lowering back down while your now-lover towered above you. Without warning, an arm snaked under your knees and the other wrapped behind your back. With a yelp, you spilled into his arms and two towels fell into your lap.

"The baths are just around the corner." A soft warmth bloomed on the center of your forehead. "Let's get cleaned up, shall we?"

♤♢ ~ bonus scene ~ ♡♧

"Your Highness, are you sure about—?"

"Yes, yes! I've already got it all figured out. All you have to do is pack your things and go!" Zelda shoved two official-looking documents into your arms and scooted you and Link closer to the door. Your dug heels were no match for the princess's sudden prowess.

And what could those documents possibly be?

Why, records of a cabin rental in Faron Woods, of course!

"B-But what about Link? He's your personal knight, after all."

"I've already arranged security details with one of the squadrons. They will be watching over me until you both get back. In regards to who will be overseeing your duties, I have a few staff members who will help me keep track of everything."

"Your Highness—"

"It's decided!" Zelda exclaimed with more effort, her energy sapped from lugging two unwilling bodies. "You both have been working so hard, so I've been thinking about giving you a weekend off for awhile. Now that you're a couple, this is a perfect chance to have your own little romantic getaway!"

"Wait, Princess Zelda..." Link started slowly, the gears in his head churning away. "It says here there’s only one bed. If you didn't know we were a couple until now... Why did you prepare a cabin with a single bed for the two of us?"

"That...!" Though your back was toward the royal, you could clearly see the 'oh shit' expression on her face. The corner of Link's mouth twitched into an amused smile while your cheeks scarleted.

"Zel, I swear to Hylia, I'm—"

"—gonna have a wonderful time in the woods where you can be as loud as you want. Farewell, and safe travels!"

With one last push, Zelda managed to shove the two of you out of her office before a resounding slam sounded the finality of her decision. But Zelda's closing remarks hung in the air, thickening the atmosphere in blood-chilling realization.

"What's wrong?" Link's sing-song voice mismatched the gravity of of the situation.

"Oh gods... Oh gods oh gods oh gods... How many people do you think heard us last night?"

"Enough for the whole castle to know who fucked you breathless." His face lowered until you were eye-level with his mischievous simper.

"Link!"

"Her Highness was right—you are fun to tease."

"LINK!!!"

#link #link x you #link x reader #link x reader smut #loz link #loz link smut #loz link x reader #link legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda fanfiction #loz smut #legend of zelda smut #legend of zelda

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plutoswritingplanet · 13 days

Text

Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader) pt. 2

a/n: this one's a bit shorter, next one will have smut, i am so fcking sleepy writing this i'll have to check tomorrow it this isn't a hallucination

Warnings: Horny Violence, Blood and Guts, Suggestive Themes, we're on a steady route to pound town

Summary: Cooper catches his prize, but an uninvited guest puts a strain on an already rocky relationship. Cross-Posted on AO3

PT. 1

You must be a Vault Dweller. Truly. There is no other way to explain the utter lack of self-preservation skills.

Cooper finds you almost immediately after the sun sets. He can see the flickering light of your small bonfire through the trees, and languidly, he stalks forwards, opting to stay in the shadows to observe you a moment longer.

You're sitting on the ground, back leaning against a destroyed carcass of a plane. Hair pushed out of your face, Cooper can see the flames illuminating your focused expression with warm light. Once again, he's struck by this seemingly regal air around you. Like you've been raised in a castle, far from this fucked up place, that is now his home. A princess, stuck in harsh reality. Eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip tucked hard between your teeth, you seem to be pondering over something.

With quick motions, you take your messenger bag, opening it and dumping its contents onto the ground in front of you. It's somewhat hard to see, but the sound of small glass bottles knocking into each other is telling enough.

Taking stock of your inventory, you begin to tuck everything back into the bag. Chems upon chems, RadAway, RadX, quite the little drug library, and Cooper's eyes immediately lock onto his most sought after, amber liquid. Why would a Smoothie like you need any of that stuff is beyond him. He hasn't seen any Ghouls in the small town you hail from.

Perks of the job, he thinks to himself, as you stack away at least five vials.

At the last bottle, you hesitate, bringing it up towards the light, and looking at it with a worried expression. The liquid swirls inside, and Cooper watches from the shadows, as you press the cold glass against your forehead in a motion eerily reminding him of a prayer. Your shoulders shudder, and Cooper's mangled ears strain, as he sees your mouth move.

- Let me be brave - you whisper to the vial, like some ancient spell, and something new tightens in his chest, something he immediately brushes away.

Then, he sees you lift a very familiar piece of equipment, putting it on your wrist, and begin to tweak something in the controls. A Pip-Boy. Old and battered, but apparently still working. All his confusing feelings are wiped clean in an instant. Now, he's truly intrigued. The clasps seem slightly too big for your hand, and the device slides the length of your arm, as you move.

You sigh, heavily, then press something, and the Geiger meter clicks to life, picking up on stray radiation. Cooper feels his muscles tense, knowing all too well, why the device has activated so rapidly. As a Ghoul, he leaves a trail of radiation, that follows him wherever he goes. He wasn't particularly aware, that a Pip-Boy could pick up on it, but he wasn't surprised either.

The sound makes you freeze in your spot. Slowly, you scan the area, your hand extended towards the darkening outline of the surrounding trees. As your hand passes by the place Cooper has chosen as his hiding spot, the meter grows louder.

Jumping to your feet, you raise the blasted thing in front of you, your other hand tugging at the waistband of your skirt, freeing your trusted kitchen knife. As if to double-check, you put your hand somewhere to the back, listening to the quiet cracking noise.

You can't fully confirm your suspicions on time, as Cooper springs to action.

A thick line of rope falls over your shoulders, and before you have the chance to react, the loop around you tightens. Your entire body is tugged with surprising force in the direction of the treeline. Loosing your footing, you collapse onto the damp forest floor, chin scraping in the process. The yelp of shock tearing out of your throat, rings through the surrounding area, before you literally, eat dirt. The force of the impact wrenches the knife from your hand, as it bends at an uncomfortable angle. The weapon lands somewhere in the grass, the blade reflecting the flames.

Wiggling like a worm, trying to free yourself from the bounds, you notice a pair of well-worn shoes entering your vision. They cross the remaining distance, stopping just short of your head. Knees crack as your attacker squats down, before taking your hair into a hard grip and lifting your head from the dirt.

Your face twists in pain, neck craning uncomfortably, and with an overwhelming feeling of finality, your eyes land onto the face of a ghoul. The Ghoul. He turns his head slightly to the side with the meanes of grins, before letting go of your hair, your head falling back into the dirt.

- Oh, motherfucker - you groan, pulling your legs up, and attempting to get up.

- Stay down - the Ghoul's voice is rough and biting, and sudden pressure on your back pins you to the ground. - Do you know how fuckin' stupid it is, to light a fire in the wilderness? Any unsightly character could pick you off in seconds.

Spitting out stray clumps of earth and grass from your mouth, you scoff at his scolding tone.

- Thankfully, there are no unsightly characters here, huh?

- Oh, I wouldn't say that, sweetheart. - the bounty hunter tugs the toe of his shoe under your side, and kicks up, turning your body.

You roll onto your back, throwing a nasty look at the Ghoul, as he secures the loop of his lasso. His eyes reflect the light in the most haunting of ways, and you squirm under his gaze, which drags itself across your body, stopping briefly at the tips of your breasts, peaking from under your shirt. Swallowing thickly, your muscles relax, in hopes of loosening the rope. It barely gives, but your limbs recover some wiggle room.

Cooper blinks, his head jerking to the side, and only as he brings his hand up, do you register the gun in his hand. Making sure you can see it, he turns towards your messenger bag, grabbing it from the ground where you left it.

