#I feel like I'm taking it easy but then it's GOING TO BE DAMN HARD

[arabellasfvv]

I wanna be Simon's wifey who always cooks meals, always doing meat nights when he gets home from missions (god knows that man can't feed himself). Except, I'm always injured whenever those days happen. And Simon's just now realizing how strange his meat tastes. (　＾∀＾)

Oh, you litte freak.... I got you.

Cw: forced and willing cannibalism, self harm, medical inaccuracies, gorish murder scene, both reader and Simon are a little cuckoo bananas. Dead dove; do not eat. 6.1k words of nonsense

MDNI 18+ and pretty pictures

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It wasn’t that Simon was an oblivious man. Far from it. He was sharp, observant like no other. He could smell enemies from a mile away, catch every twitch and hesitation in an interrogation. He pulled truths from men like birds worms from the earth.

But that was work. That was easy. It was what he was made for.

You… You were something else entirely.

When a POW teared up, he could sneer, push harder, twist the knife until everything stank of blood and iron. But with you, with his girl, he couldn’t even dare to raise his voice without guilt threatening to make his chest cave in. With you, he had to get on his knees, cradle your face in his calloused hands, and hope he wasn’t holding you too roughly.

Talking to you was a different beast. Even after slipping a ring onto your finger, it still took effort, intention. He was praised for how well he read people, how he could sniff out motives like a damn beagle.

But with you, none of that training seemed to function. You were new territory. He felt like an old dog who'd never learned a single trick.

All his observatory skills went out the window when it came to you. You'd have to spit on his face and call him a dozen of names to make him realise he had fucked up.

So you could do it all carelessly, didn't have to overthink him catching you.

Sweet smile greeting him at the door, like always. Lip balm leaving a film on his cheek when you come up to kiss it. "Missed you," your voice makes him sigh with relief. "Not hurt, are you?" The questions that proves he's home, that he's safe for now.

"No," he assures, biting back the 'but you are' that threatens to slip past his lips. It feels as if he literally has to swallow the words back down, like a rock going down his throat because he just wants to ppint it out so bad.

You're hurt so fucking often. He hates it.

But he knows you have a past. Weren't always the most stable. You have scars he assumes are from past Self harm. Something he doesnt want to acknowledge, a topic he didn't think he could handle. Maybe because it would be a trigger to him, or maybe because he feels like crying at the thought of a wide eyed you hurting that way. Probably both.

So it stays unspoken. The bandages, the occasional blood spatter, the little winces when you recover, he allows himself not to dwell. As if it couldn't even be serious.

He looks for just a second, eyes flickering over the white bandage peeking out beneath that pretty dress of yours. The light limp in your step when you drag him to the kitchen with a soft hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Smells good," he compliments, pressing a light kiss to the crook of your neck as you pull out his chair. "Pretty sure I'm supposed to do that for you, luv."

You laugh, like everything is normal, brush him off because, "You work hard for us. Pulling out a chair—"

He's having none of it, pushing you down into the chair you just pulled out, watching you shift to get comfortable in it before moving it closer to the table again.

"Won't even let me serve you food?"

"You cooked." You wanna argue, cooking was an easy task, you'd do it any day for him and it'd never take any energy from you. But the man was stubborn, so you watched as he played the both of you some food.

Your smile is fond when you see portion. The fact you managed to get him from eating way too little way too fast, to eating hefty servings —still fast, but nothing compared to the speed he started at — never failed to make your heart swell.

He sat down across from you once he gave you your plate too. Watching you for a few moments, watching your face as you ate, trying to understand what you were thinking. What everything ever meant.

"Simon." He was overthinking. Again. Your gentle timbre the only thing to snap him out of it. "What's going on?"

You only got a shake of his head as a response, brushing it off… of course he was. You sighed, wishing he would open up. "You know I wouldn't—" "Love." You nod, accepting the unspoken warning in his voice and drop it.

He doesn't know what's different about today. Something makes him linger on everything longer. Every little action you present, every gust of wind, it gets to his head.

He's eating slow, too, catching you off guard as much as much. Its like he's trying to taste every bit spice you used.

"What kinda meat is this?"

Your stomach drops. You're not sure how long you stay quiet for. Apprehension digs its claws into your back, crawling up until its whispering into your ear. Making you remember the last person that found out, the sheer disgust staring back at you.

The quiet scratch of his fork against the ceramic is the only sound in the room. He doesnt push you, doesn't question again.

He just waits for the thing he doesnt want to hear.

You twitch at the sound of his fork, jaw clenching. You try to speak past the blockage in your throat. The heavy feeling starting to weigh you down.

"Pork."

He doesn't believe it. You're immediately convinced he can call your bullshit.

"Fresh," you elaborate, hoping to save your own ass somehow. "Get it right from the butcher for meat days. Probably not like what you're used to." You pray to everything that is holy that you're bein convincing. It just has to be enough for him to drop it.

Brown eyes are staring right through you. The intensity of it makes you squirm. Your appetite replaced by a sinking feeling deep in your gut. You bite your tongue when he takes a deliberate bite of the meat.

"Pork, huh?"

It comes clean off. You taste it before you feel it. The familiar taste of iron coating the inside of your mouth, the heat off the thick substance coating your teeth. It tears at you. You want to hate it, you should, but you can't. It sends a thrill of excitement through you.

You swallow the tip of your tongue, literally. The piece muscle going down smooth, but you still wince at the new found sensitivity.

He questions you without words. Eyebrows raising before he switches up and they furrow in worry. "I'm okay."

Bull. As much as he want to, he doesn't call you out. Not yet. Suddenly he sees. Now he notices things.

It's been so easy to hide. Sex in the dark, never allowing him to see the scars littering your body, fingertips glide across them, feel the outlines and leave Simon wondering. But never had he spoken. Never had he accepted they're truly there, they're a part of you, and who you are.

Why does he have to ruin that now?

"Si…" a drop of blood spills past your lip, his hand reaches out, and you flinch.

You flinch?

Both of you freeze up. You because you don't understand why you did that, your husband had never dared, never even come close to laying a hand on you. You never had a reason to be afraid. Not even when he handled his guns carelessly, cleaning the cold metal in the peace of your home. You never felt afraid.

Simon's heart shatters. He feels like vomiting right then. Disgust rises in his chest, filling his lungs, and every breath feels undeserved now. Years of being together flashes in his mind, trying to find a reason for you to be afraid. To make this make sense.

His conclusion is that its just his nature. That no matter what he does, no matter how good he tries to be, deep down he'll always be cold and scary. A feral mutt who snaps at anyone and anything, someone whose fear turns to anger and makes them unbearable to be around.

He's disgusting and stained. And now its affecting you. He's ruining your very being.

Simon Riley —a man that people fear, a name thats spoken in whispers behind his speak with caution— tenses up when you stand up from your seat and approach. He doesnt fear you, he knows you have raged saved up in that sacred body of yours, but he'd take all your wrath without complaint. So even if you had the heart to beat on him, and throw nasty words his way he wouldnt be scared.

He is scared of the gentleness. The soft hand that meets his cheek, no harsh sting to it. Just warmth that spreads all throughout his body. His hands stay away when you sit on his lap, for now. Your weight doesnt have it's usual soothing effect. Somehow, someway this time it reminds him of your mortality.

Of the fact you had never been and will never be a guarantee. Coming home to you, alive, is a blessing. He should be more grateful, should be on his knees every night to thank you as much as God.

His finger slips past your lips when you part them to speak. The crimson fluid you keep trying to swallow having caught his eye. "What'd you do?" He asks reverently, its barely above a whisper.

You arch an eyebrow at him. How are you supposed to speak with his fingers inside your mouth, and how many things could've happen to cause this? Idiot. You swallow around the digits, clearly things up a bit.

He doesn't know how to act when he sees the tip of your tongue missing. He knows how he feels, the sheer worry almost knocking all air out of him. But you barely seemed distraught. You were acting like this was some paper cut you were nothing more than embarrassed about.

"Did you.. uh, your tongue?" You turn your head to get his fingers out off your mouth. And you laugh, quietly, just a few little amused huffs. You got this grown man stuttering over a bit of tongue missing.

"Dove," he utters, his face pinched tighlty together now. Trying to keep up with you, with this situation while his own emotions ran wild in his head. He could barely think straight, and you were not helping.

Something clicks. He can actually hear the pieces fall into place inside his head. How rare "meat nights" were, how dear to you they were, how you were almost always hurt when they came around… fuck, he should've questioned the taste sooner. It had never been pork, nor veal. It has always been too bitter. It had been easy to blame it on your cooking skills, that somehow you were good at cooking everything but meat. But he should've know better.

He should've never felt comfort in his ignorance.

He speaks your name, drawing your attention toward him again. Big hand comes down to rest on your thigh, just next to the bandage wrapped around the supple flesh.

"What— Christ, I don't even know how to ask this." He rubbed his free hand across his face, begging for some kind of composure. He's been fighting and analysing for a week straight, hadn't exactly expected to do the same once he came home. Everything felt so hazy and heavy, but he just needed his words to work. He just needed to hear the truth, process it at a later time if needed.

"Have I— we. Have we been eatin' flesh, birdie?"

Some logic stands steady within you. Telling you, admitting the truth would be a grave mistake, a repeated one at that. You'd end up in some ward again, even the crazies looking at you weird. You should lie yourself out of this, pretend he's the one being crazy.

But whatever fucked up part lives inside your head takes the reins. Tells you its okay. He's been enjoying your cooking. He doesn't mind your scars. And you know, he's fucked in the head, too. As if a man like Simon could ever judge a sweet thing like you.

He was the one with blood on his hands. You were clean, the only thing you ever hurt was yourself, you're just taking care of people!! You're good.

So, you end up nodding. Giving the affirmative to his question that he's been dreading oh so much.

"Why?"

"Why?" You echo back, the question being the last thing you expected. Why? That was a good question. Why didn't you have an answer? It always just made sense to you to do this, you didn't have to rationalise anything to yourself.

You didn't know why.

"Don't you like it?" What the fuck? Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised by the answer, obviously something was fucking wrong with you. "That's not the point." He scowls, bitterness creeping into his voice — disguised worry.

"You always ate it without complaint." You said that way too calmly. And you didn't even seem to realise. Or maybe you did, you just didn't know how to care.

"Fucking hell, luv," he stuttered, "Get off, please."

He was gonna leave. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! You'd done it again. Been yourself too much and now you would have to pay for it. "Honey…" it was a pathetic attempt of a plea. Trying to seem soft and gentle to his eyes again. Anything to stop him from leaving, or stuffing you into some asylum again.

But he didn't budge. His expression stayed firmly even as tears started to sting at your eyes. Even as every scar on your body started to burn, telling you what a fuck up you were, how destroyed you truly were, he didn't bat an eye.

You stared at his hulking frame when it left the kitchen, standing completely still as the creaking of the bathroom door echoed through the space of your apartment.

Things grew muffled as you sobbed, when your knees gave out and dropped you carelessly onto the floor. The sound of the shower running itched you in all the wrong ways. Made you wonder what he was doing in there. As if it were anything but showering. You begged on your knees, not knowing to who, but between the burning tears and the choking sobs it just made sense.

All the while he was conflicted with himself.

Some part of Simon had always known you were deranged, that you were deeply messed up. And he didn't mind. You were kind and gentle when you wanted to be, and you were good to him. Took care of him without any complaint ever. He loved every part of you, that was just a fact.

Unfortunately, that meant he even loved the self harming… cannibalistic part of you. And he wasn't sure how to deal with that. He should've been far more worried about you, about what kind of person was capable of that.

And all he found himself doing was enjoying how far you would go for him. You were mutilating yourself to feed him, to show him he was loved. It made his heart feel all gooey.

He knew it was wrong.

He's done so much. Killed so many. Ripped men by the limbs…

This could be worse, he decides.

He doesn't bother with clothes, or properly drying off once he hears your sobs through the closed door. He's out in a flash, tripping over air in his hurry to get back to you.

He didn't mean to get you all emotional, he didn't want you insecure, much less doubting this marriage. He just needed to think about himself for a second, rationalise his own feelings.

It all went out the window when he found you on cold floor, blood flowing down your arm,— nothing dangerous, just scratched open. Thank god— face puffy and your eyes all bloodshot. He's immediately picking you up, shifting you to lay bridal style in his arms. You mumble things he doesn’t hear, doesn’t want to nor need to, he knows it's some self deprecating bullshit that's gonna break his heart.

He lets you down on your shared bed. Crawling right on top of you. And before Simon can speak, your arms come up to wrap around his neck, pull him down with all your strength to lay on top of you.

His wetness soaks your clothes, he's still got some suds of shampoo in his blonde hair, and it doesn't matter. You just need him to stay, to feel all his weight crushing you to remind you that he's your husband. And he'll stay your husband, until death do you part. Right?

Right. His rough timbre enters your senses, promises you, "It's okay. Am not mad or nothin'. Just…" he sighs, not wanting to disclose his emotions and add to your worries. "'S alright."

You sob against his strong form for a while, he doesn't dare to try and shift into a different position, stays still as if he were sniping, only whispering quiet reassurances that barely reach your ears. He's trying to soothe himself more than anything at this point.

He feels the exhaustion the second it washes over you, when your breath starts to regulate, deep and heavy, but steady. When your arms slack and your body caves, giving into everything, releasing all the pressure. Or at least a lot of it.

He dares to move now. Look over your calming self, trace a calloused thumb along the drying blood on your arm. "Didn't mean to scare ya." You nod up at him, believing his words. Your eyes feel heavy, you're not ready to get into this. To face the reality of your secret being out. It's all too much, you're confused and hurt, have no idea how to behave, what to say.

Simon isn't sure either. He's just as worn out, just as addled.

"I wanna see."

He sees the questioning look you give him, "The scars," he clarifies.

"Oh."

You wouldn't argue, of course not. You were compliant, moving your body to help Simon gently slip of your clothes. He barely looked at first, focused on getting you bare without hurting you, eyes staying on your face to keep up with your level of discomfort, to whisper reassurance when it got too much. "Won't judge. Ever."

"Been hiding too damn long. You're my damn wife, an' I never seen you naked. Not right, is it?" Probably not, you shake your head no. Lips parting in a shy gasp when your panties came off at last.

As much as your head was screaming at you to hide — to at least cover yourself with your arms and look away— you didn't. Your lip trembled with uncertainty when his eyes slowly roamed over the length of your body. But you never tried to stop it.

His heart ached. It was physically hurting him, daring to break out of his chest right then and there. You were so beautiful, every curve, every mole, every dip, all of it was perfect. He hadn't doubted it.

Though, the man was enthralled with you, even if you had looked any different from his expectations, he doesn't think he would've complained. Just taken an extra minute to adapt.

But you were a beauty, through and through.

As much as it hurt to see the scars littering you, the hollows of missing flesh spread out across you, he loved you nonetheless.

"I'm sorry—" he shut you up by pressing his chapped lips against yours, swallowing the sweet sound escaping you.

It was time to return a lot of worship.

His hands were gliding across your body with awe, the callouses spread across his fingertips and palms adding to the feelings.

Of course, you've felt this before. You'd fucked plenty of times, had his hands all over you, his lips trailing along the exposed parts of you hungrily. But it had always been dark, and rushed. Both of you covered in too much horror to allow the other to see the truth extent of it. Staying hidden behind drawn curtains and switched off lights, was easy. Skipping over scars when you felt them, and never daring to mention they existed had just become a part of this relationship. To protect both of you.

But now it was time to change that.

He took his time for every scar. The one on your shoulder, already fading from its age, he still took the moment to kiss the raised skin, nip carefully at the skin next to it to see your squirm just a little.

He took a while for the two at your stomach, tweaking your hardened nipple with one hand as the other traced along the tender crater on your side. Feeling where it dipped and raised, how sensitive the area had gotten. It was precious to him.

"You're so fucking beautiful." He growled against your skin, trying to deal with the swimming thoughts.

"So perfect," you arched when his hot tongue came out, licking along the missing piece of flesh. "All this for me?" He didn't want an answer.

You couldn't even have given him one. Not when he pinched your nipple, while licking across the the area where you'd once bled, again. It messed with your mind. The pleasure, forced to combine with the shame of carrying burdens that would never fully dissappear, it was… odd.

"Look at what I'm doing, luv. Look at yourself," there was no room for argument in this tone. Your eyes followed his movements despite how tired you felt. How much effort every thought took you.

Barely even being able to comprehend he kissed the inside of your thigh, the newer scar blooming there— that piece had tasted good, you remembered how much he enjoyed it.

Clamping your thighs around his head when he kissed your warm cunt. Already pulsing with need, clit starting to peek out from beneath its hood. Only to be left abandoned when he kissed along the fresh bandage wrapping around your other leg.

"Si… don't tease," a desperate plea.

"Always so needy fo' me… 'M tryin' to show ya love, birdie."

But you sweet, sweet thing. You deserved to feel pleasure whenever you wanted, right? Who was he to leave you hanging?

No one.

He forced your legs to spread, just to give him more wiggle room.

Although it was no use, you immediately clamped down his head again when his tongue flattened against your pussy. The hard metal of his piercing making your hips buck almost instantly. "Shhhh." He shushed, pointlessly.

He digged his tongue between your moist folds poking at the entrance, feeling it clench—he knew the drill— trying to suck him in. "So eager."

His hands never stopped moving. Feeling for every piece of marred skin you carried, feeling it, wondering about it— how much it must've hurt, how you felt in the moment, and how it must've felt to see it heal— memorising it.

He never shyed away, no matter how deep, how fresh, how odd a scar felt, his hands stayed firm. Steady on you without being so rough it hurt.

It was enough to bring you to tears again. The gentleness and the teasing way he sucked his clit into your mouth, taking off just before you could get used to the feeling, it was driving you insane.

"Want you to promise me something..."

You just nod, trying to listen to what he has to say and not lose your shit while his skilled tongue pushes in and out of your dripping hole, mixing your arousal with his own spit. Making you moan at the metal gliding along your gummy walls, making you feel too much but not enough at the same time.

He pulls out, licking up until he coukd place a kiss against the pulsing bundle of nerves. "Stop."

"Stop?" You barely manage to question. He's allowing you to squirm for once. Usually he's always holding you down, forcing you to simply and only take it.

"Stop doing this. To yourself." His explanation is almost absent, brown eyes fixated on one of your scars, whole his hand plays with the edge of the bandage. "Love you feedin' me. I do. But Ah can't 'ave this. Can't have you hurting for me."

You want to argue, he can tell.

"Fucking promise me."

"I promise."

"That's my girl," his voice vibrates against your cunt, making you shiver once more. Trembling hand going into his hair to try and forve him closer, deeper. His crooked nose bumped your clit when his tongue pushes back into you, moaning at the taste that's so uniquely you. The taste that doesn't come from any pain.

He gets lost in it. His wandering hands move with no purpose, but with some soulful instinct to proof you that you are beautiful. No matter how many scars, society looks at you weird for, you own. To his body and mind you were a masterpiece, sculpted for him in every way possible.

☽｡⋆

You ignored his texts, figuring he would just try and talk you out of it if he knew the truth.

What are you doing at a bar?

Love?

You getting drunk?

C'mon now, what are you up to?

Answer me.

Tell me you're okay.

Your phone was just stuffed into your purse as you settled by the bar. Ordered some sickeningly sweet drink that you could nurse on while watching the men in this bar. Or maybe a women, maybe you'd get that lucky.

Your eyes wandered carefully, studying the people around you. The ones that sat alone, you weren't stupid enough to try to find someone in a group. You needed someone lonely, someone drinking their problems away, desperate to lay in someones else's bed for just a night.

Someone that wouldn't be missed.

It took a while, too long for your liking. But when he walked in all the time was worth it.

The tired expression, the slumped over form, stained work clothes, worn voice when it ordered a neat whiskey. And on top of it all the chub sitting around his body. Nice little tummy sitting against the dirty shirt, arms clearly strong but covered by a layer of fat. It made your mouth water, eyes darkening as they settled on him.

Thought out how to lure him, if he would fall easily or if you had to play the long game tonight.

But to your luck all it took was your eyes meeting across the dimly lit space for his face to flush red. Bartender handing you another drink soon after, "already paid for," she assured, eyes flickering over to the guy you'd been eyeing. You smiled his way, cheering your glass into his direction before taking a sip, never taking your eyes off him.

It wasn’t hard to get him drunk while staying sober, distracting him from your lack of drinking with fluttering eyelashes and soft laughs, acting like he was so very charming.

Didn't even need to use the drugs you brought.

He followed you to your car like an eager puppy. Fucking pathetic the things he was doing in hope of getting laid.

But it was perfect for you, so of course you played along. Driving him back to your place, hand on his thigh, glancing at him at every red light. Licking your lips with hunger that he was clearly misunderstanding.

He didn't even care when you insulted his idiocy under your breath, leading him to your bedroom with ease. He asked about plastic foil spread out across the bed, accepting your bullshit excuse for it. Too distracted by your hand on his chest, pushing him backwards until his knees hit the edge and he was forced to sit down on the crinkling plastic. "Soooo…" he slurred, blown pupils expectingly staring up at you.

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm gonna take care of everything." The knife clutched tightly in the hand behind your back was soothing, making you feel safe in the presence of this stranger.

His laugh was disgusting, it sends a shiver down all the way down to your bones. He was so sure he was gonna get his dick wet, when your legs straddled his thighs. As if.

"Woah! That a kink, eh?" This dumb-ass. Laughing at the sight of the nice, still thinking you were gonna give him exactly what he wanted. Who doesn't pull away at the sight of a knife gleaming in the yellowish light of the bedroom?

Who only lets their breath hitch when its pressed to their throat? Someone you hated. That's who.

When the metal sliced through the skin, letting you view the pinkish flesh before the slit turned dark with fresh blood he finally felt it. The fear.

The fear you could feed on as much as flesh. Your heart started racing, blood rushing to your ears, almost muffling the trembling breathing from the man beneath you. He couldn't even speak anymore. If that was caused by the alcohol running through him, or the dread and fear, you weren't sure. It didn’t matter.

The beads of sweat forming on his oily forehead, his fat chest rising and stretching against his chest made you thrive. The desperate gurgling when the knife finally hit the esophagus, slicing clean through the muscle and tissue brought you joy. You shivered at the sounds of air escaping through the streaming blood, drops forcing themselves into his airway, making him finally trash as breathing became painful.

Normally your strength would be nothing against a mans. But now as tears stung at wide and panicked eyes, he was nothing but a flailing body. The blood seeping from his throat without restraint, spurting farther than you had anticipated— damn, that wasn't gonna be a fun clean up— making him weaker with every moment that passed. It all made it easy to push him down, laying him on his back as he bled and tried to plead. Beg for life with whatever was left within him.

There was not an ounce of mercy in you. You felt nothing toward him, no spark of sympathy toward another human being.

You'd made a promise. And you wouldn't break it. You wouldn't disappoint your husband.

Once the body, all you see him as now, went from trashing and whining to silence and spasms you threw your blood stained clothes into a trash bag. Changing into some old ratty things that you could get rid of once you were done with this mess.

The tools were already prepared. Charts of what meat was best to use had been stored in your head years ago, the only research you had to do was how to preserve meat. Easy enough.

The urges gnawed on you, going from silent to whispers to screaming inside your head. Too much drool gathered in your mouth, making you swallow every few seconds. Peeling off skin was rough, it felt different from doing it on your own body, but the sounds were familiar, the way it splashed when it the ground to be discarded, you knew it well.

But the sight of the wet flesh, glistening in the artificial light, the squelching sounds when your knives poked around the yielding meat, it all got to your head.

Your stomach growled and you couldn't help it any longer.

Digging your hand into the slit open thigh, fingers curling into the tender flesh, feeling the muscle and tissue cave from the intensity. You felt the warmth in your palm when you ripped the flesh free, handful of meat going straight to your mouth. Covering your lower face in the dark fluids seeping from it.

Everything else was done in a haze after. The heavy feeling of food setting in your stomach, warming you up, and calming the raging the urges.

☽｡⋆

Simons stomach dropped when he sat down at the dinner table two days later. The meat on his plate looked too familiar, he could smell from a mile away it wasn't an animal plated there.

But you looked fine, he saw no injuries on you. And you swore, "I didn't break out promise." So what choice did he have but to believe you?

Tensing when he took a bite, letting it linger on his tongue, hoping to taste the truth.

"This isn't you." He wanted to sound confident in that statement, to be sure you hadn't hurt yourself again. But silently he was begging for it be right. For this to be something else… someone else?

"I told you, I didn't break our promise."

"I don't wanna know, do I?" You just shook your head no, diving back into your food, not even considering telling him what you'd done. It sated you, the slight bitter taste melting on your tongue, it was right.

For you.

Simon finished his plate and looked agitated. Something was wrong. "What?"

What the fuck was he doing? He had zero explanation for getting up from his chair and dropping down on his knees between your legs. This shouldn't even be an option, he should be terrified and guilty right now.

"Can I take a bite?" Not asking that. It was utterly deranged. He had forced you to stop hurting yourself, to stop making him a goddamn cannibal. And now he was asking for it. Fresh, unprepared. Just wild, nastier than a dog munching on a cadaver.

Knowing it had been anyone but you on his plate felt wrong. He wondered if that's how your urges felt, if they made you just as desperate for a taste. Poor thing.

Sweet thing. Never denying him anything, not even wanting to, you nodded firmly. Allowing him to tug down your pants, pooling at your ankle as he stared at the soft skin infront of him.

Guilt rose in his chest like oil threatening to drown him, thick and suffocating. It curled around his insides, growing tighter with every second that passed of him staring. That voice, his conscience or what was left of it, was screaming at him to stop, to back off, to not turn into this. But it was fading now, turning into a background noise as your scent drifted into his senses.

You looked so gentle. Even your thigh, marked with old scars and the hollow where flesh had once been spoke to him now with a new kind of pain.

All he could do was want.

He wanted to cry, wanted to feel the horror he knew he should be experiencing. But it wouldn’t come, maybe it couldn't anymore. The disgust stayed locked behind a wall of craving, a deep seated hunger, something that had taken root within his very being. He wished he had enough strength to still be the version of himself that never would’ve done this, the kind that was capable of controlling himself.

You cried out when his teeth broke through your skin. Your entire body tensed, a hand digging into his hair for a second, before his own came up and offered it to hold. To squeeze as tightly as you needed to while he fed on you. Like the monster he truly was.

He'd been thriving on your soul, your emotions. It was bound to end up physical eventually.

The day had just come sooner than he wanted it to.

But you gave no protests, you didn't hide the pain, laid it out in the open with no shame about tears stinging at your eyes, but you didn't attempt to stop him.

Never have, never will. Sweet thing.

He pulled away with a piece of your supple thigh slipping past his lips, disappearing into the cavern of his mouth.

It was obscene, the open wound dripping blood, surely ending up staining something. Simons lips shining dark red, the sound of him chewing joining your little whimpers in the calm of your apartment.

"I like you raw." It hit you like a train, you swore you almost passed out from the words alone. It was the uttermost confession of love in your eyes. He loved the dammed meatsack you were, the thing holding your soul, the thing allowing you to exist within this realm. He truly and unconditionally loved you.

"Take a bite, Dove." He offered, without hesitation. You'd done this for him, and it filled him with things he couldn’t explain. So, it was only right to give the feeling back, to bask in it with you.

Your smile was all teeth and blown out eyes when the offer registered in your head.

Sorry this took so long, hope it lives up to standards.

[oya-oya-okay]

.

[leotheponderer]

I did the thing!

