#head scratch . i've never done this before | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aeyumicore · 6 months ago

Text

wasteland

decades after the destruction of judgement day, you return to the abyss meadow—now an empty wasteland. a painful walk down memory lane has you remembering all the sinful things sylus did to you on the day he’d brought you to the blooming field of blood-red datura.

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: dragon!sylus x female reader (afab)

━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings/angst, angst with slight/no comfort (depends how you want to look at it), fluff, continuation of myths

━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 15.9k

━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, dragon!sylus, two dicks!sylus, dom!sylus, monsterfucking, HEAVY SPOILERS and references to sylus’s lore/myths (beyond cloudfall), themes of depression/trauma/loss of a loved one, marking (scratching and biting) and possessive behavior, implied virginity loss (both mc and sylus), slight BARELY coercion (trust me mc is more than willing), p in v, fingering with claws, eating out, face riding, horns as handlebars, belly bulge, belly swelling from cum, double penetration (in v), slight bondage with sylus’s tail, no protection, breeding kink, talks of mating and pregnancy, multiple orgasms, somewhat angst no comfort (depends how you look at it), has some comfort, some fluff, lots and lots of smut, knotting, fucking with knot, lots of overstimulation, boobie play, lots of making out, lots of biting, use of Y/N, use of petnames (sweetheart, little dragon, dove, sparrow, love, sorceress), slight references to ‘please & thank you’ fic (easter egg dialogue hehe), will add more warnings as needed

━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: wasteland song - has arcane spoilers (please listen to before reading) | wasteland song - no arcane spoilers | beyond cloudfall myths | ao3

━ ✧.˖ A/N: helloooooo she is finally here jfc. first and foremost PLEASE listen to the song linked above before reading as it was a HEAVY inspiration for the angst portion of the fic, as well as parts of the fluff. of course it’ll still make sense without watching and listening but i think it’s much more impactful with, otherwise the lyrics are whatever haha.

the song is wasteland - royal & the serpent from the netflix series arcane by riot games! highly recommend watching if you haven’t :)

secondly, this fic contains HEAVY HEAVY spoilers and references to ‘beyond cloudfall’ - sylus’s second myth set, which i’ve also linked above. if you haven’t done those and care about spoilers, i would not recommend reading this. also it won’t make as much sense if you don’t know what happened in those myths, but the smut still makes sense re: sylus is a dragon.

please enjoy <3 i will admit this was really difficult for me to finish, i don’t know what it was, i lost steam half way through and really had to force myself. i am not 100% happy with the way it turned out, but i also did really enjoy writing it! i think i cried multiple times writing this lmao

will likely be on a writing hiatus. if i do write it will be for caleb :D until next time friends. i love you <3

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

♫ I've held on for as long as I can, For the ones that I had to defend, I've been strong every day of my life, If she wants, death could take me this time. ♪

♪ This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow, I used to have strength, but I ran out of hope, I know it's my fault that I'm here all alone, This world is a wasteland, Please let me go, go, go, go, go, go, go. ♫

♫ If I could just lay my head down and rest, If there was nothing to fight or protect, Maybe then I could finally be free, Maybe death is like falling asleep. ♪

Hollow requiems echo in the recesses of your numbed soul, overtaken by the howling of the violent wind. Your heels crunch against barren ground, covered in fragments of basalt and granite, a speckled sea of death.

It was hard to imagine that this very valley was once covered in countless blossoming blood-red datura, peppered across the vast green fields of the meadow. Like the twinkling stars in the open night sky you’d spent many hours staring up at, atop the cliff top lair you briefly called home, years ago.

The memory of the blooming flowers, nestled against the stark contrast of those powerful ebony horns, the faint notes of requiems once sung under the gleaming moonlight, taunt you as they resonate in your aching mind. Your tail flickers, soul clenching in distaste.

Or perhaps it was your fragmented, barely-beating, heart. It was hard to tell these days.

You draw a shaky breath, willing your body to continue forward. It’d been decades since you’d last come here. After the events of the last Doomsday, events that you were all too familiar with, Philos had fallen to chaos and ruin. Tarus City was no exception.

And of course, the meadow had not been spared.

Guilt gnaws at you, clawing deeper than any beast ever could. The meadow–the resting place of your beloved. Your dragon.

Sylus.

Of course, it looked a little different now. Nothing like the day he’d pressed his lips to your forehead for the last time, his soul returning to the clouds above.

You stare out into the rolling hills of charred forests, the arid rivers snaking through the canyon like a dragon’s spine. Flecks of ember from the destruction of Doomsday still flit against the winds around you like dancing midnight petals. But there’s no flowers in sight. Not a single one.

The endless crimson mountain range stretches around you like an aegis, almost as if trying to protect the innocence that was once kept hidden here. A lifetime ago.

What a joke.

Everything you had ever held dear, ripped from your hands. Flaunted before you, reminding you of how helpless you’d been to fate’s cruel whims.

♪ This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow. ♫

“What I desire is to live freely and die without regrets.” You’d said that, once upon a time.

Did you?

If you died tomorrow, could you say you had no regrets?

Your fists clench at your sides, your claws digging into your palms, sure to break skin and draw blood. You knew the answer to that.

You’d devoted your life to filling countless troves with what treasures remained on the empty husk of Philos and enacting revenge on the members of the Sanctuary and Legion that’d survived Doomsday. Revenge and plunder, just like old times.

The day those horns had dawned from your head, your tail descending from your spine, you’d become one with Sylus. He gave you power; he gave you freedom.

So why now, when you’d accomplished everything you’d always wanted, did your life feel anything but free?

Everything you thought you’d wanted.

So what did you want now?

“You know, Tarus City can have flowers that bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the sound of his voice in your mind is as clear as the first time you’d heard it in the obsidian chapel. The same moonlit chapel in which you’d promised your souls to one another.

Lead weighs on your chest as you gaze out at the desolate fields, once a spiritual sanctuary for Sylus and you. Could it ever return to the way it was? Could flowers really bloom here again?

You’d give anything to see just one of those ruby moonflowers again, petals the same shade of scarlet as the eyes you’d dreamt of, time and again.

But like those beautiful eyes, you knew deep down. You’d never see those daturas again.

♫ I used to have strеngth, but I ran out of hope. ♪

You resolve yourself to go numb, as you had countless nights before, when dreams alluded you and nightmares sought you. Your body moves mindlessly on its own, your eyes glazed as you watch the cloudless sky above.

Would Sylus be disappointed if he saw you now? An empty shell of the sorceress that’d unsealed him from the Abyss and freed him in more ways than one.

Once upon a time, you could put on a brave mask in the face of losing your dragon.

But over time, the memory of his body, heavy and whole, fading in your arms, the petals of his soul slipping through your trembling fingers, etched itself into your soul. No matter how hard you tried to forget, you’d always remember. And because of that, your courage quickly turned into a searing rage that consumed every fiber of your being.

What would he think?

Well, you’ll never know will you? The voice in your head taunts, unmistakably yours, yet foreign and faraway.

Since you’re the one who plunged that sword into his heart.

♪ I know it’s my fault that I’m here all alone. ♫

Eventually, you find yourself atop a small clearing overlooking the entire valley. An eerie sense of familiarity grapples at you as you stare out into the horizon, feeling nearly as empty as the land before you.

You’re not sure when it started to happen. The days started to feel longer. You could no longer hear the melody in songs, see the beauty in patterns, taste the flavors in fruits you once loved.

All things unnecessary to a dragon’s survival.

Were you surviving? Your heart was beating, blood coursed through your veins, air traveled through your lungs, and yet…

You didn’t feel alive.

♫ This world is a wasteland. ♪

The wind howls on, the swirling ash making your eyes prickle. You turn on your heel to leave. There’s nothing left for you here. Nothing but fragments of the life you could’ve had, with Sylus.

But as the sun melts into the sky, descending into the crimson expanse of mountains, your soul is hit with memories so clear you double over, clutching your shoulder as it throbs.

��Only you and this flower…can touch me here.”

You stifle a sob, your other hand coming up to cover your mouth as you stare out into the bittersweet dusk. The way the waning light descends the scarlet contours, perfectly framing the once picturesque grove. And then it hits you, all at once like a wave crashing against you, pulling you under, until you can’t breathe.

This is the exact spot Sylus had taken you to the first time he’d brought you to the Abyss Meadow. After the night you’d promised your souls to one another.

The exact spot he’d let you weave those same delicate daturas into his horns, grimacing adorably the entire time as you did so. Where you rolled around the meadow grasses in his willful arms, revenge and the Sanctuary a long forgotten thought, just you and your dragon.

The spot he’d kissed you for the very first time. The first of what you’d thought would be a lifetime of kisses shared with him.

Where you’d shared yourselves wholly, bodies and soul, every touch a promise, every kiss a vow.

The mark on your shoulder burns, your vision hazing with tears that you’re not sure you can blame on the ash anymore. Clenching your eyes shut, you blink them away, trying to steel your resolve and push the memories back down, where you’d kept them hidden for decades.

♪ I'm not ready to face it. ♫

But they rattle violently in the cage you’d built for them, your spirit is unrelenting. Or perhaps, it’s the remnants of his own soul etched into yours that refuse to let you fade completely into the darkness.

♫ Don't go saying goodbye. ♪

Eventually the branding waves of agony that radiated from the bite thrum to a pulsing halt, replaced with a heat that was all too familiar. You finally crack open your teary eyes, your vision filled with the breathtaking canvas of sunset.

The colors cast the withered meadow in the same breathtaking glow from that day.

♫ There's a beauty in changes, and I wanna try. ♪

–

Red.

Growing up in the Ivory City, you were surrounded by nothing but the blinding incandescence of white marble that was said to symbolize purity and prosperity. On the other hand, the children of the Sanctuary had been conditioned to associate the color red with Doomsday, the Fiend, and death.

But as the flecks of vermillion heat sparkled in Sylus’s eyes, his sultry gaze flickering to your lips, you knew you’d never known a color so beautiful.

“But only for one person,” he murmurs, claws gently gripping your neck, his other hand stroking the datura he’d placed behind your ear. Sylus takes a second to admire the delicate flower, imagining Tarus City covered in them. And you, among them, serenading those familiar requiems for him.

His hooded eyes meet yours again, and a low growl elicits from his chest as his body is overcome with a burning need to claim you. His beloved.

“Sylus…” you plead breathily, squirming under his gaze and shifting atop him, still straddling him in the field of blooming red moonflowers. Sylus hisses, his slackened jaw twitching and his claws digging into your chin, bringing you closer.

“You had better watch yourself, my little sorceress,” Sylus purrs dangerously, fighting to maintain control, “I should warn you–”

Your heart hammers, pounding audibly in your ears, as Sylus pulls you the rest of the distance in. His bottom lip grazes against yours as his eyes flutter shut, his breath hot and sweet, “I don’t have the patience to wait any longer.”

He wastes no time before furiously crashing his lips to yours, claiming what was his. His claws are deliciously possessive as they trace your racing pulse, savoring the way your body trembles under his touch.

You moan into his open lips when his fingers softly wrap around your neck, the tips of his ebony talons tracing soft patterns into your skin. He smirks against your lips, taking the opportunity to push his hot tongue against yours, tasting every inch of you.

The world around you fades away, your senses filled with only him. You can vaguely feel his tail wrapping around your thigh, the tip stroking the bare skin of your calf as you tightly clutch his hips.

The raw passion of his tongue against yours makes it feel as if he’s nearly breathing fire into your soul, his body growing more demanding as he feels your heat pulse against the growing bulge in his pants. The intoxicating smell of your arousal nearly sends him into a frenzy, and it takes everything within him to not throw you under him right then and there.

When you finally pull away to breathe, you’re a panting blushing mess. Sylus on the other hand only smirks up at you, his frustratingly beautiful face lightly dusted in a peachy sheen. Overcome with the urge to wipe the smug look off his face, you brush your thumb across his kiss-bitten bottom lip, forcefully resituating yourself on his lap. You bite back your grin when he hisses, his claws digging into the fat of your hips.

“What did you mean, when you said ‘you couldn’t wait any longer’?” you tease, fueled with confidence as you watch his vermillion eyes darken, the muscles of his abdomen tensing as your hands trace their way down his body. When your fingers graze the blood-red gem embedded in his chest, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist, his grip firm yet tender.

He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing your palm into his lips, “Do you really need me to say it?”

You bat your eyelashes innocently at him, pouting, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Sylus’s chest rumbles as he chuckles, his eyes gleaming mischievously. His eyes never leave yours, the heated desire in them making the arousal between your legs increase, as he kisses your fingertips one by one.

“Dragons are solitary,” he says, kissing the pad of each finger. His tail uncoils from your thigh, only to loosely wrap around your waist, reminding you of how the mountain cat would twist its tail around your ankle.

“We grow up together, in packs,” his words are melancholic, as if remembering a painful memory, but when his ruby eyes return to yours they shine as bright as the waning sun above you, “But when we reach adulthood, we tend to go off on our own.”

You pondered his words, waiting for him to go on and doing your best to swallow the lump of emotions that’d formed in your throat at the thought of Sylus, alone for centuries. He nips at your fingers, his tongue coming out to lick tenderly at your skin.

The swirling heat in his crimson orbs are shadowed under his thick eyebrows, the very eye you’d been so drawn to boring into your newly intertwined souls.

“Can you recall what that human said that day at the market? The merchant?”

You nod curiously, biting back the shiver as Sylus continues to lick at your skin, daring further and letting his canines graze you, “Yes. That the Fiend would meet his destined archnemesis once more.”

His hands abandon yours, settling instead around your waist. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he beckons you down towards him, the corners of his lips quirking upward as he watches you squirm, a faint gasp escaping your parted mouth when his claws inch their way up your exposed back.

“Archnemesis…” he scoffs cryptically, pushing your body down against his chest, wrapping his thick arms around your smaller body, “Such a foolish human concept.”

Sylus shifts so that you’re lying completely on top of him, his tail securing you against his heavy abdomen, the unmistakable outline of something large and terrifying pressed against your core.

“Fate binds souls together–it’s written in the cosmos far above the clouds before the existence of time. Two souls that are a reflection of each other, in enmity and devotion. It’s much more than a mere destined archnemesis. This is the way of the world.”

The weight of his words begins to dawn on you, the meaning of them pressing heavily on your thundering heart. Sylus presses his lips to the mark he’d left on your shoulder in what felt like a lifetime ago.

“Ngh–!” you cry, Sylus’s teeth sinking into you. He bites down, tail constricting around you, wanting to hold you closer–tighter. You squirm against him, fingers pulling at his silver tresses, nearly seeing white as the pleasure and pain simultaneously shoots out from the crook of your neck, ebbing into every nerve of your body.

You can feel Sylus’s smug smile against your throbbing skin, his own hips coming up to grind torturously against you. He’d grown painfully hard, his cock unbearably hard in the restraints of his pants, fighting its way to get to you.

“Dragons live in solitude for the remainder of their lives,” he continues, his lips suddenly at your ear as you’re panting into his hard chest, trying to control your pathetic moans, “But some are fortunate enough to find–what you humans might call–their soulmates.”

Sylus grabs your jaw, forcing you to focus your hazy eyes on his. Though his grip is bruising, his thumb strokes soothing circles into your skin.

“A dragon mates for eternity, in this life and the next. There is only one–if even that.”

“Archnemesis, soulmate, mate. Call it what you will,” he whispers huskily, the desire in his voice palpable as he brings your chin in, his eyes darkening with a mix of lust and adoration. Your chest flutters as you take in the implication of Sylus’s words. The puzzle pieces of your fractured life began to fall into place–the Sanctuary, the weapon inside you, the golden lamp you’d treasured. Everything.

“I have known your soul was destined for mine, long before you pulled that Gods-forsaken sword out of my chest,” Sylus growls, nearly feral as the last of his patience snaps. You dissolve into a fit of squeals as Sylus effortlessly flips you under him, his hands cupping the back of your head and your lower back protectively as your body hits the plush meadow grass.

“And I can’t wait a moment longer.”

He wastes absolutely no time in bringing your lips to his once more, swallowing your moans and replacing them with his own heated breath. Your hands claw at any part of Sylus they can reach, nails leaving behind a red trail of passion that makes him groan with excitement.

Possessed with the need for more, you wrap your thighs around his waist, using your legs to cage him against you. Sylus’s grip in your hair tightens as he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your feverishly panting lips. His other hand comes down to clutch your thigh, his fingers crawling under your dress.

“Y/N. Do you know what you’re doing?” he pants, chest heaving, pupils blown with a lust so dangerous that your instincts are screaming at you to run. You bring your hands up to cup his face, mustering up all your courage.

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering as you trail your fingers down his chest, resting them right above his belt and letting your fingernails delicately stroke the hair that leads to his pelvis.

A primal snarl erupts from Sylus’s chest at your blatant teasing, and in the blink of an eye you find your wrists bound above your head, his thick tail wrapped around them like a rope, his knee forcing your thighs apart.

“Just so you know, my love,” he leans in, face inches from yours, his arrogant smile hauntingly beautiful and terrifying all at once. He dips into the crook of your neck, heated breath washing over your mark, “Dragons are not known to show mercy.”

“I can handle it, Sylus,” you retort defiantly, though your trembling voice almost betrays you. Sylus only chuckles, his eyes glinting wildly at you, swirling with the darkness of all the things he wants to do to you.

“That’s my girl.”

You’re unable to speak further, crying out when Sylus’s fingers, that’d found their way under the skirt of your dress, demandingly cup your leaking sex, his lips latching onto the burning mark on your shoulder once more.

His tongue on your neck alone is enough to have you writhing under him, begging and pleading for more. The pleasure is so overwhelmingly blinding that your eyes are squeezed shut, body convulsing involuntarily to even his gentlest touches. You’d surmise that it must’ve had something to do with what he’d said about your fate bonded souls, that made your body react so violently to his.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t let you ponder it further, his finger dipping in between your dripping core to snap your attention back to him.

“Are you still with me, sweetheart?” he coos, brushing his middle finger up and down your weeping slit, careful to only brush against you with his calloused skin, keeping his claws tucked away. You glare up at him, weakly slapping his forearm that was wedged between your shaking thighs. You open your mouth to snark at him, but Sylus uses that moment to stroke your clit with the pointed edge of his talon.

“Sylus!” you cry, halfway between a moan and a scream, “Ahhngh–p-please!”

“Mmm? What’s that?” Sylus murmurs, twitching his fingers to ever-so-slightly caress your aching clit with his claws. “Begging for more already?”

Your back lifts off the ground, the feeling of his fingers on your cunt so sharp and dizzying that your mind is caught between wanting to squirm away but needing to chase more. But it seems your body knows exactly what it wants, arching further into his hand, forcing his fingers further into you.

Your hands come up to grasp the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair and gently stroking the base of his jagged ebony horns. Sylus freezes, his jaw tightening, a choked grunt escaping him, despite how badly he tries to hold it back. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Sylus?” you whisper incredulously, your fingers pausing, “Does that hurt?”

Sylus doesn’t answer, his breath coming out in shallow and needy pants, eyes shut as he hovers above you. His fingers have stilled, though still between your folds. Your worry dissipates when your eyes drift down, trailing down his trembling abdomen, all the way to the lump in his lap that ruts desperately against your thigh.

It’s then you realize that your formidable dragon does indeed have a weakness.

How adorable.

So with Sylus’s finger still parting your soaked lips, you use one hand to tenderly grab one of his horns, the other hand coming down to palm his bulge. His reaction makes you bite your lip with satisfaction, as his knees nearly buckle, still hovering above you, and his eyes filling with a volatile hunger.

“You never learn do you?” he bites out, but he doesn’t pull away, his body only leaning further into your touch. His head nuzzles ever so slightly into your fingers that are still intertwined into his hair, stroking his horns.

“I would say I’m faring quite well, wouldn’t you agree?” you croon, emboldened by the way his hips thrust down into your open palm, even if only imperceptibly.

At your adorably bold words, Sylus smirks at you, head cocked in amusement. His red eyes glimmer, a thick cloud of predatory desire swirling in the pools of garnet.

“You shouldn’t taunt a dragon, my love.”

You shriek when Sylus’s finger enters you, claw and all. You’re so wet that the brief sting of his lethal talon only serves to intensify the overwhelming waves of ecstasy he’s so deliberate in giving you. His finger moves so intentionally inside you, careful to only use the tip of his claw in ways that will have you clenching him for more.

Sylus swears under his breath as he watches the way you writhe against the ruby flora, his erection growing unbearably painful and wet within the constraints of his pants.

Dragons may not have the ability to recognize beauty. But as you clung to him, nails digging into his skin, sweet voice only capable of calling out for him, your wide eyes fluttering open and shut in overwhelming ecstasy…

Sylus knew there was nothing more beautiful in this world.

“Sy-Sylus,” you cry, “It’s t-too much. C-can’t–!” The dangerous feeling of his claws inside you is starting to make you delirious, your head dizzy with the need to come undone all over his fingers. The foreign pressure in your abdomen scares you into trying to scamper away from his hand, finger flicking inside your constricting walls

“Hm? Don’t you trust me sweetheart? I know exactly how much my little dragoness can take,” he murmurs gruffly, his thumb pressing harder into you. It seems Sylus knows exactly what he’s doing to you, because his tail wraps firmly around your waist, locking you in place, demanding you receive every bit of him.

“You can take another, hm?” he asks, but his tone all but commands it.

Your eyes widen; honestly you don’t think you can. Just one of his fingers has you feeling like you might pass out from the unfamiliar feelings of pleasure. Just one of his fingers has you feeling so full you might combust.

He’s on his knees between your legs now–the juxtaposition of such a formidable being kneeling before, pleading for your pleasure, makes your body clench with even more anticipation.

“D-don’t know if I ca-aan,” you whimper brokenly, body still pathetically arching into his hands, chasing an ecstasy you don’t even know if you can handle.

Sylus tuts gently, “Tch–you can. I need to stretch you out here before anything else can happen.”

You shiver at his words, trusting the foreboding warning wholeheartedly. Sylus was a dragon, after all, and you had no doubt he would be well-endowed, like everything else about him. Probably much more than your poor human body would be able to take.

And the thought of that alone makes you crave him like nothing before.

So you nod slowly, and Sylus smiles, the pride evident in his eyes.

“Good girl.”

Sylus tips your chin up towards him with the tip of his claw, capturing your lips into a kiss that steals your breath away. At the same time, he slips another finger into you.

He swallows your cries, and your fingers frantically grab hold of the grass around you, tearing and shredding at the green blades. If it weren’t for his tail wrapped around your waist, holding you in place, you’d be thrashing wildly, the ecstasy of his two fingers and claws inside your plush walls nearly unbearable.

Sylus’s nips at your lips, before his tongue replaces them and stakes claim to every inch of your mouth. He groans into you, using his spare hand to palm his painful erection, still restrained in the confines of his pants. When he pulls away, saliva dribbles down your chin, his lips trailing kisses down your jaw and to the shell of your ear.

“So tight around just my fingers,” Sylus seethes hungrily, his hand moving faster now, breath coming out shallow and hot against your ear, “I’m the only one that’s ever been here, hm?”

He curls his fingers inside you, his claws grazing just slightly against the spongy surface of your walls, demanding a verbal response from you. His voice drips with a possessive intensity that makes your entire body throb.

“Of course,” you whine, slightly embarrassed as your body arches up to meet his hand's ministrations, close to coming undone, “Wh-When would I have…at the Sanctuary…?”

A deep and satisfied rumble of satisfaction comes from Sylus’s chest, as he buries his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. Almost like a purr.

“Mine.”

With two of his fingers scissoring in and out of you, stretching you out to your max, you quickly feel like you’re about to absolutely burst, the edges of your vision turning white, stars clouding your sight.

“Ngghnh–Syluus…” you slur, your eyes watering, slightly terrified, “C-can’t anymore. Feels like m’gonna explode–!”

Sylus growls excitedly, fingers moving more insistently, literally trying to pull the orgasm out of you. The sounds of his palm slapping against dripping pussy grow louder and louder, all your senses overwhelmed until you’re on the verge of losing consciousness to it all.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Sylus praises, his canines at your earlobes, his own voice tinged with a primal hunger that’s barely held back by a thin string of restraint, “Cum for me, just like that.”

Though his words are simple, there’s an underlying command that lies just beneath the surface. Sylus would never stoop as low as to beg for anything, dragons were incredibly prideful beings after all, but more than anything he needed to see you cum, right now–for the very first time. Something he’d imagined more times he’d care to admit, on the many late nights you’d shared looking up at the moon after a journey of ravaging and plundering treasures.

So instead of begging, Sylus sinks his teeth into the brand on your shoulder, once again laying his claim on you. Your sweet taste fills his mouth and he can’t stop the muffled moan that escapes him, devouring you to his absolute content, fingers never faltering once.

Your eyes roll into your head at the indescribable sensation of pain and pleasure that surge from your neck, the shockwaves connecting with the same spasms of ecstasy that emanate from his fingers buried in your cunt.

“Sy-Sylus—! Ngh–It’s c-coming!” you can’t stop yourself from screaming unabashedly, though it didn’t matter as Sylus made sure there wouldn’t be anyone for miles and miles, for this very reason.

He doesn’t respond, alternating between biting and licking affectionately–aggressively–at the place he had marked you as his. His tail tightens around you, making you feel so deliciously suffocated, in the best ways. Making it feel like your very life depended on him.

Your next breath of air, your unrelenting pleasure, your soul.

Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.

With a strangled cry of his name, you feel the foreign sensation of a tension cord snapping in your gut, followed by a warm gush of mind numbing euphoria that consumes your entire quivering body.

Sylus swears under his breath, his fingers slowing but not stopping, helping you ride out the lasting waves of your very first orgasm. He releases your tender skin from his teeth, his hot breath blowing against you. His claws capture your chin between them, gently pulling your head back down to meet his eyeline.

“Look at the mess you’ve made, Y/N,” Sylus hums, slipping his fingers out of you and lifting them so you can clearly see the way they’re dripping with something clear and wet. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

“It’s not m’fault,” your voice comes out annoyingly shaky, still recovering from the earth-shattering experience. You swat his hands away weakly, “Stop. S’embarrassing.”

Sylus chuckles, letting you push his hands back towards him. But he tenses suddenly, the thick muscles of his arms locking. The planes of his sharp jaw twinge, his entire body rigid, like he’d just been struck by lightning.

“Sylus?” you whisper, sitting up and cupping his cheek into your palm, “What’s wrong?”

Sylus’s eyes are locked onto his fingers, his nostrils twitching. You’re mortified when Sylus brings his fingers to his face, his movements almost trancelike.

“Don’t do that,” you protest, eyes wide, moving to grab his wrist. But Sylus dodges you easily, swiftly removing his arm from your grasp, the smell of you on his fingers intoxicating him to the point of madness. The sheer primal hunger in his blood-red eyes is so far away, you almost don’t recognize him.

You’re acutely aware that you’re currently no more than a little rabbit trapped in a lion’s den. If it weren’t for the way his tail still wrapped around your waist so tenderly, you’d think he was the same Fiend that nearly lost himself and killed you that day.

Sylus doesn’t speak, his chest heaving erratically as he brings his fingers up to his lips, tongue catching every rivulet of your slick. His pupils dilate, locked onto you, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the carmine pools, his primal instincts nearly taking control. One thing swims to the surface above them all.

Hunger.

In a fraction of a second, you find yourself pinned to the grassy floor again, your head thudding to the ground against Sylus’s protective hand. Your wrists are bound above your head, with one of your thighs held open by Sylus’s tail and the other with his knee. His lips are everywhere, first at your neck, then down your shoulder, lingering at your mark, then trailing down your collar, to your breasts.

“Mm–ngh! Sylus?” you can hardly speak as he lingers at the swell of your chest, “What are you doing?”

“I can taste you,” he hisses, reaching your naval. You can vaguely recall the conversation you’d had with him awhile back–that dragons couldn’t understand a song’s melody or see the beauty in patterns.

Taste the flavors in food.

“More,” is all he’s capable of biting out, before prying your thighs apart. Of course, Sylus had no idea what it meant for something to taste sweet, how the burgundy jewels of the pomegranates you loved so much tasted. But if he had to take a guess…

They’d be nothing compared to the honey he had found between your legs.

“But��I thought dragons c-couldn’t…ah–!” you trail incredulously, yelping as Sylus hooks one of his arms under your knees, sweeping you briefly off the ground so he can yank your skirt off in one swift motion.

You’re left in only your drenched undergarments, skirt thrown somewhere to the side as Sylus resumes his relentless journey into your inner thighs, leaving a trail of angry hickeys in his wake.

“We can’t,” Sylus pants into you, suckling on the soft plush of your thighs, eyeing the glistening folds of your cunt that peek through your sodden panties like his next prey. He’s so close that you can feel his hot breath against your core, and it only makes you wetter.

“But apparently I can taste this.”

The moan you let out is more beautiful than any melody you could ever sing for him, as his mouth closes over your clit, tongue wedging between your slicked lips.

“W-Wait Sylus, m’sensitive!” you protest, still coming down from the way he’d just made your body explode minutes earlier, your core quivering against the heavy demand of his lips. But as you sit up on your elbows and peer down at the silver-haired dragon between your legs, taking one look at Sylus, you know there is absolutely no getting through to him.

Sylus has his mouth latched onto you, like he’s trying to drink your essence right from the source. His nose is buried right beneath your clit, every slightest movement causing the strong ridges to brush against the taut bundle of nerves, making it difficult for you to think straight.

You try to sit up further, but Sylus’s large palm comes up to flatten against your stomach, forcing you back down. He looks up at you, eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed, practically glaring at you.

“Don’t deny me of this,” he growls pleadingly, the sheer need in his voice making your toes curl against the grass.

The strength of his hand has you flopping back down, your body already succumbing to Sylus, yet again. You want to curse your traitorous body as it grinds into his greedy mouth, your mind battling your body’s instinct to chase the feelings that only Sylus can seem to give you.

Why not just give in? That’s what Sylus had been teaching you, right?

Live freely and die without regrets.

You grab two fistfulls of Sylus’s soft silver hair, pulling him impossibly closer to the apex of your thighs, shivering as he moans into you. His thick arms wrap around your thighs, holding on greedily, claws digging in.

“I should punish you for keeping this from me,” Sylus pants, pulling away for a brief second, giving you a pointed smirk. He uses his thumb to wipe the sheen of your arousal from his bottom lip.

“You can’t always get what you want Sylus. Sometimes you have to work for it,” you quip breathlessly, reeling from the sudden lack of his warm and wet tongue.

Sylus chuckles, dark and rich. The dangerous glint in his ruby eyes is one that is all too familiar to you. Your skin crawls, pebbling with goosebumps, and before you can scamper away from him, his fingers come down with a resounding wet ‘smack’ against your unsuspecting cunt.

“Sy-Sylus!” you cry, halfway between a screech and a moan, your body convulsing into a painful arch as it reaches up to meet his palm. Sylus uses that moment to hook his other hand under your back, lifting your body up with one arm, and hoisting you into the air.

You flail as he swings you around, pulling at his hair until you grasp his horns. Sylus hisses, and you find yourself back on the soft grass matted floor. But this time you’re on your knees, straddling Sylus’s face.

“Sylu–ngh!” your eyes widen when his tongue licks at your slit, “P-Please! This is embari-ngh-sing!” It’s impossible to get your words out coherently when his tongue is moving so insistently, trying to drain every drop of your essence.

He digs his claws into the tops of your thighs, trying to pull you down, despite the way you fight to keep yourself propped up on your heels.

“Don’t resist,” he tuts, his voice muffled and rough, “Sit, love.”

”No!” you protest petulantly, sobbing in ecstasy as he sucks down hard on your clit, as if punishing you for your disobedience, “I’m heavy. Don’t wanna squash you.”

“Do you truly think so little of me?” he scoffs, positively offended, his breath warm against your core, “Sit. Now.”

You bite your lip in uncertainty as you stay hovering above him. Sylus remains patient, indulging himself instead by sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your inner thighs. You tremble, nearly doubling over as he suckles on your leg, biting a trail of flowery bruises leading up to your core.

You remain stubbornly, but shakingly, upright. Sylus sighs, losing his patience completely and yanking you down by your thighs, leaving you with no choice but to completely fall onto his waiting mouth.

Your eyes roll back, knees buckling entirely, when Sylus’s tongue enters you, stretching you out over his overeager lips. Your entire body nearly gives out, as you fall forward, your hands barely coming out in time to catch you before you collide with the meadow floor.

But when your palms are supposed to meet the grassy floor, Sylus catches them instead, your fingers intertwining desperately. The tips of his claws stroke your burning skin, terribly soothing compared to the way his tongue was ravishing you so filthily.

Your body reacts to him so readily, your hips starting to grind down almost instinctively, much to Sylus’s satisfaction. His cock twitches, heart nearly pounding through the veins that bulge along the sides, at the idea of you using him for yourself. He hums in pleasure, pressing a teasing kiss to your clit and whispering, “That’s it sweetheart, take what you want from me.”

His words make you squirm. Your hands card through Sylus’s soft silver locks, grabbing hold of his ebony horns for leverage. Sylus growls at your core, the vibrations of his low rumble making you writhe and grind harder onto his lips, your body being pushed toward another explosive release.

“Hah, c-can’t anymore!” you cry, gripping his horns tighter, riding his face for dear life. Sylus doesn’t speak, but his enthusiastic tongue wordlessly conveys his words for him.

You might not be able to, but you will.

Your thighs cling to him, hips rolling into him with wild abandon. Everything about him, his honeyed words, his expert tongue, his possessive fingers make your body desperate for more, to take everything it wants. You’re so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t notice the way Sylus is likewise losing his mind beneath you.

The way you grip his unbearably sensitive horns makes him jerk with need, the taste of your arousal a never ending drug on his tongue. Above all, the way you rode him, the way your body sought exactly what it desired, the way you surrendered to desire, to him, in this moment.

You truly were the other half of his soul.

“O-Oh go–od Sylus!” you moan brokenly, your voice hoarse from the incessant cries, bordering on screams, for him. Your thumbs dig into where his horns meet his scalp, your chest heaving violently as you try to stay upright on his tongue, coming undone across his eagerly waiting lips.

Sylus growls in relief, his enthusiasm bordering on obsession. His tongue laps up every honeyed drop, savoring a taste he knew he’d become all too addicted to. Luckily for him, he’d have you for the rest of eternity. And he fully intended on tasting you, devouring you, every day of his life.

As you start to climb off his face, Sylus grabs you before you can crawl onto the floor, away from him. He carries you as delicately as he would the blooming daturas that surround you, laying you before him, settling between your parted thighs.

“Sylus,” you murmur breathlessly, looking up at him. The waning sun peeks out behind his head, the sky a sunset sorbet that is beginning to melt into the indigo of approaching night. With the fading sun behind him, he is an utterly devastating sight for sore eyes.

You loop your arms around his neck, dragging him down to you. He grunts, letting himself be pulled down to you, a ghost of a smile on his kiss bitten lips.

“I want…” you murmur hoarsely, trailing off as you let your fingers fall, tracing the muscles of his chest, drifting further south until they are grazing the defined contours of his abdomen.

Sylus’s fingers grasp your chin, bringing your eyes back up, where you meet his fiery gaze. His thumb presses into your bottom lip, prying your mouth open gently.

“Go on, my dove,” he hums, his voice practically a purr as he presses the lethal tip of his claw onto your tongue, “Tell me what it is you want.”

You open your lips to speak but between your sore throat, parched from your incessant moans, and the foreign desire still growing in both your gut and your heart, you were far too ashamed to speak further. But with the way Sylus was staring at you, his right eye flickering dangerously, you knew he could see right into your soul.

Sylus’s lips turn up into an absolute shit-eating smirk, his beautiful deep garnet irises gleaming with a rich amusement.

“Can’t speak anymore?” he chuckles amusedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“That’s alright,” he murmurs, his voice taking on a snarl that’s simultaneously dangerously edged yet velveteen. The ends of his claws trace your pulse as his fingers venture down, making your breath hitch. You shiver, giddy at the idea that those very talons, that were capable of such destruction, were now caressing you with so much tender passion.

“All you’ll need to be able to say is Sylus, hm?”

You light absolutely ablaze at his filthy words, your stomach churning in anticipation at what you know is coming. What you want more than anything you’ve ever known.

His fingers, that’d found their way to the swell of your chest, shred the delicate straps of your corset with the slightest flick of his claws. You squeal as your naked body is exposed to the elements, writhing as the wind nips at your bare skin.

“Hey!” you protest hoarsely, sitting up, your arms darting to wrap around your chest, “Was that really necessary?!” But of course, Sylus is far quicker than you. He catches your wrists easily, holding them in his hands, leaving you beautifully exposed before his hungry eyes.

“No,” he smirks cheekily, face coming inches from yours, his breath fanning across your lips. You glare at him in annoyance, which only makes his grin widen.

“Now it’s my turn to take what I want,” he murmurs, pushing you flat against the grass. With your hands still restrained against his palm, he kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of claiming bruises along the way.

“Beautiful. The truest treasure,” he rasps between kisses. He lingers on the mark on your shoulder, not being able to help but to indulge himself there.

A stream of unabashed moans escape your lips as Sylus bites down, hard. So hard you think he might draw blood. His canines are so close to your pulse; your instincts scream at you to flee, but your soul forces you to stay.

Pain and pleasure, it was all the same. If Sylus was giving it, you wanted it.

This is the man fate had destined for you. Your dragon.

And you fully intended to show him that as well.

With his head at your shoulder, his own neck exposed to you, you couldn’t help but press your lips into his pulse. Sylus tenses in surprise, unwittingly sensitive, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, his body bucks into yours, his pelvis pressing into you, as if desperately seeking something from you.

“You never learn do you, my little sparrow?” he bites out, his voice rough and raspy. Despite his words, he doesn’t pull away in the slightest. You smile into his neck and gently sink your teeth into his soft skin, desperate to mark him in the same way he’d marked you.

Sylus's breath grows erratic against you, his chest heaving unsteadily. His hands come up to hold you possessively against him, his powerful tail coils around your arched waist, like you might disappear at any second. Your fingers thread into his hair, hooking onto his horns again, as you continue to kiss into his neck.

But suddenly, Sylus is yanking himself away from you, his tail prying you off of him.

“Too much?” you mumble apologetically as you watch him straighten up, waiting for him to settle back down.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he props himself onto his knees, focussed and dangerous. Like a predator before the hunt.

“No. It’s not enough.”

With that, he’s undoing the buckle of his belt, his darkened eyes never leaving yours. You can’t help but bite your lip as you watch the bulging veins of his forearms, his hand reaching into his undone pants. Sylus looks devastatingly handsome as he undresses himself before you, eyeing you like his next meal.

You don’t get to see him pull himself out before Sylus is back on you, his lips fervently attacking yours. You don’t know what’s changed, because the Sylus that’s kissing you right now has completely thrown restraint to the wind, like he’s trying to claim every fiber of your being with this one kiss.

His body is so imposing atop yours that, even naked, you feel nothing but warm and safe in the evening breeze. He’s so close, you can feel his eyelashes on your cheek. But you can’t stop pulling him closer, moaning in satisfaction when he holds you bruisingly tighter.

Still, you want more of him.