He sits down, somewhere outside your field of vision, and you risk pulling yourself up into a sitting position. He doesn't seem to mind it now, too busy with rummaging through your belongings. Finally, he pulls out a vial of amber liquid, watching it swirl in the flickering light of the bonfire.

- Now - Cooper starts, as he grabs the inhaler from his pocket, inserting the vial into it - Why would a backwoods healer have something like this on 'er?

Rolling your shoulders ever so slightly, the rope slides further down your arms, and you regard the Ghoul with a venomous rendition of a "are you fucking dumb?" look. Which he doesn't appreciate. His hands tremble, as he closes his mouth over the inhaler, taking a long hit, draining the entire vial. You try very hard, not to notice the low moan flowing out of him, as the drug enters his system. Or the way his eyes flutter blissfully for just a second.

- You never know, who might be needing help... - you mutter, wincing at the biting pain in your limbs.

- Well ain't that considerate of you - he coughs into his gloved hand, before sighing deeply, his head reclining back against the plane's exterior, his eyes closed.

From where you're sitting, he looks weirdly handsome. Rugged and very much Ghoul-like, but handsome nonetheless. The skin of his neck is pulled taunt, and in the flickering light of a dying bonfire, you can see a myriad of scars, littering any surface of his skin that's visible. Still, there were other matters at hand, that needed your attention, and you try to shift in your seat as quietly as possible, slowly but surely sliding the rope down your body.

- Next time you try to run away, I'll shoot you - your efforts are stilled by his warning tone, and by the way he waves his gun at you, you know he'll make good on this promise.

- Thought you needed me in good condition.

To that, he finally throws you a look from under his cowboy hat.

- Good... - he confirms, his other hand slowly shortening the length of the rope connecting the both of you - Ain't the same as mint.

The loop suddenly digs further into your flesh, and you grunt at the uncomfortable feeling of the rough rope scratching at your exposed upper arms.

Unfortunately, he's right. During your time as the local healer, you've done many questionable things to ensure the well-being of the town. One of those things, was dealing with organ harvesters. You've only bought a limb or a finger, every once in a while, as if that was some consolation for your darkened soul. Those moments quickly taught you, that something being good was most certainly not the same as ideal. Or mint, as your captor has supplied.

- You a Vault-Dweller? - the Ghoul finally asks, breaking the small spell of silence between you.

The question doesn't surprise you, and you lift the Pip-Boy as far up, as the lasso allows you. Which isn't a lot.

- Nah - the flames dance on your suddenly melancholic expression, and Cooper drinks it all up, curiosity spiking with each new information - My mother was. She ran away from her Vault when she was a teenager and joined the Brotherhood soon after.

- The Brotherhood doesn't recruit women - Cooper turns his body towards you, fishing for lies like a shark sniffing for blood.

- Oh, it doesn't? - your lips pull back into a teasing smile, which perhaps isn't the smartest thing to do, but entertainment is scarce in the Wastelands, and you're determined to have some fun - She posed as a man for years, picked up a job as a medic.

Cooper hums to himself, inviting you to elaborate with an inclination of his head.

- There, she met my father - you continue, looking over at the last glowing embers of the bonfire - They were discovered, court martialed for treason. They escaped together and had me somewhere along the way.

Your Pip-Boy still cracks, the radiation emanating from the Ghoul making the Geiger meter go haywire. With soft eyes, your hand traces the outline of the screen, watching the way green light dances on your fingers.

- The forbidden love of the Wasteland - you sigh into the silence - Sounds like a title of some romance novel, no?

- Or a bad porno - Cooper grumbles, rolling his eyes.

- What's a porno?

His head snaps towards you in record speed, a myriad of emotions running through his mangled expression. It settles on deep annoyance, when he notices the sly smirk on your lips, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing.

- Gotcha - your attempt at finger guns is pathetic at best.

- Oh, you think you're a fucking comedian, huh? - the bounty hunter asks, a slight amused tint to his words, which you consider to be a small victory.

- That's why they put a bounty on me - you giggle - I'm too damned funny.

- Shut it.

The sudden change in his tone catches you off guard, and you cock an eyebrow at him, confused. The Ghoul looks much more tense than seconds ago, his hand tightening around his gun. One of his legs kicks up a pile of dirt, smothering the dying embers of the bonfire, as he leans forward, seemingly ready to jump.

- Had I known you were such a buzz kill...-

You're not allowed to finish, as the Ghoul basically throws himself in your direction. Your yelp is cut short with a piece of flimsy cloth being shoved into your mouth. A series of muffled sounds, vaguely resembling "is this my robe?" escape you, and the Ghoul pushed against your head, until you fall back down onto the ground.

His body is hot against yours, as he covers you entirely with his weight. It's quite difficult to breathe through the makeshift gag and the overwhelming scent of blood, gunpowder, and the sickly sweet undertone of rot. As well as the unfamiliar feeling of having someone so close. You were a hermit after all.

- I said, shut the fuck up - he whispers harshly into your ear, and you shiver underneath him, as his chest rises and falls against your back.

Then, a sound somewhere close to the forest line makes your head whip in its direction. Cracking of twigs and heavy footsteps, coming closer and closer with clear determination.

- Healer? - your entire body stiffens, as a familiar voice rings out through the trees. - Are you alright, Healer?

Benny. The same Benny, which led this damned bounty hunter right to your doorstep is currently making his merry way towards the both of you. Your eyes follow the way the Ghoul's thumb loads the pistol with a click of finality, and suddenly new energy floods your system.

- Stop fucking moving - Cooper grounds down on his teeth, as you attempt to free yourself from both his grip, and the lasso's.

Images of Benny, bloodied and dead, flash through your mind, and despite your lack of any sympathy towards the man, you don't want to see it. So, you start to move again, violently shaking under the Ghoul, forcing the lasso to slide from your body. Your hips jerk from the ground, bucking into him like a wild animal, and somewhere behind your ear, you can hear him suck in a sharp breath. Which you have no time to dwell upon. Your tongue fights against the fabric of your robe, and after a second you're able to spit it out.

- Don't shoot him - you plead feverishly, hands gripping the Ghoul's forearm - I'll talk to him, he'll leave. Just don't shoot him, please.

Cooper looks down at you, his eyes hard on your face, as he watches out for any signs of deceit. Then, he presses his lips into a thin line.

- Make it quick, or I'll pop his head clean off his shoulders. - southern accent floods every syllable, and were you not fighting to save a life (again), you would've blushed.

- Yes, thank you. I'll be quick. Thank you. - words spill out of you like a broken faucet, whispered into the space between your bodies, as the bounty hunter tugs off the loop of his lasso.

You take a moment to steady yourself, as he drags you up with him, hand twisted into the front of your shirt. Still a little stunned, you allow him to manoeuvre you, turning your body in his grasp, until your back is pressed flush against his front.

Strong arm sneaks over your shoulders, hand clasping around the column of your throat, while the other one waits just outside of your vision. The barrel of the gun rests between your shoulder and your neck, and the coolness of the metal causes a myriad of goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

- I'm here Benny - you call out, praying to anything that would listen, that your plan would work - Come out, slowly.

To his credit, Benny has always been quite good at following directions. There weren't many attributes about him either way, a bit dim in the head, a bit too heroic.

And definitely a bit too quick to pull out a gun.

Which is what he does as soon as he sees your peculiar situation. The Ghoul drums his fingers against your pulse point, and Benny approaches, a simple shotgun in front of him.

- What the hell...?

- Benny, I need you to listen to me - your voice sounds way too panicked, and you swallow hard to fake some illusion of control over this situation - I need you to turn around, and leave.

- But, there's a Ghoul with a gun behind you, Healer.

You nearly jump out of your skin, when you feel the hot breath of your unwanted companion on the back of your neck. You can almost imagine his chapped lips, so close to your skin.