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Not to pretend I'm no longer losin my damn mind or anythin but it does make me feel kinda sick now. Thinkin bout the way I was this close to convincing myself I'm (still) in love w/ him

[writerpeach]

Voracious

IVE An Yujin x Jang Wonyoung x m!reader

25k words

Part 10 of IVED Vanilla Latte

pick me up, daddy

That’s it. No please, no emoji. Just the assumption that you’ll drop everything and come running. And the worst part is—Yujin knows you will. 

So you grab the keys. Most people wouldn't be caught dead in this, the obscene price tag, absurdly polished leather interiors, the ostentatiousness of it all—

But the prying eyes can't help but stare from all sides once you pull into the parking lot. The way everyone looks, wondering who the hell would bring a Ferrari to a college campus, let alone a pink one—it's almost laughable.

Then again, when the roar of the engine hits, you have to admit sitting behind the wheel of this ridiculous thing makes you feel something—a strange sort of excitement. A power you can’t put your finger on, the urge to let your foot get carried away and peel right out of the parking lot. But the reason you’re here isn’t to show off or attract attention—you're here for Yujin.

Parked outside of the library, you don’t need to say a thing. Because who would miss a bright pink supercar showing up here? Not Yujin, not anyone, you're certain. 

This was the obvious choice, and she's not disappointed once she comes into view, emerging from the library doors and heading down the stairs with an amused smile. That's her in a dark hoodie and pleated skirt, legs bare despite the chill in the air, full thighs on display when she stops right in front.

Even in a snowstorm, this girl isn't going to wear pants. Not that you'd ever complain. 

"Really, daddy? The Ferrari?" Yujin asks as she slides right into the passenger seat, tossing her bag into the backseat. "When I said I needed a ride, this isn't exactly what I meant. This thing stands out like crazy."

"Sorry, it was either this or a cab. Just got whatever I could find the keys to."

Yujin doesn’t seem to mind the extra attention as she buckles the seat belt and rests her head against the cushion, kicking off her flats so she can rest her feet up on the dash. "And Wonyoung let you borrow this?"

You glance her way and just shake your head, starting the ignition and hearing that deep, powerful roar of the engine again. "You think I asked? She was still asleep by the time I left."

"You wore her out, didn't you, daddy? Poor thing." Yujin laughs and rolls the window down, tying her hair up into a loose ponytail.

"I didn't do anything. Woke up, went to class, then came home to grab this. When I left, she crashed on the couch. From studying too hard, I'm sure."

Yujin rolls her eyes, a hand covering her mouth to hide the obnoxious smile spreading on those pretty pink lips. "Yeah, sure. Wonyoungie studies—sure thing, daddy. Studying how hard you can fuck her, maybe."

You start to protest when the car pulls out onto the main street, pushing well above the speed limit. "She can't get through finals on her body alone. Everyone studies sometimes."

"She can sure try though. Maybe if there's an oral exam—"

"Both of you would probably ace that," you reply, hearing Yujin's delightful snort right after.

"Damn right we would. Top of the class, guaranteed." 

Yujin laughs again, head turning so she's facing you, enough to catch you staring at those long legs perched on the dash, her tight little skirt exposing so much flesh. She looks delicious, even in this casual outfit, but that's the case no matter the day, no matter the season or occasion. "Eyes on the road, daddy."

"Easy for you to say, brat.” 

Even caught red-handed, you have no intention to play dumb once Yujin is aware of the gaze you can’t take away from those scrumptious thighs. She crosses one leg over the other, giving this not-so-innocent little smile, with those dimples so prominent that it almost draws your eyes right off the road again. Almost.

"Poor daddy. Never able to focus around us. Must be awful, being trapped in a car with little ole me, wearing this short thing.” 

Yujin enjoys the tease, not moving her bare legs from that spot on the dash where they look right at home. She's playing with fire when that hoodie gets unzipped, exposing a black tank top riding high, showing off way too much midriff to go unnoticed. 

You sneak in another glance, one that lingers when you stare at those legs, and that deadly figure that has no right being so fit and curvy—your concentration’s worst enemy. "You really want me to crash this car, don't you? Wonyoung would kill me."

That playful smile widens, turning wicked. The hoodie gets tossed into the backseat without a thought, and the skirt—no doubt deliberately, rides higher up those thighs. 

"Then maybe you should watch the road instead of gawking, huh, daddy? Are my thighs that distracting to you?"

You have no response, although there's plenty of temptation to pull over, throw Yujin down on the backseat and make her moan, scream your name so loud everyone passing by can hear. But you need to keep those thoughts locked away, staying focused on the road—a battle that's not exactly fair with Yujin making it more difficult.

"I'm not distracted,” you scoff, not sure you even believe your own words. “Nothing you do could distract me—not your thighs, not your pretty face, not even your tight little ass. We're almost home, Yujinnie. I can give you all the attention you need then."

Yujin looks almost giddy. Delighted, really, being dared to destroy your composure. You’re not threatened, because what more can she do but sit there and look like a delicious feast, begging to be devoured?

You'll find out, you wager. 

Once the car stops at a red light, the windows roll back up when the chill starts creeping in. The click of her seat belt is the first warning, the second when Yujin starts crawling across the center console, inching closer to your lap. What can only be described as your fault—giving Yujin a perfect opportunity to see if you really have the power to focus or not. 

"Nothing I do would distract you, hm? Then I'll show you how distracting I can be..."

There's no escaping this—not with the light still red, traffic frozen. Yujin looks downright ravenous in this position, the delicious arch of her back while her fingers get a little too familiar with the zipper to your pants.

"Yujin—"

"Just focus on driving, daddy. Don't mind me.“ 

There's no way she's seriously going to do anything—and yet, right as the light changes to green, Yujin tugs that zipper down, unbuttons your pants, and slips her hand straight into your boxers. "No accidents, please. Would hate to total this fancy thing."

She says this the very second her delicate fingers wrap tightly around your shaft and start stroking, just slowly enough to bring you to complete hardness. It's this moment that you regret challenging Yujin to her own game. It's when she pulls your cock right out, pumping in agonizingly slow strokes that force you to stare at the road, no matter how difficult it is.

"This isn't too distracting, is it?" Yujin asks, and even without looking over, you know there's a grin on her face. You almost refuse to answer, hands on the steering wheel gripping tight, foot just a bit harder on the pedal. 

"N-no, not even a little bit. This isn't distracting at all."

 Oh, you'll probably regret that the second the words leave your lips. Not that Yujin needs the encouragement. She could have you a mumbling mess of heavy breaths even without a challenge.

"You sure about that, daddy? Don't you need to pull over because your cock is getting too hard?" Yujin isn’t going to hold back, you know that already, and you can already feel the struggle, the way her thumb rubs such a lazy circle against your sensitive head. 

You won't give her the satisfaction just yet, staring straight ahead to keep these tantalizing thoughts from running rampant. Nor are you going to taunt her more than you should.

That mouth is the worst possible distraction.

You've got little choice but to push onward as Yujin pumps steadily, tight grip never yielding, and you can sense those dangerous lips inches from your swollen cockhead, hot breath grazing far too close. But the only person you have to blame for this is yourself, for springing your own trap in the first place—you should have known better by now. So now, you'll have to endure whatever she decides to put you through, throbbing between her fingers, knowing she won’t stop just teasing and tormenting you to no end.

"Daddy—take the long way home. I'm having a little too much fun over here," she hums as her hand pumps with this adorable giggle, and the worst part is you're far too reluctant to tell her no. "Take the longest route you can think of—or better yet, just take a couple laps around campus. Drive real slow for me."

You shouldn't. That's a fact and the voice in your head is yelling that exact message. Yet it's quiet compared to Yujin's innocent request, the little flicks of her tongue along your slit, warm breath all against the tip of your dick. With all that you have, you take a deep breath and oblige Yujin. It's a little absurd to realize your own control in this situation, even more that you're heading back in the same direction from before so she can drive you more insane.

Sighing is the only response. This is only the start of what you're in store for—because this is Yujin you're dealing with, and no telling what sort of chaos her devious mind will have in store. Her hand is more confident now as she strokes faster, almost as a reward, twisting around, squeezing tight. 

"Make sure you signal," Yujin reminds you in this mocking tone that gets your teeth gritting as she applies the smallest kiss right on your leaking tip. As if that's what matters most. "Wouldn't want to be in any accidents on account of me, now do you?"

Before you can even finish the next turn, her mouth is on you—lips parting around your cock without warning, sinking down in one swift, hungry motion. That warmth engulfs you as she takes you deep, all the way to the back of her throat, your grip on the wheel tightening as she pulls off with a wet gasp and plunges right back down. 

"Jesus, Yujin—" you groan, knowing the next breaths you take are bound to be a struggle. One hand grips tight on the wheel while the other reaches down, tangling in Yujin's hair so you can force her head further down. She makes this muffled moan when her lips press flush to the base of your cock, throat so deliciously tight—so fucking warm that you can hardly focus on anything but that perfect fucking mouth. 

Another turn has you passing by the science building, where Yujin takes your cock deep without pause, bobbing her head, tongue dragging along every sensitive part. And contrary to your previous belief, it's far too distracting. Far too fucking difficult to stay focused while Yujin slurps your cock, without any reservations, humming through every inch she swallows whole. 

"You're insane, Yujin," you hiss out through clenched teeth. "Do you know that? Fucking insane."

Nothing but those cute, playful little giggles echo in the car as she gets you nice and coated with her spit. "I know." 

Your eyes stay glued on the road as much as you can manage, until you can't anymore, close to losing it when her mouth finds your balls and her tongue lavishes each. And if you weren't following the speed limit by the book, you're not sure how you'd survive this—

Yujin’s warm fucking mouth working its magic feels too good, her spit glistening all over your swollen shaft as her mouth sinks down your cock with such practiced ease. Up and down—a long slurp, back up to the swollen head to swirl that tongue along the most sensitive spots she knows so well, then down once more. Those silky lips sink further down your length, sucking in deep breaths whenever her nose isn't buried in your crotch, and you have to fight every urge to let the car drift when she gets too carried away. 

All while you're waiting for some oblivious pedestrian walking by with no idea you have your cock lodged balls deep down Yujin's throat. Another long slurp is too much—especially as you head further away from the quieter side of campus. 

"God, that fucking mouth," you groan in pleasure, unable to keep your focus on the road while Yujin takes you so fucking deep, holding you there for a few tortuous, excruciating moments. Only coming off your throbbing cock when she has to suck in the faintest hint of air.

"This is your fault, daddy, can't deny it feels good. Or are you too distracted while I'm choking down this massive cock?” Yujin mumbles through a series of sloppy, audible kisses, those perfect lips finding all the best spots. "Mmmph—it's okay, you can admit it.”

Not a fucking chance. You can hold on, ignore the warm lips sliding back up, the flicks of her tongue over the sensitive underside—you can stay calm until Yujin is trying to get every inch down the slick entrance of her throat, bobbing and slurping loudly, to really drag that groan out.

Or maybe you can't.

Not when she's so intent on swallowing your shaft, licking up and down, kissing every spot she likes so much. One hand squeezing at your balls. You can try to pay attention to anything else—a car, another street, another person in front of you, but nothing is helping. You barely have it in you to resist the urge to just pull over and fuck her throat until there's not a drop left in you to shoot.

"How's that focus?" Yujin asks, interrupting your thoughts as she breaks away for just a moment, only to drag her tongue down the whole length in one long stroke. Your knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel, her moans so filthy the whole time she sucks your cock. It's everything, and too much at the same time, the warmth of her mouth just too much to endure.

And now you're stuck waiting at a red light, right by the admission office where anyone could see you with your cock out, buried to the hilt in Yujin's inviting throat, taking it without any shred of hesitance. At least the interior is so dark that nobody should notice anything outside—it's only obvious when she raises her head up that the sunlight catches the shine on her greedy lips from the sheer amount of spit dripping down her chin.

"You're unbelievable, Yujin, seriously. You and that bratty fucking mouth," you grumble out, wishing that traffic would hurry up. 

"Me? You're the one who couldn't stop drooling over my legs the whole time. If anyone's to blame, it's you, daddy."

The light turns green again. You don't get a chance to argue when Yujin's back to blowing you. Just putting on the most sloppy, vulgar, reckless, indecent fucking display you've ever seen. "Almost there, aren't you? Better find us somewhere to park real quick then. If you can, with that dick so hard and buried in my throat."

You should have known this would be nothing but hell. 

Not that you're not getting any less close—maybe even closer, despite every effort you make to pay attention. The closest lot ends up being the rec center, and that'll have to do. You manage to swerve in, parking right in the back row through every motion that gets your shaft rammed harder in her warm little mouth.

"Should have made you fucking walk," you growl as you unbuckle your seat belt, finally able to enjoy Yujin's undivided attention. 

"Daddy would never make a pretty girl like me walk," Yujin says as her hand gives your cock a squeeze, those dimples coming out while she smiles like a smug brat. With the engine cut, the windows up—there's not much keeping you from giving Yujin what she wants and more. But the glance out the side mirrors confirms how risky the whole situation is, and nothing makes her happier than that. 

You’ve been through the ringer. This fucking desperate urge to unload inside that pretty fucking mouth, and watch her smile through tears and hot streams of white spilling from her lips. But she doesn't let you cum—pulling her mouth away at the last minute with an unashamed lick of those lips.

"Yujin, why the fuck do you think I parked, if you're not gonna swallow—" you snap in this low growl, wishing you had her mouth back where it was. But her lips remain closed—only parting for a giggle when she climbs back across the passenger seat, bare legs stretching across and feet meeting to rest in your lap.

"Because it's more fun to tease you like this," she quips, then presses her toes right against the head of your cock. There's nothing in the way anymore—an abrupt gasp when she slots you right in between her silky feet and squeezes. "Don't worry, daddy, this'll get the job done too. All the hard work I put in doesn't need to go to waste."

You can't say this is entirely unexpected—or unsatisfying in any case, how perfectly your cock fits between those delicate arches. How the friction sends these chills through you the second Yujin slides her gorgeous red painted toes up and down the head, slow, calculated, not needing much power or force behind her movements. They feel so goddamn good, so soft against your cock with that wide smile on Yujin's pretty lips.

“F-fuck—“

Those are the noises Yujin wants, the desperate moaning, watching you try to hold on as much as possible—as if she already doesn’t know this is where she needs you to spill. That's why her toes are on your dripping slit, gripping hard and rubbing slowly with an evil giggle.

"Gonna make you cum,” she simply says in her most innocent, adorable voice, like there isn’t a choice in the matter. The act doesn't match the expression on her face, not with those painted toes working magic as they tighten and flex to force out more moans. "Just relax, daddy—you deserve this. After being so patient, so very not distracted... "

Yujin won't relent, nor is she afraid to use whatever she needs, looking far too comfortable while she alternates pressure and teases this extra sensitive spot against the head of your cock. No more games, no more drawn-out moments where you're about to explode, but still hold back. 

"God, please—" you can only beg as her feet squeeze a little tighter, this deadly combination of her pillowy soles and long, perfect toes, every inch being stroked to perfection in ways you can’t fathom. 

Your moans sound so pathetic and Yujin doesn't give you time to speak any more, shifting forward until she keeps your cock trapped, one foot holding you firmly in place, while her other one keeps jerking off the head with relentless, nonstop strokes, painted toes all around your aching cockhead. Again and again, so merciless, your slit drooling over her toes and the bottom of her foot, so soft, all slippery and warm it’s not going to take much longer. 

“Look at your cock, daddy. It looks so good throbbing between my pretty feet. It’s so easy to get you off this way, isn’t it?” 

There’s nothing you can do but watch. Your gaze locked at how her toes grip your shaft, the soft sole of her foot gliding along, cock so impossibly hard when she presses down on the sensitive tip. “G-gonna—“

And then you explode. Your dick throbs, your head falls back, and you groan like Yujin has never heard before as your seed bursts across the top of her feet. Hot streaks color her painted toes, spilling more with every unyielding stroke, one burst after the other as she milks out as much cum as she can with a proud smile.

When it’s all finished, you're a shaking mess, one that Yujin revels in, arching that foot to collect what still oozes out. She never takes her eyes away as it drips everywhere, across her beautiful red polish, already getting between her toes that have yet to stop stroking. 

"There you go, daddy. Making such a mess on my pretty feet," Yujin praises, rewarding your efforts by easing the pressure around the head of your pulsating cock—then admiring the sight, a creamy white clinging to her toes, smearing it all over every part of her feet. "And I didn't even have to use my mouth."

"F-fuck, you're too good at that—"

"Of course I am," is all she can respond, all confidence and no shame in it. “Daddy should know I wouldn’t ever let him leave the car without blowing a huge load.”

That's the whole problem with her. How fucking addictive she is—how she can make you cum with any part of her body she chooses. And now here you are, with her sticky feet resting on your lap while you catch your breath.

"O-okay, we can head to the apartment now—Wonyoung is probably wondering where her car is..." 

Yujin seems to pay no attention as her red-polished toes curl and massage your cock for another moment, amused by how you've splattered her feet all over with your load. "Oh, daddy. As if I'd ever give your cock a rest. Wonyoungie can wait."

There's something delectably sinister about Yujin's tone, especially after you've thought this is over. Because it’s far from. The smirk that follows proves it, especially when your oversensitive cock can’t stop throbbing under that merciless rub.

"I wore this skirt for a reason, daddy, not just so you can drool and stare at my legs," 

Before you can even think of an answer, Yujin’s already sitting up, hand slipping beneath that tight little skirt and hiking it above her waist. You already know what’s next. She hooks a finger into her lace thong, and drags it down to show off the soaked mess she’s made of it, then tosses it carelessly into the backseat. 

You get an eyeful, drinking up every filthy little detail—her cunt bare, soaked, and on full display.

"My cunt needs your cock," Yujin growls, a demand that won’t go ignored no matter how sensitive you might still be. ”More than my mouth. Don't leave this pussy neglected, daddy. Need to fucking fill it up. Put a load in me until it’s dripping all over this seat.” 

Yujin makes her way across with one coordinated motion. That deadly skirt stays on as she climbs into your lap, thighs spreading around you with ease as she shifts her weight and finds the lever under the seat to lower the back until it's to her liking. You can’t take your eyes off her, even more so than usual. In fact, it's impossible not to watch, now that you don't have to concentrate on steering a multi million dollar car through campus. 

"You're really testing the limits today, aren't you, brat?"

Yujin responds to that with the only way she knows—she guides your shaft between her dripping lips, the head teasing just inside for only a few moments. "I don't believe in limits, daddy. Gonna fuck you right here, in this car, right in the school parking lot. If anyone sees—even better."

And it's not like you can do a damn thing to stop her. The moment her hips lower and your cock slips past her tight entrance, there's little else you ca do  but look in her eyes while she rides the absolute fuck out of you. Little else to do when every part of you is quickly enveloped in the intoxicating warmth of her soaked little cunt. 

In Wonyoung's car.

In the front seat, no less. 

In plain sight of whoever might be looking.

But Yujin gives not a single damn, and you don't get the chance to before her hips bounce up and down, dragging you all the way in, before rising up only to slam right back down. "You'll never get enough of me, daddy, never will, will you? Not me, not my tight cunt, not my thighs, and definitely not cumming deep inside me—“

It's so good it feels wrong, sitting in someone else's car, watching this girl bouncing so desperately in your lap. The squelch is unmistakable with Yujin's perfect, wet pussy swallowing every inch. 

"Fucking hell, Yujin, go slow. I just fucking came—"

But the look on her face tells you exactly what you should already know. That this is gonna happen the way she wants it, rough, desperate, your poor cock forced to go through it. There's a thirst in Yujin that's a bottomless pit, and you're not enough to appease it. That’s impossible.

She rides your cock like she's starving for it. Up and down, hard slams of her hips, making sure you feel every movement while her fingers tangle through your hair.

"Slow? Don't even know what that word means. Your cock too sensitive, too drained from emptying such a huge load on my pretty little toes? Must be," she says, then shuts you up when she grinds her hips back down, dragging you as far in as physically possible, hitting your cock against her cervix while that smile goes lethal.

“Of course, you little fucking brat."

She gasps in faux surprise at the words—before you get a squeeze in, grope her plump ass and spread open her cheeks a little, where your cock impales so deeply. Not once does the pace fade, and her hands tug at the hem of your shirt so she can pull it right off, joining the heap of discarded clothing in the backseat. Zero shame in anything she does. 

“Only fair I get something to stare at now, isn’t it? Need something to drool over when I bounce on your thick fucking cock."

You couldn’t agree more, as your hands move up and explore her body, the sweat on your fingertips only adding fuel to this already burning desire that can’t be cooled off. 

 "Fuck, Yujin, the way your pussy fucking devours my cock—"

“And your fat cock drives me crazy," Yujin moans out through each desperate bounce. Her hands find your chest, fingers digging in, every inch of Yujin dripping for the way you stuff her tight cunt. "Love daddy's huge, hard cock. Need it to fill this greedy cunt more than anything."

Yujin brings her mouth crashing back to yours, unable to resist any longer, teeth nipping your bottom lip. It draws this pathetic noise from your lips, but she's right back into it, her hips never ceasing while she continues to bounce, to sink your cock inside the warm depths of her wet cunt.

Her mouth and that tight cunt have far too much control over you. Too dangerous, too good. You could kiss these pretty lips for hours—could plow into her soaked entrance forever, thrusting up with your hands squeezing those wide hips, until you have no energy left in your body. 

"Feel my pussy gripping all of your thick fucking cock, daddy? Feel how wet you get me, even after you covered my pretty feet all over?" Yujin continues, a barrage of sin and lust that gets you more worked up with every syllable. 

"Brat. Love when you talk like that. Say it again, tell me what my cock does to you."

That mouth knows you far too well by now. Knows how much you adore that dirty mouth, and Yujin couldn't play along more perfectly. Her moans drown out the rest of her words for a moment—moans she gives when your cock pistons upward, hitting every angle. 

"You make me so wet. Fucking love daddy's huge cock stretching my pussy open. L-love it when these balls feel so heavy and slap against me when you thrust—" Yujin spares no details, nothing left unspoken, getting so sweaty while the windows fog and every inch is slick and smothered. 

Fuck, this girl is a dream. A force far beyond anyone's ability to contain her, you think, considering her voice alone is threatening to take you apart with little effort. Those words continue right into your ear while her tongue drags its way out to lick along your earlobe, getting another pitiful groan out of you,

"Love daddy pounding my wet cunt until he fucking creams deep inside. Love knowing daddy always fills my womb full with a huge load..."

"Love when you ride me like you can’t control yourself," is what you say, and give her tight ass a squeeze, bucking up into her when it's just so easy to.

That just makes Yujin bounce harder—your hips moving just to keep up, slamming upwards to meet with her delicious wet warmth that can’t stop devouring your entire cock. 

When Yujin grabs the hem of her tank top, it’s the kind of anticipation you’d never get tired of. Even when she doesn't fully remove it, no—just bunches it up over her bra, because that's just as satisfying, giving a good enough look at that gorgeous skin, enough cleavage and detail of her toned abdomen and everything her tank top doesn’t reveal. It's plenty.

Yujin likes being seen, loves showing her body off, even while her cunt takes and takes. 

And you take, too—mouth locking onto the curve of her throat, sucking hard at the heat-slicked skin. You know she won’t cover the marks after, not a chance. She’ll wear them like a trophy. That alone gives you permission to go all in, to leave proof of every bite, every bruise, every bit of payback for all the teasing she’s made you endure.

"D-daddy," Yujin mewls into your ear, pressing you closer against her, with nothing to hold her back while she bounces relentlessly.

You bite down hard to cut her words off and let that whimper simmer. 

More of this is inevitable. You can see the appeal of this, skipping class just to bury yourself inside Yujin in the backseat. A quick blowjob before lab doesn't seem quite so unattainable. Neither does her climbing into the car after lunch, especially if these slutty little skirts have something to do with it. 

"What would Wonyoung think? Seeing this pretty pussy dripping cum all over her nice car?” There’s a laugh when Yujin whimpers, her tongue flicking at the shell of your ear, salacious moans filtering into every little space they can. 

"She'd probably ask where the camera was," Yujin counters, snorting through her soft little moans. That pussy of hers squeezes hard, holding your throbbing length captive in this incredible heat and not letting go. There's no fucking escape—only these rapid, relentless motions and Yujin's full hips working overtime. 

"Both of you," you sigh, head tilted back against the cushioned seat and lost in the moment. "Are going to be the end of me. The absolute end."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, daddy. Two pretty sluts keeping your balls drained—such a rough life for you. It must be so hard getting to wake up with two sloppy mouths wanting their breakfast," Yujin laughs. "How cruel, am I right?"

When she says it out loud, you really have nothing to complain about, do you? Not a single fucking thing. Both her and Wonyoung happy to get their throats fucked every chance they get—bent over and taking it, filled to the brim or left covered in cum. There's not a real downside. 

Those perfect asscheeks bouncing in your lap interrupt the thoughts, an unending tempo, your throbbing cock impaling Yujin's cunt while those thick thighs put in the work, speeding up the process. This really isn't so bad after all. You can't help staring, those lips parted when she hits deep, the only time that mouth ever shuts up. This visual perfection riding your cock like it belongs to her, tits almost spilling out of her bra from the impact, tongue never denying you its presence. 

“Daddy, g-give me—“ Yujin doesn't finish as her moans turn deeper, get all breathy while she leans against the steering wheel and gets leverage, trying to swallow you even deeper. "Need this fucking cum inside me."

"Then fucking take it already, you greedy little slut."

That earns a rather hard, brutal slap on her ass, these noises loud enough to draw attention from outside—attention you'd welcome at this point. Yujin takes every inch of your cock with every perfect bounce, her cunt tightening impossibly more as her thighs tense and give you everything she's got.

"That's it, daddy, right fucking there—gonna make you shoot so deep inside of me. Need your fucking cum deep in this little cunt. Can't get off if you aren't filling me with so much it leaks everywhere."

"You're insatiable, Yujin," you say, both praise and accusation, getting closer and closer by the second. 

"That’s why you love me, daddy. And your balls are just begging to empty inside me. Can tell the moment I sink onto this perfect cock. You’re just as greedy as my pussy is.” 

Once again, she’s never wrong. Your next climax is so near you can taste it. You’re rather proud how long you've lasted buried in this wet fucking heat, but even then, a little part of you wishes for it to keep going, to show Yujin up and prove you’re capable of much more. Impossible, of course. When her cunt feels like heaven, the wetness that engulfs and suffocates your shaft, there's just no resisting. 

"L-Love feeling daddy so deep,” Yujin pauses to moan out, slamming down, ass crashing back against your thighs, that slick heat taking all you have to offer. One more harsh slam makes her quiver, every squelch echoing. "Every fucking inch splitting me open—"

There’s nothing left for you to do but groan out, before you can't take any more, when your cum pours into Yujin, when your balls tighten and spill their heavy load.

Shot after shot into her dripping cunt, so deep, thick streams erupting inside that tight wet flesh clenching tightly around your cock. Fuck, her tight cunt deserves it, so does Yujin, for the way she keeps fucking bouncing while that delicious pussy just can't stop swallowing your load.

There's so much. Far more than usual, despite already having cum once before. Every heavy shot adds to the growing mess, but she refuses to let you escape, just keeps bouncing in your lap, just keeps wringing everything out. She can't contain a thing—and clearly doesn't even try, milking out all that thick cum, all sticky and hot inside, so eager to drip down your shaft.