Your hand inches down to grasp his manhood in your fingers, pulling away from the kiss with a choke. Being a dragon, you had no doubt that Sylus would be larger than what you’d been told was average from the other women at the Sanctuary. As soon as your fingers make contact, Sylus’s tail is roped around your wrist, the thick scales digging into your burning skin, his eyes filled with a volatile hunger.

He doesn’t pull you away. His tail wrapped around your wrist seems to be more of a silent warning.

If you continue, there’s no going back.

Sylus’s eyes follow you carefully, his right eye shining as he seems to read your every whim and wonder. Every doubt, every fear, every fantasy.

“You can take it, sweetheart,” he coos reassuringly, reading your mind like the back of his hand, thumb catching a stray tear you hadn’t even known had fallen, “I’ve more than prepared you.”

You eye him skeptically, taking a deep breath, peering down at where your bodies are firmly pressed together. Your breath hitches at how pathetically small your hand looks wrapped around him, his erection as beautiful as it was terrifying.

How many fingers had you been able to take earlier? Two?

You were fucked. Literally.

“Y/N,” Sylus calls, his voice taking on a tender warmth that you rarely heard from him, clearly able to read your nervousness.

He grips your chip and tilts your face back up to meet his eyes. Hoisting you up by your waist, he sets you on his lap so that you’re straddling him, wrapping your legs around his hips. His cock stands proudly, arousal smearing all over your bare navel, brushing against your clit as he presses you so deeply into his body that it rests between your leaking folds. Fitting like a puzzle piece.

“I have waited over a millennium for this. For you. I can wait a millennium more, until you’re ready.”

Your body immediately reacts to his profoundly heartfelt words, your chest constricting and your core fluttering. It’s not hard to decide what you want, right then and there.

“I trust you, Sylus,” you say firmly, voice still raspy and hoarse, “I want you. Please.”

Sylus curses under his breath. One forearm wraps around your ass, lifting you and his other hand angling himself so that his thick leaking head is nudging right at your entrance, begging to be inside you. You writhe at the friction, your hips rocking onto him on instinct.

The silver haired man growls, arms tightening around you like a vice, “You drive me insane, Y/N,” he rasps into your ear, his breath hot and heavy.

At long last, he presses himself into you. Crying out, your nails dig into his shoulders, sure to break skin. The discomfort was immeasurable, your body wildly confused by the intense pain but the strange feeling of intimacy.

“I don’t think I can–I can’t!” your hips locking, eyes welling with tears. The stretch was beyond anything you could have ever fathomed, and you were almost sure he would break you.

“You can, you can,” he soothes, almost desperately, like he was terrified you might ask him to stop. Every muscle in his body was locked and tense as he fought the urge to ram right into you, ravaging you like every instinct was telling him to do.

With even just the tip barely inside, he knew this was far too dangerous. The feeling of you wrapped around him was far too addicting, one of few things that threatened to make him lose all humanity to the untamed dragon blood flowing through his veins.

You always were his one weakness.

The urgency, the desperation, in his voice makes your tummy flutter, your body tightening in response to him.

Sylus hisses, his tail constricting around your waist, claws digging into the fat of your hips, “Don’t tighten up. Not if you want me to be gentle.”

“Am I?” you moan as he shifts, sinking slightly more into you, “M’sorry Sy. D-didn't mean to.”

A low rumble ripples from his chest as he does his best not to slam you down the rest of the way down onto the hilt of his cock. Which was nearly impossible because every time he moved at all, he swore your pussy was trying to choke him out.

“Is it all the way in yet?” you whisper, fighting to keep your voice level. You had never felt more full in your life, your gut on the verge of splitting. The pain and since dulled into a somewhat bearable ache, but it was by no means comfortable.

“Half way, love,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes widen in shock, “W-What?!” You look down between your bodies, and sure enough, Sylus was still hoisting you halfway above his impossibly massive member. There’s a faint smear of red across the sheen of your combined arousals. Your blood.

Before you can speak further, Sylus presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath as his own. He swallows your moans, his tongue and cock simultaneously sinking further into you.

A string of saliva connects your lips when he pulls away, his fingers tenderly holding your chin, his darkened scarlet eyes piercing into yours. His right eye glimmers with a dangerous edge.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he rasps, still hanging onto his last thread of his control, “You can take it all, can’t you? Perfect little mate.”

Your chest and core simultaneously flutters at his words and you’re fueled with a newfound confidence and an overwhelming wave of lust. It really seemed that Sylus knew exactly what to say to you to have you wanting more.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you roll your hips, trying to inch your own way down him, practically able to feel his pulsing veins throbbing against your gummy walls. The pain from the stretch was still there, but Sylus had prepped you so thoroughly that it was beginning to be difficult to feel anything but good.

“I can take more Sylus,” you murmur into his ear, pressing a wet kiss into his throbbing pulse, “I want more.”

An animalistic snarl rips out from deep within Sylus’s chest. His fingers squeeze literally bruises into your hips as he whispers back into your ear, breath hot and heavy.

“Yeah? That’s my girl,” he rasps, trying to contain his hunger, before lowering you the rest of the onto his cock, seating you entirely on his lap.

He gives you a second to adjust, licking the tears that had started to stream down your cheek. It quickly feels unnatural, and you’re desperate for some friction, the pressure of him at your cervix too intense.

“Ngh–Sy-Sylus,” you moan, “Please, move–do something.”

Sylus twitches inside you, your words fueling him with the desire to breed you full of him, “You’re playing with fire, my little dragon.”

He wraps his thick arms around your body and begins to bounce you up and down on his lap, trying to keep a slow and gentle rhythm, doing his best to ensure you’d be in as little pain as possible.

Of course it didn’t matter, with his sheer size alone, pain was inevitable.

But so was pleasure.

Your body had begun reacting to Sylus all on its own, your hips rolling into Sylus’s sculpted abdomen, trying to pull him deeper into your saccharine heat.

“Ngh–haah…Sy-Sylus!” you splutter, fingers clawing deep red welts into the ropes of muscles on his back, “Feels…”

His tail tightens around your waist, the tip stroking along your thigh, almost affectionately. His pace grows increasingly more vigorous, more excited, as he watches your face contort in different phases of pain and pleasure, “You feel incredible.”

His words, the feral rasp in his voice, so animalistically raw and primal, makes your entire body clench with excitement. And Sylus can feel all of it, every quiver, every twitch.

“You’re so damn tight,” he bites out, rutting up into you, “Trying to break me?”

“You’re–ngh–s’dramatic,” you tease, weaving your fingers through his hair and stroking his horns.

Sylus’s tail grips you, his body tensing as you gently provoke the sensitive ebony spurs. You can swear his rhythm falters, but he composes himself instantly. The rough scales lining his muscular tail sink into your skin, leaving beautiful little crescents behind.

“Am I now?” Sylus smirks, his tone warning you that you’ve used up all his mercy. Your cries amplify as Sylus’s intensity picks up, his pelvis slamming into your cheeks. You’re so caught up in the borderline violent thrusts that you don’t notice when Sylus’s head dips down, his lips latching onto your breast.

“Oh Gods,” your voice is hoarse and broken with desire, nearly drowned out by the wet slaps of his body pounding into yours. On the other hand, Sylus’s mouth is deceptively tender, suckling so gently, teeth grazing so intentionally. His coarse fingers pinch the nipple that he can’t attend to with his tongue, all the while still driving himself deep into your gut.

His free hand comes down between your bodies, the slick that had smeared there coating his fingers as he finds your clit, sending your eyes into the back of your head. The valley echoes with a broken record of your combined cries of pleasure and the lewd sound of wet skin colliding.

“Does every inch of you taste this damn exquisite?” Sylus demands breathlessly when he pulls away from your breasts. The way you felt wrapped around him was making it difficult to control his instincts, needing to remind himself that he needed to be careful with you.

“Hah…only t’you–! Only for you,” you can barely register the words coming out as your ears pound, your vision starting to blur as the same tension you’d felt twice earlier starts to build in again.

A possessive growl erupts from Sylus’s chest, unable to contain his instincts. But the corners of his lips quirk, a pleased smile gracing his features.

“Only for me, hm?” he licks a stripe from your neck to the mark on your shoulder making your entire body shudder.

Sylus’s talons dig into your thighs, now using both the strength of his thighs and arms to fuck you relentlessly onto him. Your back arches backward at the sheer force of his body and you use your palms to catch yourself on the ground behind you. Sylus’s tail steadies you, but at this angle he reaches a new depth inside of you, his impossibly thick cockhead roughly caressing a sensitive spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“O-Oh Gods, oh Go-ods! Sylus–!” you chant like a broken prayer, your lower half rolling into Sylus’s lap impulsively, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You use your hands that are planted on the ground behind you to give you leverage, just letting your body do whatever feels right, feels natural.

With every roll of your hips, your clit brushes against the silvery mat of wet hair painting Sylus’s pelvis, making your eyes gloss over with a fucked out bliss that has Sylus nearly coming undone himself.

His eyebrows furrow, red eyes swirling with shadows as he watches you atop his cock, his mate. The distinct outline of him strains against your delicate skin every time he thrusts into you, bulging against your naval.

Did you have any idea how insane you were driving him right now?

He hooks his hand behind your waist, just one palm enough to cup the small of your back and pull you back to him. He pulls you flush to his body, your bare chest pressed against his, your hearts pounding against one another.

“I’m a selfish man, Y/N,” he rasps into your ear, fighting to not explode into your gummy walls.

“S’okay,” you cup his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss, “I love that about you. I love you.”

Sylus’s tail tenses, still wrapped possessively around you, your proclamation making him snap. Before you know what’s happening, you find yourself being thrown back onto the grassy floor, Sylus’s hands cupping the back of your head as he sets you on the ground. Somehow, he still finds a way to keep himself snug inside you, unwilling to pull away for even a split second.

“Sylus!” you cry out, half in surprise, half in excitement, as his heavy body presses down onto you, his lips less than an inch from yours, cock nearly in your throat.

“Sweetheart,” he groans, voice coming out unusually…frenzied.

He truly was a selfish man, in every sense of the word.

“You can take another for me, right?”

“Another?” you squeak when he licks your cheek playfully, tenderly.

“I’m pretty sure I can…cum–” you flush at the word, still slightly reserved with your newfound sexuality, “–again.”

Sylus chuckles huskily, pressing a soft kiss into your lips, “That’s not what I meant.”

Though he keeps his voice level, he couldn’t keep his heart from hammering erratically in his chest. You felt so indescribably perfect wrapped around him, he couldn't even fathom that it could get better than this.

You were everything he imagined, and then some.

You groan when he shifts to his knees, repositioning himself. Sylus moves his hand to grab the base of his length, and you’re about to protest, not wanting him to pull himself out of you.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, you feel the odd sensation of something else poking at where he had already had you completely full with his ridiculously thick cock. Something that was grinding against your clit, like he would with his thumb, toying with you as if also trying to get inside you. Something equally, if not more, massive than what was already nestled inside of you.

There was no way he thought he could possibly fit more inside you.

With your eyes wide, you shakily, address the silver haired man hovering above you, “H-How did I not see that you have t-two?!”

Sylus throws his head back with a breathless laugh, his entire body shaking. He strokes your cheek with the tip of his ebony claws, staring wryly at you with his sparkling crimson eyes.

“The same way I can hide my wings.”

He strokes the leaking tip of his second cock along your clit, making you shiver. You can’t deny how good it feels, and how exhilarating the thought of it is. The way he looks at you, desperate, feral, and with all the intensity a hunter would stare at its prey.

It makes it impossible for you to think coherently, the lust overpowering all sensibility.

“You can take it,” he coos encouragingly, using his second tip to smear your combined slick around your taut opening, as if preparing you to take him.

“You could–ngh– barely get one in, what makes you think I’ll be able to take two–!?” you writhe, forcing the words out as Sylus continues to slowly rock into you.

Your squirming only makes you tighten further on Sylus, working him up further. His second cock had hardened to the point of pain, no matter how firmly he stroked it. It needed you, and nothing else could satisfy him.

The desire on Sylus’s face, on his body, is palpable. You can see the beads of sweat gliding down his sculpted face as he restrains himself, his chest heaving as he tries to lock his instincts away, a dark storm of frustration in his eyes.

“Oo-kay, I’ll try,” you murmur, hoping to the Gods you’ll live to see another day. Sylus’s carmine eyes light up, a proud grin donning his devilishly handsome features.

“Good girl.”

He forcefully pounds against you, still only letting his second cock grind against your clit. Every thrust causes it to glide against you, rubbing against the sensitive bud, like he was fucking the lips of your cunt with it.

Your fingers claw at the ground as the anticipation boils, waiting for him to just put it in.

“Sy–ngah–just do it alr–”

He presses his thumb into your lips, interrupting the beginnings of your frantic rambles.

“Breathe out.”

Just as Sylus’s hips are about to snap against your cheeks again, you feel him finally push himself into you.

Your eyes go wide, mouth agape, as he stretches you until you fear you may actually pass out. You’re so wet that it doesn’t take much to coax it through the initial stretch. But it still hurts, far worse than when he’d initially penetrated you.

However there is also far more pleasure than before. The two sensations tug at one another, making your mind reel with tumultuous chaos. A tormenting mixture of ecstasy and torment, threatening to shatter your mind.

“S-Sylus, I-I can’t, s’not gonna fit,” you whimper when the stretch becomes too much. Peering down, you see that you’d taken the entire head of his second cock, and you don’t think you can take any more.

Sylus groans, his eyes squeezed shut, a storm brewing within him. The feeling of your perfect cunt wrapped around both of his cocks was unlike anything he could have ever imagined, and he was at war with the feral part of himself that was threatening to break free and take you like he was in rut.

“It will fit, my love,” he soothes tenderly, his fingers rubbing soft circles into your hips.

He bends down, taking your chin in his fingers to pull you in for a kiss. But before your lips meet, he whispers heatedly, eyes overcast with a swirl of inexplicable emotions.

“You were made for me, Y/N. Of course it’ll fit.”

His eyes flicker to your lips, before coming back to your eyes, silently asking for your okay before proceeding. As much as he wanted this, more than anything he wanted you to want it too.

Your heart swells, core fluttering at his words. Sylus hisses when he feels your walls clenching against him, inadvertently sinking further into you.

Gasping, you pull him the rest of the way towards you, circling your arms around his neck, and pushing your lips onto his. You take that moment to arch into him, letting him push deeper into you, biting down on his lip as he sinks further to the hilt.

Sylus kisses you so fiercely that you don’t even notice that he’s fully inside you, both cockheads pressed as deep as they will possibly go. Just as he claims every inch of you with his tongue, his arousal coats every part of you, marking you from the inside.

He pulls away with a snarl, his entire chest shuddering, a visible sheen of sweat glistening on his muscled body, “Sweetheart, I need to move.”

You nod, eyelashes fluttering as you fight to keep your eyes open, “Mmngh–you can move, Sy. I-I want you to.”

Sylus’s eyes darken, his palm slamming down on the ground beside your head. He’s completely hovering over you now, his lower body pressed so deliciously into you. Like he owned you.

Laid out against the tapestry of blooming datura, you made his heart stutter, his right eye twinging with inexplicable desire. You were more magnificent than any work of art. After 1,600 years walking these lands, Sylus finally knew what beauty was.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, slowly pulling out of you before rolling his hips back into you. He’s so deep, stretching you so full, body so heavy on top of yours. You can’t feel anything but him, and it makes you want to come undone all over him again. That sensation in your gut, that you had become all too familiar with, had already built to a near bursting breaking point.

“Soo deep–angh–s’fuuull,” you slur, graspingf his horns again, stroking them affectionately, letting the rough ebony edges ground you.

“Fuck,” Sylus curses sharply as you grope his sensitive horns, barely able to contain his own moans. His knees nearly buckle, using only his arms to keep him propped up over you. Squeezing his eyes shut, he takes a deep breath, forcing himself to regain his composure.

His hips roll into you like the tides of the ocean, his pace smooth and rhythmic. There’s a filthy wet ‘smack!’ every time his pelvis hammers into you, the ecstasy your bodies create together makes you leak uncontrollably, even so tightly plugged up by both his lengths.

“Feel me right here, love?” he grounds out, using one hand to press down firmly on the soft plush of your stomach. You squeal when you feel him pushing down on you, forcing your sensitive spots to clamp down on him. With two of his cocks inside you, there’s absolutely no space for that, the pleasure it brings you sharp and overwhelming.

“Yes-yes—! Please!” you plead, hoping he’ll have mercy on you. He’s driving you closer and closer to another orgasm, and you don’t know if you’ll survive this one.

Sylus can feel it too, the way your saccharine walls begin to squeeze him so sweetly, your beautiful starry eyes hazing over—too fucked out to focus, your clit hardened to a pebble against the slicked mat of silvery hair dusting his pelvis.

With you like this under him, mercy is not something he’s interested in.

In fact, Sylus had never felt like more of a beast than he did now. And the only thing he had an appetite for was you. The only thing that could sate his hunger was feeling you come undone so exquisitely for him again.

He plants one foot on the ground to give him more leverage, letting him thrust down into you more powerfully. Your thighs were spread so widely to accommodate him, your feet swinging wildly as he rolled his pelvis so deliciously into you, his entire body cascading like tidal waves.

“S-Sylus–ngah!” your relentless moans for him would be embarrassing if you weren’t so deep in the hole of lust, “Soo full–ngh–feel s’full–!”

“I know, love,” he purrs, “You’re so beautiful, with me inside you.” He softly strokes the bulge in your tummy, sending shivers down your arched spine, the sensation so otherworldly.

He delicately, but firmly, grabs the back of your neck, his fingers long enough to enclose over your entire throat. Gently, he pulls you forward, forcing you to look down at where he’s palming your stomach.

“Taking me so damn well,” he growls, his fingers threading into your hair now, gripping with just enough tension to make you tremble with excitement. Your forehead knocks against his, his damp bangs fluttering against your eyes. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails clawing into the thick ropes of muscles there.

“Mngh–Syluus, I can’t take much more. M’close again–!”

His hand forces you to watch where he was literally rearranging your insides and has you teetering off the cliff of climax, hanging on for dear life. Sylus’s pace only quickens, his hips pounding into you with reckless abandon now, unable to stop himself, any previous gentleness long gone.

As a Fiend who’d spent his entire life plundering the world of its treasures and riches, he’d come to know insatiable greed. Dragons inherently took and took, feeding off the gluttony of the human soul, unable to quench their own need to acquire.

He’d spent a millennium acquiring the most exquisite jewels, extravagant weapons, rarest heirlooms–what he wanted, he took. And yet, every waking day was the hollow echo of a broken harmonium.

But now, with your angelic little cunt wrapped so perfectly around both his cocks. Your nightingale voice that so often innocently serenaded him, moaning his name like a prayer, greedily begging for more. Your fluttering, doe eyes, glimmering back at him with an entire universe of emotions–desire, anticipation, greed, love.

Sylus realized he’d never known true desire. Not until he’d met you. Nothing he’d ever experienced compared to what it felt like now, to want you–to need you.

And he’d desire nothing, now and forevermore, if he had you.

Sylus’s fiery breath fans across your lips, his hand holding the back of your head demandingly, voice raspy with an unyielding desire, “I can feel it, sweetheart.”

“Don’t make me beg, hm?”

His heat fueled words, all but a demand, make you shake to your core. Your body’s perfect reactions to him only make Sylus more vigorous with need, growing impossibly harder inside you. One leaking tip brushes relentlessly against your g-spot, the other bullying into your cervix, damn near trying to find its way into your chest.

“Sy-Sy–ngh–m’cumming–! Please–!” your neck is hinged back in an ear splitting cry, your hips arched so deeply into Sylus that your spine feels like it might snap.

“Sh-shit–just like that,” Sylus grits, groaning as your cunt tries to wring him dry, “Just like that, sweet girl. Cum for me.”

Your body convulses, goosebumps littering your skin, as Sylus continues to fuck you through your orgasm, your vision blurring and tears seeping out from the corners of your eyes.You don’t know if it’s because you’ve cum three times already, or because he has you absolutely speared on both his massive erections, or maybe because he looks down at you with all the adoration you think one could hold for even the stars. But this orgasm is far more explosive than the previous ones, and it makes you scream into the night.

You release fiercely against Sylus’s body, the wet gush of release simultaneously erotic and strange. The muscles of your thighs trembled viciously. Your cries of complete and utter pleasure are strangled, your voice nearly gone now. Sylus is cooing sweetly into your ear, but you can't hear him through the blood pounding in your head, your eyes having a hard time staying focussed.

You don’t even notice when Sylus shifts, now on his knees, his fingers grasping the plush of your hips. Your back now rests against the matted meadow floor, your vision filled with the sky that was slowly filling with stars.

But your sight is incredibly shaky, Sylus’s grip on your hips bruising as he pulls your body into his relentlessly, still chasing his own release.

Your senses slowly start to come back to you, the feeling of his cocks still rutting deeply into you sobering you up. The feeling was strange; it was by no means painful, but it was sharp and made you wince.

“Ungh, Sy–s-sensitive,” you whisper, your throat scratchy. Though his thrusts are rough, possessive, he’s somehow still careful with your body, making sure you’re not a complete ragdoll against his demanding pull. You crane your neck slightly and see that, during your momentary orgasmic state of incohesion, Sylus had placed his pants under your head, and what was left of your clothing under your naked back.

The simple gesture makes your heart skip with inexplicable happiness as you gaze up at him, admittedly growing aroused again, watching him.

His sweat matted silver bangs had been tousled back, as if he had run his fingers through them. Thick eyebrows, arched downward, darkening his already smoldering irises, watching you like you were the reason the sun rose every day. His entire body was layered in a thin sheen of sweat that made him appear as if he was chiseled from marble, like the sculptures you’d see in the Ivory City.

“You know, dragons like to mate in the sky,” Sylus groans, a near ramble, delirious with desire, clearly near his own release. His tail flickers wildly behind him, and you use your calf to rub against it. He tenses with a strangled moan, snapping his hips particularly harshly into you. Your eyes roll back as he bruises against your cervix, your sensitivity at an all time high.

“Sylus!”

“One day, hm? Right now, there’s nothing I want more than to see you spread out amongst these flowers.”

Another series of desperate ruts that have you writhing at the intensity.

“We have all the time in the world.”

His honeyed vows have you keening, your body reacting viscerally. Sylus reels when you clamp down on him, doubling over with a strangled groan.

“Not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that,” he pants into the crook of your neck, chest heaving. You loosely wrap your weak arms around his neck, nipping at his earlobe, enjoying the way he flinches.

“Please,” you beg, knowing how much he loves your greed, “I want you to, Sylus.”

A rumbling growl emits from Sylus’s chest, still pressed against yours. Your brain is far too exhausted to register how quickly he moves, maneuvering your thighs until they’re pressed against your breasts.

“Yeah?” Sylus snarls, his entire body caging you in, thighs closed over yours. You swear you can hear your muscles groan in protest, not meant to be this flexible. He’s practically sitting on you, except he keeps most of his weight off of you. From this angle he reaches the deepest he’s been able to, locking you in a mating press that he’s determined to breed you full in.

“You want me to cum in you, sweetheart?” he rasps, completely feral–too far gone. He’s ramming down into you now, using the strength of his thighs and gravity to knock the air out of your lungs, cocks reaching deep down your throat.

“Too-nghn–too deep!” You don’t know how it’s possible but you feel the coil in your core building again, and you’re certain you won’t survive it this time. It’s too fast, too sensitive, too taut.

Sylus groans, the sound of his pleasure making your mind spin. His rhythm stutters, and you swear you can feel him pulsing inside you, literal vibrations rocking your core. You’d like to think he was as close as you were, again.

“Needs t’be deep, love. If you’re going to give me an heir, hm?”

Your eyes widen at his words, heart skipping a beat. Sylus falters again, feeling you tighten at his words, before smirking crookedly at you.

“So damn tight. Does my sweet girl like that idea?” he croons, almost condescendingly, but threateningly serious.

Your vision is blurred with euphoric tears, but you can clearly see Sylus’s enchanting eyes looking down at you as they had many times before. They were always intense, the carmine hues able to peer right into your soul. But the heat in them now, as he watched you writhing in ecstasy under him, would put a wildfire to shame.

You look up at him through your dewy eyelashes, grasping his shoulders, and nod wordlessly, unbelievably aroused by his lewd words of passion.

Storm clouds swirled in his scarlet eyes and he leaned down impossibly closer to you, pressing your bodies tighter together, forcing himself deeper.

“You’re going to take my knot like a good little mate, hm?”

You weren’t entirely sure what that was, but the way Sylus said it just dripped with a possessive sensuality that made you want to submit to his every will. Your stomach flutters at the thought of it, and so you nod eagerly.

“Ungh–anything, Sy–! Anything for you.”

Sylus snarls, nearly baring his teeth, unable to contain the sheer primal joy he felt from your sinful words. He was already having a hard time keeping his instincts at bay with how you felt wrapped around him, underneath him, but now you were on the verge of making him snap entirely.

Did you have any idea what you were doing to him?

“The world needs more dragons, don’t you think?” he snarls, his hand pressing down roughly on your stomach where his two cocks threaten to erupt inside you. The implications of his hand cupping your stomach send you over the edge once more.

Gods, you’d be so beautiful carrying his brood.

“C-Cumming Sylus!” you whine, voice pathetically broken, body spent beyond belief. Your nails drag through his shoulders, piercing his skin and spilling blood, as every nerve in your body lights ablaze under his touch.

Sylus sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot on your shoulder, needing to claim you as he pushed himself to the edge. Your cunt convulses viciously against him as you cum, the feeling of your perfect heat milking both his cocks pushing him to cum with you.

“F-Fuck, Y/N–!”

Sylus explodes in you with a strangled groan of your name, his release thick, plenty, and scalding. It sends a claiming heat from your core all the way to your fingertips, making you shiver as you shudder with the waves of your climax, crying repeatedly for him.

You feel like you might burst, your stomach swollen with not only his cocks nestled in you but the sheer amount of cum he was still spurting in you. If you weren’t so blissfully fucked out, it might’ve been a bizarre sight, your tummy bulging with the weight of his unending seed painting your walls cream.

“Mine,” he groans into your neck, sinking himself back into your mark, still rocking into you, still spurting white into you. There’s far too much, leaking out of where he was still connected to you, rutting into you.

It quickly becomes too much; you’re not sure if you’d become too raw or if you’d simply had enough, but a strange pressure begins to build. And soon that pressure becomes a stinging, painful stretch.

“Sy-lus,” you whisper, tapping at his chest frantically, “W-Wait please. Something hurts.”

Sylus affectionately licks at the mark he’d branded you with, releasing your legs from the mating press he’d held you in. You whimper in relief when the tension in your hips finally releases. Sylus gently wraps your legs around his waist, but the growing pain between your thighs doesn’t subside.

“It’s my knot, love,” he growls, his voice gruff and gravely. His entire body trembles at the sensation of his knot swelling–filling you, the idea of his seed being stuffed deep inside you making it difficult for him to calm his raging instincts.

His hand palms where your thighs meet the plush of your rear, kneading into your ass and gripping you closer to him. You instinctually squirm away, the stretch becoming unbearable. But you quickly realize that you physically can’t. You’re literally locked onto him.

Sylus hisses, holding you in place, desperately trying to get you to stop moving.

“Please, sweetheart.”

From the sweat dripping down his brow, his jaw clenched so sharply it could cut stone, you realized his knot must’ve been incredibly sensitive. If you weren’t the one getting stretched out onto it, you might’ve even teased him.

“Just so big, t-too much,” you squeak as he swells further inside of you, not sure how much more you could take. You look down at where his abdomen is pressed into you, the area a pearly mess of your coalesced spend.

You could vaguely see that Sylus had in fact slipped one of his erections out of you, occluded by the sight of the other still engorged and locked inside you. You briefly wonder if the other one is also swelling with a knot. Had he pulled it out for your sake?

“How–nghah–how much more?” you pant, trying your best not to clench down.

“Almost. You’re taking me so well, Y/N,” Sylus murmurs, deceptively sweet, when all he wanted to do was ram his second knot into you. The battle between his innate draconic instincts, wanting to claim you full force like a beast, and the dual need to protect and cherish you, the last bit of his soul that was untainted.

You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, burying your face into his neck. His scent invades your senses, and you can’t help but moan, lips latching onto his racing pulse. Sylus groans, fingers grasping the back of your head and pressing you deeper into his chest. His tail wraps around your waist again, needing to be closer to you, deeper in you.

“Look at you,” he groans breathily into your ear, the swelling finally seeming to finish, “Taking my entire knot, hm?”

With his entire knot wrapped in your perfect heavenly cunt, Sylus can’t help but start rocking into you again. He’d cum so thickly inside you that his knot actually begins to thrust ever so slightly, the friction sending his eyes reeling backward.

Your eyes blow open, wincing at the feeling of prickling overstimulation. But when you see him, you find yourself not wanting to tell him to stop.

Sylus’s pearly white canines have dug into his kiss bitten lips, a rosy blush dusting his sharp cheeks. The emerging moonlight makes his argent hair even more ethereal, mussed back in an adorably messy way. His breath is heavy–desperate, face contorted in pure euphoria as he slowly thrusts into you again.

When you look up at him, you catch him watching you, his eyes overcast by the furrow of his thick eyebrows.

Reflected in the sea of searing vermillion, the adoration and worship burning brighter than the moon that illuminates a halo behind him, you see your soul reflected back at you. A soul that had been burned black, a puppet without a heart, consumed by revenge and contempt.

Until a fiendish dragon had plucked her out of the Abyss, and breathed fire back into that very hollow vessel of hatred, illuminating her spirit golden with greed.

That very greed not only saved your life, but showed you what it meant to be alive.

You let him slowly fuck his knot into you, whimpering as he stretched you to the point of breaking. Oddly enough, you didn’t hate the feeling, even though it stung. In fact, your body seemed to crave it, crave his body claiming yours.

“You feel so fucking incredible,” Sylus growls, his movements growing more and more insistent with every passing moment. From his gravelly voice you can tell he’s quickly losing control. Your eyes flutter upward, becoming overwhelmed, your poor body unable to take any more.

“Syluus, no more,” you grip his forearm, voice weak. Sylus stills when he hears the genuine pain in your voice. His lips are instantly at your temple, pressing kisses into your damp skin.

“Apologies, my love. I got carried away.”

Sylus shifts, cradling you so that you’re now on top of him, his strong arms holding you protectively. His knot, still swollen, rests tightly inside you, plugging you full of his thick seed. You listen to the thrum of his heartbeat, the two of you laying there in a serene silence that nearly lulls you into sleep.

“You are my fate,” he murmurs imperceptibly, pressing a soft kiss into the claim on your shoulder. His tail has found itself wrapped around your body again, the thick and cold scales digging pleasantly into your burning skin.

“Hm?” you mumble, sleep creeping in on your consciousness like a thick misty fog.

Sylus’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle, his fingers carding through your hair. He can feel his knot slowly beginning to subside, though his body still rides high from the passion.

“Nothing. Sleep, my little dragon.”

–

“Sing for me.”

Sylus’s wings are cocooned protectively around your naked body, seeing as he had absolutely shredded your clothes earlier. The two of you sat against the trunk of a large willow, with Sylus’s back pressed against it, and your back pressed against his chest, his thighs caged around yours. His tail rests on the ground, coiled around your feet, flickering every so often.

You’d awakened to a moonlit tapestry of stars and had stayed to admire them in the serenity of the valley, instead of heading back to the chapel.

You crane your neck to look back at him, “What, no please?”

Sylus arches an eyebrow at you, “Were you always this cheeky?”

You can’t help but let out an amused snort, “Were you always this demanding?”

Sylus grimaces, bordering dangerously close to a pout, “Will you sing for me?”

“My throat is sore,” you whine. It was wholeheartedly the truth; your voice was raw from your prior vigorous…activities. But the adorable sulk on his face has your resolve slipping away.

“Just a little,” he murmurs, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. You don’t even think he realizes he’s pouting.

You turn your eyes back to the night sky with a giggle. He always demanded you to sing for him, especially when you’d watch the moon together. It was almost a ritual for the two of you. And you rarely denied him.

♪ “This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow,” ♫

Sylus’s wings tense around you as you start singing, his chin resting on the top of your head. The gentle lilt of your voice sent a shiver down his spine, as he tried to recognize the lyrics. But he realized you hadn’t ever sung this one for him before.

♫ “If it weren't for you, I'd be here all alone,” ♪

You keep your voice low and steady as you sing the melody, staring up at the moon in the cloudless sky. It shines even brighter than it had that night in the chapel.

♪ “I know in my heart this is where we belong.” ♫

The next lines get caught in your throat when a droplet of water splashes on the crown of your head.

Odd. There hadn’t been any clouds in the sky.

You tilt your head all the way back, trying to get a better look at the sky, “It’s starting to rain.”

Sylus’s upside down face blocks your view, looming over you. He gently grasps your chin and brings your lips up to his, capturing you in a slow and tender kiss.

A few more raindrops fall onto your cheek, making you shiver. The valley rain is strangely warm.

When he releases your lips, Sylus wraps his arm around your chest, holding you to him. His heart pounds so heavily you can feel it thrumming against your naked back.

“Oh! I think the rain stopped Sylus!” you gasp, holding out your palms and extending your arms beyond the shade of the willow to try and catch some falling rainfall.

Sylus’s chest vibrates with laughter. He presses his lips into your hair, taking a deep inhale of your scent. Your pheromones nearly have him throwing you under him again, blood rushing south.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your head, shifting so his erections aren’t pressing into your spine.

Turning to look at him, you giggle in surprise. The silver-haired dragon was not typically a man of many ‘thank yous.’

“For what? Singing?

Sylus doesn’t answer immediately, staring up at the silky glow of the full moon. His normally shadowed irises glisten unusually bright under the radiance of the stars.

He’d always wanted someone to watch the moon with.

Sylus looks at you. The corners of his lips are curved in a barely-there smile, but his crimson eyes behold you such devotion that your breath catches. Deep inside the recesses of your consciousness, you can feel your soul tremble, as if being caressed by the claws of another.

“Yeah. For singing.”

–

A drop of water splashes against your cheek, shaking you out of your reverie.

You frantically wipe the tears from your cheeks away with your fingers, but the water only continues to fall.

Looking up, you realize the sunset had faded into night. In your reminiscing, clouds had overtaken the sky, crystalline raindrops starting to cascade from the heavens.

It’s…raining.

It hadn’t rained for decades in Tarus City, not since that day atop the Highest Court of Justitia.

Not until now.

♪ This world is a wasteland. ♫

You reach your hand out to catch some of the falling water in your palm, enjoying the sensation of the droplets splashing against your tepid skin.

A fleck of ebony ash drifts into your palm, the lingering orange ember fading away like a melting sunset when it meets your wet skin, tragically beautiful.

Like a body fading into crystals of midnight, getting swept up into the clouds.

♫ Don't let me go, go, go, go, go, go, go. ♪

The raindrops mix with your tears. You’re not sure how much time passes with you standing there in the rain, a mess of silent sobs. Seconds, minutes, hours, you’re not sure how long. Time seems to lose meaning as you stand there, your emotions coming out in an endless stream of tears. Eventually your eyes dry, your body dehydrated with nothing left to shed.

But the rain doesn’t show any signs of relenting.

When your bloodshot vision focusses just enough for you to regain your sight, you watch as the rainwater seems to melt away the thick layers of soot that had caked the meadow floor for decades.

The rain was pouring down like silver threads now, gathering into the streams in the depths of the meadow. The way the water trickled down the spine of the empty riverbanks almost made it seem like the valley was alive again.

You look up at the sky. Darkness had come quick, especially with the amount of rain clouds that had surfaced. There weren’t many stars visible, the twinkling lights hidden by the smog and the clouds.

But as you watch the billowing storm clouds, the wind picks up, parting the column of clouds into two, allowing the glow of the moon to illuminate through.

Your breath catches as you behold the sight of the moon. It was a full moon tonight, a halo of argent brilliance.

The same moon you’d watched together here, on that night.

You couldn't recall the last time you'd allowed yourself to gaze at the moon like this. It felt wrong–to watch the night sky without Sylus. Or maybe you were just too much of a coward.

Wherever he was, was there a moon for him to gaze up at too?

Standing here in the valley, under the bask of the moonlight, you feel closer to him than you had in a long time. There’s so much you wanted to say to him, to apologize for–to explain. But you struggle to find the words, your voice caught in your throat, drowning in unrelenting rain and inexplicable emotions.

Your heart drops when the light wanes, the moon getting swallowed up by the unending storm clouds, the moment passing as quickly as it had come.

Some words are like the moonlight hidden by the clouds. Once the moment passes, there’s no need to say them anymore.

The rainfall drizzles to a stop, leaving you a soaked and shivering mess in the creeping darkness. Though the rain has stopped, the clouds remain. They blanket the entire sky, reaching towards the valley. They trickle over the tops of the scarlet mountains, spilling down like a waterfall.

You’re about to turn to leave when another falling fleck of ash flits in front of your face, tickling your eyelashes.

You catch it in your open hand, waiting for it to dissolve into the dewiness of your palm. But it just lays there, whole and unyielding. Picking it up, you examine it carefully, before tentatively twirling it around between your fingertips.

What you thought was a fleck of ash wasn’t actually, but a midnight datura petal.

Your eyes widen in shock, cradling the fragmented bloom in your palm as if it were a newborn hatchling. Whirling around, you search for any possible signs that there could be flowering daturas in the valley. But the ground is covered in nothing but melting ash, as far as your eye can see. Surely nothing could have survived here.

But the flesh feels healthy and supple as you pinch it gently between your fingertips, as if it’d just been freshly plucked.

Wrapping your arms around your soaked and shivering body, the petal tucked in between your fingers, you look out one last time into the vast expanse of ashen scarlet hills.

Somewhere out there, there is a blooming datura. If even just one.

“Tarus City will bloom once more–as far as the eye can see.”

You let the wind carry your voice off, louder and stronger than you’d intended. The meadow listens, your words echoing into the heart of the valley.

“But only for you, Sylus.”

You bring the datura petal to your lips, pressing it tenderly there. For a second, you contemplate holding onto it. Taking it with you.

But perhaps that’d been your mistake all these years.

Holding on when you should’ve been letting go.

You unclasp your fingers, and the wind lifts the petal from your hands. As it flutters past your shoulders, there’s an inexplicable warmth that emanates from Sylus’s mark–the faint traces of the bittersweet scent of cindered blossoms tickling your nostrils.

It drifts higher, towards the call of the wild–the mountain ranges beckoning it toward them. Higher until you can barely make it out from the expanse of the twilight sky.

Higher, until it disappears beyond the cloudfall.

♪ Don't let me go. ♫

.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.

✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.

3K notes · View notes

jupiterpilgrim · 7 months ago

Text

Drown With Me

Ningning x Minji x Male Reader

word count: 10K

"I was so happy, you know?"

Her words, her tone, her expression – they’re etched in your memory...

—

Firstly: let's rewind to the moment that started it all. Or rather, the fight that started it all. But just a part of it, because the whole argument was a bit too... dramatic.

—

"You fucking asshole! I can't believe you're making me feel guilty about this trip!" Minji screams, tears streaming down her face as she throws clothes into her suitcase. Her small hands are shaking with rage.