- Time's a tickin', sweetheart - he whispers, and your blood runs cold in your veins.

- He's a - you swallow, mouth going dry in an instant - He's my friend. Who's getting very anxious with the trigger, Benny, so please, just go home.

Deep down inside you know there is no scenario, where the farmer leaves alive. He signed his death warrant the moment he stepped out of the shadows, yet for some unknown reason, that just makes you fight against the odds harder. Call it dumb optimism, perhaps you're possessed by your mother's spirit. Or perhaps the chems have finally scrambled your brains for good.

- He's not looking very friendly - Benny's gun sways slightly, as he tries to keep it raised, muscles evidently straining against the weight - He's the guy that shot Pete.

Oh for fucks sake, your whole body starts shaking at this point, heart thrumming in your chest like a moth batting against a lampshade. You can feel the Ghoul smirk against the skin of your shoulder, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. His thumb presses slightly into your pulse, feeling it run rampant against his finger.

- Please - somehow you hope the desperation in your voice will be enough - Please, leave. Benny, please.

Benny looks between you and the Ghoul peaking over your trembling form. You can see his brain working overtime, scrunched eyebrows, smacking of the lips. You're only praying it's working in the right direction. Then, some idea flashes across his expression, and you know in the hollow of your stomach, that this is his end.

- If I save you, will you marry me? - he asks, looking at you with the utmost hopeful expression.

- ...what?

Confusion doesn't even fully register in your mind, as the deafening sound of a gun being fired nearly blows up your eardrums. At first you're not sure, what you're looking at. Where there used to be Benny, now there's a carcass, mangled and bloody. It's hard to figure out, where individual parts of his body are, some bones sticking out from the chunky mush. A spray of red falls onto your face like a morning mist, and the scent of iron and gunpowder is stunning your senses.

You can't move. Eyes glued to what once used to Benny, you don't even notice, as the Ghoul removes himself from you, placing the lasso over your head and around your body. The loop is secured tightly, and the bounty hunter tugs on it a couple of times, just to test its durability. Then, lazily, he picks up your messenger bag, swinging it over his shoulder.

- The first time he came to me for help, he tried to domesticate a rad roach - you mutter absentmindedly, not caring if your unwanted companion is hearing you - Wanted it to help with the farm work. I had to stitch half his left side.

- Stupid life deserves a stupid death.

- You're a fucking monster - you spit out, the feeling of Benny's blood on your lips almost making you gag.

Apparently, the Ghoul takes offense to that, because almost instantly, he's in front of you, his hand gripping your throat, and pushing you hard against the metal plating of the destroyed plane. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, as your head knocks hard into the wall, pain barely registering under the confusion.

- I have been more than accommodating to you, little princess - the Ghoul snarls in your direction, but all you can focus on, is his other hand, grabbing your bruised chin - I've entertained your little medical escapade, I let you negotiate with that dimwit over there.

The warmth of his body suffocates you stronger than any hand around your throat. You can't decide on the color of his eyes, as they seem to shift between amber and green, and completely black. Your mouth opens just a smidge, as you try to defend yourself in any way, but before you can speak, the Ghoul shoves two gloved fingers into your mouth, silencing you in an instant.

- I could be so much worse, darlin', and I don't think you would like that - his voice lowers itself barely above a whisper, and he watches your expression shift under his grip.

You can't help it, really, the way your body reacts to this rough manhandling. It's not like you could predict being pinned to a wall by a stranger would make your thighs press together. Cooper looks down. He smiles like a cat, that's just found the fattest of mice, when his eyes drag back up to your face.

- Or perhaps you would - his knee presses against the middle of your thighs, just short of forcing them apart, and you gasp around his fingers.

As if nothing has happened, he pulls away, so suddenly, you nearly fall over. His gloved hand glistens with your saliva, and gracefully, he wipes it clean on your shirt. Blushed, panting, and very angry at this turn of events, you stare daggers at him, as he tugs at the lasso, forcing you to start moving.

- What is your name? - you demand, blood running hot and defiant in your veins.

Cooper stares for just a moment too long. The way you seem to bristle in rage, even though that farmer truly was stupid, and you know it too. He likes the way your eyes harden, the way your jaw sets, when you realize this is no longer fun and games. When you recognize, how dangerous he can be, how mean and ruthless. He'd be a fool not to admit it, it makes him feel powerful, revered.

And the undertone of humiliation running through the length of your spine is just such a delicious addition. Almost better than chems. Almost more addicting.

Lips tugging back into a nasty smirk, he appraises you with his gaze, surprised when your resolve seems to harden even more.

- You, Healer - your title sounds wrong coming from his thin lips, worse than any other time you've heard it - Can call me "sir".

Something akin to disgust runs through your expression, and you turn away with a grumble.

- Fat fucking chance.

#my writing #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #fallout x reader #fallout tv series #fallout smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul smut #if yall see any typos no you dont ill edit it in the morning i just gotta post it before i go insane #i am slightly taking inspiration from a little ship ive been shiping since highschool but i want tell yall which one #you gotta guess #its from superwholock is all im gonna say which is just... who am i #anyways good night this cowboy is retiring

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just-aake · 2 months

Text

Boundless Devotion - Part XV (Final)

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Words: 8179

It’s difficult to know how much time has passed when you’re trapped within your own mind.

One moment, you’re glaring at the one who you once believed was your father, wishing for his downfall.

The next, you’re falling into the eyes of the one who holds your heart, all while gripping a dagger aimed at hers.

The lost time spent drifting between reality and darkness always leaves you with a sense of helplessness, especially when you later awaken to discover the actions you took during that time, actions that still haunt you.

Your current condition feels similar to that feeling of being trapped, except, unfortunately, this experience is far more agonizing.

With each passing moment, every part of you aches, both mentally and physically.

The sensation only seems to intensify, worsening to where it feels as though your entire body is engulfed in flames, burning from the inside out. Even the simple act of breathing becomes a challenge, let alone attempting to move.

At times, the overwhelming agony drains you to the point where your weary mind is tempted to just surrender to the dark void at the edge of your consciousness, promising relief.

But then a voice breaks through amidst all of the pain, calling your name in desperate pleading.

Though your tired mind struggles to place the voice in the moment, it feels familiar.

There's something about it that warms your heart, making you forget about the pain even if only for a fleeting moment.

The devastation in their tone is the reason you find the sudden need within you to push through the agony, if only to help alleviate the sadness in their voice.

And so, that's what you decide to do.

You endure, and you stay.

Gradually, it starts getting better. The pain lessens along with fewer waves of feverish sensations coursing through your body.

Eventually, you hear other voices too, all familiar and all concerned for you. And as your mind slowly recovers from the fog of pain, it begins to piece those voices with their respective owners.

Wanda and Pietro

Yelena and Kate

Carol

Even Queen Melina

Ironically, the one voice you hear the most, always a constant source of comfort and peace at your side, is the one that proves the most challenging to place.

Frustrated at the mystery of this person, you eventually gather enough strength one day to will your mind to wake up, determined to finally discover their identity.

Slowly, your eyes open, and after a few blinks, your vision clears.

The first thing you realize is that you’re not in your room, but the surroundings look familiar. With a dull ache on your stomach, you opt to turn your head instead to survey the rest of the area.

As your gaze falls upon the sleeping figure by the window, illuminated by the afternoon sun casting a warm glow on her red hair, memories flood back, and you finally recall the owner of that elusive voice.

Natasha

With her eyes closed, the princess sits in her window seat facing you, her head resting on her hand against her bent knee.

The realization that she must have fallen asleep, likely exhausted from watching over you, causes a sad bittersweet feeling to form in your heart.