"S-so good, daddy," Yujin breathes out while all that cum goes right down her insides, clamping around your length as it continues to throb with each new spurt, sending so much into her tight entrance that you're a shaking mess. "All this thick fucking seed where it belongs. So much, fucking fill me up. Nothing better."

Yujin is taking it harder than you are when her tight body quivers through every little sensation, all too much for her clenching walls to endure when her orgasm rips through her. She can't stop clinging to you, each shudder stronger than the last—with no concerns for anything other than how fucking deep she has your load pouring, helping it sink all the way to her womb.

When Yujin collapses and finds your neck to hide away in, burying her head there, you pull her closer. Move all that messy hair away to feel the sweat clinging there too, her breathing ragged, panting right into your ear.

“Can't believe you came that much. You’re still throbbing.” 

It takes a while to form any proper response while Yujin just basks in the afterglow, not about to move a muscle, either. And now she seems quite comfortable with that.

"You were riding my cock hard," you mumble, wanting to lay back and collapse right here in the front seat of this expensive car with Yujin, listening to the sounds of cars driving by outside while you do.

"Oh, poor daddy. Did I break you?" Yujin laughs at your state—heaving out a mutual exhausted groan as her cunt squeezes one more time in a futile effort to milk out more cum.

"Always do, every damn time, Yujinnie." That gets a wider smile when she leaves one more messy, uncoordinated kiss, her lips trailing along your jawline for a moment. "This was—such a terrible fucking idea." 

Yujin says nothing for the moment, not with your cock buried and this fucking mess starting to drip out of her tight cunt. And even in the heat of the car, the windows a little too fogged up from the effort, you don't bother moving from this position. 

"The best kind of terrible idea. Like daddy always loves."

She looks gorgeous, even when sweaty, and it's a view from so close you can't take your eyes off. With this alluring mess of her hair, strands of dark locks sticking to her forehead, skin all glistening and sticky and still catching her breath while she stays there, you'd lick her clean without hesitation if there's even the slightest strength left. 

"Fuck, you're crazy," is all you can get out, giving Yujin's ass another hard slap, making the soft flesh jiggle.

"Yeah? Crazy for this huge fucking dick that ruins my guts—" 

You roll your eyes, not expecting anything less, even as her words hold a bit of that exhaustion. Yujin laughs and kisses the tip of your nose, trailing her lips down to steal a few pecks at the corner of your mouth, barely enough to call this a kiss.

"Get off me, so I can get us out of here. Before someone sees." The least you can do is suggest it, but you know the words do nothing to dissuade Yujin as she looks at you in amusement. "Yujin, this isn't a suggestion—fucking move, you brat."

All Yujin does is keep her arms around you, grinning wide without a care in the world. 

"What if I don't wanna? What are you gonna do, carry me out of the car with your dick still in my cunt? I'd rather have you stay stuffed inside my tight little pussy a little longer..."

It's these moments that confirm you'll never really defeat her, and Yujin fucking loves the victory of that. Being stubborn and giving you absolutely nothing you ask for. So you sigh, and shift around, gritting your teeth a bit harder when Yujin has nothing more to do but sit there with a wicked expression. "Yujin, please. Get off?"

That doesn't get any movement on your part, and Yujin takes pleasure in her non-compliance. In every desperate, pathetic moment while her lips remain teasingly close to yours, leaning in to cup your face. "But I just did.” 

Insufferable. 

"Brat."

She nods in response, like the word is supposed to offend, to somehow deter her from acting any more like herself. Like that's ever fucking worked. 

So if words don't work, there's no other option than to try to force her off. Which goes about as well as a pink Ferrari in a  parking lot at not attracting attention. The moment you bring your arms to those overworked hips, she catches your wrists and holds them up above your head. "Nuh-uh, daddy. Don't want to get up—so we're staying like this."

You're too weak, too exhausted to offer any real resistance, especially with the way she's looking at you—the sweet, innocent stare that is anything of the sort. As per usual, you’ll accept defeat, only giving her a small glare and sinking back against the car seat. But you at least get the chance to start the car back up and begin blasting the cold air through the vents, too tired to deal with any of Yujin's antics. 

So you’ll just sit here, exhausted and sweaty, with your cock trapped inside Yujin’s messy warmth, hoping not a single person is around. You're half tempted to drive like this, pants still around your ankles, with this impossible girl still seated on top of you—but you can't even see over the steering wheel, nor can you reach the pedals. 

For now, there's just silence. Yujin's pretty smile, these soft kisses along your cheek that are as gentle as you need them to be. Maybe it's the lingering high, the lack of energy, the smile that can’t stop off her face. This does feel nice, to just bask in the attention, and you'd savor it just a bit more—

Until the screen lights up and flashes an incoming call—it's Wonyoung.

"Speak of the devil. Probably missing you," Yujin chides, leaving you only to sigh and hesitate. You lean forward and put it on speaker, and within seconds you hear that familiar voice echo through the car. 

"Daddy—did you steal my car or did Yujin? Where the fuck are you?" 

There's not much more than a low laugh before you answer. "Which car would that be? You have like, a dozen or more—"

Yujin has to stifle a laugh, pressing her hand over her mouth and trying her hardest not to let Wonyoung know about her presence. You aren't going to tell her that she's here and still keeping you nice and cozy with her tight fucking cunt—not yet.

"The fucking Ferrari—what else? Did you take it out? Are you driving it? Daddy—"

You sigh, running your hand up Yujin's bare thigh to play with the skirt around her hips, getting a little grab of that tight ass to make her squirm. "No idea what you're talking about, princess. I'm just studying, here at the library. Maybe Yujinnie borrowed it."

Her palm slaps your arm—a reaction you saw coming the moment you threw Yujin under the bus. At this point, it doesn't matter who takes the fall because Wonyoung knows either of you are a suspect. 

"Uh-huh. You two do realize cars can get tracked, yeah? It shows where you are on the app—and right now my car is in the fucking parking lot right across the rec center," Wonyoung explains, the fury in her voice a little bit louder each word. "I swear to god if you two took my fucking car and—"

The call suddenly drops when Yujin presses the 'end call' icon. Which finally lets her take a deep breath and sigh, that boisterous laughter filling up the entire car once she gets the opportunity. "Tracked, huh? Who knew?" 

Yujin's a little too carefree with that information. Wonyoung is surely rushing on her way right about now, knowing for sure you have her precious car right at your fingertips. That's the final encouragement Yujin needs to move, to lift off you, a groan leaving when she’s empty. 

Her hands tug her tank top back down, taking a little too much time crawling into the passenger seat—so you can gawk at her body from behind, that delicious ass sticking out so shamelessly while your load trickles down those thick thighs. 

It doesn't stop once she slides back into the seat. Not even a single attempt to clean herself up while her cunt drips over the expensive, premium leather, like she enjoys leaving evidence of what the two of you did inside.

"Daddy, stop staring and drive already," Yujin says when she catches the momentary stupor, tossing your shirt back to you while sliding the seat belt comfortably over her frame. "We have to get your spunk out of the seats before Wony finds us..."

"My spunk? What about the fucking mess between your legs you made? It's fucking everywhere—"

“Don't worry about the details, daddy.” Yujin can't stifle another laugh while she adjusts her skirt and throws her legs back up onto the dash, shameless as ever. And those lace panties are a lost cause. 

The engine growls as you floor it out of the parking lot, with somehow not a single person around to witness exactly what transpired. "Maybe next time don't fucking drain me empty in the fucking front seat. Someone could have seen—"

"If someone saw us," Yujin cuts in with another giggle and that devilish smirk returning. "Then they should've said thanks."

You don't even have the energy to roll your eyes. So, while keeping a watch on the side mirrors for Wonyoung following behind, you head towards the nearest car wash, which is right down the street. Where hopefully, you can get rid of all the evidence of the crimes you've committed in her precious car. "Tell the brat to meet us at the apartment in ten minutes. I'll deal with her—"

Sure, that means admitting Yujin is to blame just as much, but there's no point hiding anything at this point. For now, you’ll focus on what the hell the two of you have to do to clean out her seats without raising suspicion.

"Already one step ahead of you, daddy. Told her to give us thirty and you're taking her out for ice cream. She'll forget about everything with the promise of sweets." Of course, Yujin's got the solution figured out to a problem she caused. 

"Bribery solves everything with her. I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

"I think we've established that reason is my charming personality and smile. Oh, and my tight ass." 

"Obviously. Your ass is definitely number one."

Back at the apartment, you drop Yujin off and take a moment for one last inspection, making sure the car looks perfect from every angle. By the time you return, Wonyoung is nowhere in sight, which means, thankfully, you’ve got a few precious minutes of peace left before she'll barge in and demand answers.

Yujin changes into a comfortable pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt, no time to shower as she joins you on the couch. 

"Do you think she's going to buy it, daddy?" Yujin asks, lying on her stomach with her phone in hand, trying to appear as casual as possible, like you've both been here for hours and didn't just defile Wonyoung's priceless car.

"Absolutely fucking not, Yujin."

It doesn't surprise you when you hear a beep, Wonyoung having unlocked the door and storming right in as she drops her bags on the floor, not even bothering to remove her heels as they clack against the wooden floor. "Okay, whose bright idea was it? Which one of you took my—"

Yujin, who can never hold back her laughter at the best times, is the first to speak up. "Took what? Your car? Princess, it's still in the parking garage, can't believe you're accusing us." 

Folded arms, raised brow, it’s the whole package. Wonyoung seething the moment she walks in. 

"Alright, if you two wanna play dumb, we can play dumb. I'll go check the footage—that'll show the truth." 

That only leads to Yujin laughing again, and this isn't going the way either of you had planned. "Daddy, Wony thinks she's got the evidence. Do you believe that?"

You're not even going to begin to go along with this, already dreading the consequences once Wonyoung learns the full truth. At this point, it'll save some time for you to confess now, and endure the aftermath as best as possible. "Yujin—is to blame. She needed a ride from the library."

"Daddy! Traitor!" Yujin says, that expression of betrayal when you throw her under the bus. Again.

"The library? Then why the fuck did it stay parked at the rec center for twenty fucking minutes?"

Yujin shoots you another look, the first time you've seen her lose that sense of confidence. Because she could get out of murder just by batting her eyes at anyone. Wonyoung is a different story, though. "Well, Yujin wanted to get a workout in, so we took a little detour before coming back home. That's it."

"Uh-huh." The girl raises an eyebrow, and clearly isn't convinced, and now she's glaring daggers, as if there's even the slightest chance you could both survive what's to come. "A workout? That's what you're gonna go with? You're telling me nothing fucking happened in my Ferrari?" 

"Nope. Just some cardio, a shower, then back here," Yujin quickly responds, putting that smile to work, not even going to bother putting in effort into trying to lie. Wonyoung gets a little closer to the couch, leaning down between the two of you and getting in Yujin's face.

She takes a long look. And then the reveal comes out of nowhere—Wonyoung dangling a pair of panties in front of Yujin's face, black colored, lace trimmed, and just fucking ruined in every possible way with her fingers around them.

"Cardio and a shower got these wet, huh? Care to explain, Yujinnie?" she asks, and a silence takes over the room, a few intense moments before Wonyoung throws the scrap of fabric into her lap. 

"Oh hey, you found my panties. Was wondering where they ended up, silly me." Yujin giggles at the wrong possible time, showing no remorse for how they managed to be in that state, and Wonyoung does not look amused in the slightest. 

"In the backseat. They were in my fucking backseat. Is that where you two fucked? Is that why my car was parked at the rec center for half an hour?" 

"Not in the backseat, obviously." Yujin offers this insincere, hollow little grin, eyes batting prettily as she hesitates for a moment. "Like I said—we were getting a workout. I rode daddy in the driver's seat. Until he emptied his balls. Well, until I did."

"Unbelievable. You two couldn't wait to fuck at the apartment, so you had to go at it in the parking lot like a couple of horny fucking teenagers?" She shakes her head, incredulous. "I swear, you'd both fuck on my bedroom floor if there wasn't a perfectly good bed."

And now you can't believe what you're hearing. That Wonyoung of all people is lecturing about self control in public, like she's forgotten the time she dragged you to the stairwell landing by the art wing so you could fuck her throat before class.

The nerve. 

With a deep sigh, Yujin takes the lead this time to save you the struggle. "Fine, guilty as charged, princess. But your car is cleaner than new—we did a full detail too. There's not a single bit of jizz..."

Wonyoung covers Yujin's mouth before she has the chance to continue with that explanation. "I didn't need the fucking details. Gonna pretend like I never heard that. We all good here, or is there anything else I should know about?" 

"That's everything," Yujin answers with a devious smile, enjoying not having to give much in the way of an apology. "Turns out daddy can drive really well when his cock is down my throat. Gotta remember that for future road trips—"

This time, you're the one covering Yujin's mouth, knowing that's a little too much information than needed.

Thankfully, Wonyoung doesn't seem to mind, or maybe she's just ignored it entirely. "Great. So I heard I was being treated to ice cream? I want mint chocolate chip—"

Oh, if only all of Wonyoung's complaints could be solved with the promise of ice cream. Then again, maybe things would be a little too quiet around the apartment.

"We're taking a different car, though. I'm not gonna sit my ass in cum-stained seats."

And she's back to normal in a flash. 

Yujin hops off the couch, being dragged along with Wonyoung by the wrist as her bubbly attitude shows no signs of dissipating. As if none of this is a big deal at all. 

"Coming, daddy?"

"Hey, that's not fair," Yujin whines, clutching a plastic spoon tightly as she scrapes every bit of mint chocolate ice cream left at the bottom of the bowl.

"Neither is stealing my fucking car for a quick fuck." Wonyoung snatches back the spoon in retaliation to try and find any last remnants, not having any luck. Ice cream parlors and petty fights—suddenly, you’ve got déjà vu.

"It wasn't a quick fuck," Yujin counters, trying to get out of those with her best weapon, her charm and that smile. "I needed a ride, and you weren't answering. So daddy graciously came to my rescue."

This argument's going nowhere fast, and it's not really yours to be having anyway. Yujin can win or lose, no difference will change anything. Although, it's rather comical how similar the two of them can be—arguing over the same damn thing and you stuck in the middle.

"It doesn't matter what kind of a fuck it was," Wonyoung lashes back before shooting you an accusatory look. "What's done is done. So like I said—now I get daddy for the rest of the day. The whole night, as an apology."

"That's not even close to fair, and you know it. Don't act like you've never gotten railed in anything I own, princess."

That has Wonyoung scoffing in response and tossing the empty ice cream container right into the nearest trash can. "That's fucking different. And I at least have the decency to make daddy pull over so he can rail me against the hood and not in the backseat!"

Now the two of them are yelling, and attracting the attention of practically the whole shop—although their words start to blend into nothingness.

"It wasn't the backseat, like I said. I rode daddy in the driver's seat after I blew him on the way back," Yujin insists, and just by the way they're moving closer to each other you can tell this is only going to end badly. "So if anything, you should thank me since we made the car even cleaner."

"Oh, that's even better! Thank you for leaving me sticky fucking seats, you greedy little whore," Wonyoung argues right back, shaking her head in disgust. "You owe me a new fucking car to replace that one. I can't even buy another since I'm still blacklisted just for wanting a pretty pink one."

Now Yujin can't even stop laughing, this ridiculous notion that Wonyoung genuinely is going to hold her liable for something that had both your approval. And your head is starting to throb the more this goes on. 

"You can have daddy for two hours. Two—uninterrupted. Then I'm getting in on the fun whether you like it or not. You steal him enough as is." 

And once again, you're being offered like property, like you have no say in what happens next. Wonyoung at least looks happy that Yujin's agreed on a compromise of sorts, even if it comes at your expense. Not that claiming your time is necessarily the worst trade-off. 

"I don't steal—whatever, so long as he's filling me up, I'll be satisfied. Deal."

Once again, you're stuck in this weird, albeit envious predicament that has them tugging either side of you. Two hours with Wonyoung as your 'punishment'? You can think of worse things. No doubt most of it will be her moaning from whatever place she chooses this time to spread her legs—a sacrifice for the greater good.

"Here? You want to do this here?” 

Wonyoung just scoffs, like you're the one being unreasonable. Of course she'd come back here—a petty little revenge trip, dragging you right back to the scene of the crime. She takes the stairs ahead of you, the hem of her white dress revealing more than necessary. All deliberate, of course, while you have the perfect view of her long, shapely legs.

It's nothing flashy for once, simple, sleeveless, a little clingy in the right places, but it’s enough to get you staring. 

"Being banned from one library isn't enough?” you ask, as if you actually have a say in this. 

"What, Yujinnie can study in here all she wants, but I can't?" Wonyoung asks while the two of you head up. The sound of her stilettos hitting the steps gets amplified, a clack with every step that grows louder, her annoyance the motivation that carries her upward.

"Studying? What exactly are you wanting to study here, princess? Other than that dress barely covering your ass, I can't think of anything worth studying here." 

Wonyoung sighs and keeps walking, stopping when the both of you reach the top step. "Pervert. Fucking pervert, you are," she says, and glances over her shoulder with a look that says the exact opposite. And then—a single twirl, one fluid motion that catches the breeze enough to flash a hint of pink lace and the curve of her ass, gone as quickly as it appears.

"Me, a pervert? Sure. I don't see you complaining," you remind her, like there was a chance Wonyoung forgot who had instigated this. "What is with you two and public places, today? Is the bedroom too mundane for your taste?"

There's that angry stare in her eyes that appears right as your fingers interlock with hers, Wonyoung trying to guide you to wherever her heart desires. "Why would I need a bedroom when you're ready to plow me right wherever I say, daddy?"

You have nothing to deny that accusation when Wonyoung squeezes your hand and grins wider. This other library across campus is just another box to check off. And wherever else it's about to be after this.

At least she has the sense to admit it. It's the least you could expect for being dragged here. 

With Wonyoung pulling a few steps ahead, you make it to the third floor of the library, a floor she reassures absolutely no one spends any time in an old and run down area like this one is. You can’t say she’s wrong about that. The lighting is dimmer up here, half the overhead lights flickering, the shelves old, dusty, and full of books no one ever reads.

And aside from the two of you, the only sign of life is the head librarian—tucked behind a desk in the far corner, too buried in her monitor to care. 

So you head deeper into the back, past the 'no food or drink' sign that's the least of your concern, too focused on those heels that clatter past the shelves, and those mile-long legs of Wonyoung tempting with every step. She stops on a dime, a secluded little corner that's going to be nothing but trouble. 

"This should do," Wonyoung muses, dropping her bag on a table right next to her, and her cardigan on the back of the seat as she glances around just in case of any stragglers. None in sight, thankfully. "Sit, daddy. We have some studying to do."

Yeah, studying. Even with the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, the hardback leather bound encyclopedias collecting dust, this location couldn't possibly be anything more than a front. But you'll indulge the brat for a fleeting moment, and sit down across from where she is. And for once, she's playing the part of student, taking out her laptop and at least pretending to focus, if only for show.

"What are we studying, princess?" Nothing but a loud slurp of Wonyoung's iced coffee answers, obnoxious as she is pretty. A few more sips as those perfectly manicured fingers clicking away at the keyboard, entirely in her own little world.

She's silent. Too quiet. This girl who can't go a single moment without hearing her own voice. Something is off—you can just tell that whatever Wonyoung has brewing in that pretty head of hers is never any good. Never.

More sips of her drink, without a word spoken in between. Even when she removes her heels, one at a time, kicking them off as they fall to the floor with a little thud. Not a sound when she slides her barefoot across your thigh, inching higher up until it's right between your legs—and her toes curl right against your crotch. 

“Wonyoung.” 

Nothing said. Absolutely nothing. Another sip of coffee while she just presses her foot harder, rubbing against the fabric of your pants and stroking along the outline of your cock. Your pants tighten against your own volition, and you're not even looking under the table, not giving the satisfaction. Instead, you stare intently, try to make her falter even for the smallest moment.

"Studying? Is this what this is, princess?" More sips, fighting for the last drop while you're trying not to make a sound from the teasing touch her pretty toes dole out.

"Studying, yes. Studying how hard you can get. Good start,” Wonyoung finally replies, eyes still locked on the screen. She doesn't look at you—just keeps her foot pressed firmly over your crotch, studying all the twitches you make, growing harder by the second. 

"If you wanted me hard," you start, pausing to stifle a moan escaping your mouth, knowing you can't make the slightest sound here. "We could have stayed at the apartment—“ 

"Where's the fun in that? It's called research, daddy. And I get two hours to do as I please. Without Yujin butting in."

That foot between your thighs just gets bolder and bolder, more forceful as she drags her foot up and down, making your pants painfully tight. There's no denying just how fucking hard you're getting. Wonyoung doesn't even give a glance at anything but her screen, as she keeps stroking up and down with those perfect, glittery pink painted toes, gripping hard, doing everything possible to get a groan.

"Remember—quiet," Wonyoung taunts as she doubles down, pressing against every throb she can feel through your pants, while you do your best to pretend it’s not happening. But you can't. Not when you finally bring your gaze to where you're getting teased and god—you grab her ankle, not to push her off, but to keep her in place, keep that pressure right where it belongs.

Wonyoung doesn’t miss her chance to flex her toes one last time, then just like that—she pulls away, not even sparing you a glance.

"Think I've had enough studying for today…” Wonyoung says as she shoves her laptop and the rest of her things into her bag. She saunters around the table, still barefoot, until she’s at your side. A quick lean in so the softness of her lips drops a small kiss to the corner of your mouth, before she lifts herself up to sit on the edge of the table, legs parted enough for you to glimpse what's in between.

Those little pink panties are barely covering her cunt, just the thinnest fabric right between those creamy thighs. You can almost see every detail, especially with the way she keeps her legs spread just for you—and now your dick aches even more. 

"Look what daddy did to me, got me all wet. Guess it's time for a study break."

That's all the encouragement you need to get up from your seat, kick the chair aside, then drag her back enough, ass right to the very edge of the table, legs dangling over the edge. "If I'm responsible, then so are you. For what you started, brat."

You place a palm against her bare shoulder and push her back, a simple gesture that lays her out flat on the table with a smile. And she doesn’t need direction as she hikes her dress up herself, letting it bunch around her waist so you can tug her panties down with ease. Down her luscious legs and thrown to the side. 

Wonyoung parts her thighs, offering her bare little cunt for the taking, already glistening and dripping with need already, every delicious inch calling to be devoured. Gorgeous, absolutely mouthwatering, the kind of perfection that brings you to your knees—quite literally. 

"Remember, princess—quiet." 

That's the only warning she'll get before you dive in, without the faintest fucking care in the world who's here, or where you are. All you care about is making this brat lose it, make her realize that there are consequences for teasing this hard and not following through. So you lean in and go right for a taste, taking a long, generous lick across her wet slit, savoring her sweet nectar and wanting more. 

"D-daddy!" Wonyoung groans as she grabs the back of your head, letting her legs fall over your shoulders while you eat her out, and she nearly bucks right off the table. You've done this enough times to know how sensitive this girl gets, the way her taste becomes stronger every lick, all the easiest ways to have her quivering, to make her pussy drip right into your mouth.

You take another slow lick of her cunt, this one right up to her swollen clit, letting your tongue tease around it before drawing circles—little laps, flat swipes across that have her writhing. Wonyoung knows better than to be so fucking loud in a place like this, but that won't stop her from moaning your name so shamelessly, arching her back right off the table and getting a good grip of your hair.

"Oh my god," Wonyoung whines, eyes wide as you pay no attention to those desperate pleas, letting them fuel you as your hands grip around her thighs to keep her from squirming away, eating that delicious pussy like you're starved. You have the brat helpless, with a hand tight on the back of your head, the other covering her mouth to muffle the shameless noises spilling out. 

Wonyoung just moans right into her palm, choking back the desperate cries for more while you lick away and plunge your tongue deeper inside her wet cunt, almost daring someone to overhear this pretty girl losing it.

Fuck, she tastes amazing, and her entire body quivers from every messy lap of your tongue, a growing mess dripping down your chin that's only going to get worse. No matter how quiet she's trying to be, this girl's never been anything less than a loud, trembling mess the moment her legs spread, and this is no exception.

The risk is secondary to how much you love burying your head between her legs, licking up every part of her cunt that glistens like a feast that you can't get enough of. You’ve got Wonyoung far too worked up to care about anything but grabbing your head, unabashed by how you eat her out without mercy.

She'll learn her fucking lesson if you have to make her gush over and over again on top of this table. And even when she tries her hardest to close her legs and wiggle away, you'll do it again. 

Wonyoung can't keep that one word from spilling out, moaning 'daddy' over and over and crying out how fucking good you are at eating this delicious pussy. Each swipe of your tongue feeds your arousal more than ever, lapping at her cunt, slurping on her clit that gets all the best noises out of her, her thighs clamping around your head and pinning you exactly where you belong, just face-first between these legs of a goddess.

It's almost laughable how much effort she's wasted trying to keep her volume low, yet her entire body surrenders to your mouth. One harsh slurp of her sensitive clit has her grabbing a fistful of your hair in desperation, head falling back on the hard surface of the table and biting her bottom lip, a useless attempt to contain the pleasure.

There's no letting up, not after getting her so ridiculously wet—sucking hard on her clit between filthy, relentless licks, eating her out like this isn't happening in a library, like it's just another day of breaking Wonyoung down and making her melt. 

She's trying to ride your face, fuck herself on your mouth with these frantic, uncontrollable jerks of her hips that almost force you to tear yourself away just so you can have a moment to breathe.

But you don't need that. Not when her hips only move out of control, and the grip in your hair gets even tighter while she squirms. She's right where you want her, and if you really wanted to, you could drag this out a little longer to prolong every tremble and whine until she's in tears. That's a risk you're not willing to take, given she might alert the entire building to where you two are.

Instead, you'll have mercy, if you can call it that. 

You offer no chance to gather her senses, focusing on the sensitive bud between your lips, that little part of her that’s more than enough to drive her right over the edge. Looking up, there’s that perfect view of her pretty, flushed features, a girl far past falling apart while you suck her clit hard, dig your fingers into her creamy flesh and send her hurdling right over the fucking line.

"F-f-fuck—fuck, gonna cum, fucking gonna—"

Wonyoung is incoherent already, hardly able to keep those frantic cries held back, thighs locked around your head, toes curling when the orgasm hits hard. In seconds, she's gushing all over your face and spasming hard, hips bucking desperately against the greedy laps of your tongue to contain the arousal you’re drowning in. Let anyone walk by—you welcome it, you’ll thrive on it, because you’re not stopping. 

The sheer pleasure becomes overwhelming as Wonyoung rides it out, thighs trembling, body shaking so violently that even the table shifts, breath so shaky she could collapse any second. When it's done, Wonyoung can't even speak, trying to shove your head away, but you're not letting up—certainly not done with this delicious treat in front of you. "Daddy, stop—too m-much—"

There's not a chance you'll listen. Not after this fucking tease from earlier. 

You’ll lick up every drop of her juices from her soaked cunt and ignore the tremble in her thighs that loosen their grip, only to clamp back shut when she reaches the edge again. Any more words spoken, any more pleading, everything dissolves the longer this goes, eating her out without relent, even after she’s too sensitive to endure any more, not given a second of rest.

"D-daddy!" she cries out, eyes rolled to the back of her head when she cums on your face again, harder than before. Lips parted, shuddering and digging her nails into your scalp, Wonyoung grabs anything to try and free herself, the overstimulation far, far too much. The way her voice wavers—you can't think of anything more beautiful, one more lap at her cunt to give a final suck on her swollen, throbbing clit, forcing her to ride out the orgasm with your mouth all over that little bud.