“I just can't understand you! When I keep my shit to myself, you complain that I'm not being truthful in the relationship, and when I decide to tell you what's bothering me, you freak out. You know this promotion means everything to me, Minji, and now you're acting like I'm abandoning you," you snap back, watching her frantically pack from the doorway of your shared bedroom.

"Abandoning me? No, you're just being a selfish prick who can't be happy for his girlfriend's success!" She slams the suitcase shut, mascara running down her cheeks. "I've supported every single one of your career moves, but the one time I get a huge opportunity, you make it all about you!"

"That's not what I'm saying and you know it! I just wish you'd discussed it with me first instead of just announcing you're fucking off to Singapore for a month!"

"Discuss it? With you?" She laughs bitterly. "Why? So you could try to talk me out of it? Make me feel even more guilty?"

"Minji, come on..." You try to reach for her but she jerks away.

"Don't touch me. I can't even look at you right now." She wipes her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. "I have to go or I'll miss my flight. Don't bother calling."

You watch helplessly as she drags her suitcase out of the bedroom, the wheels thumping against the hardwood floors. The front door slams shut moments later, leaving you alone in the sudden silence of your apartment.

"Fuck!" You punch the wall, immediately regretting it as pain shoots through your knuckles.

—

She drops it on you out of nowhere, right in the middle of a forkful of pasta, like it’s just casual dinner conversation. “So I’ll be in Singapore for a month. My trip is scheduled for next week.” she says, barely looking up as she keeps eating. No heads-up, no “Hey, I was thinking…” Just lays it out there, cold as fact.

You should be happy for her. Hell, you should feel damn proud. Minji, your Minji, jetting off for a huge business trip, about to prove to everyone what you already know - that she’s amazing at what she does. But instead, there’s this weird little twist of annoyance clawing its way up from somewhere deep. It’s like you’re happy, sure, but there’s this raw, stupid irritation bubbling under it all that you didn’t see coming.

She never mentioned it before. Never talked about weighing options, asked you what you thought, nothing. Just tosses it at you like a done deal, already set in stone. And yeah, it stings a little, like she didn’t even think you’d want a say. It’s petty, it’s stupid, but it’s there, scratching around at the back of your head, whispering: am I an afterthought now?

You catch yourself, feeling like the world’s most selfish boyfriend because you know she deserves this. She’s worked herself to the bone, fought for this chance to prove herself, to show she’s worth every bit of it. Of course you want her to go, to kill it, to come back with stories of how she made the whole damn boardroom take notice. But somewhere inside, there’s still that ugly little itch, wondering - couldn’t she have acted like this was a decision for the two of you? Just… a little?

The guilt starts swirling in after that, heavier than before, sinking low and deep. What kind of boyfriend gets hung up on something so small when his girlfriend’s about to take this huge step? You want to push it down, make it disappear, go back to that exact second before she said anything, and just feel proud. Proud without all this stupid baggage.

But the feeling’s there, thick and stuck, wedged between the pride and the frustration, and there’s no easy way to get it out. So you sit there in silence, forcing yourself to nod, to smile at the right parts, while she lights up, spilling plans and ideas and everything she’s about to do. You’re trying to just let it all go, to be the guy she deserves - a guy who’s genuinely happy for her without strings, without ego. But it clings to you anyway, like some shadow you didn’t invite, and all you can do is pray it doesn’t twist into something even messier down the line.

But we know exactly how it ended.

—

Three days pass in misery, all you have is takeout containers, beer bottles, and mindless TV shows. You've texted Minji multiple times but only gotten short, cold responses. The apartment feels too big, too empty without her presence.

You're sprawled on the couch, starting your fourth beer of the evening, when there's a knock at the door. For a moment, your heart leaps thinking it might be Minji, but you know she's still in Singapore.

"Coming!" you call out, grabbing a t-shirt off the floor and pulling it on as you stumble to the door. When you open it, you find yourself face to face with Ningning, Minji's best friend.

"Wow, you look like shit," she says bluntly, pushing past you into the apartment.

Ningning has always been stunning in an almost intimidating way. Today she's wearing a tight black crop top that shows off her toned stomach and high-waisted jeans that hug every curve. Her long black hair falls in waves past her shoulders, and her dark eyes seem to see right through you.

"Nice to see you too," you mutter, closing the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Minji asked me to check on you." Ningning wrinkles her nose at the mess of bottles and takeout containers. "Good thing she did. This is pathetic."

You run a hand through your unwashed hair. "I'm fine. You can tell her I'm fine."

"Really? Because you look and smell like you haven't showered in days." She picks up an empty beer bottle, examining it. "And it seems like you're trying to drink yourself into oblivion."

"It's none of your business," you snap, snatching the bottle from her hand.

Ningning's red lips curve into a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Actually, it is my business. Minji's my best friend, and she's worried about you. Even though you're being a total dick about her trip."

"You don't know anything about it."

"I know enough." She steps closer, and you catch another whiff of her perfume. "I know you made her cry before the biggest opportunity of her career. Dick move."

The guilt and alcohol make your head spin. "I didn't mean to... I just... fuck." You sink onto the couch, head in your hands.

You feel the couch dip as Ningning sits beside you, close enough that her thigh brushes against yours. "Hey," she says, her voice softer now. "I get it. Long distance sucks. But it's only a month."

"A month feels like forever right now," you admit. The beer is definitely hitting you now, making your tongue loose. "The apartment feels wrong without her here."

"Then maybe you need a distraction." Ningning's hand lands on your thigh, and your whole body tenses. "Something to take your mind off things."

You turn to look at her, meaning to tell her to back off, but the words die in your throat. She's closer than you expected, those dark eyes boring into yours. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and you can't help tracking the movement.

"Ning..." you start, but you're not sure if it's a warning or something else.

"I always wondered what it was like to be in Minji's shoes," she murmurs, her hand sliding higher on your thigh. "Maybe now's my chance to find out.”

"We can't..." But your protest sounds weak even to your own ears. The combination of alcohol, loneliness, and Ningning's intoxicating presence is making it hard to think straight.

"Why not?" Her other hand comes up to cup your face, turning you toward her. "What Minji doesn't know won't hurt her."

Before you can respond, she closes the distance between you, pressing her lips against yours. For a moment, you're too shocked to react. Then your body takes over, responding to the first intimate contact you've had in days.

Her lips are soft but demanding, nothing like Minji's gentle kisses. When her tongue pushes into your mouth, you taste mint and something sweet. Your hands move of their own accord, gripping her waist and pulling her closer.

Ning swings one leg over your lap, straddling you. The position brings her core right against your growing erection, and she grinds down deliberately, drawing a groan from your throat.

"That's it," she purrs against your lips. "Stop thinking so much."

Her hands slip under your t-shirt, nails scraping lightly against your abs. You know you should stop this, push her away, but your body is on fire with need. When she rocks against you again, your hips buck up instinctively.

"Fuck, you're already so hard for me," Ningning breathes, pulling back to look at you with heavy-lidded eyes. "Let me take care of you."

She grinds down again, more forcefully this time, and your head falls back against the couch. "This is wrong," you manage to say, even as your hands slide down to grip her ass.

"Then why does it feel so right?" She attacks your neck with lips and teeth, sucking hard enough to leave marks. The pain-pleasure sends jolts straight to your cock.

Your hands slip under her crop top, finding bare skin. Her body is different from Minji's - more toned, with smaller breasts but wider hips. The comparison makes guilt twist in your stomach, but it's quickly drowned out by lust when Ningning bites down on your earlobe.

She pulls back just long enough to yank your t-shirt over your head, then immediately latches onto one of your nipples. The sensation makes you buck up against her again, your cock straining against your boxers.

"Someone's eager," she teases, rolling her hips in slow circles. "Want to see how wet you've made me?"

Before you can answer, she grabs one of your hands and guides it between her legs. Even through her jeans, you can feel the heat radiating from her core. When you press your fingers against her, she moans and grinds down onto your hand.

"See?" She captures your lips in another burning kiss. "I've wanted this for so long. Wanted to show you what you've been missing."

The words should be a bucket of cold water, reminding you of Minji, but instead they just fuel the fire burning through your veins. You squeeze her ass with your free hand, pulling her harder against you as you devour her mouth.

Ningning breaks the kiss to stand up suddenly, leaving you bereft of contact. But before you can protest, she's hooking her fingers into the waistband of her jeans, slowly shimming them down her legs.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of her black lace thong, barely covering anything. Her legs seem to go on forever, and when she turns around to step out of her jeans, you get a perfect view of her round ass.

"Like what you see?" she asks over her shoulder, giving her ass a little shake.

"Fuck," is all you can manage, adjusting yourself in your pants.

She turns back to face you, crossing her arms to grab the hem of her crop top. In one fluid motion, she pulls it over her head, revealing a matching black lace bra. Her breasts strain against the material, nipples clearly visible through the delicate fabric.

"Your turn," she purrs, hooking her fingers in your pants. "Up."

You lift your hips automatically, letting her pull your pants and boxers down and off. Your cock springs free, already rock hard and leaking pre-cum. Ningning licks her lips at the sight, wrapping one hand around your shaft.

"Mmm, bigger than I expected," she says, giving you a few slow strokes. "No wonder Minji always looks so satisfied."

The mention of your girlfriend's name sends another pang of guilt through you, but it's quickly forgotten when Ningning drops to her knees between your legs. She maintains eye contact as she leans forward, running her tongue from base to tip.

"Fuck!" you gasp, hands gripping the couch cushions.

"Just wait," she smirks, before taking you into her mouth.

The wet heat of her mouth is incredible. She takes you deep right away, her throat relaxing to accommodate your length. Unlike Minji's hesitant, gentle oral skills, Ningning sucks cock like she was born for it.

Her head bobs up and down, tongue swirling around your shaft. One hand works what doesn't fit in her mouth while the other massages your balls. The sight of her red lips stretched around your cock, mascara starting to smear from her watering eyes, is almost enough to make you cum right then.

You thread your fingers through her long hair, not guiding her movements but just holding on. She hums around your length, sending vibrations through your whole body. When she pulls back to focus on your tip, sucking hard while her hand works your shaft, you have to grit your teeth to hold back.

"Shit, Ning, I'm gonna cum if you keep that up," you warn her, trying to pull her off.

But she just takes you deeper, looking up at you through her lashes as she deepthroats you. The sight of your cock disappearing into her throat, combined with the intense suction, pushes you over the edge.

You cum with a shout, pumping rope after rope of hot cum down her throat. Ningning swallows it all, continuing to suck until you're completely spent and oversensitive.

When she finally pulls off with a wet pop, strings of saliva and cum connect her lips to your cock. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, looking incredibly pleased with herself.

"Tasty," she says, licking her lips. "But we're not done yet."

Before you can recover, she's standing up and reaching behind her back to unhook her bra. Her breasts bounce free, smaller than Minji's but perfectly shaped with pink nipples standing at attention.

She hooks her thumbs in her thong, slowly sliding it down her legs. Your cock twitches at the sight of her bare pussy, already glistening with arousal. She's completely shaved, her pink lips puffy and inviting.

"See how wet sucking your cock got me?" She runs a finger through her folds, gathering her juices before bringing it to her mouth to suck clean. "I bet you want to taste me."

You nod dumbly, reaching for her, but she pushes you back against the couch. "Uh uh, just sit back and enjoy."

She climbs back onto your lap, but this time facing away from you. The position gives you a perfect view as she reaches between her legs to guide your semi-hard cock to her entrance.

"Ready for round two?" she asks, rubbing your tip against her wet slit.

Before you can answer, she sinks down onto you in one smooth motion. You both groan at the sensation - she's incredibly tight, her walls gripping you like a vice as she takes you to the hilt.

"Fuck, you're so big," she moans, grinding her hips in small circles. "Stretching me so good."

Your hands find her hips as she starts to move, lifting herself up before dropping back down. The sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy, her ass bouncing against your thighs, has you fully hard again in no time.

Ningning sets a brutal pace, riding you hard and fast. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with her increasingly loud moans. She reaches back to brace herself on your shoulders, changing the angle so your cock hits deeper.

"Yes, yes, fuck me!" she cries out, her pussy clenching around you. "Harder!"

You plant your feet firmly on the ground and start thrusting up to meet her bounces. The new force has her screaming, her nails digging into your shoulders as she takes everything you give her.

One of your hands slides around to rub her clit, and she nearly convulses at the touch. Her walls flutter around your cock as she gets closer to the edge.

"Gonna cum," she pants, movements becoming erratic. "Make me cum on your big cock!"

You increase the pressure on her clit, rubbing tight circles as you continue to thrust up into her. When she finally breaks, her whole body goes rigid, pussy clamping down on you like a vice as she screams your name.

The sight and sensation of her cumming triggers your own orgasm. You grip her hips hard enough to bruise as you empty yourself inside her, filling her pussy with hot cum.

Ningning collapses back against your chest, both of you breathing heavily. Your softening cock is still inside her, and you can feel your combined fluids leaking out around it.

"Holy fuck," she says after a moment, turning her head to kiss you lazily. "That was even better than I imagined."

Reality starts to creep back in as the post-orgasm haze fades.

You just cheated on Minji.

With her best friend.

On the couch where you and Minji usually cuddle and watch movies.

"We shouldn't have done that," you say, but make no move to push her off.

"But we did." Ningning stands up, cum running down her thighs. The sight makes your spent cock twitch. "And we're going to do it again."

She gathers her clothes and heads to the bathroom, leaving you alone with your guilt and confusion.

What the fuck have you done?

—

The next few days are a sickening mix of shame, guilt and lust, oh, and more incredible sex than you've ever had. Ningning comes over almost every day. You fuck on every surface of the apartment - the kitchen counter, the shower, the dining room table.

She's insatiable, always wanting more, always pushing your boundaries. She makes you do things you've never done before, things you never even considered with Minji.

After that sixth time, with both of you tangled up, tipsy and reckless, she watches as you crumble, phone in hand after hearing Minji’s voice. Tears slip down your face as the reality hits hard. You and Minji talk, stumbling through apologies and whispered promises, mending the torn edges between you. By the end, you’re clear: Ningning won’t be coming around again.

When you tell Ningning, she just smirks, as if it were a joke that only she understands. "You’re drunk," she says. "You'll change your mind. We're the same, you and me." Her words dig in, and Ningning knows that you have no way of proving her wrong. So you just grit your teeth and ask her to leave.

She does. But that smile lingers as she goes, certain she’s right.

Oh, and she is.

—

You're sitting on your couch scrolling mindlessly through your phone when you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you freeze at the sight before you. Ningning stands there in a tight white button-up shirt tied above her belly button, red tie, an obscenely short plaid skirt that barely covers her ass, white knee socks, and her black hair in pigtails. Your cock instantly stirs as memories of buying this exact outfit for Minji flood back.

"Like what you see?" Ningning purrs, doing a little twirl that makes her skirt flare up. You catch a glimpse of tiny white panties underneath.

"Ning, how in the world did you get here dressed like that?" You try to keep your voice steady but fail miserably. "We can't keep doing this."

She pushes past you into the apartment, her perfume - sweet and intoxicating - filling your nostrils. "Why not? Minji's gone on her work trip, isn't she? The one she didn't even discuss with you first?"

Your jaw clenches at the reminder. Ningning knows exactly which buttons to push. She saunters over to your couch, deliberately swaying her hips. When she bends over to adjust her sock, her skirt rides up to reveal the full curve of her ass.

"Remember how you bought this exact outfit for Minji?" she continues, straightening up and facing you. "How she said roleplaying made her uncomfortable?" Ningning runs her hands down her body. "Yeah, she tells me everything and, well, I'm here to fulfill your fantasy."

"This is wrong," you protest weakly, but your eyes are glued to her body. "You're her best friend..."

"And you're her boyfriend who she takes for granted," Ningning counters, stepping closer. "When's the last time she really fucked you properly? Made you lose control?"

Your breathing grows heavy as she closes the distance between you. Her small hand traces down your chest, over your stomach, to cup your hardening cock through your pants.

"Mmm, someone's excited," she giggles. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is fighting it."

"Ning..." you groan as she squeezes gently.

"Want to be my teacher?" she whispers, looking up at you through thick lashes. "I've been such a naughty student..."

Your resistance crumbles as she drops to her knees, quickly undoing your belt and zipper. Your cock springs free, already rock hard. Ningning licks her lips.

“Your dick is too good to be unusable for a whole month," she purrs, wrapping her small hand around your shaft. "Minji was very irresponsible this time."

The mention of your girlfriend sends wave of guilt through you, but it's quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as Ningning's hot mouth engulfs your cock. She takes you deep, deeper than Minji ever has, until her nose is pressed against your pelvis.

"Fuck!" you grunt, hands instinctively grabbing her pigtails. She moans around your length, the vibrations making your knees weak.

Ningning pulls back with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to your cock. "Use my mouth," she begs. "Fuck my throat like you've always wanted to fuck hers."

You know you should stop this. Push her away. Call Minji and confess everything. But instead, you grip Ningning's pigtails tightly, using them like handlebars as you thrust deep into her willing mouth. Her throat bulges visibly each time you push in, the outline of your thick shaft visible through her delicate neck.

"Fuck, you really know how to take it," you groan, watching her glossy lips stretch around your girth. Unlike Minji, who always struggles past the halfway point, Ningning swallows your entire length without hesitation.

She looks up at you with watery eyes, mascara already starting to run down her cheeks. The sight of her in the schoolgirl outfit, on her knees, throat stuffed with your cock, is almost too much to handle.

"You like that, don't you?" you growl, pulling her pigtails to force her deeper. "Like being a better cocksucker than your best friend?"

She moans around your shaft, the vibrations making your cock throb. Drool runs down her chin as she gags slightly, but she doesn't try to pull back. Instead, she grabs your thighs and pulls herself even closer.

"Such a hungry little slut," you praise, starting to thrust into her mouth. "Taking my cock deeper than Minji ever could..."

Ningning's eyes roll back as you fuck her face, her throat relaxing to accommodate your full length. Every time you pull back, a string of thick saliva connects her lips to your cock.

"Is this what you imagined?" you ask, increasing your pace. "All those times Minji complained about not being able to deepthroat me... were you thinking about showing her how it's done?"

She tries to nod with your cock still buried in her throat, making herself gag. The sound only encourages you to thrust harder, using her pigtails to control the depth and speed.

Your balls slap against her chin with each stroke now, adding to the obscene symphony of gagging and slurping sounds. Her makeup is completely ruined, black streaks running down her face as tears flow freely.

"Such a good little throat slut," you groan, holding her head still as you fuck into her mouth. "Taking every inch like you were made for it..."

She reaches up to massage your balls while you use her throat, encouraging you to go harder, faster, deeper. The contrast with Minji's careful, hesitant blowjobs is stark - Ningning truly loves having her face fucked.

"Bet you practiced for this," you continue, watching her throat bulge. "Bet you've been using toys for months, just waiting for this moment..."

A particularly hard thrust makes her gag violently, but still she doesn't pull away. If anything, she pushes forward, burying her nose in your pubic hair as she swallows around your length.

The sight of her taking your cock so eagerly, combined with the tight squeeze of her throat, brings you dangerously close to cumming. But you're not done using her mouth yet.

You pull out completely, letting her catch her breath. Strings of thick saliva connect her swollen lips to your cock as she gasps for air.

"Please," she begs, voice hoarse from the throat fucking. "Use my mouth... wreck my throat... show me what Minji's too scared to take..."

You slam back in without warning, making her eyes go wide as you bottom out in her throat. Her nose presses against your pelvis as you hold her there, feeling her throat contract around your shaft.

"Fuck, you're such a good cocksucker," you groan, slowly withdrawing before thrusting deep again. "Taking my cock like a proper slut..."

She moans around your length, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge. Her hands grip your thighs tighter, encouraging you to use her mouth however you want.

Your pace becomes brutal as you chase your orgasm, fucking her face with abandon. The wet sounds of your cock plunging into her throat fill the room, along with her muffled moans and gagging.

"Gonna cum," you warn, pulling her pigtails harder. "Gonna flood your throat with my load..."

She looks up at you with pleading eyes, silently begging for your cum. The sight of her - face a mess, throat bulging, schoolgirl outfit disheveled - pushes you over the edge.

With a final thrust, you bury yourself to the hilt in her throat and explode. She swallows eagerly around your pulsing cock, drinking down every drop of cum as you pump it directly into her throat.

Only when the last spurt has been swallowed do you slowly withdraw, watching as she gasps for air. Her lips are swollen and red, face covered in smeared makeup and saliva.

She couldn't be more beautiful.

"Thank you," she rasps, voice wrecked from the throat fucking. "For showing me what a real face fucking feels like..."

“Damn... That was amazing... You were amazing.”

"All for you, baby," she says hoarsely, standing up. "But now it's my turn to have some fun." She unbuttons her shirt slowly, revealing a lacy white bra underneath.

Ningning sits on the couch, looking at you, sliding her hands along her thighs, waiting for you to touch her.

You approach Ningning, your fingers hover at her entrance, teasing through her slick folds. She's already dripping wet, her pussy lips swollen and flushed pink. You can smell her arousal.

"Mmm, stop being such a tease," Ningning whimpers, spreading her legs wider. Her tiny white panties are soaked through, a dark wet patch visible in the center. "I need those thick fingers inside me..."

You trace light circles around her clit through the thin fabric, making her squirm. "Patience," you murmur. "Good girls wait for what they want."

"But I'm not a good girl," she purrs, grinding against your hand. "I'm the kind of girl who seduces her best friend's boyfriend while wearing a schoolgirl outfit..."

The reminder of what you're doing - who you're touching - sends a fresh wave of guilt through you. But it's mixed with an undeniable surge of arousal that makes your head spin.

You hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, dragging them down her smooth legs torturously slow. She kicks them off impatiently, spreading herself open with both hands to give you a perfect view of her pussy.

"Look how wet I am for you," she breathes, running a finger through her folds. "I've been dripping since I put this outfit on, thinking about how I was going to make you lose control..."

You replace her finger with yours, sliding through her wetness. Her clit is hard and swollen, begging for attention. You circle it slowly, barely touching, making her hips buck seeking more pressure.

"Fuck, your fingers feel amazing," she moans. "Minji told me they would..."

Your cock throbs at her words. "What else did she tell you?"

"Mmm, everything," Ningning says with a wicked smile. "All those late night girl talks, sharing secrets about our sex lives... She loves bragging about how good you are with your hands..."

You push one finger inside her slowly, groaning at how tight she is. Her inner walls grip you like a vice as you start pumping in and out.

"She told me how you can make her cum just from fingering her," Ningning continues, rolling her hips to meet your thrusts. "How sometimes you have to hold her down because it gets so intense..."

Adding a second finger, you stretch her tight hole while curling them to search for that special spot.

When you find it, her whole body jerks.

"FUCK!" she cries out, grabbing your wrist. "Right there! Harder!"

You massage that spot relentlessly, watching her face contort in pleasure. Her small tits bounce with each thrust of your hand, nipples hard and visible through her thin bra.

"Know what else she told me?" Ningning pants between moans. "That sometimes- oh god! Sometimes you make her squirt... but she gets embarrassed... tries to hold it back..."

You add a third finger, stretching her even more. Your thumb finds her clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud while your fingers work that spot inside her.

"I'm not shy like her," she continues, voice getting higher as pleasure builds. "I want to soak your whole fucking hand... want to show you what you're missing with her..."

Her pussy gets wetter with each thrust, juices running down your wrist and dripping onto the floor. The obscene squelching sounds fill the room as you finger-fuck her mercilessly.

"She also told me about your schoolgirl fantasy," Ningning moans. "How you bought her this exact outfit... but she was too vanilla to wear it... said roleplaying made her uncomfortable..."

Your fingers pump faster at her words, thumb working her clit harder. She's so wet now, practically gushing around your fingers.

"But look at me," she purrs. "Wearing exactly what you wanted... letting you do exactly what you've been dreaming about... being exactly the dirty little slut you need..."

Her words drive you wild. You curl your fingers more aggressively, massaging her g-spot while your thumb rubs quick circles on her clit. Her thighs start trembling as she gets close.

"That's it," she encourages. "Make me cum like you make her cum... show me why she brags about those fingers..."

You can feel her pussy starting to contract around your fingers. Ningning pulls the bra off in one go, breaking the strap. She's close, so close. You lean down and take one of her nipples in your mouth, sucking hard while your hand works between her legs.

"Oh fuck!" she screams. "Right there, don't stop, gonna cum gonna cum gonna-"

Her whole body goes rigid as the orgasm hits. Her pussy clamps down on your fingers like a vice, gushing fluid all over your hand. But you don't stop - you keep going, working her through it as she writhes and moans.

"Don't stop don't stop don't stop!" she chants, riding your hand desperately. More fluid gushes out with each thrust, soaking your arm and the couch beneath her.

Just when you think she's done, another wave hits. Her thighs clamp around your wrist as she squirts again, spraying her release all over you. The sight of your girlfriend's best friend coming undone on your fingers is the hottest thing you've ever seen.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" she screams, grinding against your hand as a third orgasm builds immediately after the second. Her whole body is shaking now, covered in a light sheen of sweat that makes her skin glow.

You keep going, relentless in your assault on her g-spot while your thumb continues its torture on her oversensitive clit. She's babbling incoherently now, lost in pleasure.

"Too much!" she finally gasps, trying to close her legs. But you hold them open with your free hand, not letting her escape the stimulation.

"I thought you weren't shy?" you tease, curling your fingers harder inside her. "I thought you could take what Minji couldn't?"

Those words seem to trigger something in her. Her eyes roll back as another orgasm crashes through her, this one even more intense than the others. She squirts so hard it sprays up your chest, soaking your shirt.

Only when she begs you to stop, you slowly withdraw your soaked fingers. She grabs your wrist before you can pull away completely, bringing your fingers to her mouth.

Looking directly into your eyes, she sucks them clean one by one, moaning at her own taste. Her tongue swirls around each digit, making sure to get every drop.

"Mmm," she purrs after releasing them with a obscene pop. "I taste good on your fingers,” she pants, pulling you up, “but I bet I taste even better on your cock..."

These words are enough to make you sit on the couch, Ningning jumps on your cock with desperate abandon, she adjusts herself on your lap and you feel the warm and delicious grip of her tight pussy. Her schoolgirl skirt fans out around her hips as she rides you, the pleated fabric barely hiding where your bodies join.

"Fuck, you're so big, I bet you need to be careful not to hurt Minji's pussy with that thick cock," she moans, grinding her hips in circles.

And it's true.

Each time you’re with Minji, that balance between careful tenderness and locked-up heat tears at you. And somehow, the comparison between the careful sex you have with Minji and the raw sex you're having now makes your cock throb harder inside her tight hole. Ningning notices, clenching her pussy walls around you.

"Does it turn you on?" she purrs, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. "Knowing you're stretching her best friend's pussy? Filling me up while she's working?"

You grab her hips harder, helping her bounce faster on your shaft. Her small tits bounce with each movement, nipples hard and visible through her thin white shirt. The whole schoolgirl outfit is disheveled now - tie loose, shirt unbuttoned, skirt hiked up around her waist.

"God, you feel so good," she pants, throwing her head back. "So much better than I dreamed about all those nights touching myself..."

Your cock twitches at her words. "You touched yourself thinking about me?"

"Mmhmm," she moans, grinding down harder. "Every time Minji bragged about your cock, I'd go home and finger myself imagining it was you... imagining you choosing me instead of her..."

She starts bouncing faster, her tight pussy taking your full length with each stroke. The wet sounds of her arousal fill the room, along with the slap of skin on skin.

"But the real thing is so much better," she continues, voice getting higher with pleasure. "Your thick cock stretching me open... making me take every inch..."

You can feel yourself getting close, the familiar pressure building in your balls. But you try to hold back, not ready for this to end.

"I can feel you throbbing," she teases, clenching her walls around you again. "Are you going to cum for me? Going to fill up my tight little pussy?"

The thought of cumming inside her makes your cock pulse dangerously. You know this shouldn't be happening, but her pussy feels too good, gripping you like it never wants to let go.

"Do it," she encourages, bouncing even faster. "Cum inside me. Give me what you give her..."

Your hands tighten on her hips as you get closer to the edge. She's riding you like her life depends on it now, taking your cock so deep you can feel her cervix with each stroke.

"One time when Minji was drunk and loose, she told me that you love creampie," she suddenly whispers, and your cock throbs hard at the admission. "Minji mentioned you have a breeding kink... that you love the risk..."

You try to lift her off your cock but she pushes back down hard, taking you to the hilt. "Don't you dare pull out," she demands. "I want to feel you flood my fertile pussy..."

The pressure in your balls is almost unbearable now. Every bounce of her tight pussy brings you closer to the edge. Your cock swells even larger inside her as your orgasm approaches.

"That's it," she moans, feeling you grow. "Give me your cum. Breed me like you want to breed her..."

With a groan, you explode inside her. Your cock pulses violently, shooting rope after rope of hot cum deep in her unprotected pussy. She keeps riding through your orgasm, milking every drop from your throbbing shaft.

"Fuck yes!" she cries out, grinding down hard as you fill her. "I can feel you pumping me full... marking me as yours..."

Only when the last spurt of cum coats her walls does she slow her movements. She stays seated on your cock, clenching her pussy to keep your seed inside her.

"Mmm, perfect," she purrs, leaning forward to kiss you deeply. "Now I'm going to keep your cum warm in my pussy all day... let it soak into my fertile womb..."

You can feel the tension in the air, a twisted mix of possessive satisfaction and something darker, something that feels dangerously close to obsession.

You give a low chuckle, tightening your hold on her hips. "About that," you murmur, watching her expression shift as the words sink in. "You do know I had a vasectomy, right?"

For a moment, she just blinks at you, her lips parting as the realization hits. "What?" Her voice is sharp, barely above a whisper, her brows knitting together in visible confusion.

"Yeah. Minji was the one who asked for it," you continue, watching every flicker of emotion on her face. "She said she wouldn’t let me come inside her unless I did.”

“B-but I thought that… The breeding kink…”

“Yeah, I like it, but you know Minji would never go for it. Well, maybe in the future... But at least I can cum inside her now, so that's a win.”

She bites her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. Eyes narrowing, and, for a second, there is an almost obsessive tone in her voice. “So, you’re telling me… this whole time, all of this,” she gestures to herself, still seated on you, your cum mixed with her juices already leaking down her sweaty thighs, “has been for nothing?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. "Were you actually trying to get pregnant?"

Ningning’s cheeks flush, and she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Pfft, no way. I'm not crazy! That was just dirty talk to turn you on. I’m not even in my fertile period,” she says, her voice forcedly nonchalant.

You arch a brow, skeptical. Her gaze wavers for a split second, and a strange feeling knots in your gut. For the first time, you notice that hint of danger in her gaze, something deeper and darker… or maybe it's just the image of your adultery reflected in her eyes.

—

Three weeks into Minji's trip, you're lying in bed with Ningning, both covered in sweat from another intense session. She's tracing patterns on your chest with her fingernail, occasionally leaning up to kiss your neck.

"I don't want this to end when she comes back," she says suddenly, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you.

"Ning..." you start, but she cuts you off with a kiss.

"Don't give me that bullshit about how wrong this is," she says against your lips. "We both know this is more than just fucking."

"What do you want me to do?" you ask, running your hand down her naked back.

"Break up with her." Ningning's voice is firm, no room for argument. "End it as soon as she gets back."

"I can't do that to her," you protest weakly. "I… I'm still in love with her. My feelings for Minji haven't changed… She doesn't deserve-"

"What she doesn't deserve is a boyfriend who's fucking her best friend behind her back!" Ningning cuts in. "Either you tell her, or I will."

The threat hangs in the air between you. You know she means it - Ningning has never been one to make empty threats.

"You'd really do that to her?" you ask, though you already know the answer.

"I'd be doing her a favor." Ningning sits up, the sheet falling away to reveal her naked body. "Better she finds out now than after you've wasted more of her time."

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes on the nightstand. It's Minji's mother, and your blood runs cold when you see the message.

"Minji's in the hospital," you read aloud, sitting up quickly. "She collapsed during a meeting. They think it might be her heart condition acting up again."

Ningning's expression doesn't change, but her eyes harden slightly. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I don't know. Her mom says they're running tests." You're already getting out of bed, looking for your clothes. "I need to call her."

"Of course you do," Ningning says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Run back to her like always."

You ignore her as you pull on your pants and grab your phone. Minji answers on the second ring, her voice weak but happy to hear from you.

"Hey baby," she says, and your guilt threatens to choke you. "Don't worry, I'm okay. Just pushed myself too hard."

"What happened? What are the doctors saying?" You pace the room as you talk, very aware of Ningning watching you from the bed.

"They want to keep me here for observation for a few days." She sounds tired. "But I should still be able to come home on schedule next week."

"That's good," you say, though your stomach churns at the thought. "Just focus on getting better, okay?"

"I miss you so much," she says softly. "I can't wait to come home and just be with you. Maybe we can finally start talking about getting married like we always planned."

The words hit you like a physical blow. Behind you, you hear Ningning scoff quietly.

"Yeah, maybe," you manage to say. "Get some rest, okay? I love you."

Those beautiful words seem to have a sarcastic connotation coming from you now, reality seems to make sense again, your mind being taken over by reason, so logical and obvious, and with it, all you can think is: I ruined everything. After you hang up, you turn to find Ningning already dressed, gathering her things.

"Well, this should be interesting," she says with a cruel smile. "What are you going to do now? Marry her while fucking me on the side?"

"This has to stop," you say, running a hand through your hair. "She needs me right now."

"No, what she needs is the truth." Ningning steps close to you, running a hand down your chest. "When she comes back you will tell her everything or I will. And trust me, my version won't be kind."

She leaves you standing there, torn between desire and guilt, love and lust.

—

The next few days are torture. Minji calls or texts constantly from the hospital, full of love and plans for the future. Meanwhile, Ningning sends you increasingly explicit photos and videos, reminding you of what you'll be missing. And when you ignore everything she sends you: that's when the threats come back. Roughly speaking, it's like she has a double-edged sword, cutting you with both lust and guilt.

But you try to stay away from Ningning, to focus on being there for Minji, but it's like she has a sixth sense for when you're at your weakest…

The knock at your door comes just after midnight. You're lying in bed, unable to sleep, thoughts of Minji in that hospital bed haunting you. When you open the door, Ningning stands there in a trench coat, red lipstick perfectly applied, dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Miss me?" she purrs, letting the coat fall open. Black lace barely covers her tits, the lingerie leaving nothing to imagination. Your cock instantly hardens despite your best efforts to resist.

"You need to fucking leave," you growl, but your eyes are glued to her body. She knows she has you.

"Make me," she challenges, stepping closer. Her perfume fills your nostrils - sweet and spicy, nothing like Minji's soft floral scent. "We both know you want this."

"I hate you," you snarl, grabbing her arm and yanking her inside. The door slams behind her.

"Show me how much," she taunts, shrugging off the coat completely. The lingerie is even more revealing than you thought - just scraps of black lace held together by thin straps. Her nipples peek through the sheer fabric.

You grab her throat, pushing her against the wall. "You're a fucking terrible friend. Minji trusts you."

"And yet here you are, getting hard just looking at me." Her hand cups your erection through your sweatpants. "Face it - you like that I'm bad. That I'm nothing like sweet, innocent Minji."

"Shut up," you growl, crushing your mouth to hers. She tastes like cherry lipstick and sin. Her tongue battles yours as she grinds against your hardness.

You bite her lower lip hard enough to hurt. She moans into your mouth, fingernails raking down your chest. Unlike Minji's gentle touches, Ningning wants to mark you, to leave evidence of what you've done.

"Fucking slut," you mutter, ripping the flimsy bra. Her tits spill free, nipples hard and begging to be bitten. You grab them roughly, pinching and twisting until she gasps.

"Yes, hurt me," she pants. "Do all the dirty things she won't let you do."

The reminder of Minji makes you even angrier. You spin Ningning around, shoving her face-first against the wall. One hand tangles in her long dark hair, yanking her head back.

"Is this what you wanted? To be my dirty little whore?" Your free hand comes down hard on her ass, the smack echoing through the room.

"Fuck yes!" She pushes back against you. "Spank me harder. Leave marks."

You rain blows on her ass until it's bright red, each strike punctuated by her moans of pleasure-pain. Your cock throbs painfully, straining against your sweats.

"Look at you, getting wet from being spanked." You rip her panties down, fingers finding her dripping pussy. "Such a filthy slut."

"Only for you," she purrs, spreading her legs wider. "Minji told me how gentle you are with her. But that's not what you really want, is it?"

"Don't talk about her." You thrust two fingers into her roughly, making her cry out. Her pussy clenches around them, cream coating your hand.

"Why not? She tells me everything about your sex life." Ningning rocks back on your fingers. "How you always ask to cum on her face but she won't let you. How you hold back because you're afraid of being too rough."

Rage and lust war inside you. You withdraw your fingers and shove them in her mouth. "Taste yourself, whore."

She sucks them clean eagerly, moaning around them. When you pull them out, spit trails from her lips.

"On your knees," you order, shoving her down. She goes willingly, looking up at you with those dark, knowing eyes.

You free your cock, slapping it against her cheek. Pre-cum smears across her skin. "This what you came for?"

"Mmm, I love choking on your cock." She licks the head teasingly. "She says you're so careful with her mouth, afraid of going too deep."

You grab her hair with both hands, ramming your cock down her throat. She takes it like a pro, nose pressed against your pelvis, throat contracting around you.

"Fuck, you really are a whore." You hold her there until she gags, tears streaming down her face. When you finally let her breathe, she gasps but immediately opens wide for more.

"Use my throat," she rasps. "Make me choke on it."

You fuck her face brutally, hips snapping forward as you force your cock deeper with each thrust. Spit and pre-cum drip down her chin, mascara running from her tears. She maintains eye contact the whole time, those dark eyes challenging you to go harder.

When you pull out, she's a mess - lipstick smeared, face covered in her own saliva. Your cock twitches at the sight.

"Get on the couch," you command. "Hands and knees."

She crawls there slowly while taking off her high heels, making sure you get a good view of her red ass and dripping pussy. Once in position, she looks back at you with a smirk.

"Going to fuck me like you wish you could fuck her?"

You answer with action, lining up and slamming into her in one brutal thrust. She screams, back arching as you bottom out.

"I wanna hear you scream," you growl, setting a punishing pace. The sound of skin slapping skin fills the room.

"Yes, yes! Wreck my pussy!" She pushes back to meet each thrust, tits swaying beneath her.

You grab her hair again, pulling her head back as you pound into her. Your other hand comes down hard on her ass, leaving fresh handprints.

"Such a fucking whore, seducing your best friend's man." You slam in deeper, making her whole body jerk. "Bet you planned this from the start."

"Maybe," she pants. "Or maybe- fuck! - Maybe I just knew you needed someone who could handle all this."

You respond by fucking her harder, angling your hips to hit that spot that makes her walls clench around you. Her moans get higher, more desperate.

"That's it, make me cum on your cock!" She reaches between her legs to rub her clit. "Show me why Minji keeps you around!"