Glancing around once more, you take in Natasha’s bedroom, a place you haven’t visited in a while since before everything that had happened last year.

Despite subtle changes in details, everything remains mostly unchanged. Her swords and armor hang securely on the wall, and her shelves are lined with books and personal items that she treasured through the years.

On her desk, a small stack of papers awaits her attention, likely documents of the kingdom needing review, and adjacent to them sits a tray of obviously untouched food.

You frown at the sight, aware of Natasha’s tendency to neglect meals whenever she’s stressed or too busy.

Returning your gaze to her, you notice the dark circles under her eyes, deepening your frown and concern.

Intending to call out to her and urge her to rest in her bed, you open your mouth, but your parched throat betrays you, plunging you into a painful fit of coughing instead.

Natasha’s eyes snap open instantly, her body tensing in alertness as she searches the room, before locking onto you in realization.

She swiftly rises from the window seat and approaches the edges of the bed where you lie, her hand reaching out to comfort you but then she stops in hesitation just before she touches you.

As you regain your breath, you notice her hand clench with nervous energy before slowly withdrawing to her side.

Summoning your strength, you reach out and grasp her hand firmly, not letting her go far, as you intertwine your fingers and rest them atop the bed.

You nod toward the bed, silently urging her to stay by your side.

Natasha's tense posture relaxes at your gesture, and a faint, relieved smile forms on her lips as she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. She reaches for the cup on the nightstand, bringing it to your lips and helping you take a sip, soothing your parched throat.

In a whisper so soft as if afraid to break the moment with you, Natasha asks, "How are you feeling?"

“Sore,” you respond honestly, your voice still strained.

A flash of regret flickers across Natasha’s face as she looks towards your injury. Not wanting her to spiral into guilt over what happened, you tug on her clasped hand to bring her attention back to you.

“Can you help me sit up?” you ask, determination in your tone as you release her hand and prepare to push yourself upright.

“You really shouldn’t be moving right now,” Natasha cautions, her hands hovering tentatively in concern.

“I know, but I want to,” you insist.

The thought of continuing to lie helplessly on your back, a sight that likely tormented Natasha during your time of unconsciousness, doesn’t sit well with you.

You want to reassure her that you’re feeling better than your previously weakened state.

Natasha hesitates, torn between honoring your request or prioritizing your well-being. However, she comes to a decision when she sees the determined look on your face.

“You’re so stubborn,” she remarks with a gentle shake of her head, a hint of fondness in her voice, as her hands move to support you carefully in sitting up against the headboard.

“Takes one to know one,” you tease lightly, offering a small smile as you lean back, taking a moment to catch your breath.

A comfortable silence settles between you as you stare up at the ceiling, lost in thought.

Memories flood back, and you distinctly recall Natasha’s anguished face above you before darkness consumed your vision.

Your smile drops slightly at the memory, and with a tired sigh, you turn to meet her patient gaze, breaking the silence.

“How long was I out for?” you ask softly.

“Three days,” Natasha responds gently.

Processing the information, disappointment washes over you as you realize what was supposed to have taken place yesterday.

“Your coronation…I missed it,” you say sadly.

Natasha chuckles softly, shaking her head in disbelief at your priority.

“No, you didn’t,” she reassures. “I’m not the queen yet.”

At your confused expression, Natasha continues her explanation.

“I postponed it. And before you say I didn’t have to, you know that there was no way I would have gone through with it without having you there.”

“Besides,” Natasha adds with a playful smirk. “Staying by your side is always better than any kind of event, even if it’s my coronation.”

Her comment lightens the somber atmosphere, drawing a small laugh from you, which makes her grin in turn.

The action causes a dull ache to appear at your side, and unconsciously, your hand moves to brush against the bandages covering where the blade had pierced you, reminding you of your ordeal.

“So what happened after…” you trail off, unable to voice the memory.

Natasha's gaze shifts sadly to your wounded area as she begins to explain.

"Yelena arrived with the physician shortly after. They tended to Pietro and you," she recounts. "Meanwhile, Kate stayed at her manor to apprehend the attackers and helped Wanda to recover."

Concern flickers in your eyes, prompting Natasha to offer a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry, Wanda's fine. She just tired herself out when she took down Rumlow and his followers.”

At your puzzled expression, Natasha moves her hand pointedly, mirroring the similar action of Wanda’s whenever she uses her powers.

“Oh,” you say, at a loss for words in realization.

Natasha chuckles at your expression, raising her brows at you.

“You did say she had a special way with people.”

Sighing worriedly, you explain your reasoning for keeping Wanda’s abilities a secret.

“You know how some people are towards magic, Natasha.”

“Well, considering she saved our lives, I’ll make sure no one messes with her, though I’m sure she can protect herself just fine.”

You let out a small breath of relief at her reassurance before inquiring further, “What about everyone else?”

Natasha tilts her head in thought as she continues to recount the events afterward.

“Clint was able to warn my dad, Steve, and Carol in time to capture the ones under control here in the castle. And as for the ones that went after my mom…”

She lets out an exasperated sigh before continuing, “...let’s just say that they shouldn’t have attacked her in her lab when she was in the middle of mixing certain chemicals and powders.”

You chuckle lightly at the thought, knowing about Queen Melina’s tendency to cause explosions in her lab during her experiments.

However, the mention of explosions brings a grim reminder of another figure Natasha hasn't mentioned yet.

“And Dreykov?” you ask cautiously. “Did he escape?”

Natasha's hand clench into a fist at his name, her expression clouding with silent fury.

"No, he's currently in prison, awaiting trial. Along with the rest of the traitors," she responds, shaking her head with resolve.

Taking your hand in a reassuring grip, she adds, "But you don't need to worry about him. I won't let him hurt you ever again."

Natasha lifts your hand to her lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your skin.

“I promise.”

You offer her a grateful smile, relieved at the information.

However, a sense of resignation settles in as you prepare to bring up the next topic.

“I guess all that’s left is to decide what to do about me,” you say with a heavy sigh.

Natasha tightens her grip on your hand as she urges gently, "Just concentrate on getting better.”

You chuckle lightly before your expression turns somber as you clarify.

"No, I mean about me being the Stark princess."

An awkward silence descends in the air, both of you acutely aware of the weight of the decision looming over you.

As much as you dislike it, the reality of your identity remains, and you need to officially address its involvement in your future eventually.

“What do you want to do?” Natasha finally asks, breaking the silence.

You contemplate your options and remember your conversation with Bucky, finding that your feelings about your decision remain unchanged even now.

"Honestly, Natasha, I want to just leave it in the past," you admit. "Everything's relatively peaceful between the kingdoms at the moment. What's the point in bringing up troubling revelations from mistakes in the past?"

“Are you sure?” Natasha questions in concern before pointing out. “You’re essentially rejecting your title as a princess.”

You nod, giving her a content smile.

"I've never needed it in my life before,” you say as you tilt your head at her in question, a hint of warmth in your voice as you ask, “Besides, I already have a princess in my life, don't I?”

Natasha returns your gaze with an affectionate smile before intertwining your hands together.

"Yeah, I'm yours," she affirms softly.

Gradually, you feel more strength returning to your body as you remain awake, nodding confidently as you adjust your position carefully.

"I think I'm feeling better enough to go back to my manor this evening," you observe, suggesting, "If you could have the twins come and help me, then you can finally get a proper night's sleep in your own bed tonight."

Before you can sit up any further, Natasha’s hand moves to your shoulder, gently holding you in place, her expression filled with disbelief.

Glancing at her hand, you give her a questioning look, causing Natasha to shake her head exasperatedly.

"If you think you're going to leave this bed anytime soon, especially after being stabbed for my sake, you need to think again," Natasha says firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Meeting her gaze, you both engage in a standoff, locked in a silent challenge. After a moment, Natasha raises her brow at you.