Wonyoung can’t help but force more pleas out, body overwhelmed beyond her control. Once your mouth pulls off her cunt, you get a good look at the delicious view left behind, as you leave kisses on her messy thighs, the shaking yet to subside while she lies there on the table, breathless, unable to even move. 

"You're so fucking delicious, princess," you growl, noticing her expression when the fingers gripping your head finally let up and she collapses against the table. "Couldn't get enough of your pretty cunt." 

Wonyoung can't offer up a single word, still sobbing quietly, writhing with the aftershocks yet to cease. Her entire body feels too sensitive, drunk off pleasure and an utter trembling mess underneath, still yet to stop the desperate little spasms of her hips at what you did between her legs.

"That mouth of yours is fucking dangerous," Wonyoung sobs out, not bothering to lift her head to even glance at you. This girl that normally commands a room can't do anything but lie there—a pathetic, overwhelmed, mess, all sprawled out. "C-can't—can't fucking believe you made me cum like that.”

"You know me, princess. Couldn't help myself."

A faint sigh is all she has to give. It takes a moment, but she somehow manages to sit upright, eyes glazed when she looks up, the poor thing utterly ruined after one round. "Fuck, I’m still shaking. That’s how good daddy’s mouth is…”

You can't help laughing at how spent Wonyoung has gotten from just your mouth between her legs. A rare occasion. "Then maybe we should cut the study break short for today, princess."

Wonyoung perks her head up and stares at you, looking rather disappointed. "Hey, wait—you're still so fucking hard. We're not leaving until we do something about that. Come on."

Well, there's no denying that, even in her disheveled state. And she's not going anywhere without it being dealt with properly, already unbuttoning your pants and impatiently trying to tug them down. "Here? Still?” 

"Where else? If we haven't gotten caught at this point, it's not going to happen. Yes, here—dummy,” Wonyoung says, recovering enough to give your cock some relief when your boxers meet your pants around your ankles. “Fuck me raw on this table. Right now.” 

That rapacious look of hers is too much, every set of long strokes working wonders to get you desperate for what this girl's willing to offer up. "This looks pretty painful, daddy, doesn't it? Your cock deserves some gratitude. For what that mouth did to me."

But before you can even get a word out, she leans back again—this time raising both feet, pressing each sole against the swollen head of your cock. Nothing you can do but grunt when her delicate toes squeeze the head just so, her other foot stroking the entire length, coaxing precum that drips down.

"So fucking hard. Might just burst if my pretty little feet keep jerking you off, huh?"

Wonyoung knows exactly what you crave—and knows too well what a tease like this does to your cock. Just those small touches against your most sensitive spots, little strokes of her toes that urge you right where she wants you. 

The way her toes tease the tip, slide down to play with your balls, getting them heavier before dragging back up with one sole caressing your cock again, is downright dizzying. "That's what you fucking love, isn't it, daddy? These soft feet all over that huge dick of yours—"

She has you in the palm of her hand—always has and always will.

"Princess, quit teasing," you groan, unable to do anything but watch as she places both feet flat on either side of your cock, stroking up and down the sides while keeping the head right at her toes. This is absolute bliss. She watches with those big, doe eyes, observing how you can't keep from throbbing, her toes toying and sliding everywhere they possibly can. 

"Then do something about it," Wonyoung tempts, keeping those long legs raised and stroking your shaft with both her soles. Until you grab those legs and hoist them on your shoulders, wiping that grin off her face when you line her tight entrance with your needy, dripping cock. 

And now you're the one teasing, nudging your cock just inside the silky lips of her cunt, getting enough of that wet warmth around the head before pulling away.

It draws a breathy moan from Wonyoung, with her legs anchored onto your shoulders, slick juices all over your tip each time you brush through her slit. The way she mouths out a 'please’, begging for you to shove that cock between her folds and stuff her little cunt—makes you prolong this delicious torment for far too long.

"This what you wanted? For me to do something about your dripping cunt?" you taunt, rubbing your cockhead against those drenched lips, loving the desperate whine when you slide in enough to make her want more before you pull right back out. 

"Just fuck me—shove it in. Quit playing already."

"Oh, you don't wanna beg? Fucking brat can tease me but not the other way around, is that how it works?"A deep sigh follows when Wonyoung grows annoyed each time you drag along her slit and tease a few thrusts to slide right in. 

"I don't need to beg. That's your job, I just need you to plow my fucking pussy," Wonyoung demands, trying her best not to whine with each denied attempt at entry. 

"That's the fucking plan, brat,” you growl as you push further inside the heat of her slick, well-devoured cunt and bury the rest of your cock, getting a deep gasp from Wonyoung who welcomes every thick inch with little resistance. That tight pussy swallows every inch in an instant, wrapping around every bit you give her, so warm, so inviting, drenched and perfectly clenching around you.

"Tight fucking slut, god. How can you still feel so damn good no matter how many times I'm inside you?" Barely a few thrusts and Wonyoung feels so wet, drenching your cock that's suffocating in this slippery heat.

"Because you're fucking addicted," she answers, smirk fading fast while grabbing the edge of the table and losing herself with each pump of your hips.

"And you can't live a day without this dick—" That's what gets the loudest cry out when Wonyoung clenches tighter, those never ending legs spread on your shoulders while your hips crash right into her as you thrust deep into that wet little hole. 

"Because it's mine."

You can't disagree, not at a time like this. With her eyes locked on yours, her lips part to spill these needy moans, cheeks flushed a deep pink. You’re buried inside her, every inch claimed by the kind of heat and insane grip that makes it nearly impossible to let you escape. 

Wonyoung is perfect, always is, perfect to be fucked deep and raw. Perfect to bend over whatever is in reach, using whichever part of her gorgeous body she wants you in. And now these legs feel so natural resting on your shoulders, one on either side, locked behind your neck to make the angle even deeper. 

“Daddy feels so deep inside, fucking wrecking my pussy," is all Wonyoung can get out in between heaving breaths while the whole table jostles each time you hit the deepest parts and plunge through these walls to stay buried.

There's no objection in how you pound into her, nothing but pure, unrestrained lust, not a single care with every noise coming out of her mouth, every squelch that echoes as your heavy balls slap into the curve of Wonyoung's tight ass.

"Princess, fuck, so good—love this tight fucking pussy. Love your filthy fucking mouth and your pretty face and all of you. Love fucking you here on this table," you say, the praise spilling out without even trying. And Wonyoung has been far from subtle the moment you started driving your dick deep, mouth never shut—the heavy moans, the loud gasps, every deep breath growing ragged with every new thrust.

"Love when you fuck me so hard," Wonyoung murmurs back, doing nothing to tone down her reactions as she demands your cock claim all of her tight, impossibly soaked cunt. The feeling is very mutual. There's not anything better than these hot, slippery lips trapping you inside, tightening around every part that's throbbing.

All in a library, no less. One that’s neglected, but the lack of concern only makes you pound this tight cunt faster. Maybe you’ll check off another banned location from your list, because the studying going on here is anything but academic. 

"Fuck, fuck, you're stretching me so much—rearranging my guts, daddy." 

"Library, princess…" you remind her, words she doesn't hear or even care about. Not that you give any more of a damn. Your hips don’t either as you keep slamming away, lost in the feeling of how good every thrust feels, nothing less than balls deep while you grip her legs for leverage. She clenches harder the deeper your thrusts hit, until her voice stalls, and she lets the moans get a bit too loud. 

Wonyoung just can't contain herself and gushes all over your cock, forcing you to fight through that mess that floods out all over.

It gets everywhere—all over your thighs, the table, her bag, even the floor. Wonyoung can't stop trembling, eyes rolling back, legs shaking hard, all this messy gushing that's threatening to shove you out if not for her cunt desperately holding you inside.

"S-shit, daddy, couldn't help myself. Your huge cock feels too fucking good. Too fucking deep in me," she gasps out when her legs give out on their own and those ankles detach from your shoulders. 

"Made such a huge mess, princess," you say, not stopping the steady, deep pumps even as her legs now rest limply against the table. Each thrust turns her into more of a whimpering mess, overstimulated in a way that makes her toes curl, legs continuing to shake when you fill her to the hilt and keep fucking her. 

"That's your fault, not mine. You love fucking me wherever I want, can’t help how good it feels.” 

No rest for either of you then, it seems. You're right back to it, holding her thighs apart to slam into her pussy in a relentless rhythm, smacking your hips into her tight little body, pistoning hard enough the table rattles. And there's no time for Wonyoung to do anything other than lose control. 

"Daddy can't stop fucking me," Wonyoung taunts in the middle of her heavy panting and moans, tongue out, drool spilling past her lips with each hard slam. "You love my tight little pussy way too much to stop." 

As if she didn't just fucking gush like a hydrant a minute ago.

Wonyoung doesn't get anything else out when she opens her legs as much as she can, finding enough strength to wrap them around you, tight as can be to get you even deeper inside. There's not a chance she would allow this cock anywhere else with how hard she squeezes and makes sure not an inch slips away.

"Daddy's not going anywhere, not with my fucking legs locked. Not letting you fucking leave or ever pull out—"

"You think I could ever leave your warm little cunt when it feels this good? Not a chance, princess." You can't possibly look away from those expressive eyes, full lips open with heavy, desperate groans, staring right at you as you keep sinking inside, every throb met by a delicious squeeze that demands you give every fucking drop. 

This harsh rhythm, the sound of flesh against flesh, a cacophony of groans while Wonyoung keeps those legs wrapped tight leaves you drowning in this pleasure.

"Want you to fucking cum right inside of me, daddy. Can't take it anymore—just fucking pump me full, pump my womb with all that hot fucking seed, make me leak all over this fucking table. Breed me right here in this fucking library, right now. Please, daddy—please." 

When she begs so prettily like that, with you buried so deep, what resistance is left in you? Nobody has these pleading eyes like Wonyoung, trying to squeeze your cock as tight as possible to empty you inside. 

This isn't a study break, but a full on performance by both of you. The library is the worst place for this, and yet it doesn't stop you from pumping harder into Wonyoung's slick cunt, like you're just asking to be heard at the back of the third floor. 

"Gonna fucking fill this pussy," you growl, powerless to stop the inevitable with how tight these walls cling around you, downright impossible to not erupt when she has you right where she wants. Those legs around your waist expedite it even further. 

“P-please, right now,” Wonyoung begs one final time, giving you just enough time to look up, to see the way those eyes are looking at you—not pleading anymore, but a sense of desperation in there. 

Not another moment to think. Not another second to stop yourself from doing just that. With a final, unapologetic slam that hits as deep as her body can take, you unleash everything inside, heavy spurts flooding right into her tight, greedy cunt. That voice that has you pumping hot, messy streams of cum from your aching balls into the girl who craves it more than anything. 

It's fucking endless, it always is. Her cunt swallows your load with every violent throb, greedy walls squeezing hard to wring out the spurts you pound even deeper inside. 

And that's just what Wonyoung deserves, taking your load with pride. The relief is undeniable, second to the way her pretty face glows, lips parted as the last of your cum disappears into her well-fucked pussy, never, ever getting tired of the grip that demands more. 

"Every single drop…” Wonyoung murmurs as you fill her up, legs locked so tight around your body to make sure all of that cum stays inside, a hot, sticky, pearlescent mess flooding her insides. No pulling out. Not until you're totally drained, that's her demand, and that's non-negotiable.

"So thick, so fucking warm, daddy. Keep fucking it all deeper, wanna feel it leaking." There’s little you can do but that, move your hips in small movements, to make sure your fresh load finds its place deep between those creamy thighs. 

Your thrusts slow down by the end of it, all this combined pleasure that's finally taken its toll. Finally having the chance to catch a breath, you close your eyes and revel in the softness wrapped around your sensitive shaft, in the sweat you can feel trickling down the side of your face. There’s no better satisfaction than pumping this pretty pink cunt to the fucking brim. 

"Princess made me cum so damn hard. You just couldn't wait to empty these balls into that tight fucking cunt, could you, brat?" you whisper against the shell of her ear, face buried right against her bare shoulder when it's just the two of you defeated by exhaustion, no break from the grip her legs won’t give up. 

"Daddy always gives his princess always gets what she wants. Love when you use me to drain those heavy fucking balls."

You don't know what it is with these two today—these demanding, greedy brats craving the seed that's pumping into Wonyoung and oozing right from the tight little hole it fills, but there’s no complaints. None whatsoever. 

"First your car, then the library. It's like you both hate the apartment now," you tell her, earning a little giggle betraying any sense of decorum.

"Or maybe we’re just two insatiable sluts that love daddy fucking us wherever possible," she fires back with a tremble in her voice, and a little peck to your lips, finally freeing the hold her legs have around you. You don't pull out quite yet, taking a moment to savor the warmth and the mess you’ve left inside before easing out—

You watch the most sinful little sight when you do, a flood of thick cum without cease onto the library table, those beautiful thighs, everywhere it chooses to defile. 

There's definitely not the smallest bit of remorse or modesty, despite the huge mess the two of you have just made. The mixture of your cum and Wonyoung’s floods through this table, no doubt ruining anything in the near vicinity. At least it'll be a fun story to explain to Yujin why you're banned from a different library entirely.

But that’s a problem for later. Right now, you're too focused on the sight of your cum dripping down Wonyoung’s thighs, watching as her fingers trail through the thick white between her legs, shoving whatever escapes back inside. There's silence while she does so, save for her loud, uneven breaths and your own. 

You lean in to kiss her, this time a longer press of your lips as you cradle her face, tongue invading past her parted lips, lost in this lust for what seems like forever. 

"This is a library, you two know—" 

The sudden interruption has you pulling away in panic, because it's not a voice you know. Wonyoung, however, doesn’t look the least bit bothered when she glances to find another pair of eyes staring right at the two of you.

"Yes, very fucking aware," Wonyoung replies in a rather calm voice given the circumstances. You follow her gaze, seeing it hone in on a figure not too far from what you’ve done to this poor table. 

It's not the head librarian at least, the only relief you can have with your pants around your ankles. 

Whoever it is takes a step closer to reveal herself, a younger woman, student if you had to guess, judging by the book she holds (or rather, embraces), and the backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Then why are you two defiling my favorite study spot?" the girl asks, coming closer. There's annoyance when there should be shock, her concerns clearly involving any inconvenience and not how compromising this position is. 

“Shouldn't you be a little quieter then? This is a library after all," Wonyoung fires right back, returning her gaze with a finger still mindlessly running through those creamy folds, until one pops right into her mouth. She doesn't give an ounce of embarrassment or the slightest consideration to this other woman inches away. 

"Yes, a library. For the purposes of studying. And it looks like there's been a fucking orgy happening on this table," the other girl says in return. There's a trace of sarcasm, one that matches Wonyoung well while she inspects the damage, to where the table has a thick trail of fluids that's not going away.

"And what would you know about studying? Don't exactly recall seeing you in class once this semester, sweetie."

"How would you—" the other woman starts, stopping herself. She stands there with arms folded, both of them hesitant for a moment until she gathers her thoughts. "We have economics together. Every Tuesday. And every week, you're off getting dicked down somewhere or I don't know, whatever other hobbies you have that involve spreading your legs."

"Sorry for having a social life. Maybe you should try it out, Gaeulie."

This girl laughs a little, leaning against a dusty bookshelf. "Gaeulie? No one's called me that since—"

"Our senior year in high school, I know. But it's the same Gaeul, isn't it? Still the shy, nerdy girl with the same smart mouth, huh?” 

And now it all clicks together in an instant, even without knowing a thing about her. Someone who clearly can handle Wonyoung, knows how to handle her without being the least bit bothered by any of these insults, clearly used to such attitude.

"You'd be surprised. Things change," Gaeul starts, gaze traveling around the table. It falls onto you, and she takes a second, studying.

Wonyoung just stares.

"Yujinnie mentioned something about a guy she was banging lately, said she was sharing him with you. Thought it was just a one time thing, but looks like you're still here, yeah?" Gaeul asks, with that gaze glued right where it is, on you, between your legs and for longer than just a cursory glance. "With a huge cock, apparently. Guess that's as good enough reason as any." 

It doesn't make you uneasy as it should, perhaps because you're still processing this all. But the way she ogles your body, that's what does, not wanting to strike up a conversation all exposed like this. 

Her eyes just follow wherever she pleases, and doesn't even attempt to hide her blatant stare. 

With your clothes back on, now you can at least look at this girl named Gaeul for more than a second. Not bad to look at, honestly. She's rather attractive, but the polar opposite of Yujin and Wonyoung in her casual hoodie and jeans, glasses neatly atop her face, long blonde hair and a shy smile to go with it. A smaller stature compared to the other two and just a general timidness that's clear, but not without enough confidence to go head-to-head with Wonyoung.

"Hi, I'm Gaeul," she reiterates. "Nice to meet you. Enjoyed the little show. Sorry, didn't mean to stare at your cock that long. Impressive though." 

This is awkward, to say the least. Meeting an acquaintance of Wonyoung when you're naked from the waist down. That's a new one.

You have not a thing to say, just a quick nod while you shake the extended hand, meeting this mysterious woman. Gaeul can only let out a giggle, and you think this might be more embarrassing than being banned from another library.

"Well, as much as I would love to stand here and chat, it smells like a goddamn porn set back here, and I've got an assignment to complete. Unlike someone who skips class just to get a dick down their throat," Gaeul says, smiling the whole time she speaks. "We should grab a drink sometime. And maybe—"

She gives a glance towards you, then back between your legs. "Maybe you could bring him too. Oh, and don't worry. I won't tell anyone what happened here. That librarian forgot her hearing aid, probably. Besides, who would ever believe a cute little nerdy girl about a study corner getting used for this kind of debauchery?"

Before anything gets answered, Gaeul's already out of view, leaving a last little wave behind her and heading out. And that's when you can finally breathe again.

"Don't say a damn word," Wonyoung warns the same moment you even think about opening your mouth, hopping off the table. She scans the room, eyes landing on the soaked, crumpled panties tossed among the wreckage. Without a word, she stuffs them into her purse, adjusting her dress like nothing ever happened.

"Time to go, daddy. We have an hour left, and that cock isn't done spilling cum in me. Let's go find another place. Preferably one with less dust."

For now, you're too exhausted to object, being led back out of the library, in search of your next potential place to desecrate.

Which turns out, is no easy feat, when your options are rather limited, given it's past midday. Public bathrooms are overdone at this point. The science center is a bigger no, as is every lecture hall that is entirely too occupied to even enter. The cafeteria is dead at this hour, but even for Wonyoung that's far too risky, even with that one spot she keeps insisting on, the one she swears no one will ever wander back to.

A quick text to Yujin to check in, and she replies back asking how many times your balls have been emptied, with not much more advice than to try the auditorium. Which apparently Wonyoung takes up on—and that's always a dangerous thing, judging from the way she tugs on your arm.

So now your back is against the bright, white wall of the racquetball court, another ‘abandoned’ space that she’s taken you, a term that you aren’t even sure means anything anymore. Nowhere near as exciting as that one time Wonyoung dragged you into the pilates studio—when the only stretching involved was her leg hooked on the ballet bar and your cock buried in her tight little cunt, each thrust rocking her petite frame against the mirrored wall.

And this is more of the same.

Your pants might as well live around your ankles these days. The racquetball court has seen better days, with paint peeling from the walls, floorboards a little worse for wear. 

Not to mention the lights dim and flicker, but it’s still bright enough to catch the obscene sight of Wonyoung on her knees, drool spilling from her lips as she devours your cock. Like it hasn’t even been five minutes since you last emptied yourself inside her.

"You’re greedy, today. Getting my cock in your mouth the second we step through the door," you point out, running a hand through her hair as the sound of that sloppy mouth gets louder with every bob of Wonyoung's pretty head. And these walls echo with every slurp that spills out. 

Her eyes peer up through the mess of spit that drips down, two fingers rubbing at her pink slit while she slobbers over every inch. She's messy in the cutest of ways. Lips pink, parted, and pouty as they slide down your shaft, right to the back of her wet throat. Her cheeks hollow as she works nice and slow, grabbing your hips when she stuffs your entire cock in her mouth with only a tiny bit of a gag. 

All the little choked gasps, the effort she makes to take you deeper, those eyes that get all wide when you help force her head all the way to the hilt.

"I'm greedy everyday, daddy. Haven't you realized that, yet?" 

Hard to realize anything but how good those soft fucking lips feel wrapped around your cock. That warm mouth spilling plenty of drool over every inch, so utterly soaked, pink little tongue dragging along every vein when Wonyoung runs those luscious lips right back down. Until her nose is buried against your pelvis, leaving no room to breathe as she keeps your dick in the heavenly depths of her tight fucking throat.

It’s easy to indulge that greediness, when your cock aches just as bad, forcing her head down the way you need, with your fingers through that silky dark hair, threaded right through. 

Especially when you press her up against the court wall, with a handful of hair and fuck into her slick, needy cunt, sinking in deep without restraint. No need to hold back when the soundproof walls swallow up every obscene noise, not when Wonyoung is demanding to be ruined, begging for more with every pathetic gasp.

Neither of you giving a single fuck how loud you can get, yanking back to expose that pretty little throat that Wonyoung leaves all vulnerable, the marks from earlier still noticeable, even more vivid on that pale flesh when your teeth dig in. 

The best part is how all your thrusts amplify in this large space, each rough pop of your hips forcing her slender body against the padded court wall. It's the sweet sounds that escape her mouth, loud moans and gasps and filthy praises spilling from those swollen lips. How wet she gets with every thrust pinning her to the wall as she cries out 'daddy' like a mantra, cunt only gripping tighter the more your hips slam into her ass.

And she tries—to get her hand underneath, to rub against her swollen clit but you move her wrists above her, pressing her body flat against the wall. "You'll cum on this cock when it's time. No help."

"That's not fucking fair." The tone Wonyoung says it with doesn't even matter, not with how helpless she looks against you.

"Too bad. Bad girls don't get to decide the rules."

That makes her cry out another moan, her tight cunt clamping even harder. "How am I supposed to not touch myself when you keep destroying my fucking pussy like this?"

"Quit whining, brat. You can take it, can't you?"

"Of course I can, daddy. I just—oh god, it's so good. Just wanna cum on your fat cock, please."

A weak argument at best. "You think that's not gonna happen with how fucking hard you're getting pounded into this wall? No chance.”

“D-daddy, please—“ 

A slap lands so hard across her bare ass that she yelps into the surface her cheek rests against. Another even harder comes after, no relent or consideration, one that she'll feel at her next class, regardless of when she decides to show up.

Wonyoung is in her element here. A public space but contained, making as many noises and shameless sounds as she pleases. 

Panties ripped off and thrown somewhere on the court, with heels, of course. This time they stay on her feet, so they do little more than add an extra little thud when you deliver every slam inside that delicious, soaked cunt that can barely take all of you.

“You’re throbbing—which means I get another load. Fill me where I want it,” Wonyoung pleads, like she’s so sure she’ll get anything. Even with the loud spanks on her ass that cut through her moans, leaving her with red handprints and bruised flesh that just makes her whine for more.

"No—"

Another slap on her tight ass, another loud gasp she offers up in return, a tug back so you can whisper in her ear. "Princess doesn't get another load in her cunt—this one belongs all over your pretty fucking face."

So a clench of her dripping wet walls is what you get in reply, because she'll take your cum however she can. Nothing gets her cunt drenched more than imagining your cum spilled across her. 

Then it’s one final, frantic thrust before you pull out, and Wonyoung doesn't hesitate at all, dropping down to her knees and awaiting her favorite reward. She watches the way you stroke your cock in front of her angelic face, and that sultry pout on her full lips is more than enough to get you there. 

With one hand through her hair and the other gripping tight around your cock, you keep Wonyoung as close as can be, her eyes wide as she patiently waits and anticipates every bit of your cum, offering her whole face as a canvas.

The first thick blast hits Wonyoung's face right away, landing all over her cute nose and splattering white streaks across her plump pink lips. Next comes her forehead, shooting a double of long, sticky strands all the way up to her dark hair, cock still gripped firmly so you can target every gorgeous fucking spot on her. 

Each heavy spurt paints her perfect skin, spurts that end up all over her cheeks, on her chin and that outstretched tongue to leave this brat properly covered, just as promised. Your load clings to those lips that shine under the bright lights, unable to contain a giggle from how proud she is to get decorated.

She's gorgeous. There's never enough time to savor this incredible sight, Wonyoung with your cum painted all over her beautiful face.

"Love how your cum feels all over me. Love when daddy blows his big, heavy load all over my fucking face."

Wonyoung strokes your cock against her cheek, pulsating right on her face and wearing every spurt across her smooth skin like a trophy. A dizzying sight, her messy smile and your cum streaked across that pretty face, the kisses she lands on the sensitive tip of your cock that sends more shudders through you.

The lights buzz overhead. Somewhere above, shoes squeak faintly across the floor, sounding so much louder when Wonyoung's fully distracted, lazily stroking your sensitive cock. 

"Well, well, well—" 

Interrupted again. But this time, there’s no mystery when you both glance up at the viewing balcony above you. Who else but Yujin leaning against the railing with a clear view down, ponytail swaying as her head drops to get a better look.

She’s dressed in what looks like workout gear, a black sports bra and pink yoga pants that cling far too tightly around her thick thighs and shapely ass, slinging an athletic bag over one shoulder. There's a sheen of sweat on her skin like she's already spent the better part of an hour on a treadmill, yet looking gorgeous as ever. "Funny seeing you two here. Is this the premium courtside experience, or do I need to pay extra?"

Wonyoung says little, nor does she acknowledge the third party while she keeps her position, kneeling on the court floor. "My two hours aren't up yet. So unless you're going to stay and watch..."

"Trying to get rid of me? I paid for the full-access pass, so I better get my money's worth, princess," Yujin teases right back, already striding down the flight of stairs, heading in your direction. In seconds, she's down on the first floor of the court and making a beeline right towards the two of you.

You're the most vulnerable one in all this, cock out, pants around your ankles with Wonyoung still stroking your shaft at a steady rhythm. That little laugh from Yujin catches both your attention when she sees the mess covering Wonyoung's face.

"Jesus, princess. You're a fucking mess.” 

"You'd be too," Wonyoung defends, offering no apology as she slides a couple fingers through the cum dripping down her features before shoving them in her mouth to clean them, slurping lewdly. "If you saw what we were up to. My ass still fucking stings." 

Yujin only laughs. "Good."

Wonyoung rises from the court floor then, only to be met with Yujin who leans in with a little smirk and plants a greedy kiss on those cum-smeared lips, getting a good taste without hesitation. Then it’s just pure lust as their tongues collide, swapping saliva and the lingering taste of your cum they crave more of. 

And now you’re the one just watching. Standing with your dick still out in the open while these two make in front of you—Yujin's fingers sliding between Wonyoung's legs to plunge them inside, eager for another taste from somewhere else.

"Daddy didn't wanna cum in your little pussy, huh?" Yujin taunts, like she can't see the mess that's still present on Wonyoung's glazed features. 

"He did already. Filled me so good a little while ago, and now he wanted my pretty face all covered—don't be jealous just because you didn't get yours."

Not like Yujin has anything to envy, watching Wonyoung fall apart at the feeling of her long fingers buried between those wet lips, not even giving a care to your presence. "Daddy came inside me first, though. In your car, remember? He couldn't help it while my tight cunt kept riding his huge fucking dick..."

That's the best way to get Wonyoung to shut up—still annoyed at what the two of you did in her car. Yujin slips out the two fingers coated in Wonyoung's juices, then licks them clean without breaking eye contact. 