The mention of Minji's name sends fresh anger through you. You pull out suddenly, flipping her onto her back. Before she can protest, you're back inside her, pinning her wrists above her head.

"I said don't fucking talk about her." You bite her neck hard enough to leave marks, sucking bruises into her skin.

"Make me stop," she challenges, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you deeper.

You release her wrists to grab her throat instead, squeezing just enough to make her gasp. Her pussy gets even wetter, cream coating your cock as you rail her.

"Is this what you wanted? To be choked while I fuck you senseless?" Your thumb presses against her windpipe.

She can only nod, eyes rolling back as her first orgasm hits. Her whole body convulses, pussy spasming around your length.

You don't slow down, fucking her through her climax and beyond. She claws at your back, leaving long red scratches that sting deliciously.

"More," she demands when she can speak again. "I want it all."

You pull out, cock glistening with her juices. "Get that ass in the air."

She quickly flips over, face down and ass up, reaching back to spread her cheeks. Her asshole winks at you invitingly.

"Another thing she won't let you do," Ningning taunts. "But I love it up the ass."

You gather her wetness on your fingers, working them into her tight hole. She moans wantonly as you stretch her.

"Dirty fucking slut," you growl, adding more fingers. "Taking it in all your holes like a proper whore."

When she's ready, you line up your cock with her asshole and push in slowly. The tight heat makes you groan despite yourself.

"Fuck yes, stretch my ass!" She pushes back, taking more of you. "Fill me up!"

You grab her hips, digging your fingers in hard enough to bruise as you bottom out. Her ass grips your cock like a vice.

"I'm gonna sink my cock in that tight little ass." You start thrusting, each movement making her moan.

"God yes! Harder!" She reaches back to spread herself wider. "Use me like the whore I am!"

You pick up speed, watching your cock disappear into her ass over and over. The sight is intoxicating - this perfect little slut taking everything you give her.

Her hand moves between her legs again, fingering her dripping pussy as you fuck her ass. The double stimulation has her trembling, approaching another orgasm.

"That's it, play with that wet cunt while I wreck your ass." You spank her again, leaving more red marks. "Show me what a filthy slut you are."

"So close," she pants. "Fuck, your cock feels so good in my ass!"

You reach around to pinch her nipples, twisting them roughly. That pushes her over the edge - she screams as she cums, whole body shaking.

Her ass clenches rhythmically around your cock, nearly making you lose control. But you're not done with her yet.

You pull out of her ass, flipping her over again. "Open that pretty mouth, whore. Time to taste your ass."

She eagerly takes your cock between her lips, moaning at her own taste. You fuck her face again, slower this time, letting her tongue work over every inch.

"Such a good little cocksucker," you grunt. "Born to take dick in all your holes."

She hums in agreement, reaching up to fondle your balls. The vibrations send pleasure shooting through you.

You pull out before you get too close. "On your back again. Want to see those tits bounce while I fuck you."

She spreads her legs wide as you mount her again, sliding back into her pussy. It's even tighter now after her orgasms, gripping you with a new creamy softness.

"Fuck me raw," she demands. "Make me feel it for days."

You grab her legs, pushing them back until her knees are by her ears. The new angle lets you go even deeper, your balls slapping against her ass with each thrust.

"Gonna fill this pussy up."

"No," she pants. "Want you to cum on my face. Paint me with your load like you've always wanted."

The thought pushes you closer to the edge. You've fantasized about this countless times - covering a pretty face with your cum.

Your thrusts become erratic as you near your peak. Ningning notices and grins up at you.

"Do it," she urges. "Show me what Minji's missing."

You pull out just in time, straddling her chest as she opens her mouth wide. Your cock erupts, shooting thick ropes of cum across her face.

She moans as you paint her, cum landing on her cheeks, lips, forehead. Some gets in her hair, more drips down her chin.

"Fuck yes," she purrs, licking what she can reach. "Mark your territory."

You keep jerking off to failure while admiring your beautiful work of art. Her face is completely covered in your cum, makeup ruined, lips swollen from sucking your cock.

"Fuck yeah," she growls, slurping up every fucking drop she can get her tongue on. “You came so much all over my face, baby."

"Look at you, you filthy little cumdumpster," you grunt, using your cock to spread the cum all over her face like a paintbrush. "Fucking beautiful.”

She looks up at you, a wicked grin on her cum-covered face. "Minji would never let you do this to her, would she?" she taunts, licking the remnants of your orgasm off her lips.

You keep spreading your cum, avoiding her gaze, the guilt gnawing at you. She grabs your wrist, stopping your movements. "Tell me I'm better than her," she demands, pulling your cock back to her mouth, licking the sensitive head.

"Don't fucking say that," you mutter, trying to pull away, but she holds firm.

"Tell me!" she insists, taking your cock deeper into her mouth, sucking hard.

You finally yank your cock away, getting off her abruptly. "No," you say firmly. There's a heavy silence as you pull on your pants and walk to the apartment door to open it and grab the coat she left in the hallway. "Get out!” you exclaim, throwing the coat at her.

“May I clean myself first, sir?”

When she comes out of the bathroom, you're a little calmer.

In fact, you're fucking tired.

“Why are you doing this to her?” you ask, the frustration spilling over, sharp and bitter. “She’s your best friend. Doesn’t any of this mean a damn thing to you?”

Ningning slowly sits on the couch to put on her high heels, taking her time. "Best friend?” she scoffs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Minji’s no friend of mine. Hasn’t been for a long time. You think she even cares?”

You frown, trying to make sense of this mess. “You two were inseparable-”

“Were,” she interrupts, voice cold and dismissive. “Until she swooped in and took you right out of my hands.” Her eyes narrow, and she lets out a bitter laugh. “Do you even remember how we met? How I was the one who introduced you to her?”

You do remember, vaguely, those early nights working late at the bar, Ningning hanging around, laughing too loud, leaning a little too close. And then she’d brought Minji along one night, saying something about “my best friend, you’ll love her.” And you had, instantly.

She watches realization dawn across your face, her smirk deepening. “Yeah, that’s right. I brought her to meet you. She saw me with you and knew exactly what she was doing.” Her voice drops, bitter. “She knew I liked you. And then she went and did what she always does - takes what she wants without a damn thought about anyone else.”

You shake your head, but doubt nags at the edges of your mind. “She couldn’t have known-”

“She knew,” Ningning hisses, stepping toward you, her gaze fierce. “She fucking knew! But that’s Minji, isn’t it? Perfect little Minji, the one who can do no wrong. Sweet, innocent, perfect, while the rest of us scrape for her leftovers.” Her laugh is harsh, cold. “But guess what? She doesn’t get everything. Not anymore.”

The bitterness in her voice grates against you, hitting nerves you didn’t know you had. “You could’ve just told her,” you say quietly. “All of this - the stab in the back, the lies - none of it would’ve happened if you’d just been honest.”

She rolls her eyes. “You really think she’d care? Even if I had told her, she wouldn’t have given a fuck. She’s never cared about me. I was just someone to make her look better, someone to stand in her shadow.” Her voice drips with scorn. “She’s never really seen me.”

“So this is what, revenge?” you demand, voice hard. “Just because she didn’t fall over herself to make you feel special?”

She gives you a slow, dark smile, filled with satisfaction and anger. “Call it whatever you want. But you’re here, aren’t you? And every time you touch me, she loses a little more of that shiny perfect life of hers.”

"You're just a spiteful bitch. You don't deserve Minji's friendship.”

She steps closer, running a hand down your chest, voice low, almost a whisper. “And what does that make you? Huh? Besides a lying, cheating asshole? Minji’s so delicate, so breakable… shouldn’t you be taking care of her instead of - well - fucking me?”

You push Ningning away abruptly and point to the door. “Get out of my sight!”

When the door clicks shut, you glance back at the couch - a disaster of tangled sheets, a pillow on the floor, the lingering scent of sweat and regret. That couch… the same one where Minji used to kneel between your legs, her soft hands trailing up your thighs, her sweet, shy giggles filling the air whenever you teased her.

—

You stand anxiously at the airport arrivals gate, your heart pounding as you wait to see Minji again after a month apart. Your hands are sweaty and trembling - not just from excitement to reunite with your girlfriend, but from the crushing weight of guilt pressing down on you. The past few weeks have been a living hell of secrets, lies and desperate late-night encounters that you know will destroy everything if they come to light.

Finally you spot her emerging through the sliding doors, pulling her pink carry-on suitcase. Despite being sick during her trip, she looks beautiful as ever in her oversized cream sweater and blue jeans. Her face lights up when she sees you and she runs forward, throwing herself into your arms.

"I missed you so much!" she exclaims, pressing her face into your chest. You hold her tight, breathing in her familiar sweet scent, trying to push away the intrusive thoughts of all the times you've betrayed her trust.

"I missed you too, baby," you say, and it's not a lie. You've ached for her every single day she's been gone.

Which makes what you've done even more fucked up.

On the drive home, Minji chatters excitedly about her trip, though you can tell she's tired from the long flight. She mentions feeling weak and dizzy a few times while traveling, which worried her given her heart condition. You listen and nod, but your mind keeps drifting to Ningning's latest threatening text:

"Time's running out..."

—

At home you're helping Minji with her suitcase, trying to act normal while your heart pounds with a mix of desire and crushing guilt. Her delicate frame moves gracefully as she organizes her clothes, and you can't help but stare at her perfect ass in those tight jeans. The same ass you've missed so fucking much this past month.

"I really missed you, baby," she says softly, turning to face you with those innocent eyes that make your stomach twist with shame. Before you can respond, she's in your arms, her soft lips pressing urgently against yours. The familiar taste of her cherry lip gloss floods your senses.

Her tongue slides into your mouth as her hands grip your shoulders. You can feel her whole body trembling with need against yours. "I need you so bad," she whispers between kisses. "It's been too long."

You pull back slightly, studying her face. "Are you sure you're feeling better? Your heart..."

"I'm fine now, completely recovered," she assures you, already working on your shirt buttons. "Please, I want you so much." Her voice is breathy with desire.

Your hands shake slightly as you help her undress. Each inch of exposed skin is like a dagger of guilt mixed with raw hunger. You can't stop thinking about how Ningning's skin felt under these same hands just days ago. But Minji's body is different - softer, more delicate, familiar like coming home.

Her breasts spill free as you unhook her bra, dark nipples already hard and begging for attention. You lean down to take one in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive peak as she gasps. Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer.

"Fuck, I missed your mouth on me," she moans. The pure love and trust in her voice makes you want to cry.

You worship her breasts with lips and tongue, trying to pour all your remorse and devotion into each kiss. Her skin tastes sweet and clean, so different from Ningning's musky perfume that still haunts your memories. You trail kisses down her flat stomach, dropping to your knees.

Her panties are already soaked through when you peel them down her legs. The familiar scent of her arousal makes your cock throb painfully. You spread her thighs wider, drinking in the sight of her pretty pink pussy that belongs only to you. Or at least, it should have.

"Please," she whimpers, hips rolling forward seeking your mouth. You don't make her wait, diving in to lap at her swollen clit. She cries out, legs trembling as you devour her like a starving man. And you are starving - for her forgiveness, her love, her pleasure.

Your tongue traces patterns over her sensitive flesh as she writhes above you. You slip two fingers inside her tight heat, curling them to stroke that spot that drives her wild. Her walls clench around your fingers as you pump them in and out.

"Oh god, right there," she pants. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

You double your efforts, sucking her clit while fucking her with your fingers. Her thighs begin to shake as she gets close. You can feel her pussy pulsing, drawing your fingers deeper.

"I'm gonna cum," she warns, grinding against your face. You hum encouragement against her clit and she explodes, crying out your name as she floods your mouth with her sweet juices. You lap up every drop, helping her ride out the intense orgasm.

When her tremors finally subside, you stand and kiss her deeply, letting her taste herself on your tongue. She moans into your mouth, hands fumbling with your belt buckle.

"I need you inside me," she breathes. "Need to feel you stretching me open."

You finish stripping as she pulls you toward the bed. Her small hand wraps around your rock-hard cock, stroking firmly. Pre-cum leaks from the tip and she uses it to lubricate her movements.

"You're so big," she purrs. "I forgot how perfectly you fill me up."

The praise makes you throb in her grip, even as shame burns in your chest. You remember Ningning saying almost the same words as she rode you. Push the memory away. Focus on Minji, only Minji.

You lay her back on the bed, settling between her spread thighs. Her pussy is still dripping from her orgasm as you line yourself up. You start to push inside but she stops you.

"Wait," she says softly. "I need to tell you something first."

Your heart nearly stops.

Does she know?

Did Ningning confess?

"I'm so sorry about our fight," she continues. "I should have talked to you about the trip earlier. I don't want you to think you're being left out. Can you forgive me?"

Relief floods through you, followed immediately by fresh waves of guilt. "Baby, no. I'm the one who should apologize. I was a complete asshole. I love you so much and I never should have..."

She silences you with a kiss. "It's okay. We're okay. Just make love to me now."

You push inside her slowly, savoring every inch as her tight walls stretch to accommodate you. She's so fucking tight after a month apart. Her nails dig into your shoulders as you bottom out.

"Fuck," she gasps. "So full. Move, baby, please move."

You start a steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sliding deep again. Each thrust draws soft moans from her perfect lips. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

"I love you," you tell her between kisses. "Love you so much." The words taste like ashes in your mouth but you mean them with every fiber of your being.

"Love you too," she pants. "Harder baby, fuck me harder."

You pick up the pace, driving into her with more force. The wet sounds of your coupling fill the room along with her increasingly loud cries. Her pussy squeezes you a little tighter, so hot and perfect around your aching cock.

You shift angles slightly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes her see stars. Her back arches off the bed as she claws at your shoulders.

"Right there, oh fuck right there!" she practically screams. "Don't stop, gonna cum again!"

You maintain the angle, pounding into her g-spot relentlessly. Her whole body starts to shake as another orgasm builds. You can feel her pussy fluttering around you, trying to milk your cock.

"Cum for me baby," you growl. "Let me feel that tight little pussy cum on my cock."

Your words push her over the edge. She throws her head back with a cry of pure ecstasy as her walls clamp down hard. You fuck her through it, drawing out her pleasure as long as possible.

When she finally comes down, you slow your thrusts but don't stop. You're nowhere near finished worshipping every inch of her perfect body.

You pull out and flip her onto her hands and knees, admiring the curve of her spine and the perfect globes of her ass. Her pussy is dripping down her thighs, swollen and pink from your attention.

You slide back inside in one smooth thrust, both of you moaning at the deeper penetration this position allows. Your hands grip her slim hips as you start moving again, watching your cock disappear into her eager hole over and over.

"You feel so good," you groan. "So fucking perfect wrapped around my cock."

She pushes back to meet your thrusts, taking you impossibly deeper. "Love your cock," she gasps. "Fill me up so good."

You lean forward to kiss and bite at her shoulders, one hand sliding around to play with her clit. She's so sensitive after two orgasms that she jerks at the contact.

"Too much?" you ask, easing the pressure.

"No, don't stop," she begs. "Want to cum again. Please make me cum again."

You rub tight circles on her swollen clit as you continue fucking her from behind. Her moans get higher and more desperate with each passing moment. You can feel her starting to tighten around you again.

"That's it baby," you encourage. "One more time for me. Show me how good I make you feel."

Her arms give out and she faceplants into the pillow, muffling her screams as a third orgasm rips through her. You have to grip her hips tight to keep her from collapsing completely.

When she stops shaking, you carefully pull out and turn her over. She looks absolutely wrecked in the best way - hair a mess, lips swollen from kissing, skin flushed and covered in a light sheen of sweat.

You kiss her deeply as you slide back inside her oversensitive pussy. She whimpers into your mouth but wraps her legs around you, pulling you closer.

"I want to try something," she says shyly when you break the kiss. "Something we haven't done before."

Your cock twitches inside her as you wait for her to continue. She bites her lip nervously.

"When you cum... I want you to cum on my face."

The words hit you like a physical blow. Images of Ningning's face covered in your cum flash unbidden through your mind. The way she'd smirked and said "Minji would never let you do this to her, would she?"

You try to keep your voice steady. "Are you sure? You've never wanted that before."

She nods. "I've been thinking about it while I was away. I want to try new things with you. Want to make all your fantasies come true."

Guilt threatens to choke you but your cock throbs traitorously at her words. You kiss her hard, trying to convey everything you can't say.

You start moving inside her again, harder and faster now. She meets you thrust for thrust, getting into it despite her previous orgasms. Her hands roam over your back and shoulders as she kisses and nibbles at your neck.

"You're so beautiful," you tell her between ragged breaths. "So perfect. I don't deserve you."

She doesn't know how true those words are. Doesn't know the depth of your betrayal. But you pour all your love and remorse into every thrust, every kiss, every touch.

You can feel your own orgasm building as her tight pussy squeezes around you. The familiar pressure builds at the base of your spine. Your movements become more erratic.

"Getting close," you warn her. "Where do you want me?"

"On my face," she reminds you breathlessly. "Want to feel your hot cum all over my face."

You pull out with a groan and move up her body. She looks up at you with such trust and love as you stroke your cock above her beautiful face. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips in anticipation.

The sight pushes you over the edge. You cry out as the first rope of cum lands across her cheek. More follows, painting her lips, nose, and forehead with your seed. She keeps her eyes closed but her mouth opens slightly to catch some on her tongue.

When you're finished, you use your still-hard cock to spread the cum around her face, just like you did with Ningning. The comparison makes you sick but you can't help it. Minji looks even more beautiful like this - face covered in your cum, lips curved in a satisfied smile.

"Was that okay?" she asks softly, opening her eyes to look up at you.

You lean down to kiss her cum-covered lips. "You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect."

She giggles and reaches for tissues to clean up, but you stop her. "Let me," you say, grabbing a warm washcloth from the bathroom. You tenderly clean her face, pressing gentle kisses to each spot after you wipe it clean.

"I actually really liked that," she admits as you finish. "The way you marked me as yours..."

If only she knew. If only you deserved her trust and devotion. But you push the guilt down and pull her into your arms, holding her close as if you could protect her from your own betrayal.

"I love you so much," you whisper into her hair. "More than anything."

She snuggles closer with a contented sigh. "I love you too. I'm so glad to be home with you."

You stroke her back as her breathing evens out, exhausted from travel and multiple orgasms. Soon she's fast asleep in your arms, completely trusting and vulnerable.

You lie awake holding her, torn between overwhelming love and crushing guilt. The memory of Ningning won't leave you alone - the way she seduced you, how easily you gave in to temptation. You don't deserve Minji's pure love and trust.

You press a final kiss to her forehead before closing your eyes, praying that someday you'll feel worthy of her love again. For now, you just hold her close and try to forget everything except how perfectly she fits in your arms.

—

Suddenly there's a knock at the front door.

You wake up feeling a little dazed, but soon your brain reminds you of the hell you got yourself into. Your blood automatically runs cold - you'd know that aggressive knock anywhere.

"Ignore it," Minji whispers sleepily.

"It might be important," you say reluctantly, getting out of bed. You quickly pull on your pants while Minji wraps herself in a sheet.

Sure enough, when you open the door Ningning is standing there with a predatory smile. She's wearing a tight black dress that shows off her curves, her long dark hair falling in waves around her shoulders.

"Oh, did I interrupt something?" she asks innocently, pushing past you into the apartment. Her eyes rake over your bare chest and the obvious bulge in your pants from morning wood.

"Ningningie!" Minji calls happily from the bedroom. "Give me a minute to get dressed!"

While Minji is changing, Ningning corners you in the kitchen. She presses her body against yours, her hand sliding down to squeeze your still-hard cock through your pants.

"Miss me?" she purrs. "I know you've been thinking about me. About all the nasty things we do together."

You grab her wrist and push her away. "Stop it. This has to end."

She laughs. "You know what you have to do if you want it to end. Break up with her, or I'll tell her everything."

Before you can respond, Minji emerges from the bedroom fully dressed. Ningning immediately steps away, her demeanor changing completely as she hugs her best friend.

The three of you sit in the living room while Minji tells Ningning about her trip. You can barely focus on the conversation, too aware of Ningning's predatory gaze and the way she keeps "accidentally" brushing against you.

When she finally leaves hours later, you feel physically ill. You know you're trapped - there's no way out of this that doesn't end in devastating heartbreak for Minji.

That night, after Minji falls asleep, your phone buzzes with a text from Ningning: "Come over. Now."

You shouldn't fucking go. Every fiber of your being screams that this is wrong, that you should stay in bed with Minji's warm body curled against yours. But the threatening texts from Ningning make your blood boil - if you don't show up, she'll spill everything to Minji. That manipulative bitch has you by the balls and she knows it.

"Fuck," you mutter, carefully extracting yourself from Minji's embrace. Your girlfriend shifts slightly but doesn't wake. The guilt churns in your stomach as you slip on clothes and shoes.

The drive to Ningning's apartment is torture. Your hands burn from being pressed against the steering wheel, jaw clenched so hard it aches. When you knock on her door, she answers wearing nothing but a sheer red lingerie set, her nipples are clearly visible through the see-through fabric, and the tiny thong barely covers her pussy.

"You fucking bitch," you snarl, shoving past her into the apartment. "This is the last goddamn time. I'm done with your manipulative bullshit."

Ningning's red lips curve into a wicked smile. "Mmm, I love when you're angry," she purrs, pressing her nearly-naked body against yours. "You can take it all out on me tonight, daddy. I want you to punish me for being such a bad girl."

She produces a pair of metal handcuffs, dangling them from one finger. "I'll let you restrain me. Do whatever you want to me. Hurt me, use me, make me pay." Her voice drops to a whisper. "I know you want to."

Your cock betrays you, hardening in your pants despite your rage - or maybe because of it. Ningning notices and grinds against your erection. "See? Your body knows what it wants, even if you pretend otherwise."

With a growl, you grab her wrists and snap the cuffs around them, perhaps a bit tighter than necessary. She gasps but her eyes sparkle with excitement as you roughly shove her toward the bedroom.

"On the bed. Now." Your voice is cold and commanding. She obeys eagerly, lying back with her cuffed hands above her head. The red lingerie contrasts beautifully with her pale skin, but you're too angry to fully appreciate the view.

You climb onto the bed, straddling her waist. Your hands wrap around her throat - not squeezing, just resting there as a threat. "I should fucking choke you for what you're doing to my relationship."

"Do it," she moans, arching up against you. "Make me suffer."

Instead, you release her throat and roughly grab her tits through the sheer bra. Your fingers find her hardened nipples and pinch them harshly, making her cry out in pain and pleasure.

"Is this what you wanted, you manipulative slut?" You twist her nipples cruelly. "To force me here so I can hurt you?"

"Yes! Fuck yes!" She writhes beneath you. "I love when you're rough with me. So different from how gentle you have to be with precious little Minji-"

"Don't you fucking dare say her name," you growl, slapping her face. The crack of skin on skin is loud in the quiet room. A red handprint blooms on her cheek.

Ningning moans obscenely. "Sorry daddy. I forgot you don't like to be reminded of your girlfriend while you're fucking your side piece."

You rip her flimsy bra off, exposing her full breasts. Your mouth descends on one nipple, biting down hard enough to make her squeal. Your other hand roughly kneads her other breast, pinching and pulling at the sensitive flesh.

"Fuck yes, hurt me daddy!" she cries out. "Mark up these tits that you love to stare at when Minji isn't looking!"

Another harsh slap across her face silences her. "I told you not to say her fucking name." You grab her jaw, forcing her to look at you. "You're nothing compared to her. Just a worthless whore I'm using to get my rocks off."

The words seem to excite her more. She spreads her legs wide, the tiny thong doing nothing to hide how wet she is. "Then use me, daddy. Use this worthless whore's holes however you want."

Your hand travels down her body, roughly groping and squeezing. When you reach between her legs, you find her pussy absolutely soaked through the thin fabric. You yank the thong aside and thrust two fingers deep inside her without warning.

"Fucking slut," you growl as you finger-fuck her roughly. "Already this wet just from being manhandled. You're pathetic."

"Yes! Yes I am!" She rocks her hips, trying to take your fingers deeper. "I'm a pathetic slut who gets off on stealing other women's men. Punish me for it!"

You curl your fingers to hit her g-spot while your thumb circles her clit. But you keep the pressure light, teasing rather than satisfying. She whines in frustration, trying to grind against your hand.

"Please daddy, I need more!" she begs. "Stop teasing me!"

"Shut the fuck up," you snap, shoving three fingers into her mouth. She immediately starts sucking on them obscenely, her tongue swirling around the digits. "That's all your mouth is good for - being stuffed full."

You continue fingering her pussy torturously slow, bringing her close to orgasm before backing off. Her whole body trembles with need, hips bucking desperately. Wet sounds fill the room as you pump your fingers in and out of her dripping cunt.

"Look at you, so desperate to cum on my fingers," you taunt. "Such a needy little whore. I bet you touch yourself thinking about me fucking you like this while I'm in bed with Minji."

She moans around your fingers in her mouth, nodding eagerly. The admission makes your cock throb with anger and arousal. You withdraw your fingers from her mouth and pussy, making her whine at the loss.

"You want my cock, slut? Beg for it." You start undressing, watching her squirm on the bed.

"Please daddy, I need your big cock inside me! Need you to fuck me hard and rough, the way you can't fuck her. Want you to take out all your anger on my tight little pussy. Please please please!"

Once naked, you grab her hair and yank her head up. "First you're going to choke on it." You slap your hard cock against her face. "Open wide, whore."

She parts her lips eagerly and you waste no time shoving your cock down her throat. She gags and chokes but takes it like the experienced cocksucker she is. Tears stream down her face as you fuck her mouth brutally.

"This is what you deserve," you growl, watching your cock disappear between her stretched lips over and over. "Being used like the worthless cocksleeve you are."

Ningning moans around your shaft, clearly loving the degradation. Her tongue works the underside of your cock as you thrust, adding to the pleasure despite your anger. Spit and pre-cum dribble down her chin.

You pull out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting your cock to her swollen lips. She gasps for air, face flushed and makeup smeared. "Thank you daddy," she pants. "Love choking on your big cock."

"Shut up," you snap, roughly flipping her onto her stomach. You grab her hips and pull them up, leaving her face pressed into the mattress with her ass in the air. The position strains her cuffed wrists but you don't care.

You tear her ruined thong off completely and spread her ass cheeks, exposing both her holes. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, cream coating her inner thighs. You slap her ass hard, leaving a red handprint.

"Look how wet you are, you fucking slut," you growl, running your fingers through her slick folds. "Getting off on being treated like garbage. Pathetic."

"Yes daddy, I'm pathetic! Please fuck this pathetic whore's pussy!" She pushes her hips back, trying to entice you.

You line your cock up with her entrance and thrust in balls deep in one brutal stroke. She screams into the mattress, her pussy clenching around your shaft. The wet heat of her cunt feels incredible.

"Fuck, your pussy is so tight," you grunt, starting to pound into her roughly. "Too bad it's attached to such a worthless excuse for a woman."

"Yes! Use my tight pussy!" she moans. "Fuck me harder daddy! Show me what a worthless whore I am!"

You grab her hair and pull her head back sharply as you continue drilling her pussy. The new angle lets you hit even deeper, making her whole body shake with each thrust.

"Is this what you wanted so much?" you growl in her ear. "To be fucked like the dirty slut you are? To have your pussy destroyed by another woman's man?"

"God yes! Love being your dirty little secret!" She pushes back to meet your thrusts. "I bet her fragile little heart couldn't handle those dirty words!"

You release her hair, letting her face fall back to the mattress. Your hands grip her hips bruisingly tight as you absolutely rail her pussy. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, along with her muffled moans and your grunts.

Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, cream coating your cock and balls. The obscene squelching sounds only fuel your anger - she's getting off so hard on being used like this.

You bring your hand down hard on her ass again and again, turning the flesh bright red. Each spank makes her clench around your cock as she cries out in pain and pleasure.

"Fucking whore," you pant as you pound her. "Taking my cock so well. Such a good little cumdump."

"Yes! I'm your whore! I belong to you. Your cumdump!" she babbles into the sheets. "Use me daddy! Wreck my pussy!"

You can feel her getting close, her walls fluttering around your shaft. But you're not ready to let her cum yet. You pull out suddenly, making her whine in protest.

"No! Please don't stop!" she begs. "I was so close!"

"Shut up," you snap, flipping her onto her back again. You grab her legs and push them up toward her chest, folding her nearly in half. "Remember this: you don't belong to me… And I'm not done using you yet."

You slam back into her pussy, somehow going even deeper in this position. She screams in pleasure as you resume fucking her brutally. Her tits bounce with each thrust, nipples still red and swollen from your earlier abuse.

"Look at you, taking my cock like a proper whore," you growl. "This is all you're good for - being a set of holes for me to fuck."

"Yes daddy! That's all I am!" She's nearly sobbing with pleasure now. "Just holes for you to use! Please don't stop!"

Your pace becomes punishing, hips snapping against her with bruising force. The headboard slams rhythmically against the wall as you pound her pussy. Sweat drips down your chest from the exertion.

"Gonna cum soon," she moans. "Please daddy, can I cum on your cock? Need it so bad!"

You wrap a hand around her throat, squeezing just enough to restrict her breathing. "You have to be a good girl if you want to cum."

The choking seems to drive her wild. Her pussy clenches around you even tighter as she gasps for air. You can feel her whole body trembling on the edge of orgasm.

"Please!" she begs when you ease the pressure on her throat. "Please let me cum daddy! I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" You slow your thrusts, making her whimper. "Even leave me and Minji alone?"

"N-no," she admits. "Can't give you up daddy. Need your cock too much."

You squeeze her throat again, harder this time. "Wrong answer, whore." You start pounding her pussy mercilessly, your own orgasm building.

"Sorry daddy!" she chokes out. "Please don't stop! Need to cum so bad!" The wet sounds of skin slapping skin filled the room along with her moans and whimpers. You could feel her getting close, walls fluttering around your cock. "Yes, yes yes! Gonna cum so hard for you!"

You keep the punishing rhythm, watching her writhe and arch closer to her peak. Her pussy drips, coating your cock in her arousal.

"That's it, Daddy, make me cum! I want to feel you fill me up when I do!"

But you have other plans. Just as her breathing hitches, her walls starting to spasm, you pull out completely. She cries out in frustrated protest.

"No! Please! I'm so close!"

You stroke your cock over her heaving body. "You don't deserve to cum, you manipulative bitch."

"Please! I need it! Need to feel you cum inside me!"

You aim your cock at her tits as your own orgasm builds. "The only thing you deserve is to be covered in my cum like the worthless slut you are."

She’s shaking, chest rising and falling as she watches, helpless. “No,” she whimpers, hips arching toward you, hands struggling against the cuffs. “Put it back in, Daddy, I need it-I need to cum- Cum with me, plea-” With a grunt, you explode over her perfect tits and stomach, thick ropes of cum painting her skin. She huffs in anger and frustration.

"You bastard! You ruined it on purpose!"

You get out of bed, satisfied with her denied pleasure. "I told you this was the last time. We're done."

She lies there panting, hands still cuffed above her head, covered in your seed. Her pussy is red and swollen from the rough fucking, cream still leaking out.

You unlock the handcuffs and start getting dressed without looking at her. The post-orgasm clarity brings the guilt crashing back full force.

You’re halfway into your shirt when her voice cuts through the room, honey-sweet and venomous.

"One week left." She leans back against the bed, crossing her arms with a satisfied smirk. "After that, I'm sending Minji a nice little video collection of us. And until then, you'll be here every night, and no more pranks on me!"

Your hands freeze mid-button, blood chilling. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Her eyes glint, sharp and dangerous. “Don’t play dumb. I’ve been recording us. Why do you think I encouraged you to drink over and over again until you forgot your name?” She lets it sink in, enjoying every second you look at her like she’s lost her mind. “I’m not stupid, and I know you’ll try to crawl back to her. And knowing her, after so much crying, she might even give you another chance. But with some beautiful visual proof of how much you were loving cheating on her, she'll hardly forgive you. Not when she watches you cum in my pussy while I scream your name.”

The anger bubbling up feels like fire beneath your skin. “You’ve been recording us without telling me? You’re out of your fucking mind, Ning!”

“Oh, I’m the crazy one?” she sneers, voice dripping with mock innocence. “And what about you? Lying to Minji, sneaking around to fuck me late at night?” She steps closer, all her rage and bitterness on full display now. “Don’t act like you’re some victim. You wanted this. Now it’s gonna cost you.”

Your hands ball into fists, trying to keep your voice steady. “This is insane. You really think blackmail’s gonna make me stay?”

“I just want her to know the truth,” she laughs, almost sweetly. “I want her to see what kind of man she’s clinging to. I want her to see you for the liar you are. And maybe - just maybe - she’ll finally understand what it’s like to lose something she thought she owned.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spit. “Minji never stole anything from you.”

She’s inches from you now, voice low and seething. “She stole everything,” she snaps, voice shaking with rage she’s clearly been holding back. “She was always the pretty one, the smart one, the good girl. The one everyone wanted to be around. And every time, people just forget about me.”

“That’s all in your head,” you say, shaking your head, voice cold. “Minji would never hurt you on purpose.”

“Please.” She snorts, a nasty smile twisting her lips. “She plays the innocent act so well, doesn’t she? Sweet Minji! Everyone’s favorite! But the second you walked into her life, she had to have you. Didn’t care that I liked you first!”

You laugh bitterly, stepping back. “You’re delusional.”

“Say what you want. You know I’m right.” She shrugs, looking at you like you’re a bug under her shoe. “Minji needs to learn what it feels like to be humiliated. And if you don’t break things off, she’s gonna get a front-row seat.”

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “This is all about you. About your fucking ego. You don’t give a damn about me or what happens to her.”

“Believe whatever makes you sleep at night.” She gives you a saccharine smile. “One week. I want you here tomorrow at this same time. And I think you better make me have at least four orgasms to make up for the anger you made me feel tonight... Now get the fuck out of here - I need to make myself cum!”

—

The next few days are exactly the same. You can barely eat or focus at work. You just don't sleep anymore. Minji notices something is wrong but you brush off her concerns, saying you're just stressed about a project.

Ningning keeps showing up at your apartment unannounced, finding excuses to touch you and whisper dirty things when Minji isn't looking. And at night? Well, there you are, in Ningning's room, fulfilling her whims, helpless and at the mercy of a maniac girl. During these days you couldn't find a way to tell Minji the truth. You know it will be the end of your relationship. Damn, you know this will destroy her, and there's no way this ends well, but even so, you keep putting off the truth... Suffering for the inevitable.

You feel like you're going insane.

Finally, the deadline arrives. You're sitting on the couch with Minji when her phone chimes with multiple notifications. "Why the hell is Ning sending me so many messages?” she asks with a chuckle, glancing at her phone's locked screen, showing only the number of messages and the sender. Your heart stops - you know what Ningning has sent.

"Wait," you grab Minji's wrist before she can check the messages. "I need to tell you something first."

She looks at you with concern. "What's wrong? You've been acting so strange lately."

You take a deep breath, knowing these next words will shatter her world. "I... I've been sleeping with Ning."

The color drains from Minji's face. "What?"

"It started when you were away. I was drunk and upset after our fight, and she was there..." You try to explain but the words sound hollow even to your own ears.

"How long?" Minji whispers, tears filling her eyes.

"A month. It... it kept happening. She threatened to tell you if I didn't leave you for her. I'm so sorry, Minji. I never meant-"

"My best friend?" she cuts you off, voice breaking. "How could you do this to me? Both of you?"

Her phone continues to buzz as Ningning sends video after video. Minji's hands tremble as she unlocks her phone and begins scrolling through the videos and photos.

“Babe, don't look…”

"How could you?" she asks, her voice breaking. "With my best friend? In our bed?"

"Minji, I'm so sorry," you start, but she cuts you off with a slap across your face.

"Don't!" she screams, stumbling backward. She throws her phone at the couch with such force that it bounces and falls to the floor. "Don't you dare apologize! When did this start?"

"Three days after you traveled," you admit, your cheek stinging. "It just happened, and then-"

"It just happened?" she laughs hysterically. "What, you just accidentally fell into her pussy? Multiple times?"

She picks up the phone from the floor, scrolling through more of the photos Ningning is still sending. "Oh my god, the kitchen counter? Where I make breakfast every morning? Our fucking couch?"

Her breathing becomes erratic, and she clutches her chest. You step forward in concern, but she holds up a hand to stop you.

"Don't touch me," she gasps. "I can't... I can't breathe…”

She stands up shakily, pressing a hand to her chest. Her breathing becomes labored and her face contorts in pain.

"Minji?" Panic grips you as she suddenly collapses. You catch her before she hits the ground, frantically calling her name as you dial the emergency number.

The next hours are a nightmare of hospital corridors and worried doctors. Minji's parents arrive and bar you from her room, though you can hardly blame them.

—

Days pass in a haze of guilt and worry. You call the hospital constantly for updates, but they won't tell you anything since you're not family.

Finally, after a week, you get a text from Minji herself.

"You can come see me. Room 412."

Your hands shake as you drive to the hospital. When you reach her room, you almost turn back, but you force yourself to knock.

"Come in," her voice calls weakly.

She's propped up in the hospital bed, looking small and pale against the white sheets. There are monitors beeping steadily beside her, IV lines running into her arm. The sight breaks your heart.

"Hi," you say softly, hovering by the door.

"Sit," she indicates the chair beside her bed. When you do, she studies your face for a long moment. "You look terrible."

"I haven't been sleeping." You lean forward, elbows on your knees. "Minji, I am so, so sorry-"

"Stop." She holds up a hand, just like before. "I don't want your apologies right now. I want answers."

You nod, prepared to tell her everything.

"Why?" she asks first. "Did I do something that ended up hurting you?"

“This has nothing to do with you," you admit. "I take full blame. Ning came to visit me as you asked, I was drunk, lonely and sad. She kissed me and I... I didn't stop her."

“If I'd called earlier and said I was sorry for the fight, would it have changed anything?”

“Minji, this-”

“Answer me with yes or no!” she exclaims and soon begins to cough.

“... Maybe. But it's absolutely not your fault."

“How many times did you fuck her?”

"It happened maybe... Twelve or thirteen times." Each admission feels like ripping open a wound. "She would come over, saying she missed me, and then..."

"And then you'd fuck her," Minji finishes flatly. "In our home. In our bed. While I was thousands of miles away, sick and missing you."

"Yes." There's nothing else to say.

"Did you think about me? When you were inside her, did you think about how this would destroy me?"

"I tried not to think at all," you whisper. "I knew it was wrong, but she kept coming back, threatening to tell you if I didn't keep seeing her."

“Let me see the messages.”

You hand her your phone and everything is there, from the first threatening messages to the most recent ones, the nudes, the multiple missed calls early in the morning, the promises… There was a certain obsession in it all, which made Minji feel bad, returning the phone to you in disgust.

"So you were protecting me, huh?" Minji laughs bitterly. "How noble of you."

"No, I was being a coward," you admit. "I was weak and selfish and I destroyed the best thing in my life because I couldn't keep my dick in my pants."

She flinches at your crude words but doesn't disagree.

"Do you love her?"

"No," you say immediately. "God no, Minji. I love you. Only you! What happened with Ning was just sex, just a horrible mistake that I would give anything to take back."