“If the situation was reversed, would you let me move?” she asks pointedly.

You open your mouth to reply before deflating in resignation, knowing you would do the same as her if you were in her position.

“Fine,” you concede, though a small pout forms on your lips, before adding, “But I should still return your bed to you and move into one of the guest rooms.”

Natasha tilts her head in thought as she traces a pattern on the blanket on your lap before commenting.

"Is that really necessary? It's not like we haven't slept in the same bed before," she reasons, her tone light.

Then, with a teasing smirk, she adds, "Unless this is your way of avoiding me after I confessed that I love you."

You pause, taken aback by her casual declaration, and you feel your cheeks heating up as you finally process her words.

When you see the victorious smirk on her face, you roll your eyes and shake your head, giving her a chatising look.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, frustration evident in your tone, though there's a hint of fondness.

“I believe you’ve always called me charming,” Natasha retorts, her smirk widening.

Frustrated, your hands grip the collar of her tunic tightly, pulling her closer to you.

"Natasha Alianovna Romanov," you begin, your voice tinged with both exasperation and affection.

She smirks, amusement dancing in her eyes as she catches herself with her hands against the bed on each side of you, encasing you between her arms.

Gazing at you with a teasing expression, she prompts, "Yes?"

With a small smile, you finally gather the courage to voice the words you've been longing to tell her.

"I'm in love with you," you confess softly, your heart pounding in your chest.

"That's good..." Natasha replies, her voice tender as she leans in closer, "...cause I'm deeply in love with you too."

Her words brush against your lips softly, and without hesitation, you tug her closer, closing the tiny distance between the two of you.

The kiss feels both new and familiar, a perfect blend of passion and tenderness, as you lose yourself in the moment, savoring the warmth of her lips against yours.

Natasha is the one who pulls back first, resting her forehead against yours and letting out a happy sigh.

"You have no idea how many times I've wanted to do that," she admits, her voice filled with sincere longing.

Unconsciously, you lightly bite your lip to keep the warmth and feeling of her there for a little longer, before noticing Natasha's gaze drifting down to the subtle movement.

You recall the countless times you've witnessed that look of desire in her eyes, prompting a small chuckle to escape your lips as you pull her in closer.

"I think I do," you tease, brushing lightly against her lips. "You're not exactly subtle, princess."

Natasha lets out a tiny huff, her lips curving into a playful smile before she leans in for another kiss and then another, each one gentle and delicate, never leaving your lips for more than a second, as she steals your breath away and makes you melt against her.

Your hand, still lingering on her collar, instinctively seeks more contact, slipping beneath the thin layer of her clothing to clutch at her bare shoulder.

The warmth of her skin beneath your touch only intensifies the longing between you as you try to pull her closer.

As you go to deepen the kiss, the moment is suddenly shattered by an unexpected interruption.

“Oh my—Nat! Let her breathe! She just woke up!”

Startled, you pull back from Natasha, breaking the kiss, as your gaze shifts to the doorway where Yelena and Kate stand.

Natasha groans in frustration, her head falling against your shoulder.

Kate quickly steps in to cover Yelena's mouth, offering you an apologetic expression.

"Sorry! We just wanted to check on you two. We didn't mean to interrupt," she explains, as Yelena’s objection is muffled behind her hand.

Still pressed against your neck, Natasha responds in an annoyed tone, "Then leave."

Yelena rolls her eyes at her sister's bluntness, pulling Kate's hand away to respond, "Alright, alright, we get it."

With a warm smile directed at you, Yelena adds, "It's good to see you awake, Y/n."

"Yeah, we're glad that you're okay," Kate chimes in, relief evident in her eyes.

You offer them both a grateful nod. "Thank you two for coming."

“I guess we’ll visit you later then,” Yelena remarks, moving to take Kate's arm and guide her away from the door.

As Kate closes the door behind them, you catch snippets of their conversation.

"Should we really, though?" Kate's voice holds a hint of hesitation. "I don't want to interrupt them again while they're...you know."

Yelena hums thoughtfully before responding, "I mean it's a good thing we did this time, or else Y/n would have probably pulled out her stitches trying to undress Natasha."

Your face flushes with embarrassment as you instinctively cover it with your hands, feeling a wave of mortification wash over you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, adjusting her tunic as she shoots you a playful smirk, a teasing glint dancing in her eyes.

“Don’t even start,” you warn, noticing her mischievous expression.

Natasha holds up her hands innocently, adopting a nonchalant tone as she suggests, "I was just going to say we should have the physician come and check your condition."

She then adds with a teasing edge, "After all, you may have overexerted yourself from being so eager to kiss me."

You huff in disbelief, raising a skeptical eyebrow at her.

"I'm the eager one?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your tone.

Natasha nods with mock seriousness.

"If you say so."

Rolling your eyes, you playfully swat at her shoulder, then turn away with a small pout.

"In all seriousness, though, let me go get the physician," Natasha says, amusement evident in her voice at your behavior.

As she turns to leave, you call out to her.

"Wait, Natasha.”

She turns back to face you, curiosity in her eyes.

Leaning forward, you catch her off guard with a surprise kiss before pulling away.

"...okay, now you can go," you whisper against her lips.

Natasha's eyes fluttered closed at the unexpected contact, her tongue lightly tracing where your lips touched hers. When she finally opens her eyes again, they seem impossibly darker, filled with a mixture of desire and love that makes your breath catch.

“That’s unfair,” she breathes out, her voice husky with desire. “…doing that just as I’m about to leave.”

You pull away slightly, only for her to follow, not allowing the distance between you two to grow. A sly, knowing grin spreads across your face as you tease her.

"I just wanted to see who between us is actually the one who's more eager."

"I'm your princess, yet you're teasing me like this," Natasha says playfully, feigning disbelief.

"And you still love me anyway," you point out, a fond smile playing on your lips.

Natasha's eyes soften, and she closes the distance between you once more, whispering her next words against your lips.

“Yeah, I do.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Upon hearing that you were awake, Wanda and Pietro arrived quickly just as the physician was assessing your condition.

Soon after, a request from her mother to speak with Natasha in private causes her to leave the twins in charge of watching over you at your insistence.

Now, Natasha stands in her private study, a deep frown creasing her forehead as she examines the letters that her mother had handed to her.

“What is this?” Natasha asks, her voice steady but laced with a subtle hint of anger as she reads the contents of some of the letters.

Melina lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples as if trying to ward off an impending headache, knowing that her daughter won't take the news well.

“Many of the heads of the other noble houses in the kingdom are asking for Lord Dreykov’s release,” she reveals grimly.

“He tried to kill me,” Natasha states incredulously. “And yet they’re still defending him.”

“I warned you that Lord Dreykov is influential among the other nobles. You need strong evidence if you want people to turn their back on him,” her mother reminds her.

She then places a stack of documents on the desk, and Natasha quickly realizes that these are the results of Steve’s investigation.

Her mother continues her lecture, as Natasha skims the contents.

“The staff from the Bishop manor provided witness accounts of Lord Rumlow and the others' betrayal, but there were no witnesses at Dreykov’s manor besides you and Y/n.”

“What about his guards?” Natasha suggests.

Melina shakes her head grimly. “Found dead in their cells by unknown means.”

“What about Barnes?” Natasha points out the presence of the old captain.

Melina gives her a look of disbelief, raising an eyebrow.

“The other nobles are not going to believe the words of a known criminal.”

Frustration and disbelief cloud Natasha's expression as she processes the information. She searches for another angle, another way to bring Dreykov to justice.

“If we can’t prove attempted murder against me, then what about the fact that he almost killed Y/n?”

Melina grimaces, her reluctance evident in her expression as she braces herself to deliver the answer Natasha doesn't want to hear.