"So fucking what? What are you even doing here, anyway, Yujinnie?” 

"Other than watch you two fuck like animals? Thought I'd get an actual workout in, and see what you two were up to. Are those your panties?" Yujin asks, laughing as she glances down to a small pair of discarded underwear that can't possibly qualify as anything. 

It's Wonyoung's turn to laugh now. "Might be. Daddy kind of ruined them."

You roll your eyes, gathering your senses back and finding some semblance of modesty that the other two clearly don't seem to grasp. "You begged me to. Rip them off and pound my pussy like a whore is what you said to be exact, so—"

"Shut up, daddy. I said no such thing—"

Yujin can't wipe that wide grin off her face, looking between you two with a judgmental shake of her head, acting like she hasn't said similar things. "Since we're not heading back to the apartment anytime soon... there's a locker room, down the hall. You know where that goes. We've got the place all to ourselves."

There's never a real break when the three of you are together, when Yujin gets that familiar gleam in her eye, pulling her ponytail free and letting that dark hair cascade down her back. 

That's about all Wonyoung needs, and all it takes for you to follow. She doesn't even attempt to make herself presentable, dress left hiked up and disheveled. Those clothes are all coming off anyway. "Hurry up, daddy."

You'd rather get out of this pathetic looking court sooner rather than later. So off to the locker room you all go, bags and belongings in hand. Your two leggy roommates saunter ahead of you, your gaze shamelessly aimed at Yujin's ass in those tight pants that hug every delicious curve to perfection. 

You'll never get cleaned up—not if these two have any say in it, but maybe you're okay with that. 

“Come on, it’s empty,” Yujin says as she leads the way into the locker room that’s surprisingly luxurious, with marble counters and large mirrors, rows of shower stalls and padded benches. It smells faintly of citrus and lavender—a surprising contrast with the neglected condition of the facility.

You're the first to follow Yujin and her deliciously swaying hips as she slides those yoga pants off, glancing over her shoulder to make sure you're watching before sliding her sports bra off. Now in just a tiny little pair of panties and nothing else, the small fabric does its best to cover that perfectly shaped ass, and those legs a sight you could stare at forever. She stretches her long limbs up above her head, toned arms flexing and offering an even more tantalizing glimpse of that bare back, where your hands always gravitate towards, all that smooth, flawless skin that feels so nice underneath your fingertips. 

"Enjoying yourself, daddy?" Yujin teases, taking her sweet time to peel those tiny panties off, bending forward and popping her ass up even more.

Your gaze can't stay away from every sinful inch, especially right between her legs, that gorgeous, smooth cunt of hers, and you're tempted to skip on a hot shower and bury your face between her thighs right fucking now.

"Hard not to when you look so good naked, Yujinnie," you answer back, taking a step forward to grope around her curvy hips, then squeeze at her plentiful ass, savoring the slight jiggle when you get a handful and knead those soft cheeks in your palms.

"Then you better take those clothes off too, daddy. Can't take a shower with these on, can you?” 

Yujin doesn’t say anything more when she turns around, walking backwards to the nearest shower stall as you get the full view of that delicious body from the front before she slips in and starts the water.

No time to waste. Your clothes end up scattered, shoes kicked off as you finally join Yujin already under the hot water, not afraid to push you against the tile wall and capture your lips in a deep kiss. And you can't wait another second to grab her ass again, feeling her soft flesh up while you enjoy her hungry mouth, steam surrounding you more and more as the hot water rains down your bodies.

"Who said you could start without me?" 

Wonyoung's voice interrupts as she stumbles in and closes the curtain. There's really not enough room for three in one shower stall, but you're all pressed in close and it doesn't matter. And hey, you aren't going to say no to having these two naked and all sharing the same water.

"Don't act like you don't love watching us," Yujin says in between the two of you devouring one another, her greedy hands sliding all over your body to find your cock already throbbing and needing her touch. "Was wondering if you were ever going to join us." 

"Had to wash this cum off my face, obviously," Wonyoung huffs, stepping closer to join in on the fun. She runs her wet tongue across your chest until her body is pressing into yours as well, all that wet skin sliding across yours and feeling so damn good. You switch from Yujin to Wonyoung, capturing those lips next with your tongue slipping right in to taste. 

Yujin isn't idle though, reaching below to grab your cock with her soapy, wet hands, stroking nice and slow. It’s so easy to find yourself lost between their mouths, swapping saliva with each girl while your cock gets more than a little needy. Now it's both of them who stroke, keeping up with the pace Yujin is setting while each of their lips claim yours back and forth, teeth teasing and tongues desperate for attention.

All the hot steam, all the naked skin on display and it's no surprise your cock is growing so stiff as Yujin slowly drops to her knees and positions herself between your thighs. Hot water falls over her, washing soap off your cock and trickles down the curves of her body while her tongue brushes in this playful tease over your dick that twitches with each touch.

"Didn't Wonyoung take care of you earlier, daddy? That huge load on her face and you're still this hard?" she asks, clearly not expecting a proper response, especially when she wraps her lips around your swollen tip and takes you deep into her tight throat all at once. And the moan that follows makes this question impossible to answer.

"That was barely even an appetizer," Wonyoung cuts in, kissing down your wet body, lips tracing down your abs while moving further and further below. The lower she drops, the more she crouches, the closer her hot mouth approaches—

And then her lips surround your aching balls while she begins to suck, drawing the hefty sack into her mouth to show her admiration. "Needed so much more than what he pumped across my face."

More sounds spill from your mouth with this extra attention. Yujin works diligently on your cock, bobbing her head along and drooling over your shaft, with Wonyoung on her knees right beside on the wet floor, lavishing your balls in tandem. Two ravenous mouths that seem to love the task, slurping and sucking without a care. Two noisy mouths kissing, licking, downright worshiping your cock from tip to base and everywhere in between.

"Fuck, you two are—" is all you can say when Yujin leans back to spit a huge mouthful of drool that coats your shaft, her palm stroking it all in before going back down again. 

Once she comes up, Wonyoung gets her lips right at one side of your thick cock, while Yujin takes the opposite, the two running those soft, warm lips from base to tip before their tongues dance all over your leaking cockhead together, trying their best to fit as much between their pretty lips as possible.

"My turn," Wonyoung demands, shoving your cock into her bratty mouth without warning. Yujin only giggles and dips back down, no objections when she latches her mouth on one of your heavy balls with a satisfying slurp.

"Mmh, daddy's balls are so full, so delicious," Yujin moans, staring at Wonyoung, sharing that lewd look that'll end you. 

The sight, the feeling, this devilish pair of lips treating your needy cock like a delicacy, it’s far too good, far too overwhelming the way their greedy mouths treat your cock. Especially Wonyoung, her mouth all warm and wet, all that tight suction from slobbering on your length without even a pause to breathe.

Her head bobs furiously along your shaft while she stuffs every inch down, straight past the back of her throat with little difficulty, right to the hilt. And Yujin is equally relentless with her attention, relentless in how she sucks at each your balls, running her tongue all over them before releasing with a loud pop that echoes in the shower before wrapping her mouth around again.

There's definitely nothing getting clean, but this is visual stimulation. Their gorgeous mouths competing with each other, two slobbery, soft sets of lips showing no sign of stopping until they get you off.

With Wonyoung choking you down, Yujin doesn't take too long to up the ante, eager to make you crumble with her tongue flicking fast on your balls as she guides a hand to one of your hips, moving between your legs. As she reaches underneath, a wet finger probes right at the spot she knows will make you fall to pieces. 

"F-fuck, Yujin," you rasp out when that curious digit circles your puckered hole before dipping just inside, not enough to penetrate but a steady tease.

Yujin withdraws, spitting into the palm of her hand so she can return to your ass, this nice, slippery feeling of her wet finger massaging your prostate to coax the right response out of you. One that she gets immediately, when the pressure mounts, and she traces your rim with the tip of her middle finger, eagerly anticipating the moment when you’ll lose it. 

Even with your cock impaling that tight little wet throat, Yujin makes damn sure to draw your attention, finger slowly pumping inside your ass. The wet slurps of Wonyoung’s greedy mouth are one thing, but the way those messy lips wrap around your balls as she continues her advance inside your ass is more than just another level. 

"Too fucking good, god, feels so fucking good," you groan as Yujin plunges even deeper, buried all the way in your ass and curling her finger to hit just the right places. "Not gonna last if you keep this up—” 

“Then don’t,” Yujin says, and that's clearly their intention. With the way they stare at one another and share an equally filthy smile before locking lips, trading their own sloppy spit between them before continuing their oral assault. One that doesn’t stop, Wonyoung picking up the pace as she works to choke you down her throat, a strangled, gargling moan and spit dripping off your balls, sloppier than you've ever felt before.

There’s no stopping this hungry duo, the greed they can’t stop displaying, each just as desperate for another load of your cum. 

Yujin looks up with all that wet hair stuck to her beautiful face, and that expression hits hard. Wonyoung has no other thought in her mind than swallowing this huge, thick load straight from the source as she takes you down her throat with ease, holding for as long as she needs to. 

Neither will back off as that heavy throbbing increases, their target clear, both ready to pull the trigger with all this combined effort driving you wild. Neither can resist the temptation to devour your length, your balls—kisses and frantic licks that won't quit, until all that overwhelming sensation becomes more than what your body can handle. 

"Let it out, daddy," Yujin hums, greedily drawing out as much cum as she can get with each suck of your balls. "Blow that huge load right down her filthy fucking throat.”

You don’t stand a chance. 

All that’s left is to grip tight at the back of Wonyoung’s head, forcing her down as your cock erupts without restraint, spilling everything into her wet mouth. 

Her eyes widen when you throb in her mouth, nails digging into her scalp as you erupt down that tight, warm little mouth that demands your hot cum, swallowing it all down with ease. That pretty mouth stays firmly at the base, each eager gulp taking as much of this thick, creamy load that churns out of your balls, shot after shot shooting straight down her throat. 

Wonyoung sucks harder than ever through every last twitch, holding your hips to keep you where she needs you, buried down her throat when she guzzles it all down. She doesn't stop, not until she's drained you dry, every last spurt coating her throat, not a drop wasted, not until she's satisfied, opening her mouth to show every last drop swallowed, tongue out to confirm just as much.

Not a moment to rest before they're both all over you in an instant, while their lips converge around the sensitive head of your cock, two greedy tongues all over your cockhead to taste you all over. 

“That cum is so delicious, daddy,” Wonyoung says and runs a long lick along your spent shaft, while Yujin savors a nice, slow slurp across your still throbbing cockhead, neither mouth ready to leave you. 

"I'm guessing you weren't sharing that, were you, princess?" Yujin asks as she looks at Wonyoung and gives another drag of her wet tongue on your cock.

"Hey, you said daddy came inside you first. And you ruined my car, so I think it's only fair if I get the rest—"

Yujin doesn't even look too bothered as they rise back up together, giggling as they lean in to share a heated kiss, sharing the flavor on each other's lips. "Always a greedy little brat, aren't you?"

"Can you blame me?” Wonyoung replies back, brushing her nose against Yujin’s. “When daddy loves filling us up, it makes it so hard not to be. And besides, you know there's plenty more..." 

Even as many times as you've been drained today, it still doesn't make much difference—one look at Wonyoung with those legs, water dripping down her pale flesh and Yujin with her hands all over that soft skin, and you feel just as insatiable as they always do.

You're content to be just a spectator, for now, or at least try to be while the two take all the room under the shower head, kissing slow and deep. Yujin takes hold of Wonyoung’s slender waist, always so easy to grip, and pulls her close, the other hand landing a sharp smack on her ass as the sound echoes through the steamy stall.

"D-do that again."

"No."

"Do it," Wonyoung whines. Yujin doesn't miss a beat, doing just that to make Wonyoung gasp out loud and give her the satisfaction of spanking her harder than before. Even better that she can't help the whimper that follows.

"You really are a slut," Yujin laughs, hand spanking her a third time. 

"Like you don't like when daddy makes your ass red, Yujinnie. Like I don't hear the way you beg when he fucks your ass in our kitchen..."

"Point taken," Yujin says, all giggles and gives a few more smacks across each cheek, letting you watch the flesh jiggle before giving one more final loud slap. And now you're really thankful for how long this hot water lasts, the temperature not dipping at all, not even when they both turn to face you and you get an eyeful of their dripping wet, perfect bodies all glistening underneath the running water. 

"You’re staring too much, daddy," Wonyoung purrs, that same bratty attitude with her hands all over Yujin's body, groping whatever part she can, no regard for modesty when the two are just as horny and desperate. “Or are you ready to go again so soon?” 

"Pretty sure his balls have been drained enough today," Yujin says, dipping a finger inside Wonyoung in a torturous, slow movement so she can enjoy the wetness. "Daddy's been so spoiled.” 

“S-shit, never enough. Can never have daddy fill me enough.” 

Yujin couldn’t agree any more.

“Look at you, princess,” Yujin murmurs, stopping mid-stroke. “You’re drenched. That greedy little cunt didn’t get enough?” 

“What do you think, Yuj—ah, fuck!” 

Your eyes go right between those slender legs where Yujin works her open, the wet squelch of Wonyoung's cunt the best sound heard over the fall of water in this shower. 

"Still so wet, princess. That big cock must have done a number on you. How many times did you cum all over it? Two? Three? A dozen?” 

Wonyoung gasps and clutches at your forearm, nails digging right into your skin for support. And Yujin takes that as an invitation, dropping to her knees right under the spray. 

Wall at your back, you hold Wonyoung by her hips and keep her steady while Yujin eats her out.

There’s nothing restrained about it. The sound of water hitting tile gets easily drowned out by the slick, lewd noises between Wonyoung’s wet, creamy thighs. You can feel her tense up, how she tries to stay upright but fails, her legs buckling with every flick.

Her head falls back against you, these beautiful whimpers that escape while Yujin is relentless, one arm hooked around Wonyoung’s thigh to keep her from squirming away. "Y-Yujin, I-I can't, oh god, I’m gonna fall—” 

Breathing right in her ear, you tighten your grip, fingers digging deep into the wet flesh as you keep Wonyoung held up. "You won't."

Yujin just keeps at it, tongue buried deep, lips latched tight, licking right at her throbbing little clit, listening to the way she falls apart so easy from a simple swipe. It’s beautiful how fast it can happen, just how much Yujin can break through Wonyoung's feisty exterior like it's nothing.

"I think we’re the ones who are spoiled with how good this pussy tastes," Yujin says between long laps, barely giving a break to catch her breath. You're only there to help, to keep Wonyoung from toppling over, holding her steady for Yujin to devour. 

“Y-Yujinnie, f-fuck—don’t stop,” Wonyoung breathes out as she grinds helplessly against the tongue ruining her. “Please don’t stop.” 

How could she ever? Even as the sounds in the shower grow louder, more desperate, your attention is solely focused right on Wonyoung, listening to her lose all control and composure so easily. Yujin licks right at her core a little faster, lapping all over, humming with satisfaction in the taste that this needy girl provides.

"Hold her tighter," Yujin instructs as she delivers a harsh slurp on Wonyoung's sensitive clit, one that causes a sharp intake of breath that fills the whole room. “She’s shaking.”

Of course she is—anyone would if they had Yujin's mouth right between their legs, giving everything she has, nails digging in a bit into Wonyoung’s thigh, keeping her exactly where she wants her. Without pause, her tongue darts back in, swirling around that sensitive nub, and hitting the spots she knows will cause the most damage.

And the best part is, you get a closeup view when this orgasm tears right through the pretty girl that's rapidly falling apart right in your arms. 

So you do nothing but hold Wonyoung tight, pressing kisses into her exposed neck, a mark or two forming wherever you decide to suck that gets her moaning a bit too loud.

Yujin is nothing but merciless. The more Wonyoung's toes curl, the louder her voice gets, the more frantic Yujin laps, fast swipes, more drawn-out flicks. Then her tongue buries inside her again, never a moment to rest, only devouring her dripping cunt to give her exactly what she deserves.

You can feel the shudders, how Wonyoung is so overcome from this sensation, writhing between your grasp. And it's happening sooner than expected, the little cries erupting through her moans, the desperation seeping in as her body starts to falter.

"Think she’s about to cum—aren’t you, princess?” you ask, kissing right behind Wonyoung's ear, that spot where you know she’s the most sensitive. Wonyoung can't respond with anything but broken moans, so Yujin does it for her.

"Good, want my fucking tongue all over her pretty pussy when she does. Want her to gush all over me." Yujin doesn't slow down for anything, doesn't miss a single moment. Not when those thighs tremble, not when her breath hitches.

"S-so close," Wonyoung whines out, in her cute, desperate voice, knowing it'll drive Yujin's efforts even more. She says little between her loud slurps, keeping a hand on Wonyoung’s quivering thigh to help stabilize the poor thing. 

“You wanna cum, princess? Show us how good this is making you feel."

An all-out assault comes on her clit before she can even think of a response. Every single flick of her tongue, everything Yujin can throw her way. Wet, sloppy, utterly obscene sounds echo and fill up the room, sounding more pathetic, more erratic the closer Wonyoung gets, trying to buck those hips further against Yujin's skilled mouth.

No restraint left for Wonyoung to carry as she lets loose at the speed Yujin fucks her sopping wet pussy with her tongue. Those long, slender fingers clutch right at the back of Yujin's head, fumbling through strands of damp hair to anchor her close to her cunt. 

It all just feeds Yujin to make her lose it. 

All it takes is one last, achingly long lick—Yujin's tongue dragging up from her drooling slit, then sealing tight around her clit. That's what sets the fireworks off, a gentle squeeze of her thigh to send the floodgates free. Wonyoung can’t stop from shaking uncontrollably, and you struggle to hold her upright with just how strong these sensations hit. 

Wonyoung cums hard—trembling in your arms, toes digging into the wet tiles beneath her feet while those pretty features contort. Her breaths come out in heavy pants with an overwhelming craving for Yujin's tongue, and gives every drop she releases, everything spilled into her mouth, cumming on her face, soaking everywhere her tongue makes contact.

It's beautiful to watch when she shatters completely. You try your best to keep Wonyoung upright as the violent spasms flow through her, legs all but useless as those moans let out right into the steam surrounding her. 

"Your cunt tastes so good when you cum, princess," she praises as her tongue swipes all over those soaked folds, cleaning up whatever she can. It’s too much for Wonyoung, and Yujin is far too good at knowing how to make this high linger, her movements not slowing in the slightest. 

And Wonyoung is so beautiful the way she trembles, face flushed, full lips parted, chest heaving when her cunt spills into Yujin’s insatiable mouth nonstop. 

Yujin won’t let up, that throbbing clit not leaving her lips until she's dragged out the most pathetic whimpers she can. The sounds are simply too irresistible, the cries and pleas only growing the harder Yujin slurps—knowing her favorite place is in between these thighs that can't stop violently spasming.

"F-fuck—enough. Stop. Please," Wonyoung whines out, fully leaning against you and almost impossible to balance between the two of you. Yujin does eventually, but not until she's made sure to lick every single part clean, only pulling away when those lips glisten with Wonyoung, and not a single drop is wasted.

After it's all over, Yujin lifts her head up and laughs, kissing up the porcelain skin of Wonyoung’s body yet to stop shaking, moving up to share her taste. "Our pretty, spoiled little brat. Always looks so perfect when she's making a mess," Yujin says when they break apart, dipping a finger back right into her warmth to get a little extra overstimulation out of her. 

"N-not my fault you're both so good at making me feel good. Have to be greedy when—when both of you ruin me so fucking well."

It's cute, to say the least. How overwhelmed and wrecked Wonyoung gets, trying so hard not to act desperate and failing every time.

You have not a thing to add, enjoying the view far more than anything else, while these two share a moment under the running water. Yujin wipes the tears in Wonyoung's eyes, kisses being placed against the pretty streaks down her face. "We didn't really get cleaned up here, did we?"

"We never do..." Wonyoung answers.

Now you're the one planting kisses on Wonyoung's wet skin, working your way from the spot behind her neck. Over her shoulders, down her bare back, Yujin does the same while she stands there, basking in the shower of attention both of you provide. 

"We should get you home, Wonyoungie. Get some food in you, get some rest. Your poor cunt could use a break."

Wonyoung laughs through a sniffle, with barely enough energy to get a nod out. "My legs don't work."

"You'll live," Yujin fires back, savoring the final moments of the hot water before she shuts the shower off. She grabs a towel to dry a helpless Wonyoung, then herself, while the two of you help her to the bench, right over the mess of clothes. 

"Oh yeah—daddy met someone, today. After he fucked me silly. Someone you might remember," Wonyoung says. Yujin can't help but be curious as she finishes drying off.

"Who?"

Wonyoung also can't help but look cute with a towel wrapped around her head as she sits down. "Gaeulie. You know, our old roommate. The shy nerdy girl from back when we started our first year here."

And Yujin is quiet for a second. A quick, subtle moment that lasts as long as her drying. "How could I forget? Girl ate pussy like her life depended on it. The quiet ones are always the biggest freaks in bed, I swear."

"She wasn't that shy," Wonyoung starts, fighting through a giggle at how utterly tired she looks. "When she was staring at daddy's cock after she walked in on us."

Well, now you just want to curl into a ball and disappear, now that this conversation is out in the open. Yujin doesn't show an ounce of hesitation to cackle. "Do I even wanna know where that happened?"

You give a stare. A bit of a plea for Wonyoung to leave the details a mystery. But it's pointless.

"The library, the one daddy said you were studying in earlier. All the way upstairs where that art section is that nobody fucking goes to. He fucked me right on the table that was apparently Gaeul's favorite study spot. Like, full on ruined it."

"Hey, you're the one that came all over it first, princess. No warning, just fucking flooded it," you reply, taking over the explanation. 

"Not my fault you were fucking me so hard. You should already know how easy it is to make me gush in public.” 

Shameless. Even when the exhaustion is setting in. Towels thrown on the ground, you think there's been enough public shenanigans for one day. You could use a night in—maybe an entire week. Some food, a nice, clean bed to spend lots of time curled up with these two brats, not even thinking about classes tomorrow.

By the time the three of you stumble in through the front door, Wonyoung can barely make it to the couch, mumbling something incoherent about ‘five orgasms in an hour is a crime,' before collapsing face down in the cushions. You'll carry her the rest of the way to the bedroom, you suppose. Up every step, down the hallway, right into the Yujin-scented sheets, as she gets to the business of ordering food. 

“Don’t forget my iced americano,” Wonyoung groans into the sheets. 

Yujin pauses at the edge of the bed, laughing as she starts scrolling through the menu. “It’s already pretty late. You really wanna be up all night?” There’s nothing but an incoherent sound as Wonyoung fades deeper into the pillows. 

She’s hopeless.

Setting the phone on the nightstand, Yujin perks up with this flirty little smile that overtakes her features, before she lies back and drags you down with her. "Food will take about an hour, so we have time. Which means—" 

You don’t even need to hear the rest of that sentence. Because now Yujin gets you alone again. 

Well, alone is a generous term. Wonyoung is just a few feet away in a sprawled-out heap, but very much not conscious, clinging to a pillow and drifting out of the conversation. "Whenever you wanna join in, princess, feel free." 

Maybe the idea of that will bring her back. Yujin kisses her on the forehead and brushes some hair away that’s fallen before returning her attention right to you. 

"So, daddy, she's exhausted, you're still hard…” Oh, there’s that look again, the one that ensures neither of you will get any rest any time soon. “We might as well find a way to pass the time. No holding back.” 

As if you’re not already craving her, stripping her down in seconds, kissing every inch of that sinful body and exploring those decadent curves. 

Throw your clothes somewhere, anywhere, as long as you get inside Yujin fast. Pin her knees to her chest, fold her in half and fuck her into the mattress until she can't do anything but scream your name. Make her cum more times than she can handle. Make her tight pussy flood the sheets until they're ruined, until she's ruined—that cunt so wet you can barely keep your cock inside. 

Fuck her right next to Wonyoung—your cock hammering so deep that Yujin can't stop shaking, your balls can't stop slapping against her ass, her voice can't stop falling apart. 

This slur of obscenities that gets reduced to ‘harder, daddy,” and ‘ruin me like you do Wonyoung’ until the sounds of hot flesh on hot flesh slapping together get deafening. You’ll give her everything she wants, spoil her, fuck her senseless and drive your cock so hard that there’s a modicum of worry that you’ll break the bed. 

Even if you did, that would only be a bonus. When you can turn that sweet smile into something so depraved, make her legs shake when you pound her so hard and deep. And she’ll beg for more, whimper with every breath, clutch at the sheets while you use her, every thrust unforgiving, every single slam an echoing thud against the wall. 

She’s still coherent when you’re about ready to fill her up, which means you’re not fucking her hard enough. And she’ll tell you the same, blur the lines between a plea and demand. 

“Fucking cum inside me, you’re not done pounding me until I’m dripping you everywhere—“ That’s what she says to get what she wants. Nothing new, but still enough to keep your hips moving, keep her legs folded in the air, keep her toes curling when  Yujin just can’t stop cumming on your cock. 

You’ll oblige, because all you can think of is unloading inside that tight, little warm cunt, fucking your seed deep, keeping her bent in half so obscenely, so her womb gets everything you give her, not a drop escaping. You’ll fuck her through all the creaks, even when she gets so impossibly slick with how hard you’re ravaging that warm little hole, feet dangling helplessly in the air through every single gasp and daddy. Those beautiful sounds. 

But the best sound is Wonyoung stirring to life next to you. Just to watch Yujin get her creamy little cunt destroyed—watch you bury every fucking inch in that tight fucking heat. 

"Yujin—" 

With Wonyoung’s eyes wide and locked on the depravity of this scene, watching Yujin folded in half, legs thrown up, pussy stretched and dripping as your cock slams into her, and the wet smack of your thrusts echoing through the room—you can’t hold back. Can’t do anything but bury yourself balls fucking deep and unload, groaning as you fill her up while Wonyoung watches it all. Eyes glued while you fuck this satisfaction deeper, already overflowing, pooling on the sheets that have no chance of surviving.

One more greedy orgasm for Yujin when it all spills inside, eyes rolling back, clenching hard to help milk your throbbing cock dry. 

"S-so fucking full, daddy—so warm, so deep, fuck, feels so good…” Even after that delicious cunt empties you, twitching around your cock as it milks the last remnants of cum from your balls, Yujin keeps clenching hard—greedy, insatiable, her body refusing to let you slip out. Her legs shift when they fall down, wrapping around your waist to keep you buried deep. 

You kiss Yujin while you still throb in that mess you’ve left in her, those delicious thighs far too powerful to let you escape. Which you’re more than happy to linger here, even with Wonyoung to the side. 

"Fucking wrecked me," Yujin gasps through a smile, no concern for anything but keeping you trapped inside. “Those poor balls just can’t stay full around us, can they?” 

Not a chance. 

"You two were so loud," Wonyoung chimes in, sitting up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "Like, can't pretend to not notice, kind of loud."

Yujin, all naked and sweaty, laughs and leans in to kiss Wonyoung on the cheek while she tries to catch her breath. "You were louder earlier, brat." 

Then it’s quiet for a solitary moment. Just the sound of your breathing, the fan overhead, Yujin's playful little giggle in the aftermath. Those legs still wrapped tight, your cock still buried, still throbbing—

The doorbell rings downstairs. 

You forgot all about the food. The timing is impeccable. You can't possibly be expected to leave the bed like this, and neither can Yujin. Wonyoung groans when the realization sets in, and Yujin tosses a smile her way. 