"But you can't take it back," she says quietly. "You can't undo what you did to me, to us."

Tears start falling down your face. "I know. But please, please give me a chance to make it right. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" She looks at you with those dark eyes that used to hold so much love. Now they're full of pain and disappointment. "Would you get on your knees right now and beg?"

Without hesitation, you slide out of the chair onto your knees beside her bed. "Yes. I'll beg, I'll crawl, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make this up to you if you'll let me."

"I heard that conversation of yours," she says suddenly. “When you were talking to your mother on the phone about marrying me."

Your heart stops. You were planning to buy an engagement ring next year.

"I would be so happy," she continues, voice breaking. "I spent that whole month dreaming about our wedding, our future together. And the whole time, you were fucking my best friend in our bed."

"I'm sorry," you sob, grabbing her hand. "I'm so sorry, Minji. Please don't give up on us. Please give me one more chance."

She lets you hold her hand for a moment before pulling away. "I need time," she says finally. "When I get out of here, I don't want you at the apartment. I need space to think."

"Of course," you agree quickly. "Whatever you need. I'll stay with a friend."

"I'm not promising anything," she warns. "I don't know if I can ever trust you again. But... I still love you. God help me, I still love you."

"I love you too, baby," you whisper. "More than anything. I'll wait as long as it takes."

She nods, then closes her eyes. "I don't want you to call me baby. It's disgusting now... I'm getting tired. You should go."

You stand reluctantly, wanting to say more but respecting her wishes. At the door, you turn back.

"Minji? What about Ning?"

Her face hardens. "She was here a few hours ago. We had a private conversation about our friendship. Things that only concern the two of us. Of course, I never want to see her again."

You nod and leave, hope and despair warring in your chest.

—

Outside, the air feels harsh, almost judging, as if the world itself knows what you’ve done.

In the parking lot you see her: Ningning, draped across the hood of your car, wearing a tight red dress that seems inappropriate for a hospital visit. She flashes that sly, knowing grin, like she’s already the winner, already got you tangled in her web.

“Took you long enough,” she purrs, reaching for you, fingertips grazing your chest. “Now we don’t have to hide.”

You step back, swatting her hand away. “No. This isn’t happening anymore. We’re done.”

She laughs, a low, dark sound that echoes in the empty parking lot. “Oh, come on. Are you really going to give up on us just because you had a sad little chat with her?” Her eyes flash with that dangerous mix of pride and amusement. “I know it must have been hard. But now we can be happy together...”

“It was a mistake,” you say, cold. “I betrayed her for what? A few nights of-”

“Of what? Say it,” she cuts you off, stepping closer. “Of something you couldn’t resist? Or are you too much of a coward to admit it? We both know you wanted this as much as I did. You loved every second of it.”

“I don’t want it anymore. Don’t want you anymore.”

She laughs again. “You’re a goddamn hypocrite. You want to play the martyr now, pretend you’re a good guy?” She leans in, her face inches from yours, breath hot on your skin. “Please, you’re still that same bastard who kept crawling back for more. Don’t act like you’re suddenly above it.”

Her words make you want to flinch, but you stand your ground, hands clenched tight. “Maybe I was. But I’m done now. I don’t need you. I need to fix what I broke.”

“Wow, So is she willing to give you another chance? Okay, quite predictable. But you know why she didn’t yell, why she didn’t throw shit at you in there? Because she fucking knows she deserved it,” Ningning starts, her expression is kind of scary, as if she knows all the secrets of the world. “Yeah, she sat there, looking all wounded and pure, but don’t let that act fool you. She knew. She’s known all along, even if she’ll never say it out loud.”

You try to interject, but Ningning cuts you off, her voice rising, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Don’t give me that look! I'm not crazy! I saw it in her eyes when I walked in. That flicker of guilt, like she’s been caught, like she’s thinking, ‘Maybe I had this coming.’ Because guess what? She fucking did. She knew I loved you first. I’ve loved you since before she even knew your fucking name.”

She takes a step closer, jabbing a finger at your chest. “Do you know what it was like? Watching her swoop in with her sweet little smile, acting like she was all innocent and shy, when really, she was stealing what was mine? And I said nothing. I stood back, swallowed it, because, what, I was supposed to be the bigger person? Fuck that! She knew how I felt, and she still went for it. And she got you. She fucking won.”

Ningning’s voice cracks, but she pushes through. “And don’t think for a second she’s blameless. She played her part in this. She played you, she played me, and now she’s sitting up there in that hospital bed, acting like she’s some goddamn victim. But deep down, she knows. She knows she took something she never had a right to. And now? Now, she’s paying for it.”

Her words hang heavy in the air, and she exhales, running a hand through her hair like she’s trying to keep herself from spiraling further. “But the difference between me and her? I fucking own it. I wanted you, and I took you. I don’t hide behind some bullshit innocence or play the martyr. I go for what I want, and yeah, maybe that makes me the bad guy, but at least I’m honest about it.”

She gives you one last look, as if she's hoping that now you finally understand everything, her voice dropping, quieter now, but no less cutting. “She won’t admit it, but she knows. She deserved every second of this. But you know Minji. She’d rather die than let you see that, let you think for one second that she’s anything less than perfect.”

"You need help, Ning, you've created a whole fantasy in your head. Do you think you're that special to make Minji plot against you like this?”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Unbelievable. You’re pathetic. How can you be so blind and not see the truth? I'm trying to help you make the right fucking choice.” She spits the words at you like daggers. “You and I… we’re the same, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You shake your head, ignoring the pang her words bring. “We’re not the same, Ning. Not anymore.”

“You think you can just walk away from this? From me?”

“Watch me,” you mutter, yanking the car door open. The finality in your voice is ironclad, leaving no room for argument.

“You’ll be back,” she hisses. “You'll miss me when you realize who Minji really is. But then it'll be too late...”

But you don’t look at her as you drive off, leaving her alone in the parking lot.

And that was the last time you saw her.

—

Two months pass slowly. You move in with your friend, throwing yourself into work to avoid thinking about the mess you've made of your life. Ningning continues to send threatening messages, until you finally block her for good.

Finally, one rainy evening, your phone rings. It's Minji.

"Can we meet?" she asks without preamble. "Tomorrow at the café where we had our first date?"

Your heart races. "Yes, of course. What time?"

"Noon," she says, then hangs up.

You barely sleep that night, alternating between hope and dread. When you arrive at the café the next day, you're thirty minutes early. You order her favorite drink - vanilla latte with an extra shot - and wait.

She arrives exactly at noon, looking beautiful in a simple sundress. Your breath catches at the sight of her. She's gained back the weight she lost in the hospital, her cheeks rosy with health.

"Hi," she says, sliding into the seat across from you.

"Hi," you respond, pushing her coffee towards her. "I got your usual."

A small smile flickers across her face. "You remembered."

"I remember everything about you," you say softly.

She takes a sip of coffee, gathering her thoughts. "I've been doing a lot of thinking these past two months," she begins. "About us, about what happened, about what I want."

You wait, hardly breathing.

"I'm still angry," she continues. "I'm still hurt. What you did... it broke something in me that might never fully heal."

"I know," you whisper. "I hate myself for hurting you."

"But I've realized something," she says, meeting your eyes. "I don't want to hate you. I don't want to let what happened destroy all the good memories we have, all the love we shared."

"What are you saying...?"

"I'm saying... I think I can forgive you. Not completely, not yet. But I want to try."

Tears fill your eyes. "Really?"

"But," she holds up a hand, "there have to be conditions. First, we start as friends only. No romance, no sex, no pressure. We need to rebuild trust before anything else. If it doesn't feel right, then you'll disappear from my life."

You nod eagerly. "Of course. I'll do whatever you want, all at your own pace."

"Second, complete honesty from now on. About everything. One more lie and we're done forever."

"Absolutely," you agree. "I promise."

"And third," her voice hardens, "Ning is out of our lives completely. I'm sure she's still trying to contact you."

You pull out your phone and show her how you've blocked Ningning's number. "Already done. I haven't spoken to her since the hospital. She was waiting for me in the parking lot, thinking that suddenly we would be together."

Minji nods, satisfied. "She tried to convince me that you two were in love."

"What did you say?"

"I told her I saw the messages she sent you, threatening to tell me if you didn't keep sleeping with her." Minji's voice is cold. "She's not innocent. You're both guilty. But you told me you don't love her... Guess I can believe that for now. Oh, and after her mask fell off, I managed to convince her to delete all the videos she had recorded. I think the sight of me in a hospital bed touched her a little bit. No need to thank me."

You hang your head, shame burning through you.

"And," Minji continues, "you told me the truth before she could expose you. That counts for something, I guess."

"I should have told you sooner," you admit. "I was just so scared of losing you."

"And you almost did," she says quietly. "My heart literally couldn't take it."

You reach across the table, hesitantly taking her hand. When she doesn't pull away, you squeeze gently.

"I will spend the rest of my life making this up to you," you promise. "If you'll let me."

She looks at your joined hands for a long moment. "We'll see," she says finally. "One day at a time."

You spend the next hour talking - really talking - about everything that happened. She tells you how betrayed she felt, how the thought of you with Ningning still makes her physically ill. You tell her about the guilt that's been eating you alive, the sleepless nights spent hating yourself.

“I was looking at some wedding rings during my trip, just dreaming…” she says suddenly, catching you off-guard. “I was so happy, you know? Because I thought… I thought I’d found the one I wanted.” Her voice cracks, and she swallows, steadying herself.

The words sink deep, and your chest tightens. “Maybe someday… if we get there again, I’ll buy you the most beautiful ring in the world.”

She gives you a small smile. "One day at a time, remember?"

When it's time to leave, you walk her to her car. Before she gets in, she turns to you.

"I'm having dinner with my parents tomorrow night," she says. "Would you like to come?"

Your heart leaps. Her parents have refused to speak to you since the hospital. "Are you sure?"

She nods. "They need to see that I'm choosing to try again with you. It won't be easy - they hate you right now. But if we're going to move forward, they need to accept it."

"I'll be there," you promise. "Thank you, Minji. For giving me another chance."

She reaches up and touches your face softly - the first intimate contact she's initiated in two months.

"Don't make me regret it," she whispers, then gets in her car and drives away.

You watch until her car disappears around the corner, hope filling your chest for the first time in months. You know the road ahead will be difficult. Trust, once broken, is hard to rebuild. But you'll do whatever it takes to prove to Minji that her faith in you isn't misplaced.

Your phone buzzes - a text from an unknown number.

"Everything I did, I did for you," the message reads. "Hope you are happy with your choice. Don't say I didn't warn you."

You delete the message without responding and block the new number.

She'll have to give up at some point.

The only person you belong to now is Minji - if she'll have you.

As you walk to your car, you start planning how to win back not just Minji's trust, but her heart. It won't be easy, but nothing worth having ever is. And Minji is worth everything.

2K notes · View notes

monzabee · 11 days ago

Note

bee! smut/suggestive oscar headcanon please that vid you rebloged is making me feral 😫

f1 masterlist || oscar piastri x reader || +18, smut, mdni

okay wait why do i love this so much (also, i've never written headcanons before so please be kind):

so here it goes:

— to start things off kind of lightly, he might be a quiet guy, but this man is not shy. nope. not at all. like i feel like he is not shy to get creative (and freaky) in bed, and he is the literal embodiment of 'it's always the quiet ones'. he is also not afraid to try new things both of you might come across, which is certainly a big plus. — this man has a praise kink. like he full-on melts when you praise him. "you feel so good," "you’re so good to me," “no one else touches me like this”—his hands get firmer, and he starts moving faster, and he is all around rougher + bonus points if you say it while looking up at him or tugging on his hair. — i also think he would love to have you on his lap? like i don't necessarily think it's a possession thing (or is it?👀), but i feel like he would just love to have you on his lap in a casual dominance kind of a way. althoughhh, it may look innocent, at first, but his fingers always end up playing with the hem of your skirt or sliding between your thighs. — we all know oscar is not the most expressive guy in public (enter his post-race win/podium radio here), but i feel like he loves the idea of marking you—not necessarily in a place that might show like your neck or collarbones, but someplace where only he knows it is there, like your thighs or your chest. — speaking of thighs, oscar piastri is a thigh guy🫵 he loves your thighs. he loves to lay his head on them (and the scalp scratches that come with them), and he also loves to tease you by fucking them, instead of giving into what you want. i also think he would love the feeling of them being wrapped around his head when he is going down on you OR how they feel wrapped around his body when he is fucking you into the mattress. he isn't too fussy when it comes to which he loves the most. — we've all seen those mclaren videos of lando of him, and we all know he is the messy one... as he is in bed, of couse. i feel like he's not necessarily too pressed about being all that neat, and he does appreciate a bit of a mess—he's also especially a big fan of how fucked up you look after he's done getting his way with you (it means that 'he's done his job well', not my words, his).

+ plus

— he is painfully aware of the voice kink you have for him, and boy does he use it to his advantage! there’s something about his voice when he’s wrecked—low, rough, breathy moans that only come out when he’s close. hearing him curse softly in your ear? lethal. he doesn’t say a lot, but the noises he makes do stay in your head for days, and he is not afraid of being vocal.

#monzabeeasks #monzabee #requests open #f1 headcannons #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri headcannons

488 notes · View notes

thinkinonsense · 8 months ago

Text

cw: face sitting, fingering, squirting, slight inspection kink

"c'mon sweets, let me get a good look atcha." logan's voice rang in your ears.

you had been so good for him all day. he asked for one day of relaxation before he had to go on another mission tomorrow with the team. so you made sure that he was well fed for the day, had a pack of cigars ready for him and a new bottle of whiskey in the kitchen.

the two of you spent the day in his room, lounging around in each others arms while he reads and you sit curled up next to him. after hours of you playing with his hair, he decided to treat you for the rest of the evening.

which brings the two of you to this moment where logan's got you bend over face down ass up and spread open for his viewing pleasure. it's obscene the position he has you in. folds spread and glistening in the low light of his bedroom. your sweet arousal holds him hostage.

"please, lo." you beg, arching back even more. "been good for you all day."

"i know you have, baby." he purrs rubbing the back of your thighs. "such a good girl for me."

those few words could've started a puddle underneath you. he's lapping up the slick running down your leg. running his hot tongue over the plush skin.

"prettiest fuckin' pussy i've ever seen." he groans, smacking your ass playfully.

logan adjusts himself under you, letting you sit on his face. he pushes you down on his awaiting tongue, lapping your arousal up like a thirsty dog.

"use my face, princess." logan pleads, holding you down on his face.

"d-don't wanna hurt you, lo." you whimper, feeling his nose bump your clit.

he chuckled before grinding you down harder and licking at your entrance. the second the muscle makes its way past your gummy wall, you can't help but start moving faster on his face, using his nose for your own pleasure.

"oh, f-fuck." you moan, lacing your fingers in his hair and tugging.

logan knew your cunt like the back of his hand. he spent time memorizing every little thing that made you fall apart.

"i'm so c-close!"

a loud squeal slips past your lips when his fingers replace his tongue. fast paced and rough, just the way you like it. filth pours from below, "practically swallowing my fingers, sweetheart."

right on the edge of pleasure, logan flicks his tongue over your bundle of nerves while he nudges your cervix. your hips have a mind of their own as the move across his face, searching for a euphoria that only logan can give you.

a sudden warmth floods your tummy in a way you've never felt before during sex.

"w-wait, lo!" you squeal, afraid of losing control of your own fluids. "need to s-stop!"

despite your words, your lower half only contradicted them. thighs wrapped nicely around logan's head while your nails scratch at his scalp. he's moaning into your cunt, already knowing what's coming.

"gonna- ah!"

a splash on slick covers logan's face, your thighs, and the sheets under you two. he couldn't believe his sweet girl could turn into a fucking fountain just from his fingers. this only further spurs logan on, needing to lick you clean. your thighs tremble and soft gasps pour from your glossy lips.

"need a break, baby." you whine, giving his hair a sharp touch to pull him off of you. or else he would be there all night.

"just a break." he says, moving you down to sit on his abs which only further overstimulates your soaked cunt. "cause i'm nowhere near done with you tonight."

2K notes · View notes

jijournal · 12 days ago

Text

THE ELEVEN WORD QUESTION | D.M

summary: Draco Malfoy would literally die for you—unfortunately, asking you to the Yule Ball might just kill him first. When he finally gathers the courage to do it, you politely decline… thanks to a spectacular misunderstanding. Now, with his pride bruised and his heart set, Draco is determined to win you over—properly, this time.

wc: 2.6k+

cw: DOWN BAD DRACO! awkward Draco who gets shy around reader, feat. Pansy, Blaise, & Theo as Draco's backup.

A/N: I love shy Draco. I AM SO SORRY THAT I HAVE BEEN INACTIVE LATELY. Aghhh I haven't posted anything in sooo long, I've been busy hihi.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Draco Malfoy was many things: a Slytherin, a menace on the Quidditch pitch, and the heir to one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain—but he had never felt this pathetic before. Not even the time he fell off his broom second year and cried because his wrist bent funny.

No, this was worse. Because he hadn’t just fallen—he’d plummeted, in front of you, with a flower in one hand and all his dignity left wilting somewhere between the Charms and Transfiguration section at the library.

You hadn’t looked back.

Not once.

Not even when he’d called after you, your name barely leaving his mouth before it got stuck in his throat with the taste of regret and disbelief.

He knew what it must’ve looked like. You thought it was a joke. That he was the joke. And for once, he couldn’t even blame you.

This catastrophe had all began the night before.

The Slytherin common room was filled only with the sound of crackling fire and the soft chatter of students with the scratch of quills against their parchment—until their heads turn to a yell that broke the silence.

"DRACO! We've been on this for over an hour now," Pansy sighed as she sat down on the couch between Theo and Blaise. "And for the millionth time, you are not going to DIE asking a girl to the Yule Ball!"

Pansy's "How to Woo a Girl 101" was clearly very hard for Draco to comprehend. Because based on the look on Theo's and Blaise's faces, it was not going well. At all.

Draco dramatically gasped as if he was being accused of murder, he then put a hand over his heart and then started rambling. "She isn't just any girl. She's the most perfect witch to ever exist! Gosh, do you guys even see how beautiful and smart and—" but, before he could continue, he was cut off by Blaise.

"We get it mate! You're bewitched by her." Blaise groaned loudly, throwing his head back and resting it on the backrest of the couch.

Theo sighed, "Mate, look," he said sternly, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You just have to ask her a simple eleven word question, 'Would. you. like. to. go. to. the. Yule. Ball. with. me.?' see? Easier than brewing Felix Felicis!"

Draco was suddenly hot and started to fidget with his fingers all because of that eleven word question. "Easy for you to say, Theo. You don't have a big fat crush o—" he was cut off yet again. This time, by Pansy.

"Alright, Malfoy. We're done," she announced, crossing her arms. "Either you tell her—or we will!" Pansy smirked, now putting her hands on her hips, trying to hide her laugh as she stood up. The two boys beside her started snickering as they followed Pansy towards the dormitories, leaving Draco in a very difficult position.

Theo suddenly stopped in front of Draco, "You better ask her soon or you know what's coming." He teased, then continued to follow Blaise and Pansy.

"Wait! I'll do it!" He stammered, his hand reaching out, a hopeless attempt to let them stay. "But—uh—is 'You looked like a powdered donut and still managed to be gorgeous.' a good compliment? Because the potion she was brewing blew up last week."

All he got in reply was loud groans and sighs as three of his friends continued walking away from him.

"Guys?!"

Silence.

Draco sighed as he looked down at his feet. "Hey! You looked like a powdered donut and still managed to be gorgeous." He quietly muttered to himself.

⸻

The next day, Draco's heart felt like it was going to come out of his chest and his feet felt like rubber as he saw you strolling through the library. This was it. This was the day he's going to ask you the eleven word question.

Naturally, he brought backup—just in case of a stutter, a horrible nosebleed, or, Merlin forbid, passing out. He had to full-on beg them to come with him, since, in Pansy's own words:

“How are you even going to dance with her if you need us just to ask her to the ball? What—are we going to do a group dance in case you pass out?”

She may be right...

But he badly needed emotional support or he'll die of a heart attack before he could even talk to you.

"Alright. I'm going to go up to her, compliment her pretty face, ask her the question, and hope for the best." He whispered, his grip tightening on the stem of your favorite flower.

The four of them were currently formed in a circle at the corner of the library, three pairs of eyes staring at the blonde boy as he told them his plan.

Theo gave him a flat look, unimpressed. “That’s the plan? That’s it?”

“Well, do you have a better one?” Draco snapped, slightly louder than he intended, which earned them all a sharp shhh! from Madam Pince across the room. They all winced and lowered their heads like scolded toddlers.

Blaise leaned in, voice a murmur. “Yes. Literally anything other than blurting out powdered donut compliments in the library.” He rubbed his temples. “Just… try not to be weird, mate.”

“I’m not weird,” Draco muttered, offended.

“Yeah?” Pansy raised a brow. “You practiced your line in the mirror seven times this morning and then gave the flower a pep talk.”

Draco blushed furiously. “It’s her favorite flower. It needs to be… emotionally prepared.”

Theo shook his head, muttering, “We’re emotionally exhausted.”

Still, despite their teasing, the trio gave him nods of encouragement as he squared his shoulders, tucked the flower carefully behind his back, and began the slow, risky walk toward where you sat—cross-legged on the carpet between two shelves, surrounded by a sea of books and parchment, humming softly to yourself as you scribbled into your notes.

He froze halfway.

You were chewing on the end of your quill, a bit of ink on your chin, your eyes narrowed in concentration. You wore a flower crown made of daises again today—different colors if he may add—the yellows, oranges, and whites complimenting your face. Draco thought he might pass out on the spot.

'Gosh how can she be so beautiful while doing nothing.'

"GO!" Pansy whisper yelled as she pushed Draco toward you.

"Wait n—" he stumbled toward you. He was begging his feet to go back to his safe cocoon where he wouldn't get humiliated or possibly pass out, but they were stuck on the ground—unable to move.

"Hey!" he gulped, his cheeks rapidly turning red for being flustered but mostly from embarrassment.

You glanced up at the sudden noise and there he was. He looked... hot.

HOT! as in sweating hot—not the kind of hot where his hair was pushed back after a shower in the quidditch lockers and definitely not the time when—

Stop it!

“Oh! Hello, Draco." You said, offering him a warm smile as you stood, brushing the creases from your skirt to face him properly.

He smiled back—but it wasn’t the kind of smile most people gave. It was lopsided, almost shaky, like it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be confident or terrified. His hands fidgeted behind his back, and then—

"ELEVENWORDQUESTION!" he blurted.

You blinked. “I’m sorry—what?”

Draco swallowed hard, his cheeks rapidly turning pink. “What I meant to say is… you look like a powdered donut.”

What.

The.

Hell?

Your smile faltered. You looked down at your shoes, heart sinking a little. Was that… was that supposed to be an insult?

“Oh,” you murmured, suddenly self-conscious. A quiet, uncertain panic started to rise in your chest.

“No, no, no, wait—!” Draco rushed forward, eyes wide. He reached out and placed his hands gently on your shoulders, his voice frantic now. “That came out wrong. I mean—you looked like a powdered donut last week—when the potion exploded—and you still looked… you still looked gorgeous.”

You looked up at him, stunned.

He took a breath, then, with trembling fingers, pulled a flower from behind his back. Your flower. The one he’d somehow remembered you loved.

“Would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?” he asked, quieter now—earnest, vulnerable, the chaos gone from his voice.

And that was when everything seemed to stand still. You stare at him, your mouth agape. You could feel blood rushing through your cheeks.

And then… from behind the nearest shelf came the unmistakable sound of stifled laughter.

You glanced past Draco and saw them—Pansy, Blaise, Theo—all doubled over, failing miserably at hiding. Pansy wiped a tear from her eye. Blaise was wheezing. And Theo was clutching his stomach, trying to breathe.

Oh.

Of course.

It was a dare. A prank. A joke at your expense.

The flower in Draco’s hand suddenly felt like a knife.

Your chest clenched. You took a step back.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” you said, forcing your voice to stay steady even as your throat tightened. “I… I have to say no.”

His face crumpled in confusion as you turned away, blinking back tears you refused to let fall—not here, not in front of them.

Not when your heart had almost believed him.

⸻

“Mate,” Blaise had said later, tentatively, from the foot of Draco’s bed, where Draco had buried himself under his emerald blanket like a disgraced ghost. “She didn’t even see the part where you were being sincere.”

“She saw enough,” Draco mumbled.

Pansy kicked his mattress. “She saw us laughing, you dolt. She thinks we were laughing at her. Do you know what that does to a girl?” she added sharply, voice rising with frustration and—Draco noticed—genuine guilt. “You’ve got less than a week till the Yule Ball, and if you want any chance of fixing this, you better stop acting like a sad house-elf and do something.”

Draco’s next plan of action was, to put it bluntly, disastrous.

If he couldn’t speak to you like a normal person, then maybe he could… gesture grandly instead. Show, not tell, right?

Wrong. So very wrong.

It began with him walking—strutting—past your table in the courtyard three times in one lunch period, each time pretending he just happened to be passing by. The first time, he loudly commented to Blaise about how some people had “really excellent taste in flower crowns.” The second time, he tripped on a root and faceplanted into a bush. The third time, he tried to recover by dramatically pulling out a textbook and reading upside down while sneakily peeking at you over the pages.

You didn’t look up once.

“Subtle,” Blaise had deadpanned as he helped pick leaves out of Draco’s hair.

Then came the grand gestures. One morning, you opened your Transfiguration book and found—inside it—a single, freshly pressed forget-me-not. The ink on the page was slightly smudged as if someone had fumbled it with nervous fingers. Tucked next to the flower was a piece of parchment with a single line in jagged, uptight handwriting:

I never forgot. - D

The next day? A little paper crane fluttered down onto your lap during Charms. No one else noticed—except you. It unfolded itself midair to reveal another message:

I’d say something. But every time I try, I ruin it.

He was trying. You could feel it, in all his awkward, dramatic glory.

Then, during Care of Magical Creatures, he nearly sacrificed himself trying to separate you from a cranky Murtlap. You didn’t even ask for help, but there he was, sprinting across the paddock like a knight in shining robes, yelling, “DON’T WORRY, I’VE GOT IT!” before the Murtlap turned and promptly bit his wrist.

You rushed forward instinctively, wand already out, muttering a healing charm with a furrow in your brow. And Draco… Draco smiled like he’d just been kissed.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, half-annoyed, half-worried, as he flexed his hand and hissed.

“Worth it,” he said, eyes locked on you.

That night, you found another note tucked into the folds of your Herbology textbook:

Still an idiot. Still hoping. Still not giving up.

You rolled your eyes.

But you smiled.

⸻

It wasn’t until three days before the ball that he finally had a chance to explain.

You were walking back from dinner, your hands tucked into your robes, eyes on the frost glittering across the windows, when you heard it:

“Wait—please.”

Draco’s voice. Real. Sincere. Clear.

You turned, surprised to see him without backup, no Pansy whispering strategies in his ear, no Blaise with the emergency escape plan, no Theo who can tease him to no end.

Just Draco.

Alone.

Face flushed from the cold—or nerves. Maybe both.

You folded your arms. “Going to call me a pastry again?”

He winced. “Gods, no. Never again.” A beat passed. Then: “Well, unless you start working at Honeydukes. Then maybe once. Or twice.”

You didn’t laugh. But the corner of your mouth twitched.

He took that as a good sign.

“I know what you thought,” Draco said, stepping forward. “When they laughed. You thought it was a joke. That I was making fun of you.” His eyes were painfully honest, gray and glinting like wet stone. “But they weren’t laughing at you. They were laughing at me.”

You blinked. “Why?”

“Because I’d been practicing that line since breakfast. Because I’d stammered like an idiot and spilled ink on my cuff and given a flower a motivational speech. Because I was absolutely pathetic. For you.” He let out a nervous huff.

“You make me stupid.”

Your heart did a little leap.

Draco stepped closer. “And you know what? I don’t care if I look stupid. I’d rather look stupid in front of the entire school than let you go to the Yule Ball without knowing the truth.”

There was a long, breathless pause.

“I like you. I’ve liked you since the first time you made that little dandelion braid and stuck it in your scroll instead of using a bookmark. I like how you hum to yourself when you’re thinking. I like that you stay up after curfew just to stargaze and name constellations like they’re your personal pets. I like that you make everything around you feel… lighter.”

He stepped closer again, now inches from you.

“And if you’ll let me… I want to make you feel that way too.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. For once, you were the one struck speechless.

Draco reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a a bouquet of your favorite flower. Blooming. Vibrant. Alive.

“I grew this,” he said quietly. “Chose the seed, studied the soil, made sure it got the exact right light. It took weeks. But it’s yours.”

He gently held it out.

You stared at the flower. Then up at him.

Finally, your voice found its way back.

“…You didn’t stutter,” you whispered.

Draco smirked. It was slow, confident—flirty.

“No. Not when it really matters.”

And then, with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he added, “So. Would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?”

You smiled.

Not just because the flower was perfect.

Not just because his voice was steady.

But because, for the first time, it felt real. No nerves. No games. Just Draco. Asking you.

Properly.

“Yes,” you said, cheeks glowing.

His grin was immediate.

“And I expect a dance,” you added, pretending to be stern. “A real one. No passing out. No backup dancers.”

Draco leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath.

“Only if you promise not to look like a powdered donut this time.”

You laughed—finally, laughed—and shoved his shoulder.

“You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” he said smugly, “I’m still your date.”

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

masterlist!

715 notes · View notes

alastorss · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! I hope you're having a good day! I've been thinking, how would Alastor react to the reader casually saying stuff like "I like your laugh, it's nice," and "You voice is really soothing," out of the blue.

a/n: oh i loooooved writing this ^ ^ he would 100% be the type to try and hide that he actually likes the compliments but fail miserably. thank you and i hope you like this!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You'd like to say you know everything about Alastor, but that's far from the truth.

You know his mother's jambalaya recipe, sure, and that he takes his coffee black. You've memorized the intro of his morning broadcast, and learned the feeling of his chin propped on your shoulder.

There are pieces of Alastor you know like the back of your hand, but somehow you've never even scratched the surface of deciphering him. He was just like that, you suppose—an enigma wrapped in another mystery that would take a lifetime to unravel.

The only thing he liked more than his secrets was keeping them, after all.

And he especially enjoyed toying with you—dangling little tidbits of trivia about him in front of your face and snatching it away when you inevitably took the bait. He'd laugh about it, too, saying you were so adorable for trying.

For some time you had hypothesized that his ears were a good way of gauging his real thoughts about matters, but he was irritatingly good at controlling those as well. Not even the slightest twitch to give away his inner monologue.

"You are so annoying, you know that?" You once told him while brushing your teeth, words coming out muffled from your toothbrush. Minty foam gathered at your mouth while you glared at him through the reflection in the mirror.

He only laughed, as he always did, and propped his chin on your shoulder.

"How rude!" He chastised you playfully.

You leaned down to rinse your mouth. "I'm just saying," you muttered after standing tall again, "I wish I knew what was going through that head of yours sometimes."

Unsurprisingly, Alastor's expression was unreadable.

He opted to bite your cheek and walk away from the conversation after that, not bothering to enlighten you even slightly.

You watched him from across the bathroom, eyeing the way his shadow danced around him with a mind of its own before it disappeared into the darkness.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

His downfall began with a comment you made after you ended up falling asleep with your head on his shoulder.

He had been reading the latest article about the Vees to you out loud, practically singing his amusement with how terrible this column had painted out Vox to be. With fame came criticism, of course, and Alastor would happily sit there and criticize Vox all day if he could.

Your head hit his shoulder quick and he sighed, ears perking at the familiar sound of your slowing breaths. (He didn't bother waking you. It's not like he had much else to do at the time.)

"Your voice is so soothing," you shrugged when you finally awoke. "The static is like... comforting white noise for me, or something."

'Or something?' he wanted to ask.

He didn't, because he didn't really care for an explanation further than that. (He definitely didn't avoid prying because he felt something warm in his chest knowing you thought that way about him.)

It kept happening after that, as much as he wishes it didn't.

Little comments you slid into conversation so casually—tiny compliments and teases that drove him up the wall. They were softening him up, flattering him in dangerous ways.

The demon felt his sanity wearing thin with each passing day, making tremendous efforts to hide the way your slips made him warm.

He's sure he is about to crack. At any moment, his ears will flick or his cheeks will cherub with genuine joy because you can't keep your words to yourself. But he's done well for himself thus far, pat on the back, for not gratifying you.

He mentally groans when you join him at the bar, eyeing his drink. "It's the middle of the day," you point out.

"And you've come to scold me?" He tuts.

"I've come to join you, actually."

Alastor chuckles, voice missing it's usual static filter. He reaches over to pour you a glass when you smile at him.

"You have a nice laugh."

He nearly shatters the glass in his hands.

You snicker quietly, leaning over the bar to creep under his face which is scrunched up in concentration.

"What's wrong? I like your laugh, you should do it more!"

Taking a deep breath, the Radio Demon reaches over to pinch your nose. You yelp and jerk away from him, glaring.

"Flattery will get you nowhere~" he sings.

Your head tilts to the side in confusion. There's a smugness to your gaze that makes him feel like a trapped animal, and he realizes that you've known all along what you've done to him.

"Oh, but I think it does," you laugh, nodding to his shadow burned into the floor.

Its smile is uncharacteristically soft, missing all semblance of its usual fangs and sharp edges. Howling in embarrassment, the shadow dives away, abandoning its owner to confront you alone.

All this time, his shadow had been the one betraying him. Through all the times he had forced his ears to stay rigid, with all the effort to maintain his mask of indifference, you'd seen where he had overlooked.

His jaw clenches so hard he can feel his teeth grinding into each other. "You are perceptive, my dear."

"No," you giggle. "You're just bad at hiding how you feel. I think it's cute."

Alastor glowers at you, but his ears flop back and forth atop his head at your praise anyway.

taglist (i totally forgot i'm sorry!!): @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 (send and ask to be added!)

#alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor fanfiction #alastor fic #alastor headcanons #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfic #faye's thoughts — ☁

5K notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 2 years ago

Text

Talking to the dead

Mafia!yandere x reader

Warnings: dead sibling, mentions of digging up the grave

He's furious that you've escaped. Infuriated that you managed to slip past the guards again. He wants to put a bullet through their chests. They've tracked you down to the cemetery, a weird place, Silas thinks.

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees you sit by a tombstone, talking. There's no one around, who are you holding conversation with? He tells his men to stand by while he sneaks over.

"I'm in danger", you sob and chuckle slightly. "I've put myself in a dangerous situation, you know. I wish you were here. I could need a big sister/brother now. I need guidance. I don't know what to do, I'm so scared. Everything is terrifying." You sigh. "Well, now I've told you everything that has happened since you passed away. Quite the story, isn't it? Yeah ... I really miss you."

Silas sighs and scratches his neck, looking back at his guards, thinking. He knew that your sibling was dead, but he never imagined that he would find you like this.

"Y/N", he says carefully, wanting to catch you attention.

You gasp and hug the stone for dear life.

"Don't take him/her!" you scream in a heartbreaking tone.

Silas walks over to you, sinking down beside you. His heart breaks.

"I'm not going to take them", he reassures you. "Why don't you introduce me? Or have you already done that? I heard you told everything."

You still hug the stone tightly. Silas puts his hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that he won't dig up the grave and steal your sibling. He brings you back and takes a look at the name on the stone before placing his hand on it. I'll protect them, he thinks and hopes that your big brother/sister will hear him, I will die for them.

Silas brings your shaking, sobbing body into his arms and kisses the top of your head. He won't punish you for this, his heart can't allow it.

While taking your defeated form to the car, he turns to his men and tells them to visit the grave every week to plant new flowers, water them, light candles, and clean the stone. And if they ever miss a week, he will kill them.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere fics #yandere oc x reader #yandere stories #yandere angst #yandere drabble #yandere short stories

4K notes · View notes

chrissssssmut · 4 months ago

Note

Seven minutes in heaven with your tomboy best friend/cousin sparks an incestous romantic relationship

Unspoken Tension

Tomboy Winter x Male Reader (SMUT)

AN: SURPRISE! I've been working on this request for quite some time now! Sorry it took this long! I literally had to to multitask and write multiple stories all at once XD. Hope y'all like this esp to the one who requested!

It started with a game—something stupid, something harmless. That’s what you told yourself.

“Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that simple.

Winter had always been different from the other girls in your family—louder, brasher, less concerned with being ‘ladylike.’ While the rest of your cousins fussed over makeup and gossip, she was the one climbing fences and challenging you to arm-wrestling matches. Maybe that’s why you never really thought about her that way.

Until that night.

You sat in a loose circle with your cousins and a few friends, the air thick with the scent of cheap beer, soju and perfume. The empty bottle spun, wobbling on the hardwood floor before landing on Winter. And then on you.

A chorus of laughter and teasing erupted. Someone clapped you on the back. Winter only smirked, cocking her head.

“Well?” she drawled, already pushing herself up. “You scared?”

Your throat went dry. This is fine. It’s a stupid game.

The closet was cramped, barely enough space for the two of you. The second the door shut, the air changed. The laughter outside muffled into a dull hum, leaving only the sound of Winter’s slow, deliberate breathing.

She leaned against the wall, watching you in the dim light. “You look nervous.”

“I’m not.”

She laughed under her breath. “Liar.”

Seconds stretched. The air grew heavy, charged. Winter shifted, her knee bumping against yours. A touch so small, yet it sent a jolt through your spine.

You exhaled, trying to focus on anything else—the smell of old fabric, the soft scratch of her hoodie against the wall. But then she moved again, this time closer. Close enough that you could feel her warmth.

“You’re acting weird.”

“You’re the one cornering me.”

Winter tilted her head, considering you. Then, in a move so casual it felt dangerous, she reached out, fingers brushing the hem of your shirt. “You always this fidgety around girls?”

Your pulse hammered. “Not really.”

“Hmm.” A hum, low and knowing. “Just me, then.”

She didn’t kiss you. But she didn’t need to. The way she lingered, the way her fingers grazed your wrist before pulling back—it left something behind. Something unresolved.

When the door finally swung open, the others burst into laughter, throwing questions your way. You barely heard them. Winter just smirked, giving you a look that said, We’re not done.

And she was right.

You went about your days like nothing happened. Like she didn’t corner you in that closet, like she didn’t look at you like she was daring you to do something about it. But the worst part? You kind of wished she would do it again.

And then, because the universe is an absolute menace, something completely unexpected happened.

Winter’s parents were going away for a whole year. They needed someone to take care of her, and without hesitation, your parents had volunteered. You didn’t even get a say in it.

“Are you serious?” you asked as they casually dropped the news over dinner. “She’s staying here? For a year?”

“What, you don’t want me around?” Winter smirked, leaning back in her chair. Her short, dark hair framed her face perfectly, and the way she stretched her arms behind her head made you notice how toned her arms had gotten.

You cleared your throat. “That’s not what I meant.”

“She’ll be fine here,” your mom said, waving a hand dismissively. “And she’ll be sharing your room, by the way.”

Winter arched a brow. “Oh?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Wait, what?”

“Your bed’s big enough for two,” your dad added nonchalantly.