“What is it?” Natasha presses, her tone betraying a hint of impatience.

Melina taps the stack of letters pointedly before explaining, “Many argue that Dreykov’s actions against Y/n are akin to a father disciplining their child and is not a crime, especially considering she survived. They believe it's a family matter that should be resolved within the respective house and not involve any others.”

Natasha's frown deepens as she hears this, her hand tightening around the letters.

“I told you handling the relationships between the nobles of the court is delicate work,” Melina reminds her gently.

“Yeah, I’m starting to see what you mean,” Natasha concedes, her expression resigned in anger at the twisted parts of the kingdom.

Melina offers a comforting gesture, placing a hand on Natasha's shoulder and giving her a proud look.

“Don’t worry, Natasha. Lord Dreykov can still be forced to face trial if you want. And I’m confident that you can convince the others to be on your side. In this matter and the future.”

Her mother’s encouragement does little to ease Natasha’s mind of the difficult task ahead for her once she becomes the queen.

Despite the troubling news, Natasha still thanks her mother for the warning before taking her leave.

Returning to your side, Natasha finds you resting once again, exhaustion evident in your features. She watches you with a tender and affectionate gaze, remembering her promise to protect you from any further harm.

If there's one thing Natasha is certain of for the future, it's her unwavering commitment to fulfilling her vow to protect you.

With that resolve in mind, she later finds herself standing at the entrance of the most secure cell in prison, her arms crossed as she fixes a steely glare on the person seated in the shadows.

"Well?" Dreykov's voice cuts through the stillness of the chamber. “Is that girl dead yet?”

Natasha's jaw clenches at his callous words, refusing to be baited by his cruelty.

A click of his tongue signals his understanding before he speaks again, his tone laced with a hint of mockery.

“No, you wouldn’t let that happen. So, then, are you here to finish what you started?”

Dreykov's eyes finally meet hers, his form emerging from the darkness as he tilts his head, his injuries still evident in the flickering light.

His face bears the remnants of bruises, one eye swollen shut—a testament to the beating Natasha had inflicted upon him when she first learned of the severity and uncertainty of your condition from the physician.

Unconsciously, Natasha's hands clench into fists, the memory of her rage surfacing as she recalls the moment she unleashed her fury upon him, her knuckles bruising and bleeding until Yelena intervened to pull her away.

Dreykov catches her movement, a knowing glint in his eyes as a smirk tug at the corners of his lips.

“I see, so you’re mad because you can’t kill me,” he says confidently, accurately guessing her current predicament. “Tell me, how many of the other nobles have interceded for my release?”

Natasha grits her teeth in irritation at the extent of Dreykov's influence over the court and the fact he already knows that some nobles would rally to his defense.

“They’ll abandon you once they realize what sort of person you truly are,” she retorts, her tone firm.

Dreykov chuckles in amusement, unfazed by her words.

“Feeling pressured already?” he taunts. “It’s just going to get worse from here on. After all, I’m not the only one in this kingdom who wants a war.”

“And you already know that I would never let that happen,” Natasha counters, her voice tinged with resolve. “That’s the whole reason why you didn’t want me as the queen in the first place.”

Dreykov eyes her critically, considering her words before a smirk dances across his lips.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you. You have potential. You just need the right…” he waves his hand dramatically. “…motivation.”

Rolling her eyes at his attempt at manipulation, Natasha turns to leave.

However, before she can reach the exit, Dreykov's voice calls out to her, stopping her in her tracks.

“Do you know what causes war the most, Your Highness? More than greed or vengeance?”

Natasha turns back to glare at him, irritated by his continued insinuations.

At her silence, he answers his own question.

“Love,” he spits out the word in disgust. “Such a foolish emotion, but you’d be surprised at how much destruction it can cause.”

He raises his brow at her, gesturing pointedly. “And it seems you have plenty for that pathetic girl.”

Natasha slams her fist against the bars, anger erupting, as she glares daggers at him.

“You better hope you don’t get to leave this cell, Dreykov. Because if I ever see you free…” she pauses, her voice lowering to a dangerous tone. “…I’ll kill you myself.”

Despite her threat, a pleased smile forms on Dreykov’s face, as if her words confirmed something for him, infuriating her further.

Turning swiftly to the door, Natasha indicates to the guards to let her out, but Dreykov's voice interrupts her again.

“I do have one more question for you.”

The door opens for her to leave as he continues.

“If that girl ever ends up in the way of you and your so-called peace, would you still choose to avoid war then…or would you fight for her?”

Natasha clenches her hand, finding herself unable to respond, her mind consumed by the weight of his words.

With a determined look, she decides not to entertain his question further, swiftly leaving the cell and slamming the door shut behind her.

“I look forward to seeing what your choice would be when that time comes, Your Majesty,” Dreykov's voice echoes tauntingly down the corridor as Natasha makes her way back to you.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The unsettling exchange with Dreykov from that night a week ago still lingers in her mind as Natasha sits at her desk, lost in thought.

She ponders his cryptic words, bothered by his confidence that trouble was coming, and especially at the implication of having you in the middle of it all.

Her main concern is for your safety, prompting her to consider every possible scenario where you might be at risk.

After all, she had come dangerously close to losing you during the recent conflict, a thought that sends a shiver down her spine every time.

Leaning back in her chair, Natasha’s gaze falls on the small opened box resting on her desk, illuminated by the soft moonlight filtering through the window.

The red gemstone embedded in the golden band glimmers with a silent promise, one that she hasn’t dared to ask you yet.

Pushing aside the unsettling thoughts of Dreykov's words, Natasha closes the lid of the box with a gentle sigh, tucking it away in the drawer for safekeeping.

One day, she promises.

When she can guarantee your safety and ensure that she can provide you with a peaceful future, she’ll give it to you then.

A knock at her door draws her attention, and Natasha looks up to see you poking your head inside, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

"Don’t tell me you’re hiding already?" you tease, your voice laced with amusement.

Natasha's lips curve into a fond smile at the sight of you, her worries momentarily pushed aside by your presence.

Chuckling softly, she shakes her head before asking, “Did my mother send you?”

“She wanted me to make sure you wouldn’t be late,” you reply, walking over to her with cautious steps, mindful of your injury.

Leaning back against her desk, you give her a pointed look.

“After all, it’s your last ball as the princess before you become the queen tomorrow.”

Natasha smiles gently at the reminder before glancing down at the area of your dress where she knows the bandages are hiding underneath. Her expression softens with concern as she meets your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Better,” you assure her. “I’ve been able to move around by myself without any help.”

Standing up, Natasha intertwines her fingers with yours, drawing you closer as she gazes at you.

“You look beautiful,” she compliments softly, her eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

“So do you,” you respond, your hand reaching up to gently brush against her cheek, slowly losing yourself in her gaze.

Then as if remembering your original goal, you clear your throat and nod towards the door.

“We should go. Your mother’s expecting us,” you remind her.

At your suggestion, Natasha moves closer to you, enclosing you between the desk and her body.

“I’m sure we can spare a couple of minutes, can’t we?” she asks, her voice lowering suggestively, caressing the air as she leans in.

Raising a brow skeptically, you tilt your head slightly, your lips barely grazing hers as you ask, “Only a couple of minutes?”

The moment your lips touch hers, Natasha's eyes darken with desire, her breath catching in her throat.

Absentmindedly humming in agreement, she whispers, “…yeah, just a couple…” before closing the distance between you.

Arriving at the ball later than expected, you and Natasha are greeted by her mother at the entrance, who gives you both a reprimanding yet knowing look.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, offering her a genuinely apologetic expression. “We lost track of time talking.”

Melina raises her hand in a stopping gesture at your explanation.

“No, don’t apologize, Y/n. I’m sure I can guess what happened,” she says, shooting a pointed glare at her daughter before turning her attention back to you.