"Princess, would you mind getting the door?"

A heavy sigh falls out as Wonyoung reluctantly detangles herself, somehow the least wrecked of the three. "Wonyoung to the rescue once again, because you two idiots fucked each other senseless."

Yujin nuzzles against the nape of her neck, brushing kisses over the warm skin to show her appreciation. "Be careful carrying the bag, might be too heavy..." she warns while Wonyoung glares as best she can. Sauntering out of bed, Wonyoung just scoffs with a little bit of extra hesitation in her step. 

"Just because I'm the only one who can still use their legs—" she grumbles as she heads down the stairs to get the door open, one step at a time. "Doesn't mean I have to do everything."

"Thanks, princess."

It's morning. Monday morning to be exact. 

You're naked, Yujin isn’t. She’s still getting ready for class when you find her, that sinful pair of lingerie you bought her last week hugging her curves just right. The light purple looks so good against her soft skin, wrapped in lace and devilish temptations. She doesn’t even notice you at first, adjusting a strap.

“You weren’t supposed to see this yet,” she says, catching your stare in the mirror. But Yujin doesn’t cover up, doesn't blush. She just smirks, lets the moment simmer, lets you stare. You step in close, pressing up against her body from behind—drinking in the view of those wide hips where the lace barely hides the full curves of her ass, the fabric almost daring to be pulled aside.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t walk around in it,” you reply back, not bothering to be subtle in the way your hands slide down, squeezing her ass while she melts under your touch.

“Not my fault you have no self-control, daddy. Still hard? Wonyoungie didn't do a good enough job taking care of that?" Yujin asks, her voice getting far too sultry this early.

"That mouth drives me fucking crazy, but—"

Yujin doesn't even turn around, hand reaching back to give a firm, forceful grasp that drives a groan right past your lips. "But you need someone to properly take care of this?" she continues for you, glancing up through the reflection while your breath hitches with her perfect grip. 

"Something like that." 

Those soft, cute giggles are always your favorite thing to hear in the morning. Even while she pushes her hips back against you, grinding enough to feel your hardness. “I’ve got ten minutes. Think that’s enough time to do something about this?” 

She knows it’s plenty. 

Yujin stares in the mirror as you grab her hips, and slide your cock right in the gap between her delicious thighs, all silky and warm. Not saying a word, she just bends a little, her thighs clenching so all that supple flesh traps your shaft tight, just how you like them. And then the soft little moans she makes when you graze against her cunt and thrust forward are heaven, the lace enough of a tease. 

Your hands tighten around her as you take the lead, pumping through that velvety flesh and fucking Yujin’s thighs, slow, deliberate drags back, slamming forward when you need more. It’s this combination of your moans and the friction of your cock dragging through her thighs that fills the space. Her hands flatten on the countertop, leaning her weight into it, so you can use her like this—more leverage to drive in between. 

Yujin doesn't even need to do anything. Just stand there, watch your face twist in pleasure, and look pretty. 

"God, daddy," Yujin murmurs, lips parted when you graze against the right spot. “You’re such a menace in the morning."

You can hardly even think straight to respond to that. "You show up in the bathroom wearing this, and you expect me not to be? Look at these thighs, Yujin. Can't blame a guy for going crazy over these."

"Can't a girl just look sexy without you wanting to blow a fat load all over them?" she asks, with this mocking bat of her eyelashes, through every long, overwhelming stroke of your dick between those succulent thighs. "Poor daddy. So obsessed with fucking my thighs that he'll do anything for it."

She says that like there's not a gasp or moan leaving her every few thrusts while you do so. No—she wants this as much as you. The fabric of her panties gets wetter by the second, but Yujin just smiles to herself, keeping herself braced on the vanity counter while you thrust—those heavenly thighs only encouraging your lust and desperation. 

You’ve completely lost control, pace quickening without thought as your hands clamp down on her hips, fingers digging in. Every time your cock glides through that soft, pillowy flesh, a shameless groan escapes at how you can’t stand how good Yujin feels, only getting better. 

"Don't ruin these pretty panties, daddy—they're my new favorite. Haven't even gotten to leave the house with them on, yet."

Oh, like you care. Like she cares. So much prettier if there's a huge stain covering them from your load, and she'd agree. Not that there's a chance of holding back, not when Yujin feels so perfect, when her thighs suffocate your cock so well.

"Too late."

They're ruined before you even get there—you thrust harder, fucking her silky-smooth thighs so fast that her ass jiggles just a little more each time you're buried between them. Yujin watches you fall apart, eyes locked on the mirror on how your cock thrusts between her thighs, matching your desperation with how she whimpers from her own sensitive clit rubbing against the lace so soaked and dripping wet.

Those thighs trap your dick as you fuck them faster, rougher, rapid thrusts plunging between the flawless skin, each stroke more frantic than the last. The friction, the heat, the way she squeezes around you—it’s too much. Her ass bounces with every thrust, right until the moment where you’re about to lose it all. There's only a split-second before it's too late to warn—a quiet groan into Yujin's ear.

And then, you erupt.

Bursting hard right between her thighs, over the expensive fabric, throbbing as you release a mess of thick, pearly spurts all over those poor panties. They're covered in you. She'll never wear these without remembering your hands gripping her hips, your seed clinging to every thread of fabric, smearing between her thighs. 

“Daddy really ruined these,” Yujin says, like she’s not the one still helping milk your cock with her thighs as your cum stains them, a stray spurt that hits the mirror that only makes her smile widen. "Fuck, I can feel you everywhere. Just covered in daddy's cum..." 

And you’re not the least bit apologetic. 

Not when you’re still throbbing between her thighs, with this sticky load that clings to the lace. “Almost as good as filling that tight little pussy. Unless you want that next.”  

Only then does your cock slip free, so Yujin can turn around and glance at you properly, giving a good look at the mess you’ve made on her. "Too bad we have class, then. Unless… we're planning to skip so you can finish what you've started."

That'd be so damn tempting. To stay in the bathroom with Yujin, rip those ruined panties right off and fuck her over the sink until you fill her over and over. But the responsibilities weigh more heavily—and so much work lies ahead if you miss a lecture. 

"Another time, Yujinnie. Gotta leave something for you to drain later.” 

The little pout that she gives is almost enough to make you change your mind. So is that smile. "Aw, look at daddy, being all boring and responsible.” 

"Forgive me. Maybe I can rail you in the bathroom between classes if you're a good girl." 

"And when has that ever happened? Me, good? Have I ever not been a complete handful?" Yujin reminds you. 

Never, of course. You’d be shocked if she suddenly turned over a new leaf—and honestly, a little disappointed. This is the girl who drops to her knees while the coffee’s still brewing, who’ll let you fuck her face while the bagels toast. 

The same girl who will slip a hand down your pants in the middle of class and jerk you off with a straight face, chewing her pen while pretending to take notes. Yujin isn't the type of girl to listen and behave. 

And you'd never want her to be. 

[oreo-creampies]

“𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cam girl!reader, daddy/princess, satoru jerks off on live, squirting, edging, overstimulation, orgasm control, dacryphilia, light mind break, praise & degradation go hand in hand, anal, oral from the back, jerking off

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Hi, I love your works, would you consider writing about where the girl is a camgirl and the jjk men taking turn to make her cum and squirt by tipping her so they basically control the toys she has in her? I feel like you would be the perfect writer to write that kind of stuff.

𝐟𝐞𝐲: hi! :) I did this one separately, where they control when you cum, and they are either watching or recording with you. Since I don’t think they could all make the reader character squirt five times back to back. Hope you don’t mind the change and enjoy it anyway.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Come bidding war night Satoru dominated your stream. Making tonight another to add underneath the 'sugardaddy_69 bullies whore into tears' playlist.

Gliding his fist along his veiny long cock, his tip getting pinker the longer he pushes off cumming. He isn't letting you cum despite how you're begging. You sound too sexy, "Please daddy, need to!" The control he has over your pleasure is too sweet.

If only he could replace the dildo slowly fucking your beautiful, dripping wet cunt. He could squeeze your squishy thighs, bite your hip's soft crease, and take his time ruining you on camera.

Clinging onto the blanket beneath you, your slick dripping down your trembling thighs. "Please Daddy needacum I'm so close." You're slurring your words together, crying in desperation. Turning the toy off when he doesn't respond fast enough. Spreading your lips apart showing the camera your spasming cunt.

mommy_milkers22 donates 3,000: let her cum already got damn! wana see her pussy gush!

Gliding the still, long thick dildo into your cunt with a loud squelch. Turning the machine, it pace gets faster with each stroke. Your eyes roll back, and your loud moan almost makes him cum.

Quickly Satoru pays more than enough to get his way. Turning on his camera, already perfectly angled. It would be easy to get you to film with him after you took one look at his muscular body and long, veiny cock.

sugardaddy_69 donates 10,000: nice try, her cunt is mine. don't cum yet, keep fucking your beautiful cunt n check my account for my live stream

Leaning back and stroking his cock, watching you struggle to focus. Loudly moaning, gliding his hand along his cock. Pre-cum pearling on his pink cockhead. "Been edging myself too. You've been such a good girl. Cum right now and I'll fly you out to fuck you senseless." Your beautiful cunt gushes.

Satoru tugs on his fluffy hair, biting his lip, the veins in his cock pulse, and thick white cum spurts on his chiseled abs. Giving himself a few more strokes until it's too much. Smirking at your answer in his post nut haze.

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Trembling, your cunt clenching with each quick stroke. Gliding your dripping wet cunt on his veiny, thick cock by your hips. The sweet ache of Toji's merciless way of using your squelching cunt like it's a fleshlight adds to the pleasure.

Creaming on his thick cock, "That's how many?" Your toes curl from the way his cock head brushes your cervix. He's going painfully pleasurable deep into your cunt. You can't focus on coming up with an answer when his cock is stirring your pussy and brains up.

"If you can't count, you can't cum. Don't make me stop when your slopping cunt is trying to milk my cock." Whining, clenching his cock, eliciting a raspy groan from Toji.

Moaning, "Fiiive!" Slamming you down hard on his cock, rutting his hips up. His skin slaps yours. Your eyes roll back, toes curling, thighs trembling. "Nnn Daddy don't stop! Want everyone to see how big a slut I am for your cock!" Getting off on knowing there are several thousand people masturbating to you getting fucked stupid.

Toji grunts, "This is how you're supposed to fuck a whore." Rubbing your clit, your cunt spasm, clenching Toji's cock like you're pulsing. The building pleasure is too intense and you want it to crush you, and make your brain dead. You didn't need to think, you need to cum on Toji's thick cock.

"Look at your sloppy cunt taking my cock." Toji turns his head. Your cunt is so beautiful stretched wide by Toji's wet, veiny pale cock fucking into you. His cock is so big. How is your pussy fitting all of him?

Your tight cunt tugging he tries to bottom out. He groans, "Love the way she's too tight to let me go. Might have to stuff you full of cum." The thought pushes you over the edge. Thick cum gushes on Toji's cock, dripping onto the floor.

The computer chimes, "addicted_towhores420 paid 2,500 said: don't stop, break her cunt, cum in your whore. I want to see it drip out from between her lips when you pull out and she's gapping from being used." Your cunt clenches around Toji's cock.

"Please cum! Please cum! Wanna fill your warm cum drip outta my pussy." Fucking you faster with each word that comes out of your mouth till you can't speak. Moaning loudly, you can't think with how roughly Toji is fucking your overly sensitive cunt.

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

There is nowhere to move despite not being tied up. Trapped between Suguru's handsome face and the edge of the bed. Bent over occasionally reading the chat and watching Suguru eat your cunt till she's sloppy on stream.

He's filling your asshole with a pulsing, thick dildo. You could feel its powerful vibration in your cunt, clenching Suguru's pierced tongue. You're losing your mind from Suguru's relentlessly stoking your sweet spot with his hard metal tongue ring.

Your thighs are trembling. Rutting your hips against the edge of the bed. Clawing at the sheets. Reading out, "Can't believe she's trying to run away." Furrowing your brows, clenching Suguru's tongue. The soreness to your abused cunt adds to your pleasure.

Looking at the camera whining, "Can't help it. It's too much, Daddy's tongue feels too good! Can't cum! Wanna cum! Too much! Already cummed too much!" Your jaw drops and intense pleasure consumes you.

Squirting on Suguru's face, he tightens his grasp on your squishy thigh. Fucking the dildo into your ass quicker, twisting it. Both holes clenching, quivering, desperately trying to jerk your hips away.

You push Suguru's head back, tangling your fingers in his long hair. He groans into your cunt, gliding his tongue out. Licking your lips clean, rubbing your sensitive clit. Crying, glitching away from the intense pleasure.

Burying your face into the bed when he pulls away. Your wiggles settle into quivers, "We not done yet sweetheart." He pushes the dildo up to the hilt. Groaning, " Can't get enough of makin' you cum. Need to feel your sloppy cunt squeezin' my cock till it's too much for me to handle."

Lining his cock up, swiping it between your plush lips. Nudging barely the tip into your sensitive cunt, his fat head warm and soft. The temptation of the pleasure stretch his thick cock gives has you pushing your hips back.

Wrapping his hand around your neck, gradually choking you. "Good girl, take your daddy's cock. I'm gonna fuck ya till you can't walk, break your beautiful cunt, fill her up, then eat her out some more." Lifting your body, holding you off the ground, keeping you bent over, fucking you like he hates you.

Oreo’s m.list

[kenyummy]

✰ 01. the ballad of a bygone blight.

✰ ꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ platonic yandere batfam / spider! reader ꒱

✰ 01. sparkless life.

SYNOPSIS : being spidey isn't easy. being transported into an alternate universe where you're nothing but a shadow in your house, makes sneaking around a little easier... until you find yourself the apple of their eye... kind of.

note: guys i couldnt resist posting criesssss . also master is used as a gender neutral term!!!! couldn't be bothered to put master/mistress every time so

prev. ✰ masterlist. ✰ next.

When you wake up, your eyes are permeated by a hard light. Your eyes are squinted hard and you're having a difficult time getting your eyes to focus.

Your brain is fuzzy and feels like melted candy in your head. What was going on, again...? This bed... it's really comfy. It's like laying on a bed made of clouds, fairy dust, and your hopes and dreams.

(Nothing like your lumpy mattress back home... May told you it built character.)

You reach your hand up, to try and block out the harsh glare directed right into your retina. It dims in a second, and for a moment—you think you've finally developed mutant powers of telekinesis. You sit up—only to discover you were not actually the one who turned off said lights.

"Apologies, Master [name]." An older man with a distinct British accent stands in the door—a few feet away from the bed you're resting on. "I did not realise you had awoken already. I would've turned down the lights, if I was aware."

You blink, surveying the room around you. It's big. Unfamiliar, as well. Modern. Really big. Wait, did he just call you—

"Master [name]?" Your mouth moves faster than your mind, and your brows furrow deep. "What... where am I?"

The older man looks genuinely puzzled at how defensive your stance is. "Oh dear. Perhaps you did end up getting lead poisoning. Or a concussion. ... No matter. This recent amnesia is common within traumatic injuries."

He clears his throat with strict elegance and straightens his posture, "[name]. I believe you were attacked in an alleyway, when your brother found you. You were in the hospital for a few days, and brought back here—back home—this morning. You're currently in one of your father's guest rooms. The doctors said you were healing miraculously fast."

You hiss lowly. You really hope they hadn't gotten a blood sample—you haven't had the best of experiences with people getting your blood.

"You seem to be alright now. A bit..." He looks at your exposed, scarred shoulders. "Scuffed up—but better than when Master Jason had found you."

Your brother... Jason...? Who even...?

What's going on here?

Your heart seems to skip a beat as the calculations start going off in your head. A world you had never heard of... a place you'd never seen before—perhaps you weren't on a different world, and like you had suspected... it was definetly some multiverse shenanigans again.

You knew you should've made Jess take that mission instead of you. Damn. You and your dumb rivalry with Doc.

But you couldn't understand why this random man knows you. He speaks as if you've lived a life with him—like he's known you since...

You chew down on your bottom lip. "... This is... my home. I live here, don't I...?"

You play with words cautiously, speaking slow and methodical. It only serves to confuse the man even further.

"Yes, you... do? Master [name], perhaps you should go back to the hospital. You're sounding rather frazzled—"

You almost jump up, out of the sheets, "Uh—no! I... I'm fine. My head's just a bit... messed up right now. Sorry."

It's not—after that flashbang, you're feeling fine. Your shoulder only burns with a stretch whenever you put too much pressure on it—but you're completely okay otherwise. But you don't think you should let him know that just yet.

"If you insist, Master [name]." He bows his head. "Do you require any further assistance?"

You blink, considering your choices.

Eventually, you land on the safest option. Search your surroundings. Find out what's going on here before going all Spider-ham on them. For all you know—they're super skrulls waiting for the right moment to strike. You need to be smart about this.

"Yes... I would like to go to my room... could you... walk me there?" You don't meet his stern gaze. "I'm not sure I'm able to walk on my own two feet just yet. I'm sorry."

You don't see how his stare softens at your words. "Of course, Master [name]."

He walks over to the edge of the bed and steadies you with a hand on your shoulder as you shakily stumble out of the bed. It's bouncy enough to launch you forward slightly—and it takes every muscle in your body to stop your Spidey-instincts from taking over and jumping backwards.

He slips your arm within his and steadies you as you both slowly walk out of the large guest room. If this was a guest room—you wonder what your room looked like.

The hallways weren't anything to sneeze at, either. Decorated with contemporary art pieces—sleek and so shiny you could see your face in the tiles below your bare feet. You felt so out of place—the civilian clothes you sported since you got here still dressed your body, and it wasn't even close to fitting in.

As you stumble down the halls with a bit of overdramacy, a man suddenly appears from around a corner. Deep black hair and the brightest blue eyes you'd ever seen. His smile is wide and he waves enthusiastically, "Hey, Alfred! I got back from Blüdhaven after uh—I heard what happened."

"Hello, Master Dick. It's lovely to see you back home again." Alfred nods his head. The man in question—Dick, apparently, which makes the immature teen in you giggle—gives you a sorrowful expression.

But... doesn't say anything past that. He continues small talk with Alfred—and you're left propped up in the older man's arms with a lost expression.

Did he... just blow you off?

One—that was pretty rude. Two, did he not just say he came back after he heard what happened? Not to toot your own horn or anything—but you'd assume being shot kind of counts as a "what happened".

You press your lips firmly together. This was getting awkward for you, especially seeing how comfortable this huge Dick (yeah, you're taking it and running with it) seemed to be with leaving this sickly, wounded (maybe you're being a tad dramatic) person to stumble like a baby fawn, in silence.

Alfred, however—catches sight of your one-sided tension, and abruptly ends his conversation. "My apologies, Master Dick, but I must help [name] to their room. I would love to continue this conversation at a later date."

"Oh yeah, no sweat, Alfred." He gives the older man a gleeful thumbs up. Then, his eyes meet yours. "Get better soon, okay?"

You avert his stare and only nod in response. Well, at least he noticed you were there. You're still in mild shock, but you somehow manage to keep a pleasant expression. With one last small smile, Dick walks away—where, you don't really care about.

Alfred slowly helps you up a flight of stairs. He only breaks the silence after you find yourself standing in front of a room with a faded name on it. Your name. "... All these years, and only now, you've suddenly changed. I wonder..."

His words are cryptic, but his expression even more so. What was he talking about? "... Huh?"

A small smile fades on his face. "Ah... no. It's nothing. I was thinking out loud. Call me if you need anything else, Master [name]. I am at your service. And please... get better soon."

Somehow, it sounds nicer when he says it. You smile a little, and give him a nod.

"Thank you..." You test out his name on your tongue. It feels natural. "Alfred. I'll try my best."

He leaves with a curt nod and not another word. You finally slide the door open, and take a look around.

You step inside, and it's like you've entered a whole new world, again.

It's... small. Not by regular standards—it's almost double the size of your room at home—but compared to a guest bedroom in this overly massive home... it's rather small. Like a closet, more than a bedroom.

It's empty, too. Your room at home is decorated with posters and trinkets of your favourite shows, pictures of you with Harry and MJ (sometimes even the four), and memorable items you've collected with your friends and family over the years.

Memories. You had memories.

There is nothing here.

It's like you're standing in a blank slate—in a world where you are nothing and yet everything you've ever had. It sends a chill down your spine.

You walk barefoot across cold wood and take a seat on the bedsheets. Bare white with a childish print. Something a young child would use. It looks pretty scuffed up. Old. The mattress creaks under your weight and you wince.

There's a bookshelf just opposite to you. There's not much in it—in fact, it's smaller than small and is almost completely empty. There's nothing but school textbooks and thick novels. And...

It catches your eye almost immediately. A little pink slip in the midst of deep black and brown colours. You stand up—ignoring the creak that follows—and walk over to the shelf.

You slip the book out, and immediately take in its cover. Pink, and with your name in wonky cursive. It's rather dusty, as if it hadn't even been touched in years.

You flip open the cover. Big bubble letters spelling out My diary flash you and you quickly flip the page before the glitter sears into your eyelids.

The first entry is there. Exactly seven years and two months ago. It's nothing like those entries you've seen on those corny 2000's TV shows for tweens—nor is it like those aesthetic journaling girls on Pwinterest.

It's something, familiarly, you. A short clunk of text about your day, on days that had some sort of exciting event going on—something you'd undoubtedly do. It almost makes you grimace.

This whole multiverse thing might be worse than you thought.

Two days ago I moved into a new house. My mom said she couldn't take care of me anymore, and I had to live with my dad. I've never seen him until today, but he's really busy, so we don't talk much. Alfred is nice to me, and his cooking is really yummy.

There's a little sketch of a baked dinner—and despite your pre-tween art skills, it does seem rather tasty looking.

You flip the page. The next entry is a week after the last.

I still haven't talked with dad yet. But I did meet two new people. Alfred said that they're my new brothers. Mom never wanted any more babies, so I was very excited to meet them! Jason is fun to play with. He's really bad at hide and go seek, though—I always win! Dick is fun too, but he's busy a lot, like dad. But he always makes time for me and Jason. I really like it here.

There's a small picture of three stick people holding hands. One is significantly short than the other two—labelled with your name above. The one on the left to you is Jason, with black curls and a wide grin. The one on the right is labelled Dickie, much taller than the other two and with shaggy black hair.

The drawing is innocent. Cute. Wholesome, if you will. There's even heart stickers pasted (and peeling, by now) between each of your heads.

You flip the page with a small, fond smile. The next entry is three days after that one.

Dad played with me, Jason, and Dickie today. He was really bad at hide and go seek too—but Dad and Jason chased each other all around the house before I caught both of them. I was so happy I won today! Dad took us all out for dinner, even Alfred. Alfred said he only came because I always look very happy when we're together. The dinner was really yummy!!!!

The drawing underneath is a picture of what looked like a smaller version of you, standing triumphantly with a little tiara on your head.

You flip the page. This time—there's a significant gap between the dates. This was a whole 5 months after you last wrote in your diary.

I don't know where Jason is. Dad and Dickie look really sad. They've been really busy for a long time, and we don't play much anymore. The only times I see Dad is at dinner. But we don't talk. Sometimes he doesn't eat dinner, either. Alfred still puts my drawings on the fridge, and he says that Dad and Dickie are just sad now, and they'll be better soon. I miss Jason. I want him back home.

There's no silly-looking drawing to go underneath this entry. This Jason—apparently the man who saved you—seemed rather fun-loving, despite whatever happened to him. You wonder what it was.

You flip the page, again. This entry was 3 months after the last.

I miss Dad, and Dickie. Dickie told me he had to go away for a bit, because he has something important to do somewhere else. Dad is busy all the time. I haven't seen him in 4 days. I don't play with anyone but Alfred now, but he's not that fun to play with, because he's so serious all the time. Dad tells me to go on my iPad and not bother Alfred when I'm bored, but I miss them.

Next one is 2 days after.

I met a new boy today. Dad told me he's my new brother. I was pretty excited because he's my age. But he didn't want to talk to me. He said he was too caught up in important stuff, and that I should just come back later. But he looked real annoyed when saying it—so I didn't come back. He didn't say anything, so I don't think he cared.

A week later.

My dad is Batman, and my new brother is Robin. I'm freaking out. He never told me—I saw them sneaking out one day and I got really mad. Why didn't he tell me? Did Dickie and Jason know? Was I the only one who didn't? Tim got mad at me when I started yelling. I felt really sad so I hid in my room to get away from them. I've been here since. Alfred brought me dinner, but I'm not hungry.

So... this Batman who you saw before, is actually your dad? In this world, this is your father? You almost drop the diary in shock, but you can't tear your eyes away. You can't stop reading.

The next few entries don't catch your eye—it's all teen angst about how you're sick of how busy your dad is, how annoying Tim can be, how Dick won't even visit your room anymore—until something else catches your eye.

3 years later.

Jason is back. He's back home. I don't know why, but he's back. I was so excited to see him again—everyone else has become so busy and won't even talk to me. Nobody else has time for me, but Jason did. But he looked different. He's way older than me, now. He won't even look at me. I tried to hug him but he just put a mask on and walked away. Why is everyone doing this to me? What did I do? It's not fair.

Your writing grows into chicken scratch near the end—as if conveying your frustration. You skim through a few more entries. More teen angst. More about how you can't even hold a conversation with your siblings anymore.

Some were sweet, like how you met some people, unnamed, and treasured their friendship so deeply, but they were few and far between.

I met a girl today. She's my sister now. Her name is Cassandra, and she has very pretty eyes. I tried to talk to her, but dad got pretty mad at me because apparently she doesn't like to talk much. How was I supposed to know that? She didn't even look at me as dad pulled her away. Who even is she? Why does my dad like her better than me? Why does he like them all better than me? It's not fair.

You're bitter. You're upset, and so, so bitter. It's so abundantly clear that as time went on, you became progressively more and more spiteful. It was rather sad to watch.

This stupid little kid tried to kill me. Claimed I was unworthy. I couldn't give less of a shit what he thinks—but my family couldn't give less of a shit about me. They said he's troubled, that he needs patience.

The new few words were less than family friendly. Unkind? Definitely. Deserved? Possibly.

I can't believe this. I'm so sick of this. I want to get out. I can't take this anymore. Jason kills people now, but Bruce still loves him. Even Steph and Babs get more love from Bruce than me. They're not even in the family, but they're better. Because they're superheroes, they're better. Maybe I'll be a hero myself. Maybe then, they'll see me.

You flip the page. That's the last entry. The last page of the book—but behind it, there's a page made of sticky notes on the back cover. Your eyes widen in shock at what you see.

It's all...

"Spidey," you read out the name atop this pasted page in a low whisper.

Your fingertips trace over the detailed drawings. Your costume. Though not made of nanotech—the suit was intricately designed with spider patterns falling all around your arms and legs, with a large spider torso. It looked somewhat like Silk's suit.

Web shooters, with thorough calculations on how much you'd have to bulk up to swing without taking your arm off (which, by what you're reading, was humanly impossible for a regular you), and detailed explanations on what the web fluid was made out of.

More environmentally sustainable than your ones. You'd have to take these notes back home.

It wasn't like your family would go looking—you can't help but think, chewing on your cheek. This was incredible. You must've been a real genius to figure all this out.

Back home, you had Reed and Tony help you with all your spider stuff. Sure, you were the one who came up with all the base ideas and constructed it all yourself—but they helped out a lot with all the technicalities. But to come up with something like, from what you can tell, all on your own...

It was nothing short of incredible. And your family had no idea.