Winter glanced at you, amused. “Guess we’ll be roommates.”

You wanted to argue, but what could you even say? So, that was that. Winter was moving in, and you were going to have to deal with it.

The first night was awkward.

You lay on one side of the bed, stiff as a board, while Winter scrolled through her phone on the other. The glow from the screen illuminated her face, casting soft shadows over her sharp features. She looked effortlessly cool, like always.

“Relax,” she muttered, not even looking at you. “I’m not gonna bite.”

You let out a breath. “I’m relaxed.”

She side-eyed you. “You look like you’re about to explode.”

You scoffed. “It’s just weird, okay? Sharing a bed with you.”

Winter shrugged. “It’s just a bed. Unless you’re scared you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself.”

Your face heated. “That’s not—”

“I’m kidding,” she laughed, rolling onto her side. “You’re too easy to mess with.”

You turned your back to her, grumbling under your breath. But even as you tried to sleep, you were painfully aware of her warmth beside you. The scent of her shampoo. The rise and fall of her breathing.

This was going to be a long year.

Days passed, and Winter settled into your home with ease. She got along with your parents, made herself comfortable, and turned your room into her second domain.

The tension between you hadn’t lessened—it had only evolved into something more dangerous. There were moments when you’d catch her staring at you, but she’d look away before you could say anything. Times when she’d stretch and her shirt would ride up, revealing just a hint of skin, making you swallow hard. Accidental brushes of fingers, lingering eye contact, shared laughter that felt just a little too intimate.

Then, one morning, your parents dropped another bomb.

“We’ll be out the whole day,” your mom said, grabbing her purse. “Make sure Winter eats something. And don’t just stay cooped up in your room all day!”

Winter smirked at you after they left. “Looks like it’s just us.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “Guess so.”

“What do you wanna do?”

She leaned against the couch, thinking. “Show me more of that collection of yours.”

You hesitated. “You really wanna see it?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “You always talk about it, but you never actually show me.”

So, you led her to your room, opening the cabinet where you kept your prized collection—vintage video game consoles, classic action figures, and a shelf full of rare comic books. Winter whistled, reaching out to pick up a limited-edition figurine.

“You really are a nerd, huh?” she teased.

You rolled your eyes. “You asked to see it.”

She grinned. “I like it. It’s kinda cute how passionate you get about this stuff.”

You scratched the back of your neck, suddenly self-conscious. “Well, it’s important to me.”

She hummed, placing the figurine back. But instead of commenting, she just stared at you.

You felt it instantly—the shift in the air, the weight of her gaze. It was different this time. Heavier. Intense.

“…What?” you asked, your voice quieter than before.

Winter stepped closer. Your heart picked up speed.

Then, without warning, she reached up and pressed a finger against your lips.

“You talk too much,” she murmured.

And then she kissed you.

Your breath hitched. For a second, your mind went blank—Winter was kissing you. Her lips were warm, soft, lingering just long enough for you to feel everything before she pulled back slightly.

Panic flared in your chest, and you instinctively took a step back. “Winter—”

But she wasn’t letting you go.

Her hands gripped your collar, pulling you in. Her gaze, dark and filled with something unspoken, bore into yours.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered. “I already know.”

She backed you into the corner, her presence overwhelming, her scent intoxicating.

And then she kissed you again.

“You think I didn’t notice?” she continued. “All those times we locked eyes? The way you’d get flustered when I got too close?”

You swallowed hard. “It’s not that simple, Winter.”

She scoffed. “Yeah? Then tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Because you couldn’t. Because she was right.

Winter smirked, stepping even closer, her lips barely an inch from yours. “That’s what I thought.”

And then she kissed you again, deeper this time. And this time, you didn’t pull away.

Your breath hitched, body tensing as Winter’s fingers dipped beneath your waistband, cool against the feverish heat beneath. She didn’t hesitate this time. Her palm pressed firmly against you, fingers tracing your shape through the fabric, feeling every twitch, every pulse.

"So hard already," she murmured, lips brushing against his ear. "Are you that desperate?"

A shaky exhale escaped you, your body betraying as your hips instinctively pushed forward, seeking more. She smirked, tightening her grip, squeezing just enough to make your knees buckle. Your hands shot out, gripping her waist for support, fingers digging into her like she was the only thing keeping you upright.

"Oh, I love that," she cooed, dragging her fingers along his length in slow, deliberate strokes. "I wonder how much longer you can stand."

Her pace quickened, her touch firmer, her breath hot against your neck. Your head tipped forward, forehead resting against her shoulder as a strained groan left your lips. She laughed softly, pressing a teasing kiss to your jaw.

"Don’t hold back on me now," she whispered, giving you another squeeze. "Let me feel everything."

Her fingers hooked onto your waistband, nails grazing your skin as she dragged the fabric down, slow and deliberate. A smirk curled on her lips—she had been teasing you all night, enjoying the way your breath hitched whenever she got too close.

But the moment your pants hit the floor, her entire body locked up.

She froze.

Her breath caught in her throat, her heart slamming against her ribs so hard it almost hurt. Her pupils dilated, heat crawling up her neck as her gaze dragged over you, taking in every inch—every impossible, achingly unfair inch.

Oh. Oh.

Her mouth went dry. She swallowed thickly, fingers trembling slightly as they hovered uselessly at her sides.

What the fuck.

A shaky exhale slipped from her lips, her thighs pressing together instinctively. She tried—tried—to say something, anything, but all that came out was a soft, broken breath. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her voice barely above a whisper, she muttered:

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me."

And then, without thinking, she reached for you.

She gripped you—tight, desperate—her fingers wrapping around his heat like she owned it. Her first stroke was slow, agonizingly slow, dragging up his length before gliding back down with a firm, deliberate squeeze. Your entire body jerked at the sensation, a ragged breath escaping him as his hands clenched uselessly at his sides.

"Oh?" Her voice dripped with amusement, but there was something darker beneath it—something possessive. She stroked you again, this time faster, her grip unrelenting, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to his core. "Already shaking?"

She tightened her hold, twisting her wrist just enough to make his breath hitch, his legs threatening to buckle. Her lips brushed against his ear, her voice a husky whisper.

"Poor thing. I haven’t even started."

"We… we can’t—" Your voice broke before you could even finish the sentence. Your entire body was trembling, your hands twitching at your sides like you wanted to push her away, to resist—to fight this.

But then she squeezed you.

Your breath hitched, hips jerking forward against your will. A strangled, wrecked sound ripped from your throat, your head falling back against the wall with a dull thud. Your fingers dug into her wrists, tight, your whole body tense like you were about to snap.

"Shit—" You gritted your teeth, shaking your head as if trying to clear it, but it was useless. Every slow, torturous stroke of her hand sent another wave of heat crashing through you, dissolving what little self-control he had left.

"I… I can’t—fuck, I can’t do this—" Your voice was raw, like you were begging yourself to stop, but your body was already betraying yourself, your own resolve crumbling with every slick movement of her fingers.

Her grip tightened, her pace quickening just enough to make your knees buckle. Your breath turned ragged, fingers flexing uselessly before grabbing onto her hips, desperate for something—anything—to hold onto.

"You’re shaking," she murmured against your ear, her voice dripping with amusement, with control. "Still going to pretend you don’t want this?"

You shuddered, chest heaving, your last shred of resistance snapping as a broken groan tore from his lips.

"Fuck it." Your voice was wrecked, desperate. Your fingers tightened on her hips, dragging her closer. "Just—just don’t fucking stop."

Your entire body jerked when you felt it—warm, wet—her spit dripping onto his aching cock, sliding down your skin as she stroked you even faster. Your breath hitched, a strangled groan ripping from your throat, fingers twitching against her wrists like you were going to stop her.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

"Fuck," you gasped, head tipping back, eyes squeezing shut as she worked you with a pace that had your legs threatening to give out. Your grip tightened on her shoulders, desperate, trying to ground yourself, but she wasn’t done with you. Not even close.

Then you felt it—her mouth.

Hot. Wet. Perfect.

Your entire body locked up as she took you in, her lips wrapping around your tip, her tongue gliding over sensitive skin, sending a violent shudder down your spine. Your thighs tensed, your breath coming out in ragged gasps, your fingers instinctively threading into her hair.

"Shit, shit," you choked out, voice wrecked, shaking with a mix of pleasure and sheer disbelief, like you couldn’t even process what was happening. Like it was too much, too good, too fucking much.

Her mouth sank lower, taking you deeper, her tongue teasing, stroking, tasting. The wet sounds, the heat, the pressure—it was all driving him insane. Your fingers curled tighter in her hair, hips barely restraining themselves from bucking forward.

"F-fuck," you groaned, breath broken, your entire body trembling beneath her touch, your last shred of self-control disintegrating with every second she had her mouth on you.

You were completely, utterly ruined.

She pulled back with a wet pop, her lips slick, her breath coming fast as she stared up at you. A thin strand of spit still connected her mouth to your cock before breaking, sliding down her chin. Her eyes were dark, burning with need, with hunger that made your stomach tighten.

She stroked you once—slow, deliberate—watching the way your body shuddered beneath her touch. Then she leaned in, pressing her lips against your ear, her voice breathless, dripping with impatience.

"I can’t wait anymore," she whispered. "I need it inside me. Now."

Winter’s grip on you tightened, her body pressing closer, heat radiating off her skin. She dragged her lips down your neck, voice trembling with anticipation. "Don’t make me beg for it."

She let the last piece of fabric slip from her body, pooling at her feet, leaving nothing between them. Your breath caught in your throat. Your fingers twitched at your sides, fists clenching, like you were forcing yourself to hold back.

She stepped closer, slow, deliberate, her body impossibly warm as she pressed against you. Taking your hands, she guided them over her bare skin, making you feel her, making sure you had no room to run.

"I want you," she whispered, voice thick with need, her lips brushing against your jaw. "Right now."

Your chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. Your grip on her hips tightened—too tight, like you were fighting yourself. "We shouldn’t," you ground out, voice wrecked, self-control hanging by a thread.

She didn’t give you time to think. Instead, she reached for you again, dragging you closer, aligning their bodies in a way that made your pulse hammer in your skull.

"Then stop me," she murmured. A challenge. A plea.

You should have pulled away.

But instead, your hands moved on their own, fingers digging into her skin, claiming her, dragging her down with you as you gave in.

There was no stopping now.

At first, you moved slowly—too slowly. Your own breath was uneven, your grip on her hips tight, like you were still fighting something deep inside yourself.

But she couldn’t take it. Not like this.

"Faster," she gasped, her voice breaking as she pushed back against you, desperate for more, for everything. "Please—don’t hold back."

Your fingers dug into her skin, body tense, struggling. But then she turned her head, eyes glazed, lips parted, utterly wrecked with need.

That look snapped something inside of you.

Your pace quickened. Your hesitation shattered. The sound of your skins meeting filled the room, her breathy moans turning into shameless cries as she clutched on to you, trembling beneath you.

"More," she begged, voice shaky, wrecked, needy. "Don’t stop—please—"

You didn’t. You couldn’t.

Your grip tightened, your movements rougher, hungrier, as you lost yourself in the way she needed you, the way she clung to you, like she’d fall apart if you even dared to stop.

And God help you, but you wanted this just as much as she did.

Winter was gone—completely lost in the heat, the pleasure, the way you moved against her, inside her. Every touch sent her spiraling deeper, every thrust breaking down whatever restraint she had left. Her fingers gripped on to you, her body shaking, overwhelmed, desperate for more.

"I don’t care," she gasped, voice raw, breathless, her head tilting back in ecstasy. "I don’t care if we’re related—I love this, I love you—"

Her voice cracked as another wave of pleasure crashed over her, her back arching, her nails clawing at his skin. "I’ve always wanted this," she confessed between ragged moans, eyes wild, dark with something dangerous and real. "I don’t care if it’s wrong—just don’t stop!"

Her words hit you like a shockwave, tearing apart whatever was left of your resistance. Your grip on her tightened,your pace turning desperate, reckless, drowning in the way she needed you, the way she clung to you like she never wanted to let go.

Your breathing was ragged, his body trembling as you felt yourself teetering on the edge. Every movement sent a firestorm of pleasure surging through you, every desperate moan from her lips pushing you closer—too close.

Your grip on her hips tightened. You had to stop. You had to pull away.

But then Winter looked back at you.

Her face was flushed, eyes glazed, lips parted as she gasped for air. She was shaking, gripping your arms like she’d fall apart if you let go. And then—

"Inside," she pleaded, her voice breaking, thick with desperation. "Please—I'm on the pill."

Your mind short-circuited. You were already too far gone, but hearing her say that? Seeing the way she needed you?

"Winter," you rasped, your restraint barely holding on.

She didn't let you think. Didn't let you hesitate.

"Please," she whimpered, pushing back against him, her nails digging into his skin, her entire body begging for you. "I need all of you—please—"

Something inside of you snapped.

Your hands gripped her harder, movements turning reckless, desperate, completely lost in her, in the way she wanted this, wanted you.

And in that moment, nothing else in the world mattered.

Your body tensed, every muscle locking up as you finally gave in. A deep, shuddering groan ripped from your throat, your grip on her waist tightening as you poured yourself into her.

Winter gasped, her body jolting as she felt it—felt him. Her legs nearly buckled, her fingers clawing desperately at his arms, at anything to hold herself up. A broken moan escaped her lips, her head tilting back against your shoulder, completely overwhelmed.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Your heavy, uneven breaths filled the air, bodies still locked together, both of you trembling in the aftermath.

Then, finally, the strength in your legs gave out.

Still tangled in each other’s arms, you both stumbled toward the bed, collapsing onto the mattress in a dazed, breathless heap. Bodies sank into the sheets, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened.

What you both had just done.

Winter was the first to speak, her voice barely above a whisper, still breathless. "...Holy shit."

You swallowed hard, your pulse still pounding, your mind spiraling. "Yeah."

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke another word.

Because there was no taking it back.

Your bodies were still tangled, limbs heavy, breath shaky as they lay there, staring up at the ceiling. The air was thick, buzzing with something undeniable, something neither of you could ignore.

Winter was the first to break the silence.

"...Did you like it?" Her voice was soft, almost hesitant, but there was something underneath it—something deeper, something needy.

Your throat felt dry. You swallowed, still trying to steady yourself, but there was no point in lying.

"Yeah," yoy admitted, exhaling slowly. "I did."

Winter turned her head towards yoy, her eyes searching your face, her expression unreadable. A beat of silence passed before she bit her lip and murmured, "...Me too."

Your breath hitched.

Then she shifted, pushing herself up just slightly, her fingers trailing over your skin, hesitant yet deliberate. "Do you still want to?"

Your pulse pounded. She was asking—not just testing you, not teasing, but really asking.

And you should have hesitated. You should have thought about what this meant, what this was.

But instead, you looked at her—at the way she watched you, at the way her body still pressed so close, warm, inviting, familiar.

And yoy whispered the only answer you could.

"...Yeah."

A slow, knowing smile curved her lips.

"Good," she breathed.

And just like that, the tension snapped again.

She kissed you again. Rougher this time. Like she already knew the answer.

And maybe that was the moment he realized—this wasn’t going to stop.

Because it didn’t stop.

Not after that night.

Not after the stolen glances across the room, the accidental touches that weren’t so accidental.

Not after she found excuses to be alone with you—at family gatherings, at your house, in the quiet corners where no one would see.

And he did.

Again.

And again.

AN: This will be the last for this week! Will be busy again!🫶🏻

579 notes · View notes

shitpostingsapphic · 7 months ago

Text

Caitvi headcanons

I've done a lot of serious arcane character analysis the past few days and now I want to take a break from that and do some cute fun little headcanons for caitvi. Let me know if you like them and if I should do more 🥰🥰

The first section will be SFW, I'll mark the NSFW so if you'd like to avoid that you can ❤️

SFW:

Caitlyn always wakes up first. It's a habit she's never outgrown from her time as Commander. Though she no longer suffers from the insomnia she incurred during that time, she still finds herself waking just before sunrise. And it's her favorite time of day, because as the streams of sunlight begin to come in through the window, she gets to watch as they rest on Vi's face and hair, making the pink of her hair glow closer to red. She gets to watch her breath stir the ends of it. Caitlyn also secretly likes the way Vi smells in the morning--a bit musty, a bit like the soap she uses to bathe in before bed. And if she scoots a bit closer to Vi in order to inhale that smell, well, no one is around to watch

Vi, in contrast, is an incredibly heavy and late sleeper. It's nearly lunch when she wakes, now that she's fully settled into her domestic life. And because of this, she's also the last to fall asleep at night. Often, after their *ahem* escapades, Caitlyn is out like a light, and Vi likes to cling to her and look up in her face, almost disbelieving that this beautiful creature is hers, that they are both alive and that she is indeed skin to skin with the woman she loves. So close they almost share a heartbeat.

Caitlyn is stronger than she looks, and she takes great joy in picking Vi up via fireman's carry to tease her. She especially takes pleasure in it because, despite the half hearted protests that Vi emits, she'll always make a remark along the lines of "well at least I have a great view of your ass from here, cait" or "it IS kind of sexy that you're strong enough to pick me up like this".

Vi's picked up cooking now that her life has settled down. It's no Jericho's, in her opinion, but it always brings Caitlyn into the kitchen with a smile, asking what's for dinner this time, as she comes up behind Vi and wraps her arms around her waist, so she figures her cooking can't be too bad.

Caitlyn harbors some insecurity about her worth in regards to Vi for a very long time. She feels as if she won't ever deserve Vi's love after what she's done. This feeling is always magnified on days when the resentment from the Zaunite public makes its way to the Kiramman household via news or telegram or word from the council. Caitlyn withdraws on these days, being short and irritable with Vi. Ever patient, Vi will sit with her, brush her hair away from her face, and kiss her over her eyepatch. "Enough wallowing," she teases. "You're stuck with me, yeah?"

Caitlyn would own a Doberman. No I won't budge on this.

Vi is low-key scared of the Doberman, but the dog doesn't care, and tries to give Vi kisses whenever possible. Vi eventually warms up to said Doberman and calls it her baby.

There is always a vase of violets in their home, at the insistence of Caitlyn.

They both have a shared love language of touch. Oftentimes they communicate through touch. During a fight, Vi will reach out her hand and brush her fingertips against the back of Caitlyn's hand and she'll instantly soften, turning her hand over and entwining their fingers. This makes apologies flow easier.

On that note, Caitlyn loves to brush her fingers through Vi's hair, scratching at the buzzed part on the side of her head. She also brushes Vi's hair often, something Vi has never experienced due to it being so short her whole life. It's a simple pleasure she isn't used to but makes her feel safe and cared for.

NSFW

I've seen a lot of headcanons where Vi has some sort of sexual dysfunction or hesitation to touching and/or being touched, and as someone who experiences a level of this, I don't see it. Me personally, I think sex is very freeing and healing to Vi, especially with Caitlyn. After their first time, she really can't get enough of her. Of course, after they've both been given time to heal from their internal and external wounds incurred from the battle of Piltover.

On that note, any opportunity for Caitlyn to develop an insecurity related to her scarred/lost eye is squashed due to Vi never giving her reason to feel undesirable. Vi is adamant about expressing her undying attraction and desire to Caitlyn, and so Caitlyn never feels shy about her eye when they have sex, whether the eyepatch is on or not.

She does ask about it, though, but only once. Vi answers her very seriously at first, by saying "You're alive, that makes you the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Followed by a smirk and dumb quip something along the lines of "Plus it'll be great for some pirate roleplay."

Service top vi x power bottom caitlyn is canon, but it's not the only dynamic they indulge in.

They make use of the handcuffs. And the spitting. Really they just roleplay that scenario a lot, switching roles depending on their mood.

The first time Caitlyn asked Vi to spit on her again, Vi couldn't stop herself from laughing incredulously. "Didn't know it turned you on that bad. Really?" "Oh shut up, Violet. I was this close to blowing our cover because of you."

Once the initial shock of it has passed, though, it becomes a bit too fun for Vi to indulge Caitlyn and watch as her eyes go glassy.

The first time Caitlyn strapped Vi, her depth perception due to her lost eye worked against her, and instead of sliding home successfully, she missed entirely and fell on top of Vi, which resulted in the both of them laughing. It's something Vi has yet to let Caitlyn live down.

Sex in general is very silly and indulgent and teasing with them. A stark contrast to the very serious and morose and uncertain environment around them. It's freeing, as I stated before. They're free to feel pure joy with each other and it shows up most while they're having sex.

They never have sex angry. It's a safe space for the both of them, and it's never not done in a good headspace.

Vi certified munch is canon

Cait is also a certified munch. Her favorite way to do so is to have Vi ride her face because from there, Vi takes what she wants, and she finds it very cathartic to do that for Vi, to give her a place to take her pleasure and not feel shame.

Caitlyn didn't know she had a hand kink before Vi but apparently she does, but really, can she help herself when now she knows what it feels like to have three of those large fingers inside her?

Caitlyn leans more dominant in the bedroom, but for some reason it's when Vi is fucking her with those fingers, she gets a bit subby, begs a bit more, accepts gladly when Vi presents those fingers to Caitlyn for her to suck off her own cum.

Let me know if you guys would like to see more! 🥰

#vi arcane #arcane #caitvi #caitlyn x vi #vi ar #violyn #caitlyn kiramman #arcane league of legends #arcane lol #arcane headcanon #caitvi headcanon #caitvi fic #headcanon #arcane drabbles

668 notes · View notes

akkaweo-akkaweo · 3 months ago

Text

Favorite things

Jang Wonyoung x Shin Yuna x M!reader

Tags: smut, mutual masturbation, (considerable amount of) fluff

WC: 9.4k

—————

"I know you have a crush on Yuna."

You look up at Wonyoung, intently clacking at her computer on the other side of the table. "I have no idea what you're talking about," you dared to say.

"Sure," she retorted. "Keep denying it."

"Wonyoung," you scoffed, at a loss for words. Because damn, she was correct, and you were terrified.

"What?" Wonyoung cut in, now looking at you intently with a smirk. "Think I wouldn't notice when I'm three feet away from you at most for 9 hours a day?"

"Okay," you reply slowly, treading into the conversation carefully. "What exactly is your proof?"

She cleared her throat before shouting, "YUNA!"

"Whatthefuckareyoudoing?!," you mumble as Yuna's chair rolled up right beside you.

"What's up, Wony?," she said, headphones dangling on her neck.

"Uhhh... nothing. I forgot," Wonyoung replied with a falsely innocent smile.

Yuna gave her a puzzled look. "Oookay? Nice talking then," she responded, before rolling away in her chair and putting her pair of headphones back on. When she had looked more fully engrossed, you shot a dirty glare at Wonyoung.

"What the fuck was that for?!," you exclaimed.

"You are so obvious!," Wonyoung replied with a slap on your hand. "You physically recoiled and froze. You didn't even try to look busy. I saw your ears flush! I bet they're still hot right now, aren't they?"

"That's...," you trail off, rubbing your appreny cold fingers on your evidently warm ears. "Ugh. Fine. Yes, I am crushing on Yuna. So what?"

"Then you should ask her out," she said, the jest in her voice dissipating into encouragement. "Take her on a date with you."

"That's just weird," you shot back. "We just met her."

"So?," Wonyoung tilted her head. "Also, 'just?!' Six months is not 'just met' territory."

You sighed, staring at the ceiling. "I've never done this before, y'know."

"Then now's as good a chance as any," she replied, before her phone started buzzing. "I gotta go. I have to sit in another department's meeting."

"Good luck!," you greeted her, even as she was in a rush.

Before you got back to work, Yuna rolled up back to your side, with a big grin on her face.

"What's with the grin?," you asked, puzzled.

"You like Wonyoung, don't you?," Yuna teased.

"What?!," you exclaimed. "Where'd you get that idea?"

"Answer me first," Yuna retorted, pointing a playful hand-gun to your temple. "Or... I'll tell her."

"Yuna...," you hesitated. Because damn, she was correct, and you were terrified. Again.

"A-ha! Knew it," she exclaimed.

You scratched your head. That's two for two today. "Okay, and how exactly did you 'know' it?"

"Hmm," Yuna gave it some thought. "Well first, the way you two exchange banter, it's like you're best friends."

"I mean, duh, we're workmates," you replied. "But that's not proof I like her."

"On the contrary," she added, "the way you smile at her, and stare at her, and get locked in your conversations with her – that's second, third, and fourth. You can't just stay best friends."

"Maybe I'm just a good listener!," you defended yourself. "Why think right away that we should date?"

"Because," she continued, leaning her elbow on your armrest, "I like to think know the face of a boy who loves someone's company. And you love her company. And her attention. Bet you didn't even see me staring at you guys, didn't you?"

You gulped. "Wait... did you listen to our conversation?"

"Of course not," she reassured, pointing to her headphones. "But the fact you didn't notice means you were stuck in your own little world. You should ask her out!"

"I can't," you groaned. "I've never done this before." Déjà vu.

"Figure it out then!," she said encouragingly. "Maybe think about it for a bit. But you better ask her!" She put her headphones back on and rolled back to her spot, same as before.

You buried your face in your hands. It's one thing to have a workplace crush; it's another thing to have two of them with you in your three-person team. Hiding it all was definitely not an easy task.

It all started with Wonyoung, actually. You both entered the company and your current assignment at the same time. Working around Wonyoung the first few times was difficult solely due to your nerves – she was no-nonsense, wanting to have an answer to every request in as little time as possible. And she kept that composure with a twinkle in her eye and the cutest smirk of accomplishment when you did. But that also meant pressure on you to keep up with her – which you didn't hate, actually.

You were still in your downward spiral of infatuation when a few weeks later Yuna was added in. She was no polar opposite to Wonyoung, but she was definitely a much warmer presence than her; she would fondly hold your hand when asking you for guidance, or "swing by" to catch a quick break from work on her side of the room. But what really caught you was when she was most relaxed in her own world, a very candid, renaissance-like view of her always available when you turned your head in her direction.

It's been six months since you've all met, and the feelings are most definitely not out of your system. If anything, it's gotten worse, today being evidence of that.

About an hour later, Wonyoung came back, face scrunched into a scowl.

"Wony? What's–," you tried to say.

"Yuna. Huddle up," Wonyoung said. Yuna stood up from her chair and sat on the armrest of yours.

Wonyoung, leaned on her arms over the table and head fully bowed, took a few seconds to gain her composure.

"We need to make a marketing deck. By day after tomorrow. The whole thing: collaterals, assets, the works."

"But that's a Saturday. What the hell?!," was all you could react with. Yuna, however, looked a little more disappointed than frustrated.

"Man, I was thinking of seeing my parents this weekend," Yuna tried to say, before again being cut off by Wonyoung.

"I know, guys, don't worry. I came up with something," Wonyoung continued. "It's not going to be fun, but I think we can finish all of this by tomorrow night if we try really hard enough."

"And I assume that entails...," you lead on. Wonyoung heaves a big sigh.

"Yeah... we gotta pull at least one, potentially two, all-nighters," Wonyoung continued, to which everyone – her included – groaned at. However, she lightened up immediately. "Fortunately for us, I got permission to work from home tomorrow. So we can work together at someone's place."

"Maybe you can stay at mine," Yuna offered. "As a goodbye of sorts to the apartment."

"Oh, you're moving out?," you replied.

"And moving in with me," Wonyoung added. "Rent's cheaper if we split it."

"Don't feel so left out," Yuna said, pushing your shoulder. "You're free to visit."

"Y-yeah, sure, though I'd have thought by now you'd be tired of seeing my face everyday," you laughed nervously. If the forces that be played pranks, this was definitely one of them.

"What? I was just about to ask if we could hang out more, like over drinks or something," Yuna commented.

Wonyoung gave you a look, then clicked her tongue at both of you. "We can plan a much-deserved drinking session another time. For now we gotta agree on it. As a team. We got each other, right?"

"Of course!," Yuna said with a big smile.

"Game," you replied.

"You guys are the best," Wonyoung responded, beaming. "Okay! Texting boss now."

"Hey, we can clock out now," Yuna added, while Wonyoung typed up her response. "How about let's meet by 9PM? Have some time to ourselves, go home and get some stuff."

"Sure," you reply, quickly packing everything up. "Gotta get going then."

"Bye!," Yuna waved.

"See you in a bit," Wonyoung replied, moving in to give a cheek-to-cheek hug.

On the bus home, all you could do was rub your face with your hands, groaning at the situation. It wasn't so much the hassle or the work, but purely that you'd be spending the next few nights around the both of them, nonstop. The only consolation was that actually working as a team was fun – you had an easy-to-keep rhythm that got stuff done fast, and that made the work enjoyable.

You felt your heart race, your spine shiver, your chest grow a metaphorical hole. What that all meant, you dare not think about right now.

=====

"Hello, Yuna? I have snacks," you muttered into the intercom. You were on the dot, as agreed.

"Great!," Wonyoung's voice cut in, "just come on up." Guess she was early, typical of her.

When you got there, you found the two on opposite sides of a small rectangular table. Around them were open bags of chips and assorted drinks: juices, colas, and an unopened bottle of wine.

"How long have you been here?," you asked.

"She practically lives here now," Yuna replied. "That's why I don't mind moving in with her."

"You make it sound like I've been here ever since I met you," Wonyoung dismissed her. "I think it's been a few weeks since I was first here. Then I guess I just kept coming here because it's much closer to the office."

"Too small to split though, I assume," you added, looking at the room, a single space with a bed in a far corner and a sizable table right next to a kitchen and sink.

"Way too small for me," she replied. "Come, sit there by the end of the table. There's an extension cord here, get whatever snacks you want."

In the first hour you laid out everything that needed to be done, and after another hour of working, Wonyoung took a quick nap while you and Yuna worked on some graphics. Wonyoung was a light sleeper, so you couldn't talk much, though the faint snoring did give a hint you could talk a bit more than usual.

"How'd you get into graphic design?," you asked.

"Been doing this for family and relatives for a while now," she replied. "When they said they'd stop asking me for free labor if I got a full-time job, I jumped right on it."

"True that," you responded.

When Wonyoung woke up after an hour and a half or so, Yuna decided to take a nap as well, at your prompting. Within minutes she was breathing heavily.

"Seems like you made some progress on the pitch document," Wonyoung remarked.

"Only 'cause we're putting off the actual strategic plan," you replied. "That was gonna be easier when you were awake."

"Fair enough, I'll work on that now then," she said. "What are you doing?"

"Just some research figures," you said. "Felt like they might ask for a breakdown by demographic during the meeting."

"Good idea," she replied.

After about two more hours of working, you were yawning non-stop. "Fuuu-," you yawned, "-uuucking hell, this is insane."

"Hey," Wonyoung held your hand. "Take a nap. I got this."

"Thanks," you whispered, as you lay your head on the table. As you drifted off, you still managed to hear Yuna wake up and the first part of their conversation.

"Oh, how long has he been out?," Yuna asked.

"Just a few minutes," Wonyoung replied. That was the last you caught of their conversation was Wonyoung saying "He kinda looks..." before you dozed off.

When you woke up at 4AM, you found Wonyoung no longer at the table but on the bed, and Yuna asleep at the computer. She was in the middle of editing the last few slides, so you helped finish that up. After you put the final edits on the whole document and a poster no one had worked on yet, your 5AM alarm rang. Everyone in the small room jolted awake.

"Oh shit," Yuna replied. "I fell asleep again."

"Don't worry about it," you reassured, rubbing your eyes. "Just finished it."

"Really?," Wonyoung yawned. "Thank fuck." She dropped to the bed.

"Scoot over," Yuna groaned. "That's my bed." Wonyoung groaned as well as she made space for Yuna, and the two laid side by side, facing each other.

After you closed everything up and made a quick scan of everything you had so far, you closed your laptop and breathed a sigh of relief – for now, at least. You found a note on the back of your laptop, likely from when you were sleeping, from Yuna. "Sleeping bag's by the foot of the bed," it read. True enough, it was there. Better than nothing.

You also found the two in the same position, but more entangled. Their legs were crossed over each other; Wonyoung's hand was laid onto Yuna's neck, and Yuna's hand over Wonyoung's waist.

Only now did you notice their clothes from yesterday: Wonyoung had a set of pajamas on, while Yuna had a pair of shorts and a plain shirt. And they looked... pretty: the way Wonyoung hair was draped over her face, the way Yuna's mouth was somewhat half-open, the smoothness of their skin, the curves of their torsos... You ran to the bathroom, immediately washing your face and slapping your face repeatedly.

"Snap the fuck out of it," you told yourself aloud. "Stop thinking about those kinds of things, or it will get awkward and you won't have friends anymore." You got out, you quietly walked to the sleeping bag and fell asleep, in no time at all.

When you woke up, it was 10AM – 5 straight hours of sleep. Not bad. Both of them were up already, scrolling through TikToks together and giggling.

"Morning," you groaned.

"Hey," Wonyoung replied. "Sleep well?"

"Mmm," you groaned, not exactly a confirmation.

"Sorry," Yuna replied.

"No, sorry, still groggy," you reassured. "I'm alright."

You got up to see a sandwich on the table. "Oh, thanks guys," you remarked. You sat at the table to eat while Wonyoung and Yuna stayed at the bed. "What else do we need to do?," you asked.

"Actually, about that...," Wonyoung began. Yuna's lips were pursed. "So... we're actually done. I kinda just told boss that we needed more time to work on it, without the all-nighter part."

"And that means we have a free day!," Yuna added.

"Wait, but... you said we'd finish by tonight," you clarified.

"Yeah, and I wanted you guys to hop on my master plan without anyone telling me off. Like you," Wonyoung responded.

You scoffed. "Was that supposed to be an insult?" You looked at Yuna. "Were you in on this?"

"She means you might have wanted to stay home instead, silly," Yuna replied. "And for the record, no, she told me while I was making the sandwich."

"Almost woke you up with her squeal when I told her," Wonyoung chided.

"Shut up," Yuna rebutted. "Back to my point. We literally have not gone out with you, like, ever."

Wonyoung snapped her fingers. "Exactly! So, that said, what do you guys wanna do?"

"Ooh, I wanna actually taste that," Yuna began, pointing to the vodka on the table, "and not leave it wasting in my cabinet anymore."

You sighed. "I'm down, but I don't think we should exert ourselves that much. We literally only got half the hours of sleep we should have."

"Point taken," Wonyoung replied. "Maybe you should tell us where to go!"

"Uhh," you trail off. "You sure you want that?"

"Of course!" Yuna replied. "I can't even name one of your favorite things."

You pulled out some unwarranted courage from deep within you. "There's two of them right in front of me," you tease, awkwardly pointing finger guns at both of them. What the fuck, you think to yourself.

"You did not just say that," Wonyoung interjected with a playfully disgusted look.

"Minus points on the delivery, babe," Yuna smirked, "but great response." Something about the nickname made your heart race a little bit faster.

"Thanks?," you replied.

"Fine," Wonyoung groaned, trying to hide a smile. "What's the third?"

=====

You took in a deep breath of air and scouted the area. "Yep, I think this is a great spot," you said. "Let's set up here."

You dropped the plastic bags of food on the wooden table and set up some utensils. You were at a base camp about 2 hours away from the city, though from your house – which you passed by to get all the gear – it was only about two-thirds the journey.

"I can't believe this is so close to your house," Yuna reacted, stretching her legs and arms. "If I lived there I'd be hiking every weekend."

"'Close' is relative," you replied. "But I used to. Now I literally don't have time to do that anymore."

"The sky looks so nice now," Wonyoung replied, twirling in her sundress. "Guess we got here at just the right time."

After ordering some food for lunch at Yuna's, you parted ways to freshen up and take some time to rest. You brought your car to drive by their places, which took some time, but did help make the trip to the camp faster.

"This, ladies, is my third favorite thing in the world," you said, stretching your arms to the sky theatrically. "The sunset."

"It's beautiful," Wonyoung responded. "Good thinking."

The girls started taking turns taking photos of each other, giggling and exchanging remarks as they tried to find their favorite shots. You watched from the table, enamored by their merrymaking.

"I'm starving," Yuna quipped as they walked back to the table. She removed her sweater as she sat down revealing a crop top underneath. "Maybe we can start now?"

"It's early, but sure," you replied. You'd passed by different stores for some grilled meats and other assortments of food – which, as Yuna promised, were perfect to pre-game for the vodka.

You sat on one side of the table while Yuna and Wonyoung sat on the other. Their faces were lit up well by the afternoon sky, what bare makeup they put on making their skin gleam. You pulled out your phone to take a picture of them, and showed it to the pair.

"This picture of us is sooo cute!," Yuna said to Wonyoung. "Can you send it to me?"

"Hold up," Wonyoung stopped Yuna, pulling out an instant film camera. "Use this too." You did your best to replicate the photo and snapped a picture of the pair, which Wonyoung printed out three copies of.

"How about you?," Wonyoung asked. "Let us take a picture of you."

You waved your hands in front of your face. "I'm fine! I go here all the time."

"Shut up and just smile, you dork," Yuna replied, pinning your hands to the table. "Wony, go."

She took a picture, showed it to Yuna, and the two giggled.

"You look amazing here," Yuna responded. "Look!," she showed the screen.

"Okay, fine," you groaned, "this might be the best photo I've had of myself since graduation."

"Then I'll give you a copy!," Wonyoung replied, printing another 3 copies of the photo.

"Oh come on," you said shyly. "That's a bit too much."

"What do you mean?," Wonyoung continued. "This is our first group outing. Gotta memorialize these things."

"Aww, are you shy?," said Yuna, pinching your cheek in jest. You playfully slapped her hand.

"No! I just don't like taking pictures of myself," you retort.

"But I took the picture, not you," Wonyoung chimed. "So take it as a gift. Here, you even get one of both of us!"

You could feel yourself blush as you looked at it, their eyes perfectly twinkling in the sunset light; hopefully that same light masked it. "I'll put this in an oversized picture frame for my sidetable," you replied sarcastically. Wonyoung rolled her eyes and Yuna stuck out her tongue.

You sighed. "You're acting like elementary kids," you remarked. "With actual speaking ability."

"So that means we're friends!," Yuna replied.

"You make it sound like I've contested that," you said.

"No, it's just that this is literally the first time we've hung out," Yuna continued, "and to my knowledge, friends actually hang out."

"Oh yeah, thinking about it, we never hung out even before Yuna joined us," Wonyoung added.

You shrugged. "I don't know, I just thought it'd be weird if I went out with you without knowing you well."

"I mean, that's why we ask people to go out, right?," Wonyoung urged, emphasizing certain words and pointing her eyes to Yuna, who seemed to be oblivious to the gesture.

"Sure," you dismissed her. "C'mon, we gotta eat this before it gets cold."

If your social battery were to ever undergo some sort of diagnostic test, this would be it. Yuna, surprisingly, is very chatty, having lots of stories and thoughts to share. Wonyoung, just as surprisingly, isn't as chatty, only interjecting to what Yuna says rather than to initiate discussions on her own. But you, whether for better or for worse, were prompted repeatedly by the two to talk.

It wasn't that you didn't want to share – if anything, the talking made you feel lighter as you let go of more stories and anecdotes of your own – but watching them smile, and laugh, and just beam, was mesmerizing. They were mesmerizing. You grabbed your phone again and made your picture of them your wallpaper.

"You're just staring at us," Yuna laughed.