“Would you mind giving us a moment alone?”

You nod in understanding, softly excusing yourself.

Natasha brings the back of your hand up for a gentle kiss goodbye before releasing it, and you turn to leave the two women to their private conversation.

“Hold on, Y/n,” Melina calls out to you before you can go too far.

Stepping up to you, Melina carefully examines you before adjusting the strap of your dress on your shoulder slightly.

“Do try to direct Natasha to a less visible area the next time you two decide to ‘talk’,” she advises with a raised brow.

A flush spreads across your face in realization, and you quickly place your hand atop the area she adjusted, before giving a reprimanding look to Natasha, who looks away, barely concealing the satisfied grin playing on her lips.

You offer a quick, polite thanks before swiftly making your exit, eager to leave the embarrassing situation behind.

Turning back to her daughter, Melina meets her gaze with a raised brow.

“I guess it’s safe to say that your relationship with Y/n is still going well?”

Natasha smiles softly at her observation, her eyes still following you as you go to join the others.

“Yeah, it is,” she replies honestly.

“That’s good,” Melina comments, handing her a cup before taking a sip of her own. “It’s important to show the other nobles how good the two of you are together so that they can have more confidence in the future with you as the ruler.”

Natasha nods in understanding, taking a sip of her drink in preparation for another lecture from her mother.

“Even if your relationship started as a ruse in the beginning,” her mother adds nonchalantly.

Natasha chokes on her drink in surprise at her mother’s words, coughing lightly as she gives her an incredulous look.

Melina raises a brow at her in challenge, daring her to deny her claim.

Looking away, Natasha glances over to where you are, oblivious to you and her arrangement being revealed at the moment.

As if feeling her eyes on you, you glance up, meeting her eyes and giving her a soft smile. She returns it before returning her focus to her mother.

Knowing there’s no point in trying to convince her mother otherwise, Natasha asks instead, “When did you figure it out?”

“Oh, I’ve had my suspicions since the beginning,” her mother reveals, swirling the contents of her cup in thought as she recalls how the events all started.

“That morning, Y/n mentioned in passing about her meeting with Lady Maria as a potential partner, so I knew I had to do something to make you act.”

Natasha's brows furrow as she pieces together her mother's words with her own memories. She was right to think it was odd that her mother would suddenly take an interest in her love life, especially with such a ridiculous ultimatum given in such a short time.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Natasha interjects, holding up her hand as she processes the information. “You're saying the only reason you pressured me to find someone was because you found out about Y/n’s date with Lady Maria?”

Melina nods before offering Natasha a sympathetic pat on her back.

“Let’s be honest, Natasha, you can be quite oblivious when it comes to your feelings for Y/n. I only pushed you to pay more attention to your love life because I didn’t want you to miss your chance with her.”

“No, you said that if I didn’t find someone, you were going to choose someone for me,” Natasha reminds her mother, her tone tinged with frustration.

Melina waves her hand dismissively.

“I was confident that you would come up with something before it ever got to that point, and you did. This charade that the two of you concocted worked out much better in the end, wouldn’t you agree?”

Natasha gapes at her mother, blinking in disbelief. She pinches her brows, feeling a headache forming at her mother’s antics.

“Please, go meddle with someone else's love life,” Natasha pleads, her patience wearing thin.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Natasha,” she says, chuckling, before pressing on, undeterred by her daughter's exasperation. “Now, tell me, have you thought of a plan on how to propose to Y/n yet?”

Meanwhile, after leaving Natasha with her mother, you join the pair at one side of the ballroom. Stepping in front of the twins with a warm smile, you admire their new formal clothing that you had arranged for them to attend the event.

“Well, don’t you two look beautiful and dashing?” you compliment, ruffling Pietro’s hair playfully. He swats at your hand lightly with a pout, then tugs at the collar of his shirt.

“I think you and Wanda are just trying to choke me in this,” he comments.

A red mist envelopes his topmost button and undoes it, granting him some relief.

“Better?” Wanda asks, returning her hand to cross her arms at her brother’s exaggerated behavior.

“Yes, I can actually breathe now,” Pietro responds with a teasing smirk, nudging his sister in thanks.

At the corner of your eye, you notice some nobles nearby shooting disapproving glares at your group, their attention mostly focused on Wanda, and then they begin to speak to each other, their voices intentionally loud.

“So disgraceful that they allow such people in here.”

“Did you see her eyes? They say it’s red like a demon.”

Pietro scowls at their words, moving protectively in front of his sister, but you stop him before he could confront them.

Then placing a comforting hand on Wanda’s shoulder, you check up on her. She gives you a reassuring smile, truly unbothered by their harsh words.

You’re glad to see her adjusting okay to the fact that her powers are now known by others in the kingdom.

Still, you will not stand idly and let them talk about people you care about like that. The twins may not be in a position to say anything, but you can always defend and protect them.

Before you can confront the rude nobles, however, they are suddenly pushed off balance, stumbling to the ground, as the pair of canines rush through their legs towards you.

Their respective owners follow swiftly after them, with the younger princess giving the people a glare and challenging look, causing them to avert their gaze in embarrassment, looking elsewhere.

Yelena turns to your group with a satisfied grin.

“Don’t mind them, Wanda. They’re always judging everyone,” she says.

Kate nods in agreement, adding, “Yeah, intolerant people like them are not worth your time. There’s plenty of people in the kingdom who already know you’re amazing.”

Pietro chuckles and places his hand atop his sister’s head teasingly, remarking, “Careful with the compliments now, we wouldn’t want her getting a big head.”

Wanda rolls her eyes in response, shoving his arm off and commenting pointedly, “Your head is already big enough for the both of us.”

As the four of them continue their playful conversations, your eyes spot a familiar face hovering in the shadows at the edge of the ballroom.

Excusing yourself, you make your way over to the lone captain.

“Not one for parties?” you ask as you step up next to Bucky.

He sighs and shakes his head as he observes the surrounding guests joyfully engaged in celebration.

“It’s been a while since I attended events like these, but then again, I’ve never enjoyed them before anyway,” he admits.

Curious about something that you’ve been wondering about him, you finally ask.

“Why did you decide to come to this kingdom? You know, after hiding away for so long.”

A silence follows, and just as you think he’s going to leave your question unanswered, he finally responds, nodding toward the distance.

“To visit a friend.”

You follow Bucky’s gaze and realize he’s looking at Steve, who’s currently in conversation with Clint and Maria.

As if feeling your eyes, Steve glances up toward your direction, giving you two a welcoming smile and waving his hand in invitation.

A small smile forms on Bucky’s face, surprising you, and you find yourself asking curiously, “Then why not just stay? Enjoy life without constantly looking over your shoulder for danger and having to run away.”

He chuckles ruefully, giving you a look of disbelief.

“I’m the most wanted criminal of the Stark Kingdom. Nowhere is safe for me or for those who help me.”

“Well, at least consider the option,” you say, nudging him gently and giving him a pointed look. “Because you do have more than one friend here.”

He examines you carefully before giving you a silent, noncommittal nod, and you understand that this will be the most you’ll get from him.

“Y/n!”

At the call of your name, you turn to see Carol coming towards you. As you turn back around to excuse yourself, you're not surprised to find Bucky has sneaked away.

Carol stops in front of you, the happy smile fading slightly into a serious expression as she examines you critically.

"How are you feeling?" she asks with genuine concern.

The familiarity in her question makes you laugh lightly as you shake your head.

“You and Natasha. Why do you two keep asking me that?”

Carol raises an amused brow at you.

"It's because we both care about you, Y/n," she answers softly before tilting her head in thought.

"Maybe the fact we both like the same things is why we're always competing with each other," she muses aloud before extending her hand in invitation.