You snap the book shut, eyes narrowing down at the ground. Your Aunt May never would've treated you like this—and if you were correct, this other you must be with your aunt right now.

Good for them, you think. Maybe they'd be happier there, anyway.

A sudden knock at your door brings you out of your stupor. You slip the book away quickly as Alfred opens the door, bowing his head slightly. "Master [name], dinner is ready. If you're feeling better, please come down."

The prospect of a family dinner leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, especially after all you've read from this diary. No matter. You don't know how this you behaved before, but you have bigger issues to deal with than becoming a copy of this sad child.

But despite everything... Alfred really did seem to care for them—for you. You nod, smoothing out your cami. "Thanks. Let's go."

You and he both head down the stairs, and you finally come face to face with the family you've heard so much about.

They're all grinning from ear-to-ear, laughing about something that "happened on patrol" as you take a seat at the end of the table—beside a blonde girl who you think was called Stephanie—chewing on the food.

It was good. Really good. Almost as good as Aunt May's meatloaf. The thought makes you feel a little homesick, but you persevere. The hard glare given to you across the table by this small kid (definitely Damian) isn't helping, though.

Dick catches the look and follows his little brothers gaze to you. He doesn't say anything about it—only ruffles the boy's hair, chuckling, and asks why he seems so glum. The child hisses and starts trying to stab the man with a steak knife, to no avail—of course.

That was the last time you were even glanced at for the rest of the dinner. You almost can't believe it. How could somebody really fade into the background like that? How could such a family let it happen?

How could they be so ignorant? You lose your appetite soon enough, and stand up. The chatter dies down for a second. Stephanie—being the closest toward you, gives you an uncomfortable smile, "Are you not going to finish? You were out for a while... you need energy to get back up and do..."

Whatever it is you do at home, you guess that's probably what she was thinking. Who said you hadn't gotten a telepathic mutation?

She doesn't finish her sentence. You'd just met these people and already you were sick of this. Seriously, you don't think you could get any more uncomfortable if somebody strapped you to a chair and tossed you down a dark well.

You miss the most fantastic of fours you know. They'd never do this to you. Sue was far too sweet.

You shake your head, plate held tight in your hand. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. There's much more important things out there in Gotham, isn't there? Besides—I have more than enough time to heal. Not like I'm doing any hero stuff, huh?"

Your laugh lacks any kind of humour, and you walk out in your typical Spidey fashion. The chatter doesn't spike up for a good ten minutes until after you leave.

You meet Alfred in the kitchen, and he's doing countless dishes alone. There's a stack of plates almost as tall as he is. You roll up your sleeves.

He gives you a confused look. "Master [name]? I have told you before, you—"

"I don't care what you told me." You say, suddenly—but you backtrack when you realise how flat your tone was. Cheeks flushed, you correct yourself, "Ah—sorry. I meant... I don't care what you told me, because it doesn't matter if you don't want help... I'll offer it anyway, you know? I can't help it. It's how I am."

It's why I'm Spidey. Not because I have powers. Not because I'm good at swinging around. Not even because the costume is awesome.

It's because you can't help but help others. You have the power to do so—now it's your responsibility.

You take a sponge, and douse it in dishwashing liquid. You scrub down a porcelain plate beside Alfred in silence.

The pensive look on his face was now replaced by a small, fond smile.

we getting into the typical diary entry stuff okokokkkk but. love interests next chapter. smirks let me cook!!!@

taglist: @hello-bina @cosmosluckycharms @1abi @yhin-gg @insideoutjulie @bluepanda08 @omnivirgo @vanessa-boo @dind1n @welpthisisboring @lunaetiicsaystuff @marsmabe @atanukileaf @findingjaxx @4mrplumi

if you asked to be on the taglist but aren't there, your account couldn't be tagged for whatever reason. im not too sure how tumblr works, but if you manage to fix it, ask me again!!!

[teaeodora]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[555rare]

ASTROLOGY OBSERVATIONS PT.14

(Continued from my old account @777rare 🥂)

Teeny tiny 18+ themes here and there kids so scroll past it please, even though I know damn well you won't.

THESE NOTES ARE ONLY A STUDY OF MINE AND HAS/HAS NOT BEEN PROVEN YET, SO IF IT DOES NOT RESONATE WITH YOU, FORGIVE ME AS IT WAS ONLY A STUDY/OBSERVATION OF MINE.

I DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, COPY OR REWORD ANY OF MY FELLOW ASTROLOGY OBSERVERS POSTS AND I DEMAND THE SAME IN RETURN.

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• There are two kinds of voices for a Pisces Mercury native. Actually no, Pisces Mercury natives have many voices for different occasions like they are good at mimicry or changing their voice. But out of them all, we have 2 original voices. The Siren and the Siren. Yes, I know same word but different connotation.

જ⁀➴ The Siren🧜voice is the way they speak when they are calm and even happy. They have a sweet and soft voice that people often are drawn to as If they are Sirens but on land lol.

જ⁀➴ Then comes the Siren 🚨 voice when they are pissed off as hell hahahah. When they scream or shout while angry, believe me, they sound like sirens. You know the ones in an ambulance and buildings 😭😂.

• Capricorn Moon natives' moms are the type of moms who value finance or money very much. They are very hard to please and these natives find it so hard to impress them or make them proud of them. These natives just wanna hear their mom say 'I'm proud of you' for once at least in their life 😮‍💨🥲.

• I have never met a Capricorn big 3 who wasn't reserved and distant when it came to sharing their feelings with just anyone and crying in front of others. These people go through so much in private and they make it seem like being them is so easy on the outside to others but deep down, nobody can actually be them or take on their problems the way they do 🫣🫡.

• Leo big 3 are so so good at entertaining people. This is FACT. They are literal moods who can grab literally anyone's attention without trying and just like their sign ruler, The Sun, life often seems like it's revolving around them 🥂💃.

I have also never met a single Leo Big 3 who has never been treated like royalty, be it by literally anyone. They often get things their way and people just treat them like an expensive souvenir lol 🤌😂.

They are that one person (esp. Leo rising) who's always spoken about and praised even if all they did was lift up a piece of trash and throw it in the bin 😭🤣.

• My advice to Pisces or 12th house Sun's are just go and chill in a graveyard for a while. Trust me, this is the best medicine for you all because the energies there are actually the purest form possible.

Why? There are only souls there and everything negatively attached to the souls detach in a Graveyard because the body is returning back to its soul mother, making the soul leave the negativity of this world so there are no negative energies in a graveyard. There is only pure energy, the kind of energy that is untouched or unaffected by human presence.

Being a Pisces or 12th house Sun makes you highly sensitive to the energies around you so being in a Graveyard for a while can be very healing for you. You can meditate for a while here because you will truly connect with the divine without blockages here.

As a 12th house Sun (VEDIC CHART), I once visited a Graveyard in 2023 (That was the first time I ever visited one😅) and I felt so at peace and ease lol. I didn't wanna leave the place at all and I felt like I was myself detached from the energies of the world 🙂‍↕️.

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• Taurus or 2nd house Saturn natives have a problem with feeling valued by others in their life🫠. There's always this doubt that creeps in or this underlying insecurity where they think they aren't good enough or they have to try harder to keep others in their life.

There is this insecurity that people can replace them easily with someone else. These natives fear being looked down upon and they just want someone to appreciate how much effort they put into their work 😮‍💨🥺.

These natives love being appreciated and recognized when it comes to their talents and how much value they add to others' lives. They are truly a gift to have in ones life because once they have you, they will always invest energy in your connection without a doubt unless you degrade them or insult their hard work and talents.

They are very talented indeed with an ability to never give up no matter how hard situations get for them. They just wanna be told now and then that they are valuable and appreciated 🫂🫤.

• Mars in the 12th house or Pisces go through so many hidden battles 🫡😭. They are very private about their problems and they usually choose to suffer in silence and handle it all alone because they don't find it helpful to share their problems with others as others just give them advices.

One of my friend has this and she is very very private about her pain and her problems, but since I'm someone who she trusts, she shares her problem with me as I don't give her advice, I give her comfort without words.

The same goes for all Mars in 12th house and/or Pisces because they want comfort, not words coming out of someone's mouth and since they do not get it, they choose to deal with it on their own 😶😕.

• I have noticed fixed Mars signs (Taurus, Scorpio, Leo, Aquarius) are actually possessive and so protective of the ones they loveee ayee💃🌹. They won't just stand there and see their loved ones going through shit or being treated like shit by someone, they will literally stand up for them or become their protective shield 😤🛡️.

They also find it hard to digest the fact that there are people out there who share their romantic partner with someone else, like these natives just cannot do that 🙂‍↔️. They love a committed partner who is only theirs to love and who loves only them in the relationship. They absolutely HATE 3rd party involvement🫸.

Although, Aquarius Mars natives are very kinky in bed and are open-minded and experimentative, they choose a partner who is loyal in love 💪💖. That's the difference, they like being playful in bed but they are serious in love and prioritize loyalty.

Not to forget fixed sign Mars natives are very much fixed in their approach to sex and intimacy as well. They find it hard to be flexible or to allow absolutely anything in the bedroom, that is if you don't have heavy Pisces or Virgo placements 🥂👍.

Thankyou for reading through this today! 😊✨ I hope my sweet cherries, all had as much as fun reading this as I had making it! Love you all so much and I can't wait to see you in the next one!! 🌝

A Tarot Pac reading is coming soon by the way my cherries! Stay tuned! 💃💝

[lunarcowgirl]

don't leave me here without you | one

yeah yeah fuck me, jack abbot x f!doctor!reader

you can read part two here and part three here

dr abbot finds your resume and thinks you are leaving the pitt - absolute disgusting and pathetic behaviour ensues, its all very endearing.

~~~

from the office of the author: DOn't even LOOK at me, I'm embarrassed. the pitt consumes my every waking thought so I'm going to make that everyone else's problem :)

this is my very first fic!!! it is a work of fiction!!!!! i do not know anything about being a doctor!!!!!! inaccuracies are none of my damn business!!!!!!!!!!

i can’t help but love the emotional constipation of jack and robby in this show, and i was feeling inspired by jack, so this is my attempt at unpacking a bit of it. reader is indeed reader, but i have formed a bit of a character in my head, so pls forgive me she does get a last name late in the piece. hope you enjoy!!!!! maybe more soon!!!!! <3

warnings: cussing, jack being pathetic, snooping based behaviours, mentions of loss of bodily function/traumatic injuries, mentions of war, mentions of covid, a spider may or not be guilty of a crime, miscommunication i fear, bad grammar from yours truely, bit o' angst

word count: 2.1k

Dr. Jack Abbot thought he was doing a very fine job not staring at you all shift long, thank you very much. It had gotten harder since you’d changed the way you’d done your hair, letting the blonde grow out. When the lights hit the top of your two fastidiously tied french braids it set the crown of your head on fire, like the sun itself sat behind you in some kind of imitation of a halo. angel indeed. You’d pierced your left ear again, yet another little golden hoop in the soft shell of cartilage at the very top. Every now and then, he would see you reach for it, as if to scratch an itch, but catch yourself before you could touch the still healing wound. The smallest, prettiest crease would form between your eyebrows, and your hand would curl into a tight fist of frustration. You were going to be the absolute death of him.

The last trauma had been difficult; damage to the neck not only making finding an airway close to impossible, but suggested a grim future for the patients ability to move as he once did. Walking was now in question. Fucking e-scooters, they were starting to offer up more victims than motorbikes. It had been an excruciating emotional dance to explain to the teenager’s recently widowed mother, that her 15 year old’s life would now be dramatically different, that she was going to have to take on a new burden. The quiet, contained grief in her eyes, not breaking contact with his, was just about all he could take for this shift.

It was easy then, to justify a little bit of gratuitous selfishness in front of the board; the easiest place to catch a glimpse of you. This shift you’d remained calm and switched on, as you always were, but something was clearly scratching at your mind. Standing dutifully behind Jack as he spoke to the mother, gently answering her questions, offering sincere condolences, introducing her to Kiara had all been done with perfect form. but when it was done, you had all but fled back to the nurses’ station, logging onto one of the computers at break neck speed.

This is where you now sat, chin resting on your linked fingers, eyes in a predatory narrow. Without meaning to, without really realising it was happening, Jack let himself drift slowly around the desk. On his journey closer to you he let his hands fall into nonchalant, non-suspicious motion. Adjusting the cord of the landline, running his finger over some forms to see if they needed his signature, flicking on a tablet to consider the chart on it. He didn’t really have the time to think too hard about it, but some small voice in the back of his head told him he looked like a fucking idiot. Jesus Christ, he’d committed now.

To get a decent angle of your screen he would have to step back a little from the desk, making it pretty damn obvious he was snooping. If it was only a glance, just a few seconds, he should be in the clear. Mindful not to get to close (you seemed to have eyes in the back of your head when it came to him, probably since he was your attending), he took one last scan of the room to check no one was clocking every last shuffle he was taking.

Pursing his lips with arms crossed tightly across his chest, he stepped back swiftly, eyes flicking down your screen. The majority of it was taken up by a word document, your name is bold letters across the top. Underneath was a jumble of dot points, places and years and accolades and societies—a resume?

A resume…your resume. You were leaving?

His heart went somersaulting into his stomach, bouncing off his ribs on the way down.

When had you decided this? Where were you going? When were you going to tell him?

Jack felt anger and grief and confusion and jealousy all at once in his veins like some kind of poisonous cocktail. What was he, some kind of teenager? What had he ever done to deserve an explanation from you? You, who was so wonderful and so clever and so funny and so so beautiful. You who had only ever weathered his grumpiness and sour expressions and poorly timed criticism with grace and patience. You who’d never figured out how to be a pessimist, who never let the bad days win. The thought of your absence was more painful than he could have ever expected — it scared him goddamn shitless.

“Dr Abbot?”

Dr Ellis had materialised out of nothing on the other side of the desk, one eyebrow cocked. Jack nearly tripped over his own feet to get away from you and the scalding sensation of shame burning across his face, “Ya?”

“Uh, can I get your eyes on a case in South 15? We’ve got a 10 year old, lethargic, sweaty, confused. Her parents are insistent she hasn’t ingested anything.”

Your head snapped up, finally divorced from whatever hypnotic pull the resume had on you.

“Does she have control over her extremities, fingers?”

Ellis frowned, “She was moving them a lot, almost obsessively. I figured if might just be a reaction to the confusion and being in a strange place.”

You stood in one fluid motion, hands quick to grab a pair of gloves, feet quick to dance around the station to get to Ellis’ side.

“Mind if I join? I think we need to look for a spider bite. Funnel-weavers are usually—”

And with that the pair of you were gone, walking shoulder to shoulder into the fray like soldiers in arms, conversing in low, practised tones. Ready to tackle whatever the inside of that room held; the scariness of having to diagnose quickly, the stress of terrified parents breathing down your neck. It didn’t matter how bitter-of-heart Jack had become after all the years of carnage, there was still a part of him that sang at the sight of a well-oiled team. It was selfish, he considered, to believe your leaving would effect just him. Every last doctor, nurse, support worker, radiologist, technician, transport aide, frequent flyer and desk clerk would mourn your loss. Perhaps the endearing Mel King most of all. She had taken to your cheerful demeanour and calm teaching style like someone drowning does to oxygen. In the time Langdon had been a voluntary inpatient, you had been a much needed rock in the stormy wake of that revelation. Another loss could send her off kilter again, and the ER needed her…badly.

So where exactly were you planning to run off to? Surely you wouldn’t go overseas again, not after what had brought you home the last time...

Morality was telling him to just walk away, to busy himself in some problem that likely was currently yearning for his help.

They hadn’t reached out had they? Could they convince you to go back?

He wished Bridget would just call for him, that Shen would bustle in with all his careful questions. But wishing would not make it so. And he had fought so long, all his life. The older he became, the easier it was to just surrender. To drift. The computer was about to fall asleep, locking it to the world. One swift movement of the mouse sealed his fate. He was a shameless snoop, a betrayer of privacy - your privacy.

It couldn’t be denied, the resume was impressive. Very, very impressive. How many graduating honours could one 30 something year old have? And the places you’d been, you’d practised - how many names could you possibly stack next to each other? Some of them he hadn’t even seen with his eyes, even after all the time in the camouflage pants that chaffed like you wouldn’t believe. You’d seen the very worst Covid had served up in Mexico City and Rio, you had been at the very front in Ukraine, in Afghanistan, traipsed all the way across North Africa and South America and just about every island in Indonesia. Pittsburgh, even with its fair share of tragedy, felt so foreign on the page next to all the adventure and danger. It would be easy to think that you had simply become bored, and wished once again to go somewhere that you could stem the flow of blood. Jack thought the blue beret would match the new blonde hair quite nicely.

“Dr Abbot?”

He froze. That voice. How long had he been staring at the carefully typed words, wishing they would reveal an answer?

There was no way, no way at all that he could gracefully and silently retreat from this one. He was elbow deep in the cookie jar, no better than a child, spited at not being told the grown up’s secret. He looked behind himself with humiliating slowness, feeling infinitely small and ashamed. The small crease between your brows had deepened into a valley he could not dig himself out of.

“Dr James.” He said, his voice sounding all together too loud and too far away, “If you are walking away from a computer in any circumstance other than a complete emergency, you must log off, there is confidential information of patients that must be protected from wandering eyes.”

“Wandering eyes?” You let a laugh escape, entirely hollow.

And then, with more steel then he had ever heard, “Can I speak with you privately for a minute?”

“Fine.” He said, straightening with an angry click from his back. Too old for all this high school shit. You made a point to lean past him, and log off with a few aggressively passive aggressive snaps of the keys.

He trailed behind your long, mechanical strides, deeply unsettled by the stiff set of your shoulders. Maybe you’d developed the ability to be negative in the time to took to stomp from the nurses’ station to the family room door, which you promptly shoulder charged open. Once it was safely closed behind both doctors, you whirled on him.

“What the hell were you doing looking at that?”

“Like I said, you need to log off—”

“Bullshit, Jack!” You looked wild, eyes impossibly wide, “There was no reason for your face to be 2 inches from the screen to log me out. Or have your eyes completely given out since the start of shift?”

If there was no way to dodge the bullet, he may as well try swallowing it, “What exactly do you plan on doing with that document? You gonna flee the country again? Run from all us sorry fucks here in the Pitt?”

You recoiled, like the venom in his words had actually struck your skin. Jack watched them sink in, the sizzle of their marks.

You shook your head once, looking down at your sneakers, the 10-year-too-old linoleum floors.

“I can’t believe you. I cannot believe you.” The words were pulled straight from your chest at the end of meat hooks.

Jack opened his mouth to strike again, but your gaze shot upwards and locked onto his. The attacks died on his tongue.

“All I have done since I set foot in here was try and get close to you Jack Abbot. I have offered you my full attention, my utter respect and confidence and trust, all my effort, all my energy, everything I have.” You took an incredulous step backwards, unsteadied by your own words and the weight of them now sitting between you, “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, I would ride right on back into all the shit and misery all over again if that is what you asked of me.”

Something that looked frighteningly like a tear slipped down your cheek and off your chin.

“And what do you offer in return? You push and push and push me away.” The words wobbled now, exhausted from the revelation.

“What right do you have,” You gasped, “to now act betrayed about this? To declare you’ve always cared? Like its me that’s hurting you?!”

Killshot.

Jack’s mouth pressed into a hard line, a terrible burning spreading through the back of his eyes, a horrible pressure on his chest. All that time he had been pretending not to look at you, you had been staring straight through him into his very soul. Seeing every ugly inch of his insides. He wanted to run, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness at your feet.

Bridget rapped sharply on the door of the window, her face grave, “Car pileup on the highway, multiple traumas, 4 minutes out.”

By the time he turned back to you, your face had been schooled back into cool neutrality, a deep breath filling your lungs. Before Jack could reach out and touch you, you were gone, like you were never even there.

~~~~~

um, so yeah I guess? more soon! x

| next

[nochepsicodelica]

It's two in the morning and you're knocking on your own front door after a night out with your friends. Your mind has been occupied by static, not allowing you to remember that you have a key to let yourself in, so you stand there alone, waiting to be let in. You plant your hand on the wall to keep yourself balanced, looking left and right to see if anybody or any car is looking at you as they pass by.

Just as you're about to knock, again, the door opens and you flinch, your other hand flying to the wall to remain steady on your feet. You look up at your man with warped vision, blinking a little to try and clear your view of him. You can't contain your laughter when you see the stern look on Toji's face, his green eyes laced with concern you can't process in this state.

"What the fuck..." Toji mutters, to himself. What kind of friends would just drop you off without making sure that you get inside your house, safely? It's late. Who knows how long you had been standing there before you knocked. Anyone could have snatched you away.

Toji will catch you. You know he'll catch you if you just lean forward into him, like a backwards trust fall, so you set the plan in motion. You drag your feet and move your hands along the wall until you're in the safe zone, and then you just fall forward.

"Woah, hey." He's quick to hold you up against him, to prevent you from sliding down his body and to the floor. "Hey, you good? Talk to me. Can you walk?" Toji doesn't receive much of a response from you. Just quiet little giggles and incoherent mumbles. He sighs and picks you up, draping you over his shoulder. The door is shut and locked, before he makes his way to the bedroom. The light is already on, because he was awake the entire time, awaiting your arrival. Toji sets you down on the bed and briefly sits on the edge, by your feet.

"You didn't answer my calls, and I texted you like twenty times." He lifts your feet and takes their place, before setting them down on his lap so that you are comfortable. His fingers make haste of undoing the buckles on your high heels and he sets the shoes down, placing them under the bed.

You simply hum in response, not entirely sure of how you got to the room. The light is so bright and it's irritating your eyes, making it hard for you to hold them open.

"Told you to let me know if you needed me to pick you up, dummy." Toji wraps his hands around one of your ankles, his fingers kneading with little pressure, incase the area is tender.

"N-Nooo, i'm... here. Here," you babble.

It's so frustrating to be unable to get a full explanation out of you, right now. Your responses are borderline illogical and it's not doing Toji any good. He feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He can't calm down, after he spent the last few hours wondering why you stopped responding to him and why you weren't answering his calls. To open the door and instantly get a whiff of your night out was enraging, not because you got extremely intoxicated, but because there was no one looking out for you by the end of your time out.

Toji understands that there is no point in digging into this, now. You can't even walk or see straight, so he settles for making simple conversation that you can easily digest.

"Did your phone die or something?"

You shake your head, side to side, and his blood boils all over again. This was supposed to be an easy conversation, but he was just so damn worried. His entire body is tense with concern.

"Fuck." He sighs, nodding slightly at your response. "Yeah, okay."

A few seconds of silence go by and Toji thinks you may have fallen asleep, but then you speak up, out of nowhere, again.

"Took lots of pictures..." you mumble, eyes closed as you dig into your pocket for your phone. Once it's in your hand, you toss it on the bed for Toji to grab. He puts your massage on hold and picks up your phone, unlocking it and going to your photo gallery, where immediately, he sees previews of the pictures of you and those so called "friends" who abandoned you on your doorstep. The only reason he cares for those group photos is because you're smiling widely, seemingly laughing, and overall looking extremely happy in every one of them, but as much as he loves the look on your face in those, he loves the pictures you took of yourself and the ones your friends took of you, more. Some you had already sent to him, others he hadn't seen until then, so he sent those pictures to himself.

Toji turns your phone off and sets it aside, before grabbing ahold of your other ankle and repeating the same treatment that he did for the first one.

"There was... ugh..." you sweep away some strands of hair that almost went into your mouth. "A man. I dropped my phone and he- and he got too close behind me when I bent down to pick it up." You nod, with your eyes as wide as they can be in this state, like you're trying to prove that you aren't lying by looking him straight in his eyes.

"That's fucking disgusting, mama." Toji's eyebrows furrow, discomfort written all over his face with this new information you revealed. He squeezes your ankle a little tighter, his mind beginning to cloud with thoughts of never letting you go out without him again, but before he even thinks of spilling these thoughts to you, he asks you the most important questions.

"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"

"Mm-mm, no." You shake your head as quickly as you can without getting dizzy. "Saw his legs behind my legs and I got up and gave him this look..." You furrow your brows and lid your eyes, a gaze that doesn't seem intimidating or warning enough, now, after so many drinks. Your face quickly relaxes after and you roll your eyes with a tired sigh. "Yup, that was the face I made and then I walked away," you say, your attitude more upbeat.

"Did he leave you alone?" Toji asks, hoping nothing more happened. If there is more, he'll have you describe this man to the best of your ability, and he will hunt him down until he can positively assure that he's no longer part of the world's population.

"Yeahhh, don't know where he went." You hum like you're trying to remember, as if you even have that knowledge. You walked away and didn't turn back around, something that finally concludes your brief inability to recall. "Think he got lost." You giggle.

"Good. I'm glad," Toji says. You hum in agreement, and your eyes fall shut, gracing you with two seconds of sleep before your head nods and you wake up, again. Your bashful smile evolves into a short laugh, one that has Toji smiling at how precious you are. "You tired, mama?"

You nod and blink slowly in response, fighting the urge to shut your eyes for longer. Your lips curl into a lazy smile, when Toji presses a kiss to your ankle, before he moves your feet and sets them on the bed so he can get up.

"Let's get you ready for bed, then."

[lymtw]

Wet Dreams

Thinking of Toji being pulled out of sleep because he hears you whimpering beside him in your sleep. Once he wakes up, he can't get back to resting until he figures out what's going on with you. Maybe you're having a bad dream. After all, you are clutching your pillow pretty tight...

He puts a hand on your shoulder, ready to shake you. That is until you let out a moan. There's a visible 'huh' on his face as he keeps watching you to make sure he didn't mishear. His heart drops to his stomach when you sigh, your hips languidly rolling against the blanket that is bundled between your legs. Now he knows for sure that he didn't mishear you.

He chuckles quietly, his hand going up to caress your face. "Doll," he whispers, gently brushing wisps of hair away from your face. You don't respond. You stopped moving, and presumably went back to sleep. The problem is, Toji's awake now. Yes, he loves you and would guard you for years while you slumber, but right now you got him all bricked up. He can't sleep like this, but also, what's more embarrassing than getting himself off when the prettiest princess is right next to him.

"Baby," he coos, scooting closer to you. He pushes the blanket out of the way so that he can put one of your legs over his hip.

"You okay, Toji?" You mumble, slowly opening your eyes.

"Course, doll, but you're dreaming pretty loudly." He grins, throwing an arm over your waist. "Wanna talk about it?"

"What are you talking about?" You groan, still sleepy.

"Did you cum?"

Your heart stops at the question, and though your body is still in its sleepy daze, Toji could feel the tension surface.

"Could hear you moaning and whimpering like someone was giving it to you good. Was it me?"

"Toji...," you whine. "Who else would it be? Can we go back to sleep, now?"

"Hold on. Just wanna know if you finished. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging." His hands snake under your shirt.

"I did...n't. But i'm more tired than horny, Toji. Don't worry about it."

"You won't have to do a thing. All you have to do... is lay there... and look pretty for me." His lips ghost yours as his fingers snap the strap of your bra against your skin. "How's that sound, hm? Want me to ease you back into sleep?"

You can see the trace of a grin on his face. His eyes look so dark, and this rattles something deep in your core.

"Fine. Just... not too rough, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, trying to hold back the full wolfy grin on his face. He makes haste of taking his clothes off and when he sees you trying to do the same, he takes over and pulls your shorts and underwear off. He's above you in an instant, wedging his hips between your legs, allowing his tip to nudge through your slick folds. "Dream me really did a number on you, huh? You're so wet."