"No, just listening," you evade, "staring is different." Yuna rolled her eyes.

Wonyoung's phone went off. "Damn, it's been a whole hour already. It didn't even feel like 20 minutes!," she exclaimed.

"Traffic's gonna pick up at this time," you added. "Better head out. There's a convenience store near my place."

Unlike the car ride going to the campsite, where at one point both Yuna and Wonyoung had both fallen asleep, now they were belting out songs from a playlist. You joined in where you knew the lyrics too. Fortunately having dodged most traffic, you finally got to your place.

"Make yourselves at home! Only reason this place is bigger than Yuna's is because it's outside the city."

"Yeah, no shit," Yuna replied. "We should move in with you."

You laughed nervously. "While I would entertain the thought, I think this is still too small for Wony."

"Hey, I'm not a fucking princess," she huffed. "It's not my fault I need a lot of shit."

"Like a princess," you teased, grabbing Wonyoung's hand and playfully kissing her invisible ring. Yuna shot you a look, which you ignored.

"Ew," Wonyoung shook her hand. "Don't treat me like I'm your boss, you shit."

"I'm kidding!," you defended yourself, though Wonyoung slapped your arm with a smirk.

"I know, we're just playing," she whispered. "You're so cute when you're defensive."

There that word was again: cute. These girls were going to give you a heart condition by how many times they've made it beat faster.

"Why is your house so... bare?," Yuna asked. "Do you not like, collect anything?"

"I mean, I do, but you can't exactly display Pokémon cards," you replied. "And I have a PC in my room."

"Fair enough," she responded.

"So... is it drinking time?," Wonyoung prompted, pulling out the full, menacing bottle of vodka.

"Full disclosure, ladies," you warned, "but this is the first time I'm drinking vodka."

"God, did you even have a life before today?," Yuna remarked, pouring one shot out for you. "Try it on its own first, then I'll teach you how to drink it."

You placed the glass to your mouth, and you could feel it cooling your lips before you even put it in your mouth, When you did, all you could do exhale loudly and make a face.

"Holy FUCK, that's different," you exclaimed. "I've had whiskey before but nothing like this."

As the three of you bonded over the alcohol, you felt yourself getting dizzy; by the end of it, Yuna was laid down on your lap, while Wonyoung leaned her head on your shoulder.

"How frequently do you go to bars to have learned this?," you groaned to Yuna.

"I taught her," Wonyoung chimed in, "sorta. Though that was with soju, not fuckin' vodka."

"They're, like, kinda the same, though," Yuna quipped.

"They are very much not the same, Yuna," you retorted. "Well, thank God I learned from you and not some other personal mishap."

Yuna groaned. "You are such a baby boy." The nickname was making you feel things, and you were fighting tooth and nail to keep it subtle.

Wonyoung wrapped her arm over your shoulder. "Are you really the older one among us three? Because all day it's as if we took care of you more than you took care of us."

You could feel the alcohol making you lose some of your hesitations, and you played along with it. "Ignoring that 'taking care' sounds so parental," you said, "thank you. Seriously. For today."

"Aww, babe," Wonyoung replied, "you're so sweet." She started stroking the back of your head with her hand; you felt fuzzy right where her hand was.

"Oooh, he's blushing," Yuna taunted. "You like Wony, don't you?"

Uh oh. You feel like – no, you know – you've been here before.

"What?!," you stammered, at a loss for words. "I don't know, this stuff's really strong," you lifted your shot glass.

Wonyoung elbowed you. "C'mon, it's a joke."

"No it's not," Yuna said, a bit more worked up. "Look at his ears, Wonyoung! That's no alcohol flush."

"I-I–," you stammered again, "that's quite the assumption–"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Yuna knelt up and sat right beside you, propping herself on her arm. "Wony, he likes you. He's been staring at you, like, the whole day, and he's been blushing every time you called him babe. There. Now you don't have to admit it." She flicked your arm in playful annoyance. "You're so adorably frantic I could just pinch your cheeks all the time!"

"Wait," Wonyoung reacted, now fully sitting up. "Me? I was waiting for him to admit to you that he liked you! And hello?! He was staring at you! Not–," she hesitated. "Wait. Did you–"

"Okay, okay! I like both of you, okay?," you began defensively. "But I didn't wanna make things awkward because I literally just met both of you and you're literally the only friends I have right now!" You felt your head sink between your shoulders, your hands up and tucked in like you were surrendering.

There was a very audible silence – likely the ringing from the alcohol – that felt a lot longer than it probably was. But Wonyoung and Yuna shot each other some faces, like they were communicating in some sort of code. Then, out of nowhere, Yuna made a loud chortle, and the pair burst out laughing. You expected the worst.

"Wait," Wonyoung said, tears almost in her eyes. "This is so funny."

"Do you wanna–," Yuna hesitated, a huge grin stretched across her face, "'Cause, like, I–"

"No, I got it, whoo," Wonyoung collected herself. "Ahem. So. While you were asleep, when we, y'know, set up this plan to go out today, we kinda both agreed that you were cute."

The buzzing in your head stopped. Was that... an admission?

"But Yuna here," continued Wonyoung, furrowing her brows at Yuna, who stuck out her tongue again, "kept hinting you liked someone. And I offered that we'd figure out tonight–,"

"With truth or dare!," Yuna butted in.

"Yeah!," Wonyoung continued. "We would have asked who you were into in the office or if you were dating anyone."

Entertaining your morbid curiosity, you asked, "but both of you knew I liked the other?"

"That's the funniest thing!," Yuna replied. "I didn't know Wony was talking about me!"

"And I didn't know she was hinting at me!," Wonyoung added, "'cause we all we told each other was that we had an idea!"

"I was supposed to confront you about Wony when we got to that point," Yuna whined. "But you're just so frustratingly cute," gesturing at pinching your cheeks with both hands, "because you were trying so hard to pretend!

Wonyoung shot Yuna a glare. "Bitch, that was your plan? I was planning that too!"

"Oh my god, you're such a fucking liar," Yuna playfully pushed Wonyoung. "Says you!," she retorted. The two kept giggling, and you were in the middle of it watching everything... collapse? It didn't quite feel like things were falling apart.

"I–I don't know what to say," you remarked. "My head is spinning and my chest hurts and... fuck, you two are so pretty when you laugh," you blurted. The two grinned.

"I think we figured that out," Wonyoung reassured, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. You felt your skin flush again – no, burn – right where she did.

"You make him blush so bad, Wony," Yuna teased, also giving you a kiss on your other cheek, and laughing at your reactions with Wonyoung.

Before you know it, the two were a giggling mess, planting kiss after kiss all over your face. All you could do, or felt like doing, was keeping your eyes closed as they overwhelmed your senses. Wonyoung still scratched your hair; Yuna held a hand to your cheek. By the end of their onslaught, all you could do was laugh with them – your emotions a mess in your head – until you started tearing up a bit. "Sorry, sorry," you muttered, "it's just–"

Wonyoung fully cupped your head with her other hand. "Aww, don't cry!," she fawned. "God, you're so fucking cute."

"You've been saying that the whole day!," you whined to her, still laughing. "And it keeps making me feel tingly."

"That's what a crush is, dumbass," Wonyoung teased, wiping a stray tear in your eye with her finger.

"I know!," you retorted. "But you can't blame me if this is like, the best day of my life so far. You're both really, really pretty, and I really want to spend more time with you, and–"

You were cut off by Yuna tightly grabbing the side of your body. "Calm down," she reassured, kissing your cheek again. Wonyoung also hugged you from her side. You draped your arms over the two fully wrapping their petite frames, into a warm hug. The two never stopped their laughs for a second.

"Thanks for telling us," Wonyoung said, and you felt the cavity in your chest dissipate; a resolution, of sorts. The two laid their heads on your chest, the three of you breathing in silence.

"This feels nice," Wonyoung said softly, your arms wrapped around their shoulders. Yuna hummed in agreement.

You talked things out a bit more – mostly whens and whys, about moments and reasons. All the while, the two never left your sides, hands still on your abdomen with the occasional prod or slap.

After a few moments of sustained quiet, Yuna broke the silence. "I have an unhinged, very intrusive thought."

She paused for a while, no one daring to urge her. After a good few seconds, Yuna continued.

"I'm like... really horny."

Wonyoung let out a loud laugh. "Fuck, where'd that come from?"

Yuna sat up again, her shoulder on yours, leaning over until her face was mere inches away from yours. "'Cause all day I've wanted to pounce on his cute little face." She giggled, touching the tip of your nose. "And now that I have, I kinda wanna keep doing it."

Wonyoung did the same, both their hands on your chest and their full weight pushing down on your shoulders. "You know, I was just thinking the same thing," she cooed. "You beat me to it."

Underneath the flurry of emotions you just felt in the past minutes, Yuna was right: it's been days since you rubbed one off, and here you were, horny with a pair of girls just as horny for you. The thought alone made blood rush down to your pants.

Yuna pulled your head to face her, saying, "I bet he feels the same way too." She stared at you, her eyes narrowed, half from the drowsiness of alcohol, but definitely half bedroom eyes. Then she licked her lips and winked; you felt your cock twitch, almost involuntarily and without hesitation. Fuck.

Wonyoung then pulled Yuna's face towards her. "Let's make sure, though." The two kissed each other – not a makeout, but a single, slow, sensual one. Your breathing was obviously deeper, and your pants noticeably tighter.

"So," Yuna teased, "do you want this?" She tracing circles on your chest with Wonyoung. "We wanna hear it from you."

Wonyoung's arm, now over your head, started stroking the top of your hair again. "Tell us if you want this, baby boy." Your breath audibly shivered at the pet name.

"I–," you tried to speak up, though the girls wouldn't let up to give you space to breathe and do so.

"What's that, baby boy?," Yuna said right in your ear, causing you to yelp just a bit. "Shiiit, he likes that, doesn't he?"

The two began peppering your face with kisses again, each one leaving the same hot, burning sensation on your skin before turning cold from their saliva. This time, you could tell their lips were coated in drool, the kind one makes when aroused.

"Say it, baby," Wonyoung urged.

"Fuck," you groaned, "you're both so hot."

"We know," Yuna replied, her hand cupping your groin, right over your balls. "This gave that away." Your hips jolted forward, and Wonyoung joined in by pressing a hand down right over your shaft, held down by your pants. You let out a moan, and the girls bit their lips.

"Say you want us, and we're yours," Wonyoung added

"I like you, Wonyoung," you said aloud, "and I like you, Yuna."

"Hmm, nope," Yuna taunted. "Say you want us." The girls didn't let up with their kissing, laughing each time you tried, and failed, to form a coherent sentence.

"Come on, baby boy," said Wonyoung. "You can do it."

You groaned loudly. "Fuck, I want you both, so bad."

The pair began working their lips past your face, nipping at your earlobes, behind your jaw, right on your neck. You hitched your breath, your hips bucking forward when they hit sensitive parts – still resisted by their hands, slowly working your jeans off you. A slow zipper pull here, a slow unbuttoning there, until your underwear was the only thing holding their hands back from you.

As they slid off you, they urged you to remove your shirt, and you obliged; in no time was your abdomen coated in the glistening sheen of spit and kisses, going lower and closer to the garter of your underwear. You tried to stray your hands to the top of their heads, but Yuna caught one of them before you could. "Us first, baby boy," she purred.

Once they reached your cock, they kissed your shaft through your underwear, the feeling of their moist lips only made tantalizingly evident by the warmth of their breath. They paused again, their faces and their quickened breathing looming just over your manhood.

Wonyoung glanced over to Yuna, biting her lip. "I think he has a lot of feelings to release tonight, Yuna."

"All over our faces?," Yuna hummed.

"Mmm, dripping over our pretty little faces, right baby boy?," Wonyong teased. Yuna licked her lips in excitement.

"You're really good at talking dirty, Wony," Yuna remarked. "You make me wanna touch myself."

"Maybe he wants to watch us do that," Wonyoung replied. "Do you wanna watch us?" You nodded.

The pair then let go of you, sitting up straight again. "Watch," Yuna prompted, and she grabbed Wonyoung's face and started making out with her. The two slowly undid each other's clothes: Yuna let Wonyoung take off her crop top and leggings, while she slid off the straps of Wonyoung's dress.

As they started kissing deeply, you could see their tongues wrestle within their mouths; their hands glided towards each others' petite breasts, each grabbing a handful. Watching them, your hand started gliding over your underwear gripping your shaft through them; Yuna caught you in the act.

"Go ahead, touch yourself. Just don't forget to give it to us," she taunted.

You got up on your sofa and threw down to the floor some pillows you had. "If you're gonna stay down there and touch each other," you gasped, "at least make yourselves comfortable."

Wonyoung gave you a warm smile as Yuna fixed the pillows. "You're so thoughtful, baby."

You overheard Yuna whisper to Wonyoung, "Girl, I've never done this before." Wonyoung playfully slapped Yuna's arm. "Trust the process," she reassured. They laid down on the pillows and opened themselves up, layering their arms over each other to allow them to touch each other. In their position, they had to lean forehead to forehead, the pair still giggly with their situation.

You slid your hand into your underwear fully, pushing it down your legs until it pooled by your feet. The feeling of your cold hands on your hard shaft made you throw your head back.

Wonyoung, seeing your move, grabbed Yuna's face and started to make out with her, their moans muffled into each other's mouths. The formerly silent room was now occupied with the heavy air of sweat and sex, and a perfectly coordinated symphony of gasps and profanities echoing up to the ceiling.

The two broke their staring contest to glare at you, mouths agape – not disgusted or angry, but longing and hungry. Yuna's leg was almost fully in the air, grinding against Wonyoung's hand; Wonyoung's hand, free as she laid on the pillows, grabbed a fistful of her breast, Yuna's hand wildly flicking her clit.

"Fuck, Yuna," Wonyoung started, but barely found herself able to continue her thought.

"God, Wony, fuuu...," Yuna continued, groaning from between gnashed teeth. Wonyoung dove into Yuna's neck, releasing all of her growling.

Your already steady stroking was getting faster as you chased your ecstasy. In brief moments you felt your hips buck forward as they moaned together, or felt your abdomen crunch forward under the twitching of your cock. You groaned behind clemched teeth and gasped for air as you neared your climax, yet desperate to keep it at bay.

"Fuck I'm so close," Wonyoung continued, repeating the words over and over. "Please I'm so close, fuck I wanna cum so fucking bad..."

"Together," Yuna begged her, "you finger me so good, just like that, I'm gonna..."

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!," Wonyoung cried out. Yuna's groans turned into squeals, into a silent, breath-held scream. You could hear the already audible squelching get louder as they finished each other off, their faces contorted into lustful agony.

"Fuck that's it, just like that," you muttered. "I'm so fucking close."

Yuna and Wonyoung, though still catching their breaths, knelt in front of you, rubbing their hands up your thighs, tantalizingly close to your cock.

Yuna's attention was completely on your dick. "Fuck, it looks so good," she said under her breath.

"Show him what you wanna do then," Wonyoung urged, offering her still creamy fingers to Yuna. "Tease him."

Yuna held on to Wonyoung's wrist as she licked it on each side, base to fingertip. She used the sides of her tongue like a shovel, guiding the fluids up to the edge, before inserting just the first digits of her fingers in her mouth. She kept her lips tight as she cleaned it up, pooling it all over her tongue.

Without words exchanged, Wonyoung did the same with Wonyoung's drenched fingers. She inserted each finger in her mouth all the way to the end, lapping up all the squirt that coated Yuna's fingers, before also showing off her tongue. A drop of saliva nearly dripped out, which she hastily aimed over your cockhead. You paused your stroking, and the girls spat onto the top. With lubrication for your hand, you felt your load starting to well up at the base of your groin.

"Hey Yuna, let's move a bit closer," Wonyoung invited. The pair moved up closer between your legs, their arms pressing down on your thighs. Their faces were so close to your groin that their breaths could be felt around your balls. Wonyoung made sure to pull Yuna in close, placing an arm around her, such that their cheeks were pressed on each other. The sight of their faces – and their lips – so close to each other was the last nail in the coffin.

"God you're so fucking pretty, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!," was all you could warn before a huge rope shot onto Wonyoung's forehead, another thick rope on Yuna's cheek and lips, alternating pumps between them. You emptied a day's worth of cum all over them, coating their faces with strings of white. The pair grinned and hummed in satisfaction.

Yuna was the first to start lapping up everything from Wonyoung's face, before she did the same. As they cleaned up each other's cheeks, noses, and lips, their mouths were almost full; when Wonyoung began to kiss Yuna again, drops of the mixed spit and cum dripped off the sides of their mouths. They both went up to your cock and spat on it again, taking turns, one at a time, until it was drenched in the slimy mixture. The cold feeling of the spit easily made you erect

"Still so hard for us, huh?," Yuna remarked, making a light slap to your dick and marveling at your erection. "Our turn."

The two climbed up on the sofa, one on each side, wrapping a leg over yours. Yuna began stroking you while Wonyoung watched, mouth agape. Your dick was already sensitive, and you tried – and failed, because they had locked their legs around yours – to stop squirming and bucking.

"Aww, baby boy," Wonyoung jeered, right up in your ear, "so sensitive already? You can do it. Cum again for us." She opened her hand by the side of your cock, prompting Yuna to grab onto it and slowly jerk you off together, their hands forming a tight, slimy grip on your shaft.

Their stroking started getting faster and faster, their hands lubricated by your cum. The feeling of their fingers rubbing around your head, slamming into your hips, left you in shambles. You could barely perk your head up; using their free hands, Yuna stroked your hair, while Wonyoung rubbed your cheek affectionately, running her thumb across your lips.

"You look so cute like this, baby boy," Yuna whispered. "And your dick looks so good."

"Your cum tasted so good, baby boy," Wonyoung teased. "How about you, Yuna?"

"I would love to have more," Yuna replied. "Do it. Cum for us. Feed us."

"If you really want both of us, you have to cum for us again," Wonyoung added. "We know you want to."

By now your groans were more of a desperate, overwhelmed panting, as you ground your teeth hard to resist the urge to retreat from their quickened stroking.

"Agh, fuck, fuck, AHH!," was all you could say as the sensitivity clouded your thoughts, seeing only their faces longingly begging for your cum. You let out a single loud shout as you came a second time, this time less cum and more squirt (men could do that?!) that you could barely control yourself from releasing. The girls laughed as they saw the cum drip all over their hands, still stroking until your legs shook uncontrollably.

Wonyoung took Yuna's hand and lapped up all the fluids dripping along the back of her hand; Yuna did the same. When they had their fill, they leaned over your chest for a final kiss, smiling at each other as they swallowed everything up.

The two wound down back where you started, planting light kisses around your face. Behind your still closed eyes, you could hear your collective heaving as you caught your breaths, still in silence.

"Good boy," she purred in your ear. You felt a tingle climb up your back. "You did so well."

Yuna traced your jaw with a single finger. "You looked so cute a while ago," she teased. "Does my baby like being called cute?

"Our baby boy," Wonyoung clicked her tongue. "Unless you don't wanna share."

"Slip of the tongue, sheesh," Yuna scoffed. "We'll share him as much as he wants."

Wonyoung kissed your forehead. "What do you want to do now, babe?"

You felt a sudden rush in your knees, an urge to do something more. You let go of your hesitations and let your body move on its own. You got off the couch and knelt in front of them.

"Let me eat you out," you said, no niceties added. The two started breathing excitedly and biting their lips.

"You wanna taste us, baby boy?," Wonyoung asked. You nodded.

"You go first, Wony?," Yuna asked.

"Fuck, you first," she laughed, still a bit out of breath. Yuna stretched her legs, still very much wet from your ordeal. You planted a kiss right above her folds, making Yuna gasp.

You dove in and the tang of sweat and squirt fully coated your tongue on the first lick. You weren't quite sure what you were doing, but Yuna grabbed your hair and guided you.

"Higher up," she said, moaning and pulling your head in deeper when you found the right flap of skin. "FUCK, just like that," she affirmed.

You swirled your tongue around at a steady pace, Yuna's moaning a metronome for your licking. You kept going as she shoved your face in more aggressively; you found the right spot as you flicked your tongue on her swollen clit fast enough to start straining your jaw.

"Oh yes, oh yes, just like that, you're so good, baby boy," she squealed. "Fuck I'm so close already!"

"Look at me, Yuna," you mumbled, and she looked up, her mouth still agape. "Cum for me," you said, muffled while your tongue was still stuck inside of her.

Yuna came with a single, loud whine; she arched her body up, trembling as she rode your face, still held tight in her hand. She let out a heavy sigh as she slowly came down from her climax, her whimpers slowly getting softer.

You looked over at Wonyoung, who had been touching herself to Yuna's orgasm – and looked like she was deep into her own climax. "Fuck that was hot," she commented, "I'm already close."

You started crawling towards her. "Cum all over my face too, please," you replied, as you dug your tongue into her folds, making Wonyoung whelp. You made sure to maintain eye contact just like with Yuna, and Wonyoung held it all the same.

Wonyoung whined as she grabbed on to her breasts, occasionally petting your head with the other. She instinctively had bursts where she'd pull away, but you clung on to her tightly. Though slow, you started licking upwards, like digging out her clit, and Wonyoung's moans climbed in intensity.

"Fuck, you're so good, keep doing that, fuck," Wonyoung exclaimed, "I'm gonna cum!" She let out a soft, high-pitched squeal behind pursed lips, squeezing her legs together and trapping your head in between them. You pushed forward against her resistance, making sure you rode her high, until she pushed you with her hands.

"Fuck, that's enough, holy shit," she cried out, her chest heaving from her climax. Yuna lazily watched, a hand playing with her nipples through her shirt.

You grabbed your shirt and wiped your drenched, spit-covered mouth before climbing back on the couch. You outstretched your arms on either side, prompting the two to move in closer and cuddle. Come here," you urged, and once again, you were back where you three started.

You rubbed their shoulders and back, one in each arm, and gave a kiss to each one's forehead. You hesitated immediately after, though; you weren't anything special to them, maybe you shouldn't be so... intimate.

Wonyoung then held your hand when you stopped. "Keep doing that," she reassured, and you resumed what you could only describe was aftercare.

You leaned over to Wonyoung and gave her a slow and tender kiss on the lips. Yuna started kissing your hand, as if calling for attention. You turned to her and gave her a kiss as well. Wonyoung kissed your hand too, rubbing her free hand all over your chest, sometimes intercepting Yuna's and feeling up her forearm.

The three of you repeated this dance of hands and lips for a while, until everyone slowed down significantly. Yuna smiled at you with eyes heavy. "You're so cute, baby boy," she cooed.

"He is, isn't he, Yuna?," Wonyoung added, her voice low. You felt that tingly feeling again, and it felt nice.

"Maybe we should move to an actual bed, ladies?," you asked.

Wonyoung whined a little. "But we're so comfy here," she said. "Aren't you?"

You gave Wonyoung a smile. "Just a second then," you replied. You tried to wipe down Yuna and Wonyoung's legs with your shirt, and in as few big movements as possible, you pulled up a blanket bunched up to the side of Yuna and draped it over all three of you. Even if everyone was still a mess and very much naked, you decided it wasn't worth ruining this moment to fuss over – it didn't take long for everyone to fall asleep.

When morning struck, everyone was still frozen in their positions: Yuna, one arm draped over your chest; Wonyoung, curled up and still barely holding on to your hand; and you, arms still around them, and very much hung over.

You shuffled a bit and the girls moved around as well, though miraculously not waking them up as you stood up. You grabbed some pillows on the floor and got them to lie their heads on them. You finally put your pants back on, and hobbled your way to the kitchen to try and prepare something. There wasn't much: just some oatmeal and frozen waffles, which you prepared regardless of the niceties.

You brought the tray of assorted goods to the couch, before moving back to the kitchen to make some coffee. You could hear groaning and the shifting of weight on the couch.

"Morning, ladies," you called out. No response, but you heard the clinking around of the plates. Your head was pounding less, but still uncomfortable. Still, you pushed on, taking the first coffee for yourself, helping ease the discomfort. Before you showed yourself to them, you ran to your room to grab a shirt.

As you came back, you found them seated up, the blanket neatly covering them up shoulders down. Wonyoung cupped the bowl of warm oatmeal close, and Yuna gingerly hled a waffle in her hands. You put down the coffees and sat in between them again, crawling into the blanket with them.

Everyone ate in silence, probably the hangover, likely the hunger, but definitely still piecing together what happened.

Wonyoung was the first to cave. "Do you really eat your oatmeal plain?"

"Try this," you muttered, getting up to grab the jar of cinnamon sugar on the tray. Wonyoung took a single teaspoon and sprinkled it over the oatmeal. After a spoonful, she grabbed another.

Yuna scooted up closer to you, leaning on your shoulder. "Last night was nice. Thank you," she said.

"Aww, you got Yuna all affectionate again," Wonyoung remarked, "but she's right. I enjoyed last night. Did you?"

You nodded, still at a loss for how to proceed. Wonyoung looped an arm around your hand, still holding on to her oatmeal.

After another quick round of silence, Yuna quipped. "I never would have thought you'd be so good with your tongue." Wonyoung almost spat out her oatmeal, laughing with a nod.

"Would you believe me if I said that was my first time?," you replied. The two audibly gasped.

"No fucking way," Wonyoung replied, slapping your leg. "You're telling me you made me cum like that on your first try?!"

"Second try!," Yuna butted in, correcting her. "But still, what the fuck. How much porn do you watch?!"

"What?! Excuse you! I don't watch that much porn...," you rebutted. "Though... I guess I learned a thing or two. Maybe I can surprise you a second time with... my hands?"

Yuna held her breath and bit her lip. "God, stop making me horny for you," Yuna responded with a light poke to your ribcage. "You're too cute to just be horny around all the time."

There the word was again: cute. With all the lust out of your system, you felt the same bubbling, tingling feeling welling up in your chest in full force.

"Told you she thought you were cute," Wonyoung chided, "and here you were worrying about going on a date with her!"

"I literally told you to go out with me more," Yuna pouted at you. "But no, you wanted to go out with Wony."

"Aww," Wonyoung teased, for the first time sarcastically. "Is someone jealous he might have a favorite?"

"Ugh, says you," Yuna taunted. "Look at you, calling him babe all day yesterday."

"Girls," you tried to interject.

"You started it!," Wonyoung retorted.

"Nah, you just wanna keep him for yourself, don't you?," said Yuna.

"What? No," Wonyoung replied, though the dismissiveness was barely convincing. "But, if you aren't taking him, I will."

You cleared your throat. "Um, ladies! If I may..." you started. Wonyoung now moved closer, wrapping her arm around yours.

"I don't... want things to be awkward," you continued. "And I don't want you guys to like... fight. Over... me?"

Wonyoung held a hand to your cheek, warming it up. "Hey, we're just kidding! We wouldn't fight, most definitely not over you."

"Don't take that the wrong way," Yuna butted in. "I think you're cute, but I wouldn't mind hanging out with you more first. Over drinks, to the mall. Get to know you more."

"I also think you're really nice to be around," Wonyoung added, "and would also love to go out with you. But like... on actual dates, if you get what I mean." She leaned her head on your shoulder.

"Awww," Yuna teased, mocking Wonyoung, who shushed her. "I mean, I don't see a problem with you having him, Wony," Yuna continued. "Though maybe I would like to ask for permission to... borrow him, sometimes."

"I would love to share him with you, Yuna," Wonyoung replied, a little mischievously. Yuna laughed under her breath. "I'm not clingy. Just randomly needy," Wonyoung added.

By now, blood was rushing to your head, your ears still hot with that indescribable feeling, that cavity-on-your-chest sensation on full

blast. But Yuna and Wonyoung simultaneously went up to your cheeks to plant a light peck, and you felt the cavity go away, now just a warm fuzzy feeling again. "See? Peace on earth," Wonyoung reassured.

"Don't get too excited now," Yuna remarked, flicking your thigh and drawing attention to the erection you tried to ignore the whole time.

"Oh come on, Yuna," Wonyoung rebutted. "Maybe our baby boy here is just excited with our little arrangement, aren't you?" You groaned at the pet name.

"Can we maybe save that exclusively for the bedroom?," you chided. "It does make me horny, for the record."

"Nope," Wonyoung replied excitedly. "You're my – our – baby boy."

"You really like being called that?," Yuna asked, stroking the top of your head. "You're literally older than us."

You felt yourself physically shrink. "Only by a few months!," you retorted. "But... is it be weird if I said I liked it if you kept patting my head like that?"

"Not at all," Wonyoung replied, kissing your cheek again. "You're so cute."

"Kinky little shit," Yuna slapped your thigh. "But I'm into it."

All conversation ceased when Wonyoung's cellphone rang. She let go of everything to reach for the table. "Hello?," Wonyoung began. After a few thank yous, okays, and will dos, she hung up.

"Well guys, some news," Wonyoung said, everyone's breaths held. "We have another project, a brand shoot."

"When's it due?," you responded.

"End of the week, don't worry, we got time," Wonyoung replied. "But... we get to go to a beach resort!" Yuna clapped her hands excitedly.

"Guess that makes it worth the trouble then," you remarked. "It'll be a nicer place to work."

"With nicer views," Wonyoung added.

"And nicer beds," Yuna sighed.

You all paused, a single shared thought slowly forming between the three of you.

"So... your fingers?," Yuna teased.

"Can't wait, baby boy," Wonyoung cooed.

"Stop," you replied, a smirk plastered on your face.

—————

A/N: for the first time in a few years after lurking and reading, i finally finished something new. hoping i can actually finish a few more ive had drafted for a while now. 加油 or something like that

#kpop smut #girl group smut #ive smut #wonyoung smut #itzy smut #yuna smut #male reader

406 notes · View notes

comicaurora · 6 months ago

Note

A bit of a strange question, but if there were any of your videos you were to "remake" today for any reason (ex: you feel like you misrepresented the original text or spread misinformation), which would it be and why? None of them is a perfectly valid answer

Again: bit of a strange question, but I've been thinking about my own creations and how I could have done so much better with some of them, but I also know that is a sign of my growth and constantly chasing "what if I did this instead" isn't always healthy for nurturing a creative mindset, and I was wondering what your opinion might be as a Creator of Things with a bit more experience than I

There's been a few trope talks where I've thought later of other angles I could've explored that might warrant sequels or part 2s, but I don't dislike any of the summaries enough to justify a rework.

I always find "I could've done this better if I made it now" to be a bit of a fallacy. I'm only better at making things now because I made all those earlier things. If I knew everything I'd learn from making a project before I started the project, it wouldn't come out the same.

I think when it comes to the "rework remake perfect" instinct, it helps to zero in on what the impulse is really grounded in. In my experience, more often than not, it's not actually about making the art better, except incidentally. It's usually about showing that you are better. It's demonstrating your competence and your higher standards and your skills, and more importantly it's overwriting the proof that you were once less than perfect. If people look at your old work and think that's all you're capable of, they'll be judging you poorly!

If that's the motivator, it's a very unhelpful one. You can't control for being harshly or incorrectly judged. It's a fruitless effort to stave off potentially upsetting outdated criticism, and it's not even going to work. Fear of critique is an unreliable and untrustworthy motivator.

If it really is about making the art itself better, perfecting your magnum opus with your newly leveled-up skills, that's a little more solid. But from where I'm standing, it's always better to use those skills to make something new instead of polishing something old. The older, unpolished work has already acquired its audience that finds it appealing for reasons that might never occur to you. Trying to bury or overwrite it just deprives that audience of the thing they like, and maybe makes them feel bad for having liked it in the first place. Also, usually when you look back on the older work, you'll conclude that the problem is everything and it'll need to be torn down and started from scratch. I know when I revisited the first three chapters of the comic, when I let my critic brain spin up, it wasn't shading or lineart I wanted to fix - it was panel composition, overall pacing, the entire structure of the chapters as a whole. I would've had to make them all over again to be happy with them, and they wouldn't be the same story by the end.

I've been thinking a lot about the Discworld through this lens lately. It ended up over 40 books long, but everyone agrees that the first two are not what you should start with, because they're the worst ones. They're entirely parodic, purely referential of at-the-time major fantasy series, and borderline mean-spirited in places. If you haven't read Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser and Dragonriders of Pern, you're not gonna understand like a full 50% of The Colour Of Magic.

It's clear that when he started in on them, Pratchett was entirely focused on taking the piss out of a genre he found mostly shallow and unimpressive. But the Discworld wouldn't leave his head, and everything he made fun of he clearly eventually found himself overthinking. He'd make little one-off jokes in the early books about Dwarves having no women and a hundred words for gold, and then twenty books later he'd have a Dwarf gender revolution make waves across the Disc, and then he'd write Thud!, a book that delves deeper into the nuances of Dwarf societal structure than Tolkien ever did.

If you look for them, there are continuity errors everywhere in Discworld. In his introductory book, Carrot defused a dwarf bar full of rowdy brawlers by guilting them all into writing to their poor lonely mothers back home. Shortly thereafter, Carrot will be outraged at the mere concept of an openly female dwarf. Pratchett even eventually wrote Thief of Time, a book that loosely explains that the Disc makes no sense because history has been broken and put back together incorrectly twice, and therefore any continuity errors are because of that.

He's the writer. He could've gone back and fixed it, edited the reprints to be less disruptively discontinuous with the later books. Instead he continuously moved forward and allowed the world he made to grow without cutting it off from its roots. And because he didn't bury his older, far worse work, we have the privilege of following the Disc's evolution from the very start, and seeing how this shallow, stock fantasy world parody became something incredibly rich and complex without ever pretending like its early installments never happened.

Anyway, that's why I think it's better to move forward. You make more good stuff that way.

#asks #not aurora #writing stuff

505 notes · View notes

daryltwdixon · 6 months ago

Text

Teach You IV

Summary: Daryl can’t seem to get ahold of himself after the night you spent together. For days, you're all he can think about—your voice, your touch, the way you've unleashed a part of him he never knew existed. Nothing else matters, nothing else feels right, and when he sees you now, he knows he’s coming back for more. Always.

warnings: smut, MDNI, dirty talk, Daryl is a man possessed, pinv, oral, fingering, Daryl's POV

a/n: the amount of messages I've gotten about this fills my little heart with so much joy, you guys!!! thank you for loving what I do :')

not super proofread! sorry! will check later

The late afternoon bathes the room in golden light, casting soft shadows as Daryl watches her. She’s standing there, completely absorbed in some meaningless task—folding laundry, shifting supplies, something so mundane he can’t understand how she’s focused on it when he’s right here. She’s been taking up all the space in his mind, all the air in his lungs, and she has no idea.

Well, maybe she does. She’s the one who did this to him. The one who made him feel insatiable, so utterly out of control over his own thoughts and body.

Daryl leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, but it’s just to steady himself. His blood is running too hot, his heart pounding too fast, and it’s all because of her. His gaze drags over her, over the way her shirt clings to her back, the soft curve of her hips, the little furrow in her brow as she concentrates. She’s so calm, so collected, like she hasn’t absolutely ruined him.

Ever since that first night—hell, every night since—she’s been all he can think about. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her. Feels her. The way she looked at him, the way she touched him, the way she felt under him—warm and soft and his. His cock has never been this hard, not at midnight, not first thing in the morning, and definitely not all goddamn day. And it’s all because of her.

His jaw clenches as the memories flood back: her taste, sweet and heady on his tongue. The way she whispered his name, gasping and desperate, like he was the only man in the world who could make her feel that way. Taking her for the first time, the way her body shifted and shivered beneath him as he rocked into her. It was like a switch he didn’t even know existed had flipped inside him, and now he’s nothing but want, need—fucking hunger.

His hands twitch at his sides. He tries to rein it in, to give her space, but it’s useless. His thoughts are wild and untamed, like he’s been starved his whole damn life and she’s the only thing that can satisfy him. He wants to feel her again, taste her again, bury himself so deep inside her that neither of them knows where one ends and the other begins.

And she’s just standing there, so calm, so unbothered. How can she not feel it? Doesn’t she know what she’s done to him?

“Alright,” he growls, the sound low and guttural as he finally pushes off the doorframe, done with just standing by and watching her as he unravels.

Her head snaps up, her hands pausing mid-motion. “Daryl?” she asks, her brow furrowing in confusion at the intensity in his voice.

But he doesn’t answer. He can’t. Words won’t do it, won’t scratch the itch clawing at him, the fire burning through his veins. He crosses the room in a few quick strides, his movements rough and purposeful. His hands grip her waist before she can react, lifting her clean off the floor and tossing her over his shoulder like she weighs nothing.

“Daryl!” she squeals, her fists playfully tapping at his back, though there’s laughter in her voice. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

He doesn’t bother answering, doesn’t stop. He’s already heading for the nearest surface—the couch, the bed, the table, he doesn’t fucking care. All that matters is her, laid out for him, ready for him to take her apart.

When he reaches the couch, he lowers her just enough to drop her onto the cushions, her legs still dangling over the edge as he looms over her. She looks up at him, her chest rising and falling as she takes him in, her eyes widening slightly at the look on his face.

“You’ve ruined me,” he growls, his voice like gravel as his hands cage her in on either side. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. About how you feel. About how you taste. I can’t think straight, can’t sleep. You’ve fucked me up, woman.”

Her eyes widen, her lips parting as she looks up at him, her breath catching in her throat. She’s not used to this—him talking so much, his words spilling out in a frantic, unfiltered rush. He knows it too. Knows he can be a little aloof, a bit of a dick when it comes to talking about what’s on his mind. But she’d broken him, shattered whatever walls he’d kept so carefully constructed, and now he couldn’t stop the rambling, couldn’t stop the truth from pouring out of him.

His hands travel up her body, sliding over her sides, his rough fingertips grazing her skin, skimming over her stomach. He slots his hips between her legs, pressing her further into the couch as her thighs fall open for him.

“I—” she starts, but he cuts her off, his hands finding her waist, his touch rough but trembling.

“Please,” he mutters, his voice low and desperate, almost trembling with the weight of his need. His hands glide over her sides, brushing against her ribs, feeling the heat of her skin through her thin shirt. “I need you. Every inch of you. Right fuckin’ now. Tell me yes. Please, say yes.”

Her cheeks flush even deeper, the red blooming across her neck and chest as she stares up at him. And then, slowly, her hands lift, sliding up to rest on his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice a soft, breathless sigh. “Yes, Daryl. Always yes.”

It’s all he needs. An inhuman noise rumbles deep in his chest, primal and desperate, as his lips crash against hers, needy and unrelenting. His hands grip her thighs, pulling her flush against him as he kisses her like a man possessed, all teeth and tongue and sheer, insatiable hunger.

"Goddamn," he mutters against her lips, his voice shaking as he pulls back just enough to look at her. His hands slide further up her legs, gripping her ass, his thumbs imprinting into the soft curves of her skin. "You've got me so fucked up. I can't think about anything else. Just you. Just this.'

His lips trail down her neck, his teeth grazing her pulse point as his fingers hook into her shorts. He doesn't wait for permission this time; he knows she's all in, knows she's just as wanton as he is. He tugs them down in one rough motion, taking her panties with them, leaving her bare and spread out before him.

His gaze drops to her center, and he groans, his head tipping back for a moment as he fights to keep himself together. "Look at you," he murmurs, his voice low and reverent,"So fuckin' beautiful. So goddamn perfect." His hands grip her knees then, spreading her wider as he lowers himself between her legs.