"Speaking of, would you like to join me for one dance before Natasha decides to keep you all to herself?"

You give her a playful warning look, raising your brow at her.

"No extravagant twirling, lifts, or dips?" you ask, knowing her tendencies.

Carol nods in reassurance, answering firmly, "I promise."

As she leads you in a slow dance, keeping an easy pace to avoid tiring you, you seize the moment to ask her something.

“Are you leaving after the coronation tomorrow?”

Carol nods in confirmation.

“That’s the plan,” she responds. “I want to do as much exploring as I can before my own coronation.”

A tiny, sad smile forms on your face at Carol's words. You've honestly missed her since she started her travels. Poking her pointedly, you give her a serious expression.

"Still, you should come visit more often," you tell her.

Her eyes soften, and she gives you a small nod.

“For you, I will,” she says, a hint of affection slipping into her tone. "If you ever need anything, Y/n, just let me know, and I’ll have my ship practically fly back to you."

Her eyes glance at something behind you before she shrugs, adding with a sigh, “And I guess the same applies to Natasha if she ever needs my help again.”

“How generous,” Natasha remarks dryly, her voice tinged with sarcasm, as she comes to a stop beside you.

Carol gives you a small bow in thanks, her expression teasing as she remarks, “Looks like my time’s up.”

“Natasha,” she greets, giving her an acknowledging nod.

Natasha returns the sentiment, her demeanor cool as she replies, “Carol.”

Carol gives you one last smile, before pressing a chaste kiss on your hand goodbye and whispering sincerely, “Be happy, Y/n.”

As she leaves, you glance at Natasha and notice the small displeased pout on her face.

Unable to resist teasing her, you nudge her gently, remarking, “Jealousy looks cute on you.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your statement before offering her hand to you.

“May I have a dance?”

As Natasha leads you in a slow dance, you can’t help but feel nostalgic, leaning your head against her shoulder.

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” you ask softly.

Natasha hums in agreement and nods against you, responding, “Last time we danced like this, we decided to be a couple.”

You chuckle at the memory, reminiscing about how clueless you were back then, never imagining how things would turn out for the two of you.

The soft music creates a serene atmosphere, cocooning you and Natasha in your own world, away from everyone else.

Recalling the details of your original agreement, you meet Natasha’s eyes, a mischievous glint dancing in your gaze.

“You know, according to our deal, our fake relationship is supposed to end after your coronation tomorrow,” you point out.

Natasha raises an intrigued eyebrow, curious about your intentions.

“So, what should we do about that then?” she asks, her tone playful.

You tilt your head, pretending to ponder before flashing her a teasing smirk.

“Didn’t we agree that if anything were to happen between us, it would be the princess who confessed her feelings first?”

Understanding dawns on Natasha’s face, and she grins in agreement, a fond smile playing on her lips.

“Y/n,” she begins softly, her gaze filled with affection. “From the moment I met you, I knew you were amazing…then I learned that you were really stubborn.”

You roll your eyes at her teasing, but Natasha just chuckles before continuing.

“But you're also kind and smart. And truly the strongest person I know.”

She leans in closer, her breath mingling with yours.

“My heart and my life have always been yours, Y/n.”

You feel warmth spreading through your chest at her confession, and you can’t help but cup her face gently with your hands.

“You’re my best friend,” Natasha continues, her voice barely above a whisper as she covers your hand with hers. “But I would be honored if you are willing to have me as more than that.”

Your heart swells with love, and you nod happily as you respond.

"I want that too, Natasha," you whisper sincerely. “I want to continue to stay by your side and be yours too. Always.”

With those words of promise, Natasha closes the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a tender kiss.

The sound of cheers and applause surrounds you, but you pay no mind, lost in the moment with Natasha.

You don’t know what the future holds, but you’re not afraid. As long as you’re together, you know you can overcome anything that comes your way.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Epilogue

In another kingdom, far away, inside one of the workshops of the castle, the king’s assistant waits patiently by the doorway for a pause in the king’s pastime of tinkering.

“What’s the matter, Jarvis?” Tony Stark asks without looking up from his careful concentration.

“A letter arrived for you, sir.”

“Is it about the next shipment of parts?”

“No, sir, this came from a nobleman in the Romanov Kingdom.”

“Oh…you can just toss it in the fire then.”

There’s an awkward silence as his assistant makes no move to do as he asked, causing Tony to glance up in question.

The assistant hesitates before explaining.

“Counselor Potts strongly advised us not to do that anymore, under the warning of severe punishment should she find out. Also, the messenger stressed that the contents pertain to an urgent matter.”

Tony stops and furrows his brow. After the war and the deaths of his whole family, he preferred to keep contact between the kingdoms to a minimum. Just because there’s a peace treaty between them doesn’t mean he has to like or care about anyone there.

On the other hand, facing the wrath of his most trusted advisor for ignoring this letter is not something he wants to deal with in the foreseeable future.

“Just leave it on the table then,” he sighs with a roll of his eyes.

If anything, it’s probably more news about the coronation of their upcoming queen. He’s already sent his decline to attend the event and a decent enough congratulations present that Pepper picked out.

He doesn’t understand why they can’t just keep the indifferent relationship between the two kingdoms as is instead trying to make them into something closer.

Shaking his head as Jarvis closes the door behind him, Tony attempts to return to his flow of concentration, picking up his tools as he continues to tinker with the parts in front of him.

Unfortunately, as time passes, his eyes keep glancing at the letter sitting in the corner, something about it gives him some sort of unnerving feeling.

Slumping with a resigned sigh that he can’t keep his focus anymore, he places his tools down again and swipes at the letter, sitting at the edge of the table.

Opening it, he skims the contents quickly before his posture suddenly straightens with tension, his expression turning serious.

The door of the workshop slams open, and Tony strides out purposefully, calling to his assistant.

“Jarvis!”

They are at his side in an instant, following him and listening for the next orders.

“Tell Vision to prepare the carriages and let Pepper know I’ll be away a bit for some business.”

“Yes, sir. May I ask where you will be traveling to?”

“The Romanov Kingdom,” Tony answers, glancing at the letter in his hand before tightening his fist, crumpling the paper slightly.

“Looks like it’s time to pay this new queen a visit after all.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

a/n: Thank you to everyone for reading all the way to the end of this series! (especially this long chapter) It's been a journey, and I'm happy that many of you enjoyed it and showed up for every update (all of your comments and reactions are so sweet and fun to read and honestly helped to keep me motivated).

This is the final part of the series, but it's not the end yet. There will be a sequel for Boundless Devotion, and it's called Everlasting Devotion (title mention in prequel Fateful Encounter 🤗).

I’m still in the middle of working on it, so the first chapter is not going to be released right away since I also want to finish some other one shots that I‘ve been working on and maybe take a little break.

That being said, for those currently in the taglist for Boundless Devotion and anyone else who's interested, if you also want to be added in the taglist for when the sequel starts, please let me know. (I prefer to ask again just in case instead of just assuming and forcing you along on another series that you didn't sign up for)

Again, thank you to all of you for reading!

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria, @romanoffprentiss, @canvascoloredin, @silentwolfsstuff, @blacklightsposts, @arcturusseer, @presser24, @dvrkhcld, @jujuu23, @screechcat, @vivs46, @cd-4848, @youneversawmehereooooooo, @pancakefan7529, @confusedspaceotter, @natbelovasblog, @izzy-b09, @iamheartless, @mrsrushman, @fxckmiup, @natty-taffy, @2silverchain, @traveler-at-heart, @autorasexy, @natsxwife, @mviswidow, @slut4johansson, @automaticdinosaurtaco, @jono723, @mousetheorist, @tofu9162, @natsbiggestfan1, @iheartjohansson, @nothanksbye07, @midastouch013, @dvrkhcld, @red1culous

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