"He was a freak." You giggle, watching Toji adjust himself.

"Not freakier than me, right?" He asks, kissing up your stomach until he reaches your chest.

"He's definitely competition for you, but you're number one, baby."

Toji gives you a deadpan expression, luring a laugh from you. "So damn lucky you asked me to go easy on you." He looks at that tired smile on your face, instantly remembering his mission. "Gonna put it in, 'kay ma?"

"Okay," you murmur, reaching your hands up to caress his face.

You both go quiet for a second as he brings his cock towards your entrance. Even the gentlest of Toji's movements are hard to take sometimes, but you've always been praised by him for handling those movements so well every time. You try to mute the gasp that comes with Toji stretching you, but your discomfort is not something you can easily hide from him.

"S'all good, princess," he mumbles into your neck. He can feel you trembling as he pushes in further. "Always so good for me. You can take it, huh?"

You squeak out a little 'fuck' and are instantly soothed by Toji. "I know, I know, my pretty girl. Don't cry." He looks into your twinkling eyes and kisses away the crystals gliding down your face. You're somewhat distracted by the affectionate butterfly kisses Toji scatters on your face. He uses this as a chance to sheathe the rest of himself inside you. Another inch stuffed into you, another kiss to your lips. He can see the light way your nose scrunches, instantly catching you with a coo of "that's it, mama. That's all of it."

You shudder, sighing as you push your head back into the pillow. "Fuck. Your dick is cursed, baby."

"You love it, anyway, little masochist." He smirks.

"What's a good fuck without some pain?" You can see the way his face lights up, almost like he considered that a green light to fuck you like an animal. "Ah, no," you intervene so quickly. "You're easing me back to sleep."

"Right." He stifles a laugh. "Let's get on that then."

It doesn't usually go this way with Toji. He likes to show off his strength against you, be it breaking your back when you arch over the crushing orgasms he gives you or holding you down when you try to squirm away from his overstimulating touch.

Somehow you got him to slow down for you this time, and the prize is you getting to mumble sweet nothings to him. His reward is that he gets to stay in gentle control. You tell him you love him and he responds with a little "mhm". You tell him you wouldn't go anywhere without telling him first but he doesn't read into the code in your message, so he smiles and says "you'd get lost, and I'd have to find you." You tell him you're glad you get to sleep next to him and he chuckles in your ear, responding with a non-threating "dick's got you all emotional, baby?"

You laugh it off, not taking it to heart. "Just love being close like this with you is all."

It goes quiet for a minute, only your little breaths and Toji's pants filling the silence. Toji can hear your heartbeat as he rocks both of you. Your heels dig into his lower back, your nails dragging across his shoulder blades. "Fuck, princess. I'll bust if you keep scratchin' me up like that." His lips ghost the column of your neck before latching on and working a mark into your skin. Your thighs squeeze against his waist as he grazes your sweet spot repeatedly.

Toji knows you well enough to know that that's a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum, so he makes his touch overwhelming. His hands run up your body until he reaches your chest, where he teases your nipples until your stomach starts quivering and you start breathing shakily. He massages your hips with his thumbs, while pressing kisses to your jaw with little murmurs of, "show me how good you feel" and "come on, baby."

"Fuck, princess..." he groans, almost reaching his own peak. "I wanna hear you. None of that covering your mouth or biting your tongue shit."

You folded so quickly after that, gasping like the air was sucked out of your lungs. "G-Go- Oh god! Fuck, Toji... I-"

"Mhm... fuck yeah, baby. T-That's good, so fuckin' good," he groans, rutting into you as he spews out his load. You put your hands up to his chest, pushing weakly as the overstimulation starts kicking in. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he slows to a halt. "So good for me, mama," he mumbles into your neck, his cock still buried in your soaked cunt. "No one deserves you." He presses a few more kisses onto your shoulder before getting off of you. Your eyes shut for seconds at a time every time you blink, meaning you could knock out any moment now. Any other day, the sight of cum drooling out of your pussy would incite another round, but Toji said he would fuck you to sleep, and he kept his word. The session concluded and now he gets to clean you up while you rest.

[wispitty]

(short reacts) | "you collapse from a fever" + one piece men

summary: you're burning up with a fever, but you stubbornly try to act normal until you collapse in front of him. (part 2 here)

characters: crocodile, mihawk, marco, ace, shanks, law, corazon

CROCODILE

You're dashing into the meeting room, pale and sweating, but forcing a bright smile even amidst the heavy breathing.

“Sorry I'm late, I just—”

The world goes white. Your knees buckle.

He’s out of his chair in less than a breath. Catches you before you hit the floor. One strong arm behind your back. His hook bracing your legs.

“You’re burning up.”

You try to speak—he cuts you off.

“Not. A word.”

Carries you out like a damn emergency evacuation. Calls off the meeting with a single glare to everyone else.

Guards whisper he looked like Death itself walking down the corridors towards the infirmary—but he was holding an angel.

MIHAWK

You’re trying to leave the sparring yard, gripping the wall. Shaky.

He sees the way your steps drag. The sweat on your brow.

“You look unwell.”

“I'm fi—”

You drop.

He catches you instantly.

His arms go around you without hesitation. He pulls you to his chest.

Feels the fever.

“Fool.”

But it’s soft. Pained.

He lifts you gently. Carries you like glass. You murmur his name—he presses his forehead to yours and says:

“Never hide this from me again.”

MARCO

You’re walking toward him, waving casually, trying to ignore the way your vision is blurring.

Then your steps falter. Your legs give out.

He’s by your side before your body even touches the ground.

“Hey—hey, hey, stay with me.”

You’re flushed. Breathing fast. Hot as hell.

He lifts you up, his hand cupping the back of your head.

“You’ve been sick this whole time and didn’t say nothin’, huh?”

His smile is tight. But his voice is soft.

“You should know better. But I’ll take care of you, yoi.”

And he does. All night. All day. Doesn’t leave your bedside once.

ACE

You stumble mid-joke, mid-strained-laugh.

He thinks it’s clumsy-you being you until your knees hit the floor.

“Hey—? Wait, are you—?”

You collapse. He catches you. Barely.

He feels the heat radiating off you and panics.

“Oh shit. AW FUCK. You're not suppose to feel like ME?!”

Carries you to the infirmary like his pants are on fire. (they are)

Keeps mumbling,

“No no no you’re okay—c’mon—why didn’t you say something—”

Won’t leave your side. Pesters Marco on why aren't you feeling better every five minutes. Kisses your forehead every ten.

And whispers,

“Please don’t scare me like that again…”

SHANKS

You're mid-conversation when your eyes glass over.

He sees it before you feel it.

“Princess?”

Then you stumble.

His arms are already around you.

“Whoa—whoa, easy now.”

You blink up at him, dazed. He’s already cradling your head. Already scowling.

“You were really gonna try to charm your way through a fever, huh? And Beckman says I’m bad.”

He lifts you against his chest like a bride on her wedding day.

“Well now I’m in charge. And you’re not leaving that bed ‘til you’re back to teasing me properly.”

Hongo's got his hands full for the next two days. Not just in tending to you, but dealing with Shanks looming over like a restless shadow.

LAW

You walk into the medbay. Try to make a joke.

He doesn’t laugh. Just watches you. Quiet.

Then—

Your world goes black.

He’s there in a second. Hands under your arms. He lowers you down slow. Checks your pulse. Your temperature. His jaw locks.

“You’re fevered. When did it start?”

You try to speak.

He presses two fingers to your lips.

“Nevermind. Just shut up and let me fix you.”

You fall asleep in his arms.

He mutters to himself while hooking you up to every comfort he can find.

“Reckless… ridiculous… perfect… idiot…”

CORAZON

You laugh too hard, that was flag one. Stumble mid-step, flag two.

Then go completely limp, red alert.

He panics.

“H-Hey?!”

You’re out cold before he catches you. He cradles your head in his shaking hands.

Feels the heat. Curses.

Picks you up immediately.

Wraps you in his jacket. Hurries to the infirmary like he’s carrying sacred treasure.

Once you're safely tucked in, he sits beside you.

Won’t sleep. Won’t eat. Just holds your hand and kisses your knuckles over and over.

Writes on a note:

“Don’t do that ever again. My heart can’t take it.”

[slutzforbueckers]

I DEFINITELY NEEDDD Paige to be RECEIVING the strap and reader going hardcore making Paige not being able to walk/play properly at practice the next day 😫🙏🏻

TURNED OUT

♡— pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

♡— warnings: smut

♡— a/n: i'm trying to learn how to write blurbs yall, i can't stop writing like detailed fics💔

paige's head was pressed against the pillows and she's whining, like actually whining.

she's beyond gone—drooling on the pillows because she can't help the way her mouth falls open a little more every time you thrust back in.

"fuck, baby! slow down—" she gasped, hand flying back to push at whatever part of you she could reach.

"thought this is what you wanted, p?" you chuckled as you pushed her hand away and slapped her ass hard enough to make a red handprint bloom on her already red skin.

paige couldn't really do much other than take it—her legs were already shaking from the previous orgasms and she could feel herself closing in on the third one.

your right hand found her head, fingers gripping her blonde hair, while the left gripped her hips and pulled her back to meet your bruising thrust. you let out a soft groan as you looked down at the way her cunt swallowed your strap with no effort.

the room was filled with the sounds of her moans, skin on skin, the bed softly creaking under rough movements. you leaned down over her, pressing your chest to her back, and let your hand slide from her hips to toy with her clit.

"you gonna cum again, hm?" you muttered against her skin. paige let out a breathless noise and nodded her head, her hips pressing back on their own accord now.

she twitched at the feeling of your fingers on her clit. she couldn't form the proper words to tell you she was cumming again but you didn't need words.

it was obvious by the way her cunt was gushing around you so hard you couldn't do anything but pull out and the way her moans got so loud they were damn near screams.

you were already planning your apology basket to your neighbors.

"paige! what is your problem?" geno yelled as he blew his whistle and threw his hands up in the air. paige stopped in her tracks and let the ball fall from her hands.

this was like the 10th time he'd called her name since practice started, and that was only 30 minutes ago. she knew why she kept getting called out—she was way off her game today. missing easy shots, tripping over her own feet because she was still limping from the night before.

you didn't even offer to help her as she made her way to coach, and when she looked at you when he started yelling at her you just smirked and lined up at the 3pt line.

after he was done yelling at her, paige made her way towards you. you looked over at her with a loud laugh as she bumped you with her shoulder while she passed.

"there will be pay back." she grunted. "mark my words."

[mrs-weasley-reid]

PRETTY FACE

bau team x liaison!reader

Synopsis: As the BAU's communications liaison—with a pretty face—you're in charge of peace. But what happens when you're not feeling so peaceful? Word count: 2.2k WARNING: fluff. but also fem rage lol. a few curses. not proofread oopsie A/N: I'm still rusty, so sorry, my lovelies (; _ ;) but I tried my best I promiseeeee. I missed writing so much <3 let me know what you think!

Three years.

Three years of grueling hours. Three years of sweat and hidden tears. Three years of nonstop compensation for multiple skills you aren't born with.

You take pride in your work. You show up. You follow through.

It's no secret. No surprise. You're a beaut, and you don't feel shy. It's normal. So be damned if you curse the parents who gave you such wonderful genetics. 

But that does not make you just pretty.

If anything, it just makes your learned skills, strong will, and assertiveness much more credible. You're not just beauty, but also brains and brawn.

With that in mind, one shall have the mature intelligence to understand the itch on your palms to smack the shit out of the man right before your eyes.

"We told you that I'll be taking care of the media." You start as you follow behind the local precinct's detective. Might as well call it chasing. He's been walking around like you're a fly he's been trying to ward off.

"Like I said, Miss—" He says that to diminish you. To make you smaller. He ignores the fact. He can't grasp the idea. The truth. That you're not just a pretty face. "—The press was there. I didn't know they were going to ask questions that can make things worse." Oh, yes, he did. A liar. And a bad one, too.

That is exactly why the plan is solid. To have you right on the podium, fighting the urge to blink from the flashes. The plan is preventative. To keep the UnSub from thinking that they are winning. 

You manage to keep your eyes from rolling, subtly grinding your teeth. "And we made the plan for that certain reason. I'm used to questions that we have to avoid. I'm more skilled in—"

"Are you saying I'm incapable? That you're better than me?"

His voice rises. Loud enough to shut the entire precinct up. Loud enough to get your team's attention. To prompt judgment and, worse, to make you seem weak.

"You're twisting my words, Detective. I'm telling you what I'm trained for and why we're making use of that advantage." It's simple. It's clear. A grade school level of intelligence can understand just what you said.

But the issue remains the same.

You can't teach someone to fish if their goal is to hunt.

"Listen, doll face. I'm not going to let my city live in false hope by some chick."

If the silence isn't deafening enough, his words are. They exploded like a bomb made to leave you into fine dust.

Three years.

Three years of constant backlash to the idea that a communications liaison can do more than just pick up the phone and connect two vessels of justice into one.

That's why you chose to stay in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They give you the freedom to do your job. They aren't filled with cheap people who'll mansplain as simple as using a copier. 

Three years, and you learned a lot. You learned your role and their role. You learned how to read, observe, and listen.

So, you know just how much the team filters you from violence. You know how much the BAU team expects less from you when it comes to battling UnSubs. Or going against prideful local detectives, police officers, and more. 

You knew, but you didn't mind. Because despite that, you knew they cared for you dearly. Respected the hard work you put in. Wanted your job to be as easy as possible.

Today, however, is a different story. You're not about to let the team fight your battle. Not when it's with a guy like him. Not when you know damn well how crucial the case is. Not when you're more than some chick he tries to insist you as.

As usual, Hotch is about to step in when gasps echo throughout the room. He stopped in his tracks, bolting his feet on the tiled floor. Maybe even wide-eyed.

Swift.

One swift pull on the detective's tie and the height difference between the two of you shifts. You glower at him as if it’s a crime to be the type of person that he is. And in the back of your mind, you agree.

He's sitting on a chair now. Your left foot is between his thighs. The point of your heels sits three inches from his crotch like a gun to his sorry proof of manhood. 

And even with the stretch, you're nowhere looking lewd despite wearing a skirt. Emily thinks you look badass. Her wide grin can testify to that.

"It's Agent." You announce softly. So soft that the back of Derek's neck shivers in fear. "And if it weren't for this chick's team, another dead body would’ve made your city much, much worse."

Fire spreads inside your body. Rage seeps in. A strong rope that finally snaps. 

“Should we stop the kid?” Rossi asks lowly without batting an eye. He’s worried that if he blinks, you’ll turn into a criminal he can’t bear to catch. 

Hotch only shakes his head in response. Nonetheless, he moves one step every five seconds. Steadily approaching a lion to tame her. It’s not that he thinks you need taming. It’s the fact that he has no idea how to. You’ve never snapped before. The team is at a loss for words.

The grip you have on the detective’s tie can easily choke him then and there. But one thing you're great at is control.

Terrifying control, that is.

"So unless you cooperate, I'm not afraid to pack up and pull us off this messy case." You lightly tug him closer. You watch as a bead of sweat run down the side of his face. "And if you think you can drag our hands into the mud. You'll have your hands dirty all by yourself, because I'm damn great at keeping ours clean. Do I make myself clear, Detective?"

No one’s ever thought it’s possible to mock a worthy title such as detective, but you’re as shocked as everybody else.

How far can your beauty get you? The answer is nowhere, but he doesn’t need to know that. He's already too busy blinding himself from the fact that you're not just that. What more is tricking him into thinking it can get you farther?

A light hand lands on your shoulder. You turn to find Rossi with an unreadable expression. It's his way to pull you back to reality, to calm you down.

Hotch reaches for your hand on the detective's tie. "I think he understands," He insists. Stern but not harsh. More of a plea if you had to say so yourself.

Then, again, he’s always been confident with his words that most of them turn into law, which the entire team abides by without question.

Your hand lets go of the tie, blinking as if you’d been possessed, overwhelmed with rage. Tension dissipates from your body. The furrowed brows on your forehead finally separate.

"JJ and Morgan are going back to the dump site. Go with them."

An order.

Cool off, then we’ll talk later. That’s what Hotch meant, and you know it by heart, considering the amount of times you heard him utter the same words to the team.

It’s first for you, though. So it stings. Embarrassing, for lack of a better word. Part of you knew it was coming. It’s not you to step over a line you know you’re not allowed to cross. Still, it doesn’t change the suffocating feeling in your chest. 

You nod and turn around. Your fists clench so tight crescent indentations sting your palms. Even Rossi's gentle tap on your back didn't make you feel better.

You'd done it.

You broke their trust.

Who are you to say those things anyway? You're just a communications liaison. You have no power.

You can’t even bear to look up ahead to where the others stood. You're afraid that the indifferent looks on their faces will be the final blow.

Despite that, another feeling brews. It creeps right from the marrow of your bones. 

Disappointment. 

A feeling so familiar you can’t bear to feel it at all. Not when it comes to the team. Not when it comes to the people you find comfort with.

The detective coughs loudly as if you really did choke him to death. "You better control your liaison, Agent Hotchner. It’s not a good look to have someone rogue in the FBI." He demands. A snide comment about the team’s power. He’s been intimidated from the start, and he chose you to relieve himself of any jealousy that runs in his blood.

What a wimp, you thought. And unbeknownst to you, your team did too.

"Sorry," Your ears perk as soon as it comes out of Hotch's mouth. "I don't control the person that keeps my hands clean. If anything, I give them soap."

You're out of the door before you can even hear more, getting into the driver's seat without realizing your tight grasps on the wheel.

"Remind me never to piss you off," Derek immediately implores as he sits on the passenger seat next to you. “I’m glad I don’t wear neckties that often.”

Tears uncontrollably fill your eyes and soon enough trail down your cheeks. The adrenaline finally crashes down, and you're back to the realization of what just transpired.

You feel JJ's arms around you despite being in the backseat, "Thank you for being there for us. I know how hard it is to be in your position."

And the sobs come second. "Oh, my gosh! I almost choked a detective. What am I supposed to do? I’m just a liaison. I’m going to jail or something." You cry in almost inaudible tangents, earning a chuckle from the other two, to your dismay. “And did Hotch just make a joke about giving me soap? What does that even mean?” You think you’re going insane. Laughing and crying at the same time like a lunatic. 

“Yeah, I think he likes that one lemon scent you brought in the kitchenette,” JJ adds, rubbing your side to calm your senses down. There’s a motherly feeling in the way she tries to comfort you, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Derek grabs your hand and places a small tissue pouch. “Listen here, Agent.” He smirks proudly. “You’re not just a liaison. You’re our liaison. The behavioral analysis unit’s communications liaison. You’ve worked more than what your job description says. None of us would be here if you didn’t show up. Do you have any idea how many times the group almost fell apart when JJ left us? Left the role empty? This team needs you.” He ruffles your hair, to which you're quick to swat before grabbing a napkin.

Sobbing in front of the team is a first, too. Albeit just JJ and Derek with you, it feels like all the members somehow know you’re crying like a child, too. 

A phone ring momentarily distracts the three of you. Emily’s name flashes on JJ’s phone. She waves it with a knowing look before putting the call on speaker.

“Yes, Emily?” JJ answers as if to inform Emily that the three of you can hear her.

“[I’m gonna need pointers how to get a man in line.]” Emily starts, clearly talking to you. Though, you don't think she needs any pointers.

“Is that for self-defense or some freaky stuff?” Derek playfully interjects, grinning at the sight of the screen.

You can hear the way Emily rolls her eyes despite not seeing her at all, “[Wouldn’t you like to know, you dog.]” Laughter erupts inside the van. “[Also, I think Reid’s traumatized for life. He’s clearing out the table from all his folders, something about our liaison asking him to stop hogging the table.]” 

The tears stop, then. You shake your head while you wipe under your eyes. “I can’t believe I did something stupid. I’ll have to write a report about this.” You groan, leaning against the headrest.

"If you ask me, I have no idea what you're talking about.” Derek shrugs nonchalantly.  

JJ nods, “You're going to sound crazy if you add that to your report because none of us wants our hands dirty." She bites her lower lip to sound more serious, but it doesn’t help her at all.

“[Oh, guys, here’s Hotch.]” Emily interjects, prompting static from the other end of the line.

Hotch clears his throat, signaling everyone. “[Can you take me off speaker phone for a moment?]” He directs.

JJ passes you her phone, and you step out of the van.

You take a deep breath before attaching the device to your ear, “Hotch? I’m so so—”

“[I’m going to stop you right there, Agent.]” He cuts you off. “[Don’t ever think that defending yourself is a fault. That’s not how I run my—our team.]”

“I know, but I technically assaulted a cop. And technically threatened him.” There’s nothing technical with what happened. You did them exactly as is, and not to be braggy, but you did so with poise and assertiveness.

“[Well, that’s something we can talk about never. I just wanted to give you a formal apology for not stepping in before it even happened. You’re essential to this team. An insult to you is an insult to all of us.]”

It's as if a heavy weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You can breathe better. And the embarrassment completely melts off your skin. Better yet, the disappointment with your team downright disappeared. 

You shouldn’t have doubted them. 

You snap out of your trance when Hotch says your name, “Yeah?”

“[Where do you buy those scented soaps?]”

You bit your lower lip in hopes of keeping your tears from drowning your eyes. You really should’ve known better than to think the team would ever believe you are just a pretty face.

[lostinlovingrevery]

just think of Logan fucking u to sleep because you're tossing and turning and its pissing him off a little so he does his best to help you relax in the only way he knows how :)

Lullaby

Trilogy! Logan X F! Reader

Logan needs you to go to hell to sleep

A/N: I know technically this wasn't a request but this drove me WILD last night and I knew I had to do something about it. Also I know beast of burdens was supposed to be my next fic but I promise ya'll will be FED when i'm done with it...

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, Insomnia, unprotected PiV, fingering, kinda sleepy sex, creampie

He scowls at the ceiling

Staring up above, brows creased and lips set in an irritated frown. He felt you shuffle again at his side. The bed gently shook from your movements, your arm bumping his.

He shut his eyes hoping that would be the last of it. Not even a minute passed, and the bed shook from your stirring once more. His eyes shot open and he gritted his teeth.

A flash of light made him turn his head. Your back was turned to him, and he could see you scrolling on your phone.

"Get off your phone." He grumbles, looking back at the ceiling.

You looked over your shoulder, surprised to see him awake. Pressing the screen off, you set it aside and turning on your side to face him. "I didn't realize you were awake."

"Hard not to be...." He mutters, shutting his eyes.

"Sorry. I can't sleep." You say quietly.

"Damn phone isn't going to help. Tossing and turning nonstop isn't going to either."

Silence followed, he opened his eyes again and looked back at you. You looked exhausted, circles under your eyes, frustration painted across your face. He felt guilty for being snappy- it's not like you want to stay up all hours of the night.

"C'mere." He mumbles, stretching his arm out for you to join his side. You shuffled across the mattress, resting your hand across his chest and you tipped your chin up at him while resting your cheek on his shoulder. "What's the matter with ya?"

"I don't know. I'm just restless. I want to sleep but I can't relax." You mumble, pressing your cheek into his arm. Your fingers intertwining into his chest hair, as you began to carefully pluck at individual strands.

"Hm." He grumbles quietly, his hand brushing up and down your arm and he looked up at the ceiling. He wondered what he could do to help you. It's not easy to relax- he knew that better than anybody. If it wasn't the nightmares, it was the tension, the anxiety. Unable to sleep because he was terrified for what was going to happen the next day.

Didn't really learn how to relax till you came around. Felt safe in your arms- a little strange feeling but it was true. He tried to think about what helps him sleep- and what has helped you sleep in the past?

Nightly routines. Both of you finish up work- you're usually last to do so, the workaholic you are. Dinner- with the others, or sometimes you and him opt for something quieter. Usually shower together, he likes it that way, even if nothing sexual comes from it; he intimacy from the act- he's addicted. Once brushing teeth and hair are done, you'll both settle in. Sometimes watch a movie, or talk, or-

Bingo

Tonight had been one of the rare nights you didn't have sex. Not for any particular reason, the both of you worn from the days events so cuddling in bed was the option.

No wonder you were restless.

He felt a little cocky by this thought. A single round with him would knock you out- of course it's never just one round with him.

Within a flash, he had the sheets ripped off, and you rolled onto your back, (his) shirt lifted over your breasts, and his hand down your panties. His lips crashed onto yours, taking your breath away as your startled by his sudden actions.

"Mmlogan!" You mumbled into his lips, but you didn't push him away. No, his hand felt way too good for you to ask him to stop. Warm, comforting, you felt the ache of your restless muscles begin to relax at his touch. Maybe a heads up would be nice- but he was always more of a physical being anyway.

His calloused fingers circled your clit, varying his pacing- slowly, before speeding up. He did it the exact way he knows you like it. Your pleasure always a top priority to him- of course this time, your relaxation was the most important. Stroking his fingers through your folds and gathering your wetness over them. Your thighs spread open for him eagerly- wanting more.

He moved away from your lips, down to your neck, before capturing a tit in his mouth. He licked and sucked at your hardening bud- reveling in the moans that escaped you.

He pushed a single digit into your hole, clenching around him. Your hand climbed into his hair, another burying into the pillow your head was resting on. He worked in and out of you, stretching you open to add another finger, scissoring open inside of you, before curling to hit the spot he has memorized.

Your back arched off the bed, your hand digging into his scalp almost painfully- making him groan as he quickly worked you into a blissful- and tiring release.

Your walls clenched around him, even as he removed his fingers. A small chuckle escaping him as he watched your body relax into the mattress as he sits up.

"Mmm..." You hum contently, your hands coming up to grip your pillow lazily. "That was nice....and I'm tired now so it works...."

"Not done yet." He says, shuffling across the bed- he turned you on your side. He used one hand to support your leg up- exposing your soaked panties. His other hand pulled down his briefs, taking his hard cock in hand as he led himself to your entrance- removing the pesky panties to the side as he pushed his tip against your entrance.

You squirmed, eyes shut tight and holding onto your pillow- preparing for the inevitable fuck Logan was going to bestow onto you.

He pushed himself inside- his fingers hadn't been nearly enough to prepare you for the intrusion, your eyes rolled back anyway as you melted into the bed. The previous jitters your had immediately fading- as your muscles relaxed. As best as they could, anyway.

Once hilted deep inside you, both of his hands gripped your leg and he began thrusting at a pace that had your head lolling about, and you babbled, moaned, and whined.

Logan didn't pay you no mind- he was already tired himself but the tightness of your cunt- they way you squeezed around him, and how you took him so well; as you always do. He got lost in you, hugging your leg to his body, he pounded into you at a inhuman pace.

You hoped the bed frame pounding against the drywall didn't wake anyone up.

Your second orgasm was fast approaching. A winding feeling in your lower belly grew, tightening with each thrust of his cock inside you. You lazily opened your eyes to look up at him- Handsome man in all his glory, fucking you with a haze in his eyes and his mouth hanging open. Grunts and whines escaped him, but when he finally moaned your name is what sent you over the edge.

He plunged deep into you one last time, filling you with ropes of his cum. Turning his head to press kisses to your ankle while moans escaped him. One last rope shot out of him, his body twitching from the finality of his coitus, he pulled out- collapsing at your side with more exhaustion- and relief in his bones- yet half tempted to go at least one more round.

He turned to look at you to suggest the idea - but you were conked out. He smirked to himself, fixing shirt and undies and grabbing the blankets to pull over the both of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Good night sweetheart."