His breath is hot against her skin, his mouth trailing hot, open kisses along the inside of her thighs, inching closer and closer to where she wants him most. Her sex glistens for him already, the sheen of slick luring him in.

"Daryl," she whines breathlessly, her fingers tangling in his hair as her hips lift off the couch.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he dives in, his tongue pressing flat against her slick heat, dragging up to circle her clit with slow, deliberate precision. The taste of her hits him like a drug, and he groans, his hands tightening on her thighs as he pulls her closer, needing more.

"You taste so fuckin' sweet," he mutters against her, his voice muffled but filled with awe.

Her cries spur him on, her thighs trembling against his shoulders as he works her over, his mouth relentless and hungry. He licks and sucks and nips at her, devouring her like she's the only thing keeping him alive, like her pussy is the last source of water in a barren desert. He still didn’t know how to do this right, not really, but he knew what her gasps meant, knew what the shiver in her thighs told him. And God, he just wanted to keep making her feel that way. His tongue falters for a moment, unsure if he’s going too fast or too slow, but then her hips roll against him, and he takes that as a sign to keep going.

"Daryl," she whimpers, her voice trembling as her fingers tug harder at his hair. "Oh, fuck-don't stop. Please, don't stop."

Her pleading only fuels him, his tongue moving faster, his lips sealing around her clit as he slides two fingers inside her. Her body arches off the couch, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries as he curls his fingers, stroking her exactly where she needs him. Her body responds instinctively, her words no longer coherent as her hips buck against him, riding the wave of her climax as it crashes over her.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. His mouth and fingers work her through every shudder, every breathless gasp, coaxing every ounce of pleasure out of her until she’s trembling beneath him, her chest heaving as she collapses back onto the cushions.

But he’s far from done.

She’s still shaking when his pace begins to slow, his lips pressing soft, reverent kisses to her slick heat as if to soothe her overstimulated body. Her breath comes in sharp, uneven bursts, her fingers gripping the cushions beneath her, but before she can catch her breath, his fingers curl again, pressing against that spongy spot inside her.

A sharp cry tears from her throat, her hips jerking involuntarily as the sensation sends a jolt of electricity through her.

“Daryl—” she starts, her voice trembling, but he just hums against her, his tongue dragging over her clit in slow, deliberate circles.

“Want another,” he mutters, his voice muffled against her skin, his words punctuated by the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth and fingers working her over. “Want more. Gotta see you like this again.”

Her head tips back, her body arching as overstimulation teeters dangerously close to overwhelming. “I—Daryl, it’s too much—” she gasps, but the words are lost in another moan as his fingers curl deeper, stroking that spot inside her with an almost maddening precision. If there was anything Daryl learned from their first time together, it was that he needed to know every single nook and crevice of her that made her come undone. Either with his mouth, his fingers, his cock. He was determined to learn her body inside and out.

“You can take it,” he growls as his lips seal around her clit again. His tongue flicks against her, faster now, relentless, as if her pleasure is the only thing that matters. “You’re so good for me, baby.”

Her body tightens beneath him, her nails clawing at the cushions as her thighs tremble around his head. She’s teetering on the edge again, the line between pleasure and too much blurring as his words and his touch send her spiraling. The second always comes so much faster than the first, it’s like a domino falling inside her lower belly.

She was falling apart because of him. He couldn’t believe it—still didn’t really know what he was doing—but her gasps, her moans, they told him he was doing something right.

“Cum for me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse but commanding. “Wanna feel you again. Wanna hear you,”

Her body responds before her mind can catch up, her hips bucking against his mouth as another wave crashes over her. She cries out, her voice raw and broken, her walls clenching around his fingers as she tumbles over the edge for the second time.

He groans against her, his tongue slowing as he works her through it, coaxing every last shudder and gasp from her trembling frame. When she finally collapses fully against the couch, her body spent and trembling, he presses one last kiss to her inner thigh, his lips curving into a small, satisfied smile.

As he moves to kneel between her legs again, her hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as her legs wrap around his waist, anchoring him to her. She’s still trembling from her release, her body pliant and warm beneath him, but she reaches up to capture his lips in hers, tasting herself on his now swollen, wet lips.

“Please, Daryl,” she says against his lips–now it was her begging him, and God if it didn’t take every last drop of restraint to wait for him to hear what she wanted next. How the hell did she look like that, sound like that, just because of him? He didn’t understand it, didn’t feel like he deserved it, but he was desperate to be worthy of her. He’d give her anything. Anything.

“What is it, baby? What do you want? Tell me,” he groans against her, his hips rutting into her, the wetness of her center staining his jeans where his bugle meets her clit. “Need you,” she whines, gasping when he drags his hips against her harder, “Please. Fuck me, Daryl.”

That’s all he needs. His hands fumble at his waistband, his urgency making his movements clumsy as he shoves his pants and briefs down just enough to free himself. His cock is already hard, throbbing and aching with need as he grips the base, positioning himself at her entrance.

He pauses, his breath ragged as he meets her gaze again, his forehead pressing against hers. “Tell me if I’m hurtin’ you,” he murmurs, his voice low and shaky.

“You won’t,” she reassures him, her hands sliding down to rest on his arms, her touch grounding him. “I trust you.”

The words send a wave of warmth through him, his chest tightening as he pushes forward, the tip of him sliding into her with an agonizing slowness. He groans, low and guttural, as the heat of her surrounds him, and her gasp mirrors his, her nails digging lightly into his skin.

This is all he’s thought about for days—taking her on the nearest surface, spreading her open, and burying himself deep inside her. The way she’d feel wrapped around him, her body clenching tight, pulling him in. But no amount of imagination, no desperate strokes of his own hand, could have prepared him for the way the real thing feels.

“God,” he mutters, his voice breaking as he sinks deeper, his hands trembling against her hips. “You’re so—fuck, you’re so tight.”

Her walls flutter around him, pulling a low groan from his throat. He can barely hold himself together, the heat and wetness of her stealing every coherent thought from his mind.

She moans softly, her hips tilting to take him in further, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “It’s too—too much, too big—” she breathes, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and something he can’t quite place.

His movements falter, his body stiffening as a rush of panic washes over him. He freezes, afraid of hurting her, afraid of pushing too far. His hips still as her words echo in his head, his hands trembling where they grip her hips. “Am I hurtin’ ya?” he asks, his voice tight with worry, his brow furrowing as he looks down at her.

Her hands slide up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his scruff. Her breath is shaky, her cheeks flushed, but there’s no fear in her eyes—only heat, only need.

“No,” she breathes, her voice trembling but steady. “It’s not that. I just—” She pauses, her lips parting as her head tilts back slightly. “I’ve never—never had someone so goddamn big.” Her voice breaks, her hands tightening on his arms as her hips shift beneath him. “You stretch me so good, Daryl. It’s just… overwhelming. In the best way.”

Her words send a bolt of heat straight through him, his cock twitching inside her as a low groan escapes his lips. “Jesus,” he mutters, his forehead pressing against hers. “You can’t say shit like that, woman. Gonna make me lose my mind,”

She laughs softly, the sound breathy and full of affection, and leans up to kiss him, her lips warm and teasing. “Then let me take over,” she whispers against his mouth, her fingers sliding down to his chest. “Let me show you how good you make me feel.”

He hesitates for a moment, his hands flexing against her hips. “You sure?” he asks, his voice low and rough, his gaze searching hers.

She nods, her smile widening as she cups his face again. “I’m sure,” she murmurs.

Reluctantly, he pulls back, his arms steadying her as she shifts beneath him. When his cock slips out of her, both of them hiss at the sudden loss of warmth, but she gently pushes at his chest to move up. And he moves with her, settling back against the cushions as she straddles his hips.

The sight of her above him, her body glowing in the soft afternoon light, takes his breath away. Her hands rest on his chest for balance, her legs bracketing his sides as she sinks down slowly, taking him back inside her inch by inch.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hands finding her thighs, his fingers pressing into her soft skin as his head tips back.

Her moans match his, her body adjusting to the stretch, the fullness of him. “You feel so good,” she whispers, her voice trembling as she begins to move, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles. “So good, Daryl.”

His hands slide to her waist under the hem of her shirt, steadying her as she sets the pace, her movements growing bolder with every passing second. The rhythm she creates is intoxicating, her body rising and falling above him, her warmth enveloping him completely.

“Let me see you,” he mutters, his voice low and reverent as his hands slide up her sides, his thumbs brushing over her ribs, his touch deliberate and worshipful. “Let me see these incredible tits, hunny.”

Her smile widens, her lips parting as her hands slide up her body, grazing over where his own rest on her waist. She takes her time, teasing, before finally gripping the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. The discarded fabric lands somewhere behind the couch, forgotten, as her bare skin is revealed to him.

He doesn’t wait, doesn’t hesitate. His head leans forward like he’s being pulled by some gravitational force he could never—would never—ignore. His lips find her breast, his mouth latching onto a nipple with a low, guttural groan.

His tongue flicks over the hardened peak before drawing it into his mouth, sucking softly. Hands tightening on her waist, his thumbs brush over the curve of her ribs as he holds her steady while her hips continue to rock over him.

She gasps, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as her hips grind against his. “Daryl,” she breathes, her voice trembling with pleasure. “God, yes, yes, yes,”

Her words spur him on, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud before his mouth moves to her other breast, lavishing it with the same attention. His tongue swirls, his lips pressing kisses along the soft swell of her skin, as though he’s worshipping every inch of her.

“You’re incredible,” he mutters between kisses, his voice hoarse and thick with awe. “Fuckin’ incredible.”

Her head tips back, her moans spilling from her lips as her hips roll against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through them both. “You’re the one making me feel this good,” she whispers, her voice thick and breathy. Her hands slide down to his shoulders, her nails grazing his skin as she pulls him closer. “This is all you, Daryl.”

Her words ignite something primal in him, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, guiding her movements as she rides him. The pace quickens, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm, their breaths mingling as the tension builds between them.

“You’re all I want,” he mutters, his voice breaking as he looks up at her, his gaze dark and full of need. “All I fuckin’ think about.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you either,” she sighs, kissing him between breaths, “You’re all I ever think about, Daryl,” you shift your hips and panting, add: “Only man I want, that I need.”

And then it happens. The control he’s been clinging to, the restraint he’s forced himself to maintain, snaps like a taut string stretched too far. Something wild and unhinged breaks free inside him, the monster he’s tried to keep buried roaring to the surface.

Before she can even register the shift, his arms are wrapping around her, pulling her down against him so her stomach is flush to his chest, her breasts pressed into his face. She lets out a surprised yelp, her hands scrambling for purchase against his shoulders, but it’s quickly overtaken by a sharp, guttural moan as he buries himself deeper inside her.

“Daryl!” she gasps, her voice trembling as her hands cling to him, the couch, anything she can grab to stay steady.

He holds her tight, his muscles flexing as his arms cage her in, his body taking over completely. His hips snap up into her, relentless and unyielding, each thrust harder and faster than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with her cries and his ragged groans, creating a symphony of raw, primal need.

Her head falls back, her hair cascading over her shoulders as she screams his name, her voice hoarse and broken with pleasure. And if she wasn’t moaning loud enough to disturb the neighborhood before, she sure as shit was now. The sheer force of his movements has her teetering on the edge of oblivion, her body trembling and she takes everything he’s giving, not able to form words or coherent thoughts anymore.

“That’s right, baby.” he growls, his voice raw and unrecognizable, his hands gripping her hips so tightly he knows he’ll leave marks. “Take that fucking cock, you’re so good, so perfect for it. Like your sweet pussy was made for me,”

The words pour out of him without thought, his mouth brushing against her chest, her neck, her collarbone, anywhere he can reach. He’s barely aware of what he’s saying, barely aware of anything except the overwhelming need to take her, to claim her, to lose himself completely in the heat and softness of her. He’s never known anything like this, where the words are even coming from, where this monster in his chest has escaped from.

Her body arches against him, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries as she clings to him, her nails digging into his scalp, pulling his hair, “Daryl—I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

“That’s it,” he growls, his hips driving up into her harder, deeper, his cock swelling as his own release builds. “Wanna feel you. Wanna hear you scream my fuckin’ name.”

And she does. Her body tenses, her thighs trembling as her release slams into her like a tidal wave. She cries out, her voice raw and ragged as her walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, her pleasure washing over her in uncontrollable waves.

The way she tightens around him, the way her body shakes and shudders in his arms, is enough to send him spiraling after her. He groans, his head tipping back as his hips jerk erratically, his cock pulsing as he spills into her, filling her completely.

His chest heaves as he holds her against him, his body trembling from the force of his release. They stay like that for a long moment, tangled together, their breaths mingling as the intensity of what just happened sinks in.

When he finally loosens his grip, his hands slide to her back, stroking her soothingly as her head rests against his shoulder. “You okay?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, his lips brushing against her ear.

She nods, a breathless laugh escaping her as she lifts her head to meet his gaze. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair sticking to her damp skin, but her smile is soft and curious, a hint of awe in her expression.

“I’m more than okay,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a mix of lingering pleasure and surprise. Her fingers trail lightly over his chest, and her lips curve into a teasing grin. “But… I feel like I unleashed something in you I didn’t know was there.”

His brows furrow slightly, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he looks away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well…” he mutters, his voice rough with embarrassment. “Ain’t never felt like this before. Never had—never been like this with anyone.” His gaze flickers back to hers, unsure but steady. “Guess you… bring somethin’ out in me.”

Her eyes soften, her fingers tracing along his jaw as she tilts his face back toward her. “Something incredible,” she says softly, her smile widening. “I like it. A lot.”

His lips twitch into a small, lopsided grin, his hand coming up to cup her face as his thumb brushes over her cheek. “You… you’re somethin’ else,” he mutters, his voice low and full of affection. “Don’t even feel like the same person I was before you.”

Her heart swells at his words, her chest tightening as she leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. When she pulls back, her smile is full of warmth. “Guess I ruined you in the best way, huh?”

He huffs a laugh, his forehead pressing against hers as his arms tighten around her. “Yeah,” he says, his voice soft but sure. “Guess you did.”

“S’okay,” she murmurs, her fingers trailing lightly over his shoulder. “Think you’ve ruined me too.”

The words hit him like a punch to the chest, his breath stuttering as his grip on her tightens. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice rough and low, like he doesn’t quite believe her but wants to more than anything.

“Yeah,” she whispers back, her lips curving into a soft smile as she breathes in, her forehead still against his, “Never thought I could feel like this—this full, this… complete. It’s all you, Daryl. You’ve changed everything.”

For a moment, he can’t speak, his throat too tight, his chest too full. Instead, he presses his lips to hers again, the kiss deep and slow, filled with everything he can’t quite say.

835 notes · View notes

lambcultist · 2 months ago

Text

꒰ ♱ ꒱ gf!ellie who was oddly secretive about her 'career' since your relationship began, and you never stopped to question why...┆ dark content. hitman!ellie x naive!reader. toxic relationship, manipulation, gaslighting, love bombing. she's literally a murderer, you have been warned + i'm rusty because i've been tired lately, but wanted to get this out because i kept thinking about it ♡ MINORS DNI ( 18+ )

"it's just a job, babe. it's that simple. you never told me you were coming home early, the fuck is up with that?"

you had arrived home with a headache to a near-silent house, not even a whisper, only the faucet running in the bathroom. once you followed the noise, you couldn't get a peep out before ellie spotted your look of horror in the mirror behind her. she cursed quietly and made a pathetic effort in hiding the array of obscene, bloody weapons on the counter from your view with her body, but it was too late.

there isn't any option. you must cooperate, or you will be forcing her hand to her gun, and the barrel to your head. and for her own sake, ellie is praying you will listen.

"it doesn't matter that i came home early, i— i shouldn't have to come home to this—"

"shut the fuck up, if you never came home, you wouldn't have seen me like this," ellie hisses. she keeps her back to you, sparing you nothing but a menacing glare through the mirror as she wipes down her revolver. "you could have prevented this so easily. could've texted, or called."

she yields a fucking weapon, perhaps you shouldn't shout or argue; it may cost your life. truthfully your mind finds it hard to comprehend this. sweet, lovely ellie, who has always been a little overprotective, but not in any questionable sense—until now, that is—she's a killer.

"i'm not the one at fault." you take steps back, speaking more to yourself than ellie by this point, who can't bear to listen to your panicking. "oh my god. oh my god. i have to call the—"

now, this catches her attention. she spins on her heel, hands flying to your wrists to bar you from exiting. "no, you don't call anyone. you don't tell anyone. don't be stupid, baby, god. you know what happens when you call the cops? they take me away from you. that's what happens. you want that? you want me gone?"

fat, hot tears pool in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you shake your head. your wrists are rigid, ellie's nails pressing into your flesh with a sickening burn. "no, no, just—"

"you'd fucking betray me like that? after everything i've done for you? i thought you'd be different."

"no!"

"then don't you dare turn me in," she spits. your vision is blurred and your brain foggy, but you can feel the callous look in her eyes. they are like daggers. "i do all of this for you. i do this so we can have a good life. and you'd really just... throw me to the wolves like that, huh?"

"no, no, i won't," you weep, frantically shaking your head now. how could you be so dumb, so selfish? ellie has opened up about her fear of abandonment enough times for you to be conscious of it. you should've remembered how this would hurt her. "i'm sorry ellie, i wasn't thinking."

"fucking hell," ellie mutters, letting go of you finally, critically surveying you up and down. your tears, your weary hiccups and sobs... you are easy enough now. "i'm not a murderer, babe. it's just a job. that's all there is to it."

"okay." she isn't satisfied with your lack of words now, but it is understandable.

"this job.. you know how much blood and sweat it takes? fuckin' look at me. this one didn't go down easy," ellie says. she talks, rambles, to fill the silence in the room. "this one fought. he hurt me. and i do this for us. to pay the bills, the rent, put food on the table, and to buy you whatever shit you want."

you nod along. she lifts her shirt to show you deep, purple marks she has earned, instructs you to watch her clean scratches and cuts she received, and then runs the shower.

"why did you come home?" ellie asks. she is milder now, throwing her black clothing to the ground piece by piece.

"i.. had a headache," you murmur between sniffles.

"why didn't you say that?" she scoffs, reaching for the hem of your sweater. "jesus, baby. could've been looking after you already. shower with me."

you flinch while ellie begins to undress you. she notices, of course, and gives you a warning glare.

"babe, don't be scared. i love you."

for a minute or two beneath the shower head, the water runs pink, the remaining evidence of her crime disappearing. her soapy hands run along your body firmly. her lips press against your forehead and her arms are pulling you in for a cuddle under the water. it should be warm, yet it feels so icy.

"i'm not a danger to you," ellie whispers, kissing your temple before she adds, "as long as you stay quiet."

🏷️ @abbysdollie @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @literallylautski @ellieshothousewife @piercedome @therealhexstrap @jinxedbambi @heyimrye @rhian88 @g4ys0n @yoosohh @marvelwomenarehot0 @l0veylace

#.ellie #ellie willams x reader #tlou2 x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #tlou x reader #ellie williams x fem reader #hitman!ellie #murderer!ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie x you

347 notes · View notes

bellaxgiornata · 17 days ago

Text

Not Like Before Chapter Three

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; nurse!Reader, canon-divergence (no Abel or Thomas), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, girl dad Jax

a/n: I've had this series stuck in my head and I'm curious to see the reactions y'all have to these next few chapters! I've been binge writing them... Feedback is always appreciated! Dividers by the lovely @secretlysamcro.

series tag list: @kmc1989 @secretlysamcro @chloe-skywalker @cindsvibes @aussiefangirl95 @sjester42-blog @danzer8705 @uknowmesstuff @mmarysha @shiggynuggiez @stevie75 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @kaydallas21 @orymgraves @unholycheesesnack @livewaspsblog @leather-n-velvet @staley83 @moongirlgodness @shelbyteller

Standing beside the hospital bed, you found yourself in a stare down with the last patient on your rounds for today. The rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor repeatedly broke through the silence of his room as he held your stare with his own. Placing one hand on your hip, you absolutely refused to back down from this standoff.

You raised the chocolate pudding cup in front of yourself, watching Chibs’ attention switch from you to the dessert in your hand. “We had a deal for this past week, Chibs,” you reminded him, shaking the pudding cup to emphasize your point. “That's the only way this works.”

“Bit more like a bribe, sweetheart,” he countered, his eyes narrowing as he met your gaze again. “And what's a few ounces of water even matter? I'm gettin’ discharged this afternoon.”

“Well, until then,” you began, turning around and setting the pudding cup down onto his bedside table, just out of his reach, “you're still my patient. In my care. And we–” you turned back towards him, crossing your arms over your chest and fitting him with the same stare you used on Em, “–had a deal. Drink your water if you want the extra pudding cup.”

Chibs frowned back at you, but you didn't ease up on the stern expression and the Mom Stare you'd long since perfected. You'd done this dance far more times than you could count with a four year old who's brain wasn't nearly as developed enough to comprehend logic and reasoning, especially when she really wanted something. So Chibs? He was nothing in comparison to your stubborn and hard-headed girl. He broke far easier than Em would have for his damn extra pudding cups.

After another few beeps from his heart monitor marked the passing time, he finally folded. Releasing a sigh, his shoulders dropped before he reluctantly reached a hand out. Grinning triumphantly, you grabbed the large jug of ice water he'd been avoiding drinking and placed it into his awaiting hand.

“Swear ya must be a witch,” he muttered.

Biting your lip, you fought down your laughter as you switched your focus to filling out his medical chart for the last time. Admittedly, you were going to miss seeing him on your rounds since he was getting discharged this afternoon. He was the last patient on your schedule for today, meaning this would be your last visit with him. Over this past week that he'd been here, he'd brightened your days at this small hospital far more than your other patients–like Mrs. Trenton down in room 245. She spent most of her time telling you how her eldest son was the devil because he wouldn't sneak her food into the hospital that went against her dietary restrictions.

“Not a witch,” you assured him, focused on filling out his chart, your head bowed over the clipboard. “Just have a lot of experience with getting my stubborn daughter to listen to me.”

Chibs swallowed his water, lowering the jug to his lap as he eyed you curiously. As your pen continued to scratch across the paper, you could see him watching you from his bed out of the corner of your eye. He'd told you he had a daughter the other day as well. Though he'd never elaborated on it further, and the somber look in his eyes when he'd mentioned her kept you from asking any questions.

“She get that from her mother?” he asked curiously. “That stubborn streak you're always talkin’ about?”

Grinning, you shook your head as you continued working on his chart. “No, not from me. I'm not nearly as hard-headed as she is,” you told him, a fondness in your words as you spoke about her. “Probably gets it from her father.”

When you realized what you'd said, you fell quiet, the grin gradually falling off your face as you continued writing down a few notes on the chart. Emilia’s father was a difficult topic for you. It wasn't as if you wanted people to know that you'd hooked up with a stranger for one night and the encounter had resulted in your daughter because people were judgemental.

Even if that night with him had been beyond incredible–and one of the last times you'd really had sex, or at least great sex. You'd obviously not been with anyone during the time you'd been pregnant with Emilia, and at the time, that had been the furthest thing from your mind. After Emilia was born, you had attempted to date, but the moment you mentioned your little girl, the dates always ceased.

Eventually, you'd resorted to having one time flings, getting a sitter for Em so that you could have a few hours to be something other than mom for a while. But those nights only further proved how unique that first night had been with Em's father–because you were quick to discover flings did not go like they had that night. They were quick, unsatisfying, and boring, so you’d given up years ago. It had always just been you and Em ever since she’d come into your life.

“Never seem to want to talk about her father,” Chibs pointed out. “Why is that?”

“I never really knew him,” you stated softly, still focused on the clipboard.

Judging by the quiet hum he made in response, you knew he understood what you hadn’t actually said. Em had been a surprise, fathered by a stranger. You figured if anyone in this town wouldn't judge you, Chibs was probably one of them.

“Ahh, I see,” he replied. “At least he wasn't some deadbeat prick that needed his arse kicked. Though I woulda been happy to do that for ya.”

Lowering your pen to the paper, you turned and looked over at Chibs, a small smile creeping over your face. “Can't say most of my patients repeatedly offer to beat up men for me,” you teased lightly. “I'll definitely miss having you around here.”

“So ya do like me,” he shot back with a chuckle. “I knew it, sweetheart. Can't really resist my charms.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully before grabbing your clipboard from the counter. Chibs lifted the jug of water from his lap, taking a few deep drinks through the straw. As he drank, you turned and grabbed the bedside table, wheeling it closer to him so he could reach the pudding cup.

“Enjoy your last stolen pudding cup,” you told him. “But you should really drink more water when you're out of here.”

Chibs was quick to set his water down and grab the dessert, a soft laugh falling out of you as he tore into it. You didn't know the rest of the guys in his motorcycle club, but he seemed harmless enough. You still didn't understand why the other nurses here were so against caring for him, acting like they thought he’d shoot them for taking his blood pressure or administering some pain medication.

“Be honest with ya, sweetheart,” he said, already scooping up some pudding with a spoon, “that ain't gonna happen.”

“Could have at least lied to me,” you pointed out with a grin, beginning to walk towards the hospital room door. You could hear loud voices coming from down the hall just outside of it, but you kept your focus on Chibs. “I hope I don't see you injured back in here, but I will miss your awful jokes brightening my days. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“Aye,” he said with a nod. “You as well, sweetheart.”

You gave him one last goodbye before turning and opening the door of his room, stepping into the hall where the unmistakable noise of his friends was impossible to ignore. Glancing over towards the right, you saw a group of Sons making their way towards Chibs’ room. You had been about to turn away from the loud bikers and continue down the hall, needing to change out of your scrubs and go pick up Emilia from preschool, but then your eyes caught onto a set of blue ones.

He froze and so did you.

Hugging your clipboard against your chest, your breath died in your throat as the rowdy group continued their way towards Chibs’ room. None of the others seemed to notice the strange way you’d gone entirely immobile just staring at the blonde who was staring back at you. Maybe it was partly due to the fact that the hospital staff here always treated them differently, but you didn't give it much more thought. You were too distracted by how the blonde had reacted to you, just standing there staring at you with wide, surprised eyes that probably mirrored your own.

As the others continued obliviously into the room you'd just exited, one guy with a thick, dark beard and a neck tattoo hung behind when he finally realized his group was a man down. Returning to his side, he nudged an arm against the blonde whose face was quickly resurfacing in your mind from so long ago. The taller man leaned over, asking him something you couldn’t quite hear. The blonde nodded before his friend glanced over at you for a moment, a curious look in his eyes before he turned and joined the other Sons in Chibs’ hospital room.

Then you were left standing alone in the hallway with him, your heart violently pounding in your chest as you stared at the man you had no doubt was your daughter’s father. The man who had absolutely no idea he had a child with you. And considering he didn't know that, it only made his strange reaction to you incredibly confusing and unusual. He seemed to have recognized you just as quickly himself even though it'd been five years since you’d spent those few hours together, something you were certain he'd done countless times with other women since then.

Why did he recognize you? How could he possibly have remembered you?

He took a few cautious steps towards you in his pristine Nikes like he wasn’t entirely certain if he should. Squeezing your clipboard tighter to your chest, you still felt as if you couldn’t breathe. You were carrying a secret he had no idea about. A massive, life-changing one. While years ago you’d initially wanted to find some way to tell him when you’d discovered you were pregnant, now you had absolutely no idea what to say. You were entirely unprepared for this encounter. You’d known he’d been in some sort of motorcycle club back then, but you hadn’t ever thought that it could be the one here where you’d just moved.

The silence felt suffocating the longer it stretched on in the otherwise empty hallway, your nerves steadily rising as his eyes scanned over your face in disbelief. You didn’t know what to even say, but you knew that you couldn’t just blurt out the truth to him. That wasn’t something you just dropped on somebody five years later the second you saw them. But while your mind was racing with thoughts about having found your daughter’s father unexpectedly all these years later, you had no idea what the hell was running through his mind with the way he kept staring at you.

“You’re…” he began, that odd look still on his face. “You’re the girl from Fresno.”

Palms beginning to sweat against the clipboard you were holding in a death grip, a strained smile tugged at your lips. “I guess? I mean I used to live there,” you told him. “I uh, moved. Recently.” Your eyes darted towards Chibs’ room where the Sons were currently still making raucous conversation inside despite being down a man. “Obviously,” you added awkwardly, focusing back on him.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips at your answer, like he’d been surprised but pleased to hear it. “So you remember who I am?” he asked.

How the hell would you ever be able to forget him? That night had been easily the best sex you’d ever had and probably would ever have. But besides that, he’d given you your daughter. The one thing you loved above anything in the world. Of course you hadn’t entirely forgotten him, you’d just never expected to ever meet him again.

“Yeah,” you answered. “You look a bit different now, but I’m pretty sure there’s only one biker who’d have a reason to recognize me. Though I’m…truthfully kind of surprised you even remember me.”

He bit his lip, fighting back the growing smile as he took a few steps closer towards you, closing some of the distance between you both in the hallway. Your feet remained rooted to the floor as he stopped a short distance from you. Unable to resist, your eyes began to scan him over in return.

He’d changed from the memory you had of him all those years ago. The long, shaggy hair had been replaced with a different style, something slicked back and neater. His facial hair wasn’t nearly as unkempt and outgrown, but he still had that blonde beard on his handsome face–a face which had only grown more attractive over the years. He’d matured from the young man you’d taken home with you back then to the broad, muscular man standing in front of you now. But he still carried that dangerous aura which oddly drew you in instead of away.

“Couldn’t forget you, if I’m being honest,” he admitted.

He still had that smooth voice of his, too. You remembered how it had once murmured such dirty things into your ears, but even now it could still make your pulse quicken.

“That was a damn good night,” he added.

Clearing your throat, you felt goosebumps prickle along your forearms at the comment. A ‘damn good night’ seemed like a vast understatement to the way you’d both been so completely tangled up in each other for hours.

“Yeah, it was definitely something,” you agreed quietly.

The smile lingered on his lips as something hid behind his pretty blue eyes. But the longer you held his stare trying to make sense of it, the more you began to realize that Emilia’s eyes were the same shape as his, and that smile he was wearing looked incredibly familiar, too. She’d inherited more than you’d realized from her father.

“Honestly, darlin’, I never thought I’d run into you again,” he confessed with a shake of his head. “But now you live in Charming?”

You nodded, the nerves in your stomach growing under the weight of his gaze. Five years ago, you'd had a completely different reaction to his undivided attention than you were having now.

“Just moved here about three weeks ago,” you replied.

Still hugging the clipboard tight to your chest, you could feel the erratic thudding of your heart beneath it. While part of you wanted to stay and talk to him–admittedly you could feel that familiar attraction and the strange draw towards him even years later–you knew you really couldn’t. Besides the fact that you needed to pick up your daughter from preschool, you were also struggling not to just blurt out the words ‘you got me pregnant’ the longer you stood here with him.

But you knew dropping that on him out of nowhere would not be the best way to disclose the news to him. Which was apparently now something you needed to figure out how the hell to even go about doing, but a run-in with him for the first time in years didn’t seem like the best time. Especially when you really needed to get going and didn’t have time to sit here and answer the questions he might have.

Running a hand over his mouth, he nodded his head at your answer. With the way he was acting, it seemed like he wasn’t ready to let this conversation just end. He hadn’t excused himself to go into Chibs’ hospital room with the other Sons, lingering in the hall like he'd rather be out here with you. Which only had you growing curious about why that was.

“You move out here with a boyfriend or somethin’?” he questioned next.

Lips parting in surprise at the blunt, bold question, both of your brows rose up onto your forehead. The man chuckled at the look on your face while you contemplated the audacity of him asking about your relationship status so quickly and easily.

“Just wondering. Don't know if I gotta worry about some guy tryin’ to start shit with me for having history with you,” he told you, shrugging his shoulders in faux innocence. “Just wanna make sure I’m not kicking someone’s ass that I probably shouldn’t, y’know?”

Somehow you had a feeling he wouldn't mind kicking anyone's ass.

“No, I uh, definitely didn’t move here with anyone like that,” you answered him.

You’d been about to add on that you’d moved here with your daughter, but the words got stuck in your throat. Tongue feeling like it had turned to lead, you couldn’t get the words out. Because if you told him about your daughter, you felt like you needed to tell him the full truth. And you'd already established that it didn't feel like the time and place.

“So no guys I gotta be lookin’ out for, huh?” he teased, unaware of your internal conflict.

It felt like there was something else in his words, a flirtatious undertone. While you’d love to have a repeat of that night–sans another pregnancy–you couldn’t just sleep with him now. The dynamic between you two was going to get messy and strange once you finally did tell him the truth. If he didn’t want to be in Emilia’s life, you couldn’t possibly imagine letting him sleep with you again. But if he did want to be, well, that further complicated matters when it came to possibly co-parenting with him in the future.

“Not at the moment, no,” you told him.

You caught the way his head tilted to the side and his smile grew wider before your attention shifted to the clock hanging on the wall in the hallway. You needed to get out of the hospital and go pick up Emilia from preschool before you were late. As if he’d figured out where your thoughts were, you saw his smile had dimmed when you focused back on him.

“Gotta go?” he asked, sounding a bit disappointed.

“I’m actually off my shift now,” you told him, gesturing your thumb down the hallway behind you. “I was on my way to change out of my scrubs and…I needed to make an appointment.”

The lie felt uncomfortable and wrong as it fell out of you, but what else were you supposed to say? If you mentioned a daughter now, you knew you’d feel even worse lying to his face by not telling him that the daughter you were picking up wasn’t just yours.

“Don’t let me hold you up then, darlin’,” he said. “Maybe I’ll see you around town now that you live here.”

“Yeah, I'm sure,” you replied awkwardly.

Biting your lip nervously, you ignored the weird sensation in your gut as you took a step away from him, the feeling begging you to just spill absolutely everything to him. Instead, you released the clipboard with one hand and gave him a brief wave before you turned around, beginning to head in the opposite direction down the hall.

“Wait!”

You’d only managed to take a handful of steps before he’d called out after you. Stopping at the sound of his voice, you looked over your shoulder at him behind you. He was smiling again, and that hint of something in his eyes had returned, the sight of it making your heart skip. Even after all this time, he still had that same effect on you.

“Can I get a name this time?” he called after you. “To finally go with the pretty face?”

Unable to help yourself, a small smile spread over your lips. He was still far too smooth for his own good and dammit if it still didn't work for you, too. You called back to him, giving him your name and watching some unknown emotion flicker across his face.

“You have a name?” you questioned in return.

“Jackson,” he told you, already beginning to walk backwards towards the door to Chibs’ hospital room with something in his step. “But I go by Jax, darlin’.”

And there you finally had it. Emilia’s father’s name. Five years after the fact.

“Was good running into you,” he said, his grin growing a bit cocky as his hand pressed down on the handle of the hospital door, pushing it open. “Be seein’ you.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I'm sure you will.”

But not for whatever reason he was probably expecting.

Sitting on the couch in your living room, you barely paid attention to the show that was playing on your television. You were sitting on your couch with your legs tucked up beside you, trying to relax before bed this evening. Harley, your pitbull mix, stretched his legs out on the cushion beside you, raising his large, gray head as his mouth opened wide in a yawn. Afterwards, he lazily dropped his head onto your thigh, dark eyes staring up at you. Glancing down at him, his tired eyes met yours before one of your hands absently landed on his head and began to pet him.

Your surprise encounter earlier with Jax at the hospital had been on your mind for the rest of the day. It had been near impossible to focus on what Emilia had been telling you about her morning at preschool–and anything else she’d been going on about the rest of the day–because your thoughts kept drifting back to him. You had not expected to run into him in Charming. Or ever, for that matter.

As much as you'd wanted to focus on the fact that he seemed like he was interested in you, or at least interested in sleeping with you again, all you could focus on was how you were supposed to tell him what you obviously needed to. You hadn’t been prepared for this, and the stress had been eating at you all night, making you feel sick to your stomach. You'd hardly been able to eat dinner, having to lie to Emilia about not feeling well when she’d asked if you were alright. You'd put her down to sleep just over an hour ago and all you'd done since was sit on the couch drowning in your thoughts.

“What am I supposed to do here, Harl?” you asked your dog softly. “How am I supposed to tell him this? We barely know each other. Took me five years to even learn his name is Jax, how do I look him in the face and tell him he's got a four year old daughter?”

Harley stared up at you, his dark eyes watching as he listened to you speak. Head falling against the backrest of your couch, you continued to pet him gently, finding a bit of comfort in his presence.

“I don't even have his number,” you mused aloud. “No way to contact him besides showing up at that motorcycle clubhouse by that garage. And I really don't want to do that just to ask him to talk to me. Cause that's weird, right?”

Harley raised his head from your leg at the inflection in your voice, tilting it curiously to the side like he was trying to understand you. You sighed, beginning to scratch behind one of his ears as you let your thoughts freely flow out of you to the only one you could ever really talk to–your dog.

“What if I tell him and he wants nothing to do with her?” you asked him. “It was one thing when I just didn't know how to find him, but to have her dad not even want to know her?”

Your heart ached at the thought. Emilia had been asking questions about her dad starting almost a year ago. You had struggled trying to explain to her that her daddy just wasn't in her life because he didn't know about her and because you had no way to find him. You’d tried to make it a point for her to understand that him not being around wasn’t by choice or because he didn't want her. You'd hate to have to tell her the truth when she was older, that you’d found him and he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her.

“But what if he does want to be in her life?” you continued thinking aloud to your dog, absently petting him as he stared up at you. “What kind of man is he? He's part of a motorcycle club–whatever that even really means. Which was fine for some random one night thing. But as a father?”

Could this man even be a father? What would that even look like with whatever it was that he did for that club? Was his life even safe enough for Emilia to be in it?

“I wasn't anticipating this to happen when we moved to Charming, Harl,” you murmured, blankly staring ahead at the television screen again. “I don't even know how I feel about finding him. For so long it's just been Em and I. We've never really had anyone else. How am I just supposed to let a literal stranger into our life if that's what he wants?”

Sighing, your eyes drifted back down to Harley as he stared back at you. He made a quiet little noise before he dropped his head onto your thigh again. Your hand moved to his back as you lightly patted him.

“You want to tell him for me?” you asked Harley hopefully. “We could trade places for a bit and you can have that conversation for me. Because I'd honestly rather go piss in the backyard as a dog for an afternoon instead of having to look him in the eye and tell him he knocked me up all those years ago and now he has a daughter running around Charming.”

Harley shifted his head on your leg with a soft groan before his eyes slowly closed. A frown pulled at your lips before your attention drifted back to the television. Those same thoughts continued to spiral in your head. You knew you needed to tell Jax everything because the longer you waited, the worse it would be to tell him the truth.

“Figured as much,” you murmured quietly. “Next time I see him, I’ll do it. Whenever I'm not in a complete rush and Em isn't around. I'll just have to spit it out,” you quietly vowed to Harley. “Don't really think there's any other way to do it. He deserves to know, however he ends up reacting to the news. She's his daughter, too.”

You only hoped the opportunity came sooner rather than later so he didn't feel like you'd been trying to hide something from him.

#jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy #soa #jax teller fanfiction #charlie hunnam characters #charlie hunnam

253 notes · View